#harry styles prompt
hello hello!! i would love to see a blurb from the koh universe where lily tries to fly with her wings and harry is there to help her🥺🥺
hii anon, i hope you enjoy this 💕
It first happened when Harry was in the backyard and spots Lily take a little run. His immediate reaction is to run to her and hold her so she doesn't fall down. But then he sees her eventually take a jump from across the yard and his mouth falls open.
Her big green eyes look at him, a small mischievous grin on her face because he’s just witnessed her first attempt at flying.
“You little tease,” he coos with a smile as he walks closer to her.
He watches as his daughter pretends running (flying) away from him and falls down in excitement. He's quick enough to catch her before her head thankfully doesn’t hit the floor as hard as it could’ve. A loud cry sounds throughout the yard, tears welling up in her eyes as he picks her up.
“Shh, you’re safe.” Harry wraps his deep coal black wings around her as a way to protect her. "It's over now. Dada's here.” He hushes her as she cries into his chest.
“M'sorry Dada.” Lily whimpers and Harry is quick to stop her, "Oh hush m'little bean. You're doing so good for Dada, I'm so proud of you." His wings soften around her and his lips pressed a kiss to her head. The way she has him wrapped around her tiny pinky finger is beyond him.
When they get up to Harry and Y/N's room, he sets Lily down on the cotton filled bed and Lily immediately cuddles close to her mom and makes grabby hands for Harry to join them.
“I can’t believe she’s already flying,” he mumbles as they watch Lily sleep. Y/N smiles softly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair to remove it from his face. A sad smile on his face now. “She’s growing so fast, it terrifies me.”
“Oh, I know, baby,” Y/N coos, “but she can’t stay tiny forever, you know that.”
He sighs deeply. “Yeah, I know. I just wish I could slow down time sometimes.”
“She’ll always need you, Harry. Even when she’ll say she doesn’t.”
Suffice to say, the king of hell definitely made sure his angels were always safe.
let me know your thoughts - reblogs are appreciated! and feel free to send in more requests 🌻
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what would you do in this situation, Dreea? i really wanna know
😌 what would i do if Harry cheated?
you make plans with your group of common friends to meet up at a restaurant for dinner, but instead of meeting up beforehand, you tell Harry to just meet you there to save some traffic time.
you haven't seen eachother in 2 weeks and he's busy so he doesn't really question it but you deliberately kept your distance for as long as your did
when he gets there, he's late but he doesn't know it, since you've deliberately told him to come an hour later than the rest of the gang.
when he scans the table you all are sitting at he doesn't spot an empty seat next to you and he frowns a bit, but someone points to a vacant chair and he reluctantly takes it. you're at the opposite side of the table and you are deep in conversation and he doesn't want to be rude to the friend who invited him to sit next to her
you don't acknowledge his presence, everytime you feel his eyes on you, you just make sure to smile extra brightly at that handsome guy sitting next to you that he's never seen before
Harry is getting antsy not having greeted you properly, especially after 2 weeks apart, he's missed you and couldn't wait to see you but now it's like you didn't even notice he got there
"Who is that bloke? And why's he in my seat?" Harry scoffs to the person to his right
"What do you mean? Shit. Did she not tell you she'd be bringing him?"
Harry furrows his brows "No, she brought him?" his eyes shoot daggers to this mysterious guy you've brought to the dinner, since he knows all your friends and family and knows you wouldn't bring just anyone into your group of friends
your common friend just sips on her wine and raises her eyebrows, looking away and busying herself talking to the person on her right
he can suddenly feel everyone whispering and he catches some averting their eyes as soon as they meet his and suddenly he feels like the room is getting insufferably stuffy. his eyes scan the table and notices everyone is almost clearing their plates– what gives?! he was on time for once, how did everyone order so fast and why does it feel like the night out is coming to an end already when he's barely even got there?
"Didn't think you'd show up" another common friend on his left nudges him with a slight apologetic grimace
"What the fuck is going on?" Harry asks him point blank
"I know... it feels pretty soon for her to be on a date already, right? Not to mention introduce him to the group. I don't know what went on between you two, but when she called to have us all hang out to introduce us to the new guy she's going on a first date with, we were all kinda... shocked, to be honest"
Harry just blinks at him and then his eyes go to his lap. he can't bring himself to look over to you. not when all this registers and it finally hits him. hard.
you're here with your date. your "new guy".
you'd never do that to him, ever.
unless... you found out, somehow.
when he reluctantly lifts his gaze up he's met with your icy cold glare. you just look at each other for what seems like minutes on end, and although you could see all the pain and anguish and repentance you can also still picture him fucking her, touching her like he'd touch you, being at his most vulnerable like only you should've seen him.
you peel your eyes away and put on a fake smile for your even faker date, who was in reality just a really good looking guy (petty, maybe, but effective) that was hooking up casually with one of your besties. she'd "lent" him to you for this noble cause. you grab his hand as sweetly as you could muster, even though you were dying on the inside, and stood up, announcing your departure since you two had "a movie to catch". after all, this was your "first date".
when you approach Harry's side of the table and your friends all seem caught up in their own chatter, you can't help but lean over his shoulder, feeling him tense up immediately "all that acting is really paying off, baby. you were so good. hey, fooled me! oh, and congrats for tonight as well, you really reigned it in, our friends are none the wiser! hope you enjoyed my little stunt act as well, hm?" you leaned in closer, almost brushing your lips against the shell of his ear "a lil taste of your own medicine"
you then grab your "date"'s hand once more and with a final enthusiastic wave you leave and never look back.
you know he regrets it and that it was probably just a spur of the moment, meaningless thing, but you also know that acting as though he was dead to you was killing him. you knew his collosal ego was his Achilles' heel, and that replacing him like that in front of his friends, acting like you couldn't care less about his presence and then actually ghosting him and not giving him a chance to plead his case was going to crush him.
all your friends tell you how devastated he's been after that dinner, and you want to feel good about it... but you still love him and it hurts like a motherfucker. not that he'd ever know the truth of it.
it was high time though that Harry learned to control his wandering hands 💔
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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!!!!
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prompt (from kofi donation): Maybe you can write a few sentence about Ezzie dressing up as a baby bat 🦇 for Halloween and no one of his siblings thinks he’s scary so Daddy has to pretend he is!
Thanks bear anon! Hope you enjoy 💕
Ezra was freshly four and determined to be as scary as possible for Halloween this year because he was just so exited to learn about that emotion.
Patricia, his therapist, had been working on different emotions with him - normally spending two to three sessions on each one.
Last session was learning about being scared or fearful.
Harry had just gotten in from San Diego but wasn’t going to miss his son’s weekly appointment for the world - they scheduled them around his away games so he’d always be there.
He was dead tired, yes.
It didn’t matter though because making Ezra feel better and less anxious was more important than anything else.
Harry and YN were sat on the floor with Ezra as Patricia sat in her chair, the young boy was nestled into his fathers lap, staring wide eyed at the picture cards in front of him.
“Okay, Ezra. Can you tell me something that you think is scary?” Patricia probes, reviewing their past hour of hard work.
He shrinks back into his father with a whine, unsure and nervous but YN is reaching over and murmuring softly, “C’mon, Ez. Doing so good, almost done.”
“Mama and daddy are s’proud, answer Miss. Patricia now, honey,” Harry adds supportively, rubbing his back.
“I..I ge-get scared when daddy goes away,” Ezra whimpers shakily, “S’scary.”
YN watches the way her husband’s shoulders deflate, a bit of sadness and blame as he swallows hard, continuously rubbing his back.
“Oh? Why is that scary?” The therapist tone is friendly and inquisitive enough that Ezra doesn’t feel like she’s ordering him to answer.
“S’scary ‘cause I miss him and ge-get scared he wo-won’t come home,” Ezra sniffles, turning his face into Harry’s shirt to hide.
YN’s heart breaks a little bit when she sees Harry’s reaction to the words his son spoke. He looks at the ground for a moment, biting his lip as he gathers himself.
He has always felt guilt about being away so much during season.
“Bubby, I always come home. Yes?” Harry reminds him, hugging him a bit closer, “Daddy will always always come home to you, y’mama, y’brothers, and Briar.”
“Validate his feelings, Harry,” Patricia offers kindly, directive but not too demanding - reminding him.
Harry looks up at her, nodding and turning Ezra to look at him so they’re making eye contact, “I understand why that would be scary. It’s okay to feel scared when I’m away but mama will also always keep you safe.”
Patricia gives him a nod that he did a good job and YN reaches over to rub his shoulder, adding, “Ezzie if you’re ever scared when daddy is away - y’can always ask mama to call him, okay?”
So yes scary.
He had picked up from his older brothers that sometimes scary was fun, that he could be scary to get a reaction.
Ezra had decided that he was going to be a bat for Halloween, a little black costume with the detailed of the animal’s skeleton ***.
He deemed it very scary so he thought it would be perfect for scaring his older brothers who always tried to do it to him.
It was a few hours before trick or treating, all the kids were excited but Ezra insisted on getting into his costume early.
Ezra decides on Easton, eight, first, who is sitting on the floor in his bedroom - attempting to create a massive house from legos.
“Boo!” The youngest boy squeaks, jumping in front of his older brother with the arms spread and as scary of a voice as possible.
Easton just looks up, unfazed and says, “I like your costume. S’cool!”
The little bat huffs, deciding that he might have a better chance with Cash and Briar who were in the playroom.
He jumps out from the doorway again, Cash doesn’t even look up from his puzzle and Briar does look at Ezra but she just giggles and smiles at him.
Ezra is definitely feeling defeated by this point, head hung a little lower because he couldn’t be scary and he wanted to be so bad!
Little did he know that Harry had caught him trying to scare his two siblings and fail from where he was in the kitchen.
Harry makes a grand show of whistle and acting oblivious to the little bat sneaking into the kitchen, despite the fact he isn’t good at hiding yet.
Ezra takes a deep breath before shouting, “Boo!”
In full dramatics, which Harry is very good at, he acts liked he’d just been completely startled - the box of crackers in his hands dropping to the floor as Harry let’s out a faux yelp of surprise.
“Oh my goodness! I thought you were a real bat, Ezra Duke! Y’scares daddy so much!” Harry gasps with wide eyes and a hand in his chest, “Y’so scary, bub!”
And it was totally worth it.
Ezra’s whole face lights up when he realizes he managed to scare his dad which was even better than doing it to his siblings.
The young boy is belly-laughing and near tears with how funny his father’s reaction was, managing to squeak out, “Got you, daddy!”
Harry growls, stalking over and scooping Ezra up to nip at his cheeks, “You got me. Made me drop m’crackers! Y’did sucha good job. Should we go scare mama?”
“Yes!” He automatically agrees, allowing Harry to carry him through the house, upstairs to where YN is sat on their bed - folding a mountain of clothes.
Harry sneaks them around the corner, popping out and let’s Ezra squeal out an excited boo!
YN looks up, already in her motherly instincts despite not being surprised - she could hear her youngest boy giggling wildly in the hallway.
“There’s a bat in the house, Harry! Oh no, there’s a bat!” She points at Ezra with a surprised expression, dropping the article of clothing she was folding.
“S’just Ezzie, mama!” The child laughs, Harry tosses him playfully on the bed and he crawls up to his mother, “S’me, mama!”
“Whoa, bubby. I thought you were really a bat! I was so so scared!” YN replies, bopping him on his little nose with a grin of her own.
And just his parents responding like that, well it makes his whole night and one day, when he grows up - he’ll vaguely remember this memory with great fondness of how wonderful and supportive his parents are.
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okay so harry and y/n have a fight (they're in a relationship) it's nothing serious but harry is too stubborn to admit his mistake and the reader is too mad to confront him about it so the day goes with them throwing petty comments at eachother and at night the reader goes to sleep in the guest room bcz she's mad but harry doesn't want to sleep without her so he gets in bed with her cuddles with her and apologies and then they both fall asleep cuddling
Hey! So, I used a name for this story. But it was only mentioned twice, so feel free to change it in your mind while you read, I just wanted to try it out. Enjoy!
It was all over something so minuscule. Although neither of them would ever admit that. I mean honestly, it would have taken a simple, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” for all of this to have been avoided. But nevertheless, pride was an incredibly big part of both their personalities, only during instances like these, it never worked in their favor.
He’d forgotten they’re date night. A date night that was being looked forward to; obviously not by Harry, but by Elysian. It had been so long since the last time they took a night for themselves, a night to go out, a night to feel as though they weren’t being sucked into the confines of their work offices.
Maybe that’s why you were taking this entire ordeal so personally. You were ready to have a night out with your boyfriend; and he’d forgotten. Was he not excited? Did he not want to spend time with you? Were you not worth a night out?
They were all thoughts and questions running through your mind like a blur as you heard the door open and close with stealth; quietly. He knows. He knows he’s forgotten. And he sure as hell knows you aren’t pleased with him.
You were upstairs, in your shared bedroom, and as you began to get dressed for bed, discarding your shirt, now standing in only your bra and panties, you quickly climbed into bed, not allowing him to know you were awake; awake and upset. You heard the door open, and you could practically feel the uneasiness radiating off of him. “El?”, you heard him call in a quiet voice, as though he was scared of waking you, and starting an argument.
You merely allowed yourself to lie there, your head tucked into the pillow, your back facing him as he climbed into bed, pretending to be asleep. You never faced away from him. He knew you were upset, but rather than invoking an argument then and there, he opted for allowing things to unfold in the morning.
Waking up, you felt the cool breeze of the air hit your skin, causing goosebumps to arise on your arms and legs. Shifting in an attempt to pull your blanket further up your body, you felt the weight of an arm wrapped around your torso, and came to the realization that throughout the night Harry had snuggled himself into you. By no means were you an early riser, but you couldn’t help and feel the weight of the disappointment from last night's events overwhelm you, and with that you forced yourself out of bed, but not before carefully removing Harry’s arm from around you.
Getting out of bed, you quickly head for the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in an attempt to wake yourself up. It wasn’t a half hour later before you heard Harry’s footsteps descending the staircase, his body quickly entering your line of vision. His eyes were extremely puffy, his hair ruffled, and the only piece of clothing he was wearing hung low on his hips showcasing the beautiful tattoos all around his body.
God it was hard to be upset with him.
“You got out of bed without me. Left me there”, he rasps, a pout appearing on his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Oh? We’re play stupid now? Okay.
It was no secret that Harry knew what he’d done the previous night, and it was certainly no secret that you were upset about it, it was shown in your actions, in the way you narrowed your eyes at him, and the words that came out of your mouth, “Doesn’t feel very nice does it? To be left alone?”, you tried for nonchalance in your tone, but the bitterness couldn’t have been avoided. You were upset. And he was refusing to acknowledge that it was his doing.
His eyes widened, clearly surprised with how direct you were with the jab you took at him, but he quickly became defensive, “I was working.” he snapped, in a tone almost as harsh as yours.
You were taken aback, why was he upset?
“You always are”, you sneer, your words full of venom and spite. Why couldn’t he just admit he made a mistake? Why couldn’t he just apologize? All you need is an apology. But what good is one if you have to beg for it?
“Unbelievable. I can’t even work now without reprimanding?”, he murmurs, clearly those words not being meant for you to hear. “Of course you can. Just don’t make promises if you don’t plan on following through with them, yeah?”
And that’s how the rest of the day panned out. Quiet mumbles of words the both of you didn’t dare speak louder than a whisper, but the other always heard. They were petty comments. But comments that hurt nonetheless.
“Biggest fucking ego…”
“Always breaks his promises…”
“Can’t even go to work now…”
“So fucking irritating…”
By nightfall, you were exhausted, both emotionally and mentally. Spending the entire day bickering with the love of your life is not what you had in mind. You were no longer sure if you’d be capable of sleeping beside him; his body near you, but his affection and thoughts elsewhere entirely. No.
Impulsively you headed for the guest room. You’d never slept there. But it’s said there is always a first to everything, unfortunately, this is one of those instances. Walking in, the room felt cold, the air still, likely because it was never used, it lacked the warmth of your bedroom, Harry’s warmth.
I should have apologized. I know I should have. There’s no excuse other than the fact that I can be prideful. Hearing her snap at me, accusing me of often leaving her alone, it put me on the defensive. Walking into our bedroom, and realizing she was nowhere to be seen, I knew that I should have apologized.
It was when I called her cellphone and there was no answer that I began to panic. Where was she? Has she left? Her clothes are still here. But her pillow and blanket are missing. She’s downstairs.
Rushing down the steps, I head for the guest room and pray the door isn’t locked. I can’t sleep without her. I refuse to. Fortunately, the door opens, and it’s then that I see her body, she’s asleep, her face snuggled into her pillow, her arms clutching another, and her body on it’s side because she hates sleeping on her back.
Lying down beside her, I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into me, and begin to pepper kisses up her shoulder, hoping to gently coax her out of her sleep. It isn’t long before she wakes up, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, eyes squinted, glancing at me over her shoulder, “What’re you doing here?”
“Couldn’t sleep without you”, I mumble into her shoulder, quickly following with, “I’m sorry. I s-should have said it sooner. I’m sorry for not showing up, for breaking my promise, and for taking so long to a-admit that I was wrong.”
My eyes began to well up with tears, my voice quivering. It was such a small mistake that was blown out of proportion by my ego. She’s never slept in the guest room, she’s never had a reason to even consider it; I drove her to that.
She shuffles over, her body suddenly facing me, and her hands cup my cheeks, thumb swiping over the tears that began to fall, and she begins to reassure me, “It’s okay. Hey - look at me, it’s okay, that’s all I needed to hear baby. Bruised my ego a bit that you stood me up, that’s all.”
“N-No, it’s not okay. You’d said I put my work before you. M’sorry for making you feel that way, y’shouldn’t have to f-feel that way” I blurted out, attempting to make her understand she comes before everything in my life. Anything in my life.
“Harry, love, it’s okay. I didn’t mean it. I was upset. I’m sorry for what I said. C’mere”, almost immediately, she slots her leg between mine, her arms thrown around my neck, and presses our foreheads together. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? Promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
First and Foremost, thank you for requesting! Feel free to send me more!
Secondly, I tried a Harry’s POV.. what do we think.. I’m still new guys, don’t be too hard on me. LMFAO.
Also, as always, I appreciate feedback, and requests are always welcomed! If you enjoyed this, please like, reblog, or simply comment, it really helps. Have an amazing day!
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Summary: [3.7k words] Harry is alpha of his pack and you are his human mate. Often he’s setting rules and orders to keep everyone protected and safe, but as his girlfriend and mate you have to test his patience and break his rules. And as your boyfriend and alpha, Harry has to make sure you listen.
!! WARNINGS: supernatural life mentioned throughout the entire fic, pure flithy smut, slight degradation kink, choking, spanking, oral (male receiving), breeding kink and unprotected sex.
special gif credits to: @harrysimpact <3
Summer is probably the season with the highest amount of hunters as it is the season where it is easiest to find werewolves. Summer is always the best time for pack training and to start or end pack rivalries.
Harry asked you to be his girlfriend three years ago and two years ago he realised you were his mate, thanks to his mother talking some sense into him and explaining all the obvious signs.
Being the alpha of the pack brings a lot of responsibility and Harry can be extremely stern and strict. But with you, he is the biggest softie. He finds his comfort in you, you’re his missing piece. Almost everyone in the pack teases you about how easy he goes on you. However, one undeniable feature about Harry is that he is extremely overprotective of you, especially in the summer. His eyes are always on you. What worries him, even more, is that you aren’t a werewolf and don’t have the same instincts as him or the rest of the pack.
One rule that Harry sets every summer is the pack curfew, which is that any member of the pack has to be inside of the household between the hours of 12 AM- 6 AM unless they have a valid reason to be out or inform Harry where they are and why they are there. It’s not that he stops anyone from leaving, everyone is very much free to leave when they want, it’s just vital they inform him, especially since it’s such a dangerous time of year. He can’t afford for a member of his pack to disappear.
Even though his pack is known for having the best training, thanks to Harry’s amazing teaching techniques, Harry is still worried about anyone facing any kind of trouble, any time past midnight is usually the time when trouble comes, meaning Harry had to set the curfew to avoid unnecessary conflict or issues.
You do have a valid reason, yet it is 1:22 AM and you are completely oblivious to the time. It is your best friend’s birthday party and you don’t even know where your phone is, so you are unaware of the time and the 23 calls from Harry and the dozens of texts. Harry didn’t mind when you told him you would be attending, you even asked if he wanted to come but he decided to stay at home, he just really insisted on you coming home by 1 AM. In his eyes that was generous as he barely lets the rest of the pack out until midnight. He even offered to pick you up, but you promised him you would be back by 1 and if you’ve decided to stay out longer you will inform him that you are okay. That is an agreement you shook on.
Currently, you’ve lost complete track of time, you’re dancing on tabletops and taking body shots off your friend and you are so unaware of your phone ringing in your bag that sits on the opposite side of the room. You aren’t drunk, maybe slightly tipsy, but you are having an amazing time and you have completely forgotten about how Harry wanted everyone in the house by 1 AM.
Meanwhile, Harry is sitting back on the couch, his left ankle resting on his right thigh that is bobbing up and down at a rapid rate. His phone is clenched in his hand, eyes stern as his thumb speeds across the keyboard to type yet another message.
“Mate, stop being so crazy Alpha and let her live. She's a human, she’s not going to be targeted by a hunter.” Mitch speaks up from the opposite side of the room, in an attempt to try and calm him down, but it only riles him up more.
“Fuck off, Mitch, you don’t understand,” Harry mumbles, sliding his phone onto the glass coffee table, nearly breaking it with the amount of force he uses from all that built-up frustration.
He hates when people accuse him of not letting you live your life. Especially when you're a college student who is still enjoying life and finding yourself. He isn’t trying to hold you back in any way shape or form. Once again, he’s just protective and if you wanted to stay out until 4 AM he would never stop you. Just right now he’s panicked, upset, worried and frustrated that you aren’t answering when you promised you would.
Mitch raises an eyebrow at Harry and scoffs lightly. “Why don’t I understand?” And Mitch knows he shouldn’t have asked that question when Harry's head whips towards him and his glare is enough to kill him.
“You aren’t an Alpha, ye’ don’t know what it is like to run a pack single-handed and on top of that having a human mate who is one of the biggest targets in the pack because if hunters, rivals or anyone know that if they get here, they’ve got me and that is their goal, t’get me so they can kill me,” Harry explains with aggression running through his voice, a low rumble emitting from his chest as he shoots daggers at his Mitch. He’s never spoken so fast in his life.
Harry being on high alert, due to him being so anxious, lets him easily hear the clink of your acrylic nails against the metal handle at the front door and he stands up abruptly, leaving Mitch to sit and feel sorry for him in the living room. Just as he leaves the room and enters the hallway you accidentally slam the door behind you and he hisses, rubbing his ear in pain, due to the noise being too loud for his high sense.
His eyes were glowing yellow instead of that fairy green colour they usually are. He feels the anger in his body rise when his nose scrunches up to inhale your usual scent, but the smell of men’s cologne and alcohol fills his nostrils instead.
Your eyes meet his pair of golden ones and yours instantly softened, trying to pull off the typical innocent looks that make him fall to his knees every single time, but this time he crosses his arms across his chest and holds his head high, letting out a loud huff.
“I’m sorry I’m a little late past curfew,” You mutter out an excuse, taking steps towards him and raking your fingertips down his bare chest, fingers hooking into his grey joggers, that show every single line of him. He barely ever wears casual clothes, but when he does, for some reason it has you on your knees for him.
He lifts his head from the intense stare he has on you to glance over at the clock for a split second, he soon turns back to gaze at you again. “3 hours. 3 fuckin’ hours Y/N, I was just about t’get dressed and come pick ye’ up” He explains with an aggravated tone as he pushes your hands off him, gently. Even though he is mad at you, he is still so soft and gentle with you and you love it.
“Hey, you said I have to be back at 1, it’s only-” You look up at the clock that is hung near the doorway. “3:30...” You say softly and if guilt was a language you would be speaking it right now. “So technically I'm only 2 hours and 30 minutes late,”
“Ye’ promised you would call me.” Harry brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and lets his eyes shut tightly. “What am I going to do with you?” He mumbles, probably a rhetorical question but you decide to answer, hoping to lift the mood.
“I’m sure you can think of something, Alpha.” you tauntingly say, playing with the strings of his jogging bottoms while looking up into his eyes with a provoking smile.
Once again, he pushes your hands away and steps away from you. “Get some water, m’going upstairs,” he informs you and you watch his head upstairs into your shared bedroom.
Great. You would’ve much rather preferred to listen to one of Harry’s lectures than deal with him being moody. The best thing for you to do right now is to follow his orders. So you just grab a water bottle out of the kitchen and bolt upstairs, to go beg for forgiveness.
“Harry,” you say softly, taking a seat on your side of the bed, facing your boyfriend who is laying back, staring at his phone, almost all of his tattoos on show. Your biggest weakness.
He hums at you in reply, not bothering to divert his eyes. “H,” you whine, letting your hand rest on his lower abdomen, fingertips drawing random shapes.
“Stop.” he tuts, gripping onto your wrist and pushing it away from him, but you don’t stop there. You lean forward, taking his phone out of his hands and murmuring his name once more. Finally, his eyes look into yours but they blaze a dark golden hue as soon as they meet yours. “Y/N, I said stop.” his chest rumbling as he grumbles out his orders to you.
Harry goes to snatch his phone back, but you quickly retract your hand back. “But, I want your attention.” you fuss, getting closer to his face with a tormenting look on your own.
His eyes flash red for a short second, as his hand comes up to grip your throat with slight pressure, slamming you back onto the bed and staring into your eyes. His fangs were poking out along with the low growls that are emitting right from the centre of his chest and it is an understatement to say you are soaking at the sight of the angry Alpha.
“You’re a little brat, I taught you better than this,” he mumbles at you, with a slight tone of annoyance.
“Shut the fuck up!” he barks and tightens his hand around your throat, you now feeling your wetness drip down your thighs and you don’t know if you regret not wearing any underwear or if you think it will be a blessing in disguise that is soon to be discovered. “Get over my lap.”
You quickly obey his orders as he sits at the edge of the bed and you lay across his lap, biting your lip so hard in anticipation that you think you can taste your own blood seep into your mouth.
His hands grip onto the hem of your short, black, satin dress and they pull the material up to the pool at your waist. You can hear the sharp inhale that Harry takes. “No knickers on, think it’s cute, eh?”
“There were cute guys there.” Spank. You let out a large yelp at the feeling of his hand coming down on your ass cheek, the pain moulding into pleasure, taking over your body.
“Four more and each one I want ye’ to tell me why y’are being punished, got it?” You ignore him, too in your own bratty universe to even think of a sarcastic answer to reply with. That is until Harry grips onto your hair, pulling you back so you can look into his eyes. “Got it?” he repeats himself, expecting an answer this time.
Nodding in reply, you spit out a, “Yes, Alpha.” and he lets go of your hair, allowing you to fall back down onto his lap and once again you are biting your lip in anticipation, knowing your body falls apart when he is angry, you get so turned on and you can’t even help it.
When you’re deep in your thoughts of what he is going to do, his hand comes down onto your ass once again but with a little more force. “Speak, brat.” He demands when he hears nothing from you.
“I’m being punished because I stayed out after curfew.” You breathe out, eyes closing in the pleasure that is radiating through your body.
He hums in reply, clearly content with your answer as his hand massages the reddened area of your ass. He was going to tell you to speak up due to how quiet you are being, but he decides to cut you some slack.
He wastes no time with letting his hand come down once more, making sure he adds a little more force. “I-I’m being punished because I teased you.” His hand comes down again and you yell out in shock.
“Who did ye’ tease?”
“Alpha, I teased you, Alpha.”
“Good pup, two more left.” he praises you, making you let out a small whimper in reply, him knowing you have the biggest praise kink, but then you also have the biggest degrading kink so you never know what is coming from him.
Harry’s large hand grips onto your ass that is nearly covered in his handprints and now you are just waiting for the next hit and it comes quicker and harsher and you are pretty sure a couple of drops of your wetness hit the floor. “I’m being punished because I broke pack rules.” And he hums in reply.
“One more.” As soon as he mumbles them two words, you received your final slap and this one made you yell out in such immense pleasure, you fell limp in his lap. “I’m being punished because I disobeyed you, Alpha.”
“Good girl.” He pushes you back onto your knees and watches your eyes that are threatening to spill from all the pain you received but most importantly the pleasure that took over your entire body.
The broad hands that have caused an art piece across your ass, come down to grab your tiny ones and he places them on his grey joggers as he stands tall and looks down at you. The look he flashes at you is practically sending telepathic signals to your brain, telling you to get his dick out and get to work. And that is exactly what you are about to do.
Pulling his trousers down to his ankles so he can step out of them and kick them away, you watch the way his cock springs up and hits his abdomen. You could feel yourself drooling over him and he was eating it all up. His narcissism and huge ego couldn’t handle it.
The way the vein runs up the side of his cock which is throbbing in anticipation and the way he is twitching every so often, waiting to gain some kind of friction. He is so needy he thinks he might cum just at the sight of you and the way pre-cum is spilling out of him, he thinks he might already be doing so.
“Ye’ just gonna stare at it or are you gonna le’me fuck your mouth?” He asks to which you open your mouth as wide as you can and stick out your tongue for him. Harry isn’t just long but he is thick as well and you find it difficult to keep all of him in your mouth, you find it difficult to cope with any part of him.
The back of your head is being held by Harry's hands as he slowly enters into your mouth, tongue swirling around him and lips enclosing, letting your mouth immediately hollow and your innocent eyes look into his darkened ones.
He’s done for. You do things to him that he can’t even comprehend. he feels dizzy when he pushes into that tight little throat of yours, feeling like all the weight put on his shoulders from this past couple of weeks from pack rivalries, broken rules and constant threats, has been lifted. He doesn’t even know if he has the strength to move. But, he is unintentionally pushing himself down your throat and as the tears spill out of your eyes and your heavy breaths are hitting his lower abdomen every single time he shoves the whole of him down your throat.
His grunts are filling the room along with your gags, the sound that he loves to hear and this time they are loud and he doesn’t know if he is going too fast, but when he looks down and your eyes are streaming with tears, he can’t help but speed up and wrap your hair around his hand so he can allow himself to have more of a steady pattern to his thrusts.
“God, look at ye’. Taking me like the good fuckin’ human you are, always obeying ye’ alpha.” He doesn’t even know how that sentence has come out of his mouth, even though his wolf stamina is so high and it takes a lot for him to get breathless, he is panting like he has just run a marathon. “Gonna let alpha cum down that tight little throat? Gonna let me cum all over that pretty little face.” You hum in reply to his comment and he sighs in pleasure, the vibrations running through his heavy member.
Reaching a hand down, you fondle with his balls that are less than minutes away from releasing and he nearly hunches over from the pleasure that runs through his veins.
Harry barely ever has the time to get head from you, his schedule is so busy that he can only ever fit in a quick fuck with you right before bed and sometimes there is barely any time for that, so right now he is indulging in the feeling of your mouth on him, your throat constricting him, your wet mouth coating him. And all of that just overwhelms him, before he knows it, he is spilling into your mouth, a string of curse words releasing as he brings himself to pull out of your warm mouth and stroke himself, letting his hot spurts of cum cover your face, some landing on your tongue that is stuck out waiting for him.
“Work of art.” He breathes out, almost breathless from the thrill that his body has just gone through. You don’t even have the time to wipe the cum off your face before he is standing you up, slinging your dress on the other side of the room and throwing you on the bed. “Face down, arse up.”
Typical Harry. An ass man. Every time he slips past you in the kitchen he taps your ass. Every time you help out and bend over in pack training, he grasps your ass. Every single time you are out in public his hand is resting on your ass. And after he has just painted it red, he wants to see his masterpiece in full form while he destroys you.
He shows no mercy, ramming into you and letting you scream out his name as the tip of him taps against your cervix. So deep. So rough. So fast. He knows how you like it and the way his name leaves your lips he feels like he is committing some heavenly sin. “Not my name, pup.” He grits out, his rapid pace not altering as your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape and your eyebrows knit together, you already feel that knot in your stomach tightening.
“Say. My. Name.” Harry grumbles, saying each word between a harsh and rough thrust.
“Alpha! Oh my God, Alpha, fuck, Alpha!” You cry out, feeling his rhythm speed up once again, making you tighten around his thick cock, resulting in the man who is ploughing into you letting out a low whimper, a wolf-like cry.
“God, M’gonna fill you up so well. Gonna fill you up with all my pups, going to knot you so fuckin’ well, just ye’ wait you bratty little girl.” He groans out, whispers of curse words following shortly after as he looks down to watch himself slip in out of you and he sees your cream coating his cock. He can’t cum yet. He keeps repeating it in his head as his fingertips dig into your hips, leaving premature bruises and his head tips back, eyes clenched shut. It’s too early for him to cum. He’s losing all feeling of his legs and his muscles are tensing in a way they have never before. God, what has happened to his stamina? Has it completely erased?
Harry doesn’t even realise he is hitting your g-spot repeatedly at an angle he accidentally shifted to when he tipped his head back. He thinks he’s done something wrong when the screams escape your lips and he feels bad for a split second for the other members of the pack who have to hear this, but as soon as he feels you squirting on his thighs, the bedspread, even his fucking chest, all guilt is forgotten and he releases inside you, each thrust spilling out another warm spurt, filling you to the brim.
