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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part Twenty-One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(TW: Mention of past abuse! This is an angsty part.)

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You popped open a bottle of red wine for the two of you when you got back to your apartment. Harry kept the lights dim, and lit some candles. He connected his phone to your Bluetooth, and started playing music. You weren’t sure why the evening got so romantic, but you weren’t complaining.

As you were pouring the wine, he walks behind you and turns you around. He takes a hand in his, and puts his other on the small of your back. He starts dancing you around the kitchen. You rested your head on his chest, being too short to rest it on his shoulder.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you.” You whisper back.

He hums the music in your ear, sending you into a euphoric state. What was he trying to do with you? Harry was always romantic, but never had he done something like this with you before. He always talked about how much he hated dancing, but he was a wonderful dancer. You felt like you were floating on a cloud. The song ends, but you stay pressed to him for a moment. You giggle, and reach for your wine to take a sip.

“That was nice.” You say as he takes his glass for a sip. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“I thought you hated dancing.”

“This kind of dancing I like.” He wraps his arms back around your waist.

“You’re in a really cute mood tonight.”

“I’m just…happy.” He leans his head down to kiss you, his hands sliding into your back pockets to give your butt a squeeze.

You kiss him back, taking his bottom lip into your mouth to suck slowly on. He groans and pulls you closer to him. His hands move up to your cheeks so he can tilt your face more. Your mouth opens up for him. His tongue darts inside your mouth to find yours. You loved being kissed like this by him. You could feel the need he had for you. Harry had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted you.

“Wanna go to the bedroom?” You ask between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You blow out the candles Harry had lit, and he turns off the music. When he enters the bedroom, your hand slide up under his shirt. You feel every trace of his long torso. He pulls the short off. You give his chest gentle kisses before finding a spot to bite and suck on. His head tilts back. His hands reach for the hem of your shirt and lifts it off of you. He’s met with a black lace bra. He plants kisses on your jaw, and down your neck. He unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the floor. He pulls you against his chest so he can feel your breasts pressed against him. You nibble on his earlobe, causing another groan to leave his lips. You can feel him getting hard against you.

“Tell me what you want, Harry.” You say into his ear, starting to nip at his neck.

“You, I want you.” You know what he means, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You knew it had to be killing him. Three months of only being able to use his mouth and hands had to be torture. You step back to look at him. His eyes were sad. You knew he felt bad for saying it.

“I know you do, baby. And you have me, you do.”

“Not all of you.” He looks down at his feet. He can’t look at you directly while expressing his frustration. “I know you need time, and I know it really doesn’t have anything to do with me.” You sigh and cup his face in your hands so he’ll look at you. Green eyes still sad.

“I love you so much, Harry. I know this isn’t easy. I know you want to do more with me. And I’ve thought about it, I have. But…”

“You’re still scared?”

“I’m terrified. Not of you, of course.”

“What is it then?” He asks calmly.

“Well,” You let go of his face. “I’m afraid I’m going to have a flashback and picture him on top of me.” You feel tears start to burn your cheeks. Harry wipes them away.

“I’m sorry, we were having such a nice evening, and I-“

“It’s okay, I want you to be able to express your frustrations.”

“But I feel like I shouldn’t be. We do so many other things, good things. And not everything needs to be about sex. I love…” Tears start to form in his eyes. “I love when we just hang out and watch a movie, or when we cook together and talk about our days. We do so many other intimate things. I don’t know what my problem is.” You pull his head to your chest as he cries. You run your free hand on his back to soothe them.

“My sensitive guy, it’s okay.” He hangs his head and looks at you through his eyelashes. “I’m sorry that this is the one thing I can’t give you right now. But it won’t be like this forever. Every day I’m with you I feel like we move a step closer. Going to see Dr. Mara regularly again has been a huge help.”

“I feel awful because I just wish I could take all of your fear and pain away.”

“Harry, you can’t burden yourself with my issues like this.”

“S’not a burden. I love you, I can’t help that I worry.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, I get better every day.” You give him a reassuring smile. “For a while, I stopped going to therapy. But being with you made me realize I wasn’t as better as I thought. I still had a lot of work to do. I spent a lot of time pretending I was okay. Now I feel like I’m not pretending anymore. I really feel okay, and happy.”

“You do?”

“Yes. You’ve helped me realize so many things about myself.” He wipes his eyes.

“I completely fucked up this night.”

“No you didn’t.” You kiss him on the cheek. “What do you say we just get cozy in bed? We can snuggle all night.” You smile at him.

“That sounds great.”

You change into some pj’s, and he keeps a t-shirt and boxers on. Harry never slept with a shirt on, he must still be feeling a little off. As you go into the bathroom to wash your face, Harry texts Niall to see if he’ll be back tomorrow. The two make plans to meet up at some point. He gives you a half smile while you crawl into bed with him.

“I’m sorry, again.” He says as you rest your head on his chest.

“Please, don’t be.” You nuzzle into him. “I’m happy to just be close with you like this.”

“I know you are.” You sense a slight annoyance in his voice, but decide to let it go. He sighs. “Sorry, that sounded rude. I’m happy too.” He rubs your back lightly.

“It’s not like you haven’t felt me…” You try to justify yourself. “And, I mean, I suck you off all the time.”

“I’m not complaining about any of that. Those things are great, I guess I just wish we could be more intimate.” He wanted to make love to you. Actually, he wanted to absolutely wreck you. He wanted to wreck you for all other men, so you would never want another man. But these were the types of inside thoughts that needed to stay inside. He would wait forever if he had to, he just didn’t want to.

“So…what are you done being patient with me?” You pop your head up to look at him in the eyes.

“No! No, of course not. I’d wait as long as I had to.”

“You make it seem like what we’re doing isn’t enough though.” Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, trying to read the plain expression on his face.

“I just want to be as close to you as I possibly can.”

“You don’t feel close to me now? Sex has to be what makes us close?”

“You’re…you’re twistin’ my words a bit.”

“I guess I just don’t understand.” You sit up completely. “One minute you’re asking me to go meet your family, another minute we’re dancing in my kitchen, then we almost get intimate, and all of a sudden we’re having a fight about sex. This night has gone all over the fucking place.” He sits up.

“Since when are we fighting? We’re havin’ a discussion.”

“Whatever the fuck it is, this is stupid.” You say looking at him.

“Oh, so my feelings are stupid now? Didn’t you say a little while ago that I shouldn’t be afraid to express myself?”

“You’re making me feel bad because I can’t give you this yet.”

“I don’t understand the difference between my fingers and my dick!” Your heart is racing.

“Harry, I think you should leave.” You don’t look at him. Your bottom lip starts to quiver. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. He rubs his hands over his face.

“I am such a fucking idiot sometimes!” He says more so to himself than to you. “Do you really want me to go?”

“No.” You bite the inside of your cheek harder. “But I also don’t want to be around you right now either.” Tears start to stream down your cheeks. He tries to grab your hand, but you pull away.

“I don’t ever want to be the reason for your tears.”

“How could you say something like that to me? About the fingers and your dick.” You snap your head to look at him. Your eyes are red and angry. “You wanna know what the fucking difference is Harry?” Your whole body turns to face him. You grab his hand and push his index finger and middle finger together. “Do you see this? Now think to how much bigger your dick is than this. Okay? Now I want you to imagine someone unlike yourself. Someone who doesn’t take the time to make sure you’re wet or lubricated or whatever the fuck. Someone who wouldn’t even make time for the foreplay, someone who took their penis and shove it inside of me so hard I fucking bled out afterwards! Someone who completely overpowered me to the point where if I had decided to fight back something worse could’ve happened! That’s the fucking difference. Is that answer you were hoping for? Are you fucking happy now?!” You were bawling your eyes out. Harry was sobbing. You hated seeing him like this, but you needed him to hear this. He had never spoken to you like this, he had never been so insensitive with you.

“I…I don’t even know what to say.” He says between tears. “I’m so so-“

“Don’t. I can’t hear that word again. It means nothing to me right now.” You sigh. “I’m gonna go take a sleeping pill, I’ll be right back.” Before you can leave he speaks up.

“If you want me to go, I’ll go. I really don’t want to, especially because you’re upset with me.” He wipes his eyes as he gets out of the bed. “I could kill that guy, I really could. If I ever run into him again, I’ll-“

“You’ll what? Assault him? Great, so you’ll get arrested.”

“Why didn’t you ever press charges?”

“Because at the time I didn’t think it was…I mean I thought it was consensual. Please don’t victim shame me, Harry.”

“I’m not!” He was defeated. You watch him pull his pants on.

“Sleep on the couch.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to leave, but I also don’t want to be next to you right now. The couch turns into a futon. There’s pillows and blankets inside the coffee table.”

“So, I’m going to sleep out there, while you stay in here?”

“Yes. I mean, if you want to go, you can, but I don’t want that.”

He left the room, and you listen to see if he’ll stay. You hear him creek the coffee table open, and it puts you at ease. None of this was really his fault. He was speaking up about how felt, and you couldn’t fault him for that. The way he went about it, however, was complete shit. He did ruin the night, you couldn’t excuse that. You thought it was nice that he wanted to be so close with you, so intimate. You wanted that too, you were just scared. Rightfully so. You went through something traumatic. He had been amazing for over three months. He was bound to breakdown at some point.

Harry wanted to throw up. He was doing the same thing to you did to him that caused your first fight. Only he did it ten times worse. You were having a perfectly romantic evening, and part of his old self kicked in. The Harry that just wanted to get his dick wet. The Harry that was scared of commitment. He didn’t regret inviting you to meet his family, he was excited about it actually. So why did he regress? Why did he have to say those things to you? He knew as soon as his statements left his lips, he was completely wrong. He loved you so much, was it so bad that he couldn’t have sex with you the way he wanted? He couldn’t bare the thought of someone hurting you the way you described. He felt tears roll down his cheeks. There was no way he was going to sleep. He just wanted to curl up next to you. He knew you would need to be held, but he wanted to be held by you.

Around one in the morning, after tossing and turning for hours, you sat up. You had calmed down, and you weren’t as upset. Still really annoyed at what went down, but not enough to still want him away from you. He had to be freezing out there with the thin blanket you kept for the futon. You wrapped yourself in your comforter and pad out to the living room. He was lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His feet hung over the edge. You crawled onto the futon, and put the comforter over to the two of you. He looked at you confused, but took you in his arms, and held you tight.

“I won’t ever expect you to understand what I’ve been through, and I shouldn’t have been so graphic with you earlier. But I have valid reasons for not being ready for you in that way yet.”

“I can’t take back what I said, but please know I regret all of it. I was being an idiot, and made so much blow up. I love you so much, you know that right?”

“Yes, I love you too. I couldn’t sleep without you.” You say nuzzling into him.

“I couldn’t either.” You both lay there a minute. “Do you mind if we go back to your room? My feet are danglin’ here.” You start laughing.

“Only if you carry me.”

Harry scoops you up in the comforter, and quickly carries you back to the bedroom. You two face each other, tangling your legs, and wrapping your arms around each other. It was your second fight, and a bad one at that. But, you were happy he didn’t leave. You were getting better at working through these things. You both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Harry woke up with your hair tickling his nose. Your body was mostly on top of his. He was a dick to you last night, and he needed to find a way to make up for it. He played with your hair and rubbed your back lightly. You nuzzled into him and let out soft sighs of affection. You fell into an early morning dream.

You were walking on the street, dressed for work. No one else was around. You had yours and Niall’s coffees in your hands. A man bumps right into you, causing you to drop the coffees. When he apologizes you see that it’s Jake.

“You!”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“How could you not remember me?!” You punch him in the face and start to run away.

Suddenly, you’re flying through the air. You blink and you find yourself seated on an airplane, looking out the window. You turn to see who’s sitting next you. It’s Harry. He looks at you and smiles. His hand reaches for you, you think he’s going to take your hand, but instead he pats your tummy. When you look down you see that your belly is swollen. You look at your left hand and see a wedding ring on your finger. You feel confused and worried. Your heart rate accelerates. Causing you to jolt awake.

You let out a sound to catch your breath as your eyes pop open. You look down at Harry to see a concerned expression on his face. Before he can say anything you jump out of bed to look at yourself in the mirror. You lift your shirt to inspect your stomach, which was still flat. You catch your breath.

“Jesus…” You say to yourself.

“Are you alright? You were fine and then you started breathing heavy?” He asks, sitting up.

“Yeah, I just had a really weird dream.”

“What happened?” You turn to look at him.

“I saw him on the street, and I punched him in the face…and then I was flying, and then on an airplane….and you were there with me…and I was…”

“You were what?” You grab your stomach and turn to the mirror to inspect once more that you were, in fact, not pregnant. It would be impossible for you to be anyways, but it still scared you.

“Um…” You turn to face him, your face flushing. “I was pregnant, I think. Either that or just really fat.”

“Oh.” Harry imagined you for a brief moment pregnant with his child. It didn’t scare him at all.

“Scared me half to death.”

“Do you have dreams about him often?”

“Only sometimes, most of them go like that. I hit him or something and run away.” Your cheeks flush more. “I’ve dreamt about you before too, just nothing like that.” You get back onto the bed. “It was so weird.”

“Wonder why you were even thinkin’ of that.”

“I have no idea. I mean, I’ve had pregnancy dreams before, I think every girl has.” You sigh. “It’s over now, no big deal.”

“I know we talked a little bit last night, but I just wanted to say again how terrible I feel about how I acted.”

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because it’s not, but I forgive you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, I understand your frustrations. At the end of the day you’re a guy, and sex is important. I mean, it’s important to me too…I’m not saying it only matters on the guy’s end. And we have been together for over three months, so it may feel odd that we haven’t done it yet. I guess I just thought we were moving at a good enough pace.”

“We are, we totally are. I don’t know why I was feeling that way last night.”

“I know you don’t think you have all of me, but you do.” You put a hand on his cheek. “You have more of me than I’ve ever given to anyone. I’m all yours Harry, no one else’s.” He leans into your touch.

“I’m all yours too.” Harry’s phone rings, it’s Niall. “One sec, love.” He swipes the phone to answer. “Yeah?”

“What time are we meetin’ up?”

“Don’t know, what time works for you?”

“In like an hour maybe? I just got back to my place. You could come over here if ya want.”

“Yeah, sounds good, I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.” Harry hangs up and looks back at you. “I’m gonna hang out with Niall for a bit today, that alright?”

“Of course! You don’t have to ask me to go see your friends babe.” He melts at the term of endearment. You really did forgive him. He’s allowed to be frustrated or in a bad mood once in a while. You weren’t going to hold it against him. You weren’t mad at the thought of having a little alone time either.

“Right, well, I’m gonna get goin’ then.” He kisses you on the top of your forehead and gets out of bed. You watch him as he gets dressed. “I’ll call you later?”

“Sounds good.”

And with that he left. Your Friday night from hell was officially over.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut ifc #angst #fluff #smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst fic #harry styles fluff fic #please don't be mad at me #he was just a little too perfect

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winnipegpatty · 5 years

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no one for me but you | s.m. one shot

a/n: this is an anon request for overprotective!jealous! Shawn. Ask and you shall receive. Feedback is appreciated! Consider buying me a coffee, to support my bad habits if you enjoy (link is in the bio)!

Warnings: language, a bit of unwanted physical contact but nothing super serious.

Words: 2.4k

“I don’t want to tell them yet,” she whispered into Shawn’s shoulder on their first morning waking up together.

Shawn hummed an acknowledgement of her words.

“It’s just, they’re our best friends yeah? And I don’t want it to be weird that two of the pals in the group ended up together. It could make things awkward.”

“Okay, Y/N,” Shawn smiled into her hair, kissing the top of her head lightly, “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Y/N leaned up to lightly kiss Shawn on the lips before whispering a quiet thank you.

___

“It’s time to get drunk, bitches!” Brian hollered to their friends as they all threw back a shot together.

