Imagine: Harry coming into the common room, and finding you painting: a skill he didn’t know you could do. [x]
Harry: What are you up to- *sees your sketch book*
Y/N: Oh, hi Harry. *smiles* I’m... I’m just painting.
Harry: I didn’t know you could paint! Can I look closer? You’re so talented.
Y/N: Aw, well thank you. I don’t usually show people... But, I’ll make an exception for you.
Want to request an imagine?
[A/N: I no longer take Harry Potter requests; please do not send any]
harry is just on the edge of thirty, and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out, anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated.
next part (sangiovese)
part three (moscato)
part four (malvasia)
part five (parellada)
final part (merlot)
Harry hadn't realized how long it had been until he walked through the chattering restaurant.
He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had gone out; out for something more than a business meeting or picking up takeout to bring back home where he would eat while pouring over paperwork for the next day. It wasn't until he spotted the door to the private room where a friend's birthday party was being held that he realized it had been a little over six months since he had allowed himself to relax and enjoy the life his hard work had earned him. He could barely contain the bubbling excitement he felt as he reached the door to the party, able to hear the quiet chatter of his friends on the other side.
"Harry! You made it!"
He heard the slightly drunken voice call for him as soon as he slipped through the door. The room was bathed in soft lighting, a private bar lined the back wall of the room with various tables set up throughout, people sat at some while others were only used to house gifts and food. Strips of windows allowed for a look outside the restaurant, both of the city life outside and the quiet patio out back. The patio area was left with only a few others milling about, having been rented out in conjunction with the main party room.
Harry looked to whoever it was that called for him, finding his friend, Tawny, already making her way over with a flute of a bubbling, amber liquid in her hand. A smile stretched across his features at the sight. He had missed this.
"I was just telling them how I was worried you weren't going to make it, thinking you got called into some meeting last minute," she continued as she reached him, clumsily gesturing behind her with the flute in her hand. She settled a friendly hand on his bicep, using the hold to steady herself as she looked up at him with flushed cheeks.
"Not tonight. Nice to see you again," Harry smiled, leaning down and wrapping an arm around her waist in a hug. "Where's Charlotte?" he asked as he drew away, referencing the birthday girl for the night.
"Oh! She's by the bar with Tom and Jenny." Tawny pointed him in the direction of the bar, Charlotte being the one dressed in a pair of bright, paisley printed bottoms with a sparkling birthday tiara on her head.
Harry nodded his head, turning to match Tawny's gaze again before stepping towards the bar. "I'll find you later, yeah? 'M gonna go say hi."
She only nodded her head before flitting off to another group, leaving Harry to navigate through to the bar. He greeted each person who noticed him, promising to return later to catch everyone up on what he had been doing since they last saw him (just a bunch of nothing filled with paperwork and late nights at the office).
"Charlotte! Happy Birthday!" he bubbled when he reached the bar, opening his arms to wrap her in a hug.
"Thank you so much for coming, H. It's been so long since you've come out with us," she smiled at him, reciprocating his hug.
Harry pulled up a barstool after they parted from their hug, setting his gift for her down on the bartop. "I know, 'm sorry. Jus' been busy lately, but 'm gonna try to come out more. I miss everyone."
"Don't be sorry, its okay! We all understand, I'm just happy you made it" she insisted, the tinseled base of her birthday crown catching the light as she shook her head. Her eyes brightened as she caught sight of something behind his head, a beaming smile tugging at her lips as she waved whoever it was over. "Mitch, look who's here! Harry finally made it!"
"Harry! How have you been?! You haven't been out with us in so long!"
It felt good to be back.
"'M gonna grab another drink, I'll be right back!" Harry called over his shoulder, waving behind him to the group that had brought him out to the patio with them. Once everyone got over the whole how are you, its been so long small talk, the group settled into the swing of things just as they used to. It felt nice to be surrounded by people he didn't know through work, both the patio and the main room now filled with people celebrating Charlotte's birthday and people he hadn't seen for the better part of the year. He did feel a bit guilty, though, feeling like people were paying as much—if not more—attention to him than Charlotte for the night. But, she didn't seem to mind (or notice at all, really) as she flitted about the party with a flushed smile on her face, draping herself across every person she talked to.
When he reached the bar, the bartender raised a questioning brow at him with a smile on her face. "Jus' another Old Fashioned, please," Harry requested, leaning over the bar before pulling out his phone and scrolling through his missed notifications. He tried his best to peel away from the work related emails that generated on his lock screen, but he couldn't help but peek at the subject line before someone saved him from his self-inflicted torture.
"You never came and found me again, asshole," Tawny giggled behind him, coming up to stand beside him at the bar.
"Sorry," he laughed, gratefully locking his phone and putting away the emails, "Mitch and everyone pulled me outside, and you know I can't be pulled away from karaoke."
Tawny playfully rolled her eyes at him, twisting against the bar so her back was against the structure as she faced the main room. Harry mimicked her gaze, looking over his shoulder to find what had taken her attention. A few new faces had shown up since he had arrived; faces of people he couldn't wait to catch up with. He pretended as if he wasn't looking for one guest in particular, though he knew his shoulders minutely dropped in disappointment when his fleeting scan of the room came up empty. Maybe, she wasn't coming tonight.
"Oh, my god," Tawny breathed, her voice low as a look of disbelief crossed her features. She spared a glance towards Harry before returning her eyes to the subject of her shock. "I think Andrew came with Iris tonight."
He recognized the names but couldn't place why Tawny would be so surprised to see them together. They both were apart of their friend group, though Andrew always left a sour taste in Harry's mouth.
He was a bit of a dick who acted as if he were still some college frat guy despite being only a year younger than Harry himself; he was rude in the name of being 'blunt', and enjoyed entertaining a playboy lifestyle while promising these women a future of the opposite with him. Harry didn't like him, but he tolerated him for the sake of being the bigger person. As for Iris, he only really hung out with her when the whole group was present but she was very nice and very funny as far as he could remember. It wasn't odd for some of their group to pair off with each other, so he didn't understand what Tawny was getting at. Had he really missed so much?
"What's wrong with that?" he questioned, watching the way Iris leaned against Andrew's side as they talked to one of Charlotte's friends he didn't recognize.
"Oh, that's right, you haven't hung out in a while," Tawny mused, pulling her disappointed stare from the couple, "You haven't heard what happened with (Y/N) yet, have you?"
A smile threatened to tug at his lips at the mention of her name. That's who he'd been looking for.
Harry couldn't deny the small crush he harbored for her, never able to pull his eyes from her or his attention away when he was in her presence. She was funny, and smart, and so kind, and entirely too beautiful to be fair. He remembered when Iris brought her around the very first time, the two of them being close, and Harry could already tell she was going to be hard to forget. It had been at a little get together at Charlotte's house, only the core group of people in attendance with Iris' plus one, and he remembers being so caught up when he first saw her, he completely stopped speaking in the middle of a conversation with Mitch.
After promptly being teased, Harry made it his mission to get to know her that night, listening intently to each of her little stories and the small introduction Iris offered on her behalf. He found that they had the same taste in music and a similar sense of humor that Harry could see made her feel more at ease when he would laugh at her jokes. He had planned on asking for her number and hoping to make plans to see her again by the end of the night, having decided he wanted to see more of her without the pressure of their friend group watching on. It wasn't until (Y/N) tossed out some throw away comment to Iris just as everyone was saying their goodbyes, that he put his phone away and realized he was going to need to minimize his affection for her to see her as nothing but a friend.
"No, I have to go to bed early tonight. I have a lecture at eight tomorrow morning with that one professor that marks you off if you're not at least five minutes early." He remembers the way she rolled her eyes as she finished off her comment, shrugging her jacket on her shoulders before following after Iris to say goodnight to everyone.
She was in school. She was young enough to still be in college, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for spending so much time flirting with her that night and planning his next move. He'd never really considered himself old before, still being on the so-called 'right side' of thirty (though he figured he's more so on the precipice of the right side, his birthday only a few months away), but there was something about the fact that she was young enough to be taking classes to prepare her for a career ahead while he had already been established for years in his, that made him feel guilty. He knew by all intents and purposes, there wasn't anything wrong with being interested in her, but he couldn't help but feel like the creepy older man that he'd heard women complain about so often. She probably didn't want him following her around and trying to earn her affection when she was just trying to make friends.
So, that night, Harry remembers the way he quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket—earning a confused glance from Mitch—before offering (Y/N) a friendly hug goodbye, and a quiet nice to meet you! falling from his lips. He lingered only a few minutes longer afterwards, following after Mitch who left soon after his own goodbyes. Since then, he'd made a choice every time she came out with them, to keep things on a level just below professional. He cared about her, but he'd rather keep her at an arm's length than make her any degree of uncomfortable, even if that crush he had for her never really dissipated.
"Um, no," Harry answered, the bartender sliding him his icy glass, "What happened?" He dreaded to hear what could have conspired between (Y/N) and Andrew, the latter's name already causing a tick in his jaw.
A downturned expression pulled at Tawny's features, the kind of look he imagined she would pull after watching a commercial with sad animals. "Apparently," she started, waving her hand in front of her, "(Y/N) and Andrew had been talking for the past couple of weeks, and they were supposed to go out last weekend, on a real date. (Y/N) told Charlotte that they were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but Andrew just stood her up. She waited for over an hour, I'm pretty sure, and he didn't even say anything until almost midnight that night. He told her he was 'sorry'"—she curled her fingers in the air to mimic quotation marks around the word, as well as a roll of her eyes,—"but that it was 'probably for the best, anyway', and that he'd been seeing someone else or something like that. She told Charlotte everything after she got home from the restaurant that night, but no one's really heard from her since. And it seems like whoever Andrew was seeing, though, turned out to be Iris."
Harry followed Tawny's line of sight, viewing the way Iris held onto Andrew's arm so tightly through a different lens. Of course, Andrew would try it with (Y/N), of course he would. Not only did he try to worm his way into her life, but he took the same chance Harry had been dying to take for months, and used it to tear (Y/N) down and replace her with someone he knew was close to her. Harry felt a bout of anger flare through him at the realization of what Andrew had most likely done to (Y/N). He always bragged on and on about how he was able to charm one girl this night, and another the next, telling them sweet stories of their beauty and the way they made his heart race and how he would do anything to be with them. He was good at playing the shy, crushing boy just before he got the attention he wanted—typically some kind of sexual favor—, then leaving. Harry was always more than disinterested and disgusted with these stories, and to add (Y/N)'s face into the mix did nothing to settle the tense that fell over his shoulders and the irrational thought of marching over to Andrew and finally laying into him the way he'd wanted since he met him.
"Fucking dick, right?" Tawny interrupted his stewing, her words coming out as an exasperated sigh.
"'S what I've been sayin' since he started coming around," Harry grumbled, sipping on the drink in his hand as a way to stop himself from throwing it over Andrew's head. "How do any of us even fucking know him?"
Tawny laughed at his question, shaking her head as if she had no idea either. She settled after a moment, her features taking on that pity look again. "It just sucks because (Y/N)'s so nice, and she told Charlotte that she thought he really liked her. I don't think she's even talked to anyone since she got here tonight, she's still so upset."
"She's here?" A furrow pulled at Harry's brow as he faced Tawny. Since becoming more comfortable around everyone, (Y/N) had turned into something of a butterfly that flitted around every get-together and left a trail of bright laughter and sparkling smiles behind her. She typically left the wallflower position open for Harry to fill, allowing him the privilege of admiring her.
"Exactly," Tawny mumbled, casting her gaze off to a table to the side of the room, hidden by the pile of gifts on another. Harry could just barely see the pink of (Y/N)'s top around the gift bags flooding the table in front of her, her face lit up by her phone in her hands and a watered down glass of something next to her with only chips of ice left in place of the cubes. "Are you going to talk to her?" Tawny asked, sipping on her own drink beside Harry.
He thought about it for a moment, figuring that if she wanted to talk about it, she would have. And she would probably want to talk to someone she actually knew, not some guy that hung out with her friends occasionally. "I don't know. If she wanted to talk about it, she would have with one of y'guys, already. I don't want to push her."
"If she's going to talk about it with anyone, I think it'd be you, actually. She really likes you, you know." Tawny spoke so nonchalantly, Harry didn't think she realized just how hard his heart was beating in that moment. "Every time we've gone out since you got promoted, she's asked if you were going to be there, and when you were going to be coming out with us again; she missed you. I think she'd be really happy to talk to you, H."
Harry took one more glance at (Y/N), finding her gaze still fixed on her phone though it didn't look like she was even seeing what was on her screen.
He slowly nodded his head, picking his drink up from the bar before looking towards Tawny. "I'll be right back."
Harry only saw Tawny nod at him with a small smile on her face before he made his way towards (Y/N)'s private table. She didn't notice him as he rounded the corner around the gift table.
"Do y'mind if I sit with you?" Harry had barely gotten his question out of his mouth before (Y/N) snapped her head up to look at him, her phone falling flat onto the table in front of her. It wasn't until then that Harry saw the smallest of glittery little tears sitting in the waterline of her eyes.
(Y/N) was quick to wipe them away, feigning the action as a motion to move her hair from her face. She beamed up at him with a surprised look on her face, one that eased his heart just a bit from the revelation that she had been on the verge of crying just a minute ago. "Harry! Of course, you can! I didn't know you were coming tonight, its been so long."
A small smile tugged at Harry's features as he pulled out the chair beside her. "It has been a while," he affirmed, biting his tongue to stop himself from immediately diving into calling Andrew every horrible name in the book.
"How have you been? I heard you got promoted at your marketing firm, right?" She voice titled upward at around the title of his job, posing a question around if he really worked in marketing or if she'd got it wrong.
Harry couldn't stop the lopsided smile that hit his features. She remembered.
"Marketing, yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head as his fingers traced around his glass, "Jus' been busy with work. Definitely a lot more paperwork now, but 's worth it. How 'bout you? How are your classes and everything?"
(Y/N)'s gaze fell when he started his line of questioning, her smile dropping just the smallest bit at the corners. "I've been good. It's been a long week, lots of homework since finals are coming up. But it's really nice to see everyone again, I feel like it's been so long. Longer for you, though, I'm sure." She ended with a small laugh, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, but Harry wasn't surprised. He knew she was lying.
He remembers being her age, and wanting so badly for everyone to like him. The ways he shifted and changed his personality to be the person he thought others wanted him to be, in hopes of earning their acceptance. She was trying so hard to make it seem like she was just as happy as usual, make it easy for others to interact with her. She was much too good for Andrew, and for anyone really—including, himself. How Andrew could act so nonchalantly after blowing out her light, Harry would never understand. And, if he had a better back and didn't have a meeting tomorrow morning, he would have dragged Andrew outside and finally tried out all the moves he's learned since he's taken up boxing. But he couldn't leave (Y/N), not when she so obviously didn't want to be alone, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
"If y'need any help, I could try," he offered, a small smile on his face as he tried to meet her downturned gaze, "Don't know if m'business degree would be much help in your english classes, though."
Harry felt his heart skip a beat as a ghost of a smile crossed her features, accompanied by a breathy laugh she stifled down. "You mean you've never had to analyze Beowulf and describe each of the pagan elements and how they pertained to the Christian beliefs of the eighth century?" She tried her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, but Harry could still see the smile edging at her lips.
"'S crazy the way they jus' gave out degrees when I was in school, cause I've got no idea what you're even talking about," Harry laughed, absently leaning over the table as he spoke, closer to (Y/N). His eyes were glued to the way she laughed at his teasing, the bright smile that covered her face and, if he hadn't known any better, he would have thought she was the happiest girl in the room with the way sunshine poured from her giggle.
Harry let a beat pass between them, feeling his own smile fade as he remembered why he came over in the first place. He didn't want to pull the small shred of happiness that had wormed its way onto her features, but he also didn't want her to feel like she had to hide the way she felt just because she wanted others to feel comfortable around her.
He swallowed, fixing his gaze to his glass, following the droplets of water dotting the outside. "Tawny told me, by the way," he mumbled, flicking his gaze to her for just a second before settling back on his drink. "About—um—about Andrew."
"Oh, that" she breathed, her tone edged with a laugh Harry wasn't expecting. He shifted his eyes to see her reaction, finding a forced kind of amusement tainting her features. Though she tried to feign lightheartedness, there was an embarrassed edge that lined her features in the way she bit the inside of her cheek and refused to match his gaze.
He rolled his lips between his teeth as he figured his next words, cautiously eyeing the reddened waterline of her eyes and the sheen that now covered her irises. "I jus' wanted to tell y'that 'm sorry, and y'don't deserve that. Andrew's a dick and 'm here for you, even though I can't come around all the time. 'M always here."
She pursed her lips as he spoke, seemingly unable to even process his words as she fought off the small collection of tears that pooled in the waterline of her eyes. Her bottom lip wobbled the harder she tried to fight off the sobs that were working in her chest, sniffling her nose. Against her wishes, the tears lacquering her eyes overwhelmed the ledge of her waterline, her tears flowing in hot streaks that left streams down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaky and barely audible over the distant chatter around the room. She delicately brought her fingers to her eyes, trying her best to stop the tears from pouring down her face. She refused to look at Harry, or even in the other direction where Andrew and Iris were still fawning over one another, her gaze fixed to her glass that was now more water than lemonade. "I don't know why I'm cr-crying. It's not even that big of a deal, I'm just being over-overdramatic. I'm sorry."
Harry waved away her apologies with a shake of his head, his brow furrowing as he scooted his chair closer to her's. He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulder, knowing she needed comfort more than any rules he had set for himself. He pulled her closer to his side, her tears now carrying small bits of black from her mascara. She leaned gratefully into him, her cheek laying against his shoulder as Harry propped his chin on the top of her head.
"Don't need to be sorry, love, really. You're not being overdramatic, promise." His voice was quiet as he spoke against her hair, even sparing a small kiss to her temple as he squeezed his arm around her shoulder. He let her cry into him for a moment, her hands fluttering over her face in an attempt to clean her face from the already smudged black under her eyes and the tracks trailing down her cheeks.
He cooed small reassuring words to her, hoping she would still be able to hear them over the stuttered breathing that filtered through her lungs. He tried to shield her as best he could from the party, covering most of her with his own body so she could feel some semblance of privacy. He heard her breathe something similar to that of This is so embarrassing, broken up by stuttered breaths and her crackling voice.
"C'mon," he whispered to her, ducking his head to her ear. He started getting up from his seat, offering his hand out for (Y/N) to take, "Let's go somewhere quiet, yeah?"
"Okay," she peeped, keeping her head down as she stood up, pressing her palm to Harry's before lacing their fingers together.
He led her through to the patio, the space now cleared as the temperature had dropped. He pulled her to one of the tables in the corner, so no one could peek at them from the main room. One side of the table had a booth setup, allowing (Y/N) to pull Harry along to slide in next to her. Once settled into the farthest corner of the booth, she slipped her hand out from his and tended to the petite tears that had continued to fall down her cheeks as he led them outside.
Her fingertips were smudged with the black of her mascara, matching that of the soft skin of her undereyes. A crease formed in Harry's brow, watching the way she began harshly scrubbing at her cheeks as her breathing came in stuttering inhales.
"Sweetheart," he cooed, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist, "Stop, 's okay."
He pulled her hands from her face, before grabbing one of the cloth napkins set out on the table. Twisting in his spot, he brought the linen to her face, the tip of his finger wrapped in the fabric. He pat the dewy skin on her cheeks, flakes of black from her lashes being transferred on to the clean white of the napkin.
"I'm being s-so dumb, I'm so sorry, Harry," she swallowed around the lump in her throat, her voice nasally as Harry delicately pat at her undereyes. "The one time you're able t-to come out with us and I cry all over you for no-no reason."
"Stop," Harry repeated with a sigh. Pinching her chin between his index finger and thumb, he gently positioned her head as he continued to wipe at her eyes and try his best to lessen the tears still slowly leaking from her ducts. "You're not dumb. Or overdramatic. 'S normal t'feel this way. What he did was awful, (Y/N), and I can't imagine how it feels to see him again so soon with someone else. Y'don't deserve that. You're not dumb for feeling."
As he spoke, Harry was aware of the way her bottom lip wobbled under his hold and the rejuvenated sheen of tears that fell over her eyes. She drew her gaze to match his own concerned one before she fell into his chest, Harry abandoning the now dirtied linen in his hand in favor of wrapping his arms around her. She cuddled closely to his chest, her face buried in his neck with her own arms looped round his middle.
"Just sucks," she whispered into his skin, her voice lighter than the kiss of her lashes against the column of his throat.
"I know, but 's gonna be okay," Harry sighed, cautiously resting his cheek on the top of her head. He wanted to say more, his thoughts wiped of all other goals than to make her happy. All he wanted was to speak the truth, sing her praises and promise her just how much better she was than Andrew and the grief he had caused her. But he didn't want to scare her, or make her any kind of uncomfortable, especially since she had sought out comfort in him.
"Hm?" He stroked his hand down her back, (Y/N)'s own hands fisting at the softened fabric of his shirt.
She swallowed, Harry able to feel the motion against his shoulder before she spoke. "Is this always going to happen to me?"
Harry swore his heart broke at her words. The resigned edging to her voice made it all that much more painful as it felt like the edges of his cracked heart raked down his chest. He gently peeled her from the home she had made against his chest, his hands on her shoulders. He ducked his head to match her downcast gaze.
"(Y/N)," he started, a stern edging to the honey coated call, "You are so kind, and smart, and funny, and gorgeous. There are so many people who realize all of those things, I promise you. And those are the people who are going to treat y'right, and take care of you the way y'deserve." A wild idea flittered through Harry's head, threatening to slip from his mouth before he stopped himself. Though he wished he could allow them to fall, he was scared of the reaction he would garner, especially when (Y/N) was already so emotional. He didn't want to push any harder.
She shook her head as she looked off to the side, avoiding his relentless gaze. The leftover tears from her previous sessions pooled on her waterline, dripping down in slow succession. "But this is what happens every time. How else am I supposed to be treated?"
Harry's eyes flicked down to his hands that laid in his lap, twisting his rings around his fingers. He rolled his lips between his teeth, making a last minute decision he hoped he wouldn't regret.
He brought his head up to find (Y/N) also looking towards his hands, the saddened look on her face he hoped would be wiped away. "Y'deserve so much, (Y/N). Anyone would be lucky to show y'how y'should be treated,"—he nervously gulped before squaring his shoulders and feigning confidence—"How a man should treat you, not whatever it is that Andrew thinks he is."
Her eyes were wide as she finally matched his gaze, the dotted glow of the fairy lights around them adding a shine to her eyes he noticed was no longer from tears. She didn't offer any commentary, only looking to him for answers to questions she hadn't even posed yet. But he knew. And he knew just how he was going to answer them, even if he had to pretend he had no doubt in his mind of her reaction.
"I could show you," he started, tracing his gaze along her features in an effort to gauge her reaction. "If y'wanted, I could take y'out and show y'how that date should have gone, and how they all should be after. As friends, though, of course."
His final statement was added in a rush. All he wanted was to see her smile again, this picture of her with tears in her eyes and tracks down her cheeks doing more destruction on his heart than he thought possible. Although this was a bit of a self-indulgent way of getting her to smile, he would never expect anything from her or their time together.
"A date?" she asked, a tint of disbelief to her voice.
Harry bit back his smile, teeth digging into the full of his bottom lip. He nodded his head, hoping he hadn't blown his chance at even just a friendship with her.
He watched on as a smile bloomed across (Y/N)'s features. "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course, I would." The matching dimples on either cheek made themselves known as Harry matched her smile. "Heard y'missed me anyway, so it'd be nice to spend time together." His voice held a teasing lilt as the moment turned to a much lighter note.
Her jaw dropped in a shocked expression, her eyes wide. "Who told you that?! Was it Tawny? I told her not to tell you!"
"Why not, love?" Harry beamed, his heart skipping a beat over her admission of missing him. "I think 's cute."
"Stop," she whined, a shy smile on her face as she flitted her gaze to the scene behind him.
Harry couldn't stop himself before his response dropped from his mouth, but he felt like he could say anything at this point. He could say and do anything as long as she looked at him with the stars in her eyes (even though he was pretty sure those were just the fairy lights). "I missed y'too, you know. 'M really happy I got to see you tonight."
Her smile only widened as she dropped her gaze to her lap where her hands suddenly became restless under the attention. "Me too, even if I started crying two minutes into talking." Harry could see the roll of her eyes.
"I mean, y'still got a date out of it, so I think y'did alright."
"Yeah," she smiled, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to her head, "I've never been on a 'friend date' before. Thank you for asking me, Harry. It means a lot."
Though the addition of the word 'friend' caused a small drop to his shoulders, he was more than excited for the date, even with the predetermined conditions. The night wasn't going to be about him and his feelings for her, it was going to be about the way she deserved to be treated and the wiping away of the imprint Andrew left on her. The night was going to be about making her happy. That was all Harry wanted from her.
"Y'deserve it, sweetheart."
As soon as she was ready, Harry led them back to the thick of the party with her following closely behind him. He had spent the rest of the party closer to (Y/N) than he had ever allowed himself. Especially as the night was winding down, the main group of them (minus Iris and Andrew, who had snuck off earlier in the night and never returned) being the only people remaining, (Y/N) seemed to have made it her mission to stick by Harry's side as much as she could. They hadn't talked much more about the date other than setting it up for next Friday night after he got off work, allowing Harry to fall back into his favored wallflower position as (Y/N) lit up the room despite the red rim around her eyes and the puff of her cry-swollen lips.
It was only after Charlotte had started dozing off with her birthday tiara going sideways on the top of her head, that the night was called to be wrapped up. Even after all of the chattering goodbyes were shared, and the joking requests that Harry shouldn't wait so long before coming out again, he couldn't help himself from delaying his departure from (Y/N).
She had just shrugged on her purple jacket, clumsily tugging up the zipper when (Y/N) looked to Harry who was lent against the doorway with his car keys in one hand and phone in the other. Harry had looked at her through his lashes, a small smile on his lips as he caught her gaze.
"Bye, Harry," she said, her voice soft and quiet to match the warming glow of the last few threads of light strung across the room.
"Don't sound so sad," he started with a coo, opening his arms for her to fall into, "We'll see each other again really soon, remember?" She nodded her head against his chest, Harry able to feel the smush of her cheek against his skin as she smiled.
She was the first to pull back, Harry allowing her to set the the pace of their contact though he wished he could have frozen that moment and just held her for even a second longer. Now that he knew what it felt like to have her warmth seeping through his skin, he couldn't get enough of it.
She looked to him with a softness to her gaze he was sure no one but her could ever achieve, as if her irises were melting before him. "Yeah, we will," her voice just barely louder than a whisper. Harry felt his breathing hitch in his throat as her hands slid from his neck and down his chest with her palms laying flat against the fabric of his jacket. Her own gaze followed her hands, only bashfully looking to Harry through her lashes. "Thank you again, by the way. For staying with me tonight, I'm sure it wasn't how you were planning on spending your first night hanging out with us all again."
A lopsided smile tugged at his features, leaving a soft kink in his lips as he gave a reassuring squeeze with his hands on her waist. "Of course. Whenever y'need me I'll be there. I wouldn't have wanted to spend it any other way."
She dropped her eyes to his feet as she took in his words, the toes of his boots just a hair away from touching her own shoes. Small strands of hair fell and obstructed Harry's view of her face, something he had to stop himself from fixing by brushing the hairs back and cradling her cheeks so she would face him again. Instead he allowed her that small moment of shy privacy, knowing that with the grouping of people who were distractedly eyeing their interaction, they would both surely be interrogated soon enough.
"I should probably go," she mumbled, reluctantly pulling her hands from his chest and taking a step back as she pulled her keys from her jacket. "But we'll see each other soon, right?"
Her reiteration of his words only solidified the smile on his face.
Harry nodded his head, dropping his hands from her waist and sliding them back into the pockets of his jacket. "'M excited already."
(Y/N) made her exit after that, tossing a wave to the rest of the group before looking to Harry one more time with a quiet smile on her face. He wanted to walk her out tonight, indulge himself the smallest bit and give himself more time with her, but he wanted to save everything for when he took her out for real.
It wasn't until Harry had made his own exit and was getting his car started to go home did he receive the text he was expecting from the moment he pulled (Y/N) outside with him.
I told you so.
Harry doesn't think he's been this nervous in a long time. Maybe it was because he hadn't been on a date since his last relationship (a little over two years, then), or because he's never wanted a first date to go so perfectly in his life. He had made reservations the next morning after Charlotte's party and had gotten to know just how few florists were in his area with the amount of time he spent browsing over bouquets. The whole seven days he had to wait to see (Y/N) again were spent with Harry trying his best to plan out every single detail, right down to the outfit he wanted to wear in the event that she wore a this dress he had seen posted to her instagram in the weeks prior. He wanted to match her.
He looked at himself in the mirror one more time, the bouquet of peach colored roses and white daisies resting on the table below. Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. His curls tumbled through his fingers as he puffed out his cheeks with a heavy exhale. His gaze traveled down his form, hands distractedly smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his black blazer. He carefully tugged on the mint green dress shirt underneath, pulling the lapels out just far enough that the delicate baby's breath flower embroidery could be seen. He worried for a minute, debating if he should button his top back up—if his show of skin, with the tips of his bird tattoos showing, was too much. He shook off his indecision, instead adjusting the string of pearls around his neck so the clasp faced the back.
He had to stop himself when he swore he saw a chip in his freshly painted black nails, knowing he was convincing himself of such flaws out of jittery nerves. He double checked the time on his phone; thirty-two minutes before he promised he would be at her door. He wanted to ensure he wasn't a second late to pick her up. He cradled the bouquet delicately to his chest, and took in a deep breath before leaving.
The drive was familiar from the few times (Y/N) opted to host gatherings and Harry was able to make it. While he was eased by the knowledge—the possibility of him showing up at the wrong complex at a slim-to-none chance—the familiarity caused the time to go by faster than Harry even realized. With nerves still fluttering through his fingers and seeping into his veins, he walked the staircase up to her apartment. He gripped the bouquet like a lifeline as the pacing off is footsteps matched the thrumming of his heart. The path to her door was a blur, Harry acting on autopilot until the golden lettering declaring her apartment number stared him in the face. With a practiced breath, he knocked on the door.
Each second felt like an hour with his heartbeat creating a soundtrack that rushed through his ears. He held the bouquet in front of his chest, hoping for the flowers to be the first thing she saw when she opened the door. He could faintly hear the rattling of the doorknob on the other side before it was swung open to unveil his date for the night.
In her pajamas.
"Harry?" (Y/N) looked to him with her eyes wide and her jaw dropped in a small gape. Her skin was clean of makeup with her hair pinned into a knot on the top of her head. Strawberry printed pajama shorts adorned her legs with a worn grey top slouching off her shoulder.
This wasn't quite how Harry had pictured her outfit for the night, assuming she would have opted for one of those flirty outfits she posted on her social medias, but if this is what she wanted, he had no quarrels. He couldn't deny she still looked beautiful, so he had no reason to complain.
"Are you ready?" he questioned, a lopsided smile on his lips as he gazed down at her. She most likely needed to put shoes on at the very least, if the fuzzy socks with cat faces printed all over them had anything to say.
Her gaze dropped to flowers held tightly in his grip. "You were serious? About the date?"
Harry's heart dropped at her words. Had she not been serious in her acceptance? Had he just made a huge fool of himself? He guessed he's avoided her before, but maybe now he would have to be much more deliberate with his appearances.
His free hand rubbed at the back of his burning neck, lowering his gaze to the flowers that now smelled too sweet. "Yeah," he breathed, an embarrassed flush working its way up his chest, "But if y'changed your mind or anything, I completely understand. I apologize for interrupting your ni—"
"No!" she rushed, flailing her hand in front of her to match her shaking head, "I-I didn't! I just thought you had only asked to make me feel better last week, since I was crying all over you and everything." Her voice ended in a humorless breath of a laugh, her gaze matching his with a bashful softness to her irises he had missed in her absence.
His smile turned a shy corner as the dimple in his cheek deepened. "I did want y'to feel better, but I meant it when I asked you. I really do wanna take y'out and show y'how you're supposed to be treated. If you'll let me."
"I want you to, really!" she stressed, bouncing in place with stray strands of hair leaking from her bun, "I'm so sorry, Harry, I guess I just—I don't know. I need to get ready, but I'll be right back! You can come in and wait, if you want." She stepped back from the doorframe, allowing Harry the space to slip in, the heels of his boots soundless against the fluffy grey rug in her walkway.
"These are for you, by the way," Harry smiled, handing the arrangement out for her as she locked he door behind him.
Her eyes rounded out as with a puppy dog's softness as she gazed solely up at him, as if she hadn't seen the bouquet at all. "They're so pretty, Harry. Thank you." She gave him the sweetest smile as she took them from his grip, muttering something about putting them in water. "You can put on some Netflix or something if you want, I'm so sorry you have to wait on me!" she called from the kitchen, her voice trailing farther away as she moved towards her room.
"'S not a problem, take your time," he answered back, moving towards the living room to her secondhand, brown suede sofa.
Just as he was about to take a seat on one of the cushions, he heard the sound of feet pattering along the hardwood. A moment later (Y/N) popped up beside him, still in her pajamas with her hair now pulled back by a pearl studded headband. She wrapped her arms around his middle with the full of her cheek smushed against his chest.
"Thank you so much, Harry," she mumbled against the fabric of his jacket, her grip tight. Sincerity dripped from her words, cloaking over his heart in a warming glow.
Without a thought, Harry draped his arms around her as best he could from the angle she offered. He dropped his head to rest on her hair, his cheek atop her head. With his eyes fluttering closed, he savored the contact and held her just as tightly as she.
"Of course, love," he whispered against her hair, lips brushing the crown of her head.
She reluctantly pulled back first, a soft smile on her face Harry hoped he would be able to memorize by the end of the night. "I'm gonna go finish, but I'll be as fast as I can."
With that, she scuttled off back down the hall. Harry couldn't shake the smile on his face as he settled on her couch, the ghost of her silhouette burned against his form. He mindlessly looked through the titles on the TV with no comprehension of what he was seeing, much too distracted with the memory of her hold. If he wasn't already completely gone for her before, he figured he would be going home love-drunk after this date.
Time passed with half an episode of Bake Off Harry didn't remember selecting playing from the television, he heard the sound of her feet, now clad in what had to be a set of heels, stepping down the hall. He stood from his spot on the couch, turning around to find her adjusting her outfit in the full length mirror posted on the wall beside the bathroom.
Just as he had hoped, the same clean, white dress she had posed in on her instagram weeks earlier adorned her body, embroidered with flowers the same shade of cream that matched the ones on Harry's own shirt. The satin base of the dress wrapped around her body, the hem ending at the middle of her thighs while the tulle overlay boasting the delicate blossoms reached her ankles. The silken tie in the waist tugged one side of the dress to the other, allowing the tulle skirt to split and sway behind her with each step she took. The neckline laid wide across her shoulders, framing her collarbones before the tulle of the sleeves wisped around her arms and cinched at her wrist. Her hair was simply held back by the pearl headband, the clean white matching that of her dress with her dewy lips and wide eyes stealing most of Harry's attention.
He was sure his jaw had dropped as soon as he caught sight of her. There was no other reaction that could have properly suited her appearance beside dropping to his knees in worship.
She looked to him once she gave up on taming the flyaways that escaped her hairstyle. She gave him a soft, apologetic smile, her lashes curving outwards with a flick towards her brows. "I tried to be as fast as I could, I hope I didn't mess up your plans."
"Y'look... gorgeous, (Y/N)." He couldn't manage any other thoughts to leave his mouth, nothing coherent enough to make sense.
She released her gaze from his with a shy smile on her face, finding interest in the white heels on her feet. "Thank you. I wanted to look like I belonged next to you."
Could a heart break and swell at the same time? In what world would she have to work at being on his level when she was so clearly leagues above him in all senses of the word?