His knot. Something that happens after every werewolf releases in their mate, especially alpha’s. His cock throbs and he is stiff, unable to move until he calms down, until his fangs, claws and eyes retract back to normal. The growls, the low rumbles, the constant low howls, you are such a sucker for it. His thighs and forearms are trembling and he twitches every so often, driving you crazy.
Once he can pull out, you collapse down onto the bed, face smushing into the pillow and stomach laying against the damp sheets, while Harry rolls next to you, hairline sweaty and hands still shaking.
“Think that’s the first time you’ve had a full-body orgasm Styles.” your hand coming up to scratch his chest slowly, tracing that significant butterfly and making him emit deep purrs from the simple touch. Such a puppy.
“It’s the first time I’ve got to fuck ye’ properly since winter,” he replies, shaking his, inhaling sharply and running both his hands through his thick hair.
“Well let’s make the most of it, I know you can fuck me for at least another 4 rounds.”
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cockwarming with harry;
Summary: just a lil drabble I wrote in the moment
Pairing: Harry Styles x reader
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, kinda smut I guess, cockwarming obviously, erections, past implied sex
Word Count: 837
Winter was coming, as George R R Smith would say, the bitter chill in the air bit at the nudity that was exhibited of your body beneath the lumpy duvet. A body was tangled behind you, arms flabbergasted either side of his head as he shuffled and groaned with his restless sleep, his eyes were closed and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness, however his toes were cold as they peeled out at the edge of the cover, twitching from the low temperature that tickled them. It would have been wiser to have adorned your skins in articles of clothing, but the pair of you had been far too tired for that after your strenuous activities that had pants ghosting from the swollen flesh of your lips free falling through the silent air, and the production of sweat that made your crevices supple and requiring a cleanse, to which could wait until the morning after as some called it.
Harry reaching his limp arms out, your ribs lurching from the freezing thaw that excerpted from his skin, as he wrapped them perfectly around you, bundling your back to his inked front. Your head shrove deeper into the pillow below as your hips angled back, rolling against him in prayers that perhaps your bodies clashed in a close union would provide some well desired heat, instead though it rattled a broken moan from within your partner’s chest as his fingers clawed at your waist, pausing any administrations that were provoking him. “Too tired love, in the morning.” It was currently 12:35, and whilst that did not seem terribly late, it was rather a task to continue on with your earlier session after the long and gruelling day that you had shared, travelling to meetings together, the weekly grocery shop, and worst of all buying new tubs of paint for the hallway which you had began to gloss over in the new nude colour.
In reply you simply hummed, not overthinking your actions as you did it again. Harry pleaded you to stop and only then did you realise the result of your intimate digression; his cock was straining against the ripe peaches of your bosom, profusely solidified with arousal as the man that the appendage belonged to attempted to cool himself. There was no annoyance that resonated in his tone, he was simply knackered to put it into simpler terms, sex wasn’t on your agenda either, and thus you explained the dubiousness of your affections. “Just wanna be close to you, as close as possible.” You exploited the truth, rolling your shoulder back so that you could peak over it and view his intrigued eyes that shon emerald even in the bleak lighting of the room that was defined by the shallow moonlight streaking through the gap that was swept between the yielding curtains.
“I ‘ave an idea, just stay still for me angel.” It took no discussion to allow him to pry on with his brilliant idea, you trusted your loving boyfriend of two years, there was not anything that you had concerns about in the slightest, he was a true gentleman which was rare in this day and age, practically a diamond in the rough. Relaxing upon the mattress once more, you thought little of him reinventing the position that your thigh was in as he hiked it up a little ways, your eyes did widen though when he plunged his length through your opening, stretching you solely with the purpose of being slow. Expectations roused in your chest of him moving in firm glides, escalating the situation into a whim of something more, but instead he settled once more behind you, his hips rousing against your ass cheeks as he glued against you like an attachment, his head resting in the elegant crook of your neck.
So this was his idea, remaining still inside of you until the morning came, it was quite a sweet notion, and before you knew it Harry had drifted off into a meddle free slumber, snores vibrating out from his nostrils as his cock softened within you, tucked into your cavernous insides which had brought a flush of warmth over the rest of your body. For a moment you laid there, clenching around his girth and stringing unconscious moans out from your lover’s lips, until finally you dozed off too, being escorted into heaven and beyond when your eyes clasped shut, the duvet you dragged closer against your naked chest as you hugged it against you, a content smile fabricating onto your features as you thought about how connected you were with your partner, and how it felt so right. It was peaceful, and it was the best sleep of all exemplary methods that you had ever received on a telekinetic level, it was as though the whole world had turned into clouds above you as you rose through the sky, becoming a saint who had unknowingly sinned for commending such drastic measures before the marital laws.
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Ooh can you do 85 on the prompt list??
Prompt List Request
85. "That was private"
Warning: slight mention of smut, but not much!
AN: Also I felt like this idea would fit perfect in the One Direction era!
The four boys were sat in the games room in your house, Harry's laptop connected to the projector. They were in the process of making a surprise film for you for your 21st birthday, complete with baby photos, home videos from your parents, photos of you throughout your life, videos of your greatest adventures and messages from your friends and family.
"I haven't gone through these yet, but these are all the photos and videos I have of and with her from the last 6 years...I need to pick out a few." Harry yawns softly as he scrolls. "Well why don't you pick yours out first and then we will fill the rest in" Louis suggests as he sits down beside Harry, sipping on a beer.
Harry nods as he skips through, he lands on a specific video and instantly regretted clicking play. He couldn't remember what it was until the screen came out of a blackout.
"Fuck...Harry! Keep going baby!" The surround sound speakers rung through the room of your moans, mixed with Harry's, and displayed on the wall was a video of you laying on your back with your legs around Harry's waist as he ploughed into you, full body on show.
"Fuck!" Harry mutters and quickly exits the screen. Louis, Liam and Niall's eyes widened. "Don't be shy Harry. Play it again" Louis smirks and teases, the boy s unable to contain their laughter as Harry keeps his eyes firmly away from theirs. Sheer embarrassment flooding his face.
"We all have them mate..." Niall chuckles and shakes his head. "But maybe keep them in a separate folder next time"
"Do not tell y/n about this! She'll kill me if she knew you guys had seen it!" Harry groans and sighs.
"I mean...fair play to you though mate. That video clip really brought out her...eyes" Liam chuckles, as they boys laugh along. Harry shooting them a death glare and his hand whacking the back of Liam's head. "You ever mention this to y/n I swear to god I-"
"Ever mention what to y/n?" You ask, suddenly standing in the doorway.
Their eyes widen and their heads snap round. "Baby...Hi! You're home early?" Harry chuckles nervously.
"Yeah...H what's going on?" You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. "Nothing...why would you think anything was going on?" He mumbles.
"Because I just heard you. Boys...what's going on?" You ask sternly. Giving them the motherly death stare.
"Nothing you need to know just yet. Birthday surprise..." Niall chuckles and leads you out the room.
"Niall!" Harry groans. "It's a surprise!"
"Relax, she still doesn't know what it is!" He laughs.
"Well it's either that or she finds out we've just seen their sex tape" Louis smirks and laughs quietly. Not realising you were still in earshot.
"You what?!" Your voice shrieks as your eyes snap to Harry who looks to you with guilt embedded in his face.
"Baby I..." He frowns and rushes over to you.
"Leave me alone" You mutter and storm upstairs.
A short while later, there was a soft knock at your door. "Baby, it's me. Can I come in please?" He pleads.
You sigh "Fine" You mumble quietly, you were curled up in the duvet in your bedroom watching Netflix.
"Baby I'm so sorry...I didn't mean it to happen and I forgot it was there...we were just looking through stuff..." He perches himself beside you and gently wipes your cheek.
"I'm so embarrassed Harry..." You whine softly. "They're never going to let me live that down" You sigh and look away.
"No darling, they will. They promised me they wont tease you about it. They'll only tease me...when you're not in the room" He offers you a small smile.
"That was private Harry..." You frown
"I know darling...I'm sorry. I'll make sure all our sex tapes are in a separate folder that needs a password, so we don't accidentally watch them" He presses a kiss to your forehead gently.
"Deal. Don't let it happen again" You nod, smiling softly against his lips.
Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @beachwood-cafe - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet
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Concept: You’re guilty after starting an argument, but food fixes everything.
Pairing: Harry x Female Y/N
Warnings: Swearing, mild angst, most likely some typos
I think this is cute... I hope you do too. 🙂
I brought food.
You are sitting in the Mcdonald’s drive through. You and Harry had fought... and it was your fault. Truth is, you had a really shitty day at work. You couldn’t exactly put your finger in what was so shitty about it. It was just one of those days. Everything was wrong. And you were frustrated, and you took it out on Harry. You didn’t mean to. It just... happened.
It started with you coming home, mumbling swear words under your breath, and slamming the door shut unnecessarily hard. All he did was ask you what was wrong. Usually you vented to him about any and everything that’s been bothering you for a good hour. Today you really just didn’t feel like talking.
It came out harsher than you intended. You felt guilty but the mixture of your frustration, and your pride made it impossible to care.
He went quiet and looked at you with a blank, almost confused expression before speaking again.
“Well something has to be wrong. You’re obviously angry about something.”
His tone was calm, patient, almost cautious, afraid you’d snap any minute.
“Harry, I said it’s nothing.”
You had said it just as harshly as before.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay.” And walked away.
With a sigh, you headed, to you and Harry’s shared bedroom to find some close to change into for the evening. You opened the drawers and looked for one of Harry’s old shirts that you like to wear, and a pair of your shorts. While you were changing, you looked to the corner of the room and see the basket full of you and Harry’s dirty clothes. Harry didn’t do the laundry. For some reason this just set you off, and that’s how the argument started.
You immediately stomped out of your bedroom, screaming your boyfriends name.
“Why are the dirty clothes still in there!?”
Harry already sounded exasperated, already knowing that you were going to start something.
“You didn’t do the laundry, Harry! I need clean fucking clothes!”
Then Harry got irritated.
“Then do the laundry, Y/N. You have plenty of time it’s only 3:17”
He looked at his watch mid sentence to give you the time.
“Harry I’m tired. I don’t feel like doing that. I was just at work for 8 hours, you could have at least cleaned the clothes.” You all but yelled that time.
“Y/N I had shit to do today too. There aren’t even that many clothes in the basket, you can’t find something else to wear tomorrow?”
He really wasn’t understanding why you were making such a big deal out of this. You really didn’t either but you were already on a roll.
“Jesus, Harry! You’re so fucking lazy! Why do you expect me to do everything around here?”
That’s when he yelled.
“I’m not a fucking mind reader. If you wanted me to do the damn laundry you should have said something. It’s not my fault I didn’t expect you to come home in such a fucking mood.”
At that point you were so done with everything. Maybe you just needed to get out of the house for a little.
You turned away from the island in the kitchen where Harry was leaning, and put your shoes on, heading towards the front door, where this whole thing started.
“Where are you going?”
He questioned, frustration still very evident in his voice, but his volume much lower.
You quickly slammed the door, wasting no time getting in the car, and pulling off. You had no idea where you were going, or if you were going anywhere at all. You were just... driving.
You let your mind wander, while you mindlessly turned corners. It dawned on you that you had just started a fight with Harry for no reason at all. Your anger was soon replaced with guilt. You hadn’t even meant to lash out. You were just mad. At nothing in particular. Nothing was going your way. It had nothing to do with Harry but you took it out on him, and yelled at him over something as stupid as laundry. Now he’s probably mad at you. How are you even going to go home? There’s no way you can face him after all that.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you realized you were right next to a mcdonald’s, which caused you to realize you were absolutely starving. You didn’t hesitate to turn into the drive through line.
So now you’re here. Waiting in a Mcdonald’s drive through. When you finally got up to the speaker, you just ordered the same thing you always got here. You figured Harry was probably hungry too, so you got his usual order too. Maybe this would help make up for being an annoying brat.
Once the give you your food, you offer a polite, “thank you”, and drive off, heading back home. Hopefully you didn’t ruin his mood too, too much.
The drive home was short. You pulled into the driveway after about 15 minutes. You didn’t want to sit in the car and overthink how you were going to approach him. You were just going to do it. What’s the worst that could happen?
You grab your bags and hop out of the car, slamming the car door once you’re out. You walk up to the front door, getting a queasy feeling in your stomach. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you and Harry haven’t had arguments much worse than this one.
You open the front door, and head straight to the kitchen. You place the bag in the island, not failing to notice that Harry isn’t there anymore. You turn around, facing the living room to see him sitting in the couch, scrolling through is phone, ignoring your presents. You can’t tell if he doing it in purpose or if he’s just waiting for you to say something first.
You decide to say something. “Harry?” You say quietly, hoping he heard you.
You were thankful when he looks up at you, still not saying anything but acknowledging you. His expression is impossible to read. You can’t tell if it’s angry, or just blank. But you try not to think about it.
“I-I brought food.”
He just looks back down at his phone like you didn’t say anything. That kinda hurt your feelings. You just turn around and start getting your food out of the bag, leaving Harry’s there for whenever he wants it. You soon after hear him getting up from the couch and coming over near where you were. Maybe he wasn’t ignoring you.
You put your food on the kitchen table, not sitting down, but resting your knee on the chair, watching Harry in silence, thinking about how you’re going to apologize to him. You don’t know what to say to you walk up to him and throw your arms around his torso.
He tenses up for a second, but relaxes when he realizes that you were only hugging him, hugging you back. He knows you. He knows you were feeling guilty. He knows your anger wasn’t exactly towards him.
“I’m sorry for being mean to you.” You almost mumble into his chest. He responds by lowering his head, planting a quick kiss to the top of your head. After standing silently in each other’s arms, he breaks the silence. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” He admits.
You don’t feel like he has a reason to a apologize, though. “I shouldn’t have made you yell.” You pout. Harry chuckles at that. “I forgive you, darling. I’m not mad at you.” He breaks the hug so that he can look you straight in the eyes. “What’s the matter, though? What got you so worked up?”
You look at the floor sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. He uses his forefinger to raise your chin, bringing your eyes back to his. “Hey, it’s okay. Talk to me, angel.” He reassures you. You take a deep breath before going into your rant.
“I honestly don’t even know. Today just wasn’t a good day. I don’t know what was bad about it, there was just nothing good about it. Lately, I’ve been feeling like the universe is against me. I don’t know how to explain it... I just feel like I’m on the edge all the time. There’s a lot going on. My boss is loading a bunch of shit on me. My coworker are always giving me a hard time, I have to balance that with my at home life... it had nothing to do with you and i shouldn’t ha-“ You were cut off by Harry hooking his lips with yours, giving you a soft, passionate kiss.
“I understand, love. You need to eat.” He says with a caring tone. You nod, knowing he’s right. You sit down, as he sits across from you, wasting no time digging into his fries, eating about 4 at a time. He’s such a fast, yet graceful eater.
You copy his actions though, practically devouring your nuggets. You were so glad he wasn’t mad at you, and that you could just move on from this.
There’s nothing food can’t fix.
Masterlist ❣︎ Requests
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Kiwi- The Post Pandemic Rewrite
Chapter 2 - I’m Having your Baby
December 21st 2019
Poppy was late again. 3 days late. Or maybe it was 4. She couldn’t quite remember, but she knew that she was late.
She also knew that she was stressed with Christmas coming up, and that when she got stressed, her periods tended to stay away for a while, plus her OB had told her that she probably wasn’t ovulating properly yet after stopping the contraceptive needle a few months ago. So she wasn’t getting her hopes up. Nonetheless, when she was out getting herself and Harry a coffee, she ducked into the pharmacy nearby and bought a few home pregnancy tests, just to be sure. She was in no rush to take them though and if she was honest, she didn’t really have a spare second to think about it once she got home. Between making sure Oli got his lunch and preparing things for his 2nd birthday party which they were crazy enough to be having just three days before Christmas, there was just too much going on. Oh and did she mention that her and Harry were hosting christmas lunch this year for his family AND hers???
The pregnancy test didn’t cross her mind again until she was giving Oli his bath that night, and Oli picked up his doll that they kept as a bath toy.
“Bubba,” he said, dunking its head in the water, “Wash hair, bubba”
Poppy couldn’t help but giggle, “You’re gonna be a great big brother buddy.”
She was glad that he was too young to really understand what that meant. If he was any older she’d be getting a thousand questions about a baby she doesn’t even know that she has yet. Just a few weeks ago when she was late, the test came back negative and she was almost positive that this one would too.
“Pop, I’m going to pick up your family from the airport now,” Harry called from downstairs. “Need anything while I’m out?”
“No, we’re all good H, good luck!” Poppy called back. “Love you!”
“Love you too!” he said and she heard the door shut behind him.
“Alright Ol, let’s hop out now, get you dressed,
“Love you, Mum.” He smiled up at her as she helped him to stand up and wrapped his tiny toddler towel around him. Her heart melted and she placed a gentle kiss on his head. “I love you too Oli.”
She helped him get dressed into his pyjamas, encouraged him to use the toilet (he wasn’t quite ready to be out of nappies yet, but he was getting close) and brushed his hair so that he was all ready for bed. They’d only returned from a quick stint in LA for Harry’s Forum Show yesterday and Oli was still jet-lagged, which made getting him to bed much easier than usual.
“Right...” Poppy said to Oli once he was all tucked up in bed “Have you got Itchy?”He nodded holding on tightly to his toy. “And Pippy?” she asked and he pulled his dummy out of his mouth, showed it to her and put it back. “And a big kiss from Mummy!” She kissed his forehead and pulled the side of the cot up so that he couldn’t perform some kind of gymnastics and escape from his bed in the middle of the night. “Sleep tight my big boy.” “Night, night, Mum” he said as Poppy closed the door to his bedroom.
She went straight to the bathroom and pulled out the pregnancy test, feeling more broody than ever, knowing that her first baby turned two tomorrow. She remembered what it had been like taking the test when she thought she was having Oli. She was scared because she wasn’t sure that she was ready to be a mum and now she was scared because she wasn’t sure she could face not becoming a mum again. Her heart pounded as she waited for the results to show. Three minutes had never felt so long.
“Poppy, dear, we’re here!.” She heard the sound of her mother’s voice walking in the front door.
“Shit!” she whispered to herself as she left the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind her. She made a mental note to come back to it as soon as she could but she couldn’t leave her family waiting, not after they’d been on a twenty four hour flight. “Hi Mum! Hi Dad!” she said, half running down the stairs to give them a hug. “Good flight?”
“Bloody awful”, her dad, John shook his head with a wry smile. “Can’t smoke on planes these days, did you know that?” He began pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. “Can’t smoke in my house either Dad,” Poppy said sternly. “Follow the stairs all the way up and you’ll find a garden but be quiet, Oli’s just gone to bed.”
“It’s freezing out there Pop,” he huffed but started climbing the stairs anyway.
Don’t I get a hello?” Her sister Addison said from next to Harry.
“Of course you do,” Poppy side stepped her mum and wrapped her sister in the biggest hug of them all, “God you’re getting so adult, can you stop please?”
“I’m as old as you were when you moved here” Addie laughed “And I still live with Mum & Dad!
“It’s much cheaper that way...” Poppy smiled
“Yeah, because you spent so much money in that first year didn’t you love?” Harry said sarcastically .
“That’s enough outta you.” Poppy squeezed his cheek making him giggle.
“Can I get anyone tea or coffee or anything?” Harry asked suddenly, trying to get them all out of the entryway.
“I’d love to see my grandson,” Linda said, turning towards the stairs
“I’ve just put him to bed Mum. You’ll see him in the morning, he’ll be up bright and early!”
“Right, well in that case, I’d love a glass of wine”, she smiled at Harry.
“Of course,” Harry nodded tentatively, not entirely sure he had any wine to give her. “Addie, wine? Tea?”
Addie shook her head “No thanks Harry.”
“Vodka?” he asked, grinning at her knowingly. Harry hadn’t spent a lot of time with Poppy’s family over the years, but he knew that her mother could either be the nicest person on the planet, or the snarkiest, all in 5 minutes. You could get whiplash just being in the room with her. That’s why poppy had moved to London when she was so young.
“I’m fine,” she giggled, although a shot or two of vodka was temping after being on a plane with her parents for 24 hours.
“I’ll show you both around then while Harry does that,” Poppy added and started going upstairs. Linda and Addie followed, with their bags still in their hands.
“Leave those,” Poppy said “Your rooms are downstairs anyway,
They dropped the bags and followed Poppy, a grimace already evident on Linda’s face.
“So this is mine and Harry’s room” she said when they got upstairs pointing to their bedroom door “It’s a mess so we won’t go in there”
“Never have been able to keep your room clean have you Poppy” Linda added, peering in anyway
“It’s so nice to have you here Mum” Poppy said, unable to hold her tongue. “And that room there is Oli’s so let’s be a little quiet”
“Is he a good sleeper” Addie asked. She knew a lot about babies, she worked in a nursery back home, very similar to the one Oli goes to.
“He’s been much better since we stopped the day sleep”
“His teachers must hate that” she laughed
“They don’t seem to mind” Poppy shrugged and continued the tour down the hallway towards the next staircase
“This is where Harry’s mum sleeps when she stays, so we’re keeping that for her and you guys will all be downstairs
“How many bedrooms is this place?” Linda asked, looking up the staircase
“6 or 7” Poppy said “That’s Harry’s office up there and there’s a studio downstairs, but he never uses it”
“I accidentally told him I loved the album like 6 times on the way here” Addie giggled “he probably thinks I’m weirdly into him”
“He wouldn’t think that much of it, Addie” Poppy smiled “Shall we go downstairs?”
“Shouldn’t we go up?” Linda asked
“We can” Poppy nodded “There’s not much to see up there though, it’s just a desk and the garden which I’ll show you in the morning”
“Oh alright” Linda sighed and turned around on her heel with a huff in her breath.
Poppy was starting to remember exactly why she’s decided to move to the other side of the world at just 18. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her mother, she just found her selfishness intolerable.
“Not giving a tour without me are you Pop?” John bellowed as he walked down the stairs, lips blue from the cold.
“There’s not much to see dear, just a few oversized bedrooms” Linda drew her lips into a sharp line “That haven’t been cleaned. You know with Harry’s salary you could afford a cleaner”
Poppy and Addie shared a knowing look and Addie turned away from her parents and walked down the hallway towards the stairs.
“I’m going to find that vodka Harry mentioned” she called, waving her hand for them to follow. And they did, without saying a word. Poppy had always admired how easily Addie could read people and turn a situation around in seconds without offending anyone and she smiled to herself because that hadn’t changed.
In the Kitchen, Harry had two glasses of red wine sitting on the bench waiting for them and he had his head stuck in the fridge searching for something that seemed to be buried in the depths.
“What are you looking for H?” Poppy said as she made herself comfortable on one of the bar stools.
“All that cheese we bought the other day,” he said, head still in the fridge “and the dip”
“That’s in the butler’s fridge” she said quietly, suddenly realising that somehow she was living a life very different from the she left behind.
“You have a butler?” Addie said, shocked “and he has his own fridge?”
“No” Poppy laughed “there’s a mini kitchen in that little room over there” she pointed to the door that harry was opening “they call it a butler’s pantry, so we call the fridge the butlers fridge”
“Oh Harry you’ll have to get me something else, I don’t drink red wine” Linda said before Addie had the chance to respond to Poppy.
Harry, who was safley hidden away in the butlers pantry rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. If this was how he felt after an hour with Poppy’s family, how was he going to spend a whole two weeks with them. He did, however, take comfort in knowing that Poppy was feeling the same way.
“I want to tip the wine over her head” Poppy whispered, walking into the pantry with the glass in her hand. Harry took the glass, put it on the bench next to him and wrapped his arms around Poppy.
“We could probably survive off the food in here for the next two weeks if you want to lock the door?” he whispered back
“Believe me, if I could I would” Poppy said with her head still pressed against his chest. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and pulled away from the hug.
“Guess I’ll go pull some white wine out of my ass then” he said, only half joking.
“There’s some in the bar fridge in your man cave, I think sarah left it here” she called after him as he walked out again.
The rest of the evening passed by slowly, Addie, John and Linda filled Poppy and Harry in on what was going on back in Australia, it was nothing to really write home about, just the usual kinds of things that happen in a tiny coastal town, known for being home to quite a few Great White Sharks, that somehow never made an appearance on the beaches. Poppy was not at all surprised by her Mother’s lack of interest in anything about her life in London, if it wasn’t for Addie, all they would have talked about would be when Poppy was going to move back home again. She always thought that would happen when she had children, she wanted them to have the childhood that she did, but now that she’s here in London with Oli she couldn’t imagine anything else for him, because their life was here, with Harry and it was so much better than she’d ever imagined. Linda thought that was ludicrous though and with every opportunity, she found a reason to tell Poppy that a child shouldn’t grow up in a city, especially a city without a beach. But, just like she had upstairs, Addie managed to turn the conversation around every time without offending anyone, until she mentioned the possibility of moving to London too.
“There’s plenty of spare rooms here Addie” Harry said to her before Linda could shut her down “We’d love to have you”
“I might just not leave” she laughed and stood up from the table “I am going to go to bed though”
“I’ll show you to your room” Poppy stood up too and chauffeured her out of the room towards the living room, which lead onto the bedrooms.
“You’re in this one Addie, and Mum and Dad are next door”
“Thanks Pop” she smiled “I’m not joking about moving to London, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now”
Poppy hugged her “Like Harry said, you’re always welcome here, this room can be all yours”
“Was this your room when you first arrived?”
Poppy shook her head “No I was always upstairs, in Oli’s room”
“Right next door to Harry” Addie giggled “makes sense”
“Good night Addie” Poppy said, putting an end to that conversation before it even started.
Poppy didn’t go back into the kitchen, she slipped straight into her bedroom and into bed. Who knew working full time and being a mother would be so exhausting. Her heavy eyes fell closed and she only stirred when Harry came into the room an hour later and wrapped his arms around her.
December 22nd 2019
Poppy rolled over in her bed, exposing her upper arm to the cold morning air and saw that Harry was still fast asleep next to her. She reached for her phone to check the time, wondering why she’d not yet been woken by Oli’s cries to be taken out of the crib.
7:03. He was usually awake by now, but she shrugged it off, because he did go to sleep late last night and rolled back over to face Harry, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose to wake him. He blinked a few times and scrunched up his face as she giggled
“Morning love” he smiled, finally opening his eyes and wrapping his arms around her “Oli not up yet?”
“Nope” she emphasized the end of the word, burying her head in his chest “either that or my mother got up to him”
Harry scoffed “Seems unlikely, your sister, maybe”
“That sounds more possible”
He let a content sigh “This time two years ago, we were sitting in that hospital room, waiting for him to arrive”
Poppy sat up “Harry, today’s his second birthday”
He furrowed his brow at her “Yeah” he said, sounding confused. “I was just sayin’ that”
“And we haven’t heard a thing from Danny”
The realisation dawned on him and a huge smile spread across his face, “We haven’t heard anything from Danny- shit Pop I can adopt him”
“You can adopt him H” she smiled kissing his puffy morning lips “You’ll have to give the lawyers a call tomorrow, but it should be a pretty simple process, they should still have all the paperwork we filled out before the hearing, we’ll just have to sign it”
“Easy” he kissed her again “He could be mine by Christmas”
“I doubt it, red tape takes time and there’s only three days to go” she heard the faint sounds of Oli stirring next door “I’ll go” she smiled, throwing the blankets off and shivering at the cold December air. She wrapped her big fluffy dressing gown around her and walked out of the room to go and get Oli out of bed, leaving Harry there, smile spread across his face.
“Happy Birthday big boy” she said walking into his room
“Mumma” he smiled at her throwing his dummy out of the cot “Pippy” he tried to reach for the dummy that was now on the floor.
“Pippy’s on the ground bub” she leaned down and picked it up “mummy get it for you”
“Ta” he took it from her and stuck it back in his mouth.
Poppy reached into the cot and unzipped his sleeping bag as she picked him up “Where’s itchy?” she said. Oli had become quite attached to it when they took him on tour with Harry last year and after seeing Mitch playing the guitar at one of the shows he’d started calling it ‘itchy’ unable to say the ‘m’ sound in his name, and he couldn’t go anywhere without it.
“Itchy’s gone mum” he frowned shrugging his shoulders and looked around the room.
“He can’t be gone bub” Poppy giggled searching behind the cot and spotted him on the floor behind it “there he is! He’s hiding from you Oli” she put him down and moved the cot out from the wall, so she could lean down and pick the toy up. “Silly itchy” she said handing it to him.
“itchy silly mummy” he giggled giving the toy a big cuddle
“Shall we go see Daddy?” she ruffled his hair
“Yeah” he said, nodding his head
“Come on then” she walked out of the room and he followed her.
“DADDY!” he burst into their bedroom and climbed into the bed next to harry.
“There’s my big two-year-old!” Harry said, and Oli snuggled into his side “Happy birthday little man” he kissed the top of his head. Poppy stood in the doorway watching their interaction, heart filled with more love than she’d ever thought possible.
Oli handed Harry itchy “Daddy, itchy hiding”
Harry furrowed his brow “Was itchy hiding from you bub?” he chuckled, turning to look at Poppy “what’s mummy doing all the way over there?” he asked, “There’s room for one more in here”
“Why don’t we all go downstairs for some breakfast, Mummy’s hungry”
“Breakfast!” Oli nodded and jumped down from the bed, toddling out of the room and downstairs. She followed him closely behind, making sure he didn’t slip and helped him into his high chair.
“What would you like today birthday boy?”
“Toast” he said enthusiastically, which made Poppy and Harry both giggle
“Daddy can make you pancakes if you want little man?” Harry offered, searching the pantry for all the ingredients
“No, toast” he nodded
“Fine” Harry huffed pulling the jar of strawberry jam from the shelf in front of him “Jam toast it is”
“No Daddy, Mite toast”
Poppy giggled to herself, handing Harry the Jar of vegemite “the kid knows what he wants”
“You’re a bad influence on him,” he said, putting a piece of bread in the toaster, shaking his head at her
“I’ll do this” Poppy said, taking the butter knife off him “you go get the presents”
He placed a kiss on her cheek and walked off, upstairs to get Oli’s birthday presents. Once the toast was ready she spread the vegemite lightly across its surface and cut it into four triangles, placing it onto a Winnie the Pooh plate that Grimmers had given them when he first started eating solids.
“Vegemite toast for the Birthday boy” Poppy smiled, pinching his cheeks as she laid the plate in front of him.
“Thanks Mumma” he smiled.
“Good Morning” Linda yawned, walking into the kitchen in a very light cotton dressing gown “It’s freezing here”
“It’s London” Poppy admitted “I’ve turned the heating on”
“Good” Linda smiled “Now where’s my grandson”
“He’s eating his birthday breakfast” Poppy said excitedly while pointing to the high chair “Oli, say hi to nanna”
She wasn’t quite sure how he would react to Linda, he’d really only met her through facetime and part of her was convinced that he thought she was just the lady that existed in the phone. He turned in his high chair and looked at Linda. He was puzzled at first but his expression soon changed and a big toothy smile grew on his face.
“Nanna” he said, taking a bite of his toast.
“Hi Big Boy” Linda smiled back, placing a big sloppy kiss on his cheek “Happy Birthday”
“Do you want anything Mum? Tea, Coffee, Breakfast?”
“I wouldn’t mind a tea and some eggs” she said and sat down next to Oli. “Is that vegemite you’ve got there?” she said to him
“Mite” he smiled and held the toast up to her
“You’re a real little Aussie then, just have to get your mum to bring you home”
Poppy filled a pot with water and put it on the stove so that she could poach some eggs for everyone when they eventually woke up and she heard her phone ringing on the bench behind her. Seeing Harry’s name on the screen, she answered it, confused.
“Did you forget where we hid the presents?” she giggled into the phone as Oli sat in his high chair giggling away at Linda as she pulled faces at him.
“No” he said flatly “Can you come here for a sec, need your help with the big one”
“I think it’s time you started those personal training sessions again then Styles” Poppy said standing up from her chair “I’ll be right up” she hung up the phone and turned to Linda and Oli
“Oli, Mummy’s just going to help Daddy for a few minutes, I’ll be right back” she kissed his head and walked upstairs into her bedroom where she found Harry standing in the bathroom doorway holding what looked like a pregnancy test.
“What’s this love?” he asked, handing it to her
“Shit” she said, not looking at it “I took this last night and left it to do it’s thing when you got home from the airport and I kinda forgot about it with all the chaos”
“It’s positive love”
Poppy turned it over in her hand and saw the same two blue lines that she’d seen almost three years ago when she found out she was having Oli, and a few tears formed in her eyes as she looked up at Harry “It’s positive H”
He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in close to his chest, “We’re having a baby Poppy.”
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Hi there! I am reuploading this fic and this time I want to actually try because tbh I didn’t give af about pacing, editing, etc. as harrymoncheri
I’ve decided to scrap the original plot and make this a prompt-based project!
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy part 1 (the intro) of personal trainer!harry
Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!
Warnings: This story will contain mature themes.
The parking lot itself was intimidating. Eden’s eyes remained wide in wonder as she took in the cars that couldn’t have been less than a couple hundred thousand dollars. When she won the year-long membership for a five-star gym through a raffle at her uni, she hadn’t thought about what to expect. From the outside, the gym looked quite small but as she walked in, the first thing that welcomed her was a set of gleaming black stairs leading to an underground facility.
Her shoes squeaked on each step down. She kept her gaze low to avoid tripping and embarrassing herself in front of the tycoons in gym gear and teenagers working out in custom name brand sneakers.
The receptionist smiled upon seeing her, his veneers a stark contrast against his brown skin. “You’re the one I just spoke with on the phone, right? Eden?”