There was no specific purpose for tonight's outing. Nothing to celebrate, no accomplishments made. Tonight was just a night for them, their group of best friends who were all home at the same time. That was something to celebrate in and of itself these days.

After their shot, Shawn grabbed a Corona and Y/N got a cocktail. It had been a while since their group had managed to all be together, what with Shawn on his most recent festival tour run. Not to say the group hadn’t hung out, it just hadn’t included everyone. Y/N had actually managed to get out to a couple of Shawn’s shows, but even she hadn’t seen Shawn for a couple of weeks. Hanging out with the group without him, just wasn’t quite the same. Without his laughter in the mix, everything somehow felt bland to her.

But Shawn being away, had given her time to reconnect to their other friends again, seeing as she’d been spending most of her free time with Shawn when he was home. And she was grateful for that. It meant that now today, despite Shawn being home, she wasn’t attached to his hip like she might have been in their first month of dating. She’d reintegrated herself into the group of friends, and was currently talking to Brian about some new video game he’d just purchased and was trying to figure out.

Shawn was across from them talking to Julia. She and Niall had joined their group for the night because they were in town for tour for a couple of days. Julia laughed at something Shawn said, and Y/N smiled softly, loving that Shawn had such good friends within the industry.

“Hey,” Brian asked, lightly laying a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. She turned away from Shawn reluctantly, before giving her attention back to Brian. “Do you want to go dance?” He jerked his head back to the dance floor.

Y/N was about to say she wanted to wait a bit before getting on the dance floor, but three other friends hollered at Brian’s suggestion in agreement. Moments later she was being drug into the throng of pulsing bodies, moving along with the beat of music, and leaving Shawn in the dust.

Y/N wasn’t sure how long they’d been dancing, but everyone seems to have gone through a couple more drinks, before she felt a body slink up a bit behind her.

“Having fun without me?” Shawn whispered, sending goosebumps down her spine.

“Maybe,” she looked over her shoulder through hooded eyes. “What’s it to ya, Mendes?”

Shawn chuckled before moving away from her body just a titch as to not seem uncomfortably close for friends, and she’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t drop just a bit. She wondered in her drunken thoughts, if it was finally time to tell people they were dating. It had been four months after all, and a part of the reasoning she’d had to begin with was in case they fizzled out and went nowhere. She didn’t want there to be an awkward tension left in the group in their demise. But now, she knew that wasn’t happening now because Shawn was it for her. There was no one else, and she’s pretty sure Shawn felt the same way.

Maybe they could talk about it tomorrow.

They continued to dance until a familiar song came through the speakers and everyone hollered at the top of their lungs. All eyes flew to Shawn who just laughed, as his Zedd remix of Lost in Japan hit the crowd.

“All it takes is one flight, we’d be in the same time zone.” The entire group of friends is screaming at the top of their lungs to show just how obnoxious the human race can be when inhibited with alcohol. But Shawn is eating it up, dancing with his friends and singing just as loudly. They’re laughing, and Shawn is smiling, and Y/N is living.

When the song eventually came to a sad end, the group calmed down again, everyone separating into previous conversations or dance partners. Shawn pulled Y/N back just a touch.

“Come with me,” he said, dropping her hand and walking away from their friends.

Y/N followed, leaving a bit of space between them so it wasn’t quite as obvious that they were walking away from the group together. Shawn led them into a poorly lit corner of the bar, far from their friends. He backed himself into a wall and gently pulled Y/N into his body.

“Hi,” he said, tugging gently on her hand. His other hand went to her neck.

She smiled before pushing up on her toes, and pressing into Shawn’s lips. “Hi,” she whispered against him. He smiled into her as they continued to kiss for another moment or two before Y/N pulled away, just inches away from his face. She took a breath, letting it out.

This wasn’t really the place to have an intimate conversation with your boyfriend, but there was something about having to kiss Shawn in a dark corner, that made her upset. They were going to talk about this now, “I want to tell our friends about us.” She was verging on drunk, but not drunk enough that she didn’t know what she was saying.

Shawn smiled at her, pecking her softly. “That’s great babe. We can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

He was such a gentleman. Shawn knew her well enough to know she wasn’t drunk, and yet he was still going to wait until they were both completely sober to have a conversation like this. That was sweet; Y/N could admit it. She simply nodded before resting her forehead on his shoulder for a moment.

“I missed you,” she mumbled into him.

Shawn smiled, “Missed you too, babe.”

She looked at him, knowing their time was coming to an end soon. Their friends would wonder where they were. Their groups always stayed together on outings like this. These were friend outings, not find someone to go home with outings. So they really couldn’t stay away long. Shawn smiled and kissed her forehead lightly, before pushing them off the wall.

“You go back; I’m going to go get another drink.”

Y/N nodded, heading back into the crowd of dancing bodies.

___

It was about an hour later when the sloppy drunken state had hit a handful of the group. Brian and Jon were particularly tipsy, which really didn’t mean much good would be happening. Y/N is pretty sure Jon is shouting lyrics to a song that he’s literally writing spontaneously, and people are starting to look at their group more than what is comfortable. Matt is actually holding up surprisingly well. Shawn is laughing with his entire body at something Niall is saying, and Y/N is just observing everything. She does that a lot, just observes. Her friends make her so incredibly happy, but she also just loves experiencing their happiness second hand. There’s really not many feelings that are better than watching someone else experience joy.

It’s intoxicating really.

“Hey, Y/N,” Brian hollered at her from across the group that was dancing together.

“Yeah?” She responded, curiosity lacing her tone.

Brian jerked his head in fashion of encouraging to come join her, Y/N slowly joined Brian on his side of the circle.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just haven’t seen you in a while.” Brian shrugged his shoulders.

Y/N eyed him suspiciously.

“Brian, I saw you like three days ago?”

Brian looked at the ceiling, like he was counting days or something. He hummed. “I don’t think so,” he slurred. Brian slung his arm around her shoulder, leaning his bodyweight against you. “I mean like, I’d remember that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We literally all went to get Chinese food around the corner from your place.”

Brian just hummed in response, but as he moved to the music, he pulled Y/N’s body along with his.

“You look real nice tonight,” Brian said after a moment.

Y/N laughed, “Thanks.” But didn’t say anything else.

They swayed awkwardly for another minute before Brian tried a third time, “You wanna dance with me?”

“We are dancing,” she responded, referring to their swaying movement.

“Nah, like dance with me.” Brian asked, pulling her closer to his side.

Y/N tried to pull back a bit, but even drunk, Brian's grip around her shoulder was stronger and overpowering her.

“I don’t think so, Bri.”

“Ah come on, Y/N. Just for fun.” Brian swung Y/N around a bit so they were facing each other, and Y/N was uncomfortably close to his chest.

“I really don’t want to dance,” Y/N said stiffly, her hands coming up to Brian’s chest to try and push him away.

Brian’s grip held firm, “Just dance, hun. Let loose a little.”

“Brian, stop.” She said more firmly this time, trying once more to push Brian away. She felt his arms stiffen around her, keeping her in place yet again. He grumbled a bit in frustration. “Please let go of me,” Y/N added.

“Don’t be so stuck up.” Brian said getting most annoyed every moment. “I’m just tryin’ to have a good time.”

Y/N saw Shawn coming up behind Brian right as she pushed back against Brian again, this time with full force, finally breaking through his arms. She stumbled backwards, but Shawn caught her just in time to keep her from falling to the ground.

“Back off Brian,” Shawn gritted through his teeth as he helped Y/N up to standing. Shawn’s predatory stance made her wonder if he’d actually fight Brian over this.

Brian scoffed, “Get off your high horse, Shawn. We’re just having some fun.”

“Doesn’t look like she was having fun to me, man. How about we keep our hands off people who don’t want to be touched?”

Brian took a step towards Y/N, but Shawn stepped in front of her, effectively blocking Brian’s move.

“Oh come on, Shawn. Who’s saying she didn’t wanna be touched?”

“I think she told you,” Shawn stated with finality.

Y/N stepped closer to Shawn, trying to pull him away from Brian. “Hey it’s fine, Shawn. He’s drunk. You know he’s not usually like this.” She tried to remove them completely from the situation, but Shawn wasn’t having that.

“No, fuck that. It doesn’t matter if he’s drunk. He still can’t touch you.”

“What’s the big fucking deal to you, Shawn!?” Brian hollered at him.

“The big fucking deal,” Shawn seethed, “Is that you’re touching my girlfriend when she asked you not to.”

The reality of what Shawn had said didn’t settle in until he realized the group was staring right at the two of them. Y/N’s hand holding Shawn, trying to get him to back off, and Shawn’s chest puffed up, making himself bigger to Brian. From the outside looking in, Y/N is sure they look like a couple, with Shawn playing the part of overprotective boyfriend.

“Shit.” Shawn mumbled, turning around to Y/N with wide eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it.”

Y/N shrugged lightly, “It’s okay, Shawn. We were going to tell them eventually anyway.”

“Y’all are fucking?” Brian spewed from behind them in disbelief, where Matt was doing his best to defuse Brian.

Shawn whipped around, “No, we aren’t fucking. We’re dating. We have been for months, thank you.”

“Hey congrats, man.” Niall thumped his hand on Shawn’s back, completely disregarding the tension of the situation with his goofy smile. “Knew something had to be going on with how happy you’d been lately.”

Shawn smiled at Niall, and then turned to Y/N. “Can we leave? I want to go home.”

She nodded at Shawn, grabbing his hand before lightly pulling him to the door. She threw some goodbyes towards their friends, but focused her eyes on Shawn. He found his Tesla waiting for them where they’d left it on the side of the road. Getting in, Shawn turned to Y/N.

“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want them to know, and I fucked up. Especially like that. That was probably the worst possible way to tell them, but Brian was being a fucking dick. He shouldn’t have been touching you without your permission. That’s fucked up.” Shawn was rambling. He did that a lot when he was nervous or trying to apologize. But really to Y/N there was nothing for him to apologize for. He was trying to keep his girlfriend from being harassed at a bar, that was it. She could appreciate that side of him, wanting to protect her. And he hadn’t punched anyone or done anything he’d regret in the morning, so it was a win in her book.

“Shawn,” she placed her hand on his leg to still him. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I appreciate what you did for me. And I told you, I was ready to tell them. I don’t want to hide from it anymore.” She leaned over to kiss Shawn on the lips, savoring the taste on his lips.

Y/N pushed herself over the console of the car and into Shawn’s lap. Her short silky dress rode up her thighs, where Shawn’s hands instinctively clung to her skin. Shawn moaned into her lips, throwing his head back onto the headrest of his seat.

“I don’t want to hide either,” Shawn said through his heavy breathing. “Not when I know that there’s no one for me but you.”

“No one else for me either, baby,” Y/N responded before diving back into Shawn, overwhelming her senses with him.

[tags in comments]

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes writing #shawn peter raul mendes #fic #fanfic #writing #my writing #mine #imagine #overprotective shawn

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mikkomacko · 5 years

Text

The True Encounter XI

Three days after Harry and y/n officially became mates, their cycles came to an end. And while the burning arousal faded away, the bubbly feeling did not. If anything it grew, filling the space the arousal had once taken up.

Harry's watching FRIENDS, y/n still asleep on his naked chest and his body buzzing with a calming peacefulness. He doesn't know how to describe the feeling of being bonded. He doesn't feel much different but he feels insanely relaxed, he feels lighter. Despite the ache in his thighs and hips from rutting into y/n for the past 4 days, and the presence of her wolf in his, Harry thinks the two of them could just float away.

He feels her wake up before he sees it. The extra grogginess he was feeling in his head and chest stirs, informing him that his other half is starting to stir.

And then he feels her moving, hand sliding up from his bare hip to his ribs, fingers soft on his rib-cage. Harry smiles, warmth flooding over him as she scents him for a moment and then she's moving down to his bonding gland, tenderly kissing the still healing wound.

"Mornin' puppy." Harry murmurs, stroking her hair and kissing the crown of her head. His stomach stirs pleasantly.

"Good morning H." She softly squeezes the chub on his side, smiling up at him. Harry gazes down at her, very aware of the fact that it gives him a double chin but doesn't care. He's too busy enjoying the happiness that's radiating off of her.

He brushes hair away from her neck, thumbing over the fading bruises that were left by his mouth. Her eyes flutter shut, a sleepy smile on her lips, and when he brushes over her bite mark, she lets out a small purr that has Harry's heart aching.

"Should we have breakfast with mum today?" Harry questions, still soothing the bruise around the punctures his teeth left on her.

She nods, chin briefly digging into his chest. Her smile grows, showing off her teeth. "Everyone will know now." She whispers proudly. "They'll know we're bonded and that you're alpha now."

Harry grins, kissing her forehead. He knows she can feel the swell of emotion in his chest, but he's not sure she understands what his wolf is trying to communicate, so he cups her chin and pecks her lips.

"They'll know that you're luna," He smirks. "That you're all mine."

Harry feels ten times bigger as he strolls to the pack house, strong arm wrapped around the shoulders of his luna. Pack members gaze at them curiously, picking up on the change in their alpha’s scent and the fact that another authoritative scent was flowing around.

Y/n blushes each time, arm tightening around Harry’s lean waist as her shyness floods through both of their veins. While she may being feeling bashful, Harry is nothing but prideful.

He struts through the village, holding y/n as if she were a trophy, and smirking at everyone that walked by them.

By the time they reach the pack house, Harry can hear the excited whispers coming from the wolves around him and he knows it won't be long before the whole village is made aware of the news.

It's got Harry buzzing with giddiness. He's so excited he can't seem to stop touching y/n; squeezing her to his chest in the elevator, hands firm on her hips as they climb the stairs, giggling when Harry trips.

"You two are making quite a racket." Anne greets them at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over her torso but smiling proudly at her son.

"Oh," Harry laughs, lifting himself from the stair he crashed into. "'Ello mum."

Anne gives him a scolding look, her lips now pursed together. Even so, her eyes have a happy twinkle in them that makes Harry giggle.

"We've got news!" Harry exclaims, rushing y/n up the stairs with a push to her bum. She swats Harry's hands away with a laugh. He instead pushes on her lower back.

"I think I may already know this news." Anne beams, hugging y/n. "Hello dear."

Y/n mumbles a 'hello' back, stepping out of the way so Harry can hug his mother. Ecstatic that his mom already knows, Harry tugs down the corner of his shirt, not caring that he audibly tears a few threads.

Grinning proudly, Harry brushes his fingers over his healing bite. He meets his mom's eyes, biting his lips when he sees the tears in them.

"I've got my purpose now, mum."

Anne let's out a wet laugh, lunging to hug her baby boy and press motherly kisses to his cheek. Harry thinks of all the times she used to do that when he was a child. Of course, back then he was shorter than her so they were dotted across his forehead.

"I'm so happy for you two!" Anne pulls away from Harry, now hugging y/n tightly. Y/n's heart swells, squeezing Anne as if she were her own mother.

Harry wraps his arms around both of them, resting his cheek on top of y/n's head and closing his eyes. He can feel the emotions wafting off of y/n, a bit of shock and nerves but both of those are overpowered by how utterly happy she is. It makes Harry sigh in relief, pleased that he can read her like a book now. He absolutely hated the way it felt to not know how she was feeling. Their relationship has moved quickly and Harry knows it's not easy for most humans to open up right away and he respects that. But he's desperately longed to know what she's thinking when he kisses her or if she's sleeping peacefully or fitfully.

Now he'll never have to wonder.

Harry's taken out of his thoughts by an excited gasp from his mother. He pulls back, allowing Anne to step away but he keeps an arm around y/n.

After a moment of just smiles, Anne finally responds to Harry's questioning glance. "We get to plan both of your coronations!"

Harry grins enthusiastically but his stomach flips in panic as he remembers what he had planned for the weekend with y/n's parents. However, his rut had gotten in the way of it and now Harry has to figure out how to fix it.