"I dunno, love," Harry smiled, "I think everyone is gonna know I was the one that had to beg for a date with you." He couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed of his forward flirting, allowing himself the smallest of indulgences for the night knowing this would be a one time thing.
(Y/N) only held a bashful smile on her face at his words, the shine of the satin wrapped around her body rivaling that of the gleam in her eyes.
"Ready?" he asked again, mimicking that of when he first arrived at her apartment.
She was quick to nod her head and take his offered arm, still shy as she leaned against his side with the skirt of her dress brushing against his leg.
"We match! Like our flowers, I mean!" (Y/N) bubbled once he opened the car door for her, gaze attached to the flowers stitched on his top.
Harry smiled, nodding his head and mumbling out a small we do, huh. Just as he had hoped.
"Reservation under Styles, please."
The hostess nodded her head, tapping away at the tablet in front of her as she offered a polite smile. (Y/N)'s hand was placed in the crook of Harry's elbow, her hold tight as she looked above at the crystalline chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pride puff at his chest from the way she seemed to be in awe of the restaurant he had picked for them that night. This was just the beginning of the follow through to his promise he made a week earlier. He planned on thoroughly proving how she deserved to be treated after other's had convinced her otherwise.
"C'mon," he whispered to her, his voice hush as he shuffled towards the friendly waitress that beckoned them to their table. (Y/N) snapped her head in his direction with her eyes still wide, reflecting the prismatic drops that hung from the chandeliers.
Harry maneuvered her in front of him, reluctantly pulling her delicate hold from his arm in favor of nudging her ahead of him. He stayed close behind (Y/N) as she followed the smartly dressed waitress, reassuringly cuddling her hand in his when she reached back. He smiled as he listened in to the way she shyly engaged in small talk with their waitress—who introduced herself to be Tara—with her free hand nervously toying with the satin bow at her waist.
"Is this table to your liking?" Tara asked, her smile bright as she stopped next to a small table set in an intimate corner of the restaurant.
"Yes, thank you," Harry responded for the both of them. He was quick to move around (Y/N), pulling out her chair before looking to her with a smile. She shyly thanked him with her voice quiet enough for only him to hear before settling in the offered seat. Harry pushed the chair in before rounding the table and sitting in his own across from her's.
The waitress made her exit after dropping off the menus with a promise to return in just a moment for their drink orders. Harry answered for the both of them, leaving (Y/N) to examine the menu in front of her with wide eyes and careful fingers lingering along the edges. He admired her with a small smile on his lips, taking in the way she seemed to attempt to memorize every single detail of everything in her sight.
"What do y'think?" he mused, leaning forward with his elbow balanced on the table and his chin propped in his hand.
She snapped her head up to face him, her eyes holding a moony sparkle as she looked at him. "Harry," she sighed, a dreamy tint to her tone, "You didn't have to take me somewhere this nice. I would've been happy to go anywhere with you."
"I know," Harry smiled, enjoying the sound of her affection for him, even if it was only as friends. "But I wanted to make this really special for you. Jus' like I promised, right?"
A timid smile spread over her features with the curl softened by his words. She lowered her gaze from his, Harry too caught up in how endearingly sweet she was to miss the sight of her melted irises.
Just then, Tara approached their table. Her smile was bright and polite as she greeted them. "What can I get you started with?" Tara looked to (Y/N) first, instinctually starting with ladies first.
She floundered under her gaze, flicking her wide eyes to Harry before glancing down at the menu in front of her. "Um—a water, please?" Her answer sounded like a question before she looked back to Harry, her expression akin to the embarrassed look she held just before crying at the party a week ago.
Tara nodded her head, her eyes fixed on the small notepad in her hand before placing her attention on Harry. "And you, sir?"
"Water as well, please. But, we'll share a bottle of your Château de Salle, if possible." He handed back the small drink menu to Tara, offering a smile as she scribbled his request.
"Of course, Mr. Styles. Good choice," she praised, sliding the small notepad into the pocket of her apron, "I'll be back with your drinks and for your dinner orders in just a minute." With that, Tara disappeared to tend to her other tables.
"What's a Ch-Chateau de Salle?" (Y/N) asked, her pronunciation of the wine shaky.
A smile spread across Harry's features. She was so cute. "'S wine," he explained, "A rosé. I think you'll like it."
"Oh," she breathed, her brows raised, "I probably shouldn't drink tonight actually."
"And why is that?" A pinch formed in his own as he gazed at her.
A timid smile pulled at her lips. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm a huge lightweight. I don't want to act too silly in a restaurant this nice." She finished with a laugh, surely recalling some memory of a party Harry halfway attended while the rest of him focused on ensuring he didn't run into (Y/N) too many times.
"'M sure you'll be fine, love. Don't worry about anyone else," he murmured, his voice low as he gestured vaguely around them to the other patrons, "Do whatever y'want, I'll be here to take care of y'anyway." He ended his words with a softened smile, hoping she would heed his advice and do whatever made her happy for the night.
After earning a bashful nod from her, Harry dropped his eyes to the menu in his hands. He quickly skimmed over the options, the menu familiar from the several times he had attended business dinners at the venue.
He allowed his gaze to travel from the menu to slyly glance at the girl across from him through the vignette of his lashes, the dinner lighting creating a divine glow around her form. The pearly headband holding her hair back created a small bump of volume with the accessory emulating a crown on the top of her head. Her fingers tenderly toyed with the ends of her hair, swaying the strands and curling them around her fingertip before allowing them to fall against her collarbones. He delicately traced her features with his eyes, catching the small gape in her glossy lips and the way her gaze darted across the shining pages of the menu in front of her.
"What's looking good, love?" Harry asked, referring to the dinner selection laid out in front of her.
She looked up at him with indecision painted over her features. "I'm not sure," she said, a pinch in her brow appearing as she kept her voice hush, "It's all really expensive, H."
Now it was his turn to furrow his brow, genuinely confused over why she would be worried about the price. "Don't worry about that, okay? I don't mind paying for whatever y'want. I jus' want y'to enjoy this."
Her eyes rounded out at the sound of his words, brows relaxing and going downturned as she gazed at him. "You're paying for me?"
"Of course, (Y/N). So don't worry about any of that, okay? Jus' pick whatever sounds good and I'll take care of the rest." Harry had to hold back a scoff at the idea that he would be anything less than a gentleman and make her pay for her own dinner. He had invited her in the first place, of course he was in charge of paying. He couldn't help but wonder how many other shitty, Andrew-level dates she had been on that had treated her so flagrantly.
She straightened up in her chair, leaning over the table while sliding her menu over to Harry's side. "Th-This sounds good, however you pronounce it," she mumbled, pointing at a pasta dish labeled with Verdi e Bianchi in a delicate curving font. She looked to him for approval, as if asking if her choice was up to par.
"Sounds really good," Harry smiled, hoping she would relax now that she had his approval, though she didn't need it in the first place. Harry pointed at his own choice for the night, (Y/N)'s eyes following his black painted nail as he stopped at Scampi Pomodora e Manta. "I think 'm gonna get that, what do you think?"
She nodded happily while reading the description, body language visibly relaxing. "That looks really good! You're gonna make me change my mind if I think about it too long," she laughed, much more settled than she had been since sitting down. Harry didn't realize how much he had missed her airy giggles and lax smiles until she had become stiff with her nerves.
Just then, Tara returned with the crystalline bottle of rosé in her hand and a bright smile on her face. "Sorry about that wait, are you ready to order?"
Harry nodded his head, answering with a polite yes, please for the both of them while (Y/N) sat back in her seat with her menu flat in front of her. Tara, of course, started with (Y/N) again. She flicked her gaze to the menu in front of her, skimming quickly in an effort to find the ravioli dish she had showed to Harry, before looking to him with a pleading look through her panicked gaze.
Harry straightened in his seat, grabbing his own copy of the menu. "She'll have the Verdi e Bianchi, please," he started, Tara quickly turning to face him before nodding her head and writing down the order, "And I'll have the Scampi Pomodora e Manta. Thank you."
He collected both of the menus and handed them off to Tara before she made her rounds attending to each of her tables. He shifted his gaze to (Y/N), finding her already looking at him with her lips set in a tender smile.
"That alright?" he asked, "Y'still wanted that?"
She quickly nodded her head. "Yeah, thank you for ordering for me. I just get nervous when it's my turn for some reason, especially since I didn't know how to say that one." She shot him a shy smile as she finished, her fingers absently trailing over a bundle of embroidered flowers along the neckline of her dress.
Harry did remember the few times they had all gone out for dinner as a group, (Y/N) always wanting to go last, assuming that by the time it time for her request, everyone was too busy interacting with one another to pay any attention. He hadn't thought it was because of something cute like that fact she didn't want everyone to hear in case she had messed up her order on accident.
Harry gently shook his head with his gaze on the table, a small smile on his face. "S'cute," he mumbled to himself, basically mouthing the words with how quiet he kept his voice.
"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, perking up in her seat with her lashes fluttering as she gazed at him.
"Nothing, love," he brushed off, reaching for the wine Tara left chilling in an ice bucket stationed table side, "Want to try some? Supposed to have 'notes of peach', the bottle says." He nodded to the crystal in his hand as he carefully uncorked the pink tinged glass with the opener left beside the ice.
He saw the way she thought about it for a second, pursing her lips before her gaze landed on the bottle in his hand. She gently nodded her head, a smile blooming across her features as her eyes brightened and matched his own gaze.
He happily complied, pouring her glass first. He stopped just barely halfway filling the bowl, "That good?"
She nodded her head, the tendrils of her hair that escaped from her headband and framed her face bounced alone with her. Harry kept an eye on her as poured his own glass, observing the way she delicately pinched the stem of her cup. He matched her motions, much less hesitant than she, sipping the wine and letting the bubbled peach notes slide over his tongue. She brought the glass to her lips, the spotless crystalline of the bowl making it easy for Harry to catch the way the full of her mouth cushioned the edge of the glass as the pink wine waved towards her.
(Y/N) was quick to pull that glass from her lips after the first sip, her shoulders stiffening and face screwed up in distaste. "I thought you said it was supposed to taste like peach," she accused, her eyes wide under her cinched brow.
Harry's smile seemed to be permanent at this point as he gazed at her with what he was sure was adoring eyes. "Y'don't taste the peach? I thought it was pretty obvious," he teased, figuring she was a bigger fan of the mixed, fruity cocktails she usually drank and not the fermented wine he was sipping from.
"Its sour," she mumbled, dropping her gaze to look accusingly at the glass still held in her hand.
"I can order y'something else if y'want?" he offered, settling his glass down as he tried to recall what the raspberry and sage cocktail was nicknamed on the menu.
She was quick to shake her head in response, "No, no its okay! I just need to get used to it, that's all. I usually drink super cheap, sweet vodka in a can, obviously." She finished with a laugh, bringing the wine to her lips to try another sip despite the way she clenched her eyes shut at the taste.
She caught his gaze over the rim of her glass resting on the full of her bottom lip. He watched on as her lips curved into a sweet smile. He felt his own gaze drop as his eyes scanned over her face, taking each small detail under the dinner lighting.
"What?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side just a bit.
For a split second, Harry pictured himself reaching across the table and fitting his hand around the back of her neck and pulling (Y/N) in for a kiss. He wanted to know if her lips felt just as plush as they looked, what flavor her lip gloss held, and how tangled their lashes would be when he got close enough. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but thats not what friends do; especially not friends who are in different stages of their lives with years between.
"'S nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head as he straightened in his seat and adjusted his jacket over the broad of his shoulders.
Just then, Tara returned with a pair of pristine white plates in her hands and her perfect smile on her face. She started with (Y/N), setting the plate of her ravioli in front of her before reaching over and tending to Harry. She did the usual spiel of asking for cracked pepper or cheese grated atop their dishes. He declined the pepper, but (Y/N) shot him a look when the cheese was offered.
"She would like some, please," he smiled, nodding to (Y/N). She shot him a smile, clearly pleased with the way she picked up in her signal.
Tara quickly rounded the table, the fancy crank grater in her hand as she recited to (Y/N) to just say when! Harry kept his eyes glued on her face, waiting for the look she would surely give him when she'd had her fill.
"That's good, thank you," Harry interrupted when (Y/N) glanced at him, her smile turning grateful at his words.
Tara politely nodded her head, standing off to the side of the table. She gave a practiced speech, asking if there was anything else that the couple needed before leaving with a promise to check on them in a few moments.
Once alone, (Y/N) trailed her gaze from the food in front of her to the man sitting across from her. "Thank you again, Harry. This has been the best date I've ever been on already."
He couldn't help but feel breath of pride puff up his chest. He nonchalantly lifted his shoulder in a half shrug with a lopsided smile on his face. "Still have the rest of the night left, sweetheart, don't speak too soon."
She rolled her eyes with her softened smile stuck on her features. She looked down at the food in front of her, absently grabbing her fork and sectioning off a bite of ravioli before speaking, "It's gonna be amazing no matter what, because I'm with you."
She spoke so simply, as if that was the answer Harry should have been expecting from the start. But, that wasn't at all something he thought would ever leave her lips. He expected a sentiment like that to come from him and the endless pining he held over her, not for her to speak them so surely and cause his heart to race and drop at the same time. Race because it fulfilled a tiny part of him that allowed him to pretend this was a real date, and drop since the rest of him knew this whole night was nothing more than a friendly distraction and held nothing more than platonic affection.
Harry was sure his cheeks were flushed a cherried hue at her words, opting to distract himself by twirling his noodles around his fork and popping the bite into his mouth. They were quiet as they began to eat, Harry running her words through his mind over and over, trying his best to untwist them from his own slew of affectionate thoughts. Every time he would flick his gaze to her, he swore he saw her look away just before he could meet her eyes.
That is until he caught her. He found her gaze locked across the table—at his food.
Her own plate was halfway finished, the cheese from the raviolis oozing into the marinara sauce around them though she didn't pay it any attention. A small smile tugged at Harry lips, recalling the way she almost switched her order to match his, his brows raised as he looked to her.
"Wanna try some?" he offered, already twirling a bite of noodles around the prongs of the fork and picking up a small cut of shrimp.
She looked to him with a bashful look on her face, eyes rounded out and cheeks soft. "Can I?" she laughed, "Sorry, it just looks really good. You can try mine if you want!"
"'S okay, love, I don't mind." He offered her his fork, intending to pass the utensil off to her.
Instead, he watched as she leaned over the table, tossing her hair over her shoulders to keep it out of the way. The glow of the candlelit center piece wafted upward to dance over her features, bathing her skin in a soft warmth. She delicately placed her fingers on his wrist, just a brush of a touch against his arm as she took the bite directly off the fork with her lips around the utensil. She drew back as she chewed, her eyes going wide before she swallowed and looked to Harry with a beaming smile on her face.
"That's so good!" she bubbled, "We're gonna have to come back and I want to get that next time!"
She wanted there to be a next time.
A smile spread across his features at the idea. "Definitely."
Harry smiled at (Y/N)'s pronunciation, sliding her the other spoon around the strawberry crostata he order for them to share for desert. "'S a kind of sweet cheese, like cream cheese but—in m'opinion—much better," Harry explained, cutting into the crust and taking the first bite of the tart.
"Oh," she answered simply, following suit and scooping up her own bite.
They were both leaning closer to one another over the table, meeting in the middle with their shared plate. The chatter of the other patrons had grown significantly quieter over the course of the meal, making it that much easier for Harry to lose himself in the idea that it was just the two of them out that night.
He had known he was fairly gone for (Y/N), but the whole night had forcibly pulled each pining thought and affectionate scenario from the corner he had shoved them. It felt like a movie to him, a cheesy romcom where he cast himself as the overworked business man and (Y/N) as the bright, kind and beautiful heroine that would color the movie and turn Harry into the lovestruck fool he knew he could play perfectly. He never wanted the night to end, even as he watched their dessert become whittled down to a single bite with a sliced strawberry dotted on the top.
"Y'have the last bite," Harry offered, using his spoon to push it towards (Y/N) who absently licked away a swipe of strawberry sauce on the full of her bottom lip.
"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes bright.
"Positive." Harry lent back in his chair, letting (Y/N) finish off the dessert as he plucked the leather book Tara had dropped at the table a few moments prior.
He slipped his card inside, and fixed his gaze back on (Y/N). Thanks to the distraction of the pout of (Y/N)'s lips, he was only absently aware of Tara ghosting by to pick up the bill with a promise to be right back!
"Is it stupid that I don't want to go home, yet?" (Y/N) questioned, sitting back in her own seat with her fingers absently tracing along the neckline of her dress.
"'S not stupid at all," he smile, shaking his head before becoming momentarily distracted as Tara returned with their processed bill and a wish for them to have a nice rest of their night. "'M not ready to end the night either, if 'm being honest," he continued, signing the receipt and adjusting his jacket before standing up, "Was thinking I could take y'to this sculpture park that's not too far a walk from here. 'S really pretty at night and I think you'd like it. Only if y'want to, though."
He rounded the table and pulled (Y/N)'s own chair out, offering her his hand after she adjusted her dress and grabbed the small yellow bag she had brought along. "I would love to," she agreed, wrapping her hand in his and shooting him a soft smile.
Harry led them out of the restaurant, politely waving and wishing a goodnight to the staff gathered at the hostess stand before holding the door open for (Y/N) to step into the star-filled night. His gaze kept flicking from their joined hands to the sidewalk in front of them, careful about the steps he took as he was aware of the heels on her feet. He felt a shudder go through his chest despite the warmth her hand provided in his, especially after she adjusted her hold to slip her fingers between his and hug their palms together.
She drew his attention to her face when she looked to him with the starlight reflected in her eyes and the moonglow dusting over her features. "Lead the way."
"What's that supposed to be?"
(Y/N) posed the question as they stood in front of a sculpture that held neither rhyme or reason. The structure boasted swirling shapes and abstract forms somewhat resembling an elephant but if Harry tilted his head the other way, he could see what looked like it could be a constellation of stars.
"'M not sure," Harry mused, a pinch in his brow as he read the small plaque that titled the piece as Farmer's Market.
"At least the lights around it look pretty," (Y/N) added, her gaze tracing the rope of lights set up around the base of the sculpture.
Harry's lips quirked into a smile as he gazed down at her. "Yeah, very pretty."
"What do you think the next one's gonna be called?" (Y/N) asked, squeezing his hand with their fingers still laced together before moving towards the next sculpture.
"Mm," Harry hummed, swinging their joined hands between them, as he continued the game (Y/N) had started a couple pieces back. "Thinks its gonna have somethin' to do with bread."
"Bread?" (Y/N) repeated, looking up at him with a confused pinch in her brow and kink in her lips.
"Mhm," he confirmed, looking towards the sculpture that looked to have nothing to do with bread.
(Y/N) took an awkward step beside him, her shoulder bumping his arm as a hiss escaped her lips. "Sorry," she apologized, slowing beside him and letting go of his hand in favor of reaching toward her heel covered foot.
"What's wrong? Are y'okay?" His voice held a current of concern, unsure of where to start though he knew he wanted to help her.
"I'm okay, my feet just hurt from my shoes and I stepped wrong," she stood straight as she spoke, carefully balancing her weight off her seemingly injured foot. "I've only worn these a couple times, and I forget every time how much they hurt." She breathed a laugh after her words reaching for Harry's hand to resume their twined position.
Harry stood still in his spot, unwilling to go any farther if she was in pain. "Do y'want to sit down for a minute?" he offered, already tugging her towards a plain white bench across from the so-called bread sculpture.
"Could we?" She shot him a relieved look and followed after his pulls on delicate steps of her feet.
He muttered an of course! to her as he pulled off his blazer and folded it before laying it on the seat of the bench, protecting her white dress from anything lingering on the surface. She thanked him before sitting on he homemade cot, her shoulders dropping from relief.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, an apologetic smile on his face as he looked to her, "Didn't even think about that when I asked if we could walk around."
"It's okay," she beamed folding one of her legs under her before facing Harry, "I just need to sit down for a little, then I'll be okay."
"Do y'want my shoes? I don't think they'll fit well, but they'll work," he offered half joking. He knew if she had actually taken him up on it he would have no qualms about finishing the night barefoot.
She laughed at his offering, already brushing it off with a shake of her head. "I'll be okay, but thank you, H. You're very sweet."
A lopsided smile tugged at his features, his gaze falling to his fingers where he twisted his rings around the digits. A slew of tender reciprocations came to mind, compliments he would hope would heat her cheeks and cause her eyes to go soft like he's daydreamed about since Charlotte's party. But, he kept quiet, heady reminders of the fact this was just a night between friends and nothing more running through his head.
Beside him, he saw (Y/N) perk up with a petite gasp leaving her lips. A bright smile colored her features as she gazed at her phone in front of her. "The lights look so pretty like this! Would you want to take a picture with me?" She leaned closer to him, her own shoulder pressed against his, showing him her screen with the front camera on.
She was right, the stream of lights decorating each sculpture and strung through the trees cast a pearlescent glow upon their faces. Shades of pink and purple with pops of a baby blue shimmered across (Y/N)'s face, where his eyes were fixed on her phone screen.
Harry was already slinging his arm over her shoulder when he responded with a smile on his face. "'Course. Jus' promise to send it to me." He tugged her closer to him with his arm around her, their thighs touching as they drew nearer.
She bubbled off a vow to text the picture to him later before positioning her phone in front of them with the camera capturing their faces. (Y/N) posed with a soft smile on her features, resting her cheek on this shoulder. Harry hoped she couldn't hear the way his heart skipped a beat at the contact as she tapped the screen and caught the moment.
She was quick to pull up the photo, adjusting her posture and removing her cheek from his shoulder. Harry's arm reluctantly dropped from around her, her warmth missing from his skin. She smiled at the image on her phone before turning it towards him.
"What do you think?" she bubbled.
Harry barely passed a glance over himself, only aware of the softened gaze he held before he fixed his attention on (Y/N)'s half of the screen. The lighting glazed over her features to cast an angelic glow across the planes of her face, highlighting the points of her features in pasteled hues. He really hoped she would remember to send it to him.
"'S perfect" he breathed, gazing at her over the edge her phone.
She quickly nodded her head in agreement, the same bright smile stuck on her features. "Would it be okay if I posted this later? On my instagram? I just really like it."
A breath of satisfaction swept through his chest, almost giddy at the thought that she wanted to show off their date, even if it was only a friendly night together.
Harry ended the night pulling up to (Y/N)'s apartment building, reluctantly putting his car in park. He wasn't sure when he would see her again, and that introduced a cloudy feeling to his chest, muggy and thick. He dreaded the uncertainty of when he would be able to allow himself to be with her like this again, or if that time would come again at all.
(Y/N) broke him from his thoughts, placing a hand on his arm from the passenger seat. She delicately wrapped her fingers around his forearm, the skin bare from rolling the sleeves of his shirt up and forgoing his jacket that now laid in the backseat. "Thank you, again, for tonight. This is the best date I've ever been on, Harry."
She looked to him with a tender gaze, her irises melted into silken pools of starlight that he swore only existed in fairytales.
"Y'promise?" he joked, watching as a smile bloomed across her lips at his teasing.
"I promise," she affirmed, squeezing his arm one more time before reaching towards the doorhandle. "I'll see you again soon, right?"
Though Harry couldn't be sure when soon was, he knew he wouldn't be able to last without seeing her for very long. "Of course. Whenever y'need me, love, I'll be there."
She dropped her gaze to the small yellow bag that laid in her lap, her softened lips still quirked in that shy smile he'd had the privilege of detailing throughout the night. She met his own eyes after a moment, looking to him expectantly. "Walk me up?"
Harry didn't even hesitate before he agreed, already stepping out of the driver's side door. He rushed around the front of the car, just barely beating (Y/N) before she opened the door and stepped out.
"Gotta wait for me. Still on our date, right," he teasingly chastised, offering her his hand just as he had all night long. He wanted to get one last moment with her fingers laced between his, hoping the walk up to her apartment was long enough that he could memorize the feeling.
The ascent up the stairs was a moment of dejavu, Harry felt. The steps familiar in the sense that his heart was running a racetrack through his chest, but this time he was anchored to the moment with more than a bouquet of flowers as a buoy. (Y/N)'s hand in his and the matching pacing of her heel-clad steps kept him grounded in the fact he was still with her, no matter if the moments with that comfort was waning.
"I'll be looking forward to that invitation to go to that restaurant again," (Y/N) mused, leaning against her front door as Harry stopped in front of her.
He kept his hands deep in his pockets, refraining from wrapping them around her waist and keeping her warm against his chest. "Y'let me know when you're free, and I'll set up the reservations."
A beat of silence passed between them, as (Y/N) lowered her gaze towards the floor with her fingers nervously picking at the satin tie around her waist. "We're still on our date, right?"
A smile poked at Harry's cheeks, "Yeah, I'd sa—"
(Y/N) cut him off by taking a bold step in his direction and placing her hands on her chest. She leaned up as far as she could with the help of her heels before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek (more like his jaw, but she reached as far as she could). Harry was hyperaware of how close she was to his lips, the leftover gloss on her mouth leaving a slight pink kiss mark printed on his skin.
"Goodnight, Harry," she mumbled after pulling away, glancing at him from over her shoulder as she let herself in her apartment.
Harry was left with a whiff of her scent as she closed the door behind her, her kiss sitting on his cheek with a blushing warmth radiating from the spot. He hadn't even realized he had fluttered his eyes closed until he blinked them open to find himself still in the spot she left him in.
He practically floated down to his car, forgetting each step he took as soon as he made it. The drive home was a matching blur, each turn and brake tinted with rose petals. It wasn't until he had just got home and had made it to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed (and stare at the kiss mark against his skin), that he was pulled out of his stupor by the buzz of his phone.
He reached for the device after unbuttoning his shirt, his chest bare as he swiped on the notification. His screen brightened with a familiar photo posted on Instagram, the notification coming from the tag that hovering above a perfect ringlet in his hair.
The photo taken in the sculpture park now held a caption at the bottom.
best date with my best friend. thank u, h. 🌼
He was gonna need to set up that next reservation soon.
prosecco is a sparkling wine, vibrant and sweet, boasting notes of crisp apple and honeysuckle. peach notes linger long after finished.
ahhh!!! this is the series that was supposed to be a one shot!! I started writing this almost a year ago and pictured it finishing off at 10k and now its just gotten too long w too much story to fit in one thing but !!!! I really hope u all like it and thank u so much for reading!! you can find the completed piece with all following parts already up on my patreon or I will be posting every Friday!! thank u for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if u have any ideas or anything please send them in!!!!
so uhhh… that picture really killed us all, huh? and how could i possibly resist writing something about it? enjoy!!!
as always, please reblog / leave feedback 😈
word count: 1.2k
warnings: pure filth oops
"Ride my face."
It's not an unusual request from him, but right before he's about to go on stage? Really?
"I'm not going to do that while you're in an ice bath, Harry," you respond, crossing your arms as you stand next to the metal tub he's sat in.
"Fine, be a brat," he mutters under his breath as he tilts his head back and clenches his teeth from the arctic temperature engulfing his body.
"What's with the attitude?" you ask with a grin.
He sputters his lips. "Just want you to ride my face, is that such a crime? Can't be standing there in that bloody dress and expect me not to say anything."
"No," you deadpan.
Then Harry gives you that look, gazing up at you with innocent puppy dog eyes that hold an underlying glint of absolute filth.
"Please?" he whispers with a slight pout.
You shake your head and yawn from the dim lighting.
"Can you at least sit on it for a bit?" he further pleads.
"You're going to give yourself hypothermia," you deflect, ignoring his begging because it's slowly working much to your disadvantage.
"Baby," he whines with desperation. "I'll do whatever you want, I swear. Gimme some love before I go out there."
You sigh. "Why do you need me to do it so bad?"
"Because," he impatiently starts, exhaling sharply when he shifts in the icy water, "I'm fuckin' freezing right now and your warm pussy on my face sounds like heaven."
"Jesus," you scoff at his dirty remark.
"Hey," he softly calls, reaching out to grab your hand. "For me? Please? Don't you think I deserve a reward for selling out two nights in Chicago?"
"You are such a narcissist, it's ridiculous."
"Come sit on this narcissist's face, then."
He's supposed to be on stage in approximately twenty minutes and he seems to be firmly standing his ground in terms of his sexual desires. Riding his face in a grimy venue bathroom while he takes an ice bath was never on your bucket list, contrary to popular belief.
Nonetheless, you give in from a single look at his submissive expression.
"Fine," you huff, "but if you even think about doing something funny like pulling me in, I'm leaving."
Harry smirks and runs his tongue along his front teeth. "I'm always nice to you, why would I do that?"
You roll your eyes. "How are we even going to do this?" you think aloud, eyeing the tub that's too wide for you to completely spread your legs over.
"Easy," he replies with a shrug.
You watch him tilt his head back against the edge of the tub and curl his fingers to beckon you closer, a couple strands of wet hair falling over his eyes. You walk over and position yourself behind him so his face is now upside down to you.
"Now what?" you ask while hiking your dress up.
Harry jerks his chin towards you. "Take a seat, darling."
So you do, moving one leg over the tub and resting your heel on his exposed chest. He immediately hooks his arm under your knee and securely grips your thigh as you hover your core over his face.
He muffles a moan in his throat when you slide your underwear to the side and let him soak up your already dripping pussy. His hand flexes and tightens around your trembling thigh as he instantly licks a long stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit. The noises he's making are sinful and dirty, low growls and wet sucks that leave you clenching with weak knees.
"So fuckin' filthy for me," Harry mumbles into your inner thigh, planting sloppy and sticky kisses there.
You pitifully moan, the sound echoing in the bathroom like it's mocking you. Harry's nose nudges your clit as he continues licking and leaving little nips to every sensitive part of your flaming skin.
"God, H-Harry," you stammer breathlessly, grinding along his swollen and damp mouth that you can feel smirk slightly when you say his name.
"Gonna cum on my face?" Harry says, his hot breath sending tingling waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. "Leave a goddamn mess all over me before I go on stage for everyone to see?"
You nod feverishly and quickly feel your orgasm come undone in the pit of your stomach, the pulsing of your pussy becoming so much that you have to place one of your hands on the wall next to you.
His hand that grips your thigh shakes and scratches along your skin from the overwhelming pleasure he's receiving. The water in the tub sloshes a little each time he shifts and you wonder how he's able to focus on anything else but the numbing temperature in which he sits.
When his tongue hits a particularly deep spot, you choke out a whimper and take hold of his flexing jaw as he brings you to your climax with a hungry desire. He's persistent, never stopping for air a single time.
"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna- Harry, I have to cum," you pant out, curling your hand into a fist.
Harry nods understandingly and jerks his hips up in the water. "I've got you, baby. Cum right on my face like a good girl. My good girl."
His praising words do it for you, the tight knot unraveling as you cum above Harry's mouth, his lips parted while he lets out soft, raspy moans.
"Attagirl," he coos, sliding his hand down to gently squeeze your ankle that's still placed on his heaving chest.
Once you finish, you step back from him because of your sensitivity and shakily kneel on the ground next to the tub. Harry sets his hands on the back of his head and breathes heavily, his nose and cupid's bow covered in your arousal. His lips are a darker shade of pink as he licks around his mouth to taste what he asked for.
"Fuck you," you exhale with a laugh.
"What?" he scratchily asks as his head whips towards yours.
You push his forehead back like a child and wipe the sweat from his hairline. "Fuck you for making me do that in this disgusting bathroom."
Harry cackles and clumsily brings your head to rest on his shoulder. "You know what's funny? We could've definitely done that somewhere else."
"Yeah, no shit."
He kisses your temple and stands up, the water cascading off his chest and down to his boxers. "Anyways, I've got a show to do, so I'll see you later. This was fun, we should do it again sometime."
You playfully roll your eyes at his teasing and stand up, too. He gets out of the tub and cutely shuffles over to you, cradling your cheeks and giving you a loud, dramatic kiss on the lips.
"Love you," he whispers. "You'll watch me from the crowd tonight, right?"
"Of course," you reply with soft eyes. "Then we can crash on the tour bus after."
"Mm, you read my mind. Wanna help me get dressed?"
hey bestie could you do one where harry finds out that y/n has pussy slapping kink and he spends the whole night experimenting that with her and harry makes her cum just from that and spanking. make it hurt please ? mean dismissive Dom harry
Warnings: Professor!Harry AU. Husband! Harry. Mean mean dom. Harry with glasses. Dirty talk. Spanking(paddles). Pain kink. Rope ties. Humiliation. Degradation. Just the usual stuff with some masochism as icing.
A/n: Did someone say super mean professor? Here he is, all for you.
Fic library is @chaashnifics
"Aww baby, does tha' hurt?" He chuckled menacingly over you, ring covered hands curling around your abused nipples. Your pussy stung from where he was striking the perforated paddle over it, your body body not having much option over squirming and struggling.
"I'm asking yeh somethin'" Harry's voice darkened a sliver, the smoothness of his words contrasted by the brashness and rigour with which he tweaked your nipple again, your back arching as his mouth landed on the other pebbled lobe, biting and pulling and leaving you a whimpering mess. "Answer me."
Another strike of the paddle had you arching your back up, the ropes curled around your hands which had been tightly stretched backwards across the table leaving you gasping. Lines of drool spilled out of the ball gag thrust into your mouth, your eyes glazed in a tryst of euphoria and pain and pure, unadulterated need.
"Or is just tha' a little pain," your husband chuckled, grabbing your exposed tits harshly and nudging your legs further apart. He had tied each individual thigh to your calf, your upper body arched across the very table where he been grading his students, arms pulled back and a cord running through your hair to keep your neck bared for him. Totally exposed. The full length mirror in front of you didn't help, watching your juices run down and bidy brusing from his rainfall of bites and marks and strikes leaving you in a helplessly aroused state, one which you could do nothing to change.
You couldn't even beg. The little shit had gagged you.
"I've observed," He starts, and even in your foggy minded state you wonder if this man ever loses his cool. "The more I strike you, here." He traces a finger through your folds, barely touching, leaving you whining and drooling. "The more you squirm. The more you ruin my carpets."
The vibrator he was using on you remained thrown uselessly to the side, the dildo he had brought for you to ride untouched in the corner.
"You're such a fucking painslut," Harry grabbed your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks. He pulled the gag down, eyes glinting as he watching you heave and pant before he was clutching your face again, painted nails digging into your cheek.
"You're so, so wet." He traced a line from your boobs to your navel, the action surprisingly gentle in contrast to everything he had subjected you to tonight. "Tell me, does this make you feel used?"
You nodded, trying to hump on his boot. His glasses remained perched on his nose, and in the reflection from around his study you could see all the books he had tossed to the side when he bent you over his table.
The spit flying from his clenched lips crashed on your tongue right in coordination wit the paddle striking your pussy, your mind going dumb at the beautiful intoxication he had lured you into, from the pain and the pleasure.
"My little kitten, you're squirming like you're in heat." Slap. You moaned, the tied tugging at your hair when you tried to chase his lips. The roped dug into your arm, burning deliciously as you tried to open yourself even more. Slap. Slap. Slap.
The louder you cried, the harder the slaps went, tears running all over your face and you were ashamed that the sight of your disheveled face in the mirror turned you on so much. Slap.
"Look at me." Slap. "You fucking stop lookin' at me. I stop." Your husband threatened, and you knew he would do it.
"You get off on this pain, don't ya?" Slap.
"Don't even think of lying."
He was right. You wouldn't dare. Slap.
You hated that he knew you so fucking well. Slap.
You squirmed and mewled, so close to cumming, your pussy dripping,your juices falling to the floor with each strike. Slap.
"Then you're gonna fucking cum." Harry gritted, grabbing your face and keeping your eyes on him. Slap. "Only by this." Slap. "Like the fucking painslut you are." Slap.
"Cum for me."
And ofcourse, who were you to not listen to him? You did.