She smiled and shook his hand. “That’s me.”
After having her sign a few papers, he led her to an office–a small room surrounded by glass walls with a view of the elevators. She soon learned that they led to lower levels housing the spa, pool and basketball courts.
While waiting for the manager to start the consultation, they sat and talked for a few minutes. Eden learned a lot about the receptionist. His name was Luca and his father owned the gym. He was a couple years older than her and studied at the same university. She was positive she’d never seen him; she would have remembered a man as beautiful as him.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Luca said while checking the minimalist clock hung on the only wall not made of glass. “I don’t know what’s taking him so long.”
She waved a hand as if brushing him off. “Don’t apologize. I’m sure he’s somewhere around here doing what managers do best.”
“My manager isn’t in, actually. You’ll be speaking to one of our personal trainers today.”
She furrowed her eyebrows but nodded all the same. “Oh, okay.”
Luca’s face brightened as something caught his eye over Eden’s shoulder and he stood up. “Speak of the devil.”
Eden turned in her seat and her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a man whose looks, she imagined, would take over her dreams at night from that day forward. He was dangerously handsome in the simplest clothing– grey cotton joggers and a black t-shirt she noticed every personal trainer was wearing.
Her gaze trailed to his strong jaw, then up to where his chestnut hair curled around his ears in the most endearing way. When her eyes met his striking green ones, she felt heat creep up her neck at being caught blatantly ogling him.
“Eden? Did you hear what I said?”
She didn’t miss the smirk on the personal trainer’s lips as her head whipped towards Luca. “Sorry, what did you say?”
He gave her a knowing look. “I said I’m going to go back to the front. Did you need anything else?”
“Oh, um, no. Thank you for everything,” she bit her lip, fully aware of the trainer’s heavy gaze on her. It was hard concentrating on watching Luca exit the office only to pretend like the suffocating presence of the walking wet dream was fictitious.
The door closed on its own with a click that echoed in Eden’s head. The realization that she was in a closed room with the attractive man dawned on her.
“Nice to meet you, Eden. I’m Harry.” His voice was raspy and deep, the cells of her body vibrating to each syllable he uttered.
“Nice– “she cleared her throat as the word caught in her mouth. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Eden sat in front of the desk. The sky-blue cushion on the seat at first glance appeared uncomfortable, but as soon as her bum touched the fabric, she decided it was the most comfortable chair she’d ever had the pleasure of sitting on.
She started to get nervous when Harry did not say anything, only studied her face for a moment, before nodding to himself and opening one of the desk drawers to pull out a notepad and a Montblanc pen.
“First thing I’m going to ask you is: What are your fitness goals?”
Eden opened her mouth then closed it. “Umm. I guess to just get fit,” she said stupidly.
But he only nodded in encouragement. “Can you think of anything specific?”
“Build strength,” she leaned forward. “Endurance.”
He smiled, and she wanted to swoon at the dimple that appeared on his cheek. “Do you have a history with sports or fitness?”
“I used to dance,” she perked up. “Ballet.”
His face gave away that he was impressed, and she wanted to pat herself on the back. “You must be really flexible.”
She flushed. “Well, it’s been a while. I doubt it.”
“I guess we’ll have to work on your flexibility too, then.”
Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his. It was a fairly innocent statement and within context. But it was the tone he used. Subtle, but she didn’t miss it nor the mischievous glint in his eye. She gulped soundlessly and looked down at her leggings, pretending to pick at a loose thread.
He broke the silence. “Before I ask any more questions, are you okay with me training you? Or would you prefer a female?”
Eden’s lips rolled inward as she pondered his question. A part of her was dumbfounded at the fact that she even had to think about it. Of course she wanted to choose him. However, she promised herself no more distractions. She was there to get fit and take advantage of this free opportunity, not put herself out there for the second time only for it to crash and burn again.
“Female,” she said.
If she wasn’t watching him carefully, she would have missed the hint of disappointment on his face before it disappeared and was replaced by a look of understanding.
The rest of the consultation went by with Harry asking her a few more questions. She was getting much more comfortable and they both seemed to relax into conversation the more time went by. Harry finished off the meeting by taking her body measurements, BMI and fat percentage.
Eden later met Yaz, her personal trainer. She was a kind woman with long black hair just like hers, but it was straightened to perfection and didn’t seem to have a single split end. Harry had given his fellow trainer all the information he’d collected from Eden, and she did not waste time.
Eden was guided to an artificial turf where horizontal bars hung over their heads with different TRX ropes suspended from them. Yaz had her do basic exercises to assess what they needed to work on, but Eden could barely focus. While Yaz kept her eyes on Eden’s movements, Eden kept hers on the mirror reflection of the man who was walking around the weight area, greeting everyone. He seemed well-loved in this facility. The men greeted him like he was a future business partner, and the women tried maintaining his attention with flirty smiles.
Yet, his attention was elsewhere. All he could think about was Eden’s thick waves and big brown eyes that gave away everything she was feeling. He wasn’t sure if she was aware of how easy it was to read her. The minute he walked into that office and laid eyes on her, he knew he was done for. Her red leggings and black sports bra left little to the imagination and he wasn’t complaining. He wanted to touch her, just to know what striking gold felt like.
Now, stopping in his tracks to watch her speak to Yaz, he caught her eye through the mirror and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. His grin only widened when she offered a shy smile back before giving Yaz her full attention, cheeks blooming red.
He knew then that he was fucked.
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Harry fucking y/n in his office, please 🙏🏻
Clear my schedule
Warnings: 18+, smut, degrading, unprotected sex (i have no excuse for this one eek, goes without saying that's a big nono) CEO!Harry, mean dom!Harry, kinky af basically
Word count: 2.3K
Every time you swore you wouldn’t let it happen again, but somehow you always ended up on top of your boss’ desk. Or under it. On this particular day, he’d cleared his desk in one swift swipe of his forearm sending all the papers flying, to make extra room so that he could push you face down across it pinning you to the flat surface with one hand while he bunched up your skirt with the other.
“Why do you even bother with lingerie if there’s barely anything to cover this weepy cunt?” he mumbled, more to himself as he fumbled with his belt and zipper and you braced yourself for dear life.
Against your better judgement, you found yourself mumbling in a low voice, but clearly loud enough for him to hear you “Why do you bother asking me to bring in paperwork if you’re just gonna toss it-”
He pulled on your hair harshly, making you yelp and effectively shutting you up “What’s that, pet? Got something to say? What’d I tell you? Don’t wanna hear anything out of that pretty mouth except for yes, sir; please and thank you, sir. Understood?”
He yanked on your hair for emphasis and all you could do was gulp “Yes, sir”
“Thought you knew better by now, Y/N. Guess I’m gonna have to make sure you’ve learned your lesson for good this time around, hm? Let’s practice, shall we?” He pulled on your flimsy g-string hooking his thumb under it and dragging it to the side easily and placed his rock-hard tip at your entrance “Ready for me, pet?”
“Yes” you whined, out of breath already in anticipation. You’d been sneaking around like this for quite a while, now. Every time it was somehow even better than the last. And that’s what kept you coming back for more each time. He was degrading you, using you, and he made no secret of that, and you absolutely loved playing his whore. How could you not? When he was living up to his reputation and then some.
You barely even finished replying before his palm landed on your ass cheek harshly “Yes, what?” he shouted. You thanked your lucky stars that your boss was not only your boss, but the CEO of the company, his office at the very top of the building and large enough not to have to worry about anyone eavesdropping. Well, maybe except for his secretary but you doubted it’d come as a surprise to her, she probably knew way more than she cared for.
“Yes, sir” you were quick to correct yourself, cursing under your breath for having been so thoughtless. It wasn’t that you were afraid of him, you felt safe with him always. You had your safe word and you’d discussed your boundaries thoroughly when you first hooked up after you’d been drooling after him for what had felt like ages. If anything, you were worried he’d tire of you and discard you for a newer fucktoy. ‘Cause that was what you were to him, and you were fine with it. You had to be, Harry Styles didn’t do “relationships”, least of all with someone like you, just a measly assistant that you had no clue why he’d ever even given the time of day to, much less taken an interest in.
“That’s more like it” he grunted as he pushed into you without preamble, and you were so wet that he’d slid right in easily “Fuck, such a good little slut for me, aren’t you Y/N? You’re not all that good, though, since you can’t fucking remember the simplest rules, so I think going over them just isn’t gonna do it. Think I’ll have to punish you”
“Please” you mewled and he chuckled as he thrusted even deeper into you
“Oh, now you’ve suddenly remembered them all, huh? No, you’re not getting away with it that easily, pet. Gonna fuck some sense into you” he grabbed ahold of your bunched up skirt with his free hand for leverage and began pounding into you mercilessly and you felt your hipbones hit the hard wood repeatedly, surely they would bruise, but you couldn’t care less, not when he was hitting your sweetspot just right “Already clenching around me, Y/N? Are you that needy for my cock? Been strutting around all day in this miniskirt just asking for it. How wet did you get just thinking about me fucking you when you dressed in the morning? Did you touch yourself?” he gritted between his teeth as he delivered blow after blow
“Such a filthy little whore” he chuckled. “Aren’t you, pet? And so eager to please me” he slapped your ass, harder this time, making you jump at the impact and he grabbed from under your left thigh, propping your knee over the edge of the desk gaining him deeper access and you moaned harder than you ever had “And these knee-high boots, with those impossible fucking heels. I should try fucking you with them one day. Would you let me?”
“Fuck! Yes, sir. Please…”
He laughed a humorless laugh. “Of course you would. My good little cockslut” you mewled at his dirty words and were getting closer and closer by the second but right before you could reach your peak, you felt him redouble his efforts only for him to stop abruptly and sink balls-deep into you as he shot ropes after ropes inside of you. You could feel him twitch as he came, and you were right there, if only he’d…
He brought your knee down, placing your high heeled boot back on the floor and pushed your thighs together before squeezing carefully out of you with a gasp as he panted heavily, recovering from his high.
“Don’t you fucking move” he warned, a bit out of breath as he put himself together after he unhooked his finger from your g-string letting it fall back between your ass cheeks. He then carefully pulled you off of the desk, pushing your skirt back down and held your back against his chest, speaking into your ear gravely “You better hold all of that in if you want to come today, pet. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” you shuddered at the loss of contact as he circled the desk and sat back into his chair, crossing his legs leisurely
“Better rearrange those papers while you’re at it. Careful. Better not make any sudden movements” he sounded thoroughly pleased with himself watching you bend awkwardly picking up the documents off the floor, twisting in his chair nonchalantly.
You tried your best to deliver the coffees to your boss’ meeting without making it painstakingly obvious that you were walking awkwardly, taking baby steps so that you wouldn’t have any of his come run down your thighs. It was getting harder and harder by the minute, there was only so much your lousy lingerie could do to act as a barrier, they were already thoroughly drenched, not to mention how on edge you still were and was probably contributing to this whole ordeal between your legs.
You pushed your way in through the conference room door, tray in tow, smiling as innocently as possible to the people that acknowledged your presence, but when your eyes landed on Harry’s you could see the glint of mischief dancing in them. He was thoroughly enjoying this, the smug bastard.
You walked carefully around the table, placing the coffee mugs on their respective saucers in front of each of the people in attendance, leaving Harry for last. You noticed him lean back into his chair as you hovered over him, no doubt ogling your ass and then you almost spilled the coffee in his lap when he suddenly grabbed the elbow of the arm you were holding it with “Y/N, be a doll and run into my office for me, I forgot the graphics on my desk”
You turned to look at him incredulously and he just stared at you with a raised eyebrow, ever the poised, bossy CEO. Could’ve fooled anyone that he really needed those graphics, when you just knew he was doing it to get a kick out of watching you try your best to “run” and get them for him.
“Yes, sir” you made sure to squint your eyes ever so slightly at him as you said so noticing his pupils dilating in response and you made your way out of the conference room as slowly as possible, no doubt earning a raised eyebrow from everyone for not hurrying to comply to your boss’ demand.
When you finally reached his office you furrowed your brows, there were no graphics on his desk and before you could turn around and make your way back, already dreading having to probably walk all the way back to his office again and search for them elsewhere, you heard the door shut and the lock being clicked into place.
“Looking for something, pet?”
You huffed “There are no graphics, are there?” you didn’t even turn to face him
“Hm. Smarter than she looks” he hummed to himself and you gasped indignantly earning a chuckle from him “You definitely are smart, made the right decision just then, hm? Would rather make sure you come than keep your job here, don’t you, pet?” he closed in the space between you, hands in his pockets “But, ah… what a pity. Seems you couldn’t keep your end of the deal” he pouted playfully and you lowered your eyes to where he was staring.
Was that there all along? A milky trail running down the back of your left thigh, painfully obvious to anyone happening to land their eyes there. And you weren’t fooling yourself. All the men in that conference room had probably stared right at it.
“Oh, God” you groaned, covering your face
“Awh. Don’t act all coy now, when we both know what a filthy little thing you really are, Y/N” he tsked you, cornering you back against the edge of the desk “But since you genuinely tried your very best…” he smirked reaching down to catch the droplet with his index finger, surprising you when he then brought it to his own mouth “Gonna keep my end of the bargain. How’s that sound?”
You only managed a half smile before he bent abruptly, grabbing the back of your thighs and placing you on the edge of his desk. He kneeled in front of you, pushing your legs apart and you immediately felt his come dripping freely around the flimsy lingerie you were wearing “What… What about your meeting?”
“Oh, this shouldn’t take long” he smirked at you from under his lashes and you bit your lower lip in anticipation as he once again bunched up your skirt to your navel and hooked his fingers into your panties “These are laughable. Barely did you any favors today, pet. I’ll rid you of them, hm?” he pulled your g-string down your legs and then spread you open using his fingers, admiring his come drip down your core and onto his desk “Did so good for me, Y/N. But I knew you would. Desperate little slut that you are, I knew you’d do your best to keep it inside you. Gonna be so happy you did, just you wait” he bit his lower lip staring at you as if mesmerized, sporting his characteristic scowl and you clenched around nothing just watching him look at you like that.
He swiped his forefinger through your folds, and then carried it to your mouth and you wasted no time sucking on his finger and humming around it “Greedy little thing. But this is my treat” he pulled his finger back, scraping it against the back of your teeth and you watched as he pushed it inside you next, allowing for more of his come to ooze out of you as he did so. You moaned in unison at the sight as he pumped his finger in and out slowly, the sounds your pussy was making absolutely sinful “Fuck me, that’s so hot” he muttered under his breath before dragging his tongue flat up your folds, making you hang your head back as you leaned back on your elbows. He pushed his tongue inside you and hummed lowly, sending vibrations all the way up your spine and down to the tips of your toes, making them curl.
“Taste so fucking good together” he mumbled as he ate you up thoroughly and you moaned and whined, kicking your legs uncontrollably before he pinned them apart, grabbing you from underneath your thighs and delving his face against your pussy like a man starved. It was the first time he was eating you out and you had no idea he enjoyed this so much, you never would’ve guessed someone like him would take such pleasure from pleasuring someone, selflessly. But it wasn’t entirely selfless, he seemed to genuinely enjoy doing it. He curled his middle finger inside of you, stroking your g-spot and latched his lips over your clit, sucking intently and you just couldn’t hold back any longer.
After he milked every single aftershock out of you he stood between your legs, going for his belt and you gasped “But… the meeting?” you felt like you’d already asked him that just previously, but your brain was now mush and you couldn’t be sure
He grabbed his desk phone and dialed his secretary, as he guided himself into you again using his other hand, shushing you just before you heard her answer on the other end “Yeah. Something came up” he winked at you and you would’ve rolled your eyes at that had you not been terrified to spite him yet again “Tell them we’ll have to reschedule. And cancel my next appointment. In fact” he paused, grunting inaudibly at one particularly hard thrust inside of you “Clear my schedule for today”
A/N: i hope y'all can forgive me for this one day 😇
💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌
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harry wanted nothing more than to take his time with y/n and get to know everything about her, in every sense she'd allow
part one (prosecco)
part two (sangiovese)
part three (moscato)
part four (malvasia)
previous part (parellada)
"Are you coming in?"
Harry couldn't help the lazy smile that spread over his lips, dimples denting into his cheeks as they stopped in front of her apartment door. She did her best to unlock the front door though one of her hands was held hostage in both of Harry's. He just couldn't find it in himself to let go even though he knew he was only making it harder on her to concentrate.
"Do y'want me to?" he prodded, a satisfied undercurrent to his words. He liked knowing that she wasn't ready for him to leave yet, just as he wasn't prepared to say goodbye for the night.
"You know I do," she answered shyly, glancing over her shoulder as she pushed open the white lacquered wood, "But only if you want to, too."
She should know by now that wherever she wanted him, he would be there. He only gave her a soft curl of his lips, sacrificing the hold of one of his hands to pat her on the bottom, "Go on, I'll be right behind you."
A familiar smile colored her features, the same giddy one that caused a garden to bloom in his chest since he had started getting closer to her. It was the same smile she looked at him with when he took her out for the first time, the same one she had appeared with when she ran back to give him a hug and thank him for keeping his promise to see her, and the same one that she had given to him every time he'd come to see her since. It made him feel like he put the stars in the sky and dotted craters into the moon; like he was powerful enough to create the universe if she so asked him to.
Harry followed after her like a lost puppy, only having half the mind to close the door behind him and twist the accompanying lock. He was forced to let go of her hand when she reached to take off her shoes, this pair much more comfortable than the usual heels she had worn in the past on dates with him. He made a point to match his boots up beside her's in the cubby by the door, the white leather of his brushing against her own sparkly pair.
He looked out into her living room, the area a disaster of notebook pages and open textbooks. The pages had scribbled notes strung along the lines, highlighted headings at the top that matched the duo of textbooks that laid spread open on the coffee table.
"This what y'were working on before I picked y'up?" Harry smiled, rounding the couch to get a look at the subject she was studying so hard over.
"Yeah," (Y/N) sighed, her voice slumping the same way he could picture her shoulders doing when she caught sight of the homework, "I'm having to do an extra section on that group project now that one of my partners just dropped the course out of nowhere."
"Really?" Harry gaped, whipping his head up to catch her following his path to sit beside him on the couch, "Was it that boy y'were telling me about?"
"Mhm," she hummed, a slight roll to her eyes though Harry could see how tired she was just at the thought of the extra work.
"Are the others helping you at all?"
"No, they said they have too many credits this semester and one of them has to work everyday so she doesn't have time," (Y/N) explained, falling into the cushions beside him. She reached out and began picking up her notes, leafing through them in an effort to put them in order before stuffing them into a folder she had slid under the table.
"Oh love," he cooed, scooting over to wrap her up in his arms, "I can help you, if y'want. 'M not sure I'll be much help with the subject itself, but I can help with the paper and I'll work on anything you're not sure about." Harry was already working around his schedule, trying to find his free moments when he could commit to his promises and help (Y/N) all he could.
A breathy laugh was huffed though (Y/N)'s lips, matching the feather soft smile that traced her lips. "I think I'll be okay, but thank you, H. You're sweet."
"Are y'sure? I know I don't really understand how"—he squinted to read he fine text on the last remaining volume on the table—"romantic literature evolved through the seventeen and eighteen hundreds, but I can try. 'M not gonna lie, I've read quite a few romance novels, so I'll give it m'all."
A louder laugh escaped (Y/N), filtering through the room. The sound brought Harry's dimples to the surface of his cheeks, the muscles surely to ache when he went home.
"I think you might have a different idea than what my professor is looking for, but thank you. Maybe you could read over my sections before I send them to the group? Make sure they sound good and everything?"
Harry happily nodded along to her suggestion. "Anything y'need from me, I'll do it."
The tint of amusement drained from her features, leaving just the soft remnants that curled over her lips and melted her irises. That dreamy look that Harry saw in his daydreams crossed over her eyes. He adored when she looked at him like that, second only to the tender smile she saved only for him.
"You mean that?" she prompted, words feeling like a feather-soft cloud stuffed in a gift box just for him.
"Y'know I do," Harry teased, his tone light as he parroted her earlier words. He leant into her space, nudging his nose against her's in a gentle puppy's kiss with their lashes tangling from the proximity.
He could feel the ghost of her smile against the full of his own lips, savoring the feel of her contentment for a moment before pulling back into his own space. He was greeted with the sight of (Y/N)'s moony eyes, irises liquified and sparkling like pools of starlight. The smile he had felt on her lips dropped in slow increments, gradually leaving her with her mouth in a small gape and her softened features calling for his tender touch. She didn't move from where she had inclined her body towards him, the tick in her neck holding as if moving away from him was the last thing on her mind even in the uncomfortable position. Her eyes scanned over his face, Harry aware of the way her gaze brushed over the planes of his features before cataloging down the curve of his neck and the full of his lips.
"Y'alright, sweetheart?" He breathed a laugh, reaching a hand up to cradle the full of her cheek.
Her expression lagged before something clicked behind her eyes as she dropped back into the moment. She nodded her head in his hold, a jerky motion as opposed to the smooth slowness that had coated her movements before. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking," she explained with a swallow. She stood from where she had settled into the cushions, returning to the full of her height as she reached for her school bag that was now stuffed with her homework. Tossing a look over her shoulder to Harry, she collected the lone textbook from the coffee table, "I'm going to take this to my room—I'll be right back."
With that, she scuttled down the hall, leaving Harry alone in the waning heat they shared on her sofa. Though there was nothing playing on the television in front of him, he looked at the black mirror as his own film started reeling in his head. He couldn't get that look on her face out of his head.
He'd seen the dreamy glow that took her features when he did something particularly sweet for her, the giddy smile on her lips when he agreed to spend more time with her, and the look of her melted irises that made him feel like the only person in the world for her. He'd seen those looks and adored them, treasured them in the back of his mind. He would call upon whenever he missed her or needed something to make the time go by faster, but this look was one he'd only ever seen before once in the dark of his room.
She had given him that searching look—like she was searching for more, for something only Harry could give her and that she was willing to follow him wherever he wanted to take her if it meant she would find it, whatever it was—one of the times they had spent holed up in his room, Harry's hips between her thighs and her head cushioned by his satin cased pillows. They had been kissing as was tradition by now after another date, Harry dutifully abiding by the fine boundaries she had set that first time. His hands stayed over her clothing as he traced her form with the most intimacy being performed by their melding mouths. Even his hips fit between her's were kept still as to not rock anywhere that would make her uncomfortable.
Though, he could only be so good for so long, especially when his instincts were at the helm of his control. Without thinking, he had given a grinding roll of his hips over her center. Her thighs stiffened around him and her hands in his hair tightened to give a sharp tug at his roots. Harry reared back at her reaction, ready to give her a murmured apology, promise that he wasn't going to do it again and give her a second to breathe. When he did that, an I'm sorry poised on his tongue, he had been stopped in his tracks at the look on her face. She gave him that yearning look with her starlight eyes, searching for something she couldn't find. Harry remembers feeling breathless in that moment, like the limited air in his lungs was effectively sucked out when she gave him the privilege of looking over her.
"(Y/N)? Are y'okay?" he remembered cooing to her, his hands that had been stationed on either side of her head fisting at the blanket below her.
The sound of her name had knocked her back into reality, the same way his voice had tonight only minutes ago. She tugged him back to her with the grip on his hair, planting her lips along the cut of his jaw. "I'm okay," she whispered over his skin, the butterfly-soft touch of her lashes skimming over his skin.
"'M sorry," he mumbled to her, "I didn't mean t—"
"Don't be sorry," she had said to him, finally nudging him towards her and matching their lips up.
Harry had been too drawn into the feel of her mouth over his to analyze that look any further, but the memory was singed in the back of his mind. Now he had something to compare it to, a twin expression illuminated by the lights in her apartment and a clear gaze that lacked the haze of her touch.
He didn't want to assume, but Harry could argue that the searching in her gaze was nothing more than a version of want—that he was all too familiar with when it came to her. She had been the one to set boundaries around what conspired when they indulged in the sessions in his bedroom, so he hesitated to assume that she had that same breathless feeling bubbling in her chest the way he had.
But, god, was he going to hope.
Nothing made him feel more prideful than the idea that (Y/N) wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. His stomach tightened at the thought of her sighing his name in the middle of the night like he did with her's, that she might have felt the same tenseness in her muscles as he did when she clung to him while fighting to keep their mouths buttoned together, that she might have taken a single look at him during one of their dates and daydreamed about what it would be like to take him home and be rid of the clothing that adorned his body. He could only hope she felt any of those things when she looked at him.
Just as Harry transitioned his thoughts to something safe—he was currently thinking about the meeting he was going to have to attend on Monday, picturing graphs and stats in hopes of lessening the pressure sitting at the base of his stomach—when (Y/N) called to him from her bedroom.
"Harry, could you come here for a second? Please?" She tacked the plea on as an afterthought, her voice a pitch higher than he would have expected.
He didn't response, instead opting to follow after her voice. The sound of his socked feet padded over the hardwood, following down the line to her bedroom he had only peeked into once before. Her door was cracked only an inch, leaving only a sliver of the inside visible before he pushed it open. He found her peeking out of what he assumed was her walk-in closet, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and eyes wide as she looked at him.
Her room was just as he remembered it, the splashes of pastels dotted over the otherwise sanitized white of the room. She added as much of her personality as she could while still hoping to get the full of her security deposit back when she moved out and stay in the good graces of her landlord all the while. Her large wooden dresser was pushed to the wall in front of her bed, a mirror tacked atop it with each of the ornaments and miscellaneous fixtures she had placed on the surface being reflected in the glass. Her bed frame was made out of twisted metal, the pipes creating delicate loops that decorated the foot and headboard in a pewter color, gleaming lilac in the light. Her bedding matched that of the accents splashed over her room, baby green pillows complimenting the soft pink of her duvet with white appliquéd flowers dotted over the fabric. A shelving unit was pushed against the wall beside the doorway to the bathroom, filled with books she had admitted to him she hadn't read since she was a teenager along with tiny fake plants and little mementos from friends and family she kept when she moved out. A white, fluffy rug was splayed over the middle of the floor, something that made Harry smile when he remembered how she had told him she'd had to get three replacements of it so far, the pristine white being something of a magnet for stains.
"Can you help me really quick?" (Y/N) chirped, drawing his eye from a picture that was propped up on her dresser of her smiling face. She toed the ground nervously, the blue polish on her toes sticking out starkly against the dark wooded floors.
"'Course," Harry agreed, stepping over the fluffed rug under his socked feet, "What do y'need?"
Her bottom lip was swollen due to the pressure of her teeth, her eyes shifting over his form before turning her back to him. "Will you unzip my dress for me? I can't reach."
Harry's brows raised at her request. She'd never had trouble with this part before, even with much more elaborate dresses he could see were tied at the back. Still, he wasn't going to deny her, especially if she requested his help.
He mumbled out an agreement, his feet silent as he stood in line behind her. She had taken the liberty to brush her hair out of his way, leaving the bare of her neck on display along with the delicate curve of her shoulders that were left for him to see with the help of the drop sleeves. He tried not to let his gaze linger over the fresh view of her skin, those limping thoughts about Monday's meeting doing little to quell the fire in his stomach. He concentrated on the glimmering zipper that started at the mid of her back, a bright point of focus he was going to take advantage of.
The second his fingers brushed the bare of her back, the tips seemingly alight with fire at the way they burned in hopes of touching her again, he knew he was gone. One hand was laid flat over the fabric of her dress, keeping it steady as the other plucked at the zipper. More and more of her back was revealed as he unlaced the teeth that were keeping the garment together. If not for (Y/N)'s hands keeping the dress pressed against her chest, he would have seen even more intimate parts of her skin on display given it was revealed she wasn't wearing a bra through the night.
His hand grew unsteady as he traced the zipper down the curve of her spine, ending just above where he could see a peek of her underwear. His tongue felt thick as he tried to swallow around it, his throat equally as dry as he kept his eyes pinned to the bare of her skin. "There," he murmured gruffly, gravel roughing up his tone that he hadn't meant to let seep in.
Taking a hesitant step back caused a rush of cool air to filter between them, dousing Harry's heated skin. He found traction in his breathing again, a rhythm returning now that his mind wasn't so occupied with the feel and look of her smooth skin. He awaited the usual chirp of (Y/N)'s voice, a sweet thank you he earned after the sweet tasks that took little to no effort for him to do.
Instead, Harry's eyes widened when she dropped the bodice of her dress, the entire garment falling to pool at her feet.
Lengths of bare skin were revealed for him to feast upon, catalogue and burn into his memory. He felt something like a statue as he stood completely still, muscles frozen as she stepped out of the fabric circling her feet. Her muscles moved and curled under her skin, her form curving around the short steps she took before she buried her toes into the downy rug under her feet. What he had perceived as underwear was actually nothing more than a few baby blue dyed strings coming together to cover the bare minimum of her modesty. One ribbon tied into a bow just above her bottom before disappearing between the curves of her ass, the rest of the tie coming around to circle her hips.
Before he could fully take in the view of her bare backside (he was still working his way over the soft of her thighs, but he kept getting distracted at the fact she had been wearing nothing but a tiny thong through dinner and when he took her for a walk afterwards), (Y/N) turned around offering an entirely new view to soak in.
Harry took another stumbling step backwards, adverting his eyes to a safe spot of fake wood grain that made up her flooring. He wasn't supposed to still be here, surely. She must have thought he had quietly stepped out before she dropped her dress. She hadn't intended for him to see her like this, right?
He forced out a cough, hoping to knock the gravel from his tone, "Sorry—Let me ju—I'll be in the othe—"
"You don't want to stay?"
How was he supposed to answer this? Because, fuck, did he want to stay, but what about the guidelines she had given him the moment they started inching into this intimate territory?
He carefully flicked his eyes up to her face, bypassing the length of her body in hopes of avoiding further tightening his pants. A tense settled over his shoulders, broadening them just as he pulled in a chest-puffing breath. "I don't want to do anything y'don't want, (Y/N). And, 'm worried that if I stay, I might take the invitation the wrong way."
That was all the explanation he could muster through his jumbled thoughts. He was going to stay firm on the boundaries she had given him until she said otherwise. Just because she had dropped her dress and left more of her exposed than Harry had dared to allow himself to imagine, doesn't mean she was wiping those expectations away.
(Y/N) took a sheepish step towards him, the blue paint on her toes peeking through the white fluff of a rug under her feet. Her arms had come to cross over her chest, bunching her breasts together while her fingers bundled into a knot just under her chin. "I don't think you'll take it the wrong way," she murmured as she took steps closer and closer to him.
Once she was close enough to be in Harry's dipped viewpoint, effectively cutting off the point on the floor he was drilling his gaze into, he made a point to fix his gaze onto her face. He didn't think he could handle himself if he allowed his eyes to linger over the line of cleavage on her chest or the soft skin of her tummy calling for him to press kisses across, and especially not the full of her thighs that made a true v-shape that framed the small piece of fabric between her legs.
She must have taken a moment to wipe her makeup from her skin, leaving a flustered glow to emanate from her skin, rivaling the sparkling of her starlight eyes. Harry made a choice to tuck his hands into his pockets, otherwise he knew he wouldn't have stopped himself from cradling her cheeks in his palms and brushing back the offending strands of her hair that dare block his view of her features.
"I don't want to assume anything, (Y/N)," he started, voice low as if there were anyone near by to overhear, "Y'need to tell me what you want; what you're comfortable with. If not, 'm going to leave your room and let y'get dressed."
He wasn't trying to scare her, or make her feel like he didn't want to be in this slowly heating room, but he needed to hear it from her directly. (It was only an endearing side-effect that he got to see how flustered this stern voice and request of her words got her).
She thickly swallowed, throat bobbing right by her thrumming pulse at the base. Her still wide eyes were fixed on his own hooded ones, darting over his features and tracing the planes with as much detail he swears he could have felt the ghost of her fingers following after. "I-I want you to stay—You won't get the wrong idea since I want the same thing," was her murmured response, her volume lacking over her stumbled words.
Harry dared to settled his hands over the round of her hips, the pad of his thumbs catching on the satin smooth ribbon that made up her panties. His hands were warm over the curve, her form filling his palms perfectly. "Tell me what y'want," he pressed, the words coming out as a sultry croon, "Why do y'want me to stay when we should be getting ready to watch some movie out there before y'climb in my lap and let me kiss y'til y'fall asleep?"
A dreamy trance took over (Y/N)'s sightline, the shift in her demeanor becoming visible to Harry with the way she all but melted into his hands and her breathing turned shallow. "I want to do more than just kiss tonight."
"Y'want me to touch you?"
That was like music to his ears, but better. He couldn't wait to play with her.
Now that he was getting a much clearer idea of what she wanted from him tonight, he was ready to test some of the boundaries she had set. "I am touching you, pretty girl. Isn't this enough?"
"No," she whispered, the word leaning on a whimper as it came out, "I want more."
A lazy smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the curl becoming lopsided as only one dimple dented into his cheek. "Where do y'want me to touch then? Show me." As he spoke, he backed her up towards the edge of her bed. She obediently followed his movements, her steps much more disjointed as he kept her eyes fixed on him. "Lay up there for me," he instructed as his eyes flicked to the collection of pillows at the top of her bed, before dropping a kiss to the top of her heated cheekbone.
She all but scrambled atop the mattress, laying flat on her back with her knees bent and spread wide to accommodate Harry between them. He allowed his gaze to linger over her form, her arms having dropped from the shield they formed over her breasts, instead leaving just the veil of her hair to splay over her chest with the peaks of her nipples glimpsing through the strands. Her hands were bunched into the covers around her, the grip tightening as Harry approached. He discarded the jacket he had worn for their date in the same pile as her dress, leaving only the silky cream button up to stretch over the broad of his chest.