He glances at y/n, hoping she didn't feel the negative change in him but of course she has and she's looking at him with worried eyes. Harry forces himself to relax, smooshing a kiss to her forehead.

"It's okay," He tells her, his wolf speaking to her. "I'll explain later but it's nothing to worry about."

Immediately, she relaxes, melting back into Harry's side. "We can't wait." Y/n beams.

In preparation for her upcoming induction as luna, y/n stayed in the pack house with Anne and Gemma for a couple of days. While it was practically unbearable for Harry to be away from his recently bonded to mate, he found it extremely convenient that y/n had to be away from him right now.

"What'd ya tell y/n before ya left?" Niall asks, changing the radio station of y/n's car. Harry had picked him up early this morning, demanding he come on an overnight trip with him.

"Told her tha' I wanted to spend tonight havin' fun with my mates before I have to start my alpha duties." Harry replies, nervously switching lanes and glancing at the GPS to make sure he's driving the right way.

"You lied to her?"

"No!" Harry exclaims, quick to defend himself. "Really did want to hang out with yeh and I just figured we could hang out while I visit my future law parents."

"Law parents?" Niall questions.

"That's what humans call the parents of their husband or wife. Heard it on TV."

Niall snorts. "You sure that's what yeh heard?" He says teasingly. "This isn't another hurse and house mix-up?"

Harry blushes, embarrassment pounding in his chest. He swears he had heard the people on TV call a human den a hurse but alas, it was house. And once y/n told Niall, Harry knew they'd never forget it.

"I'm sure!" Harry insists but racks his brain to try and think if that's what he actually heard. His cheeks burn even more when he realizes he can't remember what exactly was said.

"So how long is this drive?" Niall sighs, reclining his seat a bit. Harry looks at the GPS again, tracking the mileage and time left.

"About an hour until we're there, then we're taking 'em to lunch and m'going to ask. If they say yes, I've gotta stop at a shop on the way home." Harry fidgets, his embarrassment being replaced with nerves. He really hopes today goes as planned.

"Do they know you're coming?"

"Of course," Harry nods. "M'not rude, I wouldn't just show up announced. I spoke to her mum yesterday."

"I don't think it's rude if they're ya law parents." Niall says thoughtfully, gazing out the window. Harry shrugs, not sure what to say and they fall into silence.

To his right comes the gas station him and y/n had stopped at last week. Where she had very gently untangled gum from his hair and lovingly tucked him into the passenger seat that Niall is now sat at.

It makes his heart ache, so much that his eyes start to sting and he's calling out for her. "I miss you, love."

He can feel the jump in her heart and the warmth in her stomach. She heard him, she can read everything he tries to tell her.

Harry waits, hoping she'll reply. Fingers tightly gripping the wheel, he sniffles back tears, hoping Niall doesn't notice.

Just when Harry thinks she won't say anything, his phone chimes from the cup holder. A notification flashes across the screen of the car, displaying y/n's number and a text.

Puppy:

Miss you more <3

"I hope everything is okay now Harry." Y/n's mother says, reaching across the table to pat his hand. "We were so upset when you two had to leave early."

"Everything's perfect now." Harry replies, truthfully. Ever since that night, when he bonded y/n, everything has been perfect.

"That's good." Her father smiles with a nod. Harry's heart thumps proudly. They're having a good time, they're actually getting to know Harry. They care about him and his family.

"So how long have you two been friends?" Christy questions, taking a bite of salad once she's spoken.

Harry looks at Niall, who's already looking at him. "Forever." They say in unison, Harry chuckling after and turning back to his future law parents.

"We've known each other since we were kids." Harry adds.

"Been best friends ever since." Niall pats Harry's shoulder roughly.

"That's so wonderful." Christy coos, placing a hand over her heart. Harry realizes she does that often and it makes him smile. "Y/n never had a friend like that."

"In fact," George adds. "She's never brought anyone to meet us since she moved out."

Their words make Harry frown and he realizes that y/n has never mentioned any friends or acquaintances. He's never seen any proof that she has any relationships with anyone but him and her family.

"She's just a quiet one." Niall answers for him, sensing that Harry's a bit shocked. He can't believe he didn't notice that she's been alone all these years. And why? Why would people not want to spend time with her?

"Speaking of her," Christy eyes Harry with fake suspicion. "Why is she not with you today?"

"She was spending time with ma family today." Harry explains, smiling nervously. Now's his chance. "And I was hoping I'd get to ask yeh two something?"

George and Christy stop eating, both looking at Harry intently. "What's the matter son?" George says gently.

Harry opens his mouth but his words falter. What if they say no? What if when they find out he's a wolf, they don't like him?

Niall bumps Harry with his elbow.

Clearing his throat and feeling y/n's heartbeat in his, Harry finally speaks. "I know y/n and I haven't been dating very long and I know I haven't known yeh two very long either but I really really love your daughter.

"I would do anything to make her happy and make sure she's cared for. Ever since I met her, my life has been complete. I can't stand the thought of her not being in my life."

Nervously fidgeting with the tablecloth, Harry inhales deeply. "If it's alright with you, may I ask y/n to marry me?"

The table is silent. Harry can hear his heart beating in his ears and his fingers have gone numb. George is staring at Harry as if analyzing him and tears have welled up in Christy's eyes.

"I promise I'll never hurt her, she means the world to meh." Harry adds, voice croaky.

Finally, after an unbearably painful minute or two, Christy nods with tears on her cheeks. Harry huffs in relief, his chest feeling ten times lighter.

"Really?"

"Of course." George finally says. Harry laughs, giddy and welling up with tears of his own. "Now get over here and give us a hug, son."

Harry doesn't hesitate to stand up and move around the table. Christy wraps him up in a hug first, followed by George.

"Welcome to the family dear." Christy squeezes him tighter.

"Sure yeh don't want this one?" Niall asks, tapping the glass of star shaped ruby ring. Harry crinkles his nose at it, shaking his head.

"Looks like something yeh get outta one o'them twisty candy boxes at the store." Harry grimaces. "The metal ones."

"Yeh mean a candy machine?" Niall snorts. Harry blushes, glaring at his best friend. A candy machine? Is that really what that's called?"

"You've never even been to town!" Harry groans. "How do yeh know what it's called?"

"I watch TV too." Niall defends. "And I actually listen."

Harry scowls.

"Mr. Styles?" Harry softens his face, turning to look at the sales associate and smiling politely. "Here's your ring sir."

The sales lady presents Harry with a velvet box, lifting the lid to display the ring Harry had picked out weeks ago. It's thin and silver, dotted with four small diamonds that sparkle brightly under the lights.

The underside of it is neatly engraved with his last name, another way of him marking y/n as his own.

"That's beautiful." Niall whispers, breaking Harry out of his trance. Harry nods, taking the box from the woman with a grateful nod.

"Alright Niall," Harry gently closes the lid of the box. "Pretend you're y/n and I'm going to propose to yeh." Niall nods, jutting a hip out and placing his hands on his hips, sassily.

Harry clears his throat, dropping to one knee. "Y/n?" Harry lifts the lid, gazing up at Niall and pretending it's his luna. "Will yeh please marry me?"

As soon as he's finished, Niall is squealing quite loudly and jumping up and down. "Of course Harry!" Niall beams, still jumping up and down.

Blushing with embarrassment, Harry rises to his feet and punches Niall in the shoulder. "When have yeh ever seen y/n like that?" He hisses.

Niall pouts, rubbing his shoulder. "I don't know, I don't see her very often, yeh wanker!"

"Whatever," Harry sighs, looking down at the ring in his hand and smiling. "This is the one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Harry beams. "This is the ring, I have to get it for her."

Niall nods, patting him on the back. "I don't know the importance of weddings, being a wolf 'n all but m'proud of yeh."

Harry thanks him, allowing Niall to hug him while he sniffles into his shoulder.

"I love you."

Harry grins when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. That's his luna, that's his wife and he loves her dearly.

#harry styles #the true encounter #wolf #wolf harry #werewolf imagine #werewolves #werewolf #supernatural #fanfiction #fanfic #one direction #solo harry #bonding #mating #alpha harry #alpha

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better-not-said · 6 years

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Ophelia felt great. Of course it’s probably down to the 3 glasses of Prosecco she’s already consumed but she’s getting ready to make her escape to meet up with Niall.

Her parents are helping her aunt and uncle, busy with customers. Her cousin Blake is working at the bar and his younger sister Harper is serving tables. Ophelia grabs her coat from the back room and starts slowly edging her way through the crowd to the exit. She slips by unnoticed and passes an incoming group of people her age, squeezing around them and onto the sidewalk. She pulls her coat on and heads up Tide Pool Lane. It had rained all day today and Ophelia spent her day painting whatever entered her mind. She made sure to hide the book so her parents wouldn’t find it again. Thankfully, the rain stopped in time for the evening festivities but it left the street shining, reflecting the lights of the pubs open along the lane. The glowing pavement left a sense of calm over the otherwise busy street. Ophelia’s boots carry her quickly toward the opposite end of the street, weaving in between groups of people on their night out, as she’s eager to escape the cold and be in Niall’s heated embrace.

Ophelia reaches the boisterous Irish pub and she can hear a live band playing. She makes her way inside and lets Niall’s mum, Maura take her coat to be hung up and she steps further into the pub. The atmosphere is incredible. People are everywhere, laughing, talking, dancing, and drinking. Televisions over the bar are playing the same New Year’s Eve special that was on at Dunphee’s. Only about 35 minutes of 2017 remain. Ophelia intends to spend them with Niall. She looks around for him, her eyes drifting along the bar as she walks by. The band onstage finishes a song and the pub claps and hollers. Ophelia stands on her tiptoes, searching for Niall.

“Thank you,” his voice suddenly booms through the bar and Ophelia’s eyes snap to the stage. He’s standing in front of a microphone; a guitar strapped across his front, five boys surrounding him with various instruments.

“This is our last song. It’s a new one. We finished putting it together this morning,” he lets out a nervous chuckle. “It’s called The Tide,” Niall’s smooth voice announces.

Ophelia’s frozen in her spot as Niall starts to sing. She hadn’t known it was him that was singing when she first came in but now she’s listening. He croons into the microphone like a natural, his warm voice blanketing the noisy pub, captivating them. The bubbles in her bloodstream from the Prosecco seem to move in slow motion as the song washes over her. The lyrics set Ophelia’s brain off running. This song...isn’t about her, is it? It couldn’t be...but then again, maybe.

The song crescendos as Niall calls out the lyrics before it fades off. Ophelia barely hears the crowd applause as Niall and his band head off the stage, thanking their audience. Music comes on the pub’s stereo system as everyone starts up conversations or continues dancing. Ophelia is still stunned by the song and how much of an incredible performer Niall is that she’s hardly moved by the time Niall is back onstage helping his band deconstruct their setup to make way for the next act. She watches him through gaps in the crowd, wondering if he’s noticed she’s here. He doesn’t glance her way, just smiles and laughs with his buddies as they effortlessly clear the stage. Minutes later, the six boys are making their way towards the bar, towards Ophelia. Niall spots her quickly and his face lights up. He reaches for her, pulling her into a hug. Ophelia lets herself melt into his sweaty embrace, the cold water bottle in his hand being pressed to her back.

“You made it!” he says when he pulls away.

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me you were that good,” she teases and Niall chuckles.

“We don’t do many gigs outside of here,” he admits, his cheeks heating up even more. “Oh, guys,” Niall turns to his bandmates. “This is Ophelia. Ophelia this is Gerry, Josh, Jake, Conor, and Louis.”

“Nice to meet you,” she offers them a smile before sneaking into Niall’s side as she accepts their greetings. He happily tucks Ophelia in and she squeezes his waist, happy to be by his side. The boys start ordering drinks from Jamie who seems to always be working at the bar every time Ophelia is in there.

“You want anything?” Niall asks the brunette he’s holding onto.

“Hmm, Prosecco,” she hums.

“How much have you had already?” he asks after putting her order in to Jamie.

“A bit,” she giggles.

“I can tell,” Niall smirks, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “You’re cute,” he hums, kissing her hair.

Five minutes later, all the boys have beers and Ophelia has her hand wrapped around another glass of bubbly liquid gold. The alcohol helps her find the confidence to strike up conversations with Niall’s friends. She asks them about school and other jobs, the instruments they play and if they cover songs. Niall watches her with adoration as she excitedly talks with his mates. They ask about her and he can see the gleam in her eyes with she starts to talk about her paintings and the gallery her work is at right now and the one she works at back in California. She and Gerry get into a spirited conversation about Picasso as Niall brings their empty drink glasses back to the bar. He catches the television above the bar and notices there are only minutes left of 2017. On his way back to his friends, a blonde girl steps in his path.

“Niall!” Penny shouts.

“Hey, Pen,” he smiles at her.

“I heard from somebody you were playing tonight,” Penny says. “I was telling my friends about how great of a singer you are.”

Niall gives a nod to Penny’s friends; girls with sparkly clothes and red lips, not exactly Niall’s type. “Well, sorry to say you missed it.”

“Oh, no,” Penny pouts as her friends sidle up to the bar. “Can I buy you a drink to say sorry for being late?”

“Um,” Niall glances back to see Ophelia still listening intently to Gerry. “I’m all set for right now, Penny.”

“Okay, well...can I at least offer you a New Year’s kiss?” Penny reaches up, putting her manicured hand on Niall’s upper arm, trying to persuade him.

“Oh, uh, I’ve got my eyes on someone already. Happy New Year, Pen,” Niall smiles, slipping past her to rejoin his friends. He wraps an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders, not glancing back to see Penny rolling her eyes.

Somehow, Bobby and Maura have gotten on stage to countdown the New Year, microphones in their hands, thanking everyone for coming to ring in 2018 with them.

Ophelia is hyperaware of Niall’s arm around her shoulders, warm and heavy, but there’s no place she’d rather be. She feels light and tingly from all the Prosecco she’s consumed and she couldn’t be happier than she is in this moment as the clock ticks under 20 seconds.

“Your mum should come on stage with us sometime!” Gerry calls to Niall, gesturing his pint in the direction of the stage. “She’s a little firecracker.”

Niall throws his head back, a loud laugh escaping him. “Absolutely not, no way.”

Gerry shrugs and laughs into his beer as Niall turns his gaze to see Ophelia smiling up at him, her eyes glittering. Niall barely hears the countdown reach 1 as he leans down to press his lips to Ophelia’s. She grips his waist firmly, pulling him so their fronts are pressed together. Niall’s arm lowers from her shoulders to press one large hand to the center of her back, holding her close to him, holding her tightly. Ophelia squeezes his midsection before opening her mouth, allowing Niall in. He tastes faintly like beer but his own personal taste overpowers it. It’s inexplicable but he tastes like the chill of misty ocean air on a sunny winter day, he tastes like lilacs and loud laughs and the twang of an acoustic guitar. Ophelia basks in all that he is, enjoying this moment for as long as it can possibly last. The pub’s gone silent around her. All she can hear is the pounding of her own heart as his tongue moves against hers, finally indulging himself in the girl he’s been entranced by since he first laid eyes on her. Ophelia’s head grows light and she has to breathe eventually, so they part all too soon, the raucous noise of the pub rushing back to her as though she’s resurfaced from underwater.

“Happy New Year, Ophelia,” Niall tells her, his warm forehead pressing against hers.

“Happy New Year,” she exchanges, pressing her lips together with a growing smile. Niall pulls away, their eyes straying only when Jake hugs Niall from behind, throwing his arms around Niall’s neck. Niall turns and starts wishing his friends a happy New Year, leaving Ophelia stunned and hoping that this year brings her everything she could ever want.

Auld Lang Syne is the soundtrack to the hugs and the clinking beers and the Happy New Years ringing through the pub. Conor and John offer to head to the bar for another round of drinks and Niall pulls Ophelia back into his arms.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says over the noise.