It’s None of Your Business — Harry loves to tease the audience at his shows, so it’s no surprise that’s what happens when he has some big news to share.
Secret Little Rendezvous — He was a popstar, you were a music reporter, could I make it any more obvious?
Hometown Shows Part 1 — A blast from the past at Love on Tour, Chicago Night 1.
Hometown Shows Part 2 — Your family comes to the show, and Harry has a surprise for you.
Merch Girl — Flirting, jealousy, and M&Ms.
Snow Bunny — Teaching Harry to ski in St. Moritz.
Causing Trouble up in Hotel Rooms — Opening for One Direction’s Take Me Home Tour, you get close to Harry and he tries to tell you how he feels.
Fine Line Series
The moments in your relationship with Harry that inspired each song on Fine Line. New chapter every Thursday!
1.5. She Instagram Blurb
2. Treat People With Kindness
2.5. TPWK Instagram Blurb
3.5 Sunflower Instagram Blurb
4. Canyon Moon
4.5. Canyon Moon Instagram Blurb
5. To Be So Lonely
5.5. To Be So Lonely Instagram Blurb
6.5. Golden Instagram Blurb
7. Fine Line
7.5. Fine Line Instagram Blurb
8.5 Cherry Instagram Blurb
9.5. Falling Instagram Blurb
10. Adore You
10.5 Adore You Instagram Blurb
11. Watermelon Sugar
11.5 Watermelon Sugar Instagram Blurb
Painted Nails — Or, the history behind Harry Styles’ nail polish obsession.
from strangers to friends, friends into lovers..
first part in the Oh, What A World universe ✨ i hope you love this piece just as much as i do! any feedback or comments would be greatly appreciated, along with a reblog to share it <3
word count: 1.3k | Oh, What A World masterlist
He liked to think he was a good judge of someone’s character. With so many years working in the industry and meeting a number of people, he’s been able to see through them and their intentions as soon as they meet. There were people who took advantage of him and his name when he was younger and even now, so he was careful with who he let into his life.
With you, it was much more simpler than that.
Harry met you through a friend of a friend (of a friend), but knew he wanted you around for a long time. You treated him as if you had been friends for longer, always seeming to put him at ease. He wanted to be around you all the time. From the second you woke up to when you laid your body to rest at night, he wanted to be there with you. When he was busy in the studio writing and recording, he was wondering what you were doing. When he sat a table with his closest friends for a meal, you were always the person he really wanted to be there too.
Already being a naturally affectionate person, his gentle touches and soft glances across the room were not minimized for you. If anything, he had to keep his hands away whenever you were around. He wanted to be the one to constantly shower you in love and more.
Eventually, he grew tired of the constant pestering from your mutual friends. He always threw out an excuse of the possibility of you not reciprocating his feelings, or being too busy to focus on a relationship. But he was done playing games and leaving both of you with no answers. He was too old to be straddling the fine line between friends and something more. He thought you deserved to know how he felt even if you didn’t feel the same way.
You didn’t make it easier for him, though. Sure, you welcomed all of his efforts of affection and gave in maybe once or twice, letting yourself pretend that you two were something more. But when that was over you retreated back to what you were best, as a friend, only because the possibility of becoming something more seemed too good to be true.
Still, you both tried to play it cool. He was home for an indefinite amount of time after being on tour. After spending time with his friends and family and catching up on lost time, he always reserved the rest of his time for you with numerous drop bys at your place or invites to his. Nothing beat being alone with each other.
“I should head out,” you stretched your arms. You were tucked comfortably next to him before you were reminded of the long day of work waiting for you tomorrow.
Meanwhile, Harry was going through just about every emotion when he realized it was time to confess his love for you. He was worried he was going to scare you off and ruin whatever you had. It was the classic game of friends to lovers, except he didn’t think he would make it if he didn’t have you in his life. He couldn’t handle the heartbreak.
You put all of your attention on getting the correct foot in each shoe before you realized how just how quiet Harry was being. He sat perched on the corner of his coffee table, fingers playing with each of his rings out of nervousness. He kept his eyes on the ground, thinking about whatever it was that was obviously eating at him.
His head lifted up at the sound of your voice, eyes filled with uncertainty. He merely shook his head and stood up to hold a hand out for you. “C’mere.”
You let him bring you closer like he always did, your head underneath his chin as he buried his nose into your hair. You were used to the affection, the long embraces and the fluttering kisses on the forehead. But they held a different weight this time, one that you had personally carried for a long, long time. He squeezed you closer as if it was possible, like he was about to lose you.
“H.. what’s wrong?”
You could feel his heart pounding in his chest before he pulled away just enough to look down at you. His furrowed eyebrows worried you as his fingers petted your hair back, fingers curling in to hold you in place.
“You know I care about you, yeah?”
You nodded. “I do.”
“I don’t think you do,” he shook his head in retaliation. “I love you.”
You tried to blink away your tears but you were way past that, on the way to fully crying because you couldn’t believe his words. You could tell this wasn’t just a friendly confession, but it held something more.
He moved his hands to caress your cheekbones, raising your face up towards him. “I have for a long time. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
It was your turn to shake your head. “I love you, too.”
His eyes scanned over your face as if he was trying to memorize all of your features, eventually lingering on your lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
You didn’t bother answering and met him halfway on the tips of your toes. Your knees buckled at the soft sigh he let out against your lips, like he’d been waiting for so long. Craving your touch and your lips just as much as you were. Your arms reached up to wrap around the top of his shoulders as his dropped down to your waist, hands squeezing your sides. Without disconnecting he moved you towards the front door and pinned you against it, leaning all of his weight onto your body to be closer. You welcomed his hands exploring your body once again before they eventually stayed put against your lower back.
His head dipped down to start placing kisses on your neck, making you gasp. The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair made him hum contently in return. The contrast of his soft, slow pink lips but needy, desperate hands made your head spin. He had you right where he wanted.
He pulled away, nudging his nose playfully against the side of yours so he could hear your laugh. After he got what he wanted his lips returned to yours.
“Let me take you out, please.” He mouthed against you. “Do this right.” Then started trailing kisses along your jawline.
You giggled at the ticklish feeling, humming once you felt him playfully nip at your ear waiting for a reply. “Mmm, can’t get enough of me, can you?”
“Absolutely not. Never going to, really.”
Harry bit his bottom lip in thought, weighing his options. Seeming to want the same thing as you, he leaned in for more and waited for your mouth to open and let him in. You keened at the soft scratching of his facial hair against your skin, all those times you teased him about needing a shave working in your favor this time.
He didn’t want to stop, but he knew he needed to. You needed to go home, far away from him so he could have the excuse to see you again and do much more than what he wanted right now.
After reluctantly pulling away, he ducked down to place one more kiss on your lips. He smiled cheekily knowing he caught you by surprise and decided a few more wouldn’t hurt. He was obsessed with you.
“Drive safe, ok? Let me know when you’re home.”
You were dizzy from his touch and kisses but you nodded anyway, looking up from under your eyelashes. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.
please let me know what you think!
taglist: @evanjh <3
Enticing 10 (HS)
Summary: Harry Styles is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son, Oliver Styles. It isn’t until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry’s girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver’s mother? Where is she? Who is she?
Author's note: HELLO EVERYONE! It feels nice to be back! I took a much-needed break from everything and everyone. I hope you are all doing well. Not only that, but I am sorry to have kept you waiting! Hope you enjoy! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO! LET ME KNOW!
Word count: 5.3K
warnings: sex, talk about mental and physical abuse
Tags: @brockdolan, @cuddlingwithharry, @virgorry, @hazzaficrecs, @twpkhes, @havinaballinthisbitch, @jackiehollanderr, @n0t-autumn , @laurynne5, @sabnstyles, @harrystyle-ish, @stressisakiller, @elenagilbert01, @tpwkhoney, @savannah-elliott, @ericadrumgoole1, @chubbybunnybenny, @eldahae, @nanskidoodle, @fallingforharry-1, @odetostep, @mellowfellowyellow, @summerstylesxplr, @harrysxoxoxo, @sunflowervol14, @hazzaficrecs, @lilostif16, @laurasophiiiieee, @michelleficrecs, @hsfics
Her fingers didn't do enough damage as his did. Her hands were too small but they were enough to have her moaning. Harry stood back and silently watched her. He reached down and untied his swimming trunks as he watched the woman that he had become addicted to, pleasure herself. It was a sight that he would never forget. The memory would remain permanently engraved in his mind. He couldn't see her face, but he could bet that her cheeks are red from pleasure and embarrassment.
“Enough,” He demanded as he gave himself a few tugs. He wasn't in the mood for any type of foreplay. He was desperate to feel her clench herself around him. Y/N's hand retrieved back to her side just in time to feel his warm hands on her cold ass. “Fuck! You are cold” He gasped as he felt water running down his torso. Y/N giggled.
Harry's big hands caressed and squeezed her round behind before giving it one last slap. “How are you so perfect?” He asked as he reached down and gathered her wet hair in one hand. Harry gently tugged her hair, urging her to raise her torso and turn towards him. He forced his lips on hers and gave her a sloppy kiss before pushing her back — face down. “This is going to be fast and hard, babe,” He warned her as he aligned herself with her entrance. “Either way, we don’t have enough time”
“O-okay” Y/N managed to say before he thrust himself into her. The couple was instantly driven into divine bliss. They had missed each other so much. It was always beyond intercourse. For Harry, it’s wasn't only the immense pleasure he felt, but it’s the way she unfolded and relaxed before him. Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against her cheek. He took a few seconds for her to adjust to his size, and so he could get used to her warmth and the immense pleasure and tightness he felt.
His hands gripped her hips tightly for support before he began thrusting into her. She didn't have to look back to know that Harry's grip was probably going to leave marks on her hips.
“Fuck H” She exhaled as she felt his hips come crashing against her ass. Their skin slapped together as they both groaned and moaned from the bare sensation. “You are so good to me”. She had almost forgotten how perfect he was for her.
“Christ lovie” He exhaled as he felt her clench around him. “Do that again” Harry slapped her ass as he continues to fucked her. Y/N complied sending him almost to the edge. “Fuck that’s good” he grunted as his hips come in contact with hers. He reached down and played with her, adding more pleasure, enough to make her moans get louder.
“Harry” She gasped as she gripped his wrist trying to stop him from making her cum so quickly. “Holy shit” she moaned into the comforter. Harry smiled to himself loving the sound of her moans. “I think I am about to —. Can I?” She felt embarrassed that she hadn't lasted, but the pleasure was too intense to ignore.
“Cum? Already?” He managed to say as he found the right rhythm for both to get off. “I don’t think you deserve it” He slapped her skin again. “No cumming before I do” Y/N gasped as he continued moving within her. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, pissed and frustrated at him.
“Why not? Please” She cried as she felt the knot of her lower stomach grow with every thrust. His rhythm didn't stop, he didn't slow down for a second, instead, he pushed further.
“You made me wait. So, you’ll wait until I cum” He grunted. “It’s only fair, baby” He hissed as his breathing got heavier.
“I can’t hold it” Harry abruptly stopped making her almost burst into tears. “Harry!” She wined. He chuckled through his heavy breathing. Just as she was going to turn around and have a word with him, he slammed into her without any mercy.
“Do it” He hissed as he felt himself getting closer to his high. His hand reached down and played with her most sensitive area. Her mouth fell open as she felt herself explode with warmth. Harry leaned into her as he came undone from her clenching. His head laid on her lower back as they both rode out their orgasms after their quickie.
He threw his body beside her, exhausted, but content with the outcome. Harry placed his arms under his head as he tried to unwind and control his heavy breathing. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the after-sex bliss that she always brought him. After a few minutes of complete silence, he turned his head in her direction. She remained facedown, but with her legs stretched out. Her eyes were closed, her left cheek squeezed against the comforter and her lips slightly parted.
He stared at her — at the way her skin glowed by the rays of the sun that filtered through the small window. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder and to her side. He had no doubt that God himself carved the curves and dips of her body. God certainly had a favorite and that was her. Y/N was his gift to man. She was absolutely flawless. He felt truly lucky. A feeling surged within him. It was something he couldn't even begin to describe. He just knew that he was in big trouble because he would never be able to let go of the woman before him. She was everything and more than he had ever wanted in a woman.
Sadness overwhelmed him as he thought about his upcoming week and without thinking it twice, he blurted it out.
“Will you come to Italy with me, next week?”
They laid in the pure intimacy of their bedroom after their lovemaking session. He had just asked her to travel with him to a country that she had always dreamt of visiting. She was a bit surprised by his sudden proposal. He had gone on business trips alone before. So, what had changed? She pondered.
“I don’t even own a passport.” Harry groaned as he raised to his feet. He faced Y/N from the end of the bed before bending down and reaching down for his phone. He began tapping on his phone, clearly texting someone else.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll fix that for you” Harry had enough connections to be able to get her a passport before they arrived back in the city. He was still pretty surprised that Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to see the world. That single fact instantly made the trip more important to him. He was going to be able to show her the world.
“What about Oliver? Is he coming with us? Who is going to take care of him?” She sat up in bed and began readjusting her top and tying the bottoms that Harry had undone.
“He is staying in New York. He is still too young. I’ll get a babysitter” Y/N perked up at the mention of the babysitter.
“He already has me, Harry. It’s my job to take care of him. That’s what you are paying me for” Y/N got off the bed in search of a mirror to fix her crazy hair.
“That’s something I need to talk to you about” Harry had given it a lot of thought. Ever since he first asked her to be his. He didn't want her to keep working for him anymore. It all felt wrong. “Although we’ll talk about that when we get home” He dismissed, not sure how that particular conversation was going to go. He felt they should be in the privacy and coziness of the penthouse before he dropped the bomb on her. “Oliver is not coming lovie”.
“I just said no” His voice was rougher like the one she usually hears him use when speaking to his employees. “Period. Oliver is staying and that’s final” She bit her own tongue, stopping her own fingers from continuing to go through her hair. She could see him through the bathroom mirror. He was frowning as he finished tying his swimming trunks.
“Fine” She snapped back as she tried her best not to feel offended by his sharp and demanding tone. “When are we leaving?” She exhaled as she turned to face him, leaning against the bathroom counter. Harry's frown softens and his demeanor instantly changed. The dark cloud over his head seems to evaporate in seconds.
“A week from today” He hated using that tone on her, but his temper ran short when people defied him. He still felt shitty because he knew that she only meant well. “Come here” Harry reached out. She cautiously walked up to him. His hands made their way around her waist before he nudges the side of her head with his forehead. He puckered his lips asking for a kiss. She can’t stop the smile from spreading at his soft gesture. She gently gave him a chaste kiss. “Let’s go upstairs. My mom is probably waiting for us”.
The rest of Style's clan were waiting for them. The food had been served on the big table on the sun deck. All types of meats including lamb and a bunch of sides had been placed on the table. Y/N gripped his hand tightly as they approached the table, she couldn't help feeling like everyone knew what they were doing.
“There you are! I almost went looking for you” Mrs. Styles called out, “Please sit and enjoy” Harry pulled Y/N’s seat out for her before taking a seat beside her. They quietly started serving themselves meanwhile Y/N tried to ignore Mr. Style's hard stare.
“Is there something you would like to share, father?” His stare doesn’t go unnoticed by his oldest. Mr. Styles looked over at Harry with pursing lips.
“I don’t think the dining table is the place to have this conversation son. It’s best if we leave it for later” Harry raised an eyebrow at him as he tried to figure out what he was referring to.
“Then I suggest you stop starring at my girlfriend and making her uncomfortable” Y/N’s eyes widen as she turned o look at Harry, wanting to smack him for his bluntness. If she wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, she certainly was now. The entire table is completely quiet. It was a staring contest between the men of the family aside from Nathaniel, who seemed too invested in his food to participate.
“Forgive me, Y/N. I didn’t mean to be rude” Mr. Styles tears his eyes away from his son's eyes that looked so much like his mother’s. He was apologizing, but Y/N could see that he didn't mean a single word.
“There is no need, Mr. Styles. It’s no big deal” Y/N faked a smile at him before staring down at her food. Mrs.Styles exhaled loudly as she tried her best to thinking of something quickly to break the awkward tension.
“Snorkeling or tubbing next, Y/N?” It was Allison who finally interjected as she reached out for the giant bowl of cold pasta salad.
“Tubbing? On what?” Y/N giggled; thankful to have Allison around.
“On a hot dog or burger. It’s your choice” Harry's younger sister knew how uncomfortable her brother and father could make guests feel. Allison was reliving the same situation that she had endured when she had brought Nate home. Her father had treated him like shit. It hadn't been until Allison put her foot down and Harry almost threw himself on his father that he stopped his snarling and condescending comments towards Nate. Either way, he still treated him unkindly at times.
Allison knew that it’s worthless to stay mad at her father. He had always been that way. They had all tried to change him, but they hadn't had much success. Allison just couldn't understand why her mother never said anything and allowed their father to walk all over them.
“Hot dog sounds fun” Y/N smiled as she looked back down at her food. The altercation had honestly ruined her appetite. Harry had no problem eating. He looked unbothered by it, but in reality, he was fuming from inside. He is beyond pissed. Not only that, but he just couldn't wait until everyone left and he could have a moment alone with his father. Mr. Styles was going to get a piece of his mind whether he liked it or not.
Allison and Nate were the first to excuse themselves after coffee and dessert. Mrs. Styles rose to her feet and looks over at Y/N who seemed uncomfortable.
“Let’s go honey” She stretched out her hand for her to take. Just as Y/N pushed her seat away from the table, Mr. Style's hand smacked against the table. All the plates, silverware, and porcelain shook; startling the women.
“You leave,” Mr. Styles said as he looked at his wife. “This has nothing to do with you”.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Styles asked back with her hands on her hips.
“I told you to leave. Don’t make me ask you again because it won’t be nice” He snapped at her, causing her demeanor to instantly change. That tone was too familiar to her and hearing it only brought dark memories. Horrible memories — enough to make her feel scared and remain quiet.
“Do not talk to my mum like that” It’s Harry's turn to snap at him. He couldn't sit back and watch how his father verbally abused his mother. He wasn't hitting her, but he knew that his words had the same effect. His words sometimes hurt her more than his fists.
“She is my wife! I can talk to her however I please!” Mr. Styles responded. Not one bit faced by his son’s harsh tone.
“Honey, just listen to your father. I am fine” She felt like a fool for believing her husband’s promise. He had promised her that he wouldn’t cause a conflict during the kid's stay.
“Go with my mum, babe” Harry can change the tone of his voice for her as he saw his girlfriend’s concerned expression. Y/N quickly stood up to comply with his demand.
“NO! This concerns her, therefore she should be here” Mr. Styles explained making both women shake. Y/N stopped moving as Mrs.Styles continued walking out as she gave her a reassuring nod.
“I just told you to leave, Y/N” Harry's protecting side arising. He didn't want her around just in case it got uglier.
“It’s okay” Y/N knew that his father wouldn't back out and whatever he had to say she could take it. She wasn't going to hide behind Harry. She was a strong, independent woman that could take the ignorant opinions of an abusing man, especially with her boyfriend by her side —at least that was what she thought. Harry pursed his lips and looked back at his father.
“It’s funny how your girlfriend has more balls than you, son” Mr.Styles sarcastically chuckled as he looked over at Y/N. “I am surprised, Ms. Y/L/N. I didn’t think you had it in you”.
“You don’t know many things about me, Mr. Styles. You would be astounded to know that I am not like other women,” She snapped back as tried her best not to feel intimidated.
“That is certainly true. I was surprised to find out that you aren’t who you say you are, Ms. Y/LN. Did you know that, son?” He asked as he looked over at his oldest. “You have no idea who you are sleeping with”. Harry chuckled, but continued to listen to his preposterous statements. “Is Y/N even your real name?”.
“It is Mr. Styles, and I’ve been nothing, but honest with your son. Therefore, I would love to hear an apology coming from you,” She kindly smiled at him.
“She is a fucking nanny, Harry!” He snapped. Y/N calm demeanor was easily getting under his skin. “She doesn’t work for Alessandro. Is all bullshit. She is probably some gold digger” He looked at her with disgust.
That was enough for Harry.
“Don’t you fucking dare to talk about her like that!” Mr. Styles smirked pleased with the reaction has he had just gotten out of him. “I am well aware that she is a nanny, father” Harry chuckled as he crossed his fingers with one another, entertained by the show that his father had just put on.
“She doesn’t even come from a proper family. How do you think the media will react when they find out that she is nothing, but your son’s nanny?!” He spat, feeling offended that his son had brought someone like her near him.
“I took her to the gala, father. They already know. We were seen by hundredths and a bunch of pictures were taken,” Harry rolled his eyes before rising to his feet. “Instead of making a big altercation of this, you could have just asked me about it and I would’ve told you. I am not hiding her”. Harry took Y/N's hand, ready to leave.
“Her father is dead, Harry and God only knows who and where her mother is!” Mr. Styles said just before they could leave the room. The small comment was enough for Y/N to let Harry's hand go and turn back.
“You have no right to talk about my father, Mr. Styles. Let alone about my mother or anything that concerns my family. You might have all the money that anyone could dream of, but not everything can be resolved with money. I find your hypocrisy very astounding. After all, you are an abuser. Shame on you for judging and blaming my deceased father. Instead of focusing on where I come from and who my family is, you should be trying to gain your family's trust again and thanking them for enduring all the pain that you inflicted on them. “ His snarly comment about her father had been enough to set her up in flames. No one would ever mess up his memory, especially when she was around. She loved her father and all she had left of him was the fun-loving memories of him, and she wasn't going to allow anyone to ruin it.
Y/N released his hand, and gave Harry a quick glance as she walked past him in search of some peace and quietness.
She sat on the edge of the back of the boat. Her legs were submerged in the surprisingly warm water. The events that had taken place in the last half hour kept replaying in her mind. She kept thinking about the conversation and still couldn't understand how it had taken such an appalling turn. Y/N knew she couldn't turn back time, and she couldn't take back her words, but she still wished she could.
He appeared from the corner of her eye and settled beside her. He was quiet and felt a bit distant. She knew that she shouldn’t be feeling guilty for using her voice and demanding respect from his father. However, the last thing she wanted was to lose Harry because of it.
Either way, her eyes remained glued to the horizon where the ocean met the sky. None of them uttered a word — each deep in thought. Both wondered how to approach the subject and ease up the tension that only continued to grow with every passing second.
“When did you find out?” He was the first to break the silence. His past was something he had always managed to keep hidden. In fact, Harry Styles had never spoken to anyone besides his family and his psychiatrist about the abuse that he had endured.
“Your mom — earlier today” immediately she regretted throwing Mrs. Styles under the bus. Y/N hoped that this wouldn’t create another conflict and cause a bigger tear in the family.
Harry was rather surprised that his mother had shared such an intimate memory. After all, the Styles clan have always seemed perfect before the eyes of the outside spectators. They are glamorous, elegant, and regal. All four members seemed cut with the same perfect mold. When in reality, each of the members faced their struggles and demons every day.
” Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N knew that Harry hadn't confided on her because there were still issues revolving it that he had to resolve. She only wished that his trust in her grew. Harry sighed as he sat beside her, dipping his feet in the water too. Y/N shrugged as she thought about how to frame her answer and not come off as an asshole.
“I kept it to myself because you had no intention of sharing it with me. I wanted it to come out of your mouth because you wanted to. Not because I cornered you or pushed you to it”.
“My past is something I keep to myself, Y/N. I don’t like sharing about it” .
“You don’t like sharing anything” Harry turned his head towards her; facing her for the first time since the altercation with his father. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be kicking him when he was down, but it was the truth. For the relationship to work, she had to share what she was thinking and feeling.
“That’s simply not the truth. I’ve told you more things than I have told anyone” There it was — the indistinguishable stern and demanding tone that Harry was known for.
“Harry, you hadn’t told me about Oliver's biological mother. If it wouldn't been because she appeared, you wouldn’t have shared! And that is one of a few things that you have slipped under the rug!” He exhaled loudly, releasing a deep breath that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding.
He abstained from running his fingers through his hair in frustration. It was her eyes again. Those soft, gentle eyes always managed to pull on his heartstrings. Y/N’s eyes could make him do the unimaginable. She could move mountains within him with a simple look.
“Do you want to know all the gory details?”
“Not unless you want to, Harry”
“One day I will tell you everything. Just not know” She didn't push any further. She could see that he wasn't prepared, and she couldn't blame him. After all, who liked to revisit the moments; when the person that was supposed to love you the most — hurt you the most?
They remained still in the comfortable silence for a few seconds. He had even managed to feel closer to her or anyone. Harry felt he might like her more than he did in the morning. By the mere fact that she hasn't pushed him to reveal his darkest memories like most had attempted in the past.
“She was a one-night stand. I’ve had a shitty day at work and I went to my favorite bar for a few drinks” He shrugged, “You know to take the edge off, and she was there that night. Harry leaned back on his hands as he tried his best to remember the few pools of soberness he had throughout the night. “She was sweet, nice, and didn’t seem that interested in the watch, suit, or credit card I used. So I bought her a few drinks”.
Y/N knew it was the past, but she couldn't help feeling jealous. And she knew it was all very silly.
“We end up having sex. By the morning, she was gone. I didn’t hear from her until she was two months into her pregnancy. At first, I genuinely thought she wanted to make things work, and I was hopeful that our relationship could work. I was so naive that at some point I thought that we could raise Oliver together like a family,” Harry shook his head, erasing the ridiculous thought. “I was oblivious to the fact that Forbes magazine had published their monthly issue with me on the front cover, interviewing me about how I had become one of the twenty youngest billionaires in the world. The magazine had magically ended on Ashley’s hands, and that’s when she came up with the plan”.
Y/N pursed her lips, already knowing where the story was heading. Her hips had turned to his direction, and she had leaned closer to him. She was intrigued, but also missed his gentle touch.
“Anyway, she threatened me with aborting Oliver and asked for a ridiculous sum of money. I complied and wire transferred half of the money and made her sign a contract. She agreed to give me full custody of Oliver once he was born. In return, I would give her the rest of the money,” Y/N couldn’t believe the nerve of the woman.
“The last time I saw her was the day she gave birth to Oliver. She signed all the paperwork and I made sure to put a restraining order on her. Just in case, this type of shit ever happened” Harry sighed, “I honestly don’t know what else she wants now. I guess we will have to wait and see, huh?”
“He is not hers to keep. She gave him up without ever giving him a chance. Therefore, you should do the same to her — not give her the chance”
“I already set up a meeting with her on Monday morning” he revealed. “I have a few things that I never got off my chest”
“Do you think that’s wise?” She tilted her head. “I suppose it will only anger her more”
“I don’t” Harry shrugged. “But she won’t beat me at my own game” referring to his ability to terrorize everyone in the office with a simple look.
The last time that Harry and Ashley had been in the same room, he had been submissive with her requests because of what was on the line. Now she was stepping into the lion’s den, and Harry wasn’t going to hold back.
“I know I was out of line earlier” Y/N relaxed as she felt the weight getting lifted from her shoulders.
“You weren’t. You deserve respect and my father was a complete jackass” He reached out for her conveying his apology. She scooted closer to him enough so their thighs and shoulders would touch. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist from behind and delivered a soft peck on her temple.
“Good morning, darling,” He looked at her through the mirror as he finished adjusting the cuffs of the shirt. Harry was straight out of the show. He was clean-shaven and his hair had already been styled the way he liked it. “You are up early” He pointed out as it only was half-past six.
They had gotten back from the awful trip to the Hamptons that same day. As soon as the yacht docked, Harry dragged Y/N back to the house. They picked up Oliver and said goodbye to everyone. Everyone except Mr. Styles.
“I guess I wasn’t that tired” Harry smiled, knowing she was lying to him. After all, he was the one that had kept her up until the early hours. Their rendezvous had dragged out later than he had expected, “Plus I wanted to see you before you left”.
“Are you having breakfast with me then?” He adjusted his tie. Harry could see her sleep deprivation from miles away and only hoped she would decline his invitation. Just so she could get some sleep. By the look of the bags under her eyes, she was in need of well-deserved rest. Oliver wasn't due to wake up for a few more hours, which gave her the perfect window to charge batteries.
“I would love to” She wiped the small tears that her big yawn had just given her. Harry wasn't surprised at her stubbornness. “I am just going to get ready real quick”
“I’ll meet you downstairs then” He leaned down and pecked her lips on the way downstairs.
Food had just been served by the time that Y/N descended the stairs. She wore a long-sleeve blouse with a low-cut neckline, high-waisted light gray pants, and pointed-toe black heels. Her hair was down and tucked behind her ears, revealing the very fake, white pearls that she had gotten a while back.
Harry was looking at the stock market when his attention was drawn back to her. An apparent smile made its way to his face as he watched her stride her way towards the table. He crossed his arms over his chest, blowing out his cheeks at her beauty.
“Maybe I should jus' take you to work with me,” Y/N shook her head at her boyfriend and tried to act unbothered at his playful behavior. She loved early morning, playful Harry. At six in the morning, no one had yet ruined his mood with unforeseen problems at the company or complaints from other employees. “You know, f'my sort of entertainment”.
“Another Styles requires my uttermost attention” The young nanny knew she couldn't leave Oliver in someone else’s care, even if she wanted to. Not with psycho-Ashley lurking in the streets in search of him.
“Pity” He reached out for his coffee. “We would’ve had so much fun,” He winked before taking a sip. “However, you should come before the day ends”.
“We have to talk about your job and make all the necessary arrangements fo' our Italy trip” He watched her carefully, waiting for any type of reaction. The last time he had touched the subject, he had snapped at her and the conversation hadn’t gone like he had wanted to.
“You aren’t going to fire me, are you?” She asked with a bit of humor in her voice. Harry shook his head at her, but she could feel the sudden tension in the air. “Oh my god! You are going to fire me!” She gasped.
“I just said we’ll talk about it this evening, babe,” He threw in the term of endearment to soften the situation.
“Harry” She started again.
“I won’t leave you without a job, Y/N. What kind of boyfriend would I be?”
“A very bad one” She caught a glimpse of his sly smile before he continued eating his granola and yogurt for breakfast.
“Y' could just let me take care of you, m'love” He suggested, knowing he would get shut off by her without a second thought.
“You can’t Harry” She had never envisioned herself as one of those high-class socialites that stayed home and planned tea parties with her friends from the golf country club.
“Oh trust me I can. Yeh jus' won’t let me,” He exhaled as he leaned back on his seat. “It would be a pleasure, but I know you are too stubborn to ever accept”
“You can’t expect me to stay all day here with my arms crossed and not move a finger” Harry pursed his lips, and rested an elbow on the arm of his seat. “Plus, you are my boyfriend and not my husband”
“If I was your husband, you would let me take care of you?” He leaned forward, intrigued by the conversation.
“Harry” she warned, trying to hide the small smile that kept trying to creep up.
“Do you often think of us getting married, Ms. Y/L/N?”
Hello angels, my new fic is a beaut little best friends to lover style trope. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing this one.
As always, reblogs, likes, feedback is appreciated and encouraged round these parts.
Lots of love, G x
Warnings: Contains legal alcohol consumption
Contains: Birthday parties, late night McDonalds drive thru's, busted trousers, friends pining and some cute confessions.
Word Count: 6.5k baby
Harry couldn’t take his eyes off her as her body moved to the beat of the music and her skin glowed technicolour under the pulsing lights of the club. His best friend radiated so much joy, and on her birthday night out, surrounded by their mutual friend group and a few others of Y/N’s circle, the positive energy that seeped from her pores seemed to affect everyone’s mood in the room and brought the energy to the party, it really was hard to look away. Harry had been nursing glasses of water all night, taking it upon himself to be Y/N’s designated driver, not that he minded, no not at all. He was looking forward to their drive home later. Harry and Y/N had known each other for about 4 years and quickly fallen into step as each other’s best friend, they would do anything and drop everything in a heartbeat if the other one needed them to. So yeah, a little one on one time with his best friend after her being stolen away by their mutual friends for the evening was exactly what he needed. Y/N with a few drinks in her was one of Harry’s favourite versions of her too, she would get all flushed and giggly and spoke whatever came to mind with no qualms about if it made sense or not and the idea of Harry getting to spend the car ride back with her like that had him ready to ask her to go home now. In fact, scratch that, that wasn’t his favourite version of Y/N, every version of her was his favourite, even when she was upset or annoyed at him and would get all mouthy towards him, he was obsessed with every version of her. That’s the thing about Harry, he was completely and irrevocably in love with her, smitten, infatuated, head over heels whatever you want to call it, and Y/N? Well, she was blissfully unaware that her best friend was pining after her.
“Another one for the birthday girl!” Sarah proclaimed dancing up to Y/N with another margarita in her hand.
“AH! Miss Jones you are a saint,” Y/N called over the blaring music as she took a sip out of the glass, “and a bad influence,” she said into Sarah’s ear gripping onto the woman’s forearm with her spare hand to keep her balance as she leaned in placing a kiss on Sarah’s cheek in thanks before tipping her head back in a loud laugh and continuing to sway her hips to the music and take sips from her fresh margarita, the salt residue and sourness of the lime making her lick her lips after each swallow.
It was the unmistakeable opening line of the next song that snapped Y/N out of her reverie.
‘It’s Britney Bitch’ rang out around the club and Y/N shrieked in joy, downing the remainder of her drink whipping her head round to catch Harry leaning against the bar behind her, watching, with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Dancefloor, now, Styles,” Y/N demanded setting her glass down on the bar top next to his arm that was keeping him propped up. Before Harry even had a chance to open his mouth, she had grabbed him by the hand pulling him into her on the dancefloor that had turned slightly sticky due to spilled drinks.
With her hands high in the air above her head, her hips moving and her eyes slightly manic from the excitement as she looked at him, she asked him, “you weren’t going to leave me hangin’ were you, H? I mean it’s our song!” It’s true they had connected over a mutual admiration over Britney Spears, amongst other things.
“It’s our two songs actually,” he smirked at her as he bopped side to side in time with her admiring how the slight sheen of sweat gathering over her from all her dancing, made her skin look like it was glittering under the lights.
“What d’ya mean?” Y/N asked narrowing her eyes at her best friend with a radiant smile still gracing her lips.
“Just you wait, angel, I might’ve put in a little request with the DJ,” Harry said as he danced closer to her.
Then she heard it, Britney’s Gimme More mixing into another one of her and Harry’s joint songs, Gimme Gimme Gimme by ABBA.
“No fucking WAY!” Y/N exclaimed her arms crashing down around Harry’s neck pulling him against her front, their hips moving in perfect sync with each other.
“I know you too well, Y/N/N,” Harry said in her ear, his eyes slipping shut as he caught a whiff of her perfume that was perfectly placed on the pulse point below her ear.
Her head tipped back in a howling laughter that led to her almost screaming the lyrics begging to find a man after midnight. It exposed her whole neck to him, and the thought crossed his mind how easy it would be for him to place his lips against her throat and kiss and kiss and kiss.
Just when the thought had just about overpowered all his senses, the remix of their two favourite songs began to blend into the DJ’s next pick and Y/N was tugging him by the hand through the throngs of people on the dancefloor back towards the bar Harry had been leant against prior.
“Another margarita, love?” he asked her keeping his fingers intertwined with her own. Harry had always referred to her with various nicknames and pet names, in fact him doing so, had caused issues in a few of each of their previous relationships, but he couldn’t imagine calling her anything else, especially not when he was this besotted with her.
“Mmm, nah, just a water I think this time Har, I swear there’s sweat pissin’ out of just about every pore on my body,” she said scrunching her nose up at the thought as Harry snorted at her comment before requesting two iced waters from the barman waiting on their order.
“No one forced yeh to dance that hard angel,” he said as he watched her sink one of the glasses of water in nearly three big gulps.
“Eh and what was I s’posed to do? Watch you and everyone else two step to our songs or get stuck in? I chose the latter thanks very much mister.” She said poking the centre of his chest while picking up the second glass of water and taking a more tentative sip rather than the large gulps she had taken before.