Kneeing his way over the mattress, he stopped between her legs with her knees on either side of his hips. That same lazy grin stretched over his lips, quirking only a single dimple into the full of his cheek as he looked her over.
"Well," he drawled, "Aren't y'gonna show me?"
(Y/N)'s chest stuttered with an interrupted intake of breath, her breasts swaying at the motion. "Harry, I—"
Her words caught in her throat, hanging in the air as Harry gazed down at her from his perspective above her gentle body.
"'S okay, pretty girl, 's jus' me. All you've got to do is show me," he encouraged, offering her his hands to place over her body in the game he initiated.
Hesitation flashed over her gaze as her eyes shifted from his face to his hands he was offering to her palms up, still ring-clad and gleaming in the low light. "I don't know what I'm doing," she rushed out, a bleat to her voice as her nerves turned up.
Harry lent back on his heels as he processed her explanation. The thin boundaries and hesitation now making sense if she wasn't quite as experienced in this area as he was. No wonder she had been so flustered when he prodded and pressed her.
His previously wandering gaze raced up to her face, feeling guilty to have looked over her when she was having such nerves while he was playing. "'M sorry, (Y/N)," he cooed, aching to reach out and grab at her hands that were twisted in the bedsheets at her sides, "I didn't know. We can stop now, 'kay?"
He intended to back himself off her plush bed, but he was promptly stopped when (Y/N) shot to a sitting position. Her once white-knuckled hands moved to grab at the waist of his pants, clinging to the belt loops and keeping him from moving an inch farther. "Don't leave," she pleaded, "I only wanted you to know in case I was a little lost. Please, stay."
Harry fluttered his fingers over her outstretched arms, tracing over the skin as goosebumps followed in his wake. He cupped her elbows in his palms, curling down until he could comfortably pull her hands to sit on his cheeks. He filled her vision and fixed her attention to him, away from the chill she was surely feeling over the bare of her body and the caress of his hands over her goosebumped arms.
"You've never done this before, love?" he asked her, needing to get a bigger picture of what she might be comfortable with.
She shook her head, the motion small, "I have, but only once all the way. It was a few years ago and not very good, so I don't really know what I'm doing or what you want me to do."
Though he would have been more than happy to guide her through her first time, a bit of pressure was lifted from Harry's chest at the knowledge that this wasn't the very first experience she would have. He could work with that, and blow her first time out of the water since it apparently wasn't satisfying.
"That's okay," Harry smiled, a tender curl of his lips that let her know just how much he adored her if she didn't already, "All I want is for you to feel good, we can get through the rest together, right?"
"Me and you?" she chirped, a glowing smile complimenting her features and rounding her cheeks.
Harry dipped his head forward and pushed his nose against her's in a delicate puppy's kiss. "Jus' me and you."
He intended to pull away, give her some space to breathe, but (Y/N) firmed her hold on either side of his jaw. Her fingertips dipped into the baby thin curls that bordered his hairline as she kept him stationed close enough their lashes could have tangled at the proximity. She didn't waste a second before gently slotting their lips together, craning her neck to seal her mouth against his in an effort to soak in as much of the contact as she could. Harry smiled into the kiss, leaning into her and relieving the tick in her neck. With his insisting motions, (Y/N) lowered herself to lay in the imprint she had left on her bed below her, settling in the plush duvet with Harry atop her this time. His hands that had been cradling the curve of her elbows moved. One went around her waist, trapping him happily between the pink comforter hugging her body and the heat of her bare back, while his other settled at the base of her throat with his fingers curling around the nape and his thumb brushing along the curve.
"How far do y'want to go tonight, (Y/N)? Y'have to tell me so I don't assume," he pressed, the words mumbled into her kiss-swollen lips. Cracking his eyes open to nothing more than slits, Harry caught sight of the slight furrow to her brow, her ardent kisses matching the expression.
"I want all of you." Her answer was simple and breathless, just the bare minimum explanation before she urged her mouth against his. "Just go slow with me,"
Harry could do that, he decided, he could definitely take his time with her. No complaints there.
Going along with his oath to go slow with her, he started off in their usual routine, the one they had curated in the dark of his bedroom. He kissed her as if those fine boundaries were still in place and that dress that was now a crumpled heap on the floor still adorned her body. The motions had been perfected during those long sessions at his home, his hands keeping her pressed to him as though the intention was to hold her through the night.
Much like the night he had first seen that searching look on her face, Harry chanced a rut of his hips against hers. The soft of her core welcomed the stiff tent that had formed in the front of his pants with the hug of her thighs tightening around his form. He waited for any kind of unfavorable reaction, one that would prompt him to slow even further down. Instead, a breathy sigh fell from her lips and fanned over Harry's own.
The next time, it was (Y/N)'s restless body that dragged her hips over his, bucking up against him. She hummed a call of his name against the full of his kiss, a familiar sound that he'd had the privilege of hearing every time they indulged in long make-out sessions in his bedroom, though it never lost the tightening effect it had on the tension building under the flat of his stomach. Her hands that had been cradling his cheeks moved to the back of his head, brushing through the curls with the blunt of her nails sliding over his scalp.
A hiss escaped Harry's lips at the feel of her nails in his hair, his own arm that had been backed around her waist snaked out of position to trace over the curve of her side. His palm skated over her bare skin, tips of his fingers brushing her hair out of the way before settling over the full of her breast. He pressed his tongue into her mouth just as his hand squeezed around the flesh, his fingertips softly denting into the skin as she gave way under him. (Y/N) whimpered into his mouth, her nipple peaking under his palm despite the heat of his touch.
"Y'like that, pretty girl?" he crooned to her, his words all but swallowed by her in her effort to keep kissing him.
"Mhm," she bleated, a frantic nodding of her head accompanying the hum before she took advantage of the grip on his hair and brought him back to her.
"I can't wait to find all the things y'like, sweetheart," he murmured, his words a ghost over her skin as he bypassed her lips and painted his own over the warmed features of her face, "'S going to be s'much fun, don't you think?"
"Better," she breathed, an incomplete thought hanging in the humid air surrounding them, "You're better already."
While it wasn't much of a surprise to know he was the best out of her limited experience, Harry didn't bother to fight off the pride puffing his chest and the smug smile curling his lips. He worked his way from the soft heat that fluttered through her features, meeting where his hand still lay as a steadying weight at the base of her throat. His lips never truly lifted from her skin, instead dragging over her before planting another in his trail. His hands followed after him, shifting to skim over her sides with his thumbs denting into her skin from the strength of his grip.
Harry stopped when he made it to the middle of her chest, opting to spend extra time there if her earlier whimpering meant anything about her sensitivity. The valley between her breasts was littered in a slew of wet kisses, matching the sheen that glimmered over her warmed skin. He opened his eyes as he swiped his tongue along the bottom curve of one of her breasts, watching for (Y/N) reaction. He was gifted with a tug at the roots of his hair and a breathless gasp.
"Harry," she whined when he placed a sucking kiss to her pert nipple, drawing a smile to his features as he repeated the affection to its twin.
"Y'sound so pretty when y'say m'name like that, pretty girl," he crooned to her, sounding entirely too smug but he didn't have it in him to care.
(Y/N) practically melted into the mattress below her, the comforter doing all the work of keeping her together while Harry lit a path of fire down her body. The tip of his nose skimmed down the soft of her stomach as he dragged his lips over the expanse, wet kisses shining in the low light as he planted them over her skin. He made it as far with her hips cradled in his hands, the length of his fingers reaching to dent the tips into the full of her ass as his mouth halted right at the waistline of her panties. He bit at the delicate fabric, the tiny bow placed between his teeth.
He fully intended on slipping his fingers under the flimsy material and shucking it down her legs before he indulged in his own pleasure with his face between her thighs until (Y/N) pulled her hands from his hair and dropped them to the broad of his shoulders.
"Wait, wait," she rushed, breathing coming out in heaves around the words.
Harry stilled in an instant, slipping his hands from her hips to sit on the curve of her waist as he pulled his head from between her thighs. His eyes were wide with bewilderment, he was sure, worried he had gone too far without checking in and had effectively made her uncomfortable.
"What is it, lovie? Are y'alright?"
Her fingers tightly gripped the thin fabric of his shirt in her fists, a silent request for him to come back to her. He followed her tugging, moving to station his hands on either side of her head as he hovered above her. The starlight of her eyes twinkled up at him despite her pupil that was blown wide enough to leave but a sliver of the iris left for him to admire.
"I want you first," she explained, ignoring his checkin on her wellbeing. Her hands on his shoulders slid further down the expanse of his chest, landing on the remaining buttons that tethered his top together.
"What do y'want from me, sweetheart?" he pressed, unsure of the idea of skipping foreplay and moving right into sinking his cock into her. (He personally really enjoyed foreplay, maybe even more than the sex itself, so he would be a little disappointed if she wanted to move on so quickly).
Her darting eyes followed the path of her hands, "I want you out of your clothes first. I want to be able to see you."
A smirk spread over his lips, a dimple thumbing into the full of his cheek. "Y'should've said that at the beginning, love. More than happy to give you a show."
(Y/N)'s own lips cracked into a soft smile, the bit of humor breaking through the intensity of the moment they had curated in the bubble of her bed. Anything to make her feel comfortable.
Harry reluctantly left her splayed across her bed, already working the buttons on his shirt through the holes before flinging it to the pile on the floor. It was only minutes later that his belt and pants joined the mess, and one more for his rings to be discarded on the side table to her bed. Her eyes watched him the whole time—aside from when he made a show of shaking his bum at her when he tugged down his trousers, instead opting to bury her face in her hands as she laughed at him. He was bare aside from the boxers that covered his length, though the shape was clear to see through the wine red of the fabric.
"Good enough now, pretty girl?" he teased as he climbed onto the mattress, kneeing his way back to her.
He was all too aware of the way her eyes raked over his form, lingering on his tented boxers. Her mouth was set in a soft gape, hands settled between her thighs as she tightly gripped the pink of her duvet.
"Can I—I want to..." Her words hung in the air as her eyes dropped from his smug face back to the full crotch of his boxers. She swallowed thickly, eyes darting up to match his for only a second before falling back down the length of him, "Harry, can I touch you? Please?"
Harry bit at his bottom lip hard enough he was worried it was going to split. "Y'want to touch me, love? What do y'want to touch?"
She crawled the short distance between them, falling back on her heels where Harry was stilted up on his knees, taller than she was. Her eyes flicked between his and her hand she was reaching towards him, shyly watching for a reaction as her palm settled on the thick of his thigh, just under the tiger head tattooed over the skin. "Can I touch you here?" she whispered, her fingertips playing with the hem of the underwear, "I've never really done it before, but I-I want to try."
His bones were sure to give out with his muscles liquifying and turning him into a puddle. Harry couldn't deny such a sweet request; she wanted to take care of him before he even had the chance to do the same for her. A precious thing, she was.
"We're doing anything y'want tonight, remember, pretty girl?" he smiled, reaching for her shoulders to pull her upright, "Where do y'want me?"
She bit at the the full of her bottom lip at his line of questioning. "I don't know."
Harry couldn't resist before urging forward and pressing a kiss to her blooming cheek. "Y'said you've never done this before, right?" a nod given in response, "Then we'll make this really easy for you, 'kay? Make sure you're comfortable." (Y/N) agreed with another slight nod of her head, the ends of her hair tickling her bare skin and brushing Harry's hands. He started maneuvering them around around as he spoke, "'M gonna lay up here, and I want y'stay right there for me."
Mimicking her earlier position, Harry laid with his head cushioned by her hoard of pillows (the daisy shaped one she had in the dead center was his favorite by far), legs spread wide enough to accommodate her between. With the new angle, (Y/N) was left with an unobstructed view of the tent in his boxers, the outline being emphasized by the shadows created from the low lamplight. She sat tentatively on the mattress, unsure of where to go now though all she wanted was to work her way between his thighs and follow any instructions he may give.
"I think it'll be easiest for y'like this, yeah? Won't hurt your knees, either," he explained, resting with a hand behind his head while the other skimmed the waist of his underwear. He gazed at her with a small smile on his lips, his eyes going hooded as he traced the curves of her body with a pointed brush over the full of her lips. "Why are y'so far away, pretty girl? 'M not gonna hurt you; y'can come closer."
With his permission, she shuffled over the bedding. The comforter fluffed around her like a sunset tinted cloud, or the waves that birthed Venus herself. If not for the fact he was indulging in her wish to take care of him, he would have dropped to his own knees in worship of her.
"I-I've only done this a couple of times, but I want to do it how you like," (Y/N) mumbled, eyes roaming over his tattooed chest before settling on his face as if she were scared to stay in one place too long in case she gave away how attracted she was to him. Not a very well kept secret, but he wasn't going to tell her that.
"Well, you're gonna have to give me a kiss first," Harry prompted, already sitting up from his lounging position. He sat with his hand flat behind him to prop himself up, craning his neck towards her with a pucker to his lips.
(Y/N) was more than eager to indulge in the familiar, practiced contact. She settled her hands flat over the cut of his jaw, the warmth of her palms seeping through his skin as if she didn't already have him flushed enough. It was a slow kiss, languid in the way he slotted his lips against hers and slipped his tongue across her own. The next time he did this, he was sure to taste a bit of himself along the buds.
"Ready?" he whispered to her, the breath coming out humid in the space between them.
With an eager nod of her head, (Y/N) gave him a sincere smile, though nerves still tugged at the corners. He trusted her to tell him if she was uncomfortable or wanted to slow down, but he was still going to keep a close eye on her and go slow just as she requested.
Harry returned to his previous position, taking in a deep breath as he took in the sight of his lover with kiss-swollen lips she was about to wrap around him. "C'mere, pretty girl," he crooned, reaching his free hand towards her, "Give me your hand."
She laid her palm flat against his like she was expecting him to hold it—what a sweet little thing. He took her hand, eyes gauging her reaction, and laid it with her palm flat over the outline of his prick. The fabric was surely warm from the temperature of his skin, seeping through it in the same throbbing waves he could feel pulsing in his stomach. She hesitated for a moment before wrapping her fingers around the clear girth, eyes meeting his as her own breathing turned to heaves that matched the rise and fall of his chest.
Relaxing back into the pillows, Harry let her get familiar with this part of his body, "Get used to me, sweetheart, then we'll keep going." His voice was strained, teeth coming to trap the flesh of his bottom lip as he started watching each of her movements.
Wide, starlight eyes were fixed on her own hand as she swiped her thumb over where she perceived the head to be, only to be rewarded with a breathy sigh that exhaled from Harry's nose. "You're really big, H," she whispered, the words seemingly coming out on their own accord as she never shifted her acknowledgment from her hand.
"Yeah?" he gasped out, a smug curl taking over his bitten lips, "Y'like that?"
Maybe he was a little too proud of his size, but how could he not be when he's been praised for it time and time again. Just because he didn't date often didn't mean there weren't people who had seen the inside of his bedroom and lived to tell the tale with a satisfied smile on their faces. But, he needed to hear (Y/N) say it; that would outshine any kind of praised-induced flush anyone else had given him.
And, fuck, would it just be hot to know she liked his body, every inch of it.
She frantically nodded her head with a gaped mouth, flicking her gaze to him through the frame of her lashes, "I've never—You're the biggest."
Harry all but melted into her mattress at the praise, more than satisfied with her response. (Y/N) took her time and got familiar with the length of him over the fabric of his boxers, gripping and releasing with swipes of her thumb over the slowly dampening patch at his head. He was acutely aware of the way she retracted her hand to slide over the thick of his thigh, her nails minutely catching on his skin that caused faint red lines to appear in her wake, only for her other hand to reach for the elastic on his underwear.
"Go 'head, pretty girl. Already doing so good, can't wait to really feel you," Harry groaned, his tongue lazily wrapping around his words as he looked at her through a vignetted gaze.
Tucking her fingers into the waistband, she tugged his underwear far enough down to expose his cock. Harry helped her as she worked it down his legs before the garment joined the pile on her floor. He was left completely bare as opposed to the tiny triangle of fabric still tucked between her thighs, his cock heavy against his stomach. The head was flushed a ruddy red, shining with the remnants of the precum that seeped out when she had been playing, balls tucked tight against the base.
With some lingering hesitation, (Y/N) wrapped her hand around his shaft the same way she had been through his boxers. Her fingers just barely connected around the girth of him, the weight of his prick laying heavy in her hand. She worked her hand gently over him, a little too dry even with the added slickness of the limited pearls of precum that managed to slip down his length.
"Gotta get me wet first, pretty girl," Harry sighed, curling to sit up in front of her. He plucked her hand by the wrist, leaving his cock to settle against his stomach again. He brought her hand to his mouth, feeling her eyes on him the whole time. His own fluttered closed as he slid the flat of his tongue over her hand, laving over her palm and slicking the skin before trailing up to the tip of her fingers. He pressed a lingering kiss to the pads, blinking his eyes open to catch her looking at him with that yearning look glazed over her gaze. He lent back like he hadn't just given her an erotic performance, guiding her hand back down to his heated cock. "Try that, love."
That heavenly glow that emanated from her skin only intensified at his casual dismissal of his actions, (Y/N) lagging for a moment before tightening her grip on his thigh and wrapping her fist around his shaft. She seemed less inhibited this time, Harry's show having spurred her on. She stroked her hand over his length in long pulls, lingering around the tip as she swiped her spit-slicked thumb over the crown. The lazy strokes emulated the soft thrusts he was aching to do through the soft opening of her pussy, the walls tightening into ridges just like her fingers.
"Keep doing that, love, right there," he sighed when she circled the slit, pressing her thumb lightly into the engorged head. His hand behind his head clenched into his hair, tangling the curls between his fingers in a sharp tug. The full of his bottom lip was bit tightly between his teeth, emulating the small pricks of pressure from her nails digging into his thigh.
"Wh-What else do you like?" she asked, voice small and lacking breath though she was only gazing upon his pleasure.
Her breasts peeked through the hair veiling her chest, nipples catching on the strands with each intake of air she brought deep into her lungs. God, he couldn't wait for his chance to play with her body, get familiar with it the way she was doing with his.
"Hold me a little tighter, pretty girl, and go faster," he instructed, gravel crumbling into his tone and deepening his words, "I like it a little rough."
Somehow, his words were able to draw a moan from the girl between his legs, not a hand of his on her to elicit the reaction—only the implication of his words. Nonetheless, (Y/N) did as told, tightening her fist and passing along his shaft in quicker pulls, still taking the time to care for the weeping head that pearled with blurts of precum.
"Like that?" she asked through spit-slicked lips, the light catching the trails her tongue had made over the plush flesh. She lent her head against his bent knee, eyes fixed on her hand that moved over him and along the pulsing vein that laced along the underside.
"Jus' like that," he said, the praise getting stuck in his throat as he fought off a moan in favor of talking to her, "Whenever you're ready, why don't y'give it some kisses? I like that too."
(Y/N) didn't wait like he had expected, instead immediately dipping her head down and smearing her lips over the crown of his prick. Harry didn't bother to conceal his noises of contentment now, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat as he felt the full of her lips cradle his head between the pillows. The only sign of acknowledgment she gave was her eyes peeking up at him through her lashes, otherwise her hand never stuttered in its curated rhythm and her lips continued planting themselves across his heated length.
On her own accord, she worked herself over his shaft, her hand slowing only the tiniest bit as she dotted her lips down to the base. There, she stopped, using only her hand to work over his cock while she looked to Harry with the first sign of hesitation since she'd gotten his encouragement.
"Can I..?" she trailed off, her request hanging in the air as she tipped her head to the side with her hair brushing the inside of his thigh. Her breath fanned over the sensitive skin at his base, his length twitching in her hand as she spoke.
"Y'don't even have to ask, pretty girl," he groaned, a curse slipping out in anticipation of what she was asking permission for.
At his cue, (Y/N) urged forward, resuming the path she had interrupted. She planted a single kiss at the base of his cock before slipping further down and brushing her mouth over the the skin hugging his balls to prick. Harry's eyes shuddered closed in a tight seal as he reached his free hand to settle on the back of her head, slipping his fingers through her hair. She took care to only let the soft of her tongue and the plush of her lips brush over him, even going so far as to plant a sucking kiss to either one in hopes of drawing a reaction from Harry.
He was practically blissed out, Harry in his own world as his thigh tensed under her hand and cock jerked in her still stroking hand. The added heat of her mouth enveloping his sensitive balls, drawing more cum to thrum through them, started him off in the direction of the cliff's edge. She hadn't even properly put him in her mouth yet and he could already see the blissful horizon if he shut his eyes tight enough.
Chancing a look at the scene below him, Harry cracked his eyes open and was greeted by something entirely too erotic to be real. (Y/N) was like his own personal film star the way she had her own blissed out expression with gently closed eyes as she doted on him, laving her tongue over his sensitive skin before topping him off with a smattering of kisses. His hand in her hair tightened as a gruff moan fell from between his lips, using the grip on the strands as leverage as he pulled her up.
"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured to her, her hand slowing around his length as he sat up to meet her halfway.
(Y/N)'s lips were coated in her own spit as he caught them in a kiss, the weight of his hand on the back of her neck keeping her secured against him. His lips smeared over her own in a messy version of the practiced contact they had become so used to. He flicked his tongue across the full of her lips before slipping into her mouth, tasting himself on her own buds along with the tangible sweetness he'd come to associate with her. A sighed call of his name was fanned over his mouth, accompanied by a tightening of her fist around his cock.
"I want to keep going," she breathed next, pulling away the fraction of the inch Harry allowed her, lashes tangled together in the corners.
"(Y/N), love, pretty girl," he rattled off, unable to get enough praises and petnames out of his mouth fast enough. He shook his head, nose skimming the tip of her's. How did he get so lucky? "Go 'head, I jus' needed to kiss y'a little first."
He offered one final peck to the corner of her mouth before loosening his hold on the back of her head and sinking back into his previous position, lounging in her pillows with liquid bones and blissed out muscles. (Y/N) stilled her hand at the base of his cock, lowering to lay on her tummy between his legs. The full of his prick stood at attention in front of her face, the breeze of her heaving breaths fanning over the heated skin.
"Do whatever feels right, sweetheart, I promise 'm going to love it no matter what," Harry encouraged as he noticed the moment of hesitation, "I'll tell y'everything I like." His fingers in her hair soothingly massaged at the roots, the blunt of his nails creating points of clarity to remind her he was right there.
(Y/N)'s melted, starlight gaze sized up the length in front of her before staring off easy. She pressed her lips in familiar kisses over his head, occasionally dipping her tongue out and sweeping over the ruddy crown. Pearls of precum had gathered in the time he had pulled her in for a kiss, leaving something for her to taste and spread around with the help of the full of her lips. If her eyes weren't blinked closed in contentment, she gazed up at him through the vignette of her lashes, gauging his reaction for anything in particular that set him off.
Harry wasn't lying when he said he was sure he was going to like everything bit of attention she paid to his hardness. He didn't bar any of his moans and fleeting hisses of pleasure from falling from his lips, even breathy sighs were permitted to exhale in huffs from his nose. He wanted her to know that she was doing so good he swears stars were about to start circling his head. Though he did refrain from bucking his hips up to match the plush of her mouth, no matter how inviting the slick of her tongue was; he was clinging to his promise of going slow on her account.
Finally, she fit the full of his head between her plush lips, the flat of her tongue laving over him while her hand started half strokes over his base. The motions were a tad disjointed, (Y/N) learning what felt comfortable until she curated a rhythm that had Harry's stomach clenching and his toes curling into the pastel bedding behind her. He hissed a call of her name, his fingers in her hair tightened as her tongue laved over him. She eased him further into the warmth of her mouth, laying his weight over the flat of her tongue. Doing her best to sheath her teeth, she gently sucked on what she had in her stretched mouth, watching the reactions of Harry above her.
His stomach jumped with every pulsing motion of her mouth around him, the muscles tightening and dispelling before collecting again in a jolt. "Feels so fucking good, pretty girl, keep going, keep going," he sighed, his words becoming a breathy ramble the longer he let himself continue.
The tip of her tongue worked from where it was pressed under him, writhing over the skin and tracing the strong vein that ran along the length. He wasn't going to be able to last much longer if she kept her playing up, feeling spurts of precum leaking into her mouth, the lag times growing shorter and shorter with every pulsing suck she administered around him.
"Ca-Can y'take more, love? Keep me warm in your pretty, little mouth?"
(Y/N) all but whined with her lips still suctioned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock and shuddering down his spine. He made a point to keep his eyes open, intent on seeing more of her illicit reactions. She pulled away with a soft popping sound as the suction broke, a lingering string of spit connecting her lips to the crown the head of his cock bowing before draping over his length.
"Will you help me? With your hand in my hair and everything?" she breathed, bare chest heaving as she caught her breath.
His fingers that had been in her hair brushed through the strands before tracing the side of her face. He caressed the heated skin, tucking away baby hairs that clung to the glimmering sheen that swirled around her hairline. With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away the stray string of spit that slicked down her chin, bringing that same finger up to his own lips.
With the hint of her taste lingering over his tongue, Harry gave her a small smile. "Like me pulling your hair a little?" he teased, already reaching out to return the reassuring weight of his palm on the back of her head, "I can do that for you, pretty girl, don't worry. Go back to what y'were doing and I'll start helping y'take more, 'kay?"
With her bottom lip bitten between her teeth, eyes fixed solely on him, (Y/N) eagerly nodded her head. She followed his direction, dipping her head and fitting his cock between her lips like she hadn't just learned his body in a span of a half hour. A strained laugh fluttered from Harry's chest, shifting his hand to collect her hair into a loose ponytail on the back of her head. Allowing her a second to refamiliarize herself with what she liked, he took his time collecting the strands of hair. He made detours around her features, thumbing at her dewy cheekbones as she gently sucked around his length. He threaded his fingers along the baby hairs that bordered the back of her neck, catching the ones that clung to her skin as her tongue worked in feather-light strokes around the pulsing veins lacing around his shaft. Her hand jerked over the rest of his cock, coating him in saliva that strung down the length with slick sounds to match.
When she looked at him with the melted starlight swirling around her irises, Harry tightened his grip on her hair. The added leverage used to start easing her down his prick, working in increments as he spent his focus on her reactions. He guided her into a bobbing motion, taking just a bit more every time she sunk her mouth on him. Her breath came out in heaves through her nose. The rhythm was interrupted when he took her just a fraction further down his length, the tell-tale tightening of her throat contracting around the very head of his cock. She gagged around him, sucking in a breath when she had the chance and pulling back from him.
"Sorry, sorry, love," he gasped, still reeling from the second of exposure he got to the vice of her throat, "Tell me if-if I take y'too far, yeah? Need to go slow with you, remember?"
She nodded her head, looking to him with watery eyes. "I'm okay, I'm okay," she heaved, shuffling closer between his thighs.
"Doing so good, you know that? I've gotta be careful so I don't end our night too early," Harry laughed, trying to ease the pressure he could see settling over her shoulders, "Gonna have to start calling you m'best girl instead, I think."
She keened under his praises, taking the initiative to stretch over his glimmering abdomen and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. Before Harry had a chance to cling to her, get a taste of her tongue over his, she was back on her tummy between his thighs.
"Eager little thing too," he crooned, a dreamy tint taking over his view of her. He took her hair in his hand again, taking the same special care of caressing her skin and grabbing every obstructing hair into his fist. "Stop me if y'need to, lovie," he instructed as he started inching her down his length.
Wary of the depth she had to stop last time, Harry made a point to work her up slowly. His eyes were fixed to her's, unable to shudder closed no matter how many yearning moans broke from his chest or slithering bouts of pleasure worked up his spine. The curated tempo of his movements started operating in something of a daze, Harry entirely too wrapped up in how good he felt and the fact that the girl he had yearned over for so long was the one that was delivering it to him.
The slick sounds of her hand working over the remaining inches of his length added to the symphony of noises that echoed through the humid silence of (Y/N)'s room, only to be interrupted when Harry wasn't paying attention as (Y/N) edged herself into the territory he was trying to avoid. In his own blissed out distraction, he hadn't noticed her own attempt at going further and fitting him in her throat. She jerked away from him, leaving only her hand to linger around the base of his cock.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she rushed out, voice raw, "I can't take all of you. I tried but—"
"Shh, shh," Harry cooed to her, drifting his hand from her tousled hair to the soft of her face. He traced over her flustered features, thumbing at the tears that threatened to spill over her waterline, "'S okay, pretty girl, don't worry," his fingers shifting to pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tugging her back to his cock in encouraging nudges, "Jus' suck it, yeah? Y'like doing that, right?"
Her muscles seemingly liquified at his encouragement, willing to move whatever which way he needed her to. With her eyes fluttering shut and a deep breath being sucked into her lungs, she tucked the head of his prick into the warmth of his mouth. Harry was proud of the way she bounced back, eager to please him and all too happy to go to the lengths to make sure he was satisfied (she could have backed out and decided to kiss the night away again, and he would have been more than satisfied, but he liked this route, too). He kept his guiding hand on the back of her head, locks of hair threaded through his fingers as he helped her through the motions.
Every bob of her head over his length pulled another stitch of pleasure tighter in Harry's stomach, especially with the help of her laving tongue that snaked over his length and kept the rest of him slick enough for her hand to work over. She was entirely too good at this given that she had confessed she'd barely done this a few times before. Harry was weak in her hands, and she hadn't even known it.
"Look at me, pretty girl." Gravel coated his tone, the words rough and raw as they worked out of his throat. (Y/N) peeked up at him, mouth stretched wide to accommodate his cock with eyes shimmering like true starlight as tears collected on her waterline. Her cheeks hollowed in small increments as his guiding hand slowed the bobbing motions, wanting to get a good look at his own personal Venus. The pressure in his stomach was too tight, his muscles too tense, and his resolve too weak. "Fuck, c'mere," he grunted, pulling her completely from his cock as he tugged her to him.
The loose ponytail of hair he had held in his fist fell away, the ends tickling over his chest as he stretched her over his humid skin. He caught her lips in a kiss, mouth searing against hers in a heat that matched the one brewing between his thighs.
"Was that—Did I do okay?" she asked, voice raw and breathless as the words fanned over his mouth.
"So fucking good, sweetheart. Had to stop or I'd have cum, and I don't want to do that before I've had you."
She all but wilted in his hold, clinging to his chest like the baby hairs that matted to his temples. With his mouth still sealed her her's, Harry rolled them over in her docile state, pinning her to the pink of her bedding as he hovered above her. He indulged in the swollen plush of her mouth, having been deprived of the feeling of them sealed against his own. The essence of himself he had caught earlier, now soaked over her tongue as he swiped his over the buds. (Y/N) buried her fingers in the tamped down curls that haloed his head, keeping him from disappearing down her body like he intended.
"Gotta let me take care of you, pretty girl," he told her, already reaching for one of her hands in his hair.
"I-I don't need you to," she protested, "I'm ready, you don't need to."
A lazy smile bloomed over his lips, (Y/N) moving to smear kisses over the dimples in his cheeks. His hand that had been grabbing for her hand fell down her arm, caressing the bare of her skin before landing at the base of her neck. "Y'may feel like that, but y'said y'haven't done this in a while, right?"
(Y/N) looked up at him with a sheepish tint in her eyes, "But I think I'll be fine. I don't want to wait, H."
"At least let me open y'up a little, yeah? I don't want to hurt you or anything," he offered. His hand that had been settled on her collarbones traced down her front, splayed between her breasts and the soft of her tummy before landing at the band of her panties. "Trust me, I don't want to wait either, love, but I want it to feel good for you, too."
Her fingers in his hair threaded together before sliding to cradle the back of his neck. Her yearning gaze scanned over his features, lingering over his own eyes before falling to his lips. "Okay, just be fast?"
Harry huffed a laugh; she was more of an impatient thing than an eager one the longer he made her wait. "We'll see," he settled, dipping his head down and pulling her in for a kiss before she had a chance to request any more accommodations.
Tucking his fingers into the waist of her panties, he worked them down her thighs enough to spread her legs wide enough for his hand to fit between. At first touch, he could see why she insisted she was ready to take him, no foreplay needed. She was entirely soaked, her slit spread open as more of her slick seeped from her clenching hole. Harry traced his fingers over her opening, dipping inside and wetting the tips before trailing up towards the apex. Her clit was a pristine pearl at the top of her pussy, sensitive to the feather-soft brush of his fingers. (Y/N) jumped and sighed into his mouth, interrupting the distraction of his tongue exploring the soft of her own.
"You're so wet, pretty girl," he crooned, the whisper floating on a raw undercurrent, "Y'liked making me feel good? Like to please?"
The nod of her head was dreamy in natural the way she did the motion without thinking. "I liked seeing you happy; I just wanted to make you cum," she drawled, words slow and lingering.
Harry hummed, the sound just short of a moan that he tamped down before it could escape. "Y'really are m'best girl," he praised, flicking his fingertips over her swollen clit one more time before relenting.
She asked him to be fast, and he was going to try his hardest to do just that. His slick fingers danced down the length of her slit before dipping into her weeping hole. He started with a single finger, getting a feel of how tight she was, a gasp of his name being smeared over his cheek as the digit sunk inside.
Her walls readily swallowed around him, coaxing his finger deeper in sucking pulls. He reared back, readying another finger to sink in beside the first. A choked moan was granted as his praise. The pair of his fingers curled inside her, finding the perfectly spongy cushion on her wall.
"Harry, I—" (Y/N) tried to say, her voice cut off by her own gasp.