“Me too,” she smiles, swaying with him.

Auld Lang Syne finishes and they have drinks in their hands as a group of people file onto the stage, taking place in front of their instruments that they set up after Niall and his bandmates had cleared off.

“Do you know them?” Ophelia asks John whom she’d been speaking to since he’d handed her drink over.

“They’re alright,” John tells her. “A cover band but pretty decent. Live music is just so much better than radio.”

Ophelia nods and they launch into conversation while the band starts a cover of some song that Ophelia can’t remember the name of.

When the band starts playing a cover of Donna Lewis, Niall and Ophelia find each other immediately. They raise their drinks and belt out the words along with everyone else in the pub. Five minutes into 2018 and it’s already the best year of Ophelia’s life. Niall’s free hand is on her lower back, keeping her facing him as she sways to the music. He swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful. Her curls are messy and her cheeks are red and blotchy with the stifling warmth of the pub. Ophelia’s right hand grips her glass of Prosecco, which she’s already consumed plenty of and it’s contributing to her dancing and her singing. Her left hand rests on Niall’s shoulder, alternating gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and then the muscle that covers his body there.

Ophelia may be tipsy from the Prosecco but she’s drunk off Niall. Her lips had met his as 2017 turned into 2018 and that was more intoxicating than any sip of alcohol. With a fresh glass in her hand and her favorite song playing throughout the bar, albeit a cover, Ophelia felt euphoric. She didn’t think life could get better as 2017’s time ticked under a minute but it has. Ophelia leans up on her toes and presses a quick, surprising kiss to Niall’s lips. He has this cute, bewildered expression on his face and Ophelia can’t help but let out a gentle laugh. Niall’s features soften and he pulls Ophelia in close, his lips meeting hers once more.

They dance, surrounded by Niall’s friends, belting out the lyrics. The song ends with a round of applause for the band before they launch into a Bruce Springsteen song.

Ophelia finishes her glass of Prosecco and she tilts her head to the bar. Niall slips his hand in hers and he follows her. She deposits her glass between two people and instead of ordering another; she turns to Niall who finishes off his beer, setting the empty glass behind the girl before him. He wraps his arms around Ophelia’s waist, just wanting to be close to her after holding back since the night they met. Niall pulls them to the corridor where the toilets are located. One large hand reaches up to cradle Ophelia’s cheek, brushing some stray glitter off with his thumb.

“I’ve wanted this since the night we met,” he admits, barely able to be heard above the music.

“Yeah?” Ophelia blinks up at him and he nods.

Niall pulls her into him by her waist and brings her lips to his. She lets herself dissolve into the kiss, to be completely absorbed by Niall. Thoughts of their families disappear and in that moment, it’s just the two of them. Ophelia feels invincible in those moments she’s connected with Niall, like the tide is out and the waters are calm. Nothing can tear them apart. Except maybe the sound of her father’s booming voice.

“Where is she?!” he shouts over the music which clatters to a stop as Niall and Ophelia pull away. She looks over his shoulder and into the main room of the pub where her parents and her Uncle Nicholas are stepping further into the room. Suddenly the tide is rushing in, filling every corner it can, picking up debris and swirling it around so fast, Ophelia doesn’t know which way is up. Whispers start floating around as Bobby and Maura come face to face with the Dunphee’s. Niall moves to join his parents but Ophelia tugs on his arm, her stomach flipping nervously.

“Don’t go. Please,” she begs quietly but it’s too late, they’ve been spotted.

“Ophelia Jane Dunphee!” her mother shouts. Ophelia looks past Niall to find everyone staring into the dim hall where she and the Irish boy had snuck off. Niall takes a few steps out of the hall and Ophelia hurries forward to link her hand with his, half hiding behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Ophelia?” her father asks sternly, dark eyes flitting between his daughter and the boy he’d told her to stay away from.

“I’m, um-“ she can’t find the words to speak.

“She’s living her life,” Niall announces.

“You better stay quiet, boy,” Nicholas Dunphee hisses and Bobby moves to defend his son but Maura has a hand on his shoulder.

“Son, did you know that she’s one of them?” Bobby asks.

“You dragged her into this mess of a stupid family rivalry,” Niall explains, ignoring his father, and Ophelia feels the muscles in his back tense up. “She doesn’t have to go along with it.”

“Ophelia, come with us right now,” her mother insists.

“No,” Ophelia lifts her chin.

“Ophelia Jane, don’t make a scene,” her father demands.

“Oh, like you haven’t made one already? I’m not leaving,” she says, squeezing Niall’s hand. He squeezes back.

“This is absurd,” her mother groans before lunging for her daughter. Niall moves to block the way but his father grabs him, holding him back.

“Dad! What are you doing?” he shouts, trying to break free as Ophelia’s arm is taken by her mother. Niall uses all his strength to reach for Ophelia but his father is too strong. “Ophelia!”

“Let her go, son,”

“No, no I won’t!” Niall fights.

“Niall!” Ophelia calls and her parents pull her away.

“You should have never come here,” Nicholas tells his niece. “We’re doing you a favor. That boy is bad news.”

“You stay away from my daughter!” Ophelia’s father calls back to the Irish boy as the Dunphee’s burst out onto the street. Ophelia pushes her mother’s firm grip off her and she wrenches out of her father’s hold and makes for the door of Horan’s but her parents grab her, dragging her down Tide Pool Lane.

“You’re not welcome there anymore,” her father tells her. “Let it go.”

Ophelia can’t help it. The tears start rushing out as Ophelia’s family force her down the street, back to Dunphee’s. She lashes out once they’re in the back room, away from people enjoying their night in the pub.

“You’re all monsters!” she wails through her tears. “You’re blinded by greed!” Hiccups begin to escape her throat as she tries to condemn her family. “You have enough money. You don’t need to keep up...this act!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” her father responds.

“Yes I do,” she begs for them to listen.

“You need to calm down. Get some sleep and we’ll discuss this tomorrow,” her mother insists.

“No, let’s do this now!” Ophelia hisses.

“Harper is going to take you home,” her parents ignore her.

“I don’t need a babysitter! She’s younger than me!” Ophelia points out, gesturing to her cousin who steps into the back room.

“You need to be watched,” her father glares. “We’re very disappointed in you, Ophelia.”

“Yeah, well you ruined my life so I’m not too happy with you either.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’ve known the boy for less than week. You’ll get over it,” her mother brushes off Ophelia’s furious look. “Now go on home. No funny business.”

Ophelia stares at her mother in disbelief for a moment before finally following Harper out of the pub. Her tears fall silently as she rubs her arms, trying to keep warm because her jacket is still in the coatroom at Horan’s. Harper doesn’t say a word but Ophelia can tell that even her younger cousin is disappointed in her. Ophelia doesn’t feel an ounce of regret. She doesn’t feel sorry in the slightest. She’s numb to everything other than the feeling of being in way over her head.

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan AU #Niall AU #One Direction #my writing #Niall Horan fanfiction #Niall #eeeeee #TPL

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imagine-that-one-thing · 7 years

Text

Styles & Co. || Chapter 19.

Authors Note: Hey everyone!! Here is the Chapter. (I managed to get it finished right before I left for my mini getaway). I really hope you like it. Feel free to give me feedback and what not. I always love hearing what you guys have to say, and what you think will happen next. :) Xx

Warning: Smut Warning!! (Mother would wash my mouth out with soap and chain me to the house if she was to ever see this).

Rated M for Mature audiences: May contain, violence, sexual content and/or strong language. Don’t forget the other links: Can also be fund on WattPad, HERE Previous parts found HERE You can find my blurb Master list HERE To Enter to win tickets for Harry Styles IN Nashville TN, HERE

Harry:

I pull my eyes burning with hatred away from Charles Taylor and glance towards Niall, his own nystagmic eyes that miss nothing turning to me. His brows bump together in a scowl, his lips purse before he sighs.

“I need to go, if I stay any longer I will end up in jail,” I mutter, my eyes set on getting myself back to my Hotel without causing any sort of altercation.

I take a deep breath and Niall nods, “Let’s go.” Niall launches away from the bar, gesturing me to walk with him.

Niall and I move out of the room with all the business associates, leaving behind an opportunity as the doors shut behind us. I sigh and subtly shake my head, agitated and disappointed that I just had to make a decision to leave because of some prick that I can’t control myself around. I enter the marbled lobby that is flamed splendidly in a warm manner, nobody else accompanying the area to my surprise. I set my eyes on the tall glass doors with a gold trim, eager to step out and get myself to the Hotel so I can call Elise.

It is his voice that causes me to freeze in my tracks, my entire body going numb for a split second as my name is shifted from his repugnant margins. I jerk my body around in a sharp motion, his figure standing before me, my jaw clenching at his presence.

“What the fuck do you want?” I spit, unable to hold my harsh words from coming out. I have a lot more I would like to say, to even do, but I can’t, I can’t fuck him up while on a business trip.

He has nerve speaking my name— he has courage just being around me. He unquestionably has not learned his lesson to stay away from me. I thought I made it clear that one night, apparently he was misguided.

“How’s Elise?” He challenges as if he has a death wish upon himself.

My blood boils at her name leaving his mouth, his ruthless, revolting mouth that deserves nothing but to feel my fist hammering against it, repeatedly.

My teeth sink into my cheek as I take a profound breath, well aware that if I make a scene not only will it ruin my reputation as a businessman in this setting, but as a boyfriend. Elise will not be so generous with me the second time round if I come home after beating the shit out of someone. There is no doubt in my mind that it will just add to her stress, I don’t think she needs more of my damn troubles to become perched upon her.

“You know what, lad? She is doing great; I think the real question that needs to be asked is why you are here? And why you double crossed Logan and are now the owner of the building in Manhattan?” Niall steps in for me, not giving me a chance to spit back uncivil words that would be nothing but a string of vulgar expressions.

I don’t know what happened with Charles Taylor, or how we even managed to get in the predicaments we have with him. I don’t know where he came from or what his association is with me or Logan, all I do know is, Charles is trouble, trouble that I do not want to be associated with my business or my personal relationships.

Charles stares at the two of us with a smirk decorated across his mouth, “Me? Double cross Logan? Ha! He tried to double cross me; I just managed to get the upper hand. I’d make sure he watches his back.” Charles shrugs his shoulders without much effort, he doesn’t seem as if he cares or is in any fear at the moment. His posture is straight and firm, he is acting inferior, superior, in fact.

I roll my eyes, my fist clinching to my sides, “What the fuck do you want with the building?” I mutter, wanting answers on just what Charles has planned.

If it wasn’t for Logan, I would have the building and it wouldn’t be Charles in charge of it. Fucking, Logan.

With a tall erect posture, Charles raises a brow in an amused way, thoroughly entertained by my interest and misunderstanding of things.“It is a nice asset. You know a lot about assets and that building. Don’t you, Mr.Styles?” Charles sneers with a smile dangled on the corner of his lips.

“You’re testing my fucking limits.”

“Hmm, that pretty girl of yours has some nice assets, really nice assets… A shame if anything happened to them,” He rocks back and forth on his heels, cocky and gleeful as he taunts me.

Fuck my morals and the business.

My hands grasp his shirt and I manhandle him, thrusting him against the firm wall, a heavy huff escaping his lips as his back hits the wall with force. My anger overpowering me far more than I had expected.

I thought I could stay calm, oops.

I stare at him with dark stormed eyes that burn in his soul, but he seems unphased, he is testing me. “I bet hearing Elise’s name fall from my lips really pisses you off,” Charles grins, not seeming to be in fear of me in the slightest bit,

Crimson with fury my clenched fist makes contact with his mouth, hitting it firmly and vigorously as Elise’s name descends from them. Her name slipping from such repugnant lips sends my nerves into a furious state. He has no business pronouncing her name, he has no busy even fucking thinking about her, none.

“Harry, Harry, mate he isn’t worth it.” Niall attempts to intervein but I ignore him, my hand again making contact with Charles, something it has been desiring to do since the moment he opened his fucking mouth. He should think twice before purposely pissing me the fuck off. He has no need to be here or to be talking to me. I don’t give a damn about him, he can rot in hell for all I care.

“That’s enough, Elise doesn’t need you in jail.” Niall manages to make me release my hand from its grip on Charles shirt, my body stepping away from Charles as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

I flick my hand to the side, just now noticing the pain stinging through my knuckles from making contact with Charles.

“Don’t say her fucking name, don’t think of her, don’t even fucking breathe around her. Got it?” I mutter, “Or so fucking help me, I will put you six feet under and have no damn regrets. Stay the hell away.” I spit, not having any desire to be nice and collected with him.

Charles doesn’t say a word, he just stares at me with a slight bit of blood trickling from his lip. I take a breath and take another step back before I turn on my heel, my eyes finally looking around to see a few people have managed to catch a glimpse,

“They should take a picture, it’ll fucking last longer,” I mutter to Niall as I adjust my suit jacket and pull harshly to my front, clearing my throat as I step closer towards the doors, ignoring everyone around that may have some sort of comment to publicise in what just happened.

I step into my hotel room and let out a heavy sigh, my phone pressed to my ear as I wait for Elise to answer her phone.

When all goes to hell, I just want to hear her voice and talk to her. I never really thought I would be the man that calls his girlfriend after a lengthy, terrible day, just to hear the sound of her soft-sounding voice. But, here I am, waiting for her to pick up so I can relax for five minutes.

“Hey Harry, how are you? How did it all go?” Elise instantly challenges as I slide my jacket down my arms and throw my hotel card to the table.

“Mmm, it was terrible, Niall and I were shot down with our proposal. We are going to try again because we don’t have a plan B. I don’t know what we are going to fucking do, I hate failing.” I huff, sitting on the edge of my bed, my hand running itself through my messy hair— wishing Elise was here with me. “But, I do have good news,” I mutter, my fingers tugging at my slight curls as I hear some shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“I am sorry, Harry. You will figure it out. What’s the news darling?” Elise questions and I smile to myself, managing to hear the echo of her heels hitting the flooring of the house.

For most, hearing the tone of heels on a marble floor would become bothersome, but for me, I love it. I guess it is strange, but I love overhearing her wandering across flooring, it is soothing to me. Maybe it is because in the dead silence of the house, catching her footsteps echoing gives me a sense of clarity, it means she is still here.

When I am home, on rare occasions, and she is working late with Logan, I toss and turn in the bed worrying about where she is and how she is doing, but the minute I hear the front door open and the sound of heels echoing against the flooring, I feel at ease.

“You should be proud, I didn’t end up in jail,” I inform Elise with a small chuckle, somewhat amused with myself. The ending of tonight could have been so much worse.

“Harry,” She draws out my name, “What do you mean?” I hear her sigh on the end of the phone, her heels no longer echoing.

“Charles Taylor showed up tonight, really felt like knocking the fuck out of him, but, I was reminded that my darling wife would be very upset if I was to end up in jail.”

“Mhmm, whoever reminded you is smart… What did you do? Are you okay?”

“Ehh, I kinda… may have… punched him out a few times… but he is still breathing, he is still standing, he is fine…. anyway, how are you? How are you feeling?” I mumble my first part of my sentence,

Elise sighs on the other end of the phone, not seeming too delighted by my small disagreement.

He deserved it, he is lucky to still be alive… I want his head served to me on a silver fucking platter, but that is illegal, so I have to settle with not putting him six feet into the fuckin ground… Elise should be proud of that,

“I am great.. Thank you for asking. You need to get some sleep and calm down so I will let you go, please try not to get yourself in trouble in the mean time. I don’t want to have to kiss you from behind bars.”

“Oh, ha ha, you are funny, ye’ should be a comedian, really.” I chuckle, “Alright darling, I love you. I will talk to you at some point tomorrow.”

“I love you, I miss you, Harry.”

“I know, I miss you too,” I respond back with a smile on my face, my heart fluttering and feeling warm when I hear that she misses me.