“You’re having a good night at least darlin’?” he said watching the sheen of sweat start to disappear from her skin as she cooled down.
“The best! Thank you by the way, for doin’ all this for me, bes’ birthday ever,” she said slinging her arm round him in a hug as she stumbled towards him, her feet not quite able to catch up with the rest of her body under the influence of all the tequila she had consumed under its various guises of shots and cocktails.
“Wow, even better than the year I took yeh to see Fleetwood Mac?” Harry gaped jokingly knowing that nothing would top that night for his best friend.
“Eh, y’know better than anyone that was the best night of m’life, never mind birthdays,” she said with one arm still slung around his neck, “but as birthdays go, this one has been a knockout, even if I don’ remember half of it tomorrow,” she giggled.
“Good, m’glad,” he smiled down at her, her intoxicated expression was all soft and smiley looking up into his eyes as she was tucked against his chest.
“Mhmm, I am gettin’ kind of hungry though,” she said her lips puckering into a pout.
“Knew tha’ was goin’ to happen sooner or later, c’mon drink up and we’ll get out of here and we’ll go round the drive thru on the way home,” Harry said booping the end of her nose with his index finger as he detached her arm from around his neck to place the glass with the remainder of the water into her hand.
She slugged down the rest of the water as Harry settled his tab with the bar that was honestly just Y/N’s drinks for the evening he had insisted on paying for as part of her birthday.
“Wait, I- I shoul’ go an’ say bye to people an’ let them know we’re going,” Y/N slurred slightly turning round to face the dance floor to see her remaining friends spread sporadically over the floor and the rest of the venue as she gripped onto Harry’s forearm.
“S’alright lovie, I’ve just put a message in the group chat we had organising tonigh’ to say we’re heading, I’ll add you into it tomorrow an’ you can say thanks to them for coming,” he smiled at her rubbing her hand that gripped his forearm to get her attention. “Plus ‘ve not taught you anythin’ if you don’t know the benefits of a French exit by now,” he smirked at her sliding his phone back into his pocket after shooting the text into the group chat.
“An’ this, H, is why you’re m’absolute favourite,” she sighed happily reaching up to place a kiss, like the one she gave Sarah, on his cheek. While Harry’s cheek burned under the feeling of her soft lips, Y/N grinned at him saying “c’mon,” while bouncing away in the opposite direction of where they should be heading to exit the club.
Harry rolled his eyes at the antics of his intoxicated best friend before gripping her hand and leading her towards the back exit of the club where he had parked the car in the rear alley when they arrived as to not attract any attention from photographers when they would have to leave the club later in the evening.
Harry was holding the passenger door open for Y/N as she dawdled behind him out into the alley, letting out a soft, “whoopsie-daisy,” as she stumbled over the cobbled road surface into Harry’s chest as she giggled at herself.
“C’mon, get in the car, silly girl,” Harry smiled at her putting his hand out to help her hoist herself in, closing the door softly behind her. As he slid into the driver’s seat, he looked to see his best friend’s brow furrowed as she fought with the seat belt and its buckle. He knocked her hands out the way as he leant in to fasten her in properly.
“Y’smell like tequila love,” Harry laughed under his breath, pulling his hand up to her face to tuck the pieces of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.
“There’s much worse I could smell like, H,” she giggled back clasping the hand that had been touching her hair in hers. “This one’s m’favourite y’know,” she murmured looking down and playing with the gold ring with the pinkish stone set into the band that adorned his pinkie finger.
“Was a gift from Stevie, that one,” Harry smiled looking down at her fingers playing with his.
“Mm, I know,” she smiled still playing, and Harry was at the point he would take it off and give it to her as well as every other ring and every other possession he owned if he could keep her this happy and as his forever. “It suits you,” she almost whispered looking up into his bright green eyes a soft, blissed out smile gracing her face.
Just then, a low rumble admitted from Y/N’s stomach as she gasped, then giggled taking her hand away from his and setting it against her soft tummy.
“C’mon missy, let’s get you fed, eh?” he said smiling at her again as he turned on the engine to the car, pulling out of the alley and onto the main road.
“I swear, there’s crack or somethin’ in Sprite from McDonalds,” Y/N moaned in appreciation, her lipstick already staining the straw between her lips, “here, try,” she said thrusting the cup in front of Harry.
“Wait, two secs babe,” he laughed at her reaching out the window to grab the brown paper bag loaded with fast food from the kid who was on the nightshift on the 24-hour McDonalds drive thru, “cheers mate, have a good’un,” he said plopping the bag on Y/N’s lap in the passenger seat and rolling his window back up. He wrapped his lips round the stained paper straw and drank from Y/N’s sprite. “Yep, definitely some form of drug in that,” he grinned at her taking the cup and putting it in the cup holder as Y/N was already rifling through the brown paper bag in search of the holy grail.
“Aha, got ‘em,” she proclaimed stuffing two fries into her mouth before turning the container towards her best friend, “chip?” she asked, while Harry only responded by taking a quick side glance at her and opening his mouth wide keeping his hands gripping the steering wheel. Y/N giggled before popping two into his mouth, his teeth grazing the tips of her fingers when she didn’t pull them away immediately.
“Swear to god Y/N if you spill any of that in m’car I’ll-” Harry started.
“You’ll what H? Kill me? I’d like to see you even try live without me,” Y/N snorted cutting him off, “besides f’don’t eat now, it’ll be stone cold by the time we get back to mine,” Y/N justified, continuing to wolf down the fries in her hand.
“Though’ you could just stay at mine, f’you fancied?” Harry said glancing over at her still blissed out expression taking another few fries from the container, “jus’ thought since s’closer innit?” he said chewing round the salty chips.
“Ah, you really are an angel, aren’t you Styles?” she grinned at him, dropping the fries back into the paper bag with the intention of eating them when they got back to his house. He let out a soft laugh and squeezed her knee closest to him as he continued the short drive back to his house.
“Eh, speaking of you trying to live without me, I found somethin’ online we could try to do together,” she said shimmying her body round in the seat to look at him better in the dark car, seeing his features light up only when they drove under streetlights.
“Oh yeah, what’s it this time?” Harry mused. She had this habit of finding weird and wonderful activities for them to do whenever they got time together or she came out to spend some time with her best friend while he was around the world on tour. They had been to a dog grooming competition in New Jersey, grape pressing with their feet in the south of France and an adult intro to tap dancing class in London all in the last year, as well as a few other ones thrown in the mix.
“Pottery. It’s a few classes but you’ve got a few weeks at home now so I jus’ signed us up anyway. They teach us how to throw and the-then we get to decorate it,” she hiccupped still being affected by her multiple margaritas and the indigestion she was probably already suffering from the greasy fries. “Then they cook it or whatever s’called an’ we walk out with a vase or a bowl or somethin’” she said grabbing back onto her sprite for a big sip.
“Sounds good darlin’ lemme know when and I’ll be there,” Harry knew, although he was at home for a few weeks he was still stupidly busy, but like they said earlier. He’d drop all of that in a second for time with her.
“Thought we could pretend we were in ‘Ghost’ or something” Y/N said wiggling her eyebrows jokingly at Harry, putting the cup back down.
“Absolutely, but only if I get to be Demi Moore,” Harry laughed as he parked the car in his driveway and killing the engine, reaching over to unbuckle Y/N as she gathered the brown paper bag full of their food.
Just as she was about to leap out the car and no doubt end up on her face, Harry double timed it round the front of the car to lift her out and set her on the tall heels she was wearing.
“Why thank you, good sir,” she giggled holding onto the bag of food in one hand, her clutch bag tucked under her armpit and the other hand gripping onto harry as he kicked the passenger door shut behind him as they walked up to his front door. Well Y/N more toddling and stumbling along holding onto him, like a baby deer on ice.
“In you get, Bambi,” he said softly unlocking the front door and ushering her inside in front of him. As he turned to lock up behind them, he heard her heels clip clopping towards what he assumed would be the kitchen. He followed the sound and found her sitting on his kitchen island with her legs swinging and the McDonalds bag tore open beside her, her teeth sinking into the burger she had him order for her.
“Though’ you stopped eating beef, angel?” He said sitting on the stool in front of her, even with him sat down he was probably only about a head shorter than her.
“Ha- yeah, I did, doesn’t count when I’ve had a drink though,” she said swallowing her food down.
“Oh, is that how it works, pretty girl?” he laughed at her, grabbing hold of the fry container, and pouring it out onto the ripped remnants of the bag so they could both pick at the pile.
“Mhm, it’s in the red meat rule book, ve-vegi- vegetarianism is null and void under the influence of tequila,” she said struggling to get the long words out.
Harry giggled at her, his thumb swiping around her lip gathering traces of her lipstick and the burger sauce that had seeped out. He sucked his thumb into his mouth getting a taste of her and the food as her hazy eyes watched him through her thick lashes.
“You’ve got a cheek anyway Mr. Pescatarian, aren’t those nuggets yours, huh?” she said accusingly leaning forward to gaze into his sparkling green eyes.
“Oh, they absolutely are,” Harry said eating his own food, “an’ m’not ashamed to admit it either,” he said, mouth full.
“Silly boy,” she giggled running her fingers through his tousled hair. Harry shut his eyes at the sensation, they’ve always been into physical touch with each other but there was something about her like this, so pure and innocent, it made his heart flutter under her touch.
They ate in silence for a little while, with Y/N wriggling in her seat on the countertop every few minutes as she came down from the energy of the night. Eventually she flopped backwards, her back lying flat against the kitchen island and her legs still swinging off the side.
“Right bedtime for you I think, beautiful,” he said as he shoved the remainder of the food and rubbish to the side for him to tidy up later.
“Mmm, help me first,” she groaned, her voice sounding significantly sleepier than it had done previously, “don’ think I could make it upstairs with these on,” she whimpered swinging her leg up into Harry’s face nearly kicking him in the forehead if he hadn’t caught her by the ankle and she wiggled her toes peeping out the shoe.
“You’re never goin’ to remember half a’ this in the morning, are you, sweets?” he said softly as his hand began to search for the buckle on the ankle strap of her shoe.
“Nah, probably not,” she laughed as she propped herself on her elbows to watch him undo one shoe then reach for her other ankle to get the other one.
Letting the shoes clatter to the floor, he kept hold of her ankle, “mm, s’probably a good thing,” he murmured pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her ankle bone.
“Har, what’re yo-” she started, sitting up a little more.
“Just loving on my best friend, c’mon, bedtime,” he smiled softly at her, pulling her by the ankle until she was sliding off the counter to a standing position. She blinked rapidly at him trying to understand her sudden change of posture, stumbling into his awaiting arms again.
They dawdled up the stairs, until they got to the landing of the first flight, when Y/N could barely lift her feet to climb the next flight as the tiredness began to take over her body.
Pressing a kiss to her temple he murmured, “up you get,” scooping her up into his arms, carrying her up the rest of the steps, along the hall as she cosied into his chest, inhaling his scent. He nudged his bedroom door open with his hip and took her straight into his en-suite bathroom and sat her on the counter next to the sink.
Through her hazy vision, Y/N could see Harry knocking about in the cabinet underneath the sink and popped up suddenly with a bottle of makeup remover and some cotton pads, her hands went to grab the products from him for her to haphazardly remove her make-up off.
“S’alright, I’ll do it Y/N/N,” he said running the dampened cotton over her skin.
Y/N let her eyes slip shut and let Harry’s delicate touch do all the work and hummed lowly in satisfaction.
“There she is,” Harry whispered as her eyes fluttered back open to see him gazing at her his hand resting on her chin. “Let me go get you something to change into,” he muttered, blinking as he detached himself from her, shaking his head as he exited the bathroom and into his walk-in wardrobe. Y/N’s foggy thoughts returned to her and Harry downstairs in the kitchen and the kiss he placed to her ankle, it wasn’t new for him to love on her, but something felt different. She caught herself pulling up her foot and rubbing the spot where his lips had been.
“Y’alright?” Harry asked her, walking back into the room, with one of his t-shirts and a pair of pyjama trousers under his arm, his now ringless hand tucking her hair behind her ear again and Y/N felt her skin sear under his touch.
“Mm, all good, jus’ tired,” she smiled lazily at him, making grabby hands towards the garments he held for her.
“Right, drunky,” he snickered, “I’ll leave you to get changed, I’ll be through there f’you need anything,” he said as he exited the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.
Y/N let out a long, deep breath she didn’t realise she had been holding onto before slipping off the counter to begin her mission of getting undressed. In normal circumstances, she’d be stripped off and changed within minutes, however, being intoxicated caused a few hiccups. She fought with the catches of her bralette style top before managing to undo it and slip it down her arms. Slinging Harry’s t-shirt over her head, realising she had managed to put it on backwards at first. With the shirt the right way round, it fell to the tops of her thighs. Looking in the mirror, she swept her hair up and out of her face, stealing one of Harry’s clips from the bathroom counter to bundle her locks on top of her head. She fought with the clasp of her trousers for a good few minutes before huffing out a sigh, giving up and opening the bathroom door in search of her best friend to help. Walking back into the main bedroom, she saw Harry, now changed into his own t-shirt and pyjama trouser combo to sleep, placing a glass of water on one of the bedside tables, and peeling back the covers on one side of the bed.
“Hey, H,” she said softly. He turned round and caught sight of her piled up hair in his clip.
“Nice hair,” he snorted, “where’d you get the clip?” he said keeping his eyes on hers.
“Hmm, borrowed it from a friend,” she smiled, “uh can y-you help me with something?” she said gnawing on her lower lip walking towards him.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his eyes flashing with concern as he took stock of her face.
“Ca-can’t unfasten my trousers, are you able to help? Jus’ can’t get m’fingers to work,” she said shyly. Harry let his breath go thinking something had happened to her in the quarter of an hour he had left her alone.
“Of course, darling, c’mere,” he said to her, pulling her closer. His shaking fingers reached for the waistband of the trousers as her arms rested on his shoulders to keep herself steady.
She felt his fingers across her naval and shivered under his touch, keeping her eyes on his face as his brow furrowed trying to undo the pesky clasp.
“Oh shit,” Harry muttered, and Y/N’s eyes glanced down to see the two sides of the trouser clasp in her Harry’s fingers, no longer attached to the trousers at all.
“Harry,” she moaned tipping her head back, “these are my favourite trousers,” she whined out.
“I’ll get them fixed, promise, sorry my love,” Harry said pressing a kiss onto her forehead letting her slip her arms from around his neck.
“S’fine, I’m just being overdramatic,” she huffed out sitting down on the edge of the bed where Harry had peeled back the duvet. She slid the zip of the trousers down and kicked her legs free, leaving her in her underwear and Harry’s t-shirt. Harry’s eyes scanned from the tips of her toes, up her legs, across her torso and up to her face. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he struggled to get his words out as he was struck down by her beauty. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before from her, they were pretty comfortable with each other, but being face to face with her beauty, was always a bit disarming.
“Do-d’ya want the pyjama trousers?” he questioned standing a bit dumbfounded.
“Uh, no, legs are too warm an’ fidgety,” she said swinging them up onto his bed, leaving the busted trousers in a heap on the floor.
“Righ’ well, I’ll be across the hall, m’sure you’ll shout f’you need me, I’ve left you water if you need it, lovie” he smiled down at her eyes that were blinking sleepily.
“Wait, what? Where y’going?” her eyes snapped open, and she sat back up.
“I’m going to go sleep in the spare room, give yeh a bit of peace,” he smiled down at her confused face.
“Uh, no, what if I don’ want peace? Plus, if anythin’ I should be the one sleeping in the spare room, this is your bed, H,” she said tugging on his arm. “C’mon, come an’ give your bestie a cuddle,” she smirked up at him pulling him towards her side of the bed and she shuffled backwards toward the other side.
“Y’sure lovie?” he said stopping himself before he fell onto the mattress.
“Wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure, silly,” she giggled giving his arm one last tug, so he collapsed into the sheets next to her.
“Silly? Wouldn’t be me,” he said keeping their fingers intertwined under the duvet.
“Oh, you’re the silliest, love,” she concluded, cosying up to his chest. “Thank you again, by the way,” she whispered her thumb rubbing the back of his hand as she gazed into his eyes.
“What y’saying thanks for, hmm?” he wondered looking deeply into her bright irises.
“I don’t know, jus’ for throwing my birthday party tonight, and don’t say it wasn’t just you, ‘cause I know it was, Sarah told me,” she remarked her other hand coming up to rake through his hair again.
“I need to not to trust Sarah in future, she really can’t hold her water,” Harry mused teasingly. “Don’t say thanks though, love, y’deserve it, I’d do it all again tomorrow f’you if you really wanted me to,” he breathed out, his thumb stroking away a loose eyelash from her cheek.
“Don’t think I could handle two nights in a row anymore H,” she laughed at her own intoxicated state, “it’s not just tha’ though. You stayed sober so y’could drive me home, got me food and let me eat it in y’car even though I know you hate the smell that’s always left behind. You brought me home, got me cleaned up an’ dressed for bed. Y’let me drag you to silly guinea pig competitions and tap-dancing classes and sign us up for pottery lessons ‘fore I even ask you, and I could bet you’re already thinking of somewhere you can take those trousers to get them mended for me. I don’t know,” she blinked slowly, sleep very nearly overcoming her hazy mind. “I jus’ feel, I don’t say out loud enough how much y’mean t’me and thank you for being there for me, even when I’m sozzled on margaritas,” she tittered.
“Aw, lovie, especially when you’re sozzled on margaritas,” he joked pinching her side through the t-shirt she wore. “Y’mean the absolute world to me too, you know, an’ I do all those things just to see how happy it makes you. Y’don’t need to say thank you, seeing your face light up, well, that’s more than enough f’me,” he said quietly pressing barely there kisses to her hairline.
They lay in silence for a few minutes, Y/N’s breathing slowing down to a point where Harry believed she was probably seconds away from falling under the guise of sleep.
“I’m only saying this, cause you’re nearly asleep an’ you’re still half-cut so y’probably won’t remember it in the morning,” Harry mumbled so lowly you could barely make out what he was saying, Y/N was pressed against his front and felt the vibrations coming from his chest as her nearly closed eyes peered into his.
“Bu-but if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will,” Harry paused his thumb still smoothing over her hand to lull her to sleep.
“I am so ridiculously head over heels in love with you Y/N, an’ everything I do f’you and with you is in the hope that one day, you’ll love me like this too, and if you never do, that’s fine, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you or being in love with you,” he whispered in the darkness. “I just had to say it,” he finalised his thoughts.
It was silent for a few seconds before Y/N let out a slow, questioning “Hmmm?” to him.
“S’nothing babe, go to sleep,” Harry whispered in return, leaning down, and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of her lips. If that’s the closest he ever gets to giving her a proper kiss, he’ll remember it for the rest of his days.
Just as Harry nearly slipped under into sleep, he heard the softest, “Harry,” whisper into the darkness.
“S’wrong?” Harry breathed back.
“I left my Sprite in the car,” he heard before they both fell asleep.
Waking up to the sun casting over Y/N’s body from the large window in Harry’s bedroom, she let out a groan and stretched, trying to gain some tension back in her sleep-addled body. Rolling over to find Harry’s side of the bed empty. The sheets were still warm, so he hadn’t long left her. She blinked slowly to see her glasses perched on the bedside table that he had obviously dug through her bag from the previous night to find, next to a fresh glass of water where she could see the condensation dripping down the side of the glass. Sliding her glasses up her face and sitting up in his bed, she took a long drink of the water before wandering through to his en-suite again to sort herself out for the morning.
While washing her hands she saw the white and purple of the toothbrush he had for her at his house sat in the holder, next to his own pink one, that he had looked out for her to use because he knew she would’ve wanted to brush her teeth in order to feel at least a little fresher and get the taste of tequila and McDonalds out of her mouth. Shaking her head as she brushed her teeth, she was in disbelief at how Harry thinks of every little thing she could possibly need, he really did look after her. She pulled her hair out of Harry’s clip and shook out her curls from the previous night, they still looked semi-presentable so that would just have to do. After placing the borrowed clip back where she found it, she wandered slowly downstairs, not without noticing that her crumpled trousers and their busted fastening had vanished, Harry probably having already had them sent off to be fixed. She was still in her underwear and t-shirt combo, but it was nothing Harry hadn’t seen before. She found him in the kitchen, the mess left over from their late-night McDonald’s gone as if it had never happened, and he was humming lowly to the Nick Drake playlist that he had been playing softly in the background. He must have heard her coming as she was greeted with a bright, “G’morning sunshine! How’re y’feeling this morning?” before she had even got in the room fully. Slumping down into the stool Harry had been occupying the night before.
“Oh, that good, is it?” Harry laughed when she only responded with a sigh, turning round he saw her fresh faced and smiling at him. “Made your coffee, and here’s two paracetamol if you so wish as well,” he said sliding a mug and two pills over to her as he leant against the worktop next to the sink and sipped on his own morning coffee.
“You’re an angel, y’know that?” Y/N mumbled as she washed the pills down with the searing liquid.
“So I’ve been told,” Harry smirked at her as she pulled herself off the stool and round the island to stand next to him. She had this overwhelming urge to be close to him. So, she wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him in close to hug him towards her body.
“What’s this for, eh?” he said softly his chin resting on top of her head as he wrapped the hand that wasn’t holding onto his steaming coffee around her pulling her in tighter.
“Jus’ fancied a cuddle,” she mumbled into his chest placing a featherlight kiss against it, that Harry wasn’t sure if it was a kiss or just from her lips puckering as she spoke.
Harry held her close, swaying them slightly to the music that was still playing gently in the background.
“What do you want to do today? I thought we could maybe take a walk through the Heath this morning, blow the cobwebs out,” Harry pondered softly, still swaying them side to side. When she didn’t respond, he kept going, “then y’could let me know the details of these bloody pottery classes we’re goin’ to so I can get it booked in m’diary.” He gave a quiet laugh thinking back to them discussing which ‘Ghost’ character he could be last night.
Pulling away from her when she still hadn’t responded, his eyes searched her face for any clue of what she wanted to do.
“M’all yours today, you’re stuck with me all day, so whatever y’want to do, we’ll do, yeah?” Harry said as he placed his mug down on the worktop.
With her arms still wrapped around his middle she looked into his glittering green eyes and the words just spilled out.
“God, I love you.”
“Y-you wha’ Y/N/N?” Harry stuttered out his eyes snapping to yours.
“I love you. I’m in love with you,” Y/N said with as much conviction as she possibly could.
“Wha-what are you on about, Y/N?” Harry started to panic thinking back to his admission last night that he was sure she wouldn’t remember. Y/N knew he was starting to freak as he never called her by just her name it was always some nickname or pet name, so she had to come clean.
“I heard you last night, an’ I remember every word,” she said keeping her eyes locked on his as she rubbed soothing circles into his lower back. “I didn’t want to say anythin’ last night because I knew you’d think I was just saying it because I was plastered, but I’m not now and I mean it. I’m so in love with you, ridiculously head over heels in fact,” she said using Harry’s words from last night to convince him, “an’ I think I have been for a while,” she finished her eyes glossed over from the emotion of her confession as she looked up into his face, his glorious, if sunshine was a person, face.
“Y/N/N, are y’sure?” Harry started, his own eyes glossing over similarly as he wrapped his own arms around her.
“I’ve brushed my teeth, Styles, so hush up an’ lay a good one on me, yeah?” she looked up at him smirking and well, Harry didn’t have to be told twice.
His lips brushed softly against hers, once, twice, three times, delicately, just enough that he could feel her breath muddled with the scent of peppermint toothpaste and the lingering mouthful of coffee she had drank. He attached his lips to hers fully. Their soft lips melding together perfectly as her hands slid up his back playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, while he gripped her face in both hands, scared that if he let go, she would disappear. He felt the heat rise in her cheeks when their tongues met, liquid electricity coursing through each of their veins.
Pulling away to catch their breath, they both let out an airy laugh at the tears that had escaped their eyes at their confession. Harry’s hands slipped from her face, down her shoulders and arms and laced each of their hands together. Leaning their foreheads against each other’s as they breathed deeply, all their senses taken over by the other.
“Get dressed, we’re going to McDonalds,” Harry breathed out his eyes slipping shut.
“We just kissed properly for the first time, an’ you want to go to McDonalds?” Y/N questioned him with a laugh.
“Yeah, wanna get y’another one of those drug-filled Sprite’s you were on about last night an’ see what else I can get you to confess,” Harry said, a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Oh, piss off, Harry,” she groaned smacking his chest trying to wriggle out his hold.
“Can’t get rid of me now, angel,” he said pulling her in for their second kiss of many.
Harry asking you to model for Pleasing
Harry had been working on Pleasing now for months and it was finally all coming together, now with the products completely made it was time to take the pictures for the website.
One night you and Harry were chilling on the sofa watching a movie, he was rubbing your leg that was over his lap and he squeezed if once to get your attention.
‘So I’ve been thinking’, Harry spoke. You looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.
‘Thinking about what?’.
‘So next month it’s scheduled for the images to be taken for the Pleasing website and I don’t have any models for it’.
‘Well, shouldn’t you find one, I can help?’, you ask sitting up and reaching to get your phone.
He grabs your wrist as you sit up and pulls it down to sit in his lap.
‘I was wondering, and everyone approves of this, I just need your approval’.
‘My approval? It’s not an ex you want to do this is it?’, you joke.
He chuckles and shakes his head giving your palm a quick peck. ‘I want you to do it’.
You’re stunned as you look at him wide eyed, ‘me? I’m not a model’, you laugh off.
He just looks at you with hope in his eyes.
‘Harry, you can’t be serious’.
‘I’m serious, I want you, please say you’ll do it’.
You sit in silence for a bit letting this run through your mind. Finally sighing and slowly nodding, ‘okay, I’ll do it’.
As soon as the words leave your lips Harry’s mouth beams into a smile as he moves to grab and lift you as he stands up. ‘You’re gonna look like a supermodel baby’.
shaving | h.p
preview: harry asks you to try and shave his face
warnings: shaving, just extreme fluff, established relationship (married) a/n: if you enjoy this fic, please reblog. it helps so freaking much.
“sweetheart, could you come over here?” harry asked as you got up from your shared bed and walking over to the bathroom. you carefully walked behind him, hugging him around the waist and nuzzling into his neck. “well hello there, darling.” he chuckled.
“hi baby, why’d you call me?”
“you’ve been practically begging me to do it so, i thought i’d let you shave my face.” you beamed at the statement, “really?” harry nodded. “thank you babe!” you grinned pecking his lisp and jumping onto the bathroom counter as harry stood between your legs. “first i’ll show you how to do it.”
you watched intently as harry wet his face and applied shaving cream and then carefully a little shaved a little patch, you making sure to pay attention so you wouldn’t hurt him. “alright darling, you can go ahead now.” you took the razor from his hand and slowly glided the razor across his face, harry chuckling at your concentrated expression.
“what are you laughing at? douchebag.” you whined, playfully kicking his leg with your foot. “you’re so cute, sweetheart.” harry peppered your rosy cheeks with kisses, a little of the shave cream falling on your face. “harry, babe stop! it tickles!” he pulled away with a pout, “don’t avoid my kisses mrs. potter!”
he let you continue shaving his face, watching you with so much love and admiration in his eyes. he was so lucky. you made his life so happy and he hoped you felt the same with him. “ugh i’m scared i’ll cut you!” you huffed, “you won’t baby, and if you do it’s fine i’ve cut myself several times and it doesn’t hurt.” he didn’t show it but he was melting inside at how you were scared you’d hurt him.
“alright love, it’s done!” you acknowledged, squishing both his cheeks between your hand and smiling at how cute your husband was. “look at my baby, he’s so babie!” harry blushed madly, hiding his face on your shoulder as you stroked his hair. he eventually looked in the mirror, examining your work.
“you did really well, princess.” he praised, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the nickname. “now i want cuddles.” he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala and bringing you towards your bed. “nap with me my darling, i love you.”
he’s so vogue
Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue
A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!
Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.
Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.
That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.
Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".
This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.
Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.
You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.
Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.
"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.
This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.
"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.
"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.
"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.
You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.
After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.
Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.
It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.
But it was still bloody freezing.
You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.
The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.
You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.
It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.
"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.
You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.
"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his.
He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.
"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.
"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.
"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.
"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.
"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.
"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."
"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.
"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.
"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.
"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.
You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.
The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.
Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.
It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.
You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.
"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.
"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.
"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.
"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.
"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.
"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.
"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.
"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.
"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.
"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."
"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.
"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.
Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.
"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.
"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.
"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.
"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.
You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.
Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.
Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.
"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.
"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.
Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.
"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.
"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.
He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.
You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.
"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.
"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.
"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.
The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.
You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.
You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...
You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.
"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.
"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.
You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.
"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.
"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.
"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.
"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.
"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.
"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.
"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.
"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."
"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.
"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"
Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.
"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.
"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.
"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.
"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.
"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.
"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.
"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.
For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.
"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.
"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.
"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.
"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.
"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .
"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.
He was amazing though - that was the truth.
"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.
"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.
"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).
"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.
"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.
"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.
"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.
"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.
"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"
"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.
"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.
"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.
"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.
"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.
"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.
"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.
"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.
"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.
"You still see them often?"
"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.
"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.
"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.
"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.
This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.
"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.
"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.
"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.
"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.
"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.
"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.
"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"
"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.
"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.
He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.
Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.
"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.
"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.
"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."
"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.
"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.
"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid.
"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.
"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?
"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.
"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.
"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.
"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.
"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.
"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.
Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.
You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.
You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.
You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.
You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.
Today had been a good day.
Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.
People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.
"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.
"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.
"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.
Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.
Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.
The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.
Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.
You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.
Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.
"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.
"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.
"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.
"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.
"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."
Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.
The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.
"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.
"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.
"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"
"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.
"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.
"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.
"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.
"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.
"Sorry I didn't mean to—"
"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.
"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry.
You couldn't wait to be in love with him.
"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.
"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.
Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.
"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.
"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.
You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.
Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.
A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.
It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.
Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.
Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.
You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.
It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.
And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
Mistletoe Maybe (Harry Potter x Reader)
Credits for the image go to Pinterest and whoever made and posted it.
Here’s the link to my master list if any of you wanna check more of my stuff: Masterlist
Y/N - your name
Hogwarts looked amazing when it snowed. Christmas was coming around and everyone was going home, including you.
Well, you weren’t exactly going home. You were more of going off to have some great times in London…with the Chosen One.
Ah yes, Harry Potter, your best friend and the boy (who was becoming a very handsome man already) you were fairly sure you were in love with. You two would be forever maybes unfortunately and nothing could change that.
You sighed sadly at the thought, trying to push it away so that you could have a merry day-before-Christmas.
Turning around, you grinned and waved to Harry, a blush appearing on your face.
“Sorry I’m late,” he panted as he sat himself beside you on the Hogwarts train that would take you back to London, “Had to feed Hagrid last minute.”
He looked really cute with his glasses a bit down his nose and slightly sweaty…
You shook the thought off, your blush deepening even more, as you shook your head too.
“It’s alright, Harry. At least you made it on time.”
He wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulder and replied, “Why would I want to ever be late for an outing with you, Y/N? I love spending time with you!”
Your smile only widened and soon, both of you fell into easy conversation.
London was exhilarating. The day had passed with quickly, both of you exploring Diagon Alley then visiting the muggle bookstore Waterstone’s then eating at this underground pub with great seafood, and finally gazing at the dazzling, bright lights that decorated the London streets.
Spotting a huge bear that was made up of beautiful, glowing lights, you perked your excitedly.
“Harry, Harry, Harry, can we pleeeease take a picture with that bear?” you jumped up and down as you waited his answer.
He shook his head fondly and nodded.
“Alright, let’s take that picture.”
Laughing and cheering, you grabbed his hand and pulled him with you to the bear. Once you reached it, you pulled out your camera and made it look at you both but before you could, your eye caught on a little green something hanging on top of you.
“What’s happening, Y/N? My cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling,” Harry chuckled a bit, his face literally still in a smile for the picture.
Bringing the camera back to yourself first, you moved to face him and blushed as you said, “Harry, we’re under a mistletoe.”
He glanced up, red appearing on his cheeks to, and looked back down at you.
“Oh,” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, “We don’t really have to-”
In a sparkle of courage and push, you tiptoed and pressed your lips to his. For a moment, he was taken aback but immediately placed his hands at your waist and kissed you back. The kiss was short and sweet but you were giddy as you pulled away and felt the billions of butterflies in your stomach.
Nearby, you heard Big Ben ding loudly and you knew it was 12 AM.
“Merry Christmas, Harry,” you whispered, giddy and high on your kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he replied lowly.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you underneath a mistletoe on Christmas Day.
Hope you all like it! Requests are OPEN!
I’d love to read a blurb about aster!reader meeting Harry’s parents and family 🥺 I think it would be so cute
ive been planning on writing this for SO long so I hope this is worth the wait for everyone!!!!
"Baby, is that you?"
(Y/N) perked up at the sound of Harry's voice traveling through the closed tattoo shop. She was all too excited when she heard him, the lingering drawl of his gruff voice after a long day of interacting with clients drawing her to him. She dropped her school bag off by the front desk in a heap before she scuttled down the hall to his office.
"Hi, H," she bubbled, watching as he turned from his desk with a soft smile on his face and a light in his eyes when he saw her.
"Thought y'were gonna meet me at home," he prattled, opening his arms to welcome her on his lap. It made her heart warm whenever he referred to his place as her home, thoughts filtering around about one day possibly sharing a real home with him.
She bounded to him, situating herself astride his lap with her arms linked around his neck. He left his hair down for the day, the curling tendrils floating around his shoulders. His eyeliner was on its last legs for the day, having started his day early only to still be there after close. A silken black top was stretched over his chest, the top buttons left open to leave his tattoos on display, the bird's wings peeking out with the rose bush filler twining up his neck. The smile on his mouth cause the hoop pierced around his lip to bob, the metal shining in the low light.
"You said you were going to spend some more time here, so I thought I'd just meet you here instead. I hope that's okay, I know you need to get work done so I don't mean to distract you or anything," she rambled, fingers twirling the curls of his hair around her fingers as a way to channel the bubbling nerves that just made way in her head.
"I can't say y'won't distract me, but y'know I don't mind when y'come visit me. I was starting to miss you a little too much anyway, so 'm really happy you're here," he murmured, dipping his head and finally pressing a greeting kiss to her lips.
(Y/N) fought back a sigh as she melted into the contact. Her long day of classes had definitely gotten to her, along with the hours of homework she was pushing to finish before the weekend, and Harry was acting like the oasis for her fried brain. She slotted her lips against his, the full of her bottom lip fit between his two as her arms around his neck tightened. With his hands on her waist, he hugged her to his chest, keeping her flush against him as if his heart felt safer that way, so close to its home.
She was the first to pull back, aware of the fact he had a pile of paperwork left to go through on his desk. "How was your day? Did that one appointment go well? The back piece?" she rattled off, trying her best to recall what he had told her when she was half asleep the night before.
"Yeah, wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be," he nodded, "Only took me a couple of hours, so I was able to take a longer lunch. But, how about you, love bug? Classes go alright?"
"They were okay, just lots of information and I feel like I'm falling behind on some of my papers," she explained, deflating in his lap.
Leaving the post on her waist, he brought one of his hands up and brushed back a strand of hair that threatened to fall in her face. "I'm sure you're doing fine, love, you're jus' hard on yourself. And you know 'm more than happy to help if y'need anything."
"Thank you," she peeped, falling into his chest with her head snuggled against his shoulder. This was the best way he could help her, just by holding her and letting her talk out some of her anxieties.
"We need a vacation, don't we?" Harry murmured, planting a kiss to the crown of her head.
A smile bloomed across her features, head filling with thoughts about taking time away with just Harry without the pressure of school following or his head constantly in the office of the tattoo shop. "That sounds so nice."
A beat of silence passed, Harry running the flat of his hands over the planes of her back in soothing circles.