"I know, pretty girl," he cooed, painting his lips in a heart over the soft of her flushed cheek, "I know, but we've got to be fast, right? I don't want to keep y'waiting."
His teasing words were ignored as he started scissoring the digits in an effort to spread open her snug walls. They accommodated him fully, clinging to every motion he made while trying to draw him deeper. (Y/N)'s own fingers in his hair mimicked the pulsing going on inside of her, tugging on the strands with every stroke he pushed through her.
"'M gonna add one more, yeah? Tell me if 's too much," he warned, pulling his drenched fingers from her. (Y/N) wordlessly nodded her head, eyes shuddered closed as she clung to him.
The trio of his digits formed something of a pyramid, stacked atop one another as he worked them inside. He was met with resistance from her clenching hole, the first sign of how long it had truly been for her the last time she had anything that big inside her. She gasped as he prodded forward, nudging at her clenched hole.
"Still okay, love?" he grunted, allowing her to pull him to her puckered lips. He indulged in a single kiss from her before he turned away, giving her access to his jawline which she happily painted her lips across.
"I'm okay, keep going," she urged him, words muffled against his heated skin.
He huffed a laugh through his nose. She was entirely too precious for what they were doing at the moment. Nonetheless, he abided by her request and marched on, fitting the thick of his fingers into her opening and spreading them as best he could in the limited space. Her breathing was labored, breasts heaving and brushing against his own chest with each intake. He took his time, working his fingers through in steady strokes before spreading out the trio and stretching her snug walls apart. They pulsed around him like a heartbeat, urging him deeper though he didn't have anymore to give until he fit his own hips against hers.
In an effort to distract from the pushing and pulling of his fingers, this part less pleasurable as he was intent on doing nothing more than stretching her, Harry worked a trail of kisses from the full of her cheek and down the curve of her neck. He skimmed his lips over the round of her breast before taking her peaked nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue over the bud. She keened into his touch, back arching into his mouth. With the help of her clenched hands behind his neck, she kept him pressed against the flesh, urging him to continue with breathless whimpers and half-finished sighs of his name.
Harry felt her wetness seeping over his digits, slicking between his fingers and slipping down over his knuckles. She was still tight enough that he was no doubt going to be a stretch when he thrusted inside, but he wasn't worried about any lingering strains that he could put on her. Pulling his drenched fingers from her hole, Harry spread them over the whole of her slit, making pointed brushes against her clit. A hiss of his name and a tug to his hair reminded him that this wasn't even the end of the night; he was going to get an even better feel of the wetness between her legs.
Kissing his way from her chest, Harry whispered, "I think you're ready, pretty girl." He nudged his nose along the line of her jaw, strands of her sweat-dampened hair tickling his face, "Y'feel ready?"
A frantic nod was gifted in response, "Yes, yes—Please."
(Y/N) didn't waste a second before she started tugging him to sit comfortably between her thighs, shaking her legs free of the flimsy material that made up her underwear. Harry let out a breathy laugh, the sound mixing in with the humid air that surrounded them. "Hold on, slow down," he smiled, "I've got to grab something first."
He reluctantly left the heat of her bed, his body calling to stay attached to her's. Making quick work of rifling through the pile of clothing on the floor, he found his pants and searched the pockets for his wallet.
"What are you looking for?" (Y/N) asked, propping her self up on her elbows with her eyes fixed on his bare form.
"Condom," he responded, flipping open the leather of his wallet and finding the foil packet he had tucked away in hopes of a night like this.
(Y/N) fell back with a laugh, "You planned this?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders, using his teeth to bite open the wrapping. "Can't say I didn't hope. Can y'blame me, pretty girl?" he prodded, rolling the rubber over his length, "You're a very good kisser, so 's hard not to think about what else y'might be good at."
A beat passed as he situated the condom on his prick, a shudder working down his spine as he tugged a few cursory passes of his fist over the length.
"You're a good kisser, too."
A breathy laugh fell fell from Harry's lips. "Thank you, love," he smiled, all but rushing to join her snuggled form on the bed. He crawled between her spread legs, finding her own lips curled into a small smile, a touch of clarity rejoining her eyes.
She welcomed him between her thighs, the space crafted to hold his hips and cling to him. Harry stationed his hands on either side of her head, matching the gaze of her starlight eyes. The palms of her hands settled on the broad of his shoulders, fingers digging into the tensed muscles as the pad of her thumb traced over the tattoos inked over his collarbones.
It was Harry's turn to pull her into an easing kiss as he slowly lowered himself to press the length of his body over her own. The weight of his prick was fit between them, the soft of her tummy cushioning him as he fought off the urge to rut into her. The full of her thighs tightened around his hips with each lingering swipe of her tongue over his, causing the slickness between her thighs to slip over the underside of his heated cock. A rocky groan slipped from the back of Harry's throat only to be swallowed by (Y/N).
"Can you—Please, I want you," she stuttered against his lips, "You said we wouldn't wait any—"
"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, "I know. Gonna push in right now, yeah? Gonna go slow with you."
He stuck to his word, reaching a hand between their bodies and grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. Rearing his hips back despite the resistance given from her gripping thighs, Harry lined himself up with the plush opening of her pussy. He slicked his head through her slit, brushing her sensitive clit and smearing the wetness around her folds.
(Y/N) tucked her face into his neck, planting her lips along the curve of his throat with her nose skimming over his jawline. His hand he had wrapped in the bedding beside her head gripping the fabric even tighter as he felt the phantom clench of her hole kissing at his nudging head. True to his promise, he made slow work of tucking his prick inside her, savoring the velvet of her pulsing walls. A gasp stuttered from his chest as the crown of his cock popped inside her, the ridge clearing the tightest tensing of her inner walls. (Y/N) breathed out a call of his name, the word melting over his heated skin, adding to the humidity that clung to him.
"Fuck," he cursed as her walls coaxed him inside, doing half the work as he smoothly sunk inside her, "You're s'fucking wet, pretty girl, sucking me in. 'M not gonna last."
Her mouth gaped around words she couldn't get out, the full of her lips felt against his neck where she buried her face into his shoulder. "I fe-feel you everywhere," she managed to choke out, her voice dissolving halfway through as he bottomed out.
"Yeah?" Harry panted, knocking his hips against hers with a thwack of his balls against her ass, "Deep enough, love?" Starting off a slow pace, the slick of her wetness added to the sounds of contentment and breathless yearning that built in Harry's chest and fell delicately from (Y/N)'s lips.
A frantic nod of her head caused her lashes to brush over his neck with her lips dragging over his skin. "So deep, its in my tummy."
Harry's eyes could have rolled to the back of his head when she said that, his hips stuttering against her's in a clinging grind. He knew he was big, and decidedly bigger than anyone she had been with in the past, but that kind of praise went straight to his head and pulled his balls tight against the underside of his cock. He really wasn't going to last if she kept this up.
Turning his head, he forced her out of the protection of his neck, and pulled her in for a kiss the first second he got. His mouth smeared across the full of her lips, sealing over the spit-slicked pillows. "I've wanted y'for so long, (Y/N), you know that?" he mumbled, the intimacy of the moment loosening his lips, "Been waiting to take care of y'like y'deserve. Show y'how much I care about you."
"Harry," she sighed, the short volume being all she could manage with the breath she had left. Each lingering thrust of his hips into hers pulled another breath from her lungs and melted her into the mattress, leaving only her clinging grasp on him to keep her from falling a dreamy haze.
"I know, pretty girl," he crooned, his voice strained as the tension in his stomach increased, his focus fixing on making sure he didn't cum right at the sound of his name on her tongue, "Gonna make y'cum so hard tonight, make y'feel so good—better than anyone else."
Harry emphasized his point with a hard stroke inside her, his guiding hand that he had settled on the bone of her hip drifting over to smear the pad of his thumb over her clit. Just because he was going to stick to his word of taking her slowly, didn't mean he was going to wait to make her cum around him.
"You're alr-already the best, Harry—oh my god," she bleated, taking away Harry's chance at answering her as she sealed her lips to his and slipped her tongue inside his mouth.
Every round of Harry's thumb over her clit coincided with a thrust of his hips, her walls fluttering and sucking around him as sparks of pleasure manifested in her tense muscles and strings of her wetness seeping around him. She squirmed into him, arching her back with her breasts pressed tightly against his chest with her hips grinding into his every chance she had.
"I think I'm gonna—Harry, I'm—" she floundered, words floating in the air around them as she couldn't find the frame of mind to finish them. He knew what she was saying, anyway, if the way her fingers clutching his hair and the tightening of her pussy was anything to go by.
He gave her space to breathe, smoothing his mouth over her cheek to feel the flushed skin and skim his nose over her dewy cheekbone. "Cum for me, pretty girl, 'm right here. I've got you, jus' cum for me."
That was all the encouragement she needed, Harry's relentless working of her body coming to a head as she let go around him in frantic pulses of her walls and the tight grip of her thighs around his hips. Her back arched, keening noises falling from her lips that sounded a lot like Harry's name. With her eyes still shuddered tightly closed, she ground her hips upwards into his hand, enveloping the full of Harry's length and wetting him with the gush of her slick that seeped from her fluttering hole.
Feeling her release around him and the intimacy of the way she clung to him was enough for Harry to feel his own orgasm on the horizon. He helped her through the aftershocks as best her could before his own muscles gave way to the tight coil in his stomach, hips stuttering before resorting to deep grinds against the furthest of her tight walls. His cum came in spurts, painting the inside of the condom and making his body feel hot to the touch.
"(Y/N), sweetheart, fuck," he groaned, nothing else in his head registering but the mantra of her name and the blissful pleasure she was inducing for him. He attached his lips to her thrumming pulse, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin as a way of quelling his need to be all around her, on her, and in her—even more so than he already was.
Tremors shock up his spine as he finally settled, relaxing his weight atop her as he melted. Harry's breathing came out in disjointed pants against her neck, finally noticing the curling of her fingers through his hair and the delicate brush of her fingertips against his scalp. (Y/N)'s own hold on him waned, now only delicately clinging to him if only to remind herself he was real and he was right there, just as he promised.
It felt like tradition for Harry to use the first of his strength to crane his neck and pull her in for a tender kiss. Gone was the urgency to claim her, keep her for himself, leaving only the affection he hoped she felt every step of the way through the night. (Y/N) languidly followed his guidance, slotting her lips against his and soaking in the comedown.
"Harry?" she murmured, dragging her hands down the length of his back before settling on his waist.
"Hm?" he hummed, unwilling to pull away from her lips.
(Y/N) had to be the one to pull back, seeing as Harry was refusing to do so. She rolled her head back to lay sink into the pillows, displaying her neck for him to get distracted by. "Will you—Or, are you staying the night?" she peeped, Harry feeling her voice against his lips before he heard it.
A furrow pinched at his brow. He was planning on it, but if she had other plans, he wasn't going to impose and take up her bed. "Do y'want me to?"
A beat passed, only the disjointed rhythm of their breathing filling the silence.
Harry settled his palm on the line of her jaw, tugging her to match his gaze while he pet his thumb affectionately over the plane of her cheek. "Of course, 'm gonna stay. Told you I was gonna take care of you, right? This is part of that."
Something pinched at his heart realizing why she felt like she had to ask if he would stay. He didn't know the caliber of men she had been interested in in the past, but if they were anything like Andrew, he was sure they were more of the type to get what they want and slink out the first chance they had. But, what Harry wanted was her—all of her, not just the eager little thing she was between the sheets, but the clinging girl that wrapped herself around him after her orgasm, and the one that wanted him to read over her essay for class later. He wanted every bit of her.
"Thank you," she murmured, surging forward to kiss him only for Harry to turn his cheek.
"Don't thank me, 'kay? This isn't a chore, I want to be here with you," he reassured, dotting his lips against the corner of her mouth. He pulled away to find her looking at him with her melted irises, the starlight of her lust having drained to leave only the tender affection swimming through them. A genuine smile covered his features as he he drifted his thumb to the full of her lips, where she passed a kiss to the pad.
"Let's get cleaned up, and then we'll cuddle before bed. How does that sound?"
As Harry held her cheek in his palm, the most precious thing he's ever had the privilege of touching, he couldn't quell the flutter in his tummy at the thought of waking up to her in the morning.
"Harry, wake up."
A drawling call of his name pulled Harry an inch closer to the surface of consciousness, the details of his dream blurring in to a distance memory.
The singsong tone that called to him elongated the syllables of his name, turning it into a melody. He became absently aware of the pressure sitting across his thighs with feather-light touches dotting over his face in affectionate puffs. The voice called one more time, requesting him to wake up.
Harry finally relented, blinking his eyes open as he found himself in a pastel apartment that wasn't his with a girl sat in his lap that was entirely the opposite. (Y/N)'s face bloomed into a giddy smile at the sight of him cracking his eyes open, reaching towards the periwinkle plate she had balanced on the side table.
"You're awake! You sleep really hard, you know," she laughed, shifting off of his lap to sit beside him in the puffs of her comforter, "I made you breakfast."
A sleepy laugh came through the fatigued clog in Harry's throat, mimicking her action of sitting up against her pillows. He rubbed his fist over his eyes, looking to be rid of the film of sleep that coated them, "Morning, lovie. You made me breakfast?"
While it wasn't like he didn't appreciate the gesture, Harry was just a touch wary about her skills in the kitchen still.
Nonetheless, (Y/N) eagerly nodded her head, urging the china in his direction. "It's not much, but I wanted to do something special for you after last night."
A toasted bagel opened up into halves with butter on one side and what looked to be raspberry preserves on the other greeted him as he dipped his clearing gaze towards her offering. She was so cute—the cutest, sweetest thing he'd ever met in his life. She made him breakfast, the best way she knew how. How could he not adore her?
"Pretty girl, this looks amazing," he praised, voice raspy from sleep, "Didn't have to do anything special for me, though. Last night was just as good for me, remember?"
She shyly smiled at the implication of his words, watching as he took the plate from her and took the first bite of the buttered half. "I don't know," she started, absently picking at her bed spread, "I was just really happy when I woke up and you were still here. It just made everything real and all."
His heart chipped only for (Y/N) to worm her way through and fortify another area of his heart. Just another little reminder that it seemed she hadn't been treated right before him. A small smile colored his features, reaching his free hand towards her to wrap around her shoulders and tuck her fiercely into his chest. The plate of breakfast was settled on his lap, out of the way so the full of Harry's attention could be better spent on his girl.
"Of course, I stayed," he cooed, dropping his head to press a kiss to her temple before curating a path to the corner of her mouth. He pulled back just enough to nudge his nose against her's in a puppy's kiss, lashes tangling. "'S me and you, remember? 'M here as long as y'want me."
(Y/N) pulled away only to serve him a glimmering smile, features softened with her melting irises pouring into his own.
"Yeah. It's me and you, H."
merlot wine is a rich red wine, sweetened by notes of strawberry and raspberry and made smoky by the musk of tobacco. bottled romance.
ahhh!!!! this is it!! this part is....something GTHISFHOSHU but thank u all sm for reading this story w me and taking the time to read the series!! sorry for any mistakes u may find and please if u have any questions or requests or any thoughts please send me a message!! thank u !
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could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺
Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))
Word Count: 4k
Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.
He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.
It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.
The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.
He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.
A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.
“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”
Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.
“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.
Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.
It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”
The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.
He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.
Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.
Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.
Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”
Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.
“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”
Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.
She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.
“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.
“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.
“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.
There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”
“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.
“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.
Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.
Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.
Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”
“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.
Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.
HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x
“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.
It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.
Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.
Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.
HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.
“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.
Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?
It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.
He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.
HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.
Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?
Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.
She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.
It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.
Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.
“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”
Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.
“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.
Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”
“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?
He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”
Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”
“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.
“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.
“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.
“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.
Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”
Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.
His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.
Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.
When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.
When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.
He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.
Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!
I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.
Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?
Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.
Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.
Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.
She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.
Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.
He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.
You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.
Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.
Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!
Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.
He clicks on the thumbnail.
“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”
She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.
Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.
“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”
In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.
She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.
“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”
Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.
He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.
To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.
It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.
She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.
What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.
“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.
“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”
He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”
“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.
“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.
“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.
Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”
Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.
She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.
They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.
Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.
But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”
Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.
Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.
Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.
“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.
Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”
Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”
Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.
The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”
Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”
Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.
He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.
“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.
Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”
“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.
“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”
Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”
“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”
-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --
“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.
Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.
They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.
“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.
Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”
“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”
Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”
Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.
He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.
“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.
“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.
Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”
“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.
Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.
Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.
When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.
It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.
And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.
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Warnings : There’s mentions of nipple play? If it’s not your thing, don’t read! It’s most fluff! No smut.
“Baby? Are you awake?”
That’s what you woke up to. The sound of your boyfriends raspy morning voice, it was laced with sleep.. and was that lust? Turning your head to check the clock, you realize it’s merely three in the morning.
Three in the morning.
There’d better be an amazing reason as to why you’ve been woken up so early. Either the house needs to be on fire, or your boyfriend needs to be hospitalized; however judging from the lack of smoke as well as the sound of Harry’s voice, your judging neither are applicable in this case.
God, you're going to kill him.
“Harry, I swear to god.” you begin to mumble, but all you hear is a quick laugh, that is silenced almost immediately when he sees the glare you’re sending in his direction. Behind the humor he’s clearly finding in the situation, he looks.. scared? It’s only then that you hear the crack of a lightning strike, and you feel Harry jump.
You couldn’t help it. A snort escaped your mouth, and he quickly began to pout up at you. “It’s not funny”, he mumbles. You can’t help but smile at the absolute innocence that he is exuding, his cheeks flaming as the embarrassment begins to descend upon him. He is a grown man, one scared of lightning and thunderstorms.
“Thank God you’ve woken me up, this is going to be the highlight of my week.”, you tease and it’s then that he lets out a whine of “Heyyyyy” the word being elongated at the end and a frown bestowed upon his face.
It’s then you realize that he’s begun to play with the hem of your shirt and you understand immediately what he wants, giving him a nod of encouragement, one that he is only able see thanks to the light of the moon reflecting onto your face.
He quickly takes off your shirt, getting a full view of your breasts, and his eyes light up as though he’s a child on christmas morning. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow as though to ask, “Can I?” and you tell him to go ahead.
Immediately he takes hold of your right breast in his hand, beginning to knead it, and his mouth envelopes your nipple on the other. You let out a soft moan at the same time that Harry lets out a contented sigh.
Although you know this act won’t lead to anything but sleep, you find comfort in the intimate moments the two of you share, along with the childlike ones that happen every so often.
Falling asleep, Harry’s head lays on your chest as he continues to suck on your breasts, his body slotted between your legs, and your hands in his hair. It takes less than a few minutes for the both of you to get comfortable and ready to fall asleep, but right when you were drifting off another crack of lightning ensues, and Harry jumps; invoking a laugh to erupt from you.
He sucks on your breast harshly, and you let out a squeal, a smirk immediately crawling up his face. Smacking him lightly on the cheek, he’s forced to disconnect, looking up at you with a panic filled face when you say, “Your titty privileges have been revoked.” He immediately begins to argue, “What? No!”
“It’s what you get.”
He lets out a dissatisfied huff when you put your shirt back on, and you allow a bright smile to take over, only further irritating him.
“Sleep well baby.”
“Oh shut it.”
Heavy on the fluff today.
I mean.. sleep scenarios right?
Let me know what you think!
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Summary: [10.5k words] Harry’s high school relationshIp with Valencia is known to be rocky. Jealousy, lust and drama, they both find themselves obsessed with the attention. Harry obsessed with his sex life with Valencia can’t seem to get enough of her, even if it kills him.
!! WARNINGS: toxic relationship, cursing, violent scenes, mentions of arrest, police interrogation, brief mentions of abuse, pure filthy smut, brief mentions of mental health. IN NO WAY is this glamourising a toxic relationship, this is just fictional.
If there is one thing a year-long relationship with Harry Edward Styles has taught Valencia Athena Indigo, it’s that she will always love him no matter what he does. And as for Harry, he wouldn’t say the things he said if he loved her, he wouldn’t do the things he does, but he’s adamant that she is his forever.
Valencia only started taking an interest in Harry at around the start of year 10. Both of them were so young and immature They didn’t even know each other existed until Valencia joined the cheerleading team. Harry felt the wind knock out of his stomach when he caught her eye at the side of the football pitch, wearing that small little green cheerleading outfit. Both of them clicked instantly, and within two weeks, they were dating. And that’s what made them toxic.
Both barely knew each other. Valencia and Harry both didn’t take the time on their ‘dates’ to speak about their interests, their hobbies, what they like and dislike. Instead, most dates ended up in them fucking in a restaurant bathroom, or the backseat of his car or back in his room, which often had Valencia biting down on Harry’s fist to keep herself quiet.
As much as they were the prettiest couple in school and was such a gorgeous sight to stare at, it only took a month for the couple to be known as that couple. You know, the ones who argue in the corridors, have screaming matches in the middle of the school diner, one of them ending up punching someone or something and the other crying in a dark cleaner’s closet. Yeah, they were that couple.
The thing with the two is that they never seem to be able to break apart from each other, they’ll take a break for around a month and then get back together when their hormones are high, or their jealousy is bursting through the roof.
It’s two months away from leaving school and getting their A-Level results, and the last time Valencia even touched Harry was around a month ago. Both have shared their fair amount of eye-fucking, but Valencia is determined to keep his number blocked this time.
Both Valencia’s hands clutch onto the lunch tray as she slips onto the simple table where all of her friends are sitting, giving them a friendly smile as she does so.
All of them can’t help but stare at her. The way that lavender two-piece hugs her body perfectly. One thing no one can deny is that Valencia suits anything and can make anyone jealous of the way she rocks it. So that lavender cropped zip-up hoodie paired with that lavender mini skirt has everyone looking over at her.
“I know you’re trying to get Harry’s attention, but you’re giving me a boner,” Maya, her best friend, tells her, her tongue poking out to jokingly wrap around her straw seductively.
Maya and Valencia met in year 7. Unlike Valencia, Mya has known Harry for a long time. Their mothers are practically best friends. Maya and Harry had a close friendship from the ages of 0 to 11. As soon as they moved up to secondary school the both of them drifted. No bad blood between the both of them, they just grew up. When Harry found out that Maya was best friends with that fit cheerleader he caught eyes with, he soon started sucking her ass. I mean it worked, didn’t it?
Valencia giggles along with everyone else on the table, her shoulders shrugging and fingers wrapping around her fork. “Isn’t that the point?” She asks.
Maya continues the conversation with Valencia; her eyes set on the girl in front of her as the rest of the table create discussions. “Has he texted you?” Valencia shakes her head, pushing around the food on her plate with her fork; Maya is still staring into Valencia’s soul as she bites down on her lip. “I’m not saying this to upset you, but someone told me in math class that he fucked with Robyn last night,” Maya explains in a hushed tone and how much she regrets the words that just came out of her mouth should be illegal.
Valencia’s head snaps up. Why that sentence aggravates her, she does not know because they technically aren’t together, but the fact that he fucked with the one girl she does not like shakes something inside of her.
Maya utters Valencia’s name when she sees her head turn to him, eyes in a glare when she notices Robyn perched on his lap, hand caressing his cheek and lips centimetres apart. He does this on purpose. Why else would he be staring at her waiting for that reaction? Because as soon as Valencia’s eyes met his, a smirk grows on his face, and he turns back to Robyn, letting her lips melt into his own.
“Valencia, don’t.” It is way too late.
Valencia is already out of her seat when Maya says them few words and is strutting over to the table full of boys and Robyn. Harry catches her approaching, and he knows he’s won. He’s smug. No matter what, he’s always got her wrapped around his finger, but as soon as she approaches him, she walks straight past his seat, standing tall above his brother, who is sitting next to him and that had his face faltering.
“Ni, you going to that party tonight?” Typical Valencia, fuck with Harry’s head and flirt with his best mate.
Niall’s shocked, and the way Valencia perches up on the table, he can’t even catch Harry’s reaction to respond to her correctly. So, out of respect, he returns to her the way he wants to.
“Yeah, I am.” Valencia can see him physically gulp, and she moves to the left slightly when she can hear Harry leaning forward to try and communicate with his brother. “Why’d you ask?”
“Was just wondering.” Her freshly acrylic nails trail down his chest, tracing the curves of his abs. “Maybe we can have some fun tonight.” She tips her head to the side, biting back a smirk.
She barely lets Niall mutter out an answer before she’s hopping up from the table, taking a look at Harry, who's sat there clenching his jaw and pushing Robyn off his lap while Valencia waltzes away.
A little excited squeal leaves Valencia’s lips as she practically skips down the corridor, a bounce in her steps. People would think she just won one hundred pounds from the grin on her face.
That is until a tall figure, almost a foot taller than her, quickly comes looming behind her, hand slipping around her small wrist to pull her back. Before Valencia can even blink, she’s drawn into a small dark room by a random stranger. She would scream if she didn’t know that familiar heavy breath.
A hand comes up to the dangling light switch, and it pulls it down, nearly break it with so much built up force. “What the fuck are you doing?” Harry grits through his perfect teeth; that little diamond is shining in the dim light of the janitor’s closet.
“What? Can’t fuck the school’s worldie?”
“Wrong one, sweetheart.”
“Looks like you got the wrong bitch too.”
That’s when it clicks in Harry’s head. He has succeeded. This was his plan. To rile her up. To make her like this. “Jealous?”
Valencia scoffs. “Didn’t you drag me in here, you jealous asshole?” Her arms cross over her chest, and they push her boobs up, the cleavage peeking out of that cropped hoodie that is zipped up only halfway. And it fucks with Harry.
Eyes are wandering everywhere when Valencia notices Harry’s eyes on her chest. It’s only fair for Valencia to look at the way that navy blue long sleeve clings to his muscles. She remembers that one time when she rode his abs. He is in the heat of the moment. But it was so good. Or that one time he fucked her tits and he came all over her. Her face, her tits, her stomach.
“You missed me?” His breathing is heavy, and the words linger in the silent air, breaking the silence between the both of them.
“If I missed you, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Such a lie. And Harry knows it is a lie, but for some reason, it hurts his heart a little. She notices the bulge sticking out of the black jeans he is wearing, and god, his thighs are so thick.
Harry is quick to notice it, and he smirks. Of course, she misses him, but he knows the one thing she misses the most is the thing straining beneath all that clothing. “Eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
“Your eyes suck, I like this view better.”
His eyebrows rise, and he chuckles at her. “Speaking of suck.”
“Harry.” She gasps.
How can one person be so ridiculously horny? That is one talent Harry does have. That he can turn any moment into a sexual one, I guess that’s how he always wiggled his way out of the diabolical arguments they both had.
The fact that Valencia hesitates and lets the thought cross her mind, she might as well slip down onto her knees and make sure he remembers who can have him falling apart at the seams just from her warm mouth.
He chuckles in content, watching her fall down into the position that he loves so much. “That’s it. Know your place, princess.”
“Shut the fuck up, H, before I get up and leave you to jack off to the thought of me. Like always,” Valencia reminds him, a small blush covering his cheek at the memory of all the snap chats sent to her of him jerking off with the caption ‘thinking of you’.
“Yeah, well, I have Robyn to do that for me now.” Valencia freezes in her eager movements to unbuckle his Louis belt so that she can glare up at him. “I’m kidding.”
Even if he isn’t kidding, Valencia is still willing to show him how that girl could never be on the same level she is. She knows his body too well. It’s all studied into her brain like a test for an exam. That’s why when she pulls his cock out of his Calvin Klein boxers, he’s always gasping at the simple touch.
With the flick of her wrist, she already has him folding his arms over each other, biting onto the inside of his upper arm to try and silence his sounds—such a mess for her already.
Constant kitten licks against his leaking, flushed tip has him going insane. He knows he missed her, but he didn’t realise he missed her enough for that vein running along the side of his cock to throb.
One hand fondling his balls and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, she takes her sweet time to ease her mouth onto him. Her pretty little plush lips wrap around his tip and slowly push their way down to the halfway mark.
The pace begins to build. Her hand is pumping half of him, and her mouth is covering the other half, her neck already getting sore from bobbing up and down. And it’s the fact that she brings up her other hand to help her other one that fucks Harry over. He’s hiding his face in the crook of his elbow and blowing out heavy pants to help him ease the feeling of his orgasm already building. But, no luck.
Valencia knows he is trying his hardest to hold back, and that’s why she drops her hands and takes him further, hitting the back of her throat with a chorus of wet gags. And Harry is letting out the most pornographic whimper which goes straight to Valencia’s core.
It doesn’t surprise Valencia that the moment couldn’t be perfect when the loud ringing of the school bell blocked out the sounds of her gags and gargles of her deep throating the man she’s positive she is in love with. And she jumps at the sudden noise, her mouth quickly retracting back and her teeth scraping against him.
Harry lets out a hiss, and his hand comes down onto the back of her head, pushing her back down. “Carry on.” He tells her. And she does even if she’s going to be late for English class. Or if the cleaner is about to waltz in from his lunch break.
He doesn’t care as much as she does. They’ve always gotten themselves into trouble somehow. And they have a scripted alibi all written out in their head if they ever find themselves in the head teacher’s office.
But worry does take over her because it feels that much dirtier when they’re not together. And not in the right way either. She slips off him, and her innocent eyes flutter up to stare at him, making him wonder how she can look so angelic doing such a devilish thing. “How long does it take you to fucking cum?” She asks, hand eagerly pumping him and spending an extra few seconds working her thumb over his tip.
A few choked moans leave his lips, fingers entangled in her hair, pulling slightly when his over sensitive tip leaks a little bit of pre-cum. “It’s coming, just keep going.” He’s eager. His voice is breathless and needy, but so rough and ready to fuck your face. It sucks for him, knowing he can’t do it here, genuinely because Valencia is already drooling all over the pace as is. And the sounds she makes when he does so would just make him want to fuck her so good and so hard, but he hasn’t got the time.
Neither has she, so that’s why she reaches her spare hand down to press against his taint, just enough to have his thighs trembling and muscles tensing, sinful curse words being yelled into his arm, with a shout of: “Valencia, fuck! Open your mouth, baby.” But she already knew that was coming.
He’s spurting ribbons into her mouth, and for a moment, they both believed he wasn’t going to stop with the amount he is shooting into her hot, warm mouth. But he does, and she swallows every single drop.
“That’s my girl.” He breathes out when she sticks her tongue back out to show him she’s swallowed everything.
He tucks his cock back into his boxers, pulling and zipping up his pants, allowing her to buckle the belt while giving him short pecks and peppering kisses along his jaw. A tradition they always have.
They dip out of the cleaner’s closet as fast as they could, and he walks her to her English class in complete silence, the corridor still littered with a handful of students, which reassures her that she’s not too late.
She sends him a short and sweet kiss as a farewell as her hand reaches out for the door, but Harry stands there unsatisfied, not letting go of her hand and pulling her back. “The Robyn thing. It was just to make you jealous.”
Valencia can’t help but roll her eyes at that statement. “I know. So was the Niall thing, now I’ve got to–“
“I miss you.”
A heavy sigh leaves Valencia’s lips, and she looks down at their hands. They fit so perfectly together only if a pair of hands can work as a relationship. “You miss me sucking your dick.”
“I miss you sucking my dick. I miss you riding my dick. I miss your ass taking my d-“ Harry lists off, and she’s quick to cover his mouth with her other hand, looking around frantically to see if anyone heard. However, he takes her hand away, grabbing onto it to bring her closer. He lets go of her clammy palms to hold onto the small of her back, his neck craning down to look at her. “But, most of all, I miss you. Our cuddles, our kisses, our date nights, our traditions. We lost it, and that’s how we became…” He can’t find the words. Either he can’t fight them or saying they will hurt him.
“Yeah… Toxic…” He repeats, slow and carefully, like the word is forbidden to say.
She cups his face with her hands and brings him in for one more kiss, thumbs brushing over his light stubble. “We will talk about it tonight, get to class.” She tells him, and he finally let’s go, stepping back. “I love you.” A reminder for him as she pushes open the door to her class, her head turned back to watch him walk backward; eyes kept on her.
“I love you more.”
It’s when Valencia sits back in her seat, phone in hand and mine on him; that’s when she blows up on the inside. After just giving him an earth-shattering blowjob, he still somehow finds a way to be an asshole.
Harry Styles: don’t tell anyone about what we just did.
Valencia Indigo: are you kidding?
Harry bites his lip and sits down on the uncomfortable wooden bench of the changing rooms, wondering if he should even reply. He knows maybe he shouldn’t have said that, but with Niall nagging him about whereabouts, he whisked Valencia to. He had to text her.
Harry Styles: i’m sorry. No one can know.
Valencia scoffs loudly, shaking her head and dropping the phone back into her bag. Unbothered and uncaring. The last thing she wants to do is entertain his asshole-ness.
Harry, on the other hand, is letting the panic grow in his body when it hits the minute mark since she last read his message, and she still hasn’t replied.
Harry Styles: i didn’t mean it like that.
Of course, she ignores him. What else would he mean? Niall is his best friend, and he tells him everything. Valencia is bound to get angered. And she saves that anger all day, just to arrive at the party later that night looking like something sent straight from heaven.
Adrenaline is still running through her veins from not only the excitement that hit her when she tried on her outfit but the thrill of sneaking out of the house, climbing out her bedroom window, and climbing down the tree right outside. Damn, Harry would be proud.
But he’s not interested in that. He’s interested in the way she walks into this party, knowing everyone is looking at her with that pretty tight, white dress on with a cute cherry pattern, but she looks so sexy and so angelic at the same time.
Harry feels underdressed for a moment, but he realises how much Valencia loves that black vest that makes him look like a complete douchebag but has her thighs shaking. And that’s what triggers the sex eyes.