We aren’t that overly possessive, irritating couple that can’t be away from each other without breaking down, no, that isn’t us. But, when I am away on business trips there is a part of us that becomes a little softer and vulnerable.

I am not genuinely used to waking up on my own; I am usually blessed to have Elise fast asleep beside me by the time I am needing to get up, to say the least, my bed feels empty and cold without her. My arms were cold and bare as the sheets enveloped them last night.

I heavily huff, pushing the covers off my body and sitting up, my hands running through my hair as I come to terms with the fact that Niall and I have one last shot at this business deal.

I rush myself around the hotel room, losing track of time as I ponder over what the fuck I am going to do. Their whole account is perfect for me to have, it would be one of the most successful accounts I have to date. The Consolidated Underlying Holdings the account holds such value.

I hurry out my door and close it behind me, digging around in my pocket for my phone as it rings. I hope it isn’t my possible client cancelling.

*** ***

“Hey, Elle,” I answer my call as I close my hotel room door, trying to balance all my things,

“Hey, how are you?” her voice is soft and soothing as I walk towards the elevator,

“I am exhausted but good. I have my meeting; I am waiting on Niall. How are you?.”

“I am good, do you have time to talk?.” … Elise questions with her soft voice, something telling me that this conversation is not going to be a sweet, loving conversation.

“I have a few seconds.”

“What we discussed the other night, you could be right… I don’t know if it is just stress.” Elise quietly informs me, a sniffle managing to trail its way through the line as I grow silent, my eyes widening just as the elevator doors open and I am forced to step out. “Harry?” Elise’s voice breaks, my own words becoming hitched in my chest, “Are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am here, Elle,” I mumble, my head unable to fully wrap around the idea of her possibly being pregnant. When I mentioned it the other night, I was a bit unsure on whether I actually believed whether she was or not; I thought I should just pitch her the thought, just in case. Now, now that it is something coming from her lips, I feel as thought my breath has been drawn away from me and that the walls are closing in on me. “Uh.. uhm, okay..” I stutter, trying to focus as I walk the lobby of the hotel, “I-uh- are you okay? You said you were feeling better.” I manage to question, not knowing what the fuck I am meant to say.

“You sound as though you’re breathless, are you okay?” Elise challenges,

“Yeah, had to take the stairs,” I lie, “Don’t worry about me, okay. When I get back I will take you to wherever you need to go so we can find out.” I pull myself together, knowing that she is probably just as scared and worried as I am, and I am not even the one that has to carry the baby. “Hey, darling, I hate to have to do this, but I have to go… I have my meeting, uhm… we will sort it out, I love you, Elise.”

“Okay, good luck, I love you too.”

*** ***

I hang up the phone and shove it into my pocket, taking a deep breath as Niall reaches me and takes the file from my hand, his eyes scanning over the figures, my own managing to cast themselves on a small girl that is standing unobtrusively by her mother, a blanket in her hand that drapes to the floor.

The little girl, who seems no older than three presses her hand to her mother’s leg, wanting the attention. Her mother glances down, the little girl instantly holding her arms up wanting to be in her mother’s arms. She presses her cheek to her mother’s shoulder, her eyes beaming over at me as I stare in wonderment.

That could be Elise, holding our little girl or boy as they become drowsy, in need of a small morning nap to get them through the day. That could be me bouncing our child on my hip in the lobby of my building, giving Elise the morning off of the crying squeals of an infant, the gurgling mumbles filling my lobby with nothing but joy and happiness.

“Harry, did ye’ hear me?” Niall distracts me, snapping me out of my gaze and thoughts of a baby.

I look at him, clueless to what he said.

Walking from the Hotel to the conference building, all my eyes manage to see is babies, babies everywhere. Their wide eyes peering at me in an adoring way, they little legs and arms wiggling everywhere, they button noses, and their tiny bodies seem to catch my attention.

That could be me, walking down the street and carrying my bundle of joy in my arms while bundled up in fluffy blankets and adorable onesie clothes. I can only imagine how tiny the clothes would have to be when the baby is first born—so little and dainty.

Elise:

The minute I stroll through the door I feel a sigh of relief escape me. I take notice of the dim light in the living room radiating into the hallway and I smile to myself, quite pleased to finally have Harry home. I gingerly make my way into the living room, discovering him on the couch, asleep. I step out of my heels and shrug my coat off my shoulders, sliding it down my arms before I throw it to drape over the coffee table. I move closer to the couch, my eyes glancing down at Harry, his arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted to the side as his hair messily falls flat around his face— poor thing must be exhausted. I am so glad he is finally home. He was due home hours ago, but his flight was delayed so I didn’t get to meet him at the airport like planned.

I gingerly lower myself onto the couch, his body instantly stirring,

“Hey, love,” he mumbles, his arms immediately moving so I can relax on his chest, his voice deep and husky like.

“Hi,” I nestle into him, his luscious scent becoming inhaled as his arm wraps around me, “I know what I want for my birthday,” I whisper, feeling content for the first time since he has been gone.

“Mhm, what’s that my darling?” He drowsily questions while I cuddle into him, his warmth radiating me,

“A puppy,” I respond, feeling his chest rise as he chuckles,

“No,” .. “I like how the first thing you say to me is that you want a puppy, not that you love me or missed me.” His voice is raspy and full of exhaustion as his draws out his words in an extra slow tone.

“I missed you,” I murmur into his broad chest, his hand benevolently flowing through my hair, “quite a lot.” I carefully lift my head off of his chest, grinning down at him before I caress my lips to his, feeling every curve of his mouth for a moment.

“I missed you too, Elle.” He whispers against my soft lips,

“You never told me if you got the clients,” I whisper, curious as to whether he managed to win over the potential clients. Harry heavily sighs, his chest rising and falling, the quietness giving me my answer.

I nestle back down to rest on him, “it is okay, there will be other clients. I still love you, darling,” I assure him, his fingers still running through my hair soothingly,

“Mhm, I love you,” Harry hums, “We should go to bed,” he whispers, stopping me from falling asleep on him.

I hear Harry’s voice echoing from somewhere down the hallway as I leave my body tangled within the comfort of our freshly washed sheets.

“Elise, where the hell is my phone?” He steps into the room and immediately stops in his tracks, “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know you were resting.” He lowers his voice, his eyes spontaneously glancing around the bedroom.

I give him a small smile and a nod, tugging at the comforter lightly to wrap it tighter around me. “I’ll be out of here in a second, it has to be in here.” He laments, doing his best to rummage through the bedroom in an unobtrusive manner— failing completely as he opens the drawers to his side table.

“You’re very quiet, Harry.” I chuckle in a joking style, concentrating as he smirks and promptly glances over towards me, “like I couldn’t have been quieter myself.” I tease, amused by his attempt to search silently for his phone.

“Alright, that’s enough from you. I have no idea where I left it. I haven’t had it since this morning.” He closes the drawer and glances back towards me before glimpsing towards the watch on his wrist. “It’s an odd time for you to be in bed, are you alright?”

“I could ask you the same question.” I grin, unsure of why he is home at this time. He just got in last night and I assumed he would be buried in his office until an ungodly hour.

“How so?” He tilts his head to the side,

“You’re not at work. You should be slaving away in your office.” I respond with a small smile.

He rolls his eyes playfully at me, his lips pursed into a firm line.

“Do you not agree?” I challenge, raising a brow with a small smirk across my lips.

Harry shakes his head, “You act as if I never come home.” He sighs, pressing his hands to his hips,

“Well, it is on rare occasions I see you before seven.” I softly respond,

“I’m a busy man.” He nods, “why are you cooped up in bed?”

I give him a small shrug, “Just tired and cold,”

“Mhm. Jackass tiring you out with his ridiculous excuse for a business?”

“Harry.” I sigh, “don’t start.” I warn, not in the mood to deal with the whole ‘Meyer Styles’ disagreement.

Harry gives me a grin, his eyes shining as he looks over at me, straightening his posture after closing another drawer, “Baby, want me to lie with you?” Harry offers sweetly, his proposal causing me to grin.

My brows knit in a frown,“Don’t you have to work?” I challenge,

With a cocky wink and confident smile, he reassures me, “Yeah, but I don’t feel like going back to the office. I’m going to shower.“ He crawls on the bed, leaning down and kissing me sweetly.

He draws away, his scintillating eyes dip to my décolletage.

“If that is your way of asking me to join, I am not getting up.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, just wanted to kiss you, my darlin’.” He mumbles, crawling off the bed before wandering towards the bathroom, leaving me to leisurely fall asleep to the sound of the water flowing,

I hear a dismal huff escape from Harry as he closes the wardrobe doors, seeming somewhat irritated.

“What’s wrong?” I drowsily request, my eyes admiring his shirtless body, appreciating every curve and arch of his abs. His hair is damp and fluffy resembling, falling around his face perfectly to my liking.

“I can’t find my business hoodie.” Harry sighs, referencing the black hoodie that represents Styles & Co.

I draw the comforter higher up my body, doing my best to hide the Styles & Co. logo sketched into me.

I give Harry an innocent grin, having no desire to take his hoodie off and hand it to him. It’s smooth, comfortable, and most of all —it emanates like him. I feel content when wearing his clothes every now and again.

“I seem to have a clothes thief.” Harry clears his throat, his eyes narrowing down on me and I bat my eyes innocently at him.

I’m not stealing his clothes— I’m simply borrowing them for an unknown period of time, at some point I’ll put the hoodie back on his side of the wardrobe, freshly clean and smelling like the laundry detergent, but until then I’m borrowing it.

“Baby, I ordered you your own business hood, why don’t you wear it?” Harry graciously requests, beginning to pick his dirty clothes up off the floor, placing them in the dirty laundry basket.

“Yours is better.” I shrug, my eyes once again trailing towards Harry’s perfectly flawless frame.

“Elise, they’re exactly the same.” Harry chuckles, picking his phone up off the bed and glancing down at it.

I beg to differ, the hoodies are not the same. One is infused with Harry’s scent, and one is infused with my own— I much prefer his lingering scent.

“They’re different. I like yours.” My hands pull at the comforter, my body getting cozy within the bed,

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll just stay shirtless.” Harry smiles, causing me to smirk. I could never dispute a shirtless boyfriend— I mean fiancé; I like him with clothes off, there’s no doubt about it. “Are you okay? You’re very quiet.” He changes the subject, “And you only wear my clothes when I am gone for too long, you’re extremely cold, or when you’re a little down. Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

He brings a smile to my face as I softly giggle at his comment.

I shake my head, “No, you don’t need to kick anyone’s ass.” I respond and he nods, entering the bathroom.

Harry shuffles out of the bathroom, the pregnancy box I accidentally left in there, now in his hand, “Elle? Do you have something to tell me? Is this why you’re curled up in bed? Do I need to sit down?” Harry softly questions, his face seeming a bit pale. He stares at me, bringing into view the test. The test that reads positive.

I shake my head, “negative, Harry.” I respond, adjusting my position in the bed.

“Are you sure? Because this says positive, Elise.” He comments, “Elle, I need to know if you’re pregnant, it’s okay. I’m not going to run or anything, I can handle it. I just… I want to know whether I’ll be a Dad.” He trails off, his eyes dropping to look at the positive test resolution in his hand. “I’m okay with being a Dad… this says positive and you’re telling me you’re not. I’m… I’m conflicted here, Elle. ” He breathes out with a soft voice, his hand shaking as it holds the test.

I sit up in the bed, the comforter falling to my hips. I sigh with a small pout, “I’m not pregnant.” I shake my head, watching his every expression.

“But—but this says you are.” He refers again to the stick,

“It’s a false positive.”

“Are you sure? Maybe we should get a test that isn’t from a convenient store box.” He comments, his eyes staring at me with nothing but confusion and worry.

“Harry, I’m in bed because I just got my period. I’m not pregnant, Darling.” I inform him, watching as he sighs and stares down at the test before he walks back to the bathroom.

I can only assume he’s throwing the tests out.

He steps back in, his lips at first staying pursed into a fine line before he breaks the silence between us,

“Well, at least you’re not pregnant.” He shrugs, “That wasn’t sympathetic of me, sorry.” He mumbles, “want me to lie with you for a bit? Come on, let me under the covers.” He benevolently stretches at the covers, sliding between them and moving closer to me.

"Harry, are you upset about this?” I softly challenge, unable to get the look of his face out of my imagination— the look he had when I told him I received my period. He seemed shocked, but for a split second when he was staring at the test, there was a crooked grin in the corner of his lips, his eyes for a moment glistening a bit brighter.

He doesn’t respond, and the room stays quiet as I feel his chest rising and falling, his arms around me. “Harry?”

“We don’t need a baby right now, things are too hectic and we aren’t married yet.” He responds, not giving an answer but more of a statement.

It is evident we do not need a baby, but the question I am wanting to ask is— does he want one?

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“I don’t know, Elle… since you called me and told me there was a chance, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for us to have a baby… I was walking the streets and I felt like everyone around me had a child and I just… I—I kept wondering about us having a baby.” …. “I know a baby isn’t ideal by any means and that we probably aren’t ready right now, but the idea of a baby kinda scares the fuck out of me, but also makes me feel warm inside…. I think a baby is something I’d want once we are married.” Harry informs me, keeping me nestled into him with his warmth. "What do you think?” Harry clears his throat.

When my eyes saw the positive sign, I went blank, my mind went utterly vague— I found myself crying on the bathroom floor.

“I just don’t think a baby is something I can handle,” I mumble, unsure of how I truly feel, my mind reminding me of yesterday when I took the test. “Maybe it is something to discuss when we are married and in a different place. Maybe when we both aren’t working so much?” I respond, coming to a conclusion that the topic of a baby should be brought up once we are married and not so caught up in the world of business.

*** ***

I stand in Harry’s office waiting for him to stand from his desk so we can leave for the business dinner that we must attend. I had other plans in mind for tonight, but he had to ruin them by informing me of a dinner.

“Can we maybe skip the dinner?” I offer while he’s sliding his jacket up his arms, my fingers pressed to the file in my hand that I managed to sneak away from Logan.

I was rummaging around in Logan’s office when his secretary was meant to be going through files. For some reason, he had her do my job, (I am not complaining because I still get paid), but it did make me curious.

I managed to coax her into going across the street to buy coffee, buying me at least fifteen minutes in Logan’s office without anyone knowing. I searched the obvious places before I remembered all the times I saw Harry pulling things from the most random of places, such as, but not limited to— inside the plant that I forced him to have in his office for decoration, taped under the third shelf of his large bookcase he once pulled a file, and one time he had things hid in the lamp shade without anyone noticing. He can be crafty and sneaky, to say the least.

I found the file with Harry’s name on it taped under Logan’s desk, the place I managed to look, the last place I had left in mind after scouring the whole damn office in under fifteen minutes.

“Why?” Harry questions, unsure of why I would want to skip a free dinner,

“Kinda have other plans in mind,” I whisper, biting down on my lip as he raises a brow, reading my eyes, understanding my intentions, my wants, my needs.

“Do you still have bruises?” He questions and I shrug, “let me see your back.” He instructs, being sweet and protective.

I turn around and he discreetly lifts up my top, allowing it to fall back down over me, “Nope, you have bruises still.” He shakes his head, grabbing his keys from his desk,

“Harry, come on.” I whine, “do you not find me attractive anymore?”

“You’re still as attractive as the day I first laid my eyes on you.” Harry assures me, “can I have that file?” He smiles, his lips pursing into a straight line when I shake my head,

“Harry, you’re depriving me— so I’m going to deprive you.” I hide the folder behind my back, concentrating as he furrows his eyebrows before letting out a chuckle.

“Depriving you? Hm.” He hums with a wide and cocky grin.

“Do you know how long it has been since I’ve actually orgasmed?” I quietly question, his eyes narrowing down on me.