"You know," he started, "I've been meaning to visit home for a couple of months now. Mum's birthday is coming up in a few weeks, and I usually try to go home for a week to spend it with her."
"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, trying not to let disappointment shine through her tone at the idea of him going away without her, "That sounds fun. I know you've been missing her a lot, so I'm sure it'll be nice to see her." She'd be okay, she'd just stay and watch Evie while he was gone.
(Y/N) felt his throat bob as he swallowed, his hands on her back slowing to a halt. "I was actually wondering if y'wanted to come with me. Visit home and meet my mum and everything."
Now it was (Y/N)'s turn to gulp down her nerves and double check if her heart was still beating.
From the amount Harry has talked about his family and growing up in his hometown, she felt like she knew Anne already. She knew she was a loving and caring individual that made up the support system that encouraged Harry to be everything he wanted to be and loved him unconditionally as he grew up. But, even knowing that, she couldn't help but be a bit scared. She didn't have the best track record when it came to family relationships, something that was evident in her own strained link with her parents. There was a high chance Anne wouldn't care for her, if only because she was looking out for Harry and wanted to ensure he had the best (and she doesn't blame them for that one bit). She barely knew how to talk to her own parents, how was she supposed to navigate someone else's family?
"Really?" (Y/N) bleated, rolling her lips between her teeth as she struggled to keep from knitting her fingers—a surefire sign that would give away her nerves.
"Y'don't have to if y'don't want to," he offered, voice gentle, "I would really like for y'to meet my mum, but I know it can be a lot of pressure. I've told her a lot about you, and when she called last week she had asked me when she was going to get to meet you, and I told her soon. But, I don't want y'to feel like y'have to go if you're not ready."
Harry was always very good about keeping his nerves under wraps. Anything other than his love for (Y/N), he made a point to be rather reserved about, but she was just able to catch the edge to his voice and the tick that tightened his shoulders.
She peeled herself from his chest, pulling far enough away to catch the shielded look on his face, one that was prepared for any answer she would give him but a flicker of hope danced behind his irises.
"She wants to meet me?" she whispered, feeling a bit taken aback at the thought his mom might have looked forward to being introduced to her.
A lopsided smile tugged at the very corner of Harry's mouth, barely pulling up a single side. "Yeah," he nodded, "She really does. I've told her loads about you and she always asks how y'are and I've sent her pictures of us together. She already adores you, she's just waiting to make it official with finally meeting you."
(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth. While his words made her heart swell enough to press against her lungs and filter through her veins with light, the pressure on her shoulders weighed heavier. She was scared to mar the perfect vision Mrs. Twist had in her head, one she knew she wasn't able to live up to. Harry must have told his mom only the best about her, leaving out her shortcomings and the fact she was more than a little bit broken. She knew Harry loved her with everything in him, but she couldn't expect his family to see her through the same rose-colored glasses.
Harry's face fell the longer it took her to respond, already resigning himself to the decline he was sure to hear. That broke (Y/N)'s heart more than anything.
He was trying to be neutral, keep his own feelings out of this as to not sway her into giving any answer. But, she could tell he wanted her to go; he wanted her to meet his family and go the extra step in their relationship. Meeting her parents had been a complete accident and an absolute disaster, but being introduced to his family would be the real next step, bringing her that much more into his life. She wanted that, too. She wanted to be a part of everything he was willing to allow her a space into.
(Y/N) could do this. She could do this for him.
Tamping down the anxiety in her head, she worked a smile on her face, the curl growing more genuine the more she thought about meeting the people that made Harry who he was.
"When did you want to leave?"
Deep dimples were thumbed into Harry's cheeks as a bright grin spread over his lips. His arms around her waist worked to hug her against his chest, his excitement manifesting in his rapidly beating heart and urge to wrap himself around her. "Y'want to come? Really?"
She gave a small nod of her head, her own tender smile on her lips, "I want to see where you come from. I might need help picking your mom out a birthday present, but I would love to meet her."
His smile only broadened at her words, dimples denting deep into his cheeks. He could tell there was a tint of hesitation, an ounce of pressure inching over her demeanor like a dark cloud, but he was more than proud of her for working her way through it in the small baby steps he had been encouraging her to try.
"Oh, angel," he crooned, pulling her tightly to his chest and tucking his head in the crook of her neck, "She's going to love you, I promise. I love you."
His nose skimmed over her skin, his smile felt on her shoulder. Nothing could wash away her anxiety like Harry; all he had to do was shoot her that dimpled smile, hold her to his tattooed chest, or say a simple string of three words and her entire demeanor could shift. Nothing meant more to her than his support, and she wanted to reciprocate it a hundred times over.
"I love you too, H, so much."
Harry only held her tighter.
(Y/N) sat in a pile of her clothing, the flooring of her closet almost completely covered by different pastel fabrics. An open suitcase was laid out empty in front of her, only a single shirt of Harry's folded away in the corner that she planned on sleeping in while they were away.
Since she wouldn't allow her nerves to focus on the image she was so sure to taint, they had to manifest somewhere else. That somewhere else happened to be focussed on packing—deciding how she should present herself was the hardest part. Would Mrs. Twist expect her to be proper, the private school girl her parents had groomed her to be? Or would she expect someone that fit into Harry's world; all black with splashes of bold colors to compliment the confidence she would have to fake. (If she went that second route, she had less than twenty-four hours to buy a week's worth of clothing and reinvent herself in the meantime. It definitely wasn't her favorite option on the table). Or, she could bring the things she normally wore. She had more than enough pastel skirts and floral dresses to last the week with a couple of comfortable pairs of leggings and crop tops that made her feel confident in herself.
The latter was by far the easiest route, and the most comfortable, but before (Y/N) could allow herself to truly consider the possibility, she was reminded of the perfect image that was conveyed to Mrs. Twist by Harry. The fear of disappointment was too large for her to settle for herself as she was.
(Y/N) buried herself in the back of her closet, hoping to find some old clothes from when she lived with her parents, buried under other boxes she refused to unpack from her past. With her concentration packed somewhere else, she missed the sound of Harry's gentle knock on her door before he stepped into her room.
"Darling, Sarah said y'were busy packing, did y'still want to go out for dinner tonight?"
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the pastel mess that was her closet, almost completely dumped onto the wood laminate that made up her flooring. She whipped her head to look over her shoulder, her expression guilty like he had caught her doing something she was banned from.
"What's all this? Did y'need help packing?" Harry questioned, cautiously stepping into the walk-in to ensure he didn't stomp on any of her clothing.
Deflating in her spot, hands falling limply in her lap, (Y/N) only murmured out an "I don't know."
Harry gave her a small smile, shuffling a few garments out of the way before sitting down beside her with his knees tucked underneath him. Hugging her around her waist, he tugged her to his side, "What's wrong, angel? Hm?"
She laid her head on his shoulder, a kiss pressed to the crown of her head. Her fingers were knotted together in her lap, a sign Harry caught onto immediately that urged him to pull her tighter to him. "I just don't know what to do."
"What do y'mean, baby?"
A pinch cinched her brows together, the beginning urges of an ache in her head making themselves known. "I don't know what to bring for next week."
Letting out a breathy laugh, Harry's hand on her waist traced over the curve of her form, "Why didn't y'jus' say that, love bug. I can help y'pick everything out, don't worry."
Despite his wish for her worries to dissipate, she couldn't kick the twist in her stomach. She swallowed around the bubble in her throat, "But what if it's not right?"
Harry pulled away, keeping his arm around her middle as he sought out her eyes. It was clear she was holding back her real uncertainties. She tried to school her features into a neutral expression she mastered with her parents, but it was hard being anything but an open book around Harry.
"What wouldn't be right?" Harry pressed, keeping his voice soft in the limited light of her closet.
She took in a deep, shaky breath, his hand on her body keeping a firm hold. His eyes were soft as he gazed at her, willing to listen to any vulnerability she was wanted to share with him. She was getting better and better at speaking about her anxieties with him—even if it was hard—, and she didn't want to stop now
The tender smile on his lips dropped as she shared her short answer. His broad shoulders fell into a saddened slope, his eyes gauging her reactions carefully. "Oh, darling," he cooed, reaching his other arm around to scoop her to his lap.
Her thighs split to straddle his own, arms wrapped around his neck. Harry's own arms were looped around her middle to keep her flush against him, mimicking the hold he had on her when she struggled with the same fears when he proposed this trip a week ago. His fixed his gaze on her, scanning his eyes over her edged features—picking out each and every one of her anxious tells.
"Tell me what you're thinking, love."
(Y/N) chewed on her bottom lip, frays of thin skin brushing against her tongue as she fought the urge to rip them with her teeth and leave a raw, swollen point on her lip. "I-I know you said she would love me," she murmured, voice quiet as she tried to pull in deep breaths, "But what if she doesn't? I don't know who to be to make everyone happy—I don't know if I need to be someone my parents would like, or someone she think you would like—like-like Chloe—, or I go like this and show her how much of a mess I am."
Harry's face soured at the sound of Chloe's name (he'd told her time and time again that anything that had to do w Chloe was so far in his past that he often forgot it even happened, and she knew well and good that nothing was ever serious with her, so he couldn't fathom why she would bring her up in comparison). The folds in his expression only deepened when she concluded with a notion about how much of a mess she was, her hands tightening behind his neck as she tried to conceal one of her most obvious anxious ticks. He kept his own hands firm on her back, safely tucking her to his chest and allowing her to feel the warmth of his body.
It broke his heart hearing how insecure she was in herself, that she was willing to bend and break to fit a mould he would never ask her to fit into.
"Baby," he started, a soft coo to his voice, "I meant it when I said she would love you, and that's not matter what. Y'don't have to change to be anything other than someone you like and are comfortable with being. I would never expect y'to do that, and I know my mum wouldn't either."
Unable to fight off the urge any longer, (Y/N) started twisting her hands at the nape of his neck. The click of her nails clashing with one another as she knotted her fingers sounded through the quiet closet. A sheen of tears wiped over her eyes, something that made Harry's heart race as he dreaded the sight. Before he could say anything about the lacquer over her eyes or plead with her and telling her she'd be okay, she dropped her gaze to their laps, the hem of Harry's top becoming much more interesting.
"It's just—I don't know, I feel like—" (Y/N) floundered, different avenues of where to start opening up before she promptly shut them down, "...It's hard because I know how my family would react when I wasn't perfect, and I know you've told your mom about me and all these 'great' things I do and—Harry, I don't think I can live up to it. I'm only going to disappoint her and make her think I shouldn't be with you."
Harry tried his best to stay neutral as she spoke, though she still caught twitches of his mouth fighting to curl into a frown or a tint in his eyes that told how upset he was over her words. But, he let her speak, let her get everything out that she needed to even if it was scary knowing that her thoughts were out in the world and no longer just swirling through her head. She'd hate it if Harry saw her like she did.
His hands were kept steady on her back, fingers flexing to tighten his presence around her. He ducked his head to ensure he was in her line of sight. "You are not going to disappoint anyone for being yourself, do you hear me? You're so lovely, and kind, and sweet, and perfect"—(Y/N) perked up at the word, ready to protest before Harry swiftly cut her off—"even when y'think you're not—and you're definitely not a mess. It's okay to be nervous and upset over this, you're not crazy." One of his hands that had been acting as a steadying weight on the flat of her back abandoned post to cradle the full of her cheek, thumb affectionately petting over the height of her cheekbone, "I didn't make up lies to tell my mum, trying to make y'sound like anyone but who y'are. I told her the truth, and she adores y'for all of those things. The only way she would be disappointed is if y'came acting like someone else."
(Y/N) leant into his hand, warming under his gaze. He was always very good at talking her through things, even if it took time for the words to sink in. She had to trust him—she did trust him, it was only hard to quell the anxiety in her tummy and banish the idea that everyone's parents were like her's. She knew that wasn't the truth, the way her parents were exceptionally hard on her and beyond restricting was not normal, it was just hard for her to figure out what normal exactly was. If normal was anything like how Harry described his family—open, loving, supportive, caring—she had nothing to worry about, despite the knee-jerk doubts surfacing in reaction. She feared she would be the one exception for their kindness.
She blinked up at him, acknowledging the call of her name even though her dry mouth stopped her from saying anything.
"I love you," he murmured quietly, a tender smile taking his features and softening the stern edge that had carried his voice, "Everything is going to be fine, 'kay? Making yourself all worried over nothing."
"I know," she sighed, shuttering her eyes closed in a soft flutter of her lashes, "It's just hard sometimes."
"'M going to be there the whole time, though, remember? Can't be that hard if we're doing this together, right?"
A soft smile took (Y/N)'s features, feeling the brush of Harry's nose nudging against her's. That's right. They were doing this together, and nothing made her more comfortable or happier than being with Harry.
"Right," she mumbled, nodding her head in minute motions. She took the opportunity to tip her chin, surging her lips forward to catch Harry in a soft kiss.
His own lips smiled into the kiss. He indulged her in the contact for a few moment, the pressing of their lips innocent and sweet. "Is there anything else that's bothering you, angel?" Harry crooned when he pulled away, his hand still anchored on her cheek.
With (Y/N)'s eyes fluttered open, she gazed up at him with moony eyes, the same look that Harry remembered she gave him all that time ago in the parking lot after Sarah's gig. She shook her head at him, answering his question.
"No," she started, taking a deep breath, "I just need to trust you, and it'll be okay."
"And yourself—y'need to trust yourself too, baby," Harry pointed out, raising a brow.
She nodded her head, quick to agree. "And myself," she repeated, looking to Harry for approval as if he would give her anything but.
He rewarded her with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, a gentle planting of his lips before pulling away. He broke his eyes from her face for the first time since he pulled her to his lap, surveying the room around them. His eyes lingered on the single article of clothing tucked into her suitcase, the rest of her wardrobe strewn about the floor in piles of pink and white.
A small smile curled his lips when he spotted a floral dress he had been hoping she'd pack, laid under a pair of high-rise jeans with a pair of cherubs painted over the back pocket. "Y'made quite the mess, didn't you?" he teased, dropping his gaze to find her already looking around the disaster of her closet.
"I know," she sighed, shoulders curling in from where she sat on his lap, "I don't even know where to start and we leave tomorrow."
Harry carefully maneuvered her off his lap, keeping an arm tight around her waist as she settled on the floor beside him. "How 'bout I help you, then we go get some dinner before heading to my place. That sound good?"
She perked up at his suggestion, beaming up at him. "Yes, please."
Everything was always easier when they were together, (Y/N) had to trust that.
"How much longer?"
(Y/N) kept her hands tightly entwined around Harry's, his grip acting like something of a life raft as she attempted to slow her racing heart.
"Another twenty minutes, I think," Harry mused, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, "Y'alright?"
"Yeah," she peeped, nodding her head although his eyes were on the road, "I'm just... you know."
Harry did know. This wasn't the first time she had unraveled and told him of her anxieties and fears around meeting his family, and she was halfway sure it wouldn't be the last. She had a whole week to simmer in her nerves and second guess every single one of her interactions, and some of it was going to bubble over, no matter how hard she would try to bottle it up.
"'S going to be okay," he soothed her, "Remember our talk yesterday? She's going to love you, and you've got nothing to be afraid of. We're doing this together."
He emphasized his words with a squeeze of her hand, the closest he could get to holding her as he drove the rental car. "I know, it's going to be okay," she repeated, the sentiment echoing the mantra that had been playing in her head since they left to catch their flight that morning.
A beat of silence passed with just the dull sound of the radio playing some song (Y/N) didn't recognize and the rumbling purr of the engine.
"You know," Harry started, the sun streaming through the windscreen sparkling off of the hoop in his nose, "Mum called me this morning before I woke y'up. She was asking all about our flight and when we would get in, she was so excited. And, she asked me how you were."
"Oh?" she sounded, turning to give him the full of her attention with wide eyes fixed on his face.
"Mhm," he hummed, his lip ring bobbing as he edged his tongue over the piercing, "Before I even said anything, she started asking me what y'would want for dinner and what all your favorite foods were. She told me she wanted to surprise you, since you're the guest."
"But this whole visit is for her birthday, I'm not supposed to pick for her." (Y/N) had an inkling of what Harry's intentions had been for this avenue of conversation, the goal most likely being to distract her more than anything. But she didn't care, because whether it was his intention or not, it was working.
"That's what I told her, love. That we're coming to celebrate her, but she wouldn't have it," he smiled, glancing at her as he came to a stop sign, "She kept going until I told her y'like pasta, and no, y'didn't care if we had dessert tonight. So, expect something Italian tonight." Harry ended with a laugh, keeping his eyes on her for as long as he could before pulling through the stop.
(Y/N) directed her attention to their joined hands, her nerves slowly flushing from her system until they existed as a dull simmer. "That's really nice of her," she murmured, a tiny smile tugging at her lips, "She didn't have to make anything special for me."
"That's jus' mum," he smiled, "She's always doing little things like that for me and Gem, 'm not surprised she's extending that for you."
She didn't want to draw comparisons between Harry's family and her own, but (Y/N) couldn't help but think about how her own mom wouldn't have gone through that kind of trouble for her. It made (Y/N) that much more grateful for the life Harry had growing up; he deserved to have such a loving and doting mother.
"Is Gemma going to be there this week, too?"
Harry shook his head, a slight from on his lips, "Gems can't make it until the Friday after we leave; she's got this deadline for work she wasn't able to move, but I figured it would be better like that. Less overwhelming. Jus' us and mum for the week."
A bit of relief traveled through (Y/N)'s system. He was right—it was going to be a bit easier to handle meeting his family if she didn't have to do it all at once.
(Harry would never tell her, not wanting to make her feel embarrassed or like he was worried about the introduction to his family, but he had coordinated with Gemma to ensure their trips wouldn't overlap. He knew (Y/N) was already on the road to being overwhelmed just at the thought of meeting his mum, so he figured this might ease the blow even thought his sister was bummed she would have to wait a little longer to be introduced).
The final fifteen minutes of their drive tapered off rather quickly, Harry keeping her as entertained as he could with what his mom had planned for the week. (Y/N) was happily distracted, no longer minding the time until the final turn was made into the neighborhood Harry grew up in.
The houses lining the streets were clearly family homes, some even having toys for young children laid out in front. (Y/N) rolled her teeth between her lips, keeping her hands tightly wrapped around Harry's as he slowed down. He came to a stop in front of a house painted a muted green where there wasn't already exposed brick on display, white trimming framing the doorway and the windows with a flowerbed out front. A pair of black and white cats were perched in the windows, looking all too similar to Evie who was being cared for by Mitch back home.
Harry parked in front of the house, giving (Y/N) a squeeze to her hand. "Ready?" he asked her, tone serious as he gazed at her with a raised brow, "We can wait a second if y'need."
The easiest part about the way her anxiety manifested itself, after a certain point her thoughts are racing too fast and are too jumbled to do anything but become white noise and a tensing in her muscles. While it put her on edge, at least she didn't have enough space to dwell on specific outcomes and fears. That's how (Y/N) was feeling now, making it a tiny bit easier to say: "No, I'm ready."
Leaning over the center console, Harry planted his lips against her's in a comforting kiss. The soft of his mouth sealing over her's gave a moment of reprieve from the sound of blood rushing past her ears, the contact serving as a tender distraction. That moment came and went as it was Harry who pulled away first, giving her one more peck on her nose before reaching for his door.
(Y/N) mimicked his actions with a clumsy thread holding her together. She followed him to the boot where he was pulling out their stacked suitcases, with her taking the responsibility of grabbing their shared carryon bag they tucked in the back. The nylon strap kept (Y/N)'s fingers busy as she quietly waited on Harry, much too nervous to even broach the thought of stepping towards the house without him.
"C'mon, love," Harry beckoned, grabbing her attention as he bumped her shoulder with his, "Jus' follow me, yeah?"
She silently nodded her head, more than happy to allow him to lead her up the step stones that created the walkway to the front door. The closer they came, the cats in the window could be seen chirping their attention and twisting around to keep their large eyes trained on them. Harry breathed a laugh when he caught sight of them, setting the suitcases upright before ringing the doorbell embedded in a slate of bricks.
With her heartbeat at a thundering volume, (Y/N) barely heard Mrs. Twist's squealed greeting as she opened the door. A bright smile covered the woman's face as she rushed over the threshold and wrapped Harry in a hug. She was just as (Y/N) remembered from pictures, except much more beautiful than a camera could catch. Her hair was dark, reaching just to her shoulders in natural waves. Bright green eyes took in the image of her son, her beaming smile looking familiar as she'd seen it on Harry's lips millions of times.
"Hi, mum," Harry murmured, reciprocating her hold as he wrapped her in a large enough hug to make up for the time spent a part, "I missed you."
"I missed you too, H," Mrs. Twist cooed, pulling back from her hug to look at her son, "Your hair is so much longer than last time! Have you cut it at all?"
Harry breathed a laugh at her observation, shaking his head, "Nothing more than a trim. I think I like it like this; looks cool."
"I'm telling you, I think you started something this," she said, grabbing at one of his curls, "I see more and more boys your age wearing their hair like this. You've started a trend."
A bubble of laughter was pulled from Harry, his dimples deep and eyes scrunched from the height of his smile. "Mum, no one even knows me, they don't care that I wear m'hair like this. I didn't start anything."
A soft lipped smile covered Mrs. Twists features as she shook her head, staying firm on her stance that her baby was a trendsetter. "Have you gotten anymore tattoos?"
"Not too many, jus' little ones here and there," Harry shrugged, reaching for the handles on the suitcases as his mom started edging them towards the house, "I really want to get this large piece on m'back though. 'M still waiting to find the time, though."
"What did you want to get?"
Harry launched into a description (Y/N) had heard many a-time before, his vision growing more and more detailed every time he spouted it off. She followed quietly as they were led into the quaint home Harry spent his life in before moving out at the age of twenty. Her eyes trailed over the photos hanging on the walls, different stages of Harry's life depicted in the stills but always with a bubbling smile on his face with family surrounding him. She was vaguely aware of the way he reached around her and locked the door behind her, giving her a small smile before continuing on what had to be the rest of his artistic vision for his tattoo.
The house was warm and cozy. A cat tree was tucked into the corner of the room, a third cat that she hadn't seen perched in the window lazing on the top rung while the other familiar pets were roaming about the floor with big eyes and sniffing noses. Dark wood accented the home, with the furnishings coming in autumnal colors with bright pops of oranges and creams. The pillows were mismatched on the couch, with a slightly out of place rocking chair holding cushions that looked to be white when they were new, but had faded to an eggshell color. Dents and chips could be found in the baseboards and walls, spots where the paint was visibly repairs and just a little too new looking to blend. The rug that tied the living room together had a square in the corner that (Y/N) could easily pick out as the cat's favorite place to flex their claws, threads pulled out of order with the design faded.
The house was far from perfect, but (Y/N) doesn't think she's ever found a more beautiful home.
It was more than clear that this was a place people gathered and wanted to stay. Everything was lived in and loved to the point of visible wear, a story going along with every chip in the flooring and scratch in the paint. (Y/N) doesn't think there was ever a time in her house growing up that she felt like this, always feeling tense in the common rooms as to ensure she didn't mar the perfect her parents had designed for the house. Her only point of sanctuary was her room, but even that space was subject to their jurisdiction and they could change anything they wanted should they not approve.
"Did you want me to take that for you, hun?"
The gentle voice brought (Y/N) from the comfortable hovel she crafted in her mind, keeping her from concentrating too hard on what was going on around her. She flicked her eyes to Mrs. Twist, who held a soft slipped smile on her face that was only rivaled by the tender look in her irises.
(Y/N) tightened her grip on the duffle bag still in her hands, feeling guilty that she had made his mom think she needed to take it when she was the visitor in her home. "No, thank you. I don't mind holding it, but thank you." She cringed inwardly as the second chirp of gratitude left her mouth.
The small smile on Mrs. Twist's lips never faltered, only softening some at the edges as (Y/N) spoke. Her hands were clasped in front of her chest, hovering over her heart, "(Y/N), right? I'm Anne, Harry's mum."
"That's me," (Y/N) let out with a shaky breath, feigning a relaxed smile, "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Twist, Harry's told me so much about you. Thank you for having me."
She channeled every bit of etiquette her parents drilled into her from a young age. She hoped she was giving a proper first impression, even though she worried her heart was about to beat out of her chest and create an embarrassing mess on the floor.
"I doubt he's talked about me the way he's talked to me about you," Mrs. Twist laughed, flicking her gaze to where Harry shrugged off her comment (she was right, why should he try to hide it?), "And, please, call me Anne."
Harry drifted closer to (Y/N), settling a comforting hand on the small of her back. "I think 'm going to show her around the house, and get settled in," he said, his words directed to his mother.
Anne shot the pair of them an extra smile, ushering them off with a promise of starting dinner soon so they could have a chance to get comfortable. Harry looked to (Y/N), farther away from him than he would have liked, with a raised brow. She nodded to him with her quiet smile still stuck on her face; she liked the idea of having a breather, and getting a moment alone with Harry.
He pulled her along towards the staircase that bordered the room, intending on taking her to the upper level where they would be sleeping during their stay as he tried his best to tuck her underneath his arm. (Y/N) stopped him with a delicate hand on his arm, Harry slowing down and pinning his attention on her.
"I need to use the restroom," she whispered, trying to conceal her request from his mom in the other room as if she cared.
"Okay," Harry slowly nodded, nudging her towards the hallway that stretched adjacent to the kitchen, "'S the first door on the left. I'll be waiting in the kitchen right across, 'kay?"
He pulled the duffle bag she had been clinging to from her grasp, carefully untangling her cramped fingers. (Y/N) nodded and chirped out a quiet thank you before following his directions down the hall.
The tiled bathroom held the same air as the rest of the house: homey and safe. (Y/N) sat on the closed toilet lid, slumping into herself as her shoulders deflated. She hadn't needed the amenities as much as she needed the privacy of the washroom, grateful for the silence that filled the room. Granted, it wasn't much like the rest of the house was teeming with thunders of noise and loud conversations; the noise was all in her head. Nonetheless, the cleanly stillness of the bathroom provided a solace from her tangled thoughts.
She had made it through the hardest part, she tried to tell herself. That first moment was going to be the hardest of the entire visit, with tonight's dinner coming in a close second. Still, she had survived it and the rest of the trip would only get easier now that the first impressions were established.
Giving herself a few more moments, (Y/N) fussed over he appearance in the mirror. She attempted the tame the wild strands of hair that stuck out from their designated spots from the amount of times she ran her hand through the strands. It was only after she fixed her part and righted a rebellious piece of hair that she heard the echoing sounds of Harry's voice. And he was saying her name.
(Y/N) knew eavesdropping was less than virtuous and a surefire way to get her feelings hurt, but she couldn't find it in herself to stop from pressing her ear delicately to the door in hopes of getting a clearer translation of his words. Instead, the muddled noises were just a hair louder, the audio only clearing up when she had dared crack the door open less than an inch. The motion was silent, allowing (Y/N) to go unnoticed as she listened in to her boyfriend across the hall.
"She's a little shy," Harry said, voice low as if in anticipation of her listening in, "Jus' give her a little bit and she'll open up. She's been really nervous about meeting you."
His mother made a small cooing sound, the kind one would make when seeing a pitiful puppy. "I hope she knows she's got nothing to be worried about. I already think she's lovely," Anne interjected, sounding a lot like the pep talks her son has been spewing the last week.
"I know, I've told her that," he sighed, the sound of feet shuffling over tile following after. Harry hesitated for a moment over his next sentiment, (Y/N) able to imagine the familiar way he would have crossed his arms over his chest and played with his lip ring as he found his words. "I don't want to say too much, because 's not m'story to tell. Her mum and dad,"—(Y/N) couldn't help but tense up at the mention of her parents, worried Harry was going to spill every gritty detail he could—"they weren't like you, mum. So, she worries a lot about these things. Jus' be patient with her, I promise she'll open up. (Y/N) jus' really wants you to like her."
(Y/N) shuffled herself back into the bathroom, silently closing the cracked door. She moved on autopilot, flushing the unused toilet to keep up the facade of her bathroom visit before starting the faucet with cold water streaming through. She felt grateful that Harry hadn't gone into specifics regarding her family, and had even done the hardest part of starting the conversation so she wouldn't have to. Still, she couldn't help but feel a tint of embarrassment knowing that Mrs. Twist—Anne, she corrected, that was going to be a hard habit to kick—now had an inkling of an ideas as to why (Y/N) acted as she did, no matter how limited the information.
If not for the fear of smudging her makeup and making herself look crazy, (Y/N) would have splashed the cool water over her face. Instead, she settled for running her hands underneath the stream, letting the water wade over her wrists with her thrumming pulse echoing under the thin skin. She took a deep breath before exiting the washroom, bundling her fingers together in an effort to hide the tremor that rocked the appendages. Schooling her features into a smile, she was overtly aware of the way their conversation had obviously shifted to something else, leaving behind the subject of herself.
Harry excused himself as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, Anne sending them off with a promise to let them know when dinner would be ready.
He guided (Y/N) up the stairs with a hand on the small of her back, rings fingers pressing into her spine in a reassuring weight. "Well, that's the downstairs bathroom and the kitchen," Harry laughed, taking on his tour guide role, "I don't know if mum set up the extra room for us upstairs or if we're sharing m'bedroom, but either way we'll be staying up here. Gemma's room is here"—he gestured to one of the three rooms branching off from the cozy loft that greeted them at the top of the stairs—"And this one is mine."
With the duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Harry reached around (Y/N) and twisted the doorknob to his childhood bedroom, ushering (Y/N) inside ahead of him. Flicking the lights on, she was greeted with the exact replica of what she would have imagined a teenage Harry spending all of his time in. His bedroom at his house now was nothing more than a grown up version of what this one was; the double bed wrapped in the same dark bedding as the set back home, only this one was made nicely and lacked the satin-sheen that made up his pillowcases. His walls were painted a muted, dove grey with posters of different bands and artists pasted to the surface. Sketchbooks were piled high beside his bed, pages sticking out at odd angles with the covers sporting his name stretched over the top.
"Mum always tells me she's going to clean this up and at least get me a bigger bed for when I stay here," Harry smiled, dropping their shared duffle bag beside the door he was slowly closing, "But every time I come back, 's all the same. Same with Gem's room—I don't think she can do it."
Affection edged his words as he came to stand behind (Y/N), wrapping his arms around her waist. "I think that's sweet," (Y/N) settled, recalling the way she had to plead with her own parents to not mess with anything in her room after she moved out, "She wants you two to know that you always have a place here."
Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tightening his hold around her middle. "'S very sweet," he agreed, voice quiet despite it was only the two of them in the room, "What do y'think so far?"
(Y/N) scanned over his bedroom, eyes lingering over the Spice Girls themed notebook that was supposed to be hidden under another duo of notebooks in the stack. "I didn't know you liked the Spice Girls."
His hold on her released as she drifted towards the pile of sketchbooks, letting out a laugh. "Gemma got me that as a joke, wanted to see if I'd really use it."
She eased into the edge of his mattress, her earlier nerves and anxieties melting from her system now that Harry was there to give her full attention to. She reached for the flimsy book, the cover tattered and dusted with pencil marks and graphite shading "Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I know you had one" she asked, peeking at him through the frame of her lashes.
Harry made slow work of joining her on his bed, getting a good look at her in his childhood bedroom. It was moments like this that he wished they had met sooner; under the perfect circumstances, he could picture him having brought her home to "work on a school project" in his room, although his mum would insist that they leave the door open. He could see her spending late nights here until their curfews were in effect, and even then—if she had let him of course—he would have figured a way to sneak her in so they could kiss on his bed for hours before taking her home in the middle of the night.
He hummed, feigning deep thought over the question though he was sure the lopsided curl of his lips was enough to give him away, "I liked the one that wore those pastels, and little dresses. Her hair was always up really cute." Harry lowered himself to sit beside her on his bed, denting the mattress and tucking her under his arm.
(Y/N) perked up at his answer, pointing at the smiling blonde that was dusted in a shade of grey graphite. "Really?! You mean Baby Spice?" she bubbled, "Sarah showed me them after we moved in together, and she's been my favorite since, too! I like how she dresses, it's cute."
Her answer didn't surprise Harry at all, he figured the pastel pinks and mini dresses would be her top pick. Her fingertips lingering over the flimsy cover caught his eye, the pages flicking over her skin as she toyed with the edge. "Going to look through it?"
"Only if its okay with you," (Y/N) rushed, pulling her hands away from the battered cover she was about to flip open.
"Of course, y'can, love," Harry smiled, squeezed his arm around her shoulders, "Jus' be warned that I wasn't very good until after I got certified for tattooing."
(Y/N) puttered off protests, telling him she was more than sure that he had always been good, that he was talented through and through. She was familiar with flicking through his sketchbooks, Harry always letting her go through them to get her opinion on specific pieces or just to give her something to look at when her phone was too boring to distract her and he had things to finish at the shop. Majority of the pages were his attempts at hyper-realistic drawings, a style he now strayed from in favor of working with his simple line work and fine details.
Glancing at the date at the bottom, (Y/N) flicked her gaze to where Harry was peering over her shoulder with a sour expression. "Did you know you were going to be a tattoo artist by this point?" She tapped her finger over the date in the corner.
Harry shrugged, the motion felt behind her, "I guess. I think I was already looking into schools around then, but I think took me a couple more months to really see it and start getting serious."
The style of his art evolved with every page (Y/N) flipped through, a visible shift occurring halfway through as the pieces looked a lot more like the ones Harry focussed his time on now. Though it was clear the sketches were still amateur, especially compared to what he was capable of now, (Y/N) still stood by her belief that he had always been talented, he only got better and better the more he worked.
"That looks like what you did for my tattoo," (Y/N) smiled, pointing out a small floret that was shoved to the side next to a large vision of a simplistic beach scene.
Harry hummed a noise, his head tilting as he looked over the drawing. A smile bloomed over his features as he picked out the petals of something that looked almost like a lavender sprig before he got bored with the idea and left it unfinished.
"Yeah, it is," Harry sighed, "'S like I was practicing for you before I even knew." With her distracted by the flip book of his art, Harry dropped a kiss to her shoulder with his arm falling to loop around her waist. "How are y'feeling so far, love? About everything."
(Y/N) flicking fingers slowed, the tips lingering on each page just a hair longer than before. "I'm okay," she shrugged, willing herself to the believe those same words, "The hardest part is over, and now I just need to relax. Right?"
While she was working on trusting herself and the plans she formulated, she still sought out Harry's approval. She needed that extra reassurance that she was on the right track.
"Right, love bug," Harry agreed, dipping his head and pressing an indulgent kiss to her lips, "Mum already thinks the world of you, by the way. She told me she thinks y'look very cute, and even prettier than the pictures."
(Y/N) smiled at his words, not feeling so bad now that she knew just the bare bones of why she was so shy. If she still thought she was nice and approved of the outfit she had traveled in, the new information hadn't swayed her any. Another glacier of her anxiety sunk away at the thought.
Still, she had one lingering question she was worried about the answer to.
"You said we'd be sleeping up here, right?" she asked after a beat, marking her page in his sketchbook so she could return later.
"Yeah, why?" A crease pinched at Harry's brow at her line of questioning.
She plucked at her bottom lip with her teeth, hoping this didn't come off wrong. "Are we allowed to sleep in the same room?"
She had previously assumed they would be separated for their stay, (Y/N) having had to calm herself at the thought of being in an unfamiliar place where she was already on edge, without Harry there to end the night with. She more than understood that this was his mother's home and if she wanted them to be separated, (Y/N) wouldn't complain, even if she didn't see herself getting a good night's rest without him.
Harry only shrugged, taking the book from her and tossing it to the stack it had come from. "I think so," he mused, giving her a look with raised brows, "Is that okay?"
"Well, is it okay with your mom? I don't want to disrespect her or anything."
A lopsided smile took Harry's features, dipping a dimple deep in his cheek as he gazed at her. She was too precious to be real.