Thirty minutes, both of them staring at each other for the full thirty minutes. Eyes are burning into each other's souls. They can’t even hear what their friends are talking to them about, and it’s not because of the loud, blaring music, it’s because of their attention to each other as they take sips out of their red solo cups.
When Harry pulls some random chick closer to him, breaking the staring contest to push her hair back and give her the sex eyes that Valencia deserves. That triggers something in Valencia. It has her strutting over to the couch where Harry’s right-hand man is sitting to tower over him.
Niall swears he gets some form of PTSD. It’s déjà vu. He swallows back the dry, scratchy feeling stuck in his throat as he stares up at her, eyeing up the tall man sitting next to him, Kordell, part of the ‘asshole committee’ that both Harry and Niall are in. Well, that’s what Valencia calls them.
“I know your bestie can’t, but can you dance?” Just like that, Valencia has Niall startled and looking between a chuckling Kordell and a stubborn Valencia.
“Valencia, I can’t. You know my loyalty stands with–“
He can’t even finish his sentence, that he is near enough yelling to be heard over the music. “Can you dance?” Valencia interrupts Niall, eyes diverting to Kordell.
Of course, Kordell quickly perks up, smirking and jumping to his feet. “Yeah, I can.” His voice is slightly seductive because not many get the chance to dance with The Valencia Indigo. But, his ego deflates slightly when she scoffs with a roll of her eyes, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him to the dance floor.
“What dance would you like to do? Slow? I can do–“
She’s already bored of his talking, and she’s thinking about how much easier this would’ve been to just make Niall stand there and grind on him. But she gives Kordell a chance he is so eagerly waiting for. “Just shut up, Kordell, and follow my lead.” She flat out tells him.
Turning on her heel, she presses her back against his chest, begging to swivel her hips, feeling his hand on her middle.
Harry glances over her and catches her arm sneaking to wrap around his neck, them long acrylic nails reach to run along with the cluster of hair at the back of his head. Not to mention the way her head is tipped back, her mouth parted open, and her face so close to Kordell’s face, he can certainly feel her minty breath fanning over his skin.
The girl’s hand that is sliding beneath Harry’s shirt is invisible to him right now; he doesn’t even feel it. Until she’s blabbering some terrible drunken dirty talk into his ear and he’s noticing Valencia bend over to just completely throw it back, right up against Kordell’s crotch.
“Get off me,” Harry mumbles to the girl, but she doesn’t hear him. However, the way his chest is heaving and radiating waves of heat from anger.
How the hell did Kordell manage to talk her into doing that? Harry thinks to himself. Valencia doesn’t need a man to dance with; she dances by herself and owns the floor independently. His thoughts only rile him up more. Especially when he sees her giggle at him, hand wrapping around his wrist to drag him outside with her. Completely out of sight from Harry. And that’s what she wants. To see if he always needs his eyes on her. Of course, he does.
“I said get off me!” He repeats louder, ripping the girl’s hand off his chest to follow the two outside and see what they are doing. Too intrigued. Too angered. And I guess he can call himself intimidated. But he would never admit it.
He reaches to the side of the large house, which he doesn’t even know belongs to, but a party is a party, and he soon spots Valencia pressed up against the bricks of the house and Kordell trapping her in, both hands planted by her head and a smirk on his lips as he lets a flirty comment out to her. She only giggles to encourage his behaviour. And Harry swears to himself that Kordell isn’t even that funny.
He’s quick to swoop up next to them, pushing back on Kordell’s chest. Harsh enough to have him stumbling back, but gentle enough to not cause tension. “Come on dude, have some
Valencia smirks, knowing Harry wouldn’t hold up his walls for too long, but she has to drop her jaw in shock to act like she is enjoying her time with Kordell. “Harry, what the fuck?”
“Yeah, dude, you dumped her, she’s not yours anymore.” The fact that Kordell is speaking like Valencia is an object makes her eyes roll, but she goes along with what he’s saying.
“Kordell, I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. Go inside and reiterate.” Harry tells him.
“Styles, you really can’t let anyone else have some fun,” Kordell tells him.
At this point, one single person spotted the three out of a window and shouted to the whole party that Styles and Kordell were disagreeing, almost everyone inside ushers to the door. “Excuse me?” Harry asks, arms crossing over his chest, his muscles bulging as he does so.
Kordell scoffs, taking a step closer to Harry just to shove him playfully. But Harry isn’t feeling playful right now. “You stopped using her as your fuck toy, so let everyone else have a try,” Kordell speaks quietly, so quiet that no one, but Harry can hear how offensive his words are. “I mean, you can join us; she would love that, wouldn’t she?”
That flips a switch inside Harry; it has him lunging for him, fist swinging right for his jaw. The crowd gathers for a reason; he might as well give them a show.
Valencia never wanted it to go this far. She never assumed it would. She knows how Harry’s temper gets, but he usually keeps it inside of him, preferring not to use his fists; that’s why it shocked Valencia to see him scrambling to the ground with a fistful of Kordell’s shirt in his hands.
It doesn’t take long for Niall to push his way through the crowd to try and pull Harry away from Kordell, until Kordell somehow manages to get on top of Harry, finally being able to throw some punches in return.
Niall yelling over the crowds oo’s and ah’s breaks Valencia out of her frozen state, rushing over to give her help, even if she is completely helpless. She has nowhere near the muscle mass of either of the boys, and by the time she rushes over, Harry is hovering over Kordell, and she’s no match for him.
Niall is somehow able to jolt Harry back from Kordell’s body with Valencia trying her hardest to restrain his arms from swinging for him if he escapes Niall’s grasp. However, with Harry’s frailing arms everywhere, one of Niall’s hands slip, allow Harry to raise his arm, only to accidentally underestimate the proximity of his swing, his fist hitting Valencia’s face. It barely hurts her and she is positive; it was only a brush of his hand until she feels a slight sting. His shining diamond ring must’ve scraped against her skin. If Harry’s hands weren’t bloodied and numb, he would’ve realised what he had just done and pulled back straight away to apologise over 800 times.
It’s when the blue and red lights nearly blind everyone when people begin to flee, some scattering around the large yard to keep eyes on the fight still, and some of them rushing back into the house.
And in less than two hours, Valencia is surrounded by four walls, cameras on her, and two members of the police force in front of her.
“Miss Indigo, if you choose to be quiet, this is going to be a lot harder.” The female officer tells Valencia after spending the last ten minutes trying to push an answer out of her.
When the officers took Harry, Niall, and Kordell’s statements, they noticed that none of them lined up to the reason why there is a deep gash on Valencia’s cheek that is already bruising under all the dried blood.
They questioned a few teens at the party, and a few spilt about Valencia and Harry’s toxic relationship when asked about Valencia’s involvement. When that information was reported back to the station, the police there put two and two together, believing that Harry hit her. Which is true but in the wrong context.
“Valencia, as soon as you tell us what happened, we can get that nasty cut sorted out.” The female officer tells her.
Valencia sits back, silent, arms crossed, biting at her lip. “It doesn’t hurt.” She sounds like a little toddler who’s trying to prove that their fall off the swing didn’t affect them. But there’s a tremble in her voice and tears in her eyes due to complete fear.
Both the officers share a look between each other, the female officer hesitating before leaning forward slightly with sympathy in her eyes. “Valencia, we will do everything to protect you. Love can often blind the toxicity of a relationship–“
“What?” Valencia’s voice is soft, gentle, and confused until she realises what is happening. In her mind, she puts it together that some snitch at the party spilt and twisted it into Harry, hitting her purposely. “This has nothing to do with my love life? Do you think Harry did this?” She’s beginning to get angry, and they can see it. “He wouldn’t lay a finger on me in that way; he didn’t do this.”
“Miss Indigo… Harry has admitted to hurting you.”
On the other side of the station, Harry is on the phone with his lawyer, phone clenched in his hand as he stares up at the cameras, eyes switching between the lens and the two officers standing in the top two corners of the room.
“Mr Styles, you should’ve refused to talk until I was present. You had the right to. You had the right to decline an interview until I was there.” His ‘lawyer’ rants at him, and Harry can hear the sleep running through his voice.
Harry sighs. “You get less time if you plead guilty to a crime you did.” Harry is talking shit at this point. The alcohol is hitting him a little too late and at the wrong time. His head is everywhere. The room is spinning.
His lawyer scoffs. “Harry, you’re not going to serve time; they don’t have any evidence.”
“There’s a gash on her face, Andrew.”
At this point, Andrew wishes he never met Harry’s mum at that stupid college party over two decades ago; he wants to take it back when he said that he would always fight for Harry and Niall. “Which can’t be proven that it’s you!”
“The hundreds of kids at that place beg to differ.” Harry grits through his clenched teeth.
“You know what, Harry, just keep your big mouth shut until I get there.” Harry is about to reply until he hears Andrew start another sentence. “Do you know how disappointed your mum is going to be of you?”
There’s a moment of silence where Harry is chewing at his lip, and Andrew is waiting for a reply. It takes a while for Harry to pull an answer from his clouded brain, but he does. “How long are you going to be?” He asks after clearing his throat.
Andrew can’t help but let out a disappointed chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I love you like my own, Styles, think about what you say, you’re hurting yourself, you’re toxic.”
“Andy–“ Harry can’t even respond before Andrew hangs up, resulting in Harry letting out a frustrated sigh, slamming the phone down.
You’re toxic; you’re toxic, you’re toxic.
It’s floating around in his head along with faded flashbacks of all the pointless arguments he’s had with the girl he swears he’s in love with: the envy, the anger, the selfishness.
Before he knows it, his fist is bawled and is slamming into the solid phone box, yells, and curses, leaving his lips. He didn’t even know his knuckles could grow anymore numb, and he’s sure he’s broken every single bone in his right hand.
“Styles! I said stop, don’t make me cuff you!” The officer’s words are like white noise to him. He can only hear ringing, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s smashed away at the phone box that he’s broken the sound system or if his brain is drilling something into his ears.
Both officers quickly restrain him, cuffing his bloody hands, his whole body shaking and withering with loud sobs filling the room. “Please, fuck. Please let me see her! Please. I need to see her. I fucking love her.” His voice breaks with them final words, and his body is falling so limp and weak that the officers have to hold him up. “I love her so much.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her.” He whispers.
Valencia stands still, completely speechless, outside the station. Her mum is begging her to speak about something, to say a word to her, just to say something. But, she stands there, tears streaming down her face, the puddle of vomit next to her from where she cried so hard she had to throw up.
“Fine, don’t talk. But you’re pressing charges against that disgusting man.” Valencia’s mum told her, her finger waving around in her face.
This made Valencia’s eyes widen, and her head snap up. “No, we’re fucking not! He did nothing!”
“He admitted to it, Valencia. Stop trying to hide how vile this man is.”
“I love him, and he’s far from fucking vile!”
“This. Isn’t. Love.”
Mariana turns, so her back is facing her daughter, beginning to strut towards the car when she believes she’s ended the disagreement. “So, what’s love then? The relationship you claim to have with Dad. Am I supposed to use your pathetic excuse of a loving relationship as inspiration for my relationship? The last time you communicated was ten fucking years ago, Mum! Because he’s so glued to his phone speaking to women 20 years younger than him and using your money to bribe them into it.” Valencia’s voice is loud, and Mariana is thanking every god above right now that it’s 2 AM, and no one is on the streets to hear her. Valencia is just so broken; she’s sobbing so hard she’s surprised she can get all of that out without uttering or stumbling over her words.
“Valencia Athena Indigo, I don’t know how you–“
“Save it.” Valencia sniffles, wiping her tears on the back of her hand. “I know Harry isn’t right for me, but I am not pressing charges when he did nothing wrong,” Valencia demands.
All Mariana can do is sigh; she can’t do much since Valencia is 18 now, and she decides. “Fine… But he does not enter my household. If he does, I’m calling the police myself.” Mariana has to set rules, and that’s the only one she can think of on the spot. “Get in the car, Valencia.”
Harry sits on the family couch back at home at 5 in the morning with a tag around his foot and his mother and Andrew standing over him with a stern look on both their faces.
“I told you from the day I met that girl, Harry; she’s not right for you. Look at the mess you’re in. You think you’re going to go to college with suspected abuse on your record. You’re graduating in–“
“Mum, if I’m gonna be completely honest,” Harry rises from the couch, slapping both of his hands against his large thick thighs. “I’m pretty tired so if we can have this conversation in the morning–“
“See, if you were more like Niall, you would care more about the people who love you and talk!” Tina had no clue what came over at her at that moment, but she did not mean the words that came out of her mouth, even Andrew’s eyes went slightly wide.
Niall has been living at Harry’s ever since the death of his parents at the age of 14. He had the choice to go live with grandparents who live almost an hour away, but he picked Harry and his mum, Tina. His brother and his Mum.
Harry turns back, an amused and sarcastic scoff leaving his chapped lips. “You would love that, wouldn’t you? Another Niall? God knows what you would do if you had Harry as a son, right? Because he’s such a hard kid to deal with.” Harry tells her.
“H, I didn’t mean it like that–“
“Then how did you mean it, Mum? How did you fucking mean it? You wish I were like Niall, huh? So that means you wish I weren’t such a fucking disgrace, you wish I had a fucking clue what I want in life, you wish I couldn’t be so fucking toxic.” Harry explains to her; his eyes are so intense, she’s positive that they turn red at one point.
Tina shakes her head. “No, not at all. You’re not any of them things Harry, you are a fantastic person. I didn’t mean what I said–“
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“Harry Edward Styles, if you walk away right now, Valencia is not allowed to step foot in this house, and I promise that,” Tina warns him.
Harry shrugs. “Go ahead; her parents will probably put a restraining order on me anyway.”
“I’m doing this for her safety and your–“
“Wait; what?” Harry stops her before she can continue. “You think I hit her?” Silence. “Do you think I hit her too, Andy?”
Andrew shares a look with a worried and anxious Tina before turning back to Harry. “Harry, when medics inspected Valencia’s face it was clear that your ring cut her and the bruising is looking like it was formed from a fist, it’s too-–“
“Fuck this.” Harry laughs, sarcastically, turning for the door.
“Harry, you were ready to plead guilty before they even tried to charge you. They weren’t even thinking of charging––” Andrew reminds him, but it’s too late. Harry’s slamming the door and alerting Niall awake with the whole rumble of the house.
Harry makes sure his bedroom door is locked before he slams back on his bed, palms covering his face as he yells into his skin, drowning out the sound of his phone buzzing for the thousandth time.
But all he had to do was click the green button to hear the angelic voice of the girl he loves. He couldn’t face it though, so he let it ring out in his pocket.
“Hey, this is like the eighth voicemail I’ve left you.” She sniffles, her nasal passages blocked. “I don’t know why your dumbass told them you hurt me.” She lets out a little laugh at herself. “My mom is letting me drop the charges. Well, you already know, you’re not in a cell right now, I guess…” A deep sigh emits from the back of her throat. “I love you.” She has these moments of silence like she imagines him responding, what he would say back to her. “And I know you’re going to say you love me more, so I love you most.” She waits like he’s going to respond suddenly, but nothing happens, and the only thing she can do is hang up the call and wait longer.
Both of them didn’t talk over the weekend. They both locked themselves in their rooms, feeling sorry for themselves. Valencia posted her fair share of soft porn onto the private story she made just for him. But no luck. He wasn’t viewing nevermind, actually replying to her 100 texts or 50 calls. After around the 30th call, it started going straight to the answering machine. So she gave up.
That is until she sees him at approximately 3:52 PM. She can pick his car from a lineup of all the same models and make. There’s a noticeable scratch on the right side, and lights have a tendency of flickering when the engine is turned on.
To say that Valencia sprints to his car, it’s an understatement. Cheer practice starts in 8 minutes, and she only came out to her car to grab a scrunchie out of her glove compartment, but somehow she ends up tapping against the passenger window for him to unlock the door with a promising smile.
“Val, you’re gonna cause rumours.” He states when she slips into the passenger’s seat, her whole body facing him.
“More than there already is?” She asks, as much as it was a more so light-hearted joke, neither of them could laugh. “Are you not coming to practice?” Cheerleading and football practice always took place at the same time, and Harry is usually still out on the pitch ten minutes before practice to get a headstart. He shakes his head, though. “But there’s a game tonight?”
“Police.” He states, merely raising his leg to lift the cuff of his joggers and show off the tag wrapped around his ankle, which is so tight he swears he can’t feel his foot anymore. “Curfew tag, need to be back by 7, the game starts at 7.” He’s pulling his jogges back down and slamming his foot on the car floor with an embroidered sigh.
“Kinda shitty punishment for domestic abuse.” Valencia mumbles. That’s Valencia’s problem, not thinking before she speaks.
Of course, that has Harry turning in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry asks her, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together.
“I’m not saying you did that! I’m saying what if someone who–”
“Stop talking, Valencia.” He knows she has a terrible habit of not thinking before she speaks, so he lets her off and decides just to tell her to shut up, which surprisingly worked. “Did you tell them I did it purposely?”
She can see him swallow back the dryness in his throat, and it breaks her heart to think that he believes she would do that. “You did it by accident, G. You accidentally bruise me all the time.” Once again, not thinking before she speaks.
“Valencia.” He tips his head back with a grown. His elbow is propped up, leaning against the window trip as his hand rubs circles against his temple. “We do that in bed. Don’t tell that to people without context, actually don’t tell people that at all, maybe.” Harry explains to her, eyes springing back to her with the last word.
“Speaking of which,” She leans over the console, her lips attaching to his neck and her hand roaming across his clothed rock hard chest. “I miss you.”
He twitches against his Calvin Kleins that have become unbelievably tight in the last few moments. “Miss me or miss my cock?” He asks a slight chuckle leaving his lisp as his head tips to the side to give her more access.
“Both.” She tells him, tugging at the ties of his sweatpants and then leading her hand to tug at the waistband. “You missed a lot of soft nudes in my private story.” She tells him.
His eyebrows raise. “And how many people are in your private story?”
“Around 30.” Liar, but she loves the way Harry growls lowly at the statement, just as you squeeze his prominent tent, sticking out for attention. 3:55 PM. “Come pick me up after practice? We’ll be quick” She is getting needy. But how can she not be needy? It’s been like… forever, since she’s had his cock inside of her now she’s craving. So yes, she is implying car sex in the school parking lot.
The thing is her practice starts at 6, and the game starts at 7, not to mention Harry’s curfew. So ultimately, they would “I can’t. I’m cutting it fine, and my mom already doesn’t trust me coming to school.” Harry sighs, looking down at the time in his car. “I have time.” He tells her, brushing her hand off of him and gently pushing her back against the leather of his seats.
“You don’t have time to fuck me.”
“No, but I have time to finger you.” How casual his tone is for the dirty words he’s saying should be illegal. But Valencia couldn’t care less when his hand sneaks past the waistband of them little tiny shorts.
“Sad, you won’t be on the pitch tonight.” She breathes out, eyes staring into his.
He lets out a breathy chuckle, his cock throbbing once he feels how soaked she is through the lace of her panties that he just knows are matching the colour of her uniform because she’s extra like that, and he loves it. “You mean, you’re sad because I won’t fuck you in the changing rooms after the game.” He corrects her, just as he slips two of his large beefy fingers into her dripping wet core.
It’s unexpected for Valencia and her face contours immediately, because her small fingers will never compare to his. A gasp leaves her lips, and her eyes squeeze shut for a moment.
“Hey,” Harry’s other hand comes up to grab onto her chin, which has her eyes flickering open within a second. “I gotta be quick, and you’ve got to try and look normal.” He nods out to the people walking past his car to exit the school or get in their vehicle. Anyone could take a glance and see what’s going on, and it wouldn’t stop them from snapping a picture either. Valencia and Harry are a hot topic right now; people would kill to see that Harry fingered her in his car instead of going to practice.
It takes a moment for Harry to regain his knowledge; his fingers feel glued inside of her when he tries to remember how he usually does it, how he often has her falling apart. But he doesn’t have the time.
“How am I supposed to act normal when–“ When Harry glances at the time, he realises he only has four minutes to make her come, which has him curling up his fingers and begging to pump them in and out of her. “Oh my god, fuck!” She squeals, a tight grip on his forearm littered in tattoos.
Usually, Harry prefers to build up the pace, starting steady and switching between fast and slow just to get her that much worked up. However, when now his fingers are showing no mercy to her pretty little pussy, and he’s so tempted to rip them shorts off to see how gorgeous it looks and if it’s as beautiful as it sounds, he might just have to fuck her in the backseat.
Instead, Harry settles with pushing the shorts down to her knees and admiring her, and fuck does she look good. He’s going so hard that there are droplets of her wetness splattering everywhere, from her thighs to her seat and even reaching his wrist. And the sounds. The gushing sound along with the skin slapping and not to mention her whimpers.
Valencia is so fucked for this man. She’s already so high off of him like he’s some sort of crazy drug, and she already wants more. He’s never gone this fast or rough this quickly before, and it has her squirming, even when his spare hand comes forward to hold her thighs apart.
“Look at me.” His voice is full of lust and power. He knows he’s doing a good job when he has her near about doubling over and her thighs clenching together, trying to stop his hand. She looks at him. “I said, stay quiet, act normal.”
“You’re a fucking arsehole.” She tips her head back against the seat, arching her back up into his hand.
A smirk forms on his face when he hears the words. “Oh, I’m an arsehole?” He asks, his thumb coming up to connect with her clit.
She wishes she could control herself, but it’s too late. Her mouth is stuck open, and all the noises that she wants to make are getting stuck in the back of her scratchy throat. Not to mention the artwork she’s making on Harry’s arms just from her long manicured nails digging deep into his skin.
“I’m an arsehole? You’re the reason I’ve got this fucking tag around my ankle, and you’ve yet to fucking apologise.” He tells her, spitting it out through pure frustration, and he can’t even hear the wet sounds of her pussy gushing.
Her back is arched so high that the only part of her body that is touching the seat is her upper back. The orgasm that is bubbling in her lower stomach has her thighs trembling, eyes squeezing shut, and head tipping back. “Fuck, H, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Her voice squeaks, and she can’t hold back anymore.
She’s squirting everywhere, on the dashboard, on her uniform, on the seats, even reaching up this arm. She barely ever squirts, but the speed and roughness of his fingers surprised her entire body. He doesn’t stop either; he takes his fingers out just to press his palm against her over-sensitive pussy and move it from side to side, just to get the last of her juices out.
When she has nothing left to give, her hand wraps around his wrist tightly, and she utters for him to stop, which he finally does. “Holy fuck.” She eventually can drop back against the seat, even if there is a pool of her wetness below her and let out a deep sigh.
“You can leave now,” Harry utters at 3:59 PM.
“I said leave Valencia. Don’t want to spend this last minute you have making pointless conversation.” He’s not even looking at her, he’s looking out his window like there is something scenic to look at, but the only thing there is a ran down blue car.
Valencia stares at him for a moment like she’s waiting for him to tell her he’s joking, but of course, he doesn’t, and that’s what makes her let out a loud scoff, smoothing out her uniform like that’s somehow going to help the dampness of it. “I was wrong, Harry Styles, you are an arsehole, and I’m not fucking sorry, because I didn’t do shit.” She opens the door; one foot stepped out before something else comes to mind making her turn back, and this time he’s staring right at her. “Rot in fucking hell, Styles.”
It’s Maya that notices Valencia with the most angered look on her face, storming into the girls changing and heading over to the hand dryers. “Valencia, you okay?”
“No, I’m not.” She simply replies.
Maya watches her turn on the dryer and tries to dry them tiny shorts underneath it, but there is no luck in doing so with that poky dryer stuck to the wall. “What happened?” Maya asks, standing up properly from tying her shoes.
“Just some advice… NEVER date a Styles.”
Harry sulks in bed that evening as soon as he’s done with cleaning his car. But he can still smell her fruity scent lingering on his clothes, and even when he eats at the dinner table with his Mum and his sister, he can still taste her, because damn right he cleaned his fingers off with his tongue after she closed that door. He knows he has fucked up.
Once 7 PM hits, he watches the live stream of the school’s game from the school website, and fuck Valencia looks good.
The cheerleaders always come out first and do the school spirit dance, and the way the camera was angled it hit his girl perfectly. Her uniform is dried after that scandalous situation in his car, and he can tell that she has quickly redone her makeup. He vividly remembers the smudged mascara underneath her eyes, and the hot tears from her intense orgasm made stains in her face makeup.
And the game went well, even though he wasn’t watching half the time. When he caught a glimpse of Valencia, his eyes were on her to the point where he often lost track of the score.
The game quickly wraps up, and Harry’s finger is hovering over the power button on his computer, but he notices one thing, one thing that makes his blood boil. He doesn’t know how he sees from how far the camera is panned out, but he doesn’t know if he’s blessed or not so blessed that he can rewind the stream and watch it back. His eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
“Valencia, what was that about?” Maya asks when Valencia comes out of the school showers, a pink towel wrapped around her glowing body.
Valencia shrugs, and even if she acts unbothered, she can’t hide the smirk of pride on her face as she rubs lotion into her skin.
“Val, you can’t just do that. You know Harry still has feelings for you.”
“Maya, listen. Sometimes a boy does stupid shit that makes you mad, so you have to match that energy to make him mad.”
Maya shrugs on her jacket, eyes staring into her locker and back to her best friend.”I just think we all make mistakes.”
“Maya, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“It’s like the people who told the police Harry was abusing you, maybe it was a mistake,” Maya tells her, and the room is so silent that she can hear Valencia pulling on Harry’s old jersey over her shorts. “Maybe they were just looking out for you.” She adds on, a small sigh leaving her lips.
Valencia’s hand wraps around her locker door and her brain ticks with the words that she’s saying. And it clicks. “Oh my fucking god, did you tell the police.” And when Maya turns around completely quiet, Valencia flips. “What the actual fuck, Maya? Do you know what you’ve done? Harry could’ve done time for that.”
The volume and tone of Valencia’s voice scare her as much as the slam of Valencia’s locker. She’s never seen her so angry. “I did it because you looked happy with Kordell, and I thought it would keep Harry away!” Valencia tugs at her long locks, tears pricking at her eyes. “Val, I’m sorry.”
“You’re such a fucking bitch.” Valencia can’t help but let out a laugh, like an evil laugh you hear in the movies.
“See! This is why you’re selfish; I tried to help you.” Maya yells at her, but she’s lucky there’s a wooden bench in between the two because if it wasn’t, Maya is positive that Valencia’s hands would be around her neck.
“You could’ve gotten my boyfriend convicted!”
“And I would do it again!”
Her six words keep Valencia silent, and she’s racking her brain for some insult to say, But Maya is already out of the changing rooms, brushing shoulders with Harry as he enters in a rush. As much as Maya wanted to stop him, she got into her car and dialled three numbers.
But inside the locker rooms, Valencia believes she’s alone. That is until a figure is looming behind her when her head is in her locker, completely oblivious.
“You thought you were smart.” That voice. She can recognize it out of line up of 1000 males and not to mention the hand that comes up to push her hair over one shoulder. “Kissing Kordell like that and the end of the game.” He tuts, lips attacking her neck with need.
“Harry, your tag.” She warns him like he doesn’t already know, and her words sound so silent and weak because the only thing she can think about is his hard shaft pressing into her round perky ass.
“Better be quick there.”
It all happens within a blink of an eye; he spins her around with expertise and has her pressed against the locker next to her designated one. They both have never had a mire passionate, sloppy, and needy kiss. Even though nothing is being said, except incoherent mumbles and moans, Valencia is taking it as an apology, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to not press for one. Once she’s stripped from her tiny little shorts, his shirt is flying to the ground, not caring about the uncleanliness of the floor.
“How was cleaning your car?” She asks, taking her (his) own shirt off, leaving her completely naked on school property. This is so dirty, and she loves it.
He smirks, shaking his head as he looks down to his hands that are pulling his sweats and boxers down, just enough to release his aching shaft, that springs up and hits his naked abdomen. “Yeah, almost as difficult to handle as you.” He tells her, another quick kiss being placed on her lips as he hoists her up, long legs wrapping around his torso.
“Aren’t you the one who made me apologize for something I didn’t do?” Valencia asks, more so reminds him, but she can hardly concentrate on her own words when his leaking tip is running along her core, and she’s already soaking for him.
He grumbles something inaudible, surging into her with no warning and she’s never felt more full in her life, well at least she thinks that, but she thinks that every time. Her mouth drops open at the feeling, and she clings onto his muscular shoulders. “Fuck, Papi.”
That name gets to him so much, so much that he pulls out nearly all the way, only to slam back into her, forcing her back to thump against the cold metal lockers with a loud bang. He creates that rhythm, where he’s taking his sweet, sweet time easing his way out of her, only to slam back into her. He grunts each time, which goes straight to Valencia’s over sensitive cunt, and she already feels her orgasm building up.
“You know–” Valencia interrupts herself with a loud ‘oof’ a moan when he pushes his whole length into her again. “To say you wanted to be quick, you’re going slow.” She drags out the last word.
For some reason, hearing her talk aggravates him, so he shuts her up by giving her what she wants, but with no mercy. He’s nailing into her, and she’s squealing, whimpering and moaning, scratching her signature red marks against his muscled back. He’s going so fast her tits are bouncing at an ungodly speed, and he can’t stop ogling them as he growls, and grunts, hands gripping onto her thigs so tight he’s bound to leave prominent bruises.
“I hope you know how much I fucking hate you.” Valencia squeals, her voice so high pitched when she feels everything bubbling inside of her. “You’re possessive; you’re jealous and so fucking toxic.” She reels off, so breathless that she can’t even list off another thing because the list is that long.
“Valencia, baby, shut up.” His words are soft, but his voice is so raspy. He’s staring down at her gorgeous pussy, taking his cock so beautifully. It’s so tight and wet and ready, it has his cursing and panting, he can’t even focus on the bullshit she’s uttering to him.
And when he hoists her up when she begins to slip down, he hits a new angle that has her on cloud nine and screaming out, begging him not to stop and he’s not. He can feel her soaking his cock and how much she is pulsing and clenching around him has him rolling his eyes back tighter.
All it takes is her hand to sneak down to her swollen clit, and she’s squirting everywhere, and it wouldn’t be the first time today. She’s clenching so hard around him, that it has him panting, pulling out quickly. “Fuck Val, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He repeats, and his voice is croaky and cracking when he taps his cock against her clit, watching her juices erupt everywhere, and his cum shoots up to hit her chest, covering her in his cream. “If I see you anywhere near Kordell again, I will end him.” Both of them haven’t even recovered from their high yet, and he’s already riled up again.
And that is not an empty promise, and she knows it. However, it wouldn’t be Valencia if she didn’t say something smart, so of course, she lets out a breathless, “That’s a shame, cause Kordell could’ve fucked me better.”
He most definitely does not have the time to swiftly press your face against the bleaches and have your ass sticking up the air, but he does it anyway, and it takes seconds for his cock to disappear deep into her sticky, soaking, tight pussy.
“You’re such a fucking slut; you’re doing this fucking shit for my attention.” Harry grits through his clenched teeth, and his jaw is so tense that it’s starting to hurt his face muscles. “Is that you wanted, my attention?”
Valencia is gripping onto the wood so hard that she’s sure splinters are seeping into the skin of her palms. Tears are pricking at her eyes, and her mouth is stuck open with pornographic noises flying out.
One of Harry’s hands disappear into her hair, tugging at the silky locks, and one comes down on the right side of her ass, letting her yelp out at the feeling. “Answer me, fucking tell me, you fucking cum slut.”
His balls are slapping against her bundle of nerves that are way too sensitive for her own good, and it has her legs shaking and arms going weak, her whole body slipping. “I’m going to cum, fuck, Harry; I’m cumming!” She yells out.
Harry notices the way her body is starting to give out, and he smirks, using his hand that is entangled in her hair to pull her up, so her back hits against his chest. He completely pauses inside of her, and she’s whining, begging, pleading for him not to stop, but he’s using his spare hand to hold her at her middle to make sure both of them aren’t making a single move. It’s driving Valencia insane.
“I said, did you want my attention?” He repeats once more, hand coming down to her clit to give gentle slaps to it, knowing it’s going to drive her crazy.
Whimpers leave her lips as she nods frantically, just wanting to feel that orgasm that is right on the brink of exploding.”I wanted your attention, Papi, I wanted it so bad, please just–” She can’t even finish her sentence before she’s falling from the loosened grip on her hair. Her whole body is jutting forward with the harsh thrusts he is giving her, pounding into that wet little pussy he loves so much.
It’s barely a minute before she’s falling apart again, and this time she’s creaming around his cock, and he can’t remember the last time he saw that beautiful sight. Every time he pulls out, he notices his cock covered in her cum and the way she is moaning and whimpering with tears streaming down her face, he’s not far behind her, shooting his cum deep into her. His white seed coating her walls, and he stays deep in there for as long as he could until reality hits. Until he realises he broke his curfew. Until he realises that police are probably seconds away with a pair of comfy handcuffs waiting for him.
Until Valencia reminds him. “Baby,”
“Yeah?” He replies, breath still heavy and cock still snug inside of her, not wanting to escape the feeling.
“We’re so fucking toxic.”
“I know we are.”
252 notes · View notes
can’t stand to see you lonely: part 1
a/n: oh my god guys it’s finally here!😬 i really hope i didn’t hype myself up too much and that you guys actually like it. overall i just wanted to put out a story that revolved around christmas and this is what i came up with! so without me babbling too much, i hope you enjoy part 1 of my new story and as always any feedback/reblogs are very much appreciated.
and of course, thank you to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading this part for me and giving this rusty old writer the help i needed lol
word count: 17k
warnings: mentions of alcohol, some sexual tension, and an over consumption of starbucks holiday drinks.
fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist
“What floor?” Harry asks, eyes stuck on the many buttons in the elevator instead of seeing who had entered the small space with him. He can tell it’s a woman, and they smelt lovely.