His lips prime into a line, insulted and unamused by my comment, “Oi, you’re making it sound like I’m horrible in bed.” He comments, trying to reach around me to get the file but I step away,

“You haven’t touched me since the night I got the fucking bruises. Three weeks; I promise I won’t shatter to pieces.” I inform him, “and before that, you went gently because you didn’t want to have me quivering. So, that’s almost two months.” I continue, his arms crossing over his chest as he listens to me ramble on about out currently non-existent sex life.

He cocks his head and arches a sly brow,“You’re sexually frustrated,” he chuckles, “it’s cute. Tell ya what. Give me that file, and after dinner, we can make love.” Harry proposes, “do you think you can wait that long?” He winks, stepping closer and brushing his lips against my own,

“Maybe,” I mumble, bringing the file to rest in front of us,

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He takes the file from my hand with a slow and sexy smile painted across his mouth.

“He already knows my file is missing, don’t you think he will catch on if this goes missing too?” I ask Harry, gesturing towards the file with all of Harry’s details in it.

“You’re going to put the file back when I’m done,” Harry informs me, standing straighter and smoothing his tie before taking my hand with his and leading us out of his office, not allowing me to ask any more questions regarding the file…

*** ***

I sit at the dinner and sigh, unamused by all the conversations about business, my fingers drumming to my thigh as I try to pass the time in a quick manner.

To be quite honest, I don’t care. I don’t give a damn about any of it, right now all I care about is the handsome man sitting in front of me—the one who seems to have deprived me for far too long.

A cheeky notion pops into my mind and I smirk as I slip my foot out of my heel, subtly raising it under the table to glide up Harry’s leg.

He flicks his eyes up towards me, eyes rolling skyward, his lips pursing into a fine line while I snicker to myself, everyone else far too busy worrying about a business conversation taking place.

I urge my foot past the curve of Harry’s knee, sliding it over his thigh, amused as I watch his jaw clench and his eyes widen. He clears his throat, gazing at me keenly— sexual frustration crinkled in his eyes.

I take him further by surprise when I push my foot to brush over his bulge, arousing it as I innocently stare at him, slamming his eyes shut for a brief moment. His arousal becoming an opiate I have no wish to kick. He gulps, his arousal compressing further against my foot before I delicately and subtly rub my foot against him, absorbing the feel of him—torturing him under the table.

I continue to allow my foot to explore the texture of his pants and the increasing bulge that touches the tip of my toes and gradually glides down the base of my foot with every move I make. His erection bumping against the tender touch of my foot as I give him a naughty smile that has him imagining things other than business.

The bold caress of my foot becomes unbearable for Harry as I breach his every defence— my foot coaxing him to abandon his current position across from me.“Niall, can we swap seats? I’d like to sit with Elise.” Harry clears his throat, speaking to Niall who is sat right beside me, a beer in his hand.

Without any questions, Harry is taking the seat beside me, his arm draping around my chair, his lips pressing to my ear without hesitation.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he informs me and I shrug, having no remorse for the doings of my foot.

He teases his hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on my inner thigh and squeezing lightly as he engages in conversation. I take a look at the time and do my best to use it to my advantage. I rest my head on Harry’s shoulder, a subtle hint that I want to leave.

To my bitter and sexually frustrated disappointment, he doesn’t take the hint, not all.

I sigh heavily, moving my hand to rest on his bulge, no longer being subtle with my advancements. He clears his throat, yet again before I feel a kiss to the top of my head.

“Patience, darlin’” he mumbles just for the two of us to hear, causing me to pout when I don’t get my own way.

I have been patient long enough.

I give up and remove my hand from his desire, settling with continuing to rest my head on his shoulder, taking note of how another girlfriend is doing the same with her business boyfriend who seems to be far too interested in the conversation with Niall.

Harry stands to his feet and takes his jacket off, placing it over my lap like a blanket, before he kisses my cheek.

“Aren’t you cute, keeping her warm… See, I told you he had a heart, Niall.” Anastasia chuckles, playfully nudging Niall— something tells me that the two of them sitting together may inflict a relationship.

“Niall, you could learn a few tips. Maybe then Anastasia will say yes to a date.” Harry winks, taking his seat back beside me, Niall instantly blushing and muttering under his breath, changing the subject.

Harry carefully shifts his hand under his jacket, his hand resting back on my thigh comfortably, his warm hand becoming even more pleasing. He squeezes my thigh and inches his hand higher, his fingers dancing over the zip of my jeans, my body stiffening at the sudden occurrence.

He can not be serious.

I take a breath as his lips kiss my cheek, “you okay?” I hear him mumble, a question he’s asking for reassurance and the go-ahead to continue to leave his hand resting where it is.

I nod, a saucy grin inviting his touch. I take a breath as I feel his fingers discreetly push the zip of my jeans down, popping the button at ease.

I can’t believe he’s serious. This is inappropriate— so inappropriate— but I don’t want him to stop.

It’s not like anyone can see.

“Can you stay quiet?” He whispers benevolently, his hand slipping into my pants, gliding over my lace lingerie, testing the waters with me. I nod, the fire burning in my soul putting my morals to flame as I allow him to continue.

His fingers dance around the edges of my undergarments, teasing me to the maximum instead of getting straight to the point. Tampering with my sanity with each slow motioned glide outside the lace.

He gradually slides his hand over me, fucking with me over my underwear, showing me no remorse.

He takes his time— his voice steady as he seems involved in conversation while his hand fucks with my sanity. I clear my throat and do my best to pretend to listen to the conversations, completely failing with his tender touching coaxing me to abandon all thoughts but one.

He takes me by surprise when he finally gives in, pushing inside me, circling inside me at ease, igniting a further passion brewing inside my body.

It’s been so long, too long.

I feel my breaths getting heavy as I stay withdrawn; my feet curling in my shoes as my hand grips the edge of my seat, a sigh escaping me instead of a groan.

I focus on keeping my lips pursed into a straight line, my head spinning with every circular motion he inflicts on me, butterflies rising inside me as I arch my back slightly in my chair. Unchaining wild, delicious feelings rattling my cage as I do my best to breathe.

I pick up my drink and sip on the straw, needing something to keep my mouth occupied as he slides upwards, relentlessly moving, dipping, swirling and circling around, adding pressure and trying to find the one spot.

A familiar hot longing squeezes inside me, his motions already spinning my raging emotions into a chaotic mess.

I let out a breath as I arch my back again slightly, allowing him easier access as I breathe out, pressure thrusting inside me with every long and slow motion that closes me tighter around him. His fingers abruptly thrust and hit me in the perfect spot, causing me to choke on my drink—instead of groaning.

“Darlin’ you alright?” He questions like a caring, soon to be husband, his fingers removing themselves from me carefully, as I catch my breath.

I nod, smiling at everyone around us as their eyes follow with concern as they stare at me.

I can’t believe he fucking did that. Fucking tease.

I assure everyone I’m fine before the attention is no longer on me and on the topic of conversation that Harry and I have managed to disconnect ourselves from.

I clear my throat and move my hands to subtly button my jeans under Harry’s jacket, before I carefully stand to my feet, excusing myself to the bathroom.

When I exit, I am surprised to see Harry leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest with a smug grin on his face— a cocky smile dangled on the corner of his lips.

“I fucking hate you.” I murmur as I still feel the butterflies in my stomach, my legs feeling shaky from his small teasing at the table.

“Why?” He pushes off the wall and I step closer to him, my hand crushing against his chest. I lean up and whisper, “my jeans are fucking wet, no thanks to you.” He chuckles, his hand settling to rest in the small of my back, putting on a small embrace of a show for anyone who may see.

“You started it… want to go back and finish dinner?” He proposes with a cheeky tone to his voice.

“I want to pin you against this wall and take every fill of you, but my morals and senses are coming back to me— so that is inappropriate,” I whisper into his ear, “so, yes. Let’s go back to dinner and hurry it the fuck up, please.” I continue before I gingerly move to gaze at him, a cocky grin painted across his lips.

He offers me his hand and I shake my head, “I washed my hands,” he mutters, lacing our fingers together as we walk back towards the table, Niall and Anastasia standing to their feet.

I raise a brow, watching as Niall grabs her coat and helps her slide it up her arms, “I wonder what they’re doing?” Harry whispers into me,

“The same thing we are,” I chuckle, “leaving,” I continue, not giving him room to dispute my wants and my needs.

Harry politely smiles as Niall and Anastasia announce their goodbyes, filling the table with a few ‘awes’ to escape the others’ lips. I gently nudge Harry, hinting for him to say our goodbyes as well. He gives me a teasing grin before listening, politely excusing us on both of our behalfs.

*** ***

The drive to his building felt longer than usual, we can blame the raging desire brewing between us for that.

To my surprise, it was him who mentioned spending the night at the penthouse because it was closer; I like his thinking, he is finally deciding on not depriving me and not making me wait any longer.

He opens the door of his Audi and offers his hand to help me out, a grin pressed across his luscious apple red lips— lips that I want to attack and taste every corner and edge of.

We step up the steps to the golden trim, glass doors’ of his building. He presses they access keys and uses his card before the doors unlock and allow us in. The doors’ close behind us, a chill spreading through me as the automatic lights flicking on, lighting up the exposed and abandoned Lobby.

“Harry, you should invest in a bloody heating system,” I mumble, tightening my jacket around me, his arm snaking around my lower back,

“Oh, ha, ha. It is always cold down here when I get in,” He responds as my heels echo against the flooring as we make our way towards the elevator.

His fingers press against my jacket, drawing small circles on the small of my back, keeping me intrigued and eager for what awaits when we get upstairs to the penthouse. I bite my lip, my eyes watching as the numbers decrease before the elevator light kindles and the doors slide open.

We step inside and I stand in the middle as Harry steps and swipes his card, pressing the floor to the penthouse. He turns to face me, his lips suddenly attacking mine as he considerately pushes me against the back wall, his hand gliding around my body to rest in the small of my back as our tongues dip and swirl, our bodies struggling to keep their distance with every luscious tasting action. I press my hands to his neck, beckoning him like a siren’s song, his hands gingerly pressing in the small of my back, pushing our bodies closer, allowing his erection to cushion against me.

The doors open and he drags his mouth from mine with a heavy sigh, his eyes full of desire as he stares at me for a moment. He allows me to step out first, my heels sounding until I reach the carpeted hallway. I turn on my heel to wait on Harry. I go to continue walking but I am stopped when his hands rest on my waist, drawing me back into him, a deep primitive tug that signaled the casual walk to the penthouse was going to be far from casual. He spins me around, my hands hitting his chest as our bodies pressed together, a small chuckle escaping my lips before I find my mouth attached to his firm male lips that know what they are doing. His hands travel to cup my behind— heart-shaped ass begging a squeeze, “jump,” he mumbles against me, hauling me up to wrap my legs around his torso, our lips reconnecting, my hands traveling all around as he walks us towards the door. The two of us focused on the sensation of our tongues dipping and swirling, the slow, passionate, kisses between us. A long, liquid kiss that rushed lust through my body, leaving me wanting more and more with each moment.

He keeps me hoisted up as his hand presses his card to unlock the door before he pushes the door open with ease, stepping inside and shutting it behind him with his foot.

He carefully places me down, my feet instantly sliding from my heels, my agile hands forcing his jacket down his arms and allowing it to collapse to the floor with ease. We step around his jacket, stumbling our way down the hallway, our mouths attached, our hands desperately trying to pry our clothes off. We stumble into the wall, my back hitting, “Sorry,” he pulls away, looking at me with wide eyes. I shake my head, my smoldering eyes drawing him in as I slide upwards against him, a groan escaping his lips before he is prying my shirt off of my body, throwing it to the floor. He grins, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath, his eyes dipping to my chest, admiring the new lace cupped at my boobs. Without taking his eyes from me, he flicks open his buttons one by one, somewhat teasing me.

I breathe out and press my hands to his pants, unbuttoning them gradually, my hand accidentally managing to glide across him, earning myself a small groan at my touch.

We stumble again, forcing our wild, reckless and restless mood to shuffle closer to the bed. I launch him against the wall as we round the corner into our bedroom—my lips parting his to rain kisses over his silky skin— his scent rising to torment me, my head spinning as I bite down benevolently on his skin, his hands unbuttoning my jeans— the last piece of clothing to not have made it to the floor.

The enraged desire and anticipation rise with every rich, sensational kiss his lips allow.

I move my rained kisses to follow his torso, crossing over the beautiful landscape of plains, tight abs and soft skin, carefully pressing my knees to the flooring, his eyes peering down at me delighted with my excited anticipation. I circled his hard length with my hands, exploring the texture of his shaft. I press my hand at the base of him, enthralling my with his touch, my lips kissing the tip of him fascinated with the soft roundness of him— the head of his staff nudges at the feathery strokes of my tongue— his breaths unsteady while his hands are tangled within my hair. Pleasure licks at his lips as I go further, taking him between my lips, “Elle,” His husky voice whispers a want and need. The familiar hot longing squeeze of my hand on at his base sends his eyes to close shut in ecstasy, his body holding back the groans as he continues to grow.

Shuddering with desire he lets out a groan, his hand moving from the strands of my hair, resting on my shoulder. “Fuck, you’re good.” He mutters as he squeezes my shoulder, my mouth slowly descending down his shaft one last time, the feather stroke of my tongue captivating him one last time.

He helps me back up to my feet, wasting no time with pushing me to the bed, hot and ready to get down to business, his hands tugging my black skinny leg jeans off of me, leaving them no remorse as he throws them to the floor.

He takes bold possession of my mouth, feeling every curve as his hand reaches down, the silken length of my thigh becoming graced by his hand, his fingers dancing delicately on the inner face of my thigh, my head already spinning as he inches higher, drawing down the lace underwear, enthralling me with his touch, sliding a finger in and beginning to dip and surge like he did in the restaurant. “Breathe, relax.” He draws away from the kiss, mumbling against my lips, my fingers pressed into his silken curls, “Elle, relax,” he again instructs, sliding another finger in, forcing a moan from my wet lips at his heart-stopping tenderness.

My toes curl into the sheets as I feel his every long motion, his name leaving my lips in small whimpers.

He knows how to work those damn fingers perfectly. Everything about him is damn potent, he is the kind of man that causes women to hyperventilate… and if he continues these head spinning motions, I might just hyperventilate.

I breathe heavily, my fingers already digging into his bare skin as I throw my head back against the pillows, his name moaning from my lips. He grins, his eyes staring into mine before he skims his tongue over my lips, causing me to whimper when he uses them to tease me. He thrusts and circles his fingers one last time, a loud moan leaving my trembling lips, my head literally spinning.

He grasps my knees and eases them apart, anticipation so keen as he crowns his thighs at my hips, his package, plumb and swollen bumps against me before he’s at my entrance, sliding in slowly. Probing in a slow repetitive rhythm he takes my breath away, his mouth kissing mine, the chain of his necklace dangling over me, lightly pressing to my warm chest, “Relax, Elle.” He groans, “Fuck, you’re tight, relax sweetheart.” He breathes, my body tightening around him as he thrusts and I raise my body to press into his, my hands gripping him, the long, gradual, ride of delight silencing the deep hunger inside me.

Our tongues dip and swirl in sweet motions, my fingers digging into his back, his strength throbbing inside me at a faster pace — transcending physical pleasure. He breaches my every defense, taking my breath away. Gravelly words uttered against his flesh with every rippling momentum. He kisses the slender column of my throat before he relentlessly moves my hips against his. Heat and power radiate between our warm bodies, bodies eager to feel every inch of each other, bodies filled with a hot longing desire. We both work together to create a fulfillment of passion and love. Unchaining wild, delicious feelings reach unbearable heights, both of us moaning into each other, my breath getting lost every few moments with his hard length throbbing inside me, my legs already beginning to quiver. “Breathe,” his lips skim my trembling lips, as tremors rise in the wake of him breaching my every defense, the surge of his possession catching me in the right spot.