"Mum's fine with it, love. We're adults, she understands that," he reassured, dropping a kiss to her cheek, "'S not like she doesn't know what we get up to."
Horror struck (Y/N)'s features, dropping her jaw and pinching at her brows, "You've told her the stuff we do?!" Her words came in the form of a whispered shout, carried on a wave of embarrassment.
He let out a loud laugh at her assumption, unable to do anything more than to shake his head as he let it all out. "No, of course I haven't," he said around a peal of laughter, "We've just been together for almost a year and have had more than enough time to have spent the night with one another. She understands that, and doesn't mind if we share a room."
(Y/N) felt her blood pumping behind her cheeks, still hating the idea that Anne could assume as to what she and her son had done. At the very least, she would make sure that they kept their PDA at an all time low, ensuring they didn't make her feel even an ounce uncomfortable.
"Relax, darling," Harry smiled, the curl of his lips audible, "'S not a big deal, 'kay?"—he waited for a nod of her head before he continued, swiping back a piece of hair that had fallen in her face—"Good. Now, dinner's not supposed to be ready for another hour or so, did y'want to take a nap before?"
She rolled her lips between her teeth, peeking up at Harry through the frame of her lashes, "Are you going to stay and nap with me?"
His fingertips traced over her jawline before settling with his palm cradling the side of her neck. The lilypad of his irises shone with affection tinting the gaze. "Do y'want me to?"
If he kept looking at her like that, (Y/N) decided that this visit was going to only get easier and easier.
Working the sleep from her muscles, (Y/N) followed Harry down the stairs with her socked feet padding over the flooring. He had woken her up only ten minutes beforehand, letting her know his mom had peeked in and told him that dinner was ready. She was much too tired to feel any bit of sheepishness over the fact Mrs. Twist had peeked in and saw her snuggled so closely to Harry; at least she knew for sure she didn't mind them sharing the bed tonight.
Once they reached the landing together, Harry reached for (Y/N)'s hand and entwined their fingers. She blanched at the contact, hyperaware of his mom in the other room and her own vow to keep their displays of affection to a minimum while in her house.
"Harry," she whispered, a scolding tone to her voice as she attempted to wriggle her hand out of his hold, "Not in front of your mom. It's not polite."
Breathing a soft laugh, Harry had to try his best not to pull his darling in for a kiss. "Love, I promise she doesn't mind. Don't forget, she already saw us upstairs, I don't think some handholding is really going to bother her."
"Still," (Y/N) pouted.
"I promise," Harry repeated, bumping her hip with his, "She thinks it's cute. And, I think it'd make her happy seeing me happy."
(Y/N) knew she was supposed to be fighting off his insistence, keeping true to her self-appointed ruling, but how was she supposed to do that when he said things like that? How was she supposed to think clearly when he confessed that simply touching her made him happy?
A lopsided smile tugged at the corner of Harry's lips when (Y/N) lagged in response; he knew he won. Tightening his hold on her hand, he dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Thank you," he murmured against the skin, hoping the words erupted the same kind of butterflies in her tummy that he had.
She followed after him in a daze, letting Harry guide her by the hand into the dining room. A long table, scratched evident in the legs and dents in the chairs that matched the rest of the lived-in feel of the house was laden with food; the whole nine yards Harry had told her about. In the center was a serving bowl of pasta, the ceramic a pastel yellow hue that was brightened by the white sauce coating the noodles. Three place settings were fixed around the table, a duo sitting together on one side while the other held one across from them.
Anne scuttled into the dining room with an additional pan that held a pile of cheesey breadsticks, the shapes uneven enough to show that she had made them herself. She beamed at (Y/N) who lingered at the end of the table farthest from her with her son, "Harry told me you liked pasta, so I tried my best with this new recipe I found! I also made some breadsticks just in case, and I know they look kind of funny, but I promise they're good."
"Looks good, mum," Harry smiled, nudging (Y/N) towards the side with two place settings laid out, "Thank you."
(Y/N) nodded her head to show her agreeance with Harry, a smile brightening her features. Anne bolted off into the kitchen one more time, citing a need to grab everyone something to drink before she disappeared through the threshold.
"What did I tell you?" Harry whispered, amusement tinting his voice as he settled in beside her, "She's planning on making this entire week about you, 'm sure."
Mrs. Twist was back in the room before (Y/N) could respond though she detested the thought of his mom making her birthday week about anything other than herself. She carried a pitcher of what looked to be lemonade, not even hesitating before she started making the rounds to fill each of the glasses set up on the table.
"Let me know if you need anything, okay, (Y/N)?" she offered, settling a gentle hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder before rounding the table to her own spot.
A look of mock offense struck Harry's features, rising from his chair in an effort to reach for the display of breadsticks, "And what about me? What if I need anything?"
"You know where to find it," Anne pointed out, raising a brow in his direction, "(Y/N) is a guest, Harry."
Harry gave a playful roll of his eyes as he piled a duo of the sticks onto (Y/N)'s plate before serving himself. Anne's face didn't twitch from the amused affection that tinted her features, barely paying the playing act of rebellion any mind as she twisted lengths of pasta onto her own china. (Y/N) couldn't even begin to list out the differences over what would have occurred if she had done that at her parent's table.
Quiet chatter over the agenda for the week rose up between Harry and his mom, (Y/N) distracted by the way Harry seamlessly went about filling her plate first before moving onto his own.
"I wanted to show (Y/N) around at some point this week, if that's okay," Harry interjected, settling down in his seat once (Y/N) had a little bit of everything on her plate.
Anne perked up at the idea, brows raised with a bright smile on her face. "Oh, are you going to show her where you got your first tattoo?" she questioned, a teasing light to her eyes.
Harry rolled his eyes with mirth, twirling a fork through the pasta. "I don't even think that garage is still there," he shook his head.
(Y/N) vaguely recalled the story he had told her, where a friend's older brother who worked as a mechanic invited a teenage Harry and his friends over after the shop closed. He had breezed through the story, telling her it was a bad amateur tattoo but after the first experience, he couldn't get enough.
"It is," Anne quipped, shooting her gaze towards (Y/N), "Do you know that story?"
Swallowing the small bite of pasta in her mouth, (Y/N) nodded her head. "I do, yeah. Harry told me it was done by a friend's brother in the back of a mechanic's, right?"
She nodded her head, sipping on her glass of lemonade before flicking her mischievous gaze towards Harry. "Did he tell you how infected it got a week later? That his friend had only used water to disinfect the area?"
(Y/N)'s jaw dropped, having heard time and time again how important aftercare was for new tattoos from Harry himself. He knew well and good how dangerous amateur tattoos could be, uncertified artists with their knowledge barely going far enough to know the difference between tattoo ink and pen ink. He barely let her dress herself after he did her tattoo, worried that her clothing would irritate the space, and he had allowed his first tattoo to go sour after only a week?
"Are you serious? Harry, that's so dangerous!"
"I know, I know," Harry drawled, "I was fifteen, I had no idea what I was doing. I jus' wanted a star on m'arm, that's all, I didn't think that was going to happen."
Turning her incredulous look to his mom, (Y/N) looked for some kind of backup or reassurance that she wasn't overreacting. Mrs. Twist shrugged her shoulders, "I told him the same thing, and he's always said that exact thing back. He's just lucky it got cleared up before I took him to a doctor."
"And you didn't do anything like that again, right, H?"
A beat of silence passed.
When she looked across to where Anne was drinking some of her lemonade around a sly smile, (Y/N) had her answer.
"He did it again?" she pressed, her words directed towards his mom.
She held up her hand, palm out with all five fingers spread apart. "Five more times, actually," she mused, tossing a look of gentle disappointment to Harry, "And I have a story for each one."
(Y/N) intently listened as Anne dropped into her next story, starting with Harry's second tattoo that was an even bigger surprise than the first. She jumped when she felt the span of Harry's palm drop onto her thigh, his fingers wrapping around the thick of it as (Y/N) settled into his hold. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the small smile that spread over his lips, contentment swimming through his irises as he watched his family interact.
She liked that thought, (Y/N) decided. That she was a part of his family.
"Go 'head and get ready for bed, love. I'll be right behind you, 'm gonna help clean up a little first."
Harry beamed at her, his smile bright and dimples deep before dipping his head and dotting his lips against her cheek. (Y/N) couldn't help the blood that warmed behind her cheeks at the affection, aware of the eyes on them from across the table. No matter how many times Harry assured her his mom didn't mind, it was going to take time to get used to such open affection in front of family.
"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" she offered, extending her gaze to Anne on the other side of the table. She would have felt guilty if she jumped at the chance to leave while they kept working, especially since the dinner was brought together for her sake.
"We'll be fine, hun, don't worry," Anne reassured, the soft smile she had become familiar with throughout the meal fixed on her lips.
(Y/N) gave a polite nod of her head, mouth curled into a small grin. "Thank you again for this, Anne. Dinner was lovely."
Mrs. Twist waved off her gratitude, telling her not to worry about it and that she was more than happy to do this for her. "Thank you for coming; I can't wait to spend more time with you this week."
With a bloated heart in her chest, (Y/N) couldn't flounder together what to say in response. It seemed his mom was trying to do everything in her power to make sure she was welcome here, and into their lives, which made (Y/N) a little too emotional. Instead, she offered a nod of her head and a quiet me too before rising from her seat.
"Y'remember where the upstairs bathroom is?" Harry asked as she pushed her chair in, his gaze lingering on her form as he collected the dishes.
"Next to your bedroom, right?"
"That's it," he affirmed with a smile on his lips, nodding his head toward the staircase behind her, "I grabbed some of your things while y'were sleeping, but if y'need anything, your suitcases are still by the door."
After peeping out a thank you to him, Harry disappeared with his hands full into the kitchen, his mom following right after. She heard the sound of water filling the sink before she started up the stairs. Though she was alone in the space, (Y/N) didn't feel alone; the reach of Anne's acceptance and kindness filling the room and making (Y/N) feel not so out of place in the midst of all the newness she was taking in.
Rifling through the clothes Harry had pulled from their luggage for her, the smile fixed on her face couldn't be stifled. The curl had been there since his mom started listing off the handful of times he came home with surprise tattoos and the few coverups he's had to get in the years since. It was only when Harry pleaded with her not to bring out the baby pictures and photos from his teen years that she stopped (to which she promised (Y/N) she would answer any questions when Harry wasn't in the room, Gemma more than happy to enlist her help once she knew the plan).
(Y/N) almost didn't notice the lack of toiletries as she stepped into the bathroom, Harry having forgotten to pull the small bag from their suitcases when he had grabbed her pajamas. After settling the few things she did have on the counter, she retraced her steps down the stairs, the socks on her feet muffling the descent.
Though (Y/N) promised herself she wouldn't eavesdrop again after the slip from this morning, she couldn't help herself when another uttering of her name came from the kitchen. She stopped in front of the duo of cases that awaited her in the foyer, hidden from the kitchen but close enough she could hear them.
"She's very sweet, H, I really like her," Anne praised, voice soft and motherly, "I feel like she's getting comfortable with me." The smile on her face was audible in her tone, (Y/N) feeling proud that she was the one that could draw that from her.
"Me too," Harry murmured, just barely heard over the sound of the running sink, "She's really special."
"Just special?" his mom pressed, the kind of knowing undercurrent to her words that only a mother could possess.
"I—She's... We're—," Harry floundered for words, a sheepish tint cradling the ones he managed to get out. (Y/N) could only imagine the shy smile that curled his lips, one he rarely held since he was so confident in himself. "She's jus' really special, and I've never been as happy as I am with her," he decided on, his words acting as rose-hued clouds that floated out towards (Y/N) and urged to swathe her in their feather soft hold, "I think—'M sure that this is it for me. She's it for me."
Before (Y/N) could even properly process his confession, Anne perked up with her own gasp before squealing out Harry's name. "Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you! She's perfect for you, I can tell how much you love each other."
A breathy laugh fell from Harry's lips before he swallowed, a lump in his throat forming that could be heard in his voice, "I haven't told her yet, but I've been looking at places for us."—a cooing gasp sounding from his mom—"And, after we get settled in wherever we pick, I want to get ready to propose. We haven't been together for too long yet, so I want to give her some time, but I don't want to wait. I jus' want to be with her."
"Harry," his mom cooed, her voice clogged with the sound of tears. A moment of silence passed and (Y/N) only hoped that she was hugging Harry tight enough for the both of them.
The rest of the conversation was shared in whispered sentiments that were too quiet to be heard over the running water and the pounding of (Y/N)'s heart. But, she knew she didn't need to hear anything more, the bit she already collected being enough to fill her lungs with a garden and head with clouds entirely too soft to hold anything but love. As if on autopilot, she made quick work of grabbing her bag from their luggage before padding back up the stairs. The sheen in her eyes only dared to spill over when she was finally alone behind the protection of the bathroom door.
Happy tears leaked from her eyes and strayed down her cheeks in sparkling runs. His words echoed in her head over and over; she was it for him and he wanted to live with her and propose. (Y/N) ran through the conversation as many times as she could, hoping to commit the timbre of his voice to memory, the specific words he used tucked away in her heart, and every detail cradled in the back of her mind for the rest of her life.
(Y/N) wasn't sure how long she sat with her head in her hands and a large grin stretched over her lips, time barely passing as far as she was concerned until a knock sounded on the door.
"Y'alright, love? Need any help with the shower or anything?"
It was Harry. Just the sound of his voice was enough to refresh the memory playing like a movie on loop in her head. The voice of the love of her life; the man who wanted to marry her.
"I'm perfect, Harry. Thank you."
(Y/N) all but flung herself into Harry's childhood bed, where he laid with his chest bare and phone in his hand as he waited on her.
The green of his eyes were wiped clean of his signature eyeliner, leaving the only the forest-colored flecks to draw her in. The length of his hair was pulled back into a bun, though the same pesky strands he always wrestled with did their job of escaping the bundle and framing his face. He let out a soft ooph as she thudded against his chest, only a second passing before she had her limbs wrapped around him and face tucked into his neck.
"Well hello to you too, lovebug," Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Hi, Harry," she sighed, having to make a real effort to keep her emotions from making themselves known.
"What's all this about, hm? Thought y'wouldn't be so tired since y'had your nap," he crooned, voice as soft as the fingers that traveled through her damp hair.
She shook her head against his tattooed collarbones, pressing a kiss to a rose inked on the skin. "I just love you, that's all."
"I love you more, darling. I mean it."
(Y/N) didn't have it in her to argue. Besides, she would have the rest of her life to prove him wrong.
!!!!!!!!! I really hope you enjoyed reading that thank you for taking the time!!! this has been a long time coming and while its not exactly what I pictured I still really love it and feel like its very aster so I hope u feel the same!!!! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any ideas or requests of anything yourself please send them in !!!!
shut your mouth
i've never written harry as what he actually is, but with all this tour content, it was hard not to — this literally has no substance & it’s all over the place, but i hope you enjoy anyway! here’s my masterlist for any new readers/followers <3
as always, please reblog / leave feedback 💋
word count: 2.5k
warnings: language, mediocrely-written sexual content
• • •
Dimmed lights, pulsing atmosphere, all eyes on him.
Once he's on stage, he's electric. Effortlessly commanding the crowd because he knows they would all fall to their knees if he asked them to. Happily parading around with boas and flowers because he knows they love to see him free of judgement. Giving glances to particular people in the audience because he knows it will make them scream.
He holds the reigns. He has the control. He knows it.
Off stage, however, no one quite knows who he is. His normal lifestyle has been veiled with a cloak of privacy for over a decade and he doesn't plan on lifting it any time soon.
Yet everyone can't help but wonder what Harry Styles does when the show ends and he runs behind the black curtains. Does he make a beeline straight to his dressing room shower? Or does he collapse on the nearest couch with exhaustion and fall asleep?
Well, the answer depends on his mood.
Tonight, as he hurries down the stairs and towards those mysterious curtains, you know exactly where, who, and what he's after.
Bathroom. You. Sex.
It could honestly be considered a tradition at this point. Granted, it's only Harry's fifth show, but there's no sign of stopping since he has to let out his remaining adrenaline somehow.
You know exactly where to be so he can find you. As soon as he gets backstage, he'll take the first left down the long hallway and another left through the catering room. He'll then head straight to the door that's labeled STYLES DRESSING ROOM where you will be waiting for him patiently on the leather couch.
It's where you are now and where he's about to be.
Five knocks sound from the other side of the door as you scroll mindlessly through your phone. You don't need to guess who it is. Years of knowing him and he'll always feel familiar even when not seen or heard.
The door swings open and in comes Harry with his black mask on and a bouquet of flowers in his hand, running a dry towel over his sweaty forehead and hair. His eyes crinkle with a smile when he sees you and he jogs up to you while sliding his mask down, bending his knees slightly to lift you off the ground. His arms wrap completely around your waist as he buries his head into your neck to give your skin damp kisses.
He smells like a middle school boy, but the way he's mumbling words of affection in your ear leaves you not caring at all.
"Baby," he mumbles with a slight whine.
You smile while he nips little marks on your pulse point. "Yeah?"
"You up for it tonight?" he scratchily asks, facing you head-on and giving you the flowers.
You nod eagerly and accept his gift as well as his needy kiss to your lips. "Lead the way, loverboy."
He takes your hand in his and heads towards the closed door at the farthest wall. You walk past his suitcases and bags stuffed full of his essentials, then stop behind him when he turns the knob and opens it. The fluorescent lights immediately brighten the room with a single flick of Harry's finger on the switch.
It's a bathroom that's connected to his dressing room, nothing short of luxury for the man who sold out the high capacity stadium within a day. A long, marble counter with polished swirls stands out to you first, along with a pristine mirror that takes up the entire back wall. The modern black and white theme is sleek with a touch of seductiveness — the perfect setting for your tryst with him.
Yours and Harry's steps tread into the empty bathroom, the click of his heeled boots echoing on the porcelain floor. It's surreal to hear the faraway commotion of fans leaving the venue from inside such an intimate location. Before long, there will be people looking for him, wondering where he's gone off to.
It'll be a secret shared only between you and him.
"Where do you want me?" Harry speaks up after closing and locking the door.
"I want you on the counter," you instantly respond, setting the flowers and your purse next to the sink.
"You want my bare arse on the counter?" he asks with a smirk. "S'gonna be bloody freezing."
Rolling your eyes, you begin tying your hair up. "Yeah, and I don't need your smart mouth to go with it."
He just licks his bottom lip and starts sliding down and unclipping his suspenders, teasingly and one at a time. His sheen, orange blouse sticks to places on his sweaty skin and the way it's almost completely unbuttoned makes you even more impatient to touch him.
Once the blouse lays fully open over his glistening torso, you take a step forward and run your hands over his firm chest, then slip the material off the rest of the way so you can set it on the counter for him to sit on. The hair that grows on the top part of his sternum is damp and his stomach juts out slightly with each exhale. He's still breathing heavily from the physical exertion he participated in for over an hour on stage.
"Now take your pants off," you say.
Harry obeys, slipping out of his high waisted trousers and revealing his black boxers. His hands smooth over your waist and even further to your ass as he toes his boots off, but you stop him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He visibly swallows. "Just let me touch you. I don't want to play any games tonight."
"Do you remember what I told you before you went on stage?" you question slowly.
"Yes, darling, but I really don't-"
"No 'buts'," you interject. "What did I tell you, Harry?"
He clenches his jaw and flexes his hands. "That you're in control tonight," he replies, giving in just enough that you know he'll listen to your commands from here on out.
You trail your fingers across his navel. "Correct. So get on the counter and shut your mouth."
He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and hops up to sit on the counter, his thighs thickening and the evident bulge beneath his boxers shifting, causing him to faintly groan.
Seeing Harry obediently sat there, head leaned back against the mirror with his throat bobbing in lustful desperation, ignites an ardent flame in the pit of your belly. The fact that he doesn't mind submitting to you when you're in need of a little control fuels your intense need to dominate him.
What's love if not wanting him knocked down a peg or two on occasion?
"All those people screaming for you," you begin as you lightly trace his abs, "but who do you come back to every night?"
"You, for fuck's sake," he rasps. "Always you, I don't care about anyone else."
You squeeze Harry's cock through is boxers, triggering an immediate whimper from his open mouth.
"And what would they say if they knew you were about to beg for me in this bathroom? Hm?" You brush your lips across his jawbone. "If they found out the confident man they just saw on stage is a throbbing mess for me behind closed doors?"
"Tell me," he breathes out.
You hum. "They'd say Harry Styles is a whore."
His fingers curl almost painfully as he restrains himself from touching you. "Yeah? In what way?"
You unzip your dress and shimmy out of it. "Let's find out."
Once you're in nothing but your thong, you have Harry lift you up so you can straddle him on the counter. He was right, it's freezing against your knees, but right now all you can focus on is feeling his cock straining his boxers under your clenching core.
You grind against him, feeling his stomach and thighs tense. "Will you be a good boy for me?" you ask while gripping his wrists.
"When am I not?" His eyes hungrily dance over your entire figure. "'M always so fuckin' good for you."
"Then open your mouth," you order.
Harry shifts in his spot. "I believe you told me to shut it."
You move your hands to apply pressure to the sides of his neck. "You will only speak if I ask a question, got it?"
He nods and parts his pink lips. You lean forward and spit right on his tongue, then run the pad of your thumb across the ridge of his bottom row of teeth.
"Swallow." He does, letting a slow smirk take over his face. "Good," you praise. "Now let me fuck you."
Harry breathes out a shocked laugh. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stick your thumb in it to stop him.
"I said shut your mouth," you repeat, clumsily taking off your lace thong, "and let me fuck you."
He swirls his tongue around your thumb and grips the edge of the counter with white knuckles. You help him take his boxers off and throw them on top of your purse, watching his cock spring to his stomach. The tip is an aching shade of red and it's already dripping with precum.
You hold onto his shoulders and lift up, the bones in your knees hurting from the hard surface of the counter. Sex with him has happened in places that have left you with bruises that weren't just from him.
His deep inhales and exhales can be felt on your chest as you grab his cock and line yourself up.
"Condom," Harry suddenly blurts out breathlessly. "Fuck, we almost forgot."
You groan with frustration because now the built up tension has rapidly dissipated. "Well do you have one?" you ask impatiently.
"In one of my bags in the dressing room," he replies.
You're both naked, sat on the bathroom counter, ready to fuck, and yet you both forget the one thing you need.
Need. Do you really need it? The way you're both looking at each other with hesitant and almost knowing expressions begs the huge question.
"Say something," you speak, breaking the awkward silence.
"Oh, now you want me to talk?" Harry teases. "You want me to put a baby in you, is that it?"
You smack his chest maybe a little too hard. "I didn't say that!"
He grasps your hand and leans in closer. "Then give me one good reason why I shouldn't fuck you raw right now in this bathroom for everyone to hear."
That's one way to put it.
You distract your eyes and admire his painted nails. "Do you want a baby?"
Harry shrugs. "Think we've been together long enough, yeah? I'll be done with tour in a few months and then we can hide away for a bit. Start a family."
You contemplate. You've been with him for four years, you're engaged, and you're pretty sure he'd be the best dad in the world. You can't think of one reason not to let him get you pregnant.
And maybe you would like it to happen somewhere more romantic, but the way he looks right now can't possibly be replicated.
"Okay," you whisper. It's embarrassing how easily you've let him have all the control after promises of the complete opposite.
"That settles it, then." His hands gravitate to your hips and he squeezes them reassuringly. "Hop on, babe."
You laugh and sink down on his cock, feeling the immediate stretch and burn of it. Both of you moan at the feeling and find places on each other's skin to touch. You place your forehead against his and begin rocking back and forth, Harry's hands guiding your pelvis to his.
"That's it," he praises, leaving messy kisses to the corner of your mouth. "Always so fuckin' wet and tight for me."
You capture his lips as his hands move to your ass, kneading and slapping the skin, making you grind faster. His hands then roam the expanse of your bare back, leaving scratches and sensual caresses in their wake.
You pull back and notice slight remnants of your red lipstick on his lips. "You did so well tonight, Harry."
"Mm, you liked seeing me be a whore on stage?"
You nod. "They go crazy for you, you know that? If you even look their way, they lose their minds."
"Fuck," he raspily moans. "Makes me go crazy, too."
You choke out a moan when his thumb starts rubbing tight circles on your clit. The pressure in your belly grows as he coaxes kisses from your parted mouth, deep and beautifully numbing.
Your orgasm is approaching fast as you continue riding him, your walls pulsating and the mirror fogging up from your heavy breaths. Every growl or whine that comes from Harry's throat builds and builds the knotted tension inside.
"Cum for me, baby," Harry drawls, jerking his hips up to meet with yours. "Look at me when you do."
You meet his shining eyes and with one last thrust and slap of skin, you unravel on top of him as he reaches his peak at the same time. It's sensory overload to feel him to actually cum inside of you, everything warm and sticky while you ride out the final waves of your pleasure.
Harry softly groans into your neck, his large hands pressing into your shoulder blades. "F-fuckin' hell, I love you."
You lazily kiss his neck. "Do you... do you think that did it?"
"Bloody hope so," he responds hoarsely. "Missouri is known for being the baby making state, right?"
You scoff a laugh. "That's definitely not true and you definitely just made that up."
He chuckles and sucks light marks onto your breasts. He then looks up at you under his eyelashes. "Well if this works out, then I have no choice but to officially declare my statement to be true. We'd have to come back here every time if we want more babies."
It suddenly hits you.
"What the fuck did we just do?" you ask incredulously.
Harry gives a cheeky smile and shrugs nonchalantly. "Dunno. Spontaneous shit. Baby making. Just a typical night in Missouri, y'know?"
You grab his cheeks and kiss him. "You're insane." Another kiss. "We're both insane."
He slides out of you and wraps you in a warm hug. "You're right, but I have so much fun with you."
You hum thoughtfully. "That's sweet of you to say."
He hooks his chin over your shoulder and plays with the ends of your hair. "My soulmate," he tiredly mumbles. "You love me best."
You both stay like that for awhile, basking in each other's presence as you drown the world out. He moves his hands to draw patterns on your back, the feather light touch of his fingers soothing you. Everything with him feels right.
After a few more peaceful and intimate minutes, you say, "You should start selling hats that say 'Harry is my baby daddy'."
Harry leans his head back and playfully rolls his eyes with a lopsided smile. "Shut your mouth."
an old lover’s hippie music || h. styles
warnings: mentions of a break up, alcohol, swearing, kissing, not thoroughly proofread
word count: 2.5k
summary: after a messy breakup, you see harry at a party and old feelings resurface…
You had been single for a few months now. Ever since that night when you marched out of the house at two in the morning after a screaming match with your boyfriend at the time, Harry, you felt a lot lighter. Less of the burden of a crumbling relationship to carry around.
At first, it had been hard to merely function without the presence of Harry, which you’d grown so used to over the years you knew one another - even before you started dating. You spent a lot of time on the sofa of your friend, Millie’s flat, but she quickly grew tired of your moping and offered to help you hunt for your own flat. Regain a bit of independence, she’d said. You finally found yourself a nice little flat in London and you soon settled in nicely.
Perhaps the flat was your first step to recovery from the heartbreak of the breakup. But, either way, you were back to your old self soon enough. Your friend was happy to see you smiling again.
There was no particular occasion that warranted a night out for Millie and yourself. But she arrived outside your flat, telling you to put something nice on for a party she was going to. And with nothing better to do, you slipped into some heels and a little green dress. Millie ran the curlers through your hair as you fixed your makeup. It had been a while since the two of you had been on a good night out.
Walking into the party, it was buzzing with dancing bodies and rock music from the seventies. The lights were flashing, illuminating sweaty dancers grinding on one another. “Come on,” Millie laughed. “Let’s get a drink.”
“I’m beginning to remember why I hate night outs,” you called over the music as Millie dragged you through a sea of strangers. She either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore you as she arrived at the bar. While she ordered some shots, you let your eyes wander across the crowd. You felt your stomach lurch at the sight of a familiar face. It took you a moment to place it before you realised it was Mitch Rowland. As in Harry’s Mitch Rowland.
It all clicked in your mind then. The seventies rock music and the presence of the guitarist you’d become well acquainted with during your relationship with Harry. This wasn’t just anybody’s party, it was Harry Styles’. You turned to Millie, leaning over to ensure she could hear you, “Mill, whose party is this?”
She looked over at you sheepishly, “Well, I was invited by Ny.”
“So it’s Harry’s party?” you scoffed, taking a sip of your drink that the bartender had recently placed before you.
Millie shrugged, “So what if it is? Let’s have a good time and just pretend it isn’t his. I mean, come on, we’re surrounded by all his rich friends, he’s not gonna notice us mingling in a corner.”
You sighed, throwing your head back in frustration, “Fine, whatever. Why did you drag me here, Mill?”
“Because you needed a night out and Ny invited me here so I thought you could tag along too,” she replied, finishing off her drink already. “Anyways, who cares if he’s here? You’ve moved on, Y/N.”
You nodded, “Right.”
You maybe managed twenty minutes of dancing with Millie before you excused yourself to go and find the bathroom. After pushing through drunks, as well as having your toes being stood on by an extremely apologetic man whom you did not recognise, you finally reached your destination.
In your absence, Millie busied herself at the bar. As she was ordering another drink, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see the one and only Harry Styles. “Hey, Millie,” he smiled politely. “Long time no see. How are you?”
She scoffed at his small talk. She could see what he was itching to really ask. “I’m good, thank you, Harry,” she replied anyway. “And you?”
He shrugged, “Good as can be expected, I guess…”
There was a small pause in the pathetic conversation before Millie finally said, “She’s here. She’s gone to the bathroom. She’ll be back soon, so I’d leave, if I were you.”
He nodded slowly, “Will you tell her I said hi?”
“Sure,” Millie said, though she knew she wouldn’t.
With that, he disappeared into the crowd to mingle with somebody else. Millie sighed, taking a sip of her new drink after she thanked the bar tender. Shortly after, you returned to Millie’s side, mumbling something about your sore toe. “Y/N!” a voice came from behind the two girls.
You turned to see Ny approaching them. The cheerful woman had her arms outstretched as she pulled you into a tight hug before promptly doing the same to Millie. “I didn’t expect to see you here, because, well, y’know…” Ny trailed off as she looked to you. “But I’m glad you are here! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“That’s sweet,” you smiled. “But I think my toe’s broken.”
“I don’t think it is,” Millie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, are you having fun, Ny?”
Ny shrugged, “Not really. Hey, Mill, can I borrow you for a sec?”
Millie nodded. You felt her squeeze your hand tightly before whispering something about being back soon. Miserably, you watched your best friend disappear into the darkness. The feeling of loneliness overwhelmed you all at once as you shifted nervously at the bar.
From where Harry was standing, he could see you perfectly. That’s perhaps why he hadn’t moved from that spot most of the night. “If you want to talk to her, you should,” one of his friends said to him.
Harry shook his head, “Her friend told me not to.”
“Fuck what her friend says. You’re still in love with her, anyone can see that,” he replied, nudging Harry towards your lonesome figure.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed his way towards you, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to you. But when he was standing in front of you, he felt his throat close up. “Hi,” was all he managed.
And when your eyes met his, he could feel himself falling back in love with you. It was like the moment the two of you first met, when he was sure you were the person he wanted by his side for the rest of his life. “Hi, Harry,” you replied, rubbing the sweat from your palms on the hem of your dress.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“If you want,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink to aid your dry throat, but it made no difference.
“You look well,” he said.
“Thanks,” you smiled softly. “As do you.”
“That was always my favourite dress of yours… is that why you wore it here?” he asked, not meaning for the question to sound as obnoxious as it did.
You scoffed, shaking your head, “I didn’t even know this was your party until I got here… Millie made me come.”
“Right,” he nodded slowly. “Well, you look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” you smiled. “How have you been?”
He hummed in thought for a moment, “Okay.”
You weren’t exactly expecting him to get down on his knees and sob as he told you how his life was torture without you, but hearing such a nonchalant answer almost broke your heart as badly as he did the first time. “That’s good,” you said, hating yourself for the crack in your voice as you said that.
“And you?” he asked. “How have you been?”
“Good,” you said firmly. “Got a nice flat and everything. I’ve been looking to adopt a cat, so everything’s been… nice.”
“Yeah?” he smiled, looking genuinely happy for you. “I’m glad. Hey, can we go outside? It’s hard to hear you in here.”
Almost reluctantly, you nodded. You followed him out of the club after placing your empty glass down on the countertop. The midnight wind was cold on your bare legs and arms, but it was a refreshing contrast to the sweaty, stuffy air inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you waited for him to speak. “How’s your mum?” he asked.
You chuckled, “She’s well. She misses you.”
He looked taken aback to hear you say that, “Does she? Tell her I miss her too.”
“You can always go and see her if you want. I’m not going to stop you from doing that,” you said, shifting on your feet as he leaned back against a brick wall.
London traffic whizzed past, despite the absurdity of the time. He sighed, shaking his head, “I don’t think that would be appropriate. She’s my ex’s mum, it’s a bit weird, don’t you think?”
“I guess so,” you replied. “Been working on any songs?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Just loads of depressing breakup shit. I just want to write something happy.”
“Well, a good breakup song never hurt anyone,” you replied.
“Except the person it’s about.”
You shrugged, “Depends how good it is. Is it good?”
“Maybe,” he replied. “Probably not. We can’t get the bassline to work.”
“But are the lyrics good?” you asked.
“They’re about you,” he replied. “It’s just some soppy bollocks about how shit the world is without you. Nothing special.”
You couldn’t help but smile, “Aw, you think the world’s shit without me?”
“Maybe a little bit,” he said, smiling a big grin over at you. “I have missed you.”
“Missed you too,” you replied nervously. “Only a little bit.”
“Only a little bit?” he laughed. “Wow, Y/N, my heart is aching.”
“Now you can write a song about that,” you grinned, pausing for a moment before clearing your throat. “I am sorry for how I left things.”
“Me too,” he nodded. “We shouldn’t have done that, I don’t think.”
“Yeah, the midnight screaming was a tad bit excessive,” you nodded.
He shook his head, “I mean calling it quits.”
That seemed to hit you like a sack of bricks. You could feel your heart stop in your chest and you realised that whatever you say next would change your life. “It?” you managed.
“You think we shouldn’t have broken up?” you asked nervously.
“I know what we had wasn’t working back then, but I’m hoping we can try something new this time. I love you, Y/N… I’m not ready to let you leave,” he said. “I can’t wake up another morning without you by my side. Please, I hate it.”
“Harry…” you trailed off, trying to comprehend what he was telling you.
“I don’t think I could ever be in love with somebody else when I know I lost what I had with you,” he went on as the London nightlife spun around the little bubble you and Harry had created for yourself. “All of this… I should have said it that night. We can start again, you know, pretend like we’ve never done it before.”
“You think?” you asked. “You think it would be that easy?”
“We can have our first kiss again and go on our first date. We’ll meet each other’s families for the first time all over again. I want to do it all again with you, Y/N. Nobody else but you,” he said, stepping towards you.
His hands were warm on your arms as he leaned down to press a light kiss to your forehead. And in that second, you didn’t want him to leave. If only you could have lived in that moment forever. “You know where to find me,” he said, “if you want to do it all again.”
Wishing you could call out and stop him, you watched him as he walked back inside the club. And again, you were left alone. The wind felt colder and the cars sounded louder and the streets looked darker. Sighing, you went inside to find Millie to ask her if the two of you could go home now.
It was midday when you woke. Your head hurt, but it wasn’t too severe. You’d kept fairly sober the night before. Rolling over, you came face to face with Millie, who was scrolling through Twitter on her phone. “Morning,” she hummed cheerfully.
Again, you were irritated by her ability to seem unaffected by hangovers. Just as you felt yourself really wake up, the night before’s course of events came flooding back. “I spoke to Harry last night,” you said plainly.