“Six please,” her soft voice replies.
Harry looks over his shoulder in what he hopes is a smooth motion to get a quick peek at who was behind that sweet voice. Her eyes were squinting slightly as she smiles at him. She must be my new neighbour, he thinks as he hits the number six button and it lights up before the elevator begins to move. He steps back, standing in the opposite corner of the young woman. Harry assumes that she is maybe a few years younger than him, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was very pretty. He may even say she was stunning. She's all bundled up with a long coat and a thick scarf as he guesses she had just gone out for some shopping, judging by the few large white paper bags hanging off her arm.
“Did you just recently move in?” He questions, catching her eyes switching from gazing at the wall to his own instead.
She smiles again and nods, “yeah.”
“I thought I heard someone move in beside me,” he exclaims. He was certain that someone had moved in beside him. It caused him a bit of a headache hearing all the moving around. And then on top of that, his new neighbour had decided to get right to hammering in on the wall they shared. Little did he know, there was a determined and beautiful girl on the other side.
“Oh you’re my neighbour then?” She says, bringing Harry back from his memory of a few days ago.
“Harry,” he introduces himself, reaching a hand out into the space between them. She switches her Starbucks holiday cup into her other hand in order to shake his. Her hand is warm from holding the drink and it causes Harry's stomach to erupt with little bitty butterflies.
“Y/N,” she says in the same gentle voice as before. He wanted to hear her talk more. There was something about the soft tone of her voice, like he could listen to her speak into the late hours and early mornings and never once get tired of it. He blinks a few times and drops her hand at his intimate thought.
Harry didn't believe in love at first sight per say, but he was known to develop an infatuation of sorts very quickly. A crush as some would call it. Well, to be precise, Mitch teases him the most of his little crushes. There was that one time that Harry fumbled over his words over and over again when they had gone for dinner and had a rather attractive waitress, having asked for her number at the end of the night too. Mitch mocked him for days about it, asking if she had ever texted him back - she didn’t. And Harry didn’t even want to think about the time he spilled an entire blended margarita on his white vans when a certain handsome lifeguard had winked at him during their trip in LA last summer. Mitch still doesn’t let that incident go either.
The elevator doors open, and Harry gives her a smile and motions with a hand for her to walk out before he does. His mom must’ve raised him well, Y/N thinks at her new neighbours mannerisms. First holding the elevator for her, then offering to press the elevator button, and now letting her exit first. Suppose it was just minor things, but growing up in this lovely city that is New York meant she was used to the rudeness of people and sadly the simplest of gestures can make her heart beat just a bit faster in her chest.
“If you uh,” Harry pauses as Y/N stops at her front door but looks back at him as he speaks. Harry slows his steps to keep eye contact with her. “If you ever need anything, don’t feel shy to knock on my door.”
Y/N smiles again, nodding at his offer while she twists her key in the lock and opens her front door. Harry's walking backwards now, just a few steps to that same door he’s saying she can knock on. His eye contact is intense, but addicting, like every word she had to say to him mattered. His eyes are green, just green, nothing crazy and yet she found them very endearing. Would it be cliche of her to say she swore she saw them sparkle?
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” she says and before she can say anything else, she steps into her new apartment and shuts the door behind her.
Y/N finds herself standing there for a moment, remembering every word Harry had spoken to her as she slips out of her shoes. She then remembers his facial features while undoing her coat and hanging it up along with her scarf. The bit of facial hair he was sporting, how it seemed like it may have taken a while to grow so he kept it minimal. Or that little mole by his mouth, she even took note of that in their short time together. He had a cute nose too, she thinks. Harry takes up every inch of space in her mind for over an hour before she’s brought out of whatever dream state fog she was in. She lets out a deep breath and shakes her head a little before going about wrapping the presents she had bought earlier in the day while sipping her Christmas Starbucks drink, falling back in love with the holidays all over again.
“No, no, no, no,” Y/N groans as she twists and turns the knobs for her shower, and yet, nothing happens. Only a few drops fall to the tiled floor causing her to let out another string of curses. “This can not be happening,” she says.
But it was. Y/N’s hair was a mess, beyond greasy and a bit matted from her sleep last night. Not to mention she smelt like sweat from bringing up the box that held her new fake christmas tree this morning. She had been tempted to walk down the hall and knock on Harry's door, but she didn’t want to be annoying and fall into the stereotypes of the helpless young female living on her own for the first time. So instead she grabbed a cable knit sweater, tugged on her old dirty ugg boots, and went down in the elevator to meet with the Amazon delivery person. Little did she know that the box was way too tall for the elevator. So, she ended up bringing it up herself. All six flights of stairs, Y/N pulled and dragged that box up to her floor which caused her to break quite the sweat. Thankfully, it wasn’t so heavy, but she couldn’t help but think that she went through all of this just so she could get her new fake christmas tree up. Freaking fake! Not even a real one because apparently that wasn't allowed at her apartment building. Oh, how she was going to miss the smell of a fresh christmas tree. And oh, how she wanted to get rid of this disgusting smell of sweat she embodied now.
“Why me?” She winces, looking up at the ceiling and letting the glass door for her shower close as she gave up on the water magically appearing.
Is this the most appropriate time to not be shy and knock on Harry's door? Suddenly, her Apple watch vibrates, and she brings her arm up to see the reminder she had set before to tell her of the tight schedule she’s on for the day. With only 45 minutes left to get ready, she needed to get moving quickly. Y/N curses herself for wasting the past fifteen minutes on her phone, reading over her newest Instagram comments and aimlessly scrolling through her feed. So she tugs both sides of her purple robe that she had changed into anticipating a shower in her own home. Y/N pulls it tighter and ties the belt around her waist into a bow, and before she can give it a second thought, she’s out the door of her own apartment and starting down the hallway.
Harry didn’t know when he thought Y/N would eventually knock on his door. A part of Harry was hoping that she would have knocked sooner than a week later. But nonetheless, when there was a frantic knock on his door, he didn’t miss how his heart skips in his chest as he imagined Y/N standing on the other side. Peering through the peephole in his door he saw her standing there - in a bathrobe? Harry's brows pull together in confusion as he unlocks the door and heaves the door open.
“Is your water working?” She asks, her voice sounding as panicked as her knocking had been. But before Harry can answer she starts talking a million miles an minute. “Cause mine’s not, like not a single drop and I need to shower. So badly. And I know it’s probably super weird and rude of me to just bang on your door and ask to use your shower. Honestly, I can’t even believe I am but I am in such a hurry and I have the busiest day ahead of me with work and going to the-”
“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off abruptly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and blinks up at him. “You need to use my shower? Is that what you’re getting at?”
Harry is a bit thrown off, not once did he think she’d come knocking for this reason. He glances down the hall awkwardly. He hopes that that noisy neighbour of theirs across the hall wasn’t peeping into their conversation, or seeing Y/N in this bathrobe. Mr Matthers can be a bit of a creep, Harry thinks. At the thought he hears a creak come from behind the door that’s across the hall.
She nods, “I know it’s like super strange to ask but mine is not working and I don’t have time to figure it out.” When Harry looks back at her, he notices she’s staring down at the ground between them, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she’s realizing what she’s gotten herself into. Harry didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
“S’alright, really, come in,” Harry says while opening the door to his apartment wider.
Y/N gives him a smile of appreciation before stepping into his home. The layout of Harry’s apartment is really just the opposite of hers, but the interior design he’s gone with is a lot better.
He’s gone for the classic monochrome look with blacks, white and greys. But with pops of colour where it matters, like a blanket over the back of his large L-shaped couch that looked handmade. She wonders if a family member made it, quite liking the light blues and pinks blended together. He’s got the same hardwood flooring like her own apartment and the plain off white paint on the walls - but with a few very unique paintings hung up on them. There’s two tall shelves, full of vinyls and novels and some picture frames too, that are on either side of his large flat screen tv which he took the time to hook up on the wall. It’s got a TV show paused on the screen, in her quick glance she can’t tell what show he was watching before she knocked but it looked like a cooking show. The corners of her lips twitch up into a smile at the thought of Harry being into cooking or baking maybe. He’s got a matching chair to his couch in the living room too that looks like she could fall asleep in it within a second. Overall it simply seems more grown up than her apartment - more put together and clean, that’s for sure.
To give her some credit, she has just moved in while she’s sure Harry’s been here for a while. Harry steps away from the door after locking it again, taking a few steps in order to be in her line of sight. With an arm thrown up, finger pointing down the hall, he gives Y/N another smile. He can’t help it, she looks rather adorable in that purple bathrobe. Was that all she was wearing? He thought to himself. He clears his throat as his mind goes on to imagine what’s under that plush purple material she’s wearing.
“Bathroom’s the first on the left,” he states, “did you bring your own soap or anything?”
“Honestly, no, I just kind of ran out of my place in quite a hurry and didn’t think twice as I got the sudden nerve to come over here.”
“Well, lucky for you I care about hair care, so there’s some good shampoos and even a nice hair oil to put into your hair afterwards when it’s damp. It’s in a small clear bottle with a white and gold label, by my toothbrush,” Harry explains. Y/N nods and starts towards the bathroom. With each step further into Harry’s home, she realizes what exactly she’s done. She can’t believe it really - just asking a complete stranger to let her shower in their home. She could be a murderer for all Harry knew, and he just opened his home up so freely. She steps into the bathroom, switching on the lights and the fan, she shuts the door and sighs. Lifting her arm up her Apple watch lights up to show the time. She had twenty minutes tops to shower, that’s all.
The bathroom is clean, very clean actually. Y/N lets her gaze wander around the space for a moment. There’s matching hand towels and all his skin and hair care are placed neatly on the small counter space too. She assumes he’s a bit of a neat freak. Turning to the shower, she opens the glass door gently and instantly reaches for the silver knobs. As she turns them water falls from the showerhead above her.
“Thank God,” she whispers while looking up at the water.
Y/N adjusts it to her preferred temperature and then she works on untying the knot of her robe. Words can’t describe how grateful she is that it held together in front of Harry. Him seeing her in the robe and with her hair in the state it’s in is embarrassing enough. Honestly, she can’t believe she even knocked on his door in it, and without any clothes to change into afterwards too. Stupid, she thinks while opening the glass door once more and stepping into the shower.
As Harry had said, there’s many bottles littering the built in shelves of the shower. Her fingers lazily turn the bottles so the labels face her. They’re all scented lavender of some sorts, helping with curly hair and volume. Well that explains why his hair looks so lovely, Y/N thinks as she opens a bottle of shampoo and squeezes it till a good amount falls into her other hand. As she hums ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ she lathers up her hair and massages her scalp. Rinsing it out after and then doing the same with the conditioner. While she lets the conditioner sit in her hair she scans the few other bottles on the shelves for a body wash. She didn’t want to come out of the shower smelling like a pre-teen boy, but she also did not want to smell like sweat. Goats milk and lavender infused, Y/N reads the label of what looks to do a locally owned product. She can’t help but smile as she reaches for it and pours some into her hands before rubbing it over her skin. There’s something so sweet knowing that Harry supports local businesses. He really doesn’t seem like the guys that Y/N is used to.
Three sharp knocks on the door startle Y/N, bringing her out of her day dreams. She quickly brings her arms up to her chest, trying to save herself some modesty if Harry did walk in. Because of course she didn’t think to lock the door. God, what if Harry is a murderer? Y/N thinks. She doesn’t know him, he could very well walk in here with a large kitchen knife and stab her multiple times in the chest while the water begins to run red and she dies right here all because she thought his dimpled smile and green eyes were enduring. Didn’t she learn anything from the whole Ted Bundy thing? Hello, hot guy doesn’t immediately mean nice!
“Y/N?” Harry calls out from the other side of the door, raising his voice just slightly so she could hear it over the running water. She shakes her head from her ridiculous thought - no more Criminal Minds at night for her, she takes the quick mental note.
“Yes?” She responds.
“I just realized I didn’t give you a towel,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he closes his eyes and tries to not imagine his neighbour naked in his shower. Harry’s fist tightens around the towel as his mind ignores him and thinks of how the water is dripping down her skin.
“Oh, yeah,” she breathes out. Looking around the bathroom beyond the foggy glass. There weren't any towels that she could see. Maybe they were under the sink.
“So I uh, I grabbed one for you. I can just open the door really fast and drop it in, I wouldn’t look in I swear, I’d face the hallway and just reach through,” he clarifies, “wait, you locked the door didn’t you?”
“Actually, I didn’t,” Y/N says, “so yeah just drop it in, please and thank you,”
Harry nods, regardless of the fact Y/N can’t see him. He takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob and opening the door just a crack. The towel doesn’t quite fit through, so he opens it a bit more. His eyes are on the towel as he makes sure it gets into the bathroom. He notices the steam pillowing in the small space and just before he looks the other way, he sees Y/N’s purple bathrobe on the floor. Only her purple bathrobe. Harry swallows and drops the towel to the floor and quickly shuts the door again. Y/N jumps at the sudden slam of the door, her heart having been beating out of her chest as she stood under the warm stream of water and listened to Harry deliver the towel.
He spins around and walks away from the bathroom in a brisk walk, making it to his kitchen in record time. He takes a few breaths and blinks at the view from his kitchen window above the sink. It’s beginning to snow. Something tells him this will excite Y/N - just a feeling he has. He hardly knows the girl and he’s been conjuring up versions of her in his head these past seven days. He’d heard her play music through the walls Tuesday night, he recognized the artist after a few moments. Van Morrison, one of his favourites. What were the odds? He had thought. But then he quickly shut that thought down because many people liked Van Morrison, and just because his very cute neighbour liked the same music he did, that didn’t mean she was meant for him.
Then on Thursday in the middle of the day he had seen her running across the street from his apartment. One thing he loved about his apartment facing the front of the building is how he got to see people coming and going. That day it looked as though she was carrying a take out bag from his favourite restaurant. Again, what were the odds that she liked the same place? But again, he had another hard conversation with himself saying that it was a rather popular place in this area and lots of people liked to go there. Y/N was still a stranger to him. A naked and attractive stranger who was in his bathroom right now.
Harry breathes in deeply and leans both hands at either side of his sink as he watches the large snowflakes fall over New York City. He still couldn’t believe he lived here sometimes. Having grown up in a rather small town in Northern England, where the most exciting thing was the bakery he used to work in as a young teen or maybe the fun graffiti on some of the walls downtown, living in NYC always seemed a bit unrealistic to think of. But this was always a dream of his. To be in one of the biggest cities in the United States and doing what he loved the most.
“It’s snowing?” Y/N’s voice full of irritation catches Harry off guard. He turns around to see her standing in the threshold between his kitchen and living room. That purple robe, which would be making an appearance in his dreams he’s sure of, is back on her now clean body while the towel he had given her is wrapped around her hair atop of her head.
“You don’t like the snow?” Harry questions, both of his brows raised high at how off he was about his instinct of her loving the snow.
“No, I mean, yes I do,” she shakes her head slightly, “I just don't like driving it in. New York drivers already freaking suck and the moment snow starts falling it’s like they forget how to drive altogether.” Y/N explains, crossing her arms at her chest.
“It’s the same in London, nearly got into a few accidents in my early years of driving thanks to it,” Harry reveals. Y/N smiles at the knowledge about himself he had let slip, regardless of how irrelevant it is.
“Anyways,” she sighs, “thank you for letting me barge in here and use your shower.”
“It’s no problem, really,” Harry assures her.
“No seriously, you saved me a lot of trouble.”
Harry’s chest swells at her words, mirroring her smile as he stuffs his hands into the front pocket of his trousers and leans back against the edge of the counter. Y/N takes this time to look over Harry’s outfit. He’s got on a cream collared ribbed t-shirt, a beaded necklace adorning his neck, a pair of brown pants that flare out and nearly hid his white sock covered feet. He doesn't dress like the men Y/N sees day to day. It's different, kind of old school, but she likes it. Suits him, she thinks, despite the fact that she barely knows him.
“You’ve got to drive somewhere?” Harry questions, unsure if he’s prying.
“Yeah, JFK unfortunately,” she frowns.
“That’s going to be a nightmare,” Harry says.
“Thanks for the reminder, yeah,” Y/N teases him while fighting back the smile pulling at her mouth.
“Sorry, I just meant that it’s sort of a long drive and airport terminals are a pain, that's all.”
“I’m just bugging you. It most definitely is going to be a nightmare,” Y/N agrees with a chuckle, “and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” She adds while jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her own apartment. Harry nods and notices how her robe’s a bit looser than before as she drops her arms and it falls a few inches down her shoulder - exposing more of her soft looking skin. Harry has to look away and walk towards his front door with Y/N before his imagination gets the best of him.
Harry unlocks the door and holds it open for Y/N to walk out of his home. He liked having her in his space. Harry internally curses himself for yet another intimate thought about his neighbour fogs up his mind. Just as she steps over the threshold of his apartment, Y/N spins on her heels quickly and reaches up with both hands to grab the twisted up towel around her hair. Harry nearly comes undone right then and there. The sight of her wet hair falling down effortlessly around her freshly washed face causes Harry’s mouth to feel dry suddenly. But as she makes the move to reach up, pulling it off of her head, and then holding out the towel in front of her, all of this causes her robe to fall even more off of her shoulders. Now both of her shoulders were fully exposed for him to see. Which Y/N notices right away and blushes, rushing to try and readjust herself, then only holding the towel with one hand while she bares her other arm over her chest to keep the robe from falling open completely.
“Nearly stole your towel,” Y/N breathes out.
She’s distracted by how her robe is slipping apart and how Harry’s eyes are falling with it. Harry clears his throat and takes the towel from her, giving her a chance to fix her robe, and he leans against his door for support as his head spins from the scene he has played out in his head. Her robe falling apart, seeing the swell of her breasts, how her nipples must look. He imagines they’re hard from the chill in the hallway, pebbling into little buds. Then he’s imagining how he’d pull her back into his apartment, kissing and touching all over her skin till she’s left breathless and begging for more.
“Thanks,” Harry says and drops his arm to hold the towel down at his side.
“I owe you one,” Y/N states, “for letting me use the shower,” she adds. She’s not sure what else he would think she’s talking about, but she just felt the need to clarify. And she really needed to get back to her own apartment and finish getting ready. “See you around, Harry,” she says with a smile before walking away and hurrying into her home.
Harry thinks of how he should've wished her a safe flight, or even said goodbye. But instead he heard her door shut and followed suit by closing his own. Harry walks into his living room - discarding the towel on the back of his large arm chair, before moving his acoustic guitar from where it was laying on his couch and taking a seat. He then reaches for his cell phone that was left on the coffee table. Opening his contact, he finds the building's maintenance number and calls them.
“Hey Phil, how are you doing?... Good, I’m good yeah, uh, I’m just calling because the water in 602 isn’t working...Yeah Y/N, she actually had to leave in a bit of a rush, so I just wanted to make sure someone got in there as soon as possible to check it out,” Harry explains the situation to the building’s head maintenance man. “I’m not entirely sure when she’ll be back home, maybe you could give her a quick call and double check... Just being a friendly neighbour, Phil… Thanks Phil, have a good day and say hi to Georgia and the kids for me… Bye.”
Harry hangs up the phone and sets it back down onto the table, looking at the open notebook beside it. He hadn’t written anything all morning. Just had a few good cords stuck in his head. Harry picks up the guitar once more and plays the cords.
“Tangled wet hair, soft silk skin, looking so good it should be a sin,” Harry sings softly. It’s not his best and it’s not even that good, if he’s honest with himself. But it seems that Y/N sparked some inspiration inside of him. He grabs his pen, and starts scribbling down the words that now flow through his mind. Finishing with writing ‘Plush Purple Robe’ in capital letters before dropping the pen and going back to strumming the guitar.
He wrote nearly an entire song, thanks to how Y/N looked in that damn bathrobe standing in his apartment, and he just knew this would result in some teasing words from his friends when he brought it into their studio session next week.
Y/N was tired and her third Starbucks of the day wasn’t helping her out at all. She brings a hand up to cover yet another yawn that escapes her. Her eyes feel heavy, drooping as she blinks slowly a few times at her screen. She feels as though she might doze off if it wasn’t for the loud bang of the mail cart smacking against the elevator doors signalling it’s arrival for the day. It jolts her upright once again and she takes another big gulp of coffee, and sends a prayer up above, before she begins clicking away again at her laptop trying to finalize her schedule for the upcoming month of December.
Fittings, photoshoots, buyers meetings, and more fittings, there was rarely any free time in the first two weeks of the month. But thankfully her boss isn’t a complete Grinch and gave her minimal work during the last two weeks. Plus Y/N really did love her job. She lived for the magic world of fashion. The way her bustling office just meant that the designer’s creations were coming to life as A list celebrities and New York's elite fell in love with the pieces she’s gone through lengths to get for them.
She also loved Christmas just as much, if not more, as her job. Even thinking about everything she was looking forward to this holiday season made her feel all giddy inside now. Growing up in the city meant she knew the thrill of skating in Central Park and seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree being lit up. Her smile was as bright as the lights. She loved going to the annual Christmas markets that were held; walking around with hot chocolate in her hands as she browsed the many homemade soaps and ornaments, and even clothing too. Y/N even enjoyed shopping at the Macy’s down the street and gasping at their holiday displays, and found herself buying a few too many decorations for her home while there. Over the past few days - with any free time she had off work - she had gone into full blown decorating mode in her apartment. It was like Santa’s village and it filled her with so much joy as she set everything into its rightful place in her new home, smiling from ear to ear at the twinkling lights and tinsel lining the perimeter of every room.
“Earth to Y/N,” her co-worker, Sammy, sings while leaning back in his desk chair to try and make eye contact with her.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, zoning back into reality and turning her own chair away from her desk that was up against the large floor to ceiling windows.
“Daydreaming about that hot new neighbour of yours?” Sammy teases her with a smug look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.
“No, I was not,” she says, “I’m regretting telling you about him already,” she adds. Sammy returns the eye roll.
“There’s no shame in having some eye candy as a neighbour you know,”
“Yeah there is when-“
“Y/N!” Her name suddenly being yelled across the room cuts her sentence off and makes Sammy and herself look over to where it came from. They both see their boss, Amanda, standing in the doorway of her office with both hands up in the air and a look of annoyance across her face. Y/N’s watch vibrates just on time to remind her of her meeting with Amanda. She’s always at least five minutes early; suppose daydreaming about the holidays - not her hot new neighbour - had put her behind schedule a bit.
“Better not keep her waiting,” Sammy says as he rolls his chair back over to his own desk while Y/N closes her laptop, taking it and a notebook with her quickly before slipping her feet back into her black heels. She always took them off when she sat at her desk to give her poor feet a break. As she broke into a speed walk across the office space, nearly avoiding the mail cart, she internally went over what today's meeting entailed.
“Sorry Amanda,” Y/N apologizes as she steps into the office, closing the glass door behind her quietly.
“It’s alright, you’re rarely even a few minutes behind that schedule of yours, so I was more surprised than anything,” Amanda states as she smooths her dress out and takes a seat at her desk. Y/N takes a seat in the chair across her desk, setting her laptop on her lap and then the notebook on top of it while she keeps her favourite pen in hand. It had a cheesy Christmas sweater snowflake pattern on it, which Y/N had bought a whole set for her and Sammy at Target last week.
“I wanted to quickly talk about your time with Miss Woods a couple days ago,” Amanda says, referring to one of the clients from North Carolina that had visited recently. “She said you showed her great hospitality and were a true New Yorker in her eyes, her words exactly.” Amanda gives Y/N a proud smile. “So, great job. She ended up purchasing those Gucci purses we had bought in hopes she’d like them even though she didn't ask for them. All thanks to you putting her in such a good mood, really.”
“Well she was a blast to be around, age really didn't slow her down,” Y/N and Amanda share a laugh. “She turned up my radio every time we got in my car, ordered doubles at dinner and brunch, and even talked about boy issues with me. It was a great time,” Y/N explains while adjusting herself in her seat and crossing a leg over the other casually.
“I think it’s your energy. Your love for this city can be infectious sometimes Y/N,” Amanda says. Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile at her words, they made her feel warm inside.
“Thank you,” she says softly with a nod.
“Now, onto what’s happening over this next week, let’s see how our schedules look,” Amanda starts as she opens her large planner than was always either on her desk or brought home in her large Louis Vuitton purse.
“I got an email from the lovely Mrs. Archibald this morning,” Y/N states. Amanda shakes her head as her face twists up at the mention of one of their bigger clients who happens to be married to the richest man in New York City. It’s just too bad she’s a real bitch sometimes because her attitude could make doing their job a bit harder at times. But Amanda and Y/N loved a challenge, and Mrs Archibald was just that. “She has a last minute dinner party tomorrow and she needs the newest item from Gucci that we can find immediately,” Y/N explains.
“Shit, our new stuff from Gucci doesn’t come in till next Monday,” Amanda curses, eyes roaming around her desk as if the answer to her problem would pop up somewhere.
“I know, which is why I went ahead and called Greg at the store on Fifth and Fiftieth, he said they just got a handful of exclusive holiday pieces early and would gladly have one of us pick a couple items up for Mrs Archibald,” Y/N says. Amanda’s sour look fades instantly and is replaced with a wide smile.
“What would I do without you, honestly!” Amanda exclaims. “Head over to Gucci after lunch today, and then we’ll get Mrs Archibald in first thing tomorrow.”
“Will do,” Y/N says while jotting down her after lunch plans onto a blank page in her notebook.
“How’s your influencer work going for you?” Amanda asks, her eyes on her planner in front of her instead.
“It’s been good, getting closer to five hundred thousand every day. I think the holidays will push me over the mark soon enough,” Y/N states.
“Great, make sure you’re getting close up shots of the dresses Greg shows you. Tease the people of what an exclusive holiday gown looks like,” Amanda suggests. Y/N smiles and jots down the note.
Having an audience was never the goal for Y/N. In fact, she thought of suspending her Instagram account all together once she got the promotion at work. She was worried that it would cause a conflict of interest, but Amanda and the rest of the team saw it as a plus. Having so many people follow Y/N’s life, being interested in what she’s interested in, wanting to get their hands on what she had, all lead to good publicity for the company. It even got them a few A list celebrities because of her account as they saw the company’s name in her bio, which led to contacting the company about setting some fittings up.
And with that set up, they settle into the rest of their itinerary for the week, making note of who needed to be involved with what, and who would be coming into their offices. Jennifer freaking Aniston was scheduled for a fitting this Friday and Y/N was praying she made it back from picking up an order of Louis Vuitton scarfs in time to see her in her custom grown that their team's seamstresses had been working tirelessly on with Prada’s team.
By the end of her and Amanda’s meeting, it was time for lunch. Sammy was waiting by her desk with his black Gucci backpack in hand that Y/N was sure held a Kardashian sized salad. Y/N was glad she meal-prepped teriyaki chicken and rice, so she didn’t have to eat yet another salad seeing as Sammy had gotten her into the over sized salad eating last month; she’s had enough of it.
“I’ve gotta head over to Gucci on Fifth Ave after,” Y/N states with a smile as her and Sammy walk into the conference room that they used for lunch sometimes, shielding themselves away from work a bit - even if the walls were glass and they could still see everyone working around them.
“Lucky bitch,” Sammy grumbles, “Greg always hooks you up with some free pieces when you go there, I swear.”
“Hey it’s only been a few items, nothing crazy,” Y/N defends herself before taking a bite of her lunch.
“Oh I’m sorry, two rings and a pair of tights are nothing crazy? Every other influencer would kill someone for those tights. Firstly, they’re so cute. And secondly, those rings cost my monthly rent.”
“I’m not complaining about any work perks. Maybe you could come with and get to know Greg a bit and get your own ring or two?”
Sammy chews his mouth full of salad, “no thanks, it’s so freaking cold out there. I’ll stay inside where it’s warm,” he says.
“Then don’t complain when I get another pair of tights and you don’t,” Y/N scowls playfully.
“I’d look so much better in those tights, you can’t even deny it,” Sammy says and pokes his fork at Y/N. She raises her hands up in surrender.
“Oh I wouldn’t dare to deny it, ever,” she smiles. They eat a few bites in silence. Y/N starts to feel a bit more energized by the protein she’s eating, thankfully. She now had a long journey to the Gucci store and back as well as a ton of emails to filter through too - which she’s sure will follow her home till the late hours of the night.
“What are you planning to wear for the Christmas office party?” Sammy chimes in, his eyes still on his phone.
“I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs and brings up her Pinterest app on her phone. “I found this outfit and am dying over it every day but I really should just find something in my closet and restyle it, I'm getting more broke by the day.”
“Blame your excessive christmas shopping habits,” Sammy deadpans while glancing at her phone screen.
“I’m aware of why I'm broke, thank you,” she deadpans back, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe Greg will have it in his heart to lend me a special piece for the party,” Y/N taunts Sammy with a smile on her face.
“Shut up,” he groans. Y/N laughs and is just about to shut her phone screen off when a phone call comes through from her apartment building maintenance.
“Hello?” She answers. “Hi Phil… Oh that’s awesome news thank you so much for getting it fixed so soon… Yes, I’m glad Harry called in about it right away too…” Y/N notices how her friend's eyebrows fly up at the mention of Harry’s name. “Lovely, thanks again Phil… Have a great day… Bye,” she hangs up the phone and sets it on the table in front of her.
“What did Harry do now?” Sammy questions without a second to spare. Y/N rolls her eyes, but can’t stop herself as she smiles.
“He called in about the water in my apartment like right after I made a mad dash out of his place to go pick up Mrs Woods in time. I hadn't even thought of calling about it and then I got a call on my way to the airport from the head maintenance guy saying Harry told him about it and asked for verbal permission to enter my apartment while I was out,” Y/N explains to him. She was still shocked by Harry’s kindness. Not only did he offer his shower to her, but he then got hers check out that same day. She probably wouldn't have called about it till the next day, if she was lucky to have any free time to stop by her house between entertaining Mrs Woods.
“What a neighbourly thing to do,” Sammy says smugly.
“Shut up, he’s just a nice guy.”
“Mhmm,” Sammy hums while stabbing his salad again for another bite.
The two of them continue to enjoy their lunch break and catch up on what’s been going on in the office. Their fellow associate Kate was trying to sleep with the mail cart boy. He seems freshly twenty one, if that. Just seven years younger than Kate, but she’s a well known cougar - it’s been a thing for, like, two years now. And Julianne was sick again, for the third time in two months. That was the extent of the office drama, sadly. Y/N packs up her bag with her left over lunch, notebook, and laptop before heading back to her desk with Sammy to get her coat and bundle up to brace the cold weather.
At least it wasn’t snowing.
The snow is coming down like a blizzard, making it hard for Harry to see in front of him. It was a colder day, his weather app had called for cloudy skies and a chance of some light flurries - but that all changed in a split second and had Harry racing home from the coffee shop a few blocks away. He’s just praying his notebook full of new song ideas, based off his people watching this afternoon that’s now in his tote bag, doesn't get wet in the short trip he has to walk. Just as he’s about to turn left down the last block till his building, he sees a young woman struggling to walk along the sidewalk in her heels just in front of him. She’s carrying a large beige garment bag, having it folded over her arm as she tries to maneuver around the busy sidewalk and everyone is rushing to get out of the storm. Harry’s just behind her now, that’s when he recognizes the jacket and scarf.
“Y/N?” Harry says, trying to not startle her. But of course, as Y/N turns around to look behind her at whoever had just called out her name on the busy streets of New York, she slips.
“Oh my god!” She squeals, trying to keep the garment bag up so it doesn’t damage the dresses inside, but that means she doesn’t have any hands to throw out to catch herself. Harry sees her begin to fall and reaches out without hesitation. “The bag,” she says, trying to get Harry’s attention to saving the garment bag rather than her. But of course he manages to wrap his arms under hers and hold her upright, standing straight to get her back on her feet once more.
“Shit, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Harry says.
Y/N squints at him through the thick snowflakes, he’s standing so close though that she doesn’t have troubles staring into his enchanting eyes. She smiles, adjusting the dresses and her bag before motioning to their apartment building only a couple blocks away. “Let’s get out of this snow storm,” she suggests.
“Right,” Harry agrees and lets her start the walk - that way he can stick close behind in case those death heels of hers cause her to slip again.
Y/N regrets her decision of wearing heels so much right now. She’s sure her cheeks are still red from embarrassment of nearly falling on her ass in front of so many people. Harry’s seen in her purple bathrobe, which is already embarrassing, but falling in heels in this snow storm would’ve only added to her list of making a fool of herself in front of him.
When she arrived at Gucci it was just cloudy, but then after nearly two hours inside the store - mostly chatting with Greg and his associates, she walked outside into the blizzard. Her office was too far of a walk, she knew getting a cab or an Uber during the storm would just be a nightmare and she didn’t want to wait around. There was no way she was going to risk taking the subway while carrying the garment bag that said Gucci right on it and have some lowlife steal thousands of dollars of designer clothes from her. So, she went with the most obvious option of getting these pieces out of the snow storm and headed to her apartment building that was only a few blocks away, thankfully.
“Thanks for saving me back there,” Y/N says with a sigh as Harry uses his key to let them into the building. They both brush the snow off themselves as they walk across the lobby and to the elevator. “I would've been dead if this fell into a puddle or something,” she states while lifting the garment bag.