I arch my back to better accept him, tensing as he goes deeper, my chest rising rapidly, my head spinning climax coming at me in drugging waves. Buried in my sweet heat, my eyes narrow to half mast. A passionate tide overtakes the onslaught of raw physical desire as he releases and fills me; my head falls back with a heavy breath escaping my lips. He gives me one last long, liquid kiss that rushes lust through me before he falls to my side.

I stare up at the ceiling, my head spinning as my body slows down and begins to rest, my thighs quivering with heat.

“You deserve some credit,” I cough, “That was the best damn orgasm of my life,” I comment, his chuckle instantly filling the room,

“I am pleased,” he laughs, “only took, what is it? five and a half years?”

“About damn time, huh?” I joke, closing my eyes as I take a few deep breaths, my head spinning. Harry pulls the sheet over the two of us, the warm sheet pressing over my sweaty body.

“I love you,” I breathe out, shifting to face him, his head tilting to shine his gray eyes at me,

“I love you, too.” He whispers, kissing my lips lightly…

What do you guys think? :) xx

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looselucy · 7 years

Photo

Golden Brown

36 I’d been sat watching him sleep for almost an hour. The morning sun was bursting through his sheer curtains, washing over his face as I concentrated on him, my heart in the very pit of my stomach. I’d woken to Harry wheezing and whimpering at some point during the night, and at one stage, whilst I was leaning over him, brushing through his hair and trying to wake him, he’d whispered the word please. I’d really struggled with it, hearing how human he sounded. One of the things that helped me was how hollow and distant he seemed in that state, like it wasn’t really him. Hearing his pleas reminded me that it was Harry going through that trauma, and it wounded me.