Millie shut off her phone, placing it down beside her, “How was it?”
“He said he loves me,” you explained. “He wants to try again.”
“What did you say?” Millie questioned, a sympathetic look on her face.
“Not much, to be honest,” you replied. “Nothing important, anyway.”
“Is there anything you wish you’d said?” she asked.
“A lot of things,” you said. “Like… I love him too. I’d like to try again as well. I’m not sure I ever really moved on.”
“I don’t think you did either,” Millie said softly, brushing the hairs from your face as you stared up at the ceiling.
“What do you think I should do?” you asked sadly, tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by it all.
“I think you should go and tell him,” she said. “Go and tell him how you feel.”
You nodded, sitting up. In no time at all, you were dressed and out of the flat. Millie had promised she’d make some food for when you return as she hugged you on your way. You clambered into an uber, telling the driver the address of Harry’s house.
The journey was twenty minutes or so. But it felt agonisingly long. Once the driver pulled up, you told her to wait for you. She nodded, switching the engine off. Cracking your knuckles anxiously, you approached Harry’s front door. You knocked, waiting and waiting. As every second passed, you had to convince yourself not to turn and run away from it all. Finally, the door swung open. Harry stood there in his black sweater and his pink beanie. His eyes practically lit up at the sight of you standing on his doorstep. “I love you too,” you said. “And I want to try it again.”
“You do?” he grinned ecstatically.
You nodded, “I do.”
He swept you up in a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder. He spun you around, pulling away to admire you. “That makes me so happy,” he said. “Can I… can I kiss you?”
You nodded. In fact, you leaned up to meet his lips halfway. With his arms wrapped around your torso, pressing you to his chest, and your hands on his cheeks, you knew you had made the right decision. “Do you want to come in?” he asked, pulling back slightly.
You shook your head, smiling, “I can’t. Millie’s making dinner. But thank you.”
He nodded, “Okay. I love you so much.”
“I know,” you grinned. “I love you too. And, hey, now you can finally write some happy songs.”
He laughed, nodding, “I can finally write some happy songs.”
Here is the Instagram blurb for the second part of my Fine Line series, Treat People With Kindness! This takes pace between parts 2 and 3. I’ll be posting these every other day until we’re caught up, then every Friday!│Masterlist
Just Takin’ It All In
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harrystyles Caught a thief in the act in Washington DC @/yourinstagram
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harrystan1 wow he really called y/n out like that 😂
yourinstagram wish there was a dislike button :(
harrystyles @/yourinstagram :.( you stole my scrunchie
harrystan2 harry….sweetie….was this pic taken on a potato???
yourinstagram liked this comment
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yourinstagram i got publicly shamed by the third-hottest member of one direction
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harrystan1 THIRD hottest? shit she really came for him
harrystan2 @/harrystan1 i wonder who 1 and 2 are 👀
yourinstagram @/harrystan1 @/harrystan2 Zayn and Niall 4ever
harrystyles @/yourinstagram dislike
harrystyles next time don’t drink my green juice
yourinstagram @/harrystyles mr boujee rockstar can’t share his fancy vegetable water
Your Instagram Story
harrystyles replied to your Instagram story
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harrystyles Live on Tour Upper Darby, PA
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annetwist I miss that cute face!!
harrystyles @/annetwist miss you too, mum
harrystan1 omg imagine Harry smiling at you like this 🥺
harrystan2 @/harrystan1 i was there! he was smiling at y/n!
yourinstagram me: yells something stupid harry:
harrystyles @/yourinstagram you’re a distraction
harrystan3 @/harrystyles @/yourinstagram flirting on main? that is a bold move, mr. styles
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when you’re ready
as always, any feedback or comments would be greatly appreciated, along with a reblog to share it <3
word count: 1.8k | Oh, What A World masterlist
The sound of both of your heels echoed through the halls of an empty stadium, one that would be filled with approximately 100,000 people later that night. Yet, your husband was walking beside you ever so casually, hand in hand, filling you in on his dream he had last night.
You could hear the familiar chatter of your friends and colleagues, but they’ve grown to become much more ever since you and Harry officially became one. They had been there with you since the very beginning and rooted for both of your successes. You couldn’t have asked to be surrounded by a better group and were so happy to be reuniting with them.
“Here comes the happy couple!” Harry’s manager shouted, throwing up his arms dramatically and making everyone cheer. You could hear a failed attempt of a classic wedding tune amongst the noise, even though that was certainly not the song that played as you walked down the aisle.
Harry threw up your conjoined hands in the air while you shook your head in amusement at your friends. His actions were similar to what he did when the officiant announced you were officially wed, except he was way more ecstatic that day. Now, he was enjoying encouraging their behavior and the attention.
Growing shy over all of the unnecessary eyes on you, you busied yourself with hugging and greeting those around the room. Harry did the same, hugging his manager after the man passed along a “good to see you, H. So glad you guys are back.”
While in the middle of a successful stadium tour, you and your husband celebrated your three year anniversary somewhere warm and tropical. As soon as he finished his last show you two jet set off to somewhere secluded and private while in between the North American and European legs of the tour. A month and a half of peace and uninterrupted time with your husband was a dream and more.
But once that was done, it was back to reality. You supported Harry while he does what he loves and does best every night. You remembered when he was playing tiny theatre shows, only having 1 album under his belt and worrying that people wouldn’t show up. What was 2 more albums with an arena tour quickly turned into 5 albums with deluxe editions, 2 tour documentaries, and a stadium tour that was at its highest demand.
He was still the most humble man you’ve ever met. Harry reminded you every day that he wouldn’t shine as bright if he didn’t have you, but you always dismissed it. He was born to be on stage and perform and you had just conveniently joined him along the way, while simultaneously being successful on your own as well.
Still, the 4 years you dated and the 3 you were married kept getting sweeter. Life with Harry was everything you could ask for.
You recalled your trip with whoever asked, all of them also sharing what they got up to with the free time. A lot of people went home to visit their families after nonstop traveling, played for other touring artists, or went on their own vacation.
Too busy reminiscing on bottomless beverages under the sun, you didn’t notice that someone brought in a baby. It usually wasn’t a big deal especially with how many people filtered through the shows, but you had been experiencing baby fever for a while. Anything about a baby made you emotional. You and your husband talked about it here and there, but never really established when you two would be making the next move, if you were.
Once your friends noticed Harry coming towards you, they left to give you privacy. You looked over to find the baby in his arms this time and your heart did somersaults. This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him hold a child, but your emotions were all over the place. He was so frustratingly gentle and careful with the baby, hand holding its bum protectively while its head rested comfortably in the crook of his elbow like they were used to being there.
“And over here is my beautiful wife.. I’m sure when you’re a little older you’ll be able to recognize her easily with her beauty.”
You smiled at him fondly, leaning against one of the snack tables as he moved closer to you. He returned your smile and rocked the baby gently, looking down with so much love in his eyes as if it was his own.
You held out a finger for the baby to immediately latch on, making you coo softly. “Hi, angel. Harry’s got you working the room, doesn’t he?”
He looked at you cheekily. “Something like that. Gotta practice for our own, yeah?”
You observed him quietly. He’s always been a natural with children. Your husband was so kind, warm, and selfless, so you didn’t think he’d be any less with a child. It just made you go insane thinking about how he’d act like that with your own.
“Is that something you’d want soon?”
“Is that something you’d want? Gonna be the one carryin’ it and all.”
“I know, but you have just as much of a say.”
“Of course I want one,” he confessed, looking back down at the little bundle in his arms. “Always wanted my own, you know that. I’ve always wanted one with you too whenever that’ll be. Know you’ll be the best.”
You pondered on his confession. You couldn’t believe you were having this intimate of a conversation with so many other people in the room, but he always made you feel like his attention was reserved for you and only you. He always managed to take your breath away just by his words alone.
Your ears were suddenly filled with gentle cries for attention, making Harry shift the baby in his arms to his shoulder, hand immediately rubbing its back softly. It amazed you how natural he was at this, how even if the baby needed something like food from his mother Harry was able to give it temporary comfort. It was mesmerizing.
“Don’t have to make any rash decisions right now, hm? We’ll talk later,” your husband nodded at you, pushing the conversation away for a better time. He left to go find the parents, but not without kissing you three times for good measure.
The show went on like normal. You danced and cried and laughed with the man you loved, surrounded by the love of him, your friends, and his fans. The feeling of overwhelmingness never seemed to leave you that night.
Harry noticed how quiet you were after the show and while you were heading towards the hotel. Now back in the room and side by side at the bathroom sink, he tried to study your behavior to gauge what was wrong. He couldn’t figure it out.
“Alright, tell me what’s wrong,” he pushed gently, voice quiet and sweet as ever for you.
The lights were already off, along with the lamps on either bedside tables. You had no light besides the stream coming from the windows when Harry haphazardly drew the curtains, but it gave you enough glow to see your husband’s face in the dark. You were both laying on your sides, his arm underneath your pillow and other wrapped around your body to hold you.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.”
“Just the idea of us having a baby.”
“’S that why you were so quiet tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you rested your head gently on his pillow to move closer.
“No, nothin’ to apologize for. I just didn’t know you were still thinking about it.”
“I have for a while actually. Baby fever,” you confessed shyly.
“Ah,” Harry realized, laughing a little. It all made sense. “I was serious earlier. If you’re ready to have a baby, then I am too.”
You blinked softly at the man, lips quirked up because he was too good to be true. “Do you think it’s a good time though? To officially start trying?”
He smirked. “Anytime’s good with me if you’re really asking, baby.”
You rolled your eyes and pushed at him gently, knocking his shoulder back. You couldn’t help but still smile endearingly at his childish giggles.
“Sorry, I know what you meant,” his laughter died down but his smile never left. “But any time is a good time and we can take it easy. If you wanna get technical then we can work around your cycle and all that, but I don’t mind the timeline.”
“But you’re touring right now. That won’t stress you out? Like me finding out I’m pregnant in the middle of a bathroom in a different country? It’ll change everything.”
Harry tsked playfully, kissing your forehead because he loved you for already overthinking everything. “Wouldn’t bother me at all. I’ll be here when you find out if it’s in a random bathroom in Sweden or if it’s long after tour is over. Don’t have to worry about that.”
“But then what about your music? There’s so much you want to do, is this really the right time?”
“I have plenty of time to do what I want, when I want. My career isn’t going anywhere. If we want to have a baby then we will, and everything else will fall into place. It’s not an ultimatum, it’s whatever we choose to do as a family,” he continued to reassure you.
Your love for him seemed to grow ten times more if possible, but he always seemed to do that. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Someone who listened to your worries over and over until you tired yourself out, but he remained to be so calm and level headed until you figured it out.
“Okay. I think we should consider it then. Take all of the necessary precautions or whatever, plan some other things.”
“Yeah? You wanna have a baby?” He brought your body closer with a nudge of his hand on your back, lips molding over yours effortlessly in the dark.
The idea was slowly becoming real, making you return his affection easily. Even if it ends up not happening or becoming something different, taking the initials steps of starting a family with Harry was enough to make you cry.
He swiftly moved his body over yours, taking you by surprise and making you laugh as he chased your mouth for kisses. His fingers somehow made their way along the sides of your body for tickles, drawing out the loudest and unflattering noises to you, but one of the sweetest sounds to him. He was planning on having you make his other favorite sounds in a few minutes.
“Might as well help me practice then, sweet girl. Can’t put that idea in my head and go to sleep just yet.”
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taglist: @evanjh @harryhoney-bee @harrysbracelet
Pax Romana; Part II
Sequel to: Part 1
Author's note: I know I said this before, but I'VE WORKED ON HIS PIECE FOREVER. I started writing this on JULY 4, 2021!
I've erased thousands of words for months and re-writing hundreds of times. Furthermore, I wanted this to be as perfect as I could for all of you. Due to my therapist objecting and telling me that perfection isn't possible. I said ENOUGH! So, I wrapped the whole thing up these last few days. I hope you all enjoy and get the same feeling I was trying to transmit through my writing. I don't know if this short series will have another part. Let me know if you would like one.
Also, it's so good to be back!
They rested on their tummies on the sunbeds, as they caught the potency of the Italian sun. Catalina's arms rested above her head, leaving a small space under her arm to see him. Their books had been longtime forgotten and discarded only a few inches from them. It was relatively quiet except for the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore.
Harry turned his head to face her, noticing she was listening to music this whole time.
“What are you listing to?” His rough voice halted the comfortable stillness that had settled between them. Without a word, she took an AirPod out of her ear. Harry lifted his head; curious as to what she’d do next. She leaned over the gap that separated each of the beds, attempting to reach his ear without having to waste any significant energy. Unfortunately, her arm's length prevented her from reaching the cheeky, smiling man.
Harry chuckled at her determination yet grabbed the edge of her tanning bed and without any warning yanked. He yanked her close enough until their sunbeds collided; becoming one big one.
He had her right where he wanted her.
Catalina carefully and gently inserted the matching pair into his ear. By now both of them laid on their sides, facing one another just in time to hear Catalina’s music.
Her favorite playlist was composed of Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac, Elvis, Guns N’Roses, and more. He was rather pleased to know that she had a good taste in music.
“Pink Floyd?” He asked after Wished You Were Here came to an end and Dreams by Fleetwood Mac began. She cracked a nostalgic smile.
“It was my mom’s favorite,” She gently said as she felt the familiar knot in her throat start forming. She could have been wearing sunglasses, but Harry had been able to catch her sensitive state. He scooted closer to her enough to catch a sniff of her suntan lotion. Leaving the side of their hands touching each other.
“M’sorry” he whispered to her as his pinky grazed the side of her hand. The small gesture was sweet and comforting.
“Don't apologize. I like to be reminded of her. It keeps her alive”.
Harry doesn't know what drives him to kiss her. Perhaps it was the rawness of the moment or how gentle her skin felt or how intoxicating was the smell of the suntan lotion, but he drove himself to do so without any remorse.
It was gentle and delicate. His hand-glazed her cheek on the way to the back of her head. His fingers tangled on her long hair. The kiss that they so craved, intensified by the minute. Both had abstained from tasting one other far too long, and by now they were both famished.
Their gentle kiss had started turning into a make-out session by the time that Catalina forced them apart.
She pressed her forehead against his as she tried to regain her breath and savor the moment. A moment Harry took to observe her beauty up close as an unavoidable smile appeared across his face.
“Y’Alright?” he asked as her eyes remained closed.
“Perfect,” she said softly catching her lip between her teeth. Harry pecked her lips quickly before laying back down.
He took his sunglasses off as he faced the sky. His eyes closed as he allowed the music to take him back to the moment he first met her. She doesn’t know, but Harry had already started writing about her, and he planned to keep it like that for some time.
“Would you let me do something?” Catalina interrupted the tranquility and the bliss that enveloped them. The corners of his lips slightly curved into a small smile. His cheeky personality surfaced.
“Depends on what it is, darling ” The term of endearment and his heavy accent had the power to cause a wave of heat to spread through her insides. She clenched her legs in response and hoped he wasn't able to tell what his words did to her. “And what y’gonna do f’me” he tucked his arm under his head, causing his muscles to look even bigger.
“May I take a picture of you?” He turned his head to get a look at her. The question confused him a bit. He was never asked permission. People constantly took pictures and exploited them in exchange for money. He also couldn’t figure out why she wanted a picture when the internet was filled with them.
“I just want to capture this moment,” She responded truthfully. It was a small hobby of hers. Her apartment, in Rome, had a specific room that she had altered into her studio. It was the messiest room, no one was ever allowed to enter unless she asked you to. It was her cave, her sanctuary, the place where she could express herself without hearing the opinion of others.
“Forget about it. It's silly,” She dismissed her own request after a few seconds of utter silence from him. Catalina hoped that she hadn't annoyed him or pissed him off.
He just looked so perfect and carefree that the artist within her craved to have a picture of him.
"S'not, m'love" Harry edged closer to her as he laid on his side. “I just wasn't expecting it” The request felt a bit foreign to him, but it was such a beautiful day that he wanted to remember it too. “Could I take one of you too, perhaps?”
Catalina nodded enthusiastically as she leaned over to her side for her bag and fished out a Polaroid camera.
“How do you want me?” Catalina looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. Harry let out a loud belly laugh And that was when she captured the first photograph of many. She took two more pictures of his side profile. Catalina was fascinated by the sharpness of his jaw and how he looked carved by the Gods. She felt like she could stare at him for hours.
“Hungry?” Harry asked, but his eyes remained closed.
“Where would you like to have lunch?”
“Are you asking me to go to lunch with you?” She giggled as she laid back down on her side and faced him.
“How else am I going to be able to take your photo?” Catalina shrugged and acted unbothered by his invitation to dinner when in reality she was thrilled and already was trying to come up with what she was going to wear.
“I guess I will have to go” Harry laughed and shook his head at her. "I think you might need more sunblock, H". She had started noticing the redness on his face. So without any further question, she reached out and started the tedious task of applying to him.
"I am fine!" He complained as she grabbed both of her wrists before she could lather the sunblock on his face. "I haven't burned yet" Harry kissed her knuckles, hoping it would distract her.
“Harry! Please” she pouted her lips attempting to convince him.
“I am fine m’love” Harry insisted as he kissed the inside of her wrist before letting them go.
“If you say so” Catalina made a mental note to pick up some aloe Vera on her way up to her hotel. She knew he was going to regret it.
“I was thinking you should come to my house for lunch. Will that be alright? Just thought we would have more privacy” He asked, not wanting to get the wrong impression.
“It’s not a problem” The Latina woman kept forgetting how famous and who he was outside their little bubble. “I just need your address”.
“I’ll text it to you”
Catalina found herself running around her hotel room, looking for one of her sandals. She had opted not to wear heels this time around. Mostly because she didn't want to embarrass herself like last time. On top of it, she had to get on a bus to take her. Harry’s house was secluded from the town.
She wore a green, polka dot, summer dress with her hair down. She had applied a bit of makeup but abstained from using foundation and wasting it since it would probably be sweated off. It was humid and hot. Only the cool ocean breeze made it okay for her to walk to his.
His house was a decent size Italian villa with its olive trees, arched windows, and vines with a private beach as his backyard.
The house had been decorated minimalistic. He wanted open doors to the backyard. He already felt trapped in his other houses. This time around, he had been very particular with his demands. Harry had spent the morning at the local market, choosing out the perfect ingredients to recreate a recipe that he believed she would like.
Then while the food cooked, he walked around the house worrying and thinking about her. He was beyond himself. He couldn't think straight and it worried him. Harry wasn't ready to get his heartbroken again. The craziest part of it was that getting to love her would be the most exquisite way to self-destruct to him.
It was just around two-thirty when he heard a soft knock on the front door. It was more of a late lunch sort of a thing. After all, they both had snacked most of the morning at the kitchen. He sat down his glass of wine and walked eagerly to the front door.
“Hi” She smiled at him, instantly noticing the sunburn that she had predicted he would have. The funny thing was that it made him look even more irresistible.
“These are for you” she gestured to the bouquet of flowers that she carried. Sure — it wasn't conventional for a man to receive flowers, but Harry wasn't like other men. “And so is this” Catalina handed him the aloe Vera.
"Aloe vera, how fittin" He chuckled, revealing his dimples that she has grown to love the last few days. "F'me?” She nodded eagerly at him. He was quite surprised and even more attracted to her. No one had ever bought him flowers. It was sweet.
“They are lovely. Thank you, darling" Catalina smiled, "Please come in”.
Harry noticed how she proceeded to take off her shoes beside the front door. Her gaze quickly shifted to the artwork, hanging on the walls. She was still respectful of his privacy and remained in the foyer. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she was snooping around or felt entitled to walk around his house without his permission. She was respectful of his space.
"es hermoso y delicado” Catalina whispered as she stared at the small details that the artist had managed to draw with watercolor on the canvas that hung on the hallway that led to the rest of the house.
It was Harry's first time hearing her speak in her native tongue. And he only wished he could hear her speak more often in Spanish. Her tone was lovely and gentler than in English. Spanish for him had always been a language that was sung and it had a lovely melody mostly because it came from her.
“I bought it in a tiny art gallery in Japan” He shared, trying to make conversation with her. “It never fit with anywhere else. Then, when I got the keys to this place, I knew where it belonged”
“Well it’s beautiful” She stepped back and brought her arms down from having them crossed across her chest while she inspected.
“Come” he reached out for her hand. And Catalina noticed his fingers were still bare. He was still the relaxed Harry that she had first met that night at the restaurant. “Would you like something to drink?”
“What are you drinking?” she held his hand and allowed him to direct her towards the kitchen. Catalina hated being asked. She always asked what the host was drinking and asked for the same thing. She knew it was stupid but she always felt like she was bothering.
“Wine, would you like some?”
“Yes, please” Harry nodded and walked around the kitchen island to get to the small wine cooler. He also took the opportunity to check on the salmon that he was cooking in the oven.
Meanwhile, Catalina took the opportunity to step out into his balcony and catch a glimpse of the view. It was breathtaking. The sea crashed in the rocks right under them. She felt jealous of how comfortably Harry probably slept every night as he was lulled by the crashing waves.
“You must sleep until the afternoon most days with the sound of the waves” Catalina inhaled the fresh salty air.
“I am actually a morning person. I wake up around five most days” She looked at him as he had grown three heads. If there was a thing that she enjoyed more than sitting in a museum of art for hours, it was sleeping. Her sleep was sacred.
“That's awful. Espantoso. ¿Estas bien?” There it was her Spanish shining through again and Harry captivated by it. She pressed her right hand on his upper back as in comfort as if he was going through a tough time. Harry found it funny and her touch was just something he didn't know he needed but he did.
“I like to swim in cold water and meditate at least twice a day”
“I can put up with the meditation but not with the swimming” Catalina took the glass of wine from him. “Too bad this isn’t going to work. I hoped it would”.
“Too bad. Was hopin you would join me”
“The sea isn’t that cold at this time of the year, H” The sea temperature by the Amalfi coast barely dropped below 20C in summer so she didn’t understand where and how he got his cold swims.
“All the more reason why you should join me next time” Harry smirked mischievously. If it was up to him he would have offered her to move in with him.
“Maybe let’s see how this date goes”
“So, this is a date?! It’s not just you putting up with me as a thank you for allowing you to take a picture of me. And may I add, free of cost” Harry’s cockiness was unbelievable but he was simply being silly. He enjoyed teasing her. He slightly licked his bottom lip, a gesture that made Catalina’s knees weaken for a split second.
“Oh did I misunderstand?” She attempted to frown, “I could just go. Right now” Catalina took one step towards the front door and Harry instantly had his arms wrapped around her waist, preventing her from going any further.
“you aren’t going anywhere” He laughed, “we are having dinner”
"Not a chance"
They eventually sat outside after Harry insisted since he noticed how much she enjoyed the view. They joked and poked fun at each other. Catalina even attempted to critique his cooking techniques but failed miserably when Harry pointed out that she had eaten every one last bit of food that he had served her.
Catalina and Harry even touched upon heavy subjects like past relationships.
"You can't tell me you haven't had a serious relationship in how long was it?"
"Four years" She nodded as she doodled on the condensation of her iced water, trying not to make eye contact with Harry's eyes. Especially since she knew the power that his gaze had over her.
"That bad huh?" Harry noticed how she shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked up at him.
"You could say he broke me; he took a piece of me". She smiled, but he could see the pain right through it. Catalina couldn't fool him. She had met him the summer before her first semester of college in Rome. He had every attribute and quality that she had dreamt of a boyfriend having.
"Did you love him?" He wasn't jealous nor did he have any right to be, but he felt like saying a few words to the man.
Catalina took her glass of water up to her lips as she thought carefully of her answer.
"I don't think I did. I was defiantly attached to him. He provided me with that comfort and familiarity that I had been given by my family. But I wasn't in love with him" Catalina shook her head, "I think it was the circumstances of how our relationship ended that hurt the most".
"You don't have to share if you don't want" Harry wanted to know more, but he abstained from pressing any further.
"How about you anyway?"
"You can say that my career is the common denominator" He was a hopeless romantic and even after many failed attempts to find the one, he would keep looking. Harry wasn't ready to give up on love. Plus, he was convinced there was someone for him out there.
"It seems a bit silly when they all knew what they were getting themselves in before they started dating you"
"I guess it's always too much. Plus, I don't if you've heard, but I'm an arrogant son of a bitch" Catalina laughed and shook his head at him, understanding the reference to one of his songs. "So you do listen to my music!" He pointed out just as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
"Fine. Just a few" Catalina attempted to hide her smile with her glass.
"What are your favorites and why?"
"You really are a narcissist!"
"Just a tiny bit" Harry chuckled as he noticed the sun starting to descent and the ocean looking inviting. "Let's go for a swim" He blurted out, getting up from his chair.
"What?" She laughed, as she watch him unbutton his shirt. "Harry!"
"Let's go for a swim. It's so pretty"
"I don't have a bathing suit" Catalina tried to reason with him, but just as the words left her mouth. Harry pushed his shorts off his legs, leaving him completely bare.
"Who said anythin’ bout bathing suits?" He winked then busted in laugher before running off towards the shore.
"Harry!" She laughed after him, rising to her feet and running to the edge where she could look down at the shore.
"Come on! The water isn't getting any warmer!"
It was there while she stared at the man that she liked jumping into the ocean wearing only his birthday suit that Catalina reflected on her entire life. She had always played it safe. She always thought of the consequences before acting out on something. Catalina was a planner and hated when anyone changed her plans yet she found herself walking down the stone steps towards where the sea met the sand.
Harry came up for air and ran his fingers through his hair before turning to look at the shore where nervous and shy Catalina stood.
With the water up to his waist, he looked like a dream. His hair slicked back, and his tattoos glistened from the water.
“The water is delightful!” He wasn't lying, but he understood her hesitation. She still felt shy around him. They had only known each other for a few weeks. It made sense. Therefore, Harry turned his back towards her in an attempt to give her a chance to undress if she wanted to.
And it was then when Catalina first took her first risk and started stripping. Once bare, she went straight to the water. Thankfully, her hair was long enough to cover her breast, making her feel a bit secure as she walked up to Harry.
“You are insane, you know?”
“Hello” Harry turned towards her with a big smile. “Look” He pointed at the beautiful sunset and the different tones of light that dispersed through the sky. It looked like a painting, and to Catalina it was overwhelming. The natural perfection and the tranquility that she felt gave her the guts to confess why she had broken up with her ex-boyfriend.
“I was pregnant and lost the baby. He left the day I got discharged. He said he was going to pick us up something to eat while I rested, but never came back” She shared as she kept her eyes glued to the sunset and the sky. “I know you didn't ask, but since we have been sharing” Catalina shrugged, “though it was important”. She had never shared her miscarriage with anyone besides her aunt. She was over her ex-boyfriend, but the pain of losing an unborn child, she would always carry.
Harry went cold because the way his ex-boyfriend left her told Harry everything. He felt pain for her. Catalina deserved a better goodbye.
“I blamed her for cheating and broke things up with her before I gave her a chance to explain. I was wrong all along, and I had ruined a perfectly good relationship” Harry shared. It wasn't the same, but he wanted her to know something about him.
“Do you regret it?”
“No. I am a true believer that everything happens fo’ a reason” It was true. “Plus, I would have never met you”.
“Smooth dude” She giggled.
He reached underwater for her hand and turned her towards him. His hands came up to her face. His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he looked down at her, and she kept her eyes closed; enjoying his touch.
“I am so sorry” Harry apologized, referring to her miscarriage as if it was his fault, but Catalina only moved her hands to cover his with hers after kissing one of his palms.
And it was quiet as they remained still. They allowed the comforting quietness to surround them as Harry continued to hold her. The only sound was the crashing of the waves. And so, Harry kissed her gently, trying to convey the same feeling he felt around her.
Harry realized that she felt the same when the kiss was reciprocated and her small arms were wrapped around his neck. Catalina took a step closer, pushing their bodies against one another, feeling the heat that each felt towards the other.
His hands dropped and ran down her naked back and the sides of her body, enjoying the softness of her skin against his fingertips. Harry pulled away to move his lips to her neck and jaw.
A soft “Harry” came out of her mouth as he pushed his body closer to hers.
“What, m’love? What do you want?” He said, against her skin.
It was as if a switch had turned. Neither of them had noticed each other's nakedness. Now, lust and desire had overpowered them. Catalina’s body called out to him, responding to his simple touch. Her body was enticing, and he knew that the moment he went down that road, there was no turning back. She would officially become his just as much as he would become hers.
“You” she barely whispered with hooded eyes.
“Are you sure?” He asked, lifting his head from the crook of her neck.
“Christ” Harry smiled and reconnected their lips.
And so Harry made love to her in the privacy of his home, and until both couldn't get enough of each other. And until both were drunk off each other.
Catalina woke up, wrapped in soft bedsheets, in a bed that she didn't recognize at first. She was alone, but the other side of the bed was undone too, meaning that it hadn't been a dream. The soreness left between her legs was also evidence of it.
She was surprised that Harry was already out of bed. It was still dark outside. Still, with lots of questions within her head, she got on her two feet and started the quest of looking for some type of clothing.
The only article out of his closet was his iconic sweater ‘my life is crap’ with the little sheep. She threw it on before heading out on a search of him.
(This but in boxers and on a couch)
He sat on a couch facing the backyard, wearing only a pair of boxers. His guitar on his lap and a pencil in between his fingers.
“Hey, rock star” Harry instantly looked up from his journal with a gentle smile.
“Wha’ are you doin’up?” He questioned as he dropped his pencil and noticed her attire.
“I could ask you the same”
“Jus’ having a late-night, writing session” A lot had happened today, and he had needed to decompress, and he had already made love to her multiple times. “Nice sweater” He pointed out.
“The bed is lonely without you” Harry smile as he quickly wrote scribbled something. He loved feeling wanted and needed and desired. “Got any room for me over there?”.
“Come here” He sat back and settled the guitar beside him.
Catalina smiled and walked to him. She sat on his lap and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Close your eyes” she commanded after pecking his cheek. Harry obeyed but pursed his lips waiting for a kiss from her. Unfortunately, the only thing he felt was the coldness from the aloe vera that Catalina had started spreading all over his face. The man looked like a shrimp. It needed to be done.
On top of it, Catalina couldn't help noticing that his skin was hot from all the sun that it had absorbed. It had been like making love to a tiny radiator.
“Lovie” Harry complained as he opened his eyes widely at her.
“It's for your own good!” Her eyebrows furrowed, deep in concentration. She made sure to cover every bit of red skin. “It’s also boiling hot”.
“didn't see you complaining ‘bout that when my dick was poundin—”
“Shush!” She laughed, covering his mouth with a hand. Harry laughed and even though the aloe always left him sticky, he allowed her to finish in peace. “ There you go. All nice” She pecked his lips as she closed the container. “I guess it’s time for me to go, H. I have overstayed my welcome” The Latina climbed off his lap as she lathered the leftover aloe Vera on the sides of her thighs.
Harry sat up and gripped her waist, impeding her from leaving.
“Wha’ are you talking about, darling?” Harry couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of her mouth. “You could never overstay” he first pointed out, “stay the rest of the night”.
“ I don’t want to overstep”
“Darling — maybe I wasn’t clear enough about my intentions while I was making love to you” he chuckled, “I like you Catalina and I want you around me all the time or as much possible”.
“What happens when you go back to your life and I have to go back to Rome?” She liked him a lot, but she had to point out the obvious.
Harry rested his chin on her lower abdomen as he looked up at her, wrapping his arms around her hips.
“We’ll take it day by day. We’ll live in the moment, and we’ll fix it when that day comes. Alright?”
It was hard for her to let go. It was hard for Catalina to not have a plan for the future. Not only that, but it was especially hard for her, coping with uncertainty. That didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to try. After all, she did go to therapy every 15 days.
“I guess we could try” Harry smiles and pursed his lips. Catalina giggled and kissed him.
“Now get your lovely arse into the bedroom and get naked”
Start believing that
there is nothing that is
"too good" for you.
WE THE URBAN
The birth of Lavender Styles
Summary: Y/n gives birth to their new baby girl
warnings/ disclaimers: child birth, breast feeding, disclaimer (ages)
Y/n had noticed her contractions about two hours ago, she was sitting with Forest, playing with his ABC blocks when she noticed it. It was familiar- at least familiar to her two other pregnancies. She wasn't scared, she was calm, she just looked over toward Harry and gave him a small nod. She had already done this twice before, going through a particularly rough birth with her first one so she felt like there was nothing she couldn't do at this point- childbirth wise.
That look was all Harry needed to be well clingy. Ever since he had gotten that look he's been by her side. Her contractions were only lasting around 60 seconds and about 15 minutes apart, but Harry still held her through every single one and praised her for carrying yet another child of theirs, praising her body for being able to grow such beautiful babies. Violet and Forest were a little confused (and scared) as to why their mumma looked like she was in pain or a little frustrated every so often, but they continued to play when she had her little episodes- not wanting to startle her.
About an hour in, Harry had started to get worried, her contractions were getting worse and she was so uncomfortable. “My love, should I call over the midwife? I can see you are so uncomfortable, it hurts to see you like this.” Harry confesses, sitting behind Y/n, legs on either side of her, his hands rubbing her bump up and down. Y/n shakes her head, of course being stubborn. It was her first at-home birth and water birth, it was a bit of an unusual choice but they wanted to try it out before they were (possibly) done having babies. They have always wanted to welcome one of their little ones into the world all while they were still in the confines of their cottage but Y/n was never confident enough to do it.
“No, I'm fine.” she says, trying to verbally sway her husband into believing that she really was okay to wait it out a bit longer. Harry shakes his head, pulling her hair into a bun with a hair tie he had cuffed around his inked wrist for times like this in her pregnancy when she wasn't feeling the best. “Honey, you can't just sit in pain.” Harry sighs, trying to compromise with his very pregnant wife. Y/n nods, her head bowing down while she grips his hands. Harry smiles, kissing her shoulder, “Thank you, now let me call the midwife and doula. You relax, please,” Harry stresses, wiping the sweat that has collected on his own forehead from stressing. He pulls his leg up, preparing to stand up and call the little team they had set for the birth but Y/n stops him, resting her hand on his knee. “What? What is it, honeysuckle?” Harry fastly questions, his phone slipping from his hand and dropping on the couch cushion below him.
“Lets not invite them over just yet. I'm not ready.'' Harry sighs hearing his wife's words, nodding anyway. He just wants her comfortable and happy, he would give her the moon if he could.
“Please lay down then.” her contractions only getting worse from there, Harry eventually calling his mum over to watch the little ones while he deals with his wife. Anne watches over Violet and Forest, entertaining them with their many toys while their parents deal with their apparent stubborn youngest sibling.
Harry sighs, helping his pregnant lover up because she claimed she wanted to take a walk in the garden, look at her flowers, give the animals some love before she won't be able to see them for many days due to her being in with the new baby, also being exhausted, she knows her body is gonna be rundown after this. “You don’t have to do this, sweetpea.” Harry sighs for the millionth time today, helping Y/n up and wrapping an arm around her back. “Oh,” she says, her tone catching Harry's attention. “Hm?” Y/n laughs under her breath, catching his eyes with hers. “Maybe you should call them now.” Harry's browns pinch together, releasing an uneven breath. “Why?”
“Because my water just broke.”
That brings them to where they are now, Y/n and Harry in the birth pool, Harry once again sitting behind her, comforting her through everything. “I know you want to push but you can't, you're only five centimetres dilated. Halfway there!” The midwife says, only making Y/n groan, her head resting back on Harry's shoulder. Harry rests his cheek on the top of her head, he feels for her- he really does, and if he could have carried all three of their little ones he would have, but sadly he can't so he thanks her every day. “I'm so sorry, honey. God, I wish I could do something.” Harry shakily says, his voice quivering the slightest and his bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, but noticeable pout. “I hate that you're in pain.” Harry whimpers, nosing at the top of her head before kissing over it many times.
Y/n turns her head, catching her husband's eyes with hers. Y/n softly laughs when she sees her husband, giving him a peck before she rubs his stubbly cheek. “H, I'm okay. I've done this two other times. Everything is going to be okay.” She comforts Harry, the man nodding and quickly pulling himself together, feeling pathetic for having a little break down while his wife is literally about to give birth, she should be the one nearly crying- not him.
“Yeah,” Harry breathes out through his lips roughly, massaging her hips that are sunk under the warm water. Y/n sinks into his touch, her hands on her bump, rubbing over it almost trying to coax her out of there. The doula rubs at y/ns arm smiling, encouraging her and telling her she's doing great- but she isn't paying much attention, she's more focused on the main in her abdomen and wanting her little one out. “Come on already, baby” Y/n stresses, bringing her wet hand up to wipe at the sweat that has beaded at her hairline.
The process continues on slowly, the midwife continuing to check- the progress only being a half of a centimetres. Harry and Y/n both know it's only been a few hours but it's already been a long and hard (and stressful) day, their emotions are all over the place and Y/n and Harry's bodys are both going through it, of course mostly Y/n’s. “She will be here soon, sunshine. Dont stress about it, it's not good for her.” Harry whispers in her ear, holding a lemon printed glass up to her lips, periodically helping her drink a bit of water and letting her eat the ice chips that the midwife allowed her since she wasn't too far gone. She sucks from the straw, pulling away after a bit.
Harry can tell that she is starting to get frustrated, as much as she is trying to conceal it. He knows her like the back of his hand- she might snap soon and start crying and that's the last thing they need. “Hey, do you want the kids in here? Or maybe get in a different position? I know you're not comfortable, I just want you to be okay, honey.” Y/n shakily sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and shrugging.
Y/n is finally pushing. The midwife between her legs, guiding their new bundle of joy out. Harry is behind her, his arms wrapped around her, his lips over her cheeks and shoulders while he cheers her on. Then the doula outside of the birth pool, on her left, calming her and brushing her hair out of her eyes every time it flies out of her bun Harry had pulled up for her. “My god baby, you are doing amazing. Violet and Forest and going to be so excited to see you two.” Y/n breathes heavily as her head falls against his shoulder, smiling weakly at him. He places a kiss on her forehead letting his lips linger. She pushes again, her head lifting up while she tries to push out their little girl, her cheek read and hand squeezing harrys as hard as she can, growing frustrated with herself at how weak she feels, she just wants her out already.
“Dont get frustrated, honey. Everything is okay.” Harry coos into her ear, small tears starting to bead down his face. Y/n focuses on his words, closing her eyes and letting herself sink into her husband and relax for two second before she is in her birth haze again and in blinding pain trying to focus on getting their little one out. “Hey, hey, focus on getting her out. Take a minute to breathe. Everything is okay.” Their doula says, brushing her hair back, Y/n nodding and giving another hard push. “Her head is out!” the midwife announces, Harry smiling and looking down to peek at his baby. He lets out a soft silent sob when he sees her face for the first time, and even though she is covered in goo she is still one of the most gorgeous girls he has ever seen, his wife and Violet being the other ones. Y/ns cheeks are red and tears are running down her face, she's exhausted already and wishing she could push her out quicker.
“Give me a good push!” the midwife urges, making Y/n sob, tired. She gives the best push she can, the midwife maneuvering the shoulders out. Harry caresses her cheek, giving it a peck before the midwife motions for Harry to come down. “Please, comfort her.” Harry says softly to the doula, moving along in the water and meeting the midwife. The midwife directs him on what to do, telling him how to hold the baby and what exactly to do once she is fully out. “Okay, push one more time, sweetpea.” Harry says, looking up at his wife. Y/n nods, pushing one last time while Harry guides the baby out with the assistants of the midwife, their new baby now fully out, crying.
“Oh, she's beautiful, my love.” Harry smiles, holding his baby girl in his arms, cradling her to his bare chest while the midwife prepares to clean her, quickly pulling her from harry and wiping off the goo, washing off the little hair she had and cleaning out her ear, eyes, and mouth, then setting her bad in Harry's arms. “Isn't she just amazing.” Harry smiles, sitting next to his wife, preparing to cut the umbilical cord. He cuts it quickly, making sure it's cut well before kissing over her head. “Welcome to the word Lavender styles” Y/n coos, counting over her fingers and toes after placing a soft kiss on her foot.
The chaos of the house has died down, just the five members now in the house after Anne had spent a while visiting. “She's chunky isn't she?” Y/n weakly smiles, harry chuckling and nodding. Violet sitting between his legs and Forest laying on his mummas lap, the styles family tried, but happier than ever. “I was taken aback when i pulled her out, she's a healthy one.'' Harry smiles, his hand rubbing over his newborn's belly, kissing her chubby cheeks. Y/n smiles, giving her fat thigh a squeeze, “our little Lavender.” she coos, her eyes almost fluttering shut. Harry pouts, running a hand over the top of her head.
“Hey, why dont I make you something you eat, then you can go to sleep.” Y/n smiles, both her hand occupied with lulling Forest to sleep with soft scratches to his back and softly massaging Lavender's chunky thigh. “I've got to feed her.” Y/n reminds, she hast fed her yet- Harry has been a bit of a hog but she didn't mind, she loved seeing him and their babies together. “I'll go make you something sweet pea, you feed her.” Harry smiles, not taking no for an answer because he is already delicately placing her in Y/ns arms and taking Violet along with him to make something yummy.
Harry and Violet come back not too long after, Harry smiling widely as he carries a smoothie bowl with chia seeds, coconut shreds, honey, and berries over the top. Violet smiles the same smile as her daddy, carrying a big cup of water that Y/n is sure Harry made her carry with both hands and walk slowly back. “Is she eating well?” Harry asks, setting the bowl down on the bedside table before taking the cup from Violet, taking her and helping her on the bed. Y/n nods, Harry peeking at Lavender, watching as she opens her big round eyes making him chuckle, kissing her chubby cheeks. Harry sets on the bed softly so he doesn't disrupt the two or cause Y/n any more discomfort.
He collects a spoonful of the thick smoothie on the spoon, holding it to Y/ns mouth. “You're spoon feeding me?” Harry nods, nods verbally answering her because he knows if he does it would only open her up to object it even more. Y/n can't even deny it, she's weak, exhausted, emotionally and physically drained, so she of course opens up her mouth and lets him spoon feed her like he does their children. “Thank you for ever-” Harry shakes his head, instantly shushing her. “Thank you. You gave me my three beautiful children, I can never repay you. I dont know how you do it. I love you.” Harry says, smiling and pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips rest there.
“I love you.”
Hiii!! sorry for any typos!! i checked over it a thousand times so please let me know if there are any and let me know your thoughts!! There are some more blurbs to come from Y/ns pregnancy so look out for that!! there is only one more part is the cottagecore!harry series but i will still write blurbs and whatnot about cottagecore!harry so he will not be forgotten!!! thank you all for reading and supporting me and being so kind!! i love you all sm<3
tag list: @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh
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my girl (f.w.)
prompt: you always knew fred would be a great dad and every day he exceeds your expectations
pairing: dad! fred x mom! reader
warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, children (yes, children is a warning), mild language, suggestion and brief mention of sex, thunderstorm, fear of thunder/rain.
word count: 6.2k
author’s note: THIS BITCH SO LONG IM SO SORRY this is the last installment of the 60s writing challenge!! thank you to everyone who has tuned in!!
taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @valwritesx @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @amourtentiaa @sweeterthansammy @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3
It was laughable; the way Fred stared at your large pregnant belly with eyes full of anticipation, hands placed on either sides of it, waiting for your child to kick at his hands. You giggled as he gently whispered to your protruding stomach, “Come on, little one. It’s your daddy. Give us a little kick, yeah?” Your stomach remained still as he lightly groaned, only making you laugh. “This child already likes keeping me on my wit’s end,” he grumbled before kissing your belly. “I’m just teasing,” he whispered again to the bump. “I love you so much.”
You brush your fingers through Fred’s hair, him sighing as you do. Fred had been so darling over the past nine months of your pregnancy. He found more staff for the joke shoppe to take over the early morning shifts and the night shifts so he could spend those hours taking care of you, helping around the house, and preparing for the baby’s arrival. You were always Fred’s number one priority, but that was set in stone after you became pregnant. He would literally drop anything if you even murmured that you needed something. Fred would wake up first and get your prenatal vitamins ready for you to drink with a large glass of water, he’d make breakfast, clean the kitchen, and only then would he wake you up. You had to admit, you could get used to living like this. But alas, you were past your due date and the baby was expected any day now.
“She loves you too, Freddie,” you tell him as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at your husband who still rubs his hands over your stomach, searching for your unborn baby’s feet.
Fred looks up at you with questioning eyes. “She?” Fred could honestly care less about the sex of his child, as long as the baby was healthy. That’s all he could truly ask for. But secretly, deep down, Fred wanted a little girl, a princess. Someone who could be his princess since he had already found his queen.
You smiled with a shrug, “I have a feeling. I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but when you know you know, don’t you?”
With that, against the skin of your stomach, pressed against Fred’s hand is two large kicks. Fred’s eyes widen as he sits up, feeling his child kick against his hands as the two of you laugh. Fred smiles wide and says, “Is that a sign?” he stares up at you with excited eyes as you cover your mouth laughing with glee. “Is that right, baby? A little girl?” he whispers to your belly, earning another two strong kicks as the two of you laugh out with delight. “A little princess and a strong one at that!” he cheers. “We’ve got a little football player on our hands, don’t we? Well, too bad, because your daddy is going to teach you all about quidditch.”
The hospital room was quiet, no one daring to disturb the air that surrounded the newborn baby girl that was fast asleep on your chest. Her plump cheeks squished against your bare chest made you and Fred smile with delight. A healthy baby girl born after a brutally long labor, but it was all worth it. You softly kissed the top of her head, making her stir in her sleep.
You looked over at Fred to see him, gently wipe tears from his eyes as he gazed upon your newborn daughter. In this room, he had everything he’d ever wanted. The sight of your husband looking so lovingly at your daughter made your heart swell as you felt hot tears prick up behind your eyes. Reaching out, you cupped Freddie’s cheek as brushed away with happy tears with your thumb. Freddie looked up at you with eyes so tender and a smile so warm, you giggled out a sob. “She’s perfect,” he quietly spoke to you as you nodded your head in agreement.
She really was the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Her button nose and soft features rested upon her gentle skin, tufts of strawberry blonde hair poking out from the cap the hospital dressed her in. Her lips were pink and squished against your chest as small dreaming noises escaped now and again. Your darling little girl, your little flower.
“Daisy,” you spoke softly to Fred as you brushed your daughter’s cheek softly.
The two of you had spoke about what to name the baby for a while, a few names tossed around here and there, but none of them felt right. Until Daisy popped into your head.
Fred nodded his head with a happy smile, “Yeah.” In her sleep, the baby stirred at the sound of Fred’s voice, making him scoot impossibly closer to the hospital bed, leaning close to his daughter. “How do you like that, love bug?” he cooed at the sleeping baby on your chest. “Daisy,” he smiled to himself. “I love you so much. You’re going to give mommy a run for her money,” he joked, making you roll your eyes with a breathy chuckle. Fred looked up at you and placed a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we made something as perfect as she is,” he shakes his head in disbelief.
You smiled at your husband and sighed. The man before you was so perfect, helplessly in love with you and the child you created. Slowly, you peeled sleeping Daisy off of your chest and handed her over to an eager Fred, scooping her in his arms, cradling the baby close to his chest. Fred cooed down at his baby who slowly fluttered her eyes open, peering her dark eyes, that looked so like Fred’s, up at him. You laid back in the hospital bed, relaxing as you watched Fred murmur to Daisy, speaking gently and kissing her forehead and nose every now and again. As if you couldn’t fall more in love with Fred, watching him become a father was enough to make you fall in love fifty more times.
Fred rose from the chair he was sat in and started walking around the hospital room, rocking the baby and talking to her about the life she was going to have. “Just wait until Uncle George gets his hands on you,” he whispered as you silently laughed. “Grandma Molly is going to spoil the hell out of you,” he shook his head for his eyes widened and he looked at you. “I shouldn’t curse in front of our baby, should I?” he asks as you shake your head. “Damn it,” he curses again as he winces. “I’ll stop now,” he huffs making you laugh as your eyes feel heavy. The long labor had you exhausted and you had been up with Daisy feeding her and watching her alongside Fred. “Darling,” Fred cooed at you, “get some rest, please. I’ve got Daisy and she’s not due for another feeding for some time. You need to get some rest,” he tells you, walking over to the bed, helping pull the sheets up to cover you as you look up at his handsome face. “I’ll take care of our baby. Don’t worry.”
With a teasing sleepy smile on your face, you say, “I don’t know how much I trust you with a newborn child.” Fred gives you a look, making you chuckle. “I’m kidding, love, I’m kidding.” Fred kisses your forehead, your nose, and then your lips gently, him rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Fred speaks before placing another kiss to your lips softly. He sits himself in the chair again, Daisy looking sleepy again herself. He sighs before clearing his throat and gently starting to sing a melody that sounded all too familiar to you. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he sings, making your heart flutter in your chest. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May,” his voice is soothing, the vibrations from his chest calming Daisy down and putting her in a sleepy trance. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” his deep voice sings the familiar love song.
Fred looks at you as you watch him with a small smile on your face, tears welling up in your eyes. He was singing your wedding song to your baby. It felt like a dream. Being married to the man you’ve always loved, seeing him cradle your beautiful baby girl in his arms, singing the song you would dance to as teenagers. It was unreal, but somehow, you were lucky enough to be living in it.
“I got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees,” he continues to sing along, slowly putting both you and Daisy to sleep as you flutter your eyes closed, happy and safe.
The drive back from the hospital was slow. Fred insisting on not driving faster than twenty miles an hour even though the speed limit was thirty. This caused many cars on the road to change lanes and shoot Fred dirty looks.
“Fred, honey, you can drive faster than this. She’s in a car seat, strapped in very well as you made sure of before we left the hospital, and the road is very clear considering everyone has driven around you,” you tell him from the passenger seat.
He shakes his head, “No way. I am remaining as safe as humanly possible. Can’t risk putting my little flower petal in harm’s way.”
But eventually, you arrived back to your house where your friends and family awaited your arrival patiently. You turned the keys in the lock and pushed the door open, Fred following closely behind you with Daisy in her carrier. “We’re home,” you sing song out at the bunches of people who awaited your arrival in your home.
Everyone rises from the couches and chairs in your home, big smiles on their faces when they see you, Fred, and Daisy enter the door. Molly gasps and covers her mouth, tears already welling up in her eyes as Fred sighs. “Ron! Mum is already crying, you owe me two galleon!” George calls out. “I call holding it first!” George calls out.
“It?” Ginny makes fun of her brother with a light chuckle as Ron cackles from the other side of the couch, earning a pillow toss in the face from George. “I reckon I should hold the baby first considering I am going to be the godmother, right, (Y/N)?” Ginny asks.
George lets out a laugh, “Hilarious, Ginny. Last time I checked it was my twin who had the baby. Surely, I will be the godparent and the first one to hold it.”
“Stop calling the baby it!” Ginny reprimands him. “The baby is a...wait, you never told us what the baby’s sex is,” Ginny looks to you and Fred as the two of you are too preoccupied laughing at the antics of the group already. You weren’t even home five minutes and there was already arguing. “So?”
You look to Fred, giving him the honor of announcing the baby’s sex. “Everyone will get a turn holding her,” he announces as Ginny cheers out in victory, Ron owing George another two galleons, as Molly and Hermione squeal in excitement. “But who ever holds her first needs to wash their hands. I don’t want any dirty paws on my perfect baby girl,” he coos into the carrier before you take off the buckle and scoop Daisy into your arms as she stretches in your arms.
Ginny and George both make a mad dash to the sink, pushing the other out of their ways, trying to wash their hands first. You shake your head with a chuckle, and look down at your baby girl who is fast asleep still, still too young to understand the chaos of a family she was born into.
Molly laughs and speaks, “While those two battle of the soap, little do they know I already washed and sanitized my hands when I came in.” You laugh, knowing Molly Weasley came prepared to be the first one to hold her grandchild.
“Wait,” Fred stops his mother before you can pass the baby over to her. He pulls a vile of hand sanitizer from his pocket and squirts two drops in his mother’s hands, just in case. You slap his arm. “What? Can’t be too safe,” he defends himself. After Molly rubs in the gel, she looks at her son, giving him a sarcastic look. “Alright, now you can hold her,” he speaks as Molly rolls her eyes as you gently place Daisy in her arms.
Molly looks down at the newest addition to the Weasley family and her lights light up. Arthur looks over her shoulder and smiles softly at the beautiful babe in Molly’s arms. “She’s just a doll, isn’t she?” Arthur whispers as Molly cradles your daughter in her arms.
George and Ginny race back into the living room only to find their mother holding Daisy instead of one of them. George groans as Ginny defeatedly flops on the couch. “Snooze you lose, children,” she teases with a smile and George mimics her before flopping on the couch next to Ginny and Harry. Molly looks back at you and Fred with a big smile. “Well done, you two,” she beams as Fred hugs you from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head. “She’s simply beautiful.”
“Thank you, Molly,” you smile. “So, do you lot want to know her name?” you ask the group, earning a symphony of yes’s and please’s. You look up at Fred who gives you an encouraging nod. With a gulp, you reveal, “Her name is Daisy.” Hermione smiles widely and claps her hands excitedly. “Daisy Ginevra Weasley,” you finish.
Ginny’s eyes widen in shock at the baby’s middle name. It was important to both you and Fred that you had a family name in there besides the surname. You were insistent on giving Daisy Ginny’s name as her middle name. Ginny played a big factor in why you and Fred got together and she was always there for you every step of your relationship. It only seemed right to name your child after her. “You...you named her after me?” Ginny asks in disbelief as you and Fred nod your heads. “Bloody hell,” she whispers with a smile, tears making her eyes glassy, but she pushes them down with a shake of her head. “I don’t know what to say. I...” Ginny searches for the words, but just ends up running over to you and embracing you and Fred in the tightest hug.
You laugh and give her a squeeze before holding her face in your hands. “You’re my sister, Gin. It only made sense to name our first daughter after someone who means so much to the both of us,” you tell Ginny as she smiles, tears now spilling from her eyes. You wipe away the tears with your thumbs as Fred places a kiss to his sister’s forehead.
Ginny laughs before punching Fred’s arm teasingly. “Merlin, you lot have made me soft,” she wipes her tears with a sniffle, making you and Fred laugh. Molly walks over to her daughter and puts Daisy in her arms as Ginny gasps and holds the baby close to her chest. “Hello, little one,” she whispers as Fred holds you in his arms, smiling wide as he watches his little sister hold his daughter. The sight was enough to make you cry again. The person who had been so influential in you and Fred’s relationship was now holding your first born child. “Reckon you have quite a beautiful middle name, eh?” she laughs before taking a seat next to Harry on the couch.
“Georgina also has a nice ring to it. Daisy Georgina Weasley. It’s not too late, you know,” George tells you and Fred, making you laugh and Ginny give him a dirty look.
“Shut it, you wanker,” she whispers through gritted teeth.
“Ah, ah, ah! No swearing in front of the baby!” George tsks his sister before looking at you and Fred. “You don’t want a godparent who swears in front of children, now do you?” he continues to push Ginny’s buttons as she rolls her eyes, but continues to coo at Daisy who peels her eyes open and peers up at Ginny.
Fred walks towards George who sits in the living room chair and speaks, “Funny you should mention that. (Y/N) and I have both gone back and forth about this for a long while. And we decided that if anything should happen to either of us, we would want you to raise Daisy, George.” George’s eyes widen in disbelief as he looks back and forth between you and Fred as you smile widely. It was a no brainer deciding who Daisy’s godparent would be. George was the first person to know when you were pregnant, he made sure the joke shoppe could function the same now with Fred as a dad, he baby proofed his flat months in advance for Daisy’s arrival. George would be a great uncle and godfather to your child. “What do you say, Georgie?” Fred asks.
George engulfs Fred in a massive bear hug, making your heart swell as Molly wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side. Today was surely one of the best days of your life, watching your family care for this new life with so much love and tenderness. George pulls away from Fred with tears in his eyes, clearing his throat, and speaking, “Of course. Yeah, ‘course I will. If anyone lays a finger on that child consider them dead meat.” Fred laughs and hugs his brother again, the two of them sharing a tender moment.
Ginny rises from the couch and with a smile, passes Daisy over to her godfather and uncle. George holds Daisy with utmost care and carefulness. He carefully sits down and smiles at the small baby in his arms. “Hey, peanut. I’m your Uncle Georgie,” he smiles down at Daisy who yawns and stretches in his arms, pushing off her hospital cap in the process to reveal her tufts of strawberry blonde hair. “Ah, the Weasley signature,” George laughs. “Sorry about that one, (Y/N),” he winks as you laugh, sitting on the couch with Ginny’s legs folded over your lap as she kisses your cheek. “Godric, she’s beautiful, Freddie,” George gushes. “You’re gonna be a heart breaker, kid. Just like your mum before she met your dear old dad. You know it took him three times before she finally said yes to go out with him?”
“Alright, no need to embarrass me in front of my three day old child,” Fred laughs, sitting on the arm of the chair.
The whole lot of you sits in the living room, quite still, watching Daisy as she gets passed around the room, each person interacting with her, cooing at her. When she gets passed around to Ron and Hermione, Ron huffs, “So, Ginny is her namesake, George is her godparent, does that make me the cool uncle?”
With a laugh, you shake your head, “Absolutely. Every kid needs a cool uncle and aunt.”
Ron smiles, “Wicked.”
Hermione coos at Daisy, Ron gently brushing her cheek with his forefinger as Daisy yawns widely. “You are a darling,” Hermione blushes to the baby before looking at Ron with pleading eyes.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I have the daunting job of being cool uncle. Let me get that job done first before we get involved with something else,” he warns as Hermione laughs along with the rest of the group.
You look over to Fred who is already looking at you, love plaguing his eyes as you sigh happily. He smiles at you gently before mouthing an I love you, you reciprocating the action. Everything in this moment felt so right, so perfect.
“You’re coming over for dinner on Wednesday, right?” Ginny confirms with you as Harry helps her into her coat, baby Lily on Ginny’s hip.
Everyone had come over for Sunday dinner at you and Fred’s house, like every other week. But as the years went by, the dinner guest list had changed and adapted to include more people. Harry and Ginny’s first child as well as Ron and Hermione’s first child became a part of the guest list along with Angelina as she was now engaged to George. It was always something to look forward to at the end of the weekend, having family over. Not to mention, Daisy was obsessed with her cousins.
“Of course. I don’t think Daisy would let us miss it,” you tell Ginny as you kiss Harry and Ginny goodbye. “Dee! Come say goodbye Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry!” you call out to your daughter who is still running around with James, Albus, Rose, and Hugo.
Daisy, now three years old, whines, “I don’t want to say goodbye, Mummy!” She stomps her foot in protest and folds her arms in protest. Daisy loved every moment she spent with her family which only made you and Fred happier. Family was so important to the two of you and the fact that her best friends where her cousins always warmed your hearts.
You smiled at your daughter and replied, “I know, darling. But you’ll see everyone again on Wednesday when we visit Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry’s house.”
Ginny chimes in, “And when you come over, I’ll let you wear my quidditch gloves like last time. How does that sound?”
Daisy’s face lights up and she immediately runs over to Ginny and hugs her legs as Ginny scoops her up and peppers her face with kisses as Daisy laughs wildly. Daisy looked up to Ginny. She always told you and Fred how much she wanted to be like her and play quidditch and fly around on a broom and win all of the games. She even started to demand being called by her middle name and not her first name, but you compromised with Daisy Gin.
Ginny places Daisy back down before calling out, “Alright, Potters! Let’s get a move on. You boys both need a bath,” she huffs when she sees chocolate smeared over both of her boy’s faces as they giggle wildly, running to Harry as he scoops up Albus and sets him on his hip. “Maybe if Uncle Fred didn’t let you eat half of the sweets bin, you wouldn’t need a third bath today,” she speaks, ruffling her hands in James’ hair, giving Fred the stink eye.
“Cool uncles let their cool nephews eat a bit of chocolate now and again, isn’t that right, James?” Fred asks, James fist bumping him in response with a wide grin.
The Potters leave the house with a final round of goodbyes and kisses before Ron and Hermione follow suit, putting on jackets. Hermione bundles Hugo up in his rain boots and rain coat as Rose appears at your feet. “Auntie (Y/N), can Daisy and I have a sleepover again?” she asks, batting her eyes at you with the most devious smile she could conjure up.
Ron rubs his face, “Sweet Merlin, Rose, you are trouble with a capital t.”
You laugh and give Rose a kiss on her forehead, “Of course we can. How about next week you can sleepover here and we can go pancakes in the morning like last time?” Rose’s eyes widen as she and Daisy squeal with excitement.
“Come on, darling,” Hermione calls over to Rose, holding her hand out for Rose to take. “Thanks again, dinner was delicious, (Y/N),” Hermione kisses your cheek goodbye.
“Don’t mention it,” you speak. “We’re still on for drinks with Luna on Friday, right?” you ask as she nods excitedly. “Brilliant. That means cool uncle and cool dad are in charge of the kids,” you beam before giving Ron and hug goodbye.
Ron laughs, “Coolest uncle. I’ve been promoted.” You chuckle before waving goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and the kids. This just left George and Angelina which was always the toughest part of the night.
George slips on his coat as Angelina follows, before he calls out. “Alright, my flower,” he speaks. “Hit me with your best one.” He holds out his arms as Daisy giggles, running into his arms and throws her arms around his neck as George picks her up and swings her around, making Daisy squeal. “Oh, Uncle Georgie loves you so much,” he kisses her cheeks before blowing fart noises in her neck, making her laugh even harder. “I’ve got a proposal for you, my darling. How about little Daisy here helps up open up the shop next Saturday? Teach her about the family business?” he tickles her sides as Daisy giggles, Angelina watching her fiancé lovingly as he entertains the child with ease. “What do you say, (Y/N)? Dad will be there to make sure Uncle George doesn’t corrupt the child,” he teases as you roll your eyes.
You sigh and look at your husband and brother in law. “Yeah, alright,” you comply as Daisy cheers while George spins her around in victory. “Only if that means Angie and I get to have a night out on Saturday.”
Angelina laughs in agreement. “Absolutely. And it’s you lot’s treat,” she adds as you smile before giving her a hug and kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, (Y/N). Thank you again for dinner.”
You watch as George dances around with Daisy, her smiling widely. George was a brilliant uncle and godfather. He was always willing to drop anything when you or Fred needed some help with her. Not to mention, he never minded playing babysitter when you and Fred needed a night alone.
Fred sighed, “Alright, Daisy Gin, time for a bath and bed. You’ve had a long day.”
“No!” she protests, wrapping her arms tighter around George’s neck, pressing her cheek against his as George laughs.
Fred pretends to gasp, “What do you mean no?”
“Uncle Georgie stays with me!” she demands. “And Auntie Angie!”
Fred’s heart swells at how much his young daughter loved his twin and his soon to be wife. “I know you want them to stay, my petal, but it’s time for bed. Besides, we’ll see Uncle George and Auntie Angie on Wednesday,” he tells your three year old as she pouts.
George speaks, “Hey, don’t be upset. That’s very soon. And besides, next time I see you, I’ll have a surprise...” This makes Daisy’s eyes light up with joy and clap her hands. “I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you bunches.”
“Love you,” Daisy smiles in her tiny voice as George places a kiss to her cheek, Angelina placing another kiss to her opposite cheek, making Daisy giggle. Daisy is handed off to Fred as the last couple leaves with another round of hugs and kisses.
“Get home safe! And be careful on the roads! It’s supposed to storm tonight!” Fred calls out as George and Angelina hop into their car with another wave. Fred closes the door with a sigh. Now it was just you, him, and Daisy. “Alright, you,” he teases Daisy who smiles. “I think it’s time for you to take a bath,” he scoops your daughter up into his arms, taking one of her bare feet in his hand, lifting it up to his nose. He feigns disgust. “Those stink, Daisy Gin!” he exclaims as Daisy giggles. “Mummy, we’ve got a 2342! Stinky feet!”
You gasp, “A 2342?!” Daisy laughs louder. “Get her in the bath! Stat!”
With that, Fred runs up the stairs and to the bathroom as Daisy shrieks with delight as you can’t help but chuckle. Even the simplest things Fred made fun. Each day with Fred as the father of your child was an adventure. He made the simple days extraordinary and the extraordinary days out of this world. He was the center of Daisy’s world; that baby girl loved her father more than anything. Sometimes it made you a little jealous, how much she adored Fred, but you couldn’t stay mad for too long. It was just so damned adorable how she stared up at Fred with so much idolization.
From your bedroom, you could hear Fred and Daisy sing nursery rhymes in the bath, Fred doing silly voices which only made Daisy giggle. The sang, they counted, talked about animals, and colors. Each babbling conversation made your heart swell with love.
“Mummy!” you hear Daisy call from her bedroom.
“Coming, my peanut!”
You walked down the hall and into Daisy’s room, decorated in white and yellow flowers on the walls with a bookcase filled with books and toys, and her small bed with sheets adorned with Holyhead Harpies sheets as per Daisy’s request. She sat on the bed, wrapped in her towel, waiting for you to change her into pajamas. It was your favorite part of the day.
You smiled at your daughter with freshly washed hair, wrapped in a green towel. “There’s my flower,” you smiled as Daisy kicked her legs excitedly. “What pajamas are we wearing tonight? Your Harpies pajamas are in the wash, but you have your daisy pajamas from Uncle Neville and your rainbow pajamas from Auntie Luna.” Daisy thinks for a moment before requesting her daisy pajamas from Neville.
As you change your daughter into fresh pajamas, you listen to her babble about how much fun she had with her cousins and how she couldn’t wait for Wednesday. You smiled to yourself, still wondering how you were so lucky to get the sweetest, most darling little girl in the world as your daughter. You brushed her hair gently before plaiting her red hair that matched Fred’s into two pigtail plaits. Daisy smiled at herself in the mirror as you peppered her right cheek with kisses making her giggle. “I love you, Daisy Gin,” you tell her.
“I love you, Mummy,” she bats her eyelashes, looking up at you with those big chocolate brown eyes that so resembled Fred’s. All of Daisy reminded you of Fred. From her hair to her eyes to the way she spoke, it was all so Fred which only made you love your little tike more fiercely.
You carried her back to bed, tucking her in her sheets before calling out for Fred. Within seconds, Fred appeared with a smile on his face. “Bedtime for my princess,” he smiles before kneeling next to you at her bedside. “Goodnight, my baby,” he kisses her forehead as Daisy closes her eyes with a smile.
“I’m not a baby!” she protests. “I’m a big girl! Like Auntie Ginny!”
Fred smiles as you laugh. “Oh, pardon me! Goodnight, my big girl,” he corrects himself as you lean over and give your baby a kiss on the forehead.
You run your finger through the loose strands of hair that are wispy around her face. “Sweet dreams, my girl,” you speak softly.
“Goodnight, Mummy,” she speaks sweetly, enough to make your heart burst. “Goodnight, Daddy,” she coos at Fred who smiles.
The two of you shut the lights and shut the door gently. You and Fred make your way into your bedroom, getting ready for bed yourselves. As Fred shuts the door behind him, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as you sigh. He presses a trial of kisses up your neck as you smile. “She’s getting so big,” you whine, turning around and facing Fred. He places a chaste kiss to your lips.
Fred sighs. It was true. Daisy was growing up way too fast for your liking. It was exciting, watching her become her own person. But at the same time, you loved her at this age. How small and confident she was. How she thought she was so in control. It was adorable. “I don’t like thinking about it too much,” he confesses. “But...” he trails off before starting to unbutton the buttons of your shirt. “We could prevent that...if we had another...” he suggests as you smirk. “It’s been nearly three years. Don’t you think we deserve another one?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Another baby to keep Daisy company...”
You shake your head, “Fred Weasley, you are relentless.” You press a kiss to his lips and Fred deepens it, kissing you slowly and tenderly as you gently moan into his mouth. He smirks as he pushes the shirt you wear off your body. Quickly pulling away, you look at him. “Are you sure she’s asleep already? I don’t need our daughter walking in on a situation neither of us want to explain to a three year old,” you tell him.
Fred huffs before kissing you again, mumbling against your lips. “I’m sure.” You give him a knowing look as he groans, “Fine. I’ll lock the door. But you better get your ass in that bed.”
You giggle as Fred runs to the door, locking it as you crawl into the bed, a little too excited.
A few hours later, you and Fred are fast asleep, Fred shirtless, arm draped around your torso as you wear his shirt to sleep. The sounds of rain hitting the window sound through the master bedroom, the occasional rumble of thunder here and there. To you and Fred, the rain always helped you sleep, but the youngest Weasley disagreed.
Slowly, the bedroom door creaked open further. She held onto her hippogriff plushie tightly, eyes full of worry. “Mummy?” she quietly asked into the room as you stirred in your sleep, slowly recognizing the voice. “Mummy? Daddy?” she called out again.
You woke up, sitting up straight to see your baby girl standing in the door way, fear in her eyes as she clung onto her plushie. Thunder rumbled outside as Daisy gasped, scared of the noise. “Daisy? Baby, what’s wrong, petal?” you asks, sleep laced in your voice.
She ran to the side of the bed as lightning flashed, you scooping her up in your arms as she held onto you tight, shivering lightly. Sadness coursed through your body as you realized your baby was afraid of the storm that was outside. “Aw, my flower,” you cooed as you rocked her back and forth, her sniffling into your chest. “It’s okay, my love,” you speak, kissing her head.
Fred rubs his eyes and realizing that his daughter was crying into his wife’s chest. Panic rises in Fred’s voice, “Is she alright? Do I need to call a Healer? Muggle doctor?”
You shake your head no. “Our little Daisy Gin is afraid of the storm,” you whisper to Fred who nods his head. “It’s alright, baby. Mummy and Daddy are here,” you flip yourself around so Daisy can see her father. “See? We’re here, petal. Everything is alright.”
Daisy sniffles as she looks at Fred and gives him a timid wave. Fred smiles sadly at his princess and speaks, “Hello, flower. The rain woke you up, huh?” Daisy nods her head. “Bloody rain. Should I yell at the rain? And tell it to stop bothering us?” he asks, still groggy, but you can hear the smile in his voice.
Daisy giggles and nods her head as Fred rises from the bed and walks over to the window, opening it up mid-storm despite your protests. He sticks his head out of the window and screams out, “Hey! Rain! Go away!”
Your daughter laughs madly in your arms as you can’t help but chuckle. Surely the neighbors think you have lost your minds. Fred shuts the window and climbs back into bed as you and Daisy’s laughter fades. However, the laughter is replaced with another shriek from Daisy as lightning strikes and thunder rumbles. She retreats further into your chest as you rub her back, kissing her head.
An idea pops into Fred’s head as he opens his arms for Daisy to curl into. He clears his throat and starts, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.” Your heart instantly melts at the sound of Fred singing to your daughter like he did the day she was born in the hospital three years ago. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl,” he sings as he looks to you to join him.
“Talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” you join Fred as the three of you lay in the bed, Daisy cuddled in between the two of you, her sniffles fading. You continue to sing until her eyes start to flutter close and her mouth emits small snores. Slowly, you fade out as she is soundly asleep. Fred brushes his little girl’s hair out of her face with a soft smile. You are too occupied looking at Fred and how he stares at your daughter, your heart racing. As if he couldn’t be a better dad.
Fred looks at you with a smile. “I love you,” you tell him with a small shake of your head. “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more, my dear,” he speaks before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You’re my world. The two of you complete me. My girls.”
With that, you and Fred cuddle up to your sleeping daughter, falling asleep to the sounds of the rain.