“Does that say Gucci?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at the label on the bag.
“Yeah, I just had to pick up a few things for work,” Y/N explains vaguely. Harry has followed Gucci on Instagram for years, he loves their pieces and finds what they make to be so wonderful. He wishes he had the money to spend on a shopping trip there and yet here is his neighbour - who he may or may not be crushing on - with a large garment bag with Gucci items inside. “I can’t even imagine what Mrs Archibald would've done if I messed these up, god she'd have a fit,” Y/N says with a chuckle, looking at the floors lighting up as the elevator moved.
“Your boss?” Harry questions.
“No, a client, super rich and super bitchy,” Y/N answers, emphasizing both times she says super to really get her point across. She moves the garment bag from one arm to the other, leaning back against the elevator wall.
“Client? What kind of work do you do?” Harry tries to ask casually, not trying to seem creepy or invading in any way.
Y/N smiles, “I’m a part of the, oh so lovely, fashion industry.”
“You don’t like it?” Harry questions, eyebrows furrowed together.
“No, I do,” she corrects him.
The elevator opens then, Harry motions for Y/N to exit first as he had before. She smiles and walks down the hall to her apartment. Just as she fishes her keys from her coat pocket she turns back and looks at Harry when he walks past her. “I owe you, again, for saving my ass, literally from falling,” she says. Harry stops walking and looks at her, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. “And for calling the maintenance guy for the issues with my water,” she adds. Seems Phil spilled the beans, Harry thinks.
“I um, I wasn’t sure how long your trip was, and I just thought it’d be the nice thing to do by making sure they could get it fixed as soon as they could,” Harry explains.
“I actually didn’t go on a trip, I just had to pick someone up from the airport. But regardless it was very nice to know you thought of it for me. So thank you, I owe you, Harry,” she says again, giving him yet another one of her dreamy smiles. Harry’s heart did a little pitter patter in his chest as he looked over her face, taking in how her wispy hairs were wet from the snow that had melted on her head and how her eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim lighting of the hallway. But her lips, he’s been imagining those lips for two days now. Along with that purple bathrobe being on his floor again - his bedroom instead of the bathroom though.
“How about dinner?” Harry blurts out. Y/N had turned back to her door, having it unlocked and open as he had fallen into one of his daydreams about her. She pauses mid step and looks back at where he had stood still, her eyebrows are furrowed together as she thinks he misheard him. Oh shit, abort! Abort! Backtrack and say nevermind before she flat out rejects you, Harry thinks while he waits for her response.
“I, uh, I,” Y/N stops her stuttering and closing her eyes for a moment. She lets out a sigh and opens her eyes again to meet his nervous stare. “I have to hang this up, and change these shoes first,” she says.
“Of course,” Harry nods.
Y/N ponders over it for a moment before coming to the realization that the weather outside was truly frightful and they shouldn’t go out anywhere. “Honestly we shouldn’t go back out there. What if I just ordered something in and you came over? You like pizza?”
“Love it,” Harry smiles. Y/N nods and opens her door further, stepping in to survey the state of her apartment. It’s not messy, thank God. She had time this morning to put away her clean laundry that had taken up her couch over the past few days. There’s a couple hoodies draped over the back of the couch though, a half full glass of water on the coffee table and her kitchen has a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink that she hadn’t gotten to putting in the dishwasher yet. She quickly bends down to put away the few pairs of shoes that were kicked off in whatever direction they went, and turns on the two light switches by the door to light up her living room and hallway.
“Well, come on in,” she says as she turns back to Harry. He smiles as she lets out a deep breath and opens her front door for him.
He should’ve guessed that it would look like Santa had thrown up in her apartment. It was traditional, which Harry loved opposed to the new all white or all gold themes some people went with, but there was a lot of it. A red and green checkered throw blanket over the back of her grey couch, a decent sized tree filled with lights and tinsel and ornaments that all matched, a family of snowmen in one corner of her living room, and many little vintage looking nicknacks along her tv stand, and few shelves around the space. Not to mention the priceless looking tiny christmas village that was set up on top of the desk by her front door, fake snow laid on top to really pull it all together. So much Christmas, and he was only looking in one room. He imagined this festive feeling went throughout her entire home.
“It kind of seems like a lot whenever someone new sees all of my Christmas crap,” Y/N says, breaking Harry’s stare away from her living room and back to her now. She had hung up the Gucci bag on the closet door to her left, and had slipped out of her shoes and was now undoing the buttons of her coat. Her eyes are on the decorations around them though, looking unsure as she takes it all in.
“It’s lovely, honestly, not crap at all,” Harry assures her. Y/N turns back to look at him and mirrors his smile.
“I just have a big soft spot for the holidays, I can’t help myself from buying four Christmas themed throw pillows if they make me feel all warm inside,” she explains, motioning to the couch that did in fact have four pillows on it.
“If it makes you happy, you don’t have to have any reason for buying ‘em.”
“I suppose so,” Y/N hums, finally taking off her coat and hanging it up.
Harry quickly takes his off too as she reaches for it, to hang it beside hers. He gives her a small thanks and then takes his shoes off, setting them beside hers . Y/N has walked into the threshold to the left that led to her kitchen. He notices the tinsel hanging from the beam and smiles before taking a quick peek into her kitchen. As he guessed, it’s all decked out in Christmas stuff too. Towels and nicknacks that seem to replace everyday things like salt and pepper shakers and her soap dispenser that was spaced like a snowman.
“I’ll order a pizza right away. Hopefully this weather won’t slow them down. Have you ever eaten at Sal’s down the street?” Y/N questions.
“Tons,” Harry says. He leans against the threshold to the kitchen and watches as Y/N sets her purse on her small kitchen table and fishes through it for her cell phone. She’s got this crease between her brows as she can’t seem to find it, but it instantly goes away and is replaced with a smile as the iPhone is in her hands.
“Do you like anything on your pizza?” She asks, eyes on her phone screen and she brings up the menu. She typically just gets a cheese, sometimes spices it up with a vegetarian pizza cause she likes the green peppers and red onions.
“I’m actually a vegetarian,” Harry states. “Well, I eat fish on occasion so I guess I’m a pescetarian.”
“Oh cool,” Y/N says, looking up to see Harry’s watching her from the space between her kitchen and living room. The way he’s leaning against the small space of wall, arms crossed at his chest and head tilted to the side - he looks good. He’s dressed in a pair of beige trousers, straight and baggy as his last ones were too, and has a white tank top tucked into the waistband while he layered with a fun patterned button up shirt. She can’t quite make out what is printed on the shirt, but the little squares seem to each have a picture in them.
“Where did you get that shirt?” Y/N can’t stop herself from asking, the fashion lover in her wanting to know.
Harry glances down at the short sleeved shirt on his body, then shrugs, “I think I thrifted it back home in England a few years back,” he says.
“I like it,” she says, then brings up one shoulder in a shrug to make it seem more casual. It’s not weird to compliment your neighbours clothing, Y/N thinks as she glances back down at her phone. “I’m going to order a cheese and they have a great vegetarian pizza too that I like,” she tells Harry while punching in her order on her delivery app.
“Yeah, I’ve had it before, it’s pretty great,” Harry agrees. Y/N can’t help as her body reacts to how low and slow Harry’s voice is. How she gets small chills throughout her body, as if threatening to pebble goosebumps along her arms, and how her mind feels foggy almost as she listens to him speak. She rolls her lips into her mouth and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her fitted black pants. He could tell her the most pointless story and she would let him, just to hear his voice and that accent that went with it. Moving to her fridge, she finds the bottle of red she had opened last night. It’s such a normal thing for her to have a glass or two after work that she doesn’t even think of her guest. He might not even like wine.
“Do you drink?” Y/N asks, looking over her shoulder to see Harry still in the same spot but his hands now in the front pocket of his trousers.
“What are we drinking?” He asks with a smile.
Y/N smiles back, as she always does, and reaches for the wine she had her eye on. “I opened this bottle of wine last night, it’s red. Would you be interested in a glass?” She asks, holding the bottle up for Harry to see.
“I’d love a glass, thanks.”
“Perfect,” Y/N nods and sets the bottle down on the counter beside her fridge. “You can get comfortable on the couch, I’ll bring our drinks in a moment.”
“Sounds good,” Harry nods. With one final glance up her body as she reaches high in her cupboard for two wine glasses for them, he shakes his head and turns around. He has to stop checking her out, he has no idea if she’s into him or not. She’s simply being a nice neighbour, and here he was, fancying her so much he’s checking her out like some horny teenager.
Harry runs a hand through his hair, walking around the back of the couch to take a seat on the corner furthest from where the Christmas tree lit up Y/N’s living room. He really did like all of her joy that she’s put into decorating her home. There’s no doubting her love for the holiday, not a single space feels like it was forgotten as she must have spent all day setting it up. He especially liked the framed photo on the side table to his right, where there was also a rather plain lamp and a Santa spaced coaster too. Inside the frame was a small child who he knew immediately was Y/N. There was no mistaking that smile of hers even at such a young age. She’s sitting on a man’s lap, a man dressed as Santa, but it’s truly the most realistic mall Santa he’s even seen. Harry thinks back to his home in that moment, imagining the many photos of him and his older sister with many variations of mall Santas that must be littering his mum’s house by now. Truthfully, many of them didn’t leave the shelves during the year.
“Here you go,” Y/N says as she holds out a wine glass nearly half full of red wine to Harry. He takes it from her, his fingers brushing hers for a moment and sending those childish tingles through his body.
“Thanks,” he nods and brings the glass to his lips to have a taste. If he wouldn’t be so infatuated by Y/N, he would have told her that he typically didn’t drink red wine. He typically doesn’t drink at all, except for the occasional night out with his mates. But he saw that look on her face that said ‘I need a glass or two’ and he couldn’t say no, knowing it’d make her feel awkward and end up not having a glass herself.
Y/N lets out a long sigh as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, relaxing alongside Harry as if they aren’t complete strangers. He liked that she felt comfortable around him. She did in fact enter his apartment the other day in a bathrobe and use his shower after all. After she takes another long sip of wine, she sets it down on a matching Santa coaster that sits on the coffee table - Harry notices now that she had brought the bottle of wine with her too.
“Long day?” He questions. Y/N nods, tucking her legs under her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside him. She clears her throat softly before answering him.
“Uh, yeah, work’s just been a lot lately and I’m actually looking forward to some time off,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair, and then leans her arm on the back of the couch. Harry watches her movements, bringing his glass of wine to his lips to have a small sip, which he notices she watches him do. He likes her eyes on his lips, he thinks before turning his body slightly and setting his wine on the side table. When he turns back and looks her way he notices the slightly tint of pink flushing over her cheeks. Harry fights the tug at his lips to smile at how she seemed to catch on that he caught her staring at his lips.
“That’s always the worst, feeling as if you’re counting down till the days off,” Harry exclaims.
“I typically don’t, to be honest. I love my job,” Y/N states. “It’s my career so I better,” she adds with a chuckle.
“So you’ve already found your career at such a young age then, that’s awesome. Have you always known you wanted to be involved in the fashion industry?” Harry asks, his eyebrows pulled together as he does find himself very curious of how she herself a career so young.
“First off, twenty four is really starting to not feel young anymore so let's not label me as a youngster or anything alright-“
“Um, twenty four is young but okay,” Harry cuts her off with a playful look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his teasing. He’s always hung out around people older than him and typically dated women older too. But Y/N doesn't seem young. From what he’s seen from her, she doesn’t fit the mold of any twenty four year olds he’s known before - most being rather rude and partying their youth away while it’s obvious that Y/N worked hard during those years. Y/N looks as though she's got the whole world figured out already, and he admires that a lot.
“And secondly, yeah, I guess I sort of did know, not at first, of course, but it was always an interest of mine,” Y/N states, bringing Harry back to their conversation.
“What did you want to be when you were a youngster then?” He questions, using her choice of words back at her which makes Y/N chuckle. She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she falls back into memories of her childhood. She remembers being emotionally attached to a pair of plastic pink princess slippers and how she slept in her matching tiara for nearly a year before her mom put a stop to her fantasy.
“I wanted to be a princess-“
“Me too,” Harry says.
“Stop interrupting me,” Y/N laughs and reaches across the couch to smack his arm. Harry's head feels light, his cheeks hurt from grinning at Y/N so much. He hasn’t felt like this in quite a while. Being able to have a light conversion with a pretty girl. How she makes him smile and laugh so easily too, it’s a really nice feeling. “But you’d make a much prettier princess for sure-“
“Not at all,'' Harry disagrees, managing to cut her off yet again. She glares at him but can’t help the smile that's still on her face.
“Anyways, I wanted to be a princess and then I wanted to be one of Santa’s elves-”
Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says as he’s not so surprised to hear her say so - seeing as it looked like Santa’s village inside her apartment.
Y/N chooses to ignore his short interruption this time and continues on. “But then as I got older and got ahold of the internet, I wanted to be a model cause I thought it was the most glamorous thing, but I wasn't as beautiful or skinny as Candice Swanepoel so that was out of the question-“
“This is the last time I'll interrupt you I promise,” Harry says, Y/N presses her lips tight together and gives Harry another look as if to say yeah right. “But I cannot let you sit here and say you aren't pretty or skinny enough to be a model, Y/N, because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen and your weight is nothing to ever question,” Harry pauses as he looks down at the sofa between them, realizing that he had said all that out loud. He was slightly embarrassed as he’s not sure how she’d take her neighbour saying all that to her.
My heart needs to calm down like now, Y/N thinks as she wets her lips and fidgets with her own hands as she watches Harry. “Y/N, don’t ever think less of yourself,” he adds in a gentle voice that sends chills down her spine.
Y/N doesn't respond right away, because honestly she's speechless. No one has ever said something so kind and so genuine to her. Sure, she’s gotten compliments from people, but the way Harry immediately stopped her from talking poorly of herself had made her stomach stir and her heart race. They had only just met, only had a few interactions - they were all good, great even - but Harry wasn’t like most people she’s met before and she’s beginning to realize that. She looks up to see Harry's watching her, his green eyes staring back at hers. Something switches in the air between them as Harry feels like he should lean in. Should he lean in? Would she want that? Does she want him?
“Thanks,” she smiles, bringing Harry back to their conversation. She clears her throat and sits up straight again, flipping her hair over her shoulders and snuggling into the couch some more. “If I ever feel down about myself again, I’ll be sure to knock on your door and demand you shower me in compliments,” Y/N teases.
“I’d be honoured to,” Harry says. There's another beat of silence, but it's not quiet inside his head. All he’s thinking about is how he should've made a move. She felt it too, right? Harry stops himself before he can go too far inside his head again while thinking about Y/N. “I won’t cut in again. Continue from the dreams of being a model - which you’d be a great model, by the way, don't count that one out just yet.”
Y/N smiles again, not even sure if she’s stopped smiling honestly. “Right, well, modeling led me into the world of fashion. Not that I hadn't known about Vogue or any of the high fashion houses since I did grow up in New York; fashion week had always been a highlight for me. But I actually started to look into the other sides of it. Designing wasn't an option, I just didn't feel original enough. So I did some personal assistant stuff during my high school years at fashion week, working behind the scenes at shows.”
Y/N pauses to lean forward and grabs her glass of wine again, needing liquid to coax her throat before she continued. Harry noticed that she was talking so passionately, probably not even realizing how much she was using her hands while speaking or how her eyes lit up at the world she painted for him. “And then I got a scholarship into FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I was lucky enough to get an internship at my current workplace but quickly got offered a position on my graduation day, and now I'm one of our senior associates.”
“And what does your job really entitled to exactly?”
“We do a lot of things, but we’re really a personal shopper and stylist company. Working with many of New York's elite, even some of the east coast’s elite really, as well as celebrities too, which is always fun to see the dress you styled at the Met Gala or the Grammys. I just do a lot of running around, it feels like,” Y/N explains, “like how I had to rush to the Gucci store on Fifth Ave in order to get some pieces for Mrs. Achibald for tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds like a real tough job,” Harry taunts. Y/N returns his smug look and narrows her eyes at him playfully.
“Right, well what do you do then? You always seem to be home, I’m starting to think you don’t even have a job. Maybe you’ve just got a sugar daddy, hmm?” Y/N jokes. Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. Y/N laughs with him before taking a sip of her wine that she had almost forgotten about.
“Definitely not a sugar baby, although that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, totally,” Y/N nods in agreement. They both chuckle again. Harry reaches for his wine to take a sip before answering her question for real this time. Blame the wine, he thinks, for any longing looks or laughing too much at her jokes just blame the red wine in his glass.
“I’m actually in the music industry, kind of,” Harry states.
“How are you kind of in the music industry?” Y/N questions curiously, her brows pulled together as she takes another sip of wine.
“I am a studio rat, as people in the industry would call it,” Harry says, Y/N’s face scrunches up at his words utterly confused at the term. “I pretty much live in music studios most of the year. Most of my time is taken up by writing. So I guess I’m a songwriter, but I also make demos for my songs with a few people I’ve grown close with in my studio, so I end up doing some instruments for artists' studio versions of songs. I do a bit of producing too, but I mostly leave that to my buddy, Tom.”
“Wow, that sounds like a really cool job. And here I was jabbering on about my job when you’re a songwriter? That’s so cool,” Y/N repeats, another sip of wine going down her throat as she stares at Harry. His cheeks are starting to turn red, eyes avoiding hers as he fidgets with his rings. “Have you written any songs I’d know?” She asks, trying to get more information out of him.
“Maybe,” Harry shrugs.
“You’re not going to tell me?” Y/N asks, brows pulled together.
“Nope,” Harry shakes his head.
“Shouldn’t you be proud of your work?”
“Of course I am,” Harry says, bringing a crooked finger up to his nose before rubbing it twice. “I just know that my music might not be everyone's favourite.”
Since the beginning of his freelance songwriting career, Harry's always been nervous to show people what he’s poured his heart and soul into, especially to people he’s friends with, or people he likes. What if they hated it? He couldn’t bear listening to the fake “it's great” with an even faker smile. Although he knows people do like his songs, those people were mainly artists that bought his songs and their fans, of course, along with his fellow colleagues. He just doesn't want Y/N to hate his work.
“Well, I'm sure it's brilliant,” Y/N says. “And maybe one day you’ll show me.” She adds with a smile, not wanting to force the subject, over the rim of her wine glass before taking another sip and finishing off the red liquid in one small gulp. She frowns at the empty glass and sets it down on the Santa coaster on the coffee table. “Do you write all the time then?” Y/N asks, bringing her gaze back to Harry’s.
“Pretty much, although I’m in the studio less in December due to it being so close to the holidays. I’ve actually got my last session with my mates just in a few days.”
“Counting down the days till you have some time off?” She asks, referring to what he had said earlier to her.
“Not particularly,” Harry says.
Y/N is about to ask why, but then her phone bings from her pocket. It’s then that she realizes she hadn’t thought of looking at her phone once since sitting down with Harry. She had been so engrossed with their conversation, and feeling a light buzz that she managed to forget about the pizza she ordered. The notification on her screen read that her pizza had arrived at the building, and the delivery person would be here any second. Then her phone starts ringing.
“Hello,” Y/N answers the phone in a sweet voice. Harry has to stop himself from staring, instead finding himself grabbing the red wine that he wasn’t too fond of, and has a few sips as he listens to Y/N talk to, what he assumes, is the pizza delivery. She buzzes them up with one tap on her phone before the call ends. “Our dinner is finally here,” she tells Harry, even though he had gathered as much, but he still smiles in response. She stands from the couch and adjusts her pants by pulling them up slightly. They fit her so bloody well, Harry thinks. “And we are both nearly done with a glass of wine each before we’ve even eaten,” Y/N chuckles as she walks past Harry and to the kitchen to her purse.
While Y/N pays for their food, Harry takes it upon himself to top off her glass of wine. He was content with his last few sips between bites. Y/N sets the two pizza boxes on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen to grab two plates and some napkins for them. They work together in a comfortable silence to get things set up; both boxes open and Y/N settles back onto the couch before they dig into the large New York slices.
Y/N brings a piece straight from the box to her mouth, once she bites into the greasy food she moans around her mouthful of cheesy pizza. Harry is just about to take his first bite as well but stops just short at the sounds that come from Y/N. He dares to glance her way, throat bobbing as he takes her in. Both eyes closed, her head hanging back and lips turned up into a smile as she chews her food. He watches her swallow, utterly mesmerized by her soft skin moving just slightly. Dear god, Styles, get it together, he thinks as he imagines her swallowing something else.
Y/N opens her eyes at the sound of Harry clearing his throat, turning her gaze to him and seeing him lift his piece of pizza to her in a ‘cheers’ manner. “Thanks again for the meal,” Harry says. There his voice does it again, sounding all low and throaty as it makes chills go down her spine.
“No problem,” Y/N nods. She tries to focus back on eating her food, willing the thoughts in her head to go away. But she can’t stop them from entering her dreams later that night after Harry and her had said their goodbye - Harry noticed her yawn a few times and began to clean up their plates and empty wine glasses while he continued to tell Y/N about his time in school before he was writing songs full time on his way to the kitchen. Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, smiling at how he didn’t think twice on cleaning up after them. She was pretty sure that’s how her dream started too, but then it led to Harry’s voice whispering in her ear, asking if she’s been naughty or nice this year while they laid in bed. Y/N blames the large glass of wine. One hundred percent she blames the wine.
There wasn’t a more perfect day in the year, Y/N was sure of it, as she sat on a bench in Central Park. It was t-minus three weeks before Christmas Day and she had just gotten off work. The sun was slowly setting in the horizon as she stared at the sparkling snow that covered the ground and trees around her.
She turns her gaze away from the skating rink in the distance to see who had called out her name. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees Harry a few feet away. He’s dressed in a long dark coat that reaches to his knees, one which was exposed from a rip in his loose fitting jeans. With his outfit he wore a pair of chelsea boots upon his feet that trudged through the snow. Y/N noticed that he was bundled up with a grey scarf around his neck and a matching beanie upon his head too. She liked how his hair flipped up at the ends, sticking out of the beanie.
It has been almost a week since their pizza night together, and thankfully, those wine induced dreams had stopped after that one night, which to be fair were rather innocent compared to some other dreams she had thanks to too much tequila - regardless, it’s making it much less awkward to face him now.
“Hey,” she greets him as she meets his eyes once more. Harry stops by the bench, motioning at the open space to her left.
“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Y/N shakes her head and moves to her right just a bit to make more room for him. “Was going for a stroll, thought I was imagining you sitting here by yourself to be honest.” Harry states.
“New York City can seem rather small some days,” Y/N says with a smile.
“Some days, yeah,” Harry nods. “What brings you out to this lonesome bench in Central Park?” Harry asks, looking out at the scenery before them.
“This,” Y/N answers with a hand out to the park.
“It's rather pretty.”
“Very, and calming. And after my day at the office today, I desperately needed to just sit here by myself and disconnect from the world for a moment.”
“Oh,'' Harry says, bringing Y/N’s gaze away from the couple holding hands across the pond and to him instead. “I'm- I'm sorry if I barged in. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say hi.”
“Oh no, it’s totally okay,” Y/N assures him. “I’ve been out here for a good while now.” As if her body realizes at the same time, she shivers beside Harry.
“Did you want to head home?”
“Not particularly,” Y/N hums. Her eyes falling back to the sights before her. The sky is becoming a soft hue of pinks and oranges before their eyes. It warms her heart despite her entire body is cold.
“How about a cup of hot cocoa?” Harry suggests as he sees the cart serving hot drinks just to their right. An older couple and, what seems to be, their grandchildren are being served steaming cups and candy canes too. That seems like something Y/N would like, Harry thinks as he stands from the bench. He's about to offer his hand but thinks twice about it, sticking both his hands into his coat pockets before he can make a fool of himself. “My treat,” Harry adds with a smile.
“I would love that,” Y/N beams while standing from the bench and falling into step with him.
Harry orders for the two of them as they step up to the small cart. Y/N discreetly takes out her phone and opens her Instagram app, swiping to the right to open her camera before she’s bombarded with notifications. She holds down on her screen to begin filming her pointed Versace boots that she had been gifted from work this winter; they had become a staple as the weather grew colder and the snow kept coming down since they had the thickest heel of all the shoes in her closet. Holding the phone up, she catches half of Harry’s body as she films the hot chocolate cart. His back is to the camera, his large coat and beanie covering any angle she did get of him so she’s not afraid to post the story after adding a quick filter to it and typing ‘pro tip: always get a hot chocolate when you’re feeling chilly in central park’ tagging her location as well before hitting post to her story and feeding her nearly five hundred thousand followers with some content for the first time all day.
“Thank you,” Y/N says softly as Harry hands her a to-go cup without a lid since there’s an abundance of whipped cream on top. Her smile turns into a grin as he also reveals he bought her a candy cane. She gasps and is quick to unwrap it and stick it into her mouth.
“Woah, you’re like a toddler itching for a sugar rush, huh?” Harry teases as they begin walking along the path and away from the cart.
“Candy canes are my weakness,” Y/N states as she pushes it to the left side of her mouth in order to talk more clearly.
“Good to know,” Harry smiles over the rim of his cup before opening his mouth and licking off some of the whipped cream. Y/N has to look away as she’s brought back to her dream.
Shaking her head slightly, she brings her phone back up to her face and it unlocks for her. Since it’s still open on the Instagram camera, she holds out her heaping cup of whipped cream and attempts to take a picture as they walk. The first two turn out blurry, then she stops walking, in hopes it’ll turn out nice before Harry can notice she stopped. Only it doesn’t of course, so she ends up furrowing her brows and sucks harder on the candy cane in her mouth before trying three more times to take the perfect snap.
Suddenly, Harry’s hand is in her shot, a blur over her whipped cream. She gasps and looks up to see his forefinger in his mouth, obviously licking off the bit of whipped cream he managed to steal. She’s surprised he did it, and she can tell he is a bit too, but then she huffs out a short chuckle while her mouth is still agape, which makes Harry grin. He doesn’t think twice as he reaches out to swipes his finger over the sweet cream again.
“Stop stealing my whipped cream!” Y/N glares at Harry as he licks his finger clean once more.
“It’s gonna melt anyways, you're taking so bloody long to drink any of it.”
“I'm busy enjoying my candy cane, jeez,” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes the candy out of her mouth, having forgotten about the picture, her phone screen turns blank. Harry shrugs and reaches forward again to steal more. Y/N is faster this time, and moves her cup away from him while bringing her candy cane up and pointing towards him. “Do it again and I'll stab you,” She warns. Harry throws his free hand up in surrender, but both of his cheeks have those deep dimples showing. I’m beginning to really like those dimples, Y/N thinks.
“You get rather hostile over your holiday treats, hm?” Harry questions, raising a brow before slowly retreating his hand to hold his own hot chocolate with his other. He brings the cup to his mouth with both hands and takes a sip.
“Yes, in fact, I do,” Y/N mutters, looking down at her own cup and notices that the whipped cream is nearly gone now. Suppose Harry was right, she missed her chance to enjoy the extra sweetness.
She takes a few sips as they continue to walk together through Central Park. The sky is beautiful as the sunset is in its full glory with dreamy pinks and purples littering the skies. Y/N debates taking a photo but decides against it as she slips her phone into her pocket. Just as she’s about to return the candy cane back to her mouth, she glances over at Harry and notices just as he brings down his own hot chocolate from his mouth that he’s made a bit of a mess.
She chuckles before saying, “you’ve got a little,” Y/N points to her upper lip, “uh, a whipped cream moustache.” She giggles as Harry pokes the tip of his tongue out and swipes it over his top lip. Y/N chuckles some more and offers him her napkin.
“Thanks,” Harry says before wiping it across his mouth, looking back to her to ask, “did I get it all?”
Y/N finds herself staring at Harry for a few moments longer than it would take to give a simple answer if his face was clean or not. She’s never felt so comfortable around someone before, not even her childhood friends or Sammy honestly. There’s this ease around Harry the few times they’ve been around one another, and it makes her heart swell up in her chest. She rolls her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply through her nose, breaking her gaze away from his face and to the ground. In order to not seem weird or awkward, she looks back up and finds his eyes on her while she nods her head.
“Yeah, you’re good,” she tells him. They start their walk through Central Park once more, heading towards home at a slow pace. Y/N has her candy cane back in her mouth, alternating between it and her hot chocolate before it got too cold. She could live off them both one hundred percent; two of the best things ever invented.
“So, tell me about your day,” Harry says, bringing Y/N out of her own thoughts and meeting his gaze again.
“It was a pretty good day, I guess,” she sighs, “we just have a lot of clients that like to do last minute shopping during the holidays and have some pretty crazy demands, but we want to deliver for them so we bend over backwards to do so.”
“I’m sure that can cause you to be rather exhausted then, yeah?”
“Very,” Y/N nods, “but I’m sure your day was much more interesting than mine, so tell me what kind of songs you wrote today?” Y/N asks with a smile.
Harry chuckles and lets Y/N lead the way to their left on the path home, he wasn’t the most confident with getting around sometimes since he usually stuck to the few places in the city that he was familiar with. While he has learned that Y/N is a New York City Native, he trusts her way direction over his, that’s for sure. He thinks back on what he had done today, including a quick run on the treadmill in the gym in their building that ended sooner than he thought as he got a burst of lyrical inspiration out of nowhere.
“I was in my apartment for most of the morning and a bit of the afternoon, then got in a bit of a rut after writing a new song about love, of course. Then I decided I needed to get out of the house and hope for some inspiration from people watching, which I have done a lot since living here,” Harry explains. Y/N takes a big gulp of her nearly cold drink, leaning to her left to get to the garbage they are passing in order to throw out the empty cup. Harry takes the chance to throw his empty cup out too.
“Do you always write about love?” Y/N asks, not thinking twice if it may be a bit too personal of a question. Harry is taken back at first by how that’s all she got from what he had said, but he only clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets now that they are free.
“Mostly, yeah,” he nods, “most relatable thing in life, I suppose.”
“Sometimes, I guess it can be,” Y/N agrees and goes back to sucking on her candy cane. She wonders how many times he’s been in love? How many times has she really been in love? Y/N sighs internally and focuses on her steps, avoiding a puddle by having to step closer to Harry. She sniffles from the cold at the same time and is hit with Harry’s scent - lavender, as it always seems to be how he smells. She still thinks it’s lovely.
The two of them make more casual conversation on their fifteen minute walk home through the busy streets. Harry tells her about an elderly couple he had seen just before seeing her, maybe in their 80s, and looking more in love than he’s ever seen before. He wrote a few things about how they looked before going on his way. Y/N tells him about how her grandparents used to go on walks through the park when she was younger, which then brings them into the topic of grandparents in general. Harry tells her about how his grandpa refuses to retire and how his grandma ends up bugging his mom because of how lonely she is. Y/N is smiling the whole time, loving how he must feel comfortable around her too as he’s able to talk about his family like this. Y/N also yawns many times in their short walk. She’s tempted to invite Harry into her apartment for some wine and pizza again but decides against it and simply gives him a smile and soft goodbye at her door, deciding to get into her night routine earlier than normal due to how she can’t stop yawning.
After hanging up her coat, double checking her door was locked, and slipping out of her boots, Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket to check out what text she missed while on her walk home. She liked how she wanted to feel so present around Harry, having no want to look at her phone but instead being more interested in his little stories about his grandparents. Her face ID unlocks as she looks at the screen. It’s still on the photo she last tried to take for her Instagram. Harry’s hand was a bit of a blur as he stole her whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. There was no way to not know it was Harry’s hand, though, his rings being so unique and noticeable in the photo as well - her favourite being his initials wrapped around his fingers in gold. Some would think it’s maybe a bit narcissistic, but Y/N thought it looked good and really there’s no harm in being a narcissist sometimes right?
Y/N saves the photo but doesn’t post it, deciding to simply keep it for herself instead of letting her many followers see into a small yet sweet moment between her and her newest friend. She could call him that right? They were friends? Y/N did hope that Harry thought of her as a new friend too because she was enjoying this time with him a lot, maybe even a little too much.
It had been another day spent at the cafe down the street for Harry. Marking only one last day off till his final studio time this year, he was itching to get to work in a couple days and see his mates too. Over the almost two weeks, he’s written more than he had expected himself to and he knew he could thank a certain new neighbour, or I guess, a new friend, Harry thinks to himself as he turns towards his apartment building. There was no denying the feeling he got around Y/N. He wanted to become more than friends, eventually, no rush of course - but he couldn’t ignore the feeling he got around her; the butterflies and heart racing nearly every moment together. And he couldn’t forget the constant smiling, which he was doing right now just thinking about her.
Harry walks up to the main doors of his apartment building and notices a man beside the main doors. Harry furrows his brows at him. He didn’t look like some strange man trying to find warmth during the beginning of the evening here in the city that had fallen to freezing temperatures as the first week of December came to an end. In fact, he had a brand new iPhone in his hand and rather expensive looking clothes keeping him warm.
“Hey, did you need inside?” Harry asks the man standing by the intercom system. The man looks up at Harry, eyes narrowing at him. He seems Harry’s age, maybe even a few years older judging by the lines around his eyes. He’s got dark eyebrows which makes Harry think he must have dark hair under the beanie he wore under the hood of his thick winter coat. Harry waits for an answer, staring back into the stranger’s brown eyes.
“Yeah, girlfriends not answering and I know she’s inside,” his voice is low and gruff, he then lifts a Starbucks hot cup up - Harry recognizes the holiday pattern anywhere now since Y/N seems to always have one on her even in quick passing in or out of the building. “Even got me to pick her up this stupid drink on my way too, her fault if it’s cold now I guess.