It took me a long time to finally let myself slip into slumber again, and even still, I awoke early, too early, and once again, I couldn’t manage to get back to sleep. I just wanted to watch him sleep peacefully. I couldn’t fall back asleep, I just couldn’t. My stomach was in tatters thanks to the fact my heart had plummeted into it, and my features were low as I watched him, wondering how I could possibly help. All I wanted to do was help him, and I felt completely powerless because I knew I couldn’t. The evening before, Harry had once again tried to convince me that I helped him calm down. He had looked into my eyes until his breathing was normal once more, his fingers running through my hair, and he said I helped. It just felt like I wasn’t doing enough. I felt like there was more I could do. But if Harry couldn’t figure it out, how could I? If three years of dreams and a year of therapy had left Harry still searching for answers and begging for an escape, how did I really think I would be able to make a difference or find some kind of cure? I was doing everything I physically could, but with each passing night I struggled more and more. It wasn’t easy to see him like that, and I was really trying to hold myself together, but I was falling apart. I’d been in a bit of trance for however long I had been staring at him, life only truly returning to me once I saw him starting to come around, stretching his body and yawning, the sheets lowering to reveal his pecks. I knew being in his company and being able to talk with him would make me feel better. “Hey.” I breathed. He slowly opened his eyes, the light that had been giving his features such a lovely glow now flittering harshly against his pupils, his lips tugging into the softest smile imaginable. “Morning.” He groaned, spotting that I was already sat up with my legs crossed. “What’s up? You okay?” “I’m fine. Just couldn’t get back to sleep.” He rubbed over his eyes, his brows creasing to the centre, still trying to become accustom to the morning. “Wait,” He started sitting upright. “You didn’t get back to sleep after I woke you?” “NO! No, I mean… I woke up early.” “Ren, if you’re lying to me-” He scowled. “I’m not! I promise.” I cried, noting how awake he suddenly seemed. “I just woke up early. It’s nothing. I’m sorry.” “You promise?” “I promise.” He nodded, seeming a little reluctant to believe me. I swallowed, watching him continue to rub over his eyes and run his hand through his hair. I felt like I’d started our morning really negatively without meaning to. “Do you think I’m lying?” I asked him. “If so, I’m offended. You should know me better than that, Curls. I don’t make promises lightly.” “No?” He turned his head to me. “No. When I first got my job, I promised myself that I would walk there every single day. Come rain or shine, even when I’m running really late, I walk. And I didn’t make that promise to anyone other than myself. The only person I would let down is me, and I refuse to do it. I don’t make promises if I don’t mean them. You should know this about me.” I noticed it never really took much to make Harry Styles grin like a fool, that beautiful smile that had become all too familiar to me stretching and overpowering every other feature on his face. He believed me, finally, and so he should. “That’s a great attribute to have.” “All round great person, Styles.” I smirked. “You should know that about me, too!” “I did know that, Babe.” He sniggered. “Still nice to learn the little things about you.” “It’s helpful, right?” “What I mean, Ren, is that it’s genuinely nice getting to know you. I’m not sure about you, but at this stage I couldn’t really give a fuck if it’s helpful.” My breath smacked against the back of my throat, my chest shuddering as his words hit me. And they hit hard. I knew that myself. I had felt that myself and I had thought that myself, but hearing Harry say it felt different to just admitting silently that getting to know him had been a joy, way beyond the original intentions of our plot. I looked down into my lap, my fingers pulling at the hem of Harry’s Joy Division shirt that I’d slept in, swallowing before I spoke. “I wasn’t expecting to get on with you the way I do.” “You speak like it’s a bad thing.” He leaned forward, so we were closer. “I don’t mean to.” I looked back up to him. “Just… I’m still a little thrown by it, to be honest.” “Better than us hating each other.” “I know.” I giggled. “I just… I was expecting to be complacent, if anything.” It wasn’t often that someone entered my life and stuck there, the older I got the pickier I became when it came to people I wanted to spend my time on. I was starting to realise I didn’t want Harry to unglue himself from my life. I couldn’t even imagine what a day would be like without his presence. I couldn’t imagine not being able to feel the radiant heat of his warmth and his character. I wanted him to be a fixed part of my life, like Mo and Niall and Sasha. Complacent was the last thing I felt towards Harry. I couldn’t help but think that every single person who had been lucky enough to spend any amount of time in his presence would want him to become a permanent fixture. “I’m glad you don’t feel that way anymore.” He spoke sincerely. “I really like you, Ren. I think-” A knocking on his bedroom door brought his sentence to an abrupt end, and without even thinking, I threw myself so I was laying back down on the bed, hoisting the sheets over my body and closing my eyes. I caught Harry quietly whispering asking what the fuck I was doing before I heard the door creak open. “Hi, Sweetie.” I heard a woman’s voice, whispering. “Hi!” He whispered back. “You okay?” “Even better now you’re home. Didn’t feel right not having you here on Christmas day.” “At least I’m here now. Sorry about last night. I read our tickets wrong and we missed the train.” “Doesn’t sound like you.” Her voice was getting closer and closer. “I know, just got a bit muddled up.” “Is she asleep?” I was half expecting Harry to tell his mother that I actually wasn’t asleep, I was just pretending because I’d gotten all nervous and I wanted to put off this meeting for as long as I could. He’d find it hilarious and he’d poke fun at me all day. But he had my back. “Yeah, she was pretty tired after the late train journey. We’ll come downstairs and I’ll introduce her as soon as she’s up, I promise.” “Just let her know if she needs anything, to just ask.” “I will, mum. Thanks.” “Also, wake her up. I’m too excited.” “Don’t smother her!” Harry demanded, as the sound of her footsteps proved she was moving out again. “I make no promises.” “Mum-” The door closed. “MUM?” But she was gone, her giggles fading into the distance as she moved away from us, and as soon as I felt like I was safe, I started groaning into the pillow, my embarrassment literally crawling all over my skin. I turned so my face was literally in the pillow, my disdained cries screeching into the fabric. “I’m soooooo sorry.” I grumbled. “What the fuck just happened?” He cackled. “I got scared.” “You’re going to fall apart, aren’t you?” “I might.” I sobbed. “They’re not going to like me.” “Why would you think that?” “You did such a good job with my parents and I’m going to fuck this up.” “You’re not going to fuck it up, Ren.” “It’s funny you should say that because you’re wrong and I am.” He lay himself back down, clearly facing my way even though I refused to lift my head from the safety of his pillow to prove it. I felt like I couldn’t do it. I felt like I couldn’t be the girl they wanted to see Harry with. They must have known more than anyone how wonderful he was, and he deserved someone just as good. I was not that girl. I couldn’t even begin to pretend to be that girl. I could do my absolute best and I wouldn’t be what they expected or what he deserved, they were going to see right through me and every possible charade I could put on. I was going to fuck it up. “Ren, would you look at me, please?” “No.” I sulked. “You’re gunna deprive me of those beautiful sunflowers?” I was probably blushing, which I really should have kept hidden in the pillow where it belonged, completely out of sight and unknown to him, but with Harry saying those words I had to lift my head, I had to look at him. I gently turned my face to where his astonishingly deep voice had come from, a little taken aback by how close he’d positioned himself, but not distancing. “What?” I grumbled. “I need to ask you a favour.” He began, brushing some strands of hair from my face so he could see my eyes. “Okay.” “Please, when we get downstairs, just be yourself. The only way you would ever fuck this up, is if you don’t act like yourself. They’ll like you for you, just like I do. I promise. Please don’t be fake. Just be you.” I wanted to argue and tell him how wrong he was, but there was a look in his eyes that stopped me, a look that said I was enough, just as I was. “Okay.” I whispered. “I promise.” “You promise?” He smirked, his brows high. “Wow. That’s a big deal.” “I know.” “Can’t go back on it now.” “I won’t. As long as I can tell a few little white lies, just so they don’t figure us out.” “A good deal.” He chuckled. “Thank you.” “What for?” “Kinda thought I’d wake up and you’d have done a runner. Thanks for staying.” “Couldn’t leave you to be in a fake relationship on your own now, could I?” “I think I could have done it.” He turned so he was facing the roof. “Hi mum! Hi dad! Let me introduce you to my invisible girlfriend. See?” “She’s a beauty.” I giggled. “Got nothing on you, flower.” It was almost like he was trying to get me all flustered and rose tinted before we went downstairs, like he bloody wanted me to be more of a bumbling idiot than I already was for my first time meeting his parents. His compliments and words were light and meaningless, but it was honestly like every single vessel in my cheeks were bursting over them, eager to show him how much they appreciated what he was saying. “Come on.” I shook my head, clambering out of bed at the same time. “Let’s do this now before I lose my nerve.” “Don’t faint, or anything.” “I don’t think I’ll faint,” I spoke as I approached my rucksack. “But there’s a high chance of me tripping, spilling things, breaking things, and generally being a bit clumsy.” “You? Clumsy?” He shrieked as he dressed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I wasn’t even sure that he was looking, but I still flipped him off over my shoulder, forcing myself to relax, forcing myself to think that everything would be fine. For years I’d prided myself on my confidence, and I was trying to remind myself of that before we made our way downstairs. It was one of the few things I liked about myself, so the fact I could literally feel it shrinking was extremely unsettling for me. I needed to let it grow. Maybe Harry knew that, maybe that’s why he was filling me with his kind words. We dressed ourselves quickly, and when I’d reached the stage where I was trying to tame my hair by running my fingers through it, and wiping away the mascara that was still underneath my eyes from the evening before, I knew I’d ran out of time. “Do you have any makeup wipes?” “Um, no.” He sniggered, coming to stand behind me, looking at both of our reflections. “I can’t meet them with yesterday’s makeup on.” “They quite like pandas. They sponsor the WWF and everything.” He reached round to prod under my eye. “Fuck off!” I swatted his hand away. “This is no time to be mean to me!” “You’re right, I’m sorry.” His grin was ginormous. “Well, my mum probably has some in the bathroom. Why don’t you go in there before we go downstairs?” “I’m a bit worried I’ll lock myself in and not let myself back out.” I quailed. “You’ve made me a promise though!” “I promised I’d be myself! I will just… be myself in the bathroom.” I liked that Harry found me funny. Whenever I made him laugh it was like a zap of electricity shot from the bottom of my spine and straight into my skull, lighting sparks of ecstasy and enthusiasm in the coves of my mind, erupting my own giggles. It almost felt like I was lucky to be the one alighting that from him. “You’d last ten minutes in there before you missed me too much.” “In your wildest dreams, Curls.” “C’mon.” He ushered, gently lifting the chain of the necklace he’d bought me from my neck with his finger before he quickly moved on, heading towards his door. “We’re going now, whether you like it or not.” “I don’t like it.” “You’re getting extra kisses again!” He told me as he opened the door. “I know you must have loved your day off from being my girlfriend yesterday, but your times up.” “It was a blessing.” “Your sarcasm hurts sometimes, did you know that?” He smiled, ticking his head towards the hall. “You started it!” His head ticked harder the second time, and still kind of cringing to myself, I finally began to make my way out of his room, already questioning how long I could go without eating if I was to lock myself in the bathroom and not face our situation. When Harry had literally pushed me towards my parents house, he’d told me that I would be the one talking him through this experience, that I would be the one giving him the prep talk and easing him into the idea of it, but no. It was still me who was freaking out and it was still Harry who was having to calm me down and convince me that everything would be fine. He was probably freaking out himself but he was too damn polite to show it. Harry didn’t trust me as I wandered into the bathroom, standing in the doorway with his arms folded and watching my every move as I reached onto a shelf to grab a makeup wipe, pretending I couldn’t see him watching me as I lengthened the process as much as I physically could. “Ren!” He cried eventually. “Okay, okay!” With my face more cleansed than it ever had been in my entire life, I finally walked out of the bathroom, Harry keeping his eyes on me the entire time, still not trusting me as I brushed past him, taking a deep breath in before I began making my way downstairs, Harry hot on my heels. I stopped once I reached the bottom, looking to Harry like a beacon of hope, happy when he decided to cord his fingers through mine, winking at me before we turned on ourselves and wandered to the end of the hall. The first thing that hit me was how similar it was to Harry’s home, maybe that was just because the area was open and the bare red brick walls were presented proudly, but I was also hit with this bizarre familiarity, like I’d been there before. It felt like a home. I unlinked our hands and took a few steps forwards, my nose getting the better of me. On top of the dining table there were loads of magazines and a newspaper, a half empty glass of orange juice with lipstick on the rim, a burnt-out candle. More pictures and paintings littered the walls, and everything just looked so lived in. My mum and dads home was pristine, everything looking brand new, like something from a catalogue. It felt nice to be in a home where it was exceedingly obvious it was actually inhabited. The back wall of the house was almost entirely glass, revealing their garden, which looked bizarrely green given the time of year. I’d been too busy gazing at each aspect of the room to notice the woman stood in the corner beaming at me. “Hello, Florence.” I heard. I whipped my head to the voice I had heard earlier when my head was buried in Harry’s purple pillow, smiling to her, but backing away at the same time, landing against Harry’s frame, and naturally he wrapped his arms around my waist, his chin on the top of my head. “Hello.” I returned, a very clear quake in my voice. She scuttled over to me, a huge smile on her face. I think I tried to back away even more, but Harry’s firm stance ceased me. I was almost threatened by how adorable the woman was. She was tiny, and rounded, and she had these giant eyes, green eyes just like Harry’s, her lashes shadowing them in thick waves, her hair a little shorter than Harry’s but just as curly and twice as thick. She was bloody adorable, I couldn’t even fathom it. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” She reached me, practically grabbing my hand and just flopping it up and down since I was too dumbfounded to shake her hand. “I’m Janine, Harry’s mum.” “Florence Valentine. But please call me Ren.” “Ren it is.” Harry had gotten his smile from her. “I know you told me she was pretty, Harry, but you did no justice.” I whipped my head round to him extremely quickly, my eyes wide, completely out of our zone, but Harry was still in it, cooing down to me like this was normal. “You said I was pretty?” I gawped. “Uh, yeah.” He widened his eyes slightly, silently trying to remind me that I was supposed to be his girlfriend and he was supposed to be my boyfriend and that was supposed to be a perfectly normal thing for him to say. “Did you mean it?” I clouded. “Of course he meant it!” His mother answered for him. “Don’t be silly.” She pulled me from him, wrapping her arms around me and stifling me with her wonderfully plump frame, and just being held to her like that made me relax. It was quickly dawning on me that the aura and the magnetism that Harry possessed, more than likely, ran through all of the Styles clan. It was lovely. “Oh!” I fluttered, still a little stinted by her forward nature. “I want to know everything about you!” She squealed. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” I cringed. “I really do.” She pulled away, and skipped over to the kettle. “I know my son, and he wouldn’t just be with any old person-” “Mum-” Harry tried to warn. “-so you have to be something special and I want to know everything.” I heard the front door open from the corridor behind us, not daring to look around as I heard his father’s voice for the first time. “That bloody pigeon is back!” He shrieked, and I tried my best not to burst out laughing. “Would you leave the pigeon alone!” Janine shrieked back at him. “That pigeon is still here?” Harry was the final one to shriek. More proof of a family. More proof of them all being so wonderfully familiar with one another and even the local pigeons. When we’d got to my house, every conversation felt fake, forced, conventional and boring, like we were talking for the sake of it, our idle chit chat unexciting and proving further than my own loathing that the relationships in my family were lifeless. All they were doing was talking about a damn pigeon and it felt like I was being throttled, over and over again, being harshly reminded of the sad truth that was my family, and the way we were with one another, and the way I didn’t fit into whatever kind of mould they needed me to. A ridiculous thought process, that’s a given, but I wished my family could have a conversation about damn pigeons. “Still there.” His dad groaned, appearing soon enough. “Still spreading soil all over the garden and scaring Mrs Clancy’s cat.” “Mrs Clancy isn’t dead?” Harry wailed. “Harry!” His mother shouted. “Don’t be so awful!” “I’m sorry but, I’m sure the last time I was here she’d just celebrated her one-hundredth birthday!” “Don’t be dramatic, Harry.” His father smirked. “It was her ninety-ninth.” So it was clear that Harry had gotten his sweetness and his curls from his mother, but he’d gotten his height and his sharp features from his father. The man stood at around 6’5, completely bald, but he had green eyes too, I could see them from my spot. They were quite a mesmerising family as a whole, Harry was the perfect blend of the two of them. His father was looking down at me, silent, but with a smile. “Hi.” I waved, a little, my hand forming a life of its own. “Hello.” He nodded. “How are you?” “I’m okay, thank you. How are you?” “Other than the pigeon fiasco, I’m great.” His voice warm, like Harry’s. “How was your journey?” “Harry looked at the tickets wrong!” I shot quickly. He cunningly nipped at my waist, making me wriggle against him, loving that I could lay the blame on him and hide my clumsiness from his parents for a short while longer. He pulled me back even closer once he’d done pinching at my skin, tilting his head around to kiss my temple before he moved back upright. “That’s why you were late?” His father baffled. “That’s not like you.” “It’s not, is it?” I could hear Harry smirking, so I slyly elbowed him in the stomach. “Not like me at all. I don’t know what came over me.” “Harry, get off her for a minute and come and help me make brews.” His mother demanded. “Would you like one, Ren?” “Do you have coffee?” I asked. A silence fell on the room as they all slowly turned their heads to stare at me, eyes wide and their mouths held ajar by shock, a cloud of judgement shrouding the room thanks to my request. I’d never felt so scrutinized in my life. “Don’t kick her out just yet.” Harry seemed to be sighing and smirking and shaking his head all at the same time. “If you can overlook the whole coffee thing, I promise she’s not that bad.” 37 “Kiss me.” He demanded quietly. “She’s not even looking.” I giggled, shooting my eyes over his shoulder. “If you only ever want to kiss your boyfriend when his mother is viewing then we have a serious issue, Florence Valentine.” “She’s gunna turn around any second.” I kept my eyes on her as she looked through their impressive DVD collection. “Three… two… two and half…” “How can you go from two, back up to two and half?” “Do you want me to kiss you or not?” I scalded. “I do.” “Two and three quarters…” “You’re so cute.” “ONE GO!” I threw my lips to his as soon as she’d turned around, happily squealing to herself because of her decision that we would be watching The Shawshank Redemption, seemingly very proud of herself. Apparently, they always took it in turns who would pick the movie, and apparently Janine always spent at least twenty minutes to make up her mind, and most the time, she’d pick Shawshank. I giggled shyly against his lips, running my thumb along his jaw, my legs over his lap, one of his arms around my shoulders so he could keep me held close, the other resting on my thigh. The day had been a lot easier than I had been expecting. Janine and Adam were lovely, too lovely. They’d made the situation so easy because they were just so bloody nice. They didn’t quiz me in a way like they were interrogating me, more like they just genuinely wanted to know about me and what I was like. Other than eating, the four of us had barely shut up all day, just talking and laughing and sharing stories. I’d come to the conclusion that they did quite like me, they seemed to. I couldn’t help but think that maybe I wasn’t the ideal woman for their son, but they seemed to like me and that was good enough. I stayed close to Harry once we’d stopped our kiss, staring into his eyes and still caressing his soft skin as he flopped his head backwards on the sofa, gazing back to me. Adam walked round the corner from the kitchen, tactfully carrying four cups of tea for us. They didn’t have coffee and they’d practically been force feeding me tea all day, trying to change my mind. It might have been working. “Feels nice to make four brews.” He commented as I reached to take mine and Harry’s, thanking him. “Feels like a proper amount of brews. Three just never feels like enough brews. Four feels like a good amount of brews to be making.” “What the fuck are you talking about, dad?” Harry snuffled. “In films and stuff! There’s usually four people in families! Dinner for four, brews for four, just felt right.” “Whatever you say.” I passed him the drink over and he attempted to cool it straight away, blowing at the surface, eager to drink up. I stared out of the window as everything was prepared around me, convincing myself that I could see slight inklings of snow flurrying down from the pitch black sky, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. Everything felt so perfect. All the cute little Christmas decorations, the glow of the room and the glow of the Styles family, snow would have just made it even better. Janine jumped onto the sofa with Adam and snuggled into his side, a very natural smile breaking my face as I watched them, amazed by how apparent it was that the two of them were still very much in love. Harry had told me his family life was great, but I’d questioned if he was a little blinded, or lying to himself. I thought maybe I’d arrive and see something he couldn’t, something bad that might be a hint towards why he was having those awful dreams, but there was nothing to see. They really were wonderful together, and wonderful to be around, and I could see why Harry was so happy with his life. Everything just seemed so wonderful. “Have you seen it before?” Janine asked me as the film started. “Just once.” “Did you like it?” “Loved it.” “Then how have you only watched it once?” She baffled. “If I love a film, I have to watch it a million times.” “And this is her favourite film.” Harry butt in. “Can you imagine how many times we’ve had to watch it?” “You can never see it enough!” She cried. “SHH IT’S STARTING!” A silence fell on the room as the court scene started, and I was trying to remind myself of the film, wondering if maybe this was one that had made me have a breakdown, which was a scary thought. I was almost sure something happened that made me cry for about an hour. I was sure I even had to pause the film just to cry. I was getting myself a little panicked trying to recall everything, wondering if I was going to have a breakdown in front of Harry’s family after such a great day leaving a half decent impression on them. I was going to ruin it. “What?” Harry whispered, noticing my state. “Will I cry? I think something happens in this film that makes me cry.” “There is something.” “Oh my god I knew it. Oh god I’m going to have a breakdown this is awful, awful news.” “A breakdown?” “I have these breakdowns. I recently had one about a slug. I think I remember having a breakdown when I watched this film and your parents are going to judge me.” “You had a breakdown about a slug?” He chuckled. “The slug was sad, okay? And it was when I put all the salt- Y’know what, I’m not telling this story-” “I am not okay with how adorable you are.” “-it’s absolutely ridiculous. Just… if I leave the room, just be aware it’s because I’m having a breakdown.” “Noted.” I cuddled further into his side, like he could shield me from my upcoming breakdown. He moved his head and kissed my temple once again, pattering a few chaste presses to my skin, his affections welcomed. “Will you look after me?” I quizzed, my voice extremely quiet. He moved his lips to my ear, his hot breath slipping against my drum, my skin tingling at the feel of his proximity. “You look after me every single night.” He groaned. “I think I owe you.” 38 His screams were blood-curdling. It didn’t start lightly, like it usually did. That night, I woke up to him screaming. Torturously screaming his fears into the early morning. I bolted up from my slouched position abruptly, crouching over his body once again. It was worse than usual, I could see that automatically. The veins on his neck were protruding out of his skin, which was bright read, drenched in sweat. I was shaking from the very start, struggling to stay composed once again because his cries were truly terrifying. There were tears rolling down his cheeks, sobs and screams and grunts all meshing into one to become a noise so horrifying I couldn’t keep composed. “Harry!” I wailed, wiping away his tears, my face hovered close to his. “I need you to wake up now! HARRY WAKE UP!” The louder I got, the more restless he seemed to become. He was writhing on top of the sheets, every single muscle in his body tensed and torn, wound up and tight. He was in pain. I could tell. There was a crippling pain running through his entire body and I would have done anything to take it away from him. I wanted to absorb that pain, to deal with it myself just so he didn’t have to. His mouth dropped open and his neck cracked backwards, like he was struggling to breathe. His cries stopped, which was a blessing, until I noticed that was because he literally wasn’t breathing. “No!” My tears began falling. “No, no, no Harry! HARRY PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP RIGHT NOW, HARRY!” His legs were shaking, and I needed to stop them. I needed to do everything within my power to keep his body still and calm, to keep him in a normal state. Without even thinking what I was doing I moved, straddling over his hips, forcing my weight onto the area and leaning back down to his face, hearing the cry from his throat as it struggled to find air. It looked like he was dying. There was a moment where I genuinely thought he would. I genuinely thought that his body wouldn’t find the strength to breathe again. I was absolutely petrified. “HARRY! FUCK. Fuck. Please…” My lip was wobbling, my tears falling down to him. “I… I need you to wake up.” It rapidly reached the stage where I couldn’t even shout. My voice was so weak, withheld by my cries. I took my shaking hands and restrained his arms, pushing them deep into the mattress, closing my eyes and truly sobbing to myself as Harry finally let out a gasp of air, only breathing for a moment before he was screaming again. It felt like every single nick and bolt of my body was failing me. Waking him was never an easy task, but it was so much worse that night. I felt like I could feel my heart shattering in my chest, feel the splinters of my fragmented organ piercing through my skin. It was just the daunting thought that no matter what I did, I couldn’t help him. I just couldn’t save him, and it was all I wanted to do. I used every single ounce of my strength to take a deep breath in, dragging the air into my broken chest, before I screamed. “HARRY!” I wept. “IT’S ME! I’M HERE! IT’S REN! PLEASE WAKE UP!” I didn’t even get the chance to fully take in the fact that he’d woken before his body shot upright, and his arms were around my waist, and mine were around his neck. He was sobbing against my breasts, and I was sobbing into his hair. I wrapped around him as tightly as I could without hurting him, wishing I could be calm for him and help him return to his desired state, like I usually would, but what I had just seen had done something to me. His tears against my skin made me feel sick. I was aching. He had been completely himself that time. He had been the Harry I knew, the Harry I had grown to care very deeply for. The Harry I got to spend my days with had been audible and visible through the entire ordeal, I could hear and see how much pain he was in and it was torturous. We wept together for a while. I stroked over his hair as we gently rocked back and forth a little, like I was still kind of trying to cradle him, even though he was beneath me, even though I was still straddling his hips and crying just as much as he was. Around five minutes must have passed before I pulled at his hair so his chest furthered from me, and I could look at his face, seeing how puffy and red his eyes were, but he wasn’t crying anymore. Tears had stopped spilling from his tired eyes and he just looked empty. So fucking empty. Without even thinking what I was doing, I kissed his lips. Fleetingly, like we always did, just pressing my lips against his for a brief moment, because it was natural for us now. Our lips were familiar and I so needed something to be familiar for him. So I kept pattering my kisses against his lips, still crying, still with my hands lost in his curls. “I need to save you.” I wept, my whole body shaking. “Tell me how to save you.” I kept kissing him, over and over and over again, and eventually he began puckering his lips back to mine, still lifeless and numb, but he was returning the momentary gesture every time I pressed the affection to his pretty mouth. “Please.” I shuddered between my kisses. “I need to save you. I have to save you from this. Fuck.” “Ren-” “I can’t let you do this anymore.” I never wanted to stop littering his lips with my kisses. “I can’t let this happen to you anymore. Fuck. Please. Please.” “Ren, I can’t-” “Please just tell me how to save you.” I pressed. “Look at me.” He demanded lowly. “Harry-” “REN, FUCKING LOOK AT ME!” He cried. “I NEED TO SEE YOUR EYES! LET ME SEE YOUR EYES, PLEASE!” I pressed my forehead to his, but stopped kissing him, breathlessly doing as he asked, trying my very best not to blink just so he could concentrate on my eyes in the way he wanted. He raised his hands from my waist and traced both his thumbs over my bottom lip, brushing sweetly over the flesh, his nostrils flaring quickly as he soothed, swallowing deeply, his lips shaking. “Harry-” “It’s your eyes, Ren.” He gulped. “It’s the only thing I know. They’re the only thing I know that works. You- Fuck. They’re the only things that save me. Please… Please just look at me.” “I am.” I whispered. “It’s like they’re the opposite colour of that room. You-you’re so… They’re so beautiful, Ren. I…” He pressed his lips to mine again for a brief moment, not closing his eyes for even a split second, gazing into the only antidote he’d found after all these years. A remedy I possessed. My chest was still heaving as I unlaced my hands from his hair and brought them round to lay on his chest, feeling that his heart was still beating at an alarming rate. “Fuck.” I mumbled. “You need to take steady breaths, Harry. You need-” “I need you.” He whispered, eyes sparkling. “I need you, Ren.” I nodded, and when he brushed his thumb across my cheek I had to close my eyes, just for a little while, accepting his faint touch. I think that was the first time that I managed to accept that somehow, I really was helping him. I wasn’t just doing the best I could, but I was helping. Something about me or my eyes or something was making sure that he was taken out of that room, dragged back into a reality where he felt safe and normal and secure. I kept one hand on his chest and moved the other so my finger could trace circles at the back of his neck, his own hands returning to my waist, and we just stared at one another until his breathing was normal, until his heart was beating at a pace that felt safe and customary. Although our position was uncouth, it felt absurdly regular, like we’d been that way a million times before, our bodies merely slotting back into a stance they were accustom to. “Are you okay?” I asked him softly, after our long silence. “That… was one of the worst I’ve ever had.” He shuddered. “I don’t even want to think what it would be like if you hadn’t woke me up.” “Was anything different?” I quizzed. “Were there any changes?” “The red light was flashing tonight, but other than that, no.” “Do you need anything?” “No.” He shook his head. “I’m… I’m fine. Thank you. Are you tired?” “I’ll stay awake for as long as you need me.” “I’m okay, Ren, really. Are you tired?” “Exhausted.” I smiled, finally. “Then let’s just sleep.” He manoeuvred us before I could clamber off him, gripping at my sides a little more as he turned us so we were laying on our sides, leaving our bodies pressed together and my leg draped over his hip as he pressed the tip of his nose against mine, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in as I watched him, hoping to wait until he was sleeping to let myself doze off again. “You don’t have to stay this close to me.” His voice croaked, sleep attaching to his chords. “I want to.” His eyes shot open again after I’d said that, a few queries glittering through his orbs before he somehow pulled me even closer, his hips subconsciously ticking my way as I melted into him. Once more, his lips met mine, ephemeral, calm, compassionate. Then he let himself fall into his second stage of sleep, one that was always, thankfully, peaceful.

#I dooooo looove this chapter #clicking on the chapter link takes you to all of them AND a link to the music playlist for this fic #do ittttt #me #mine #TFA14 #1dff #Harry Styles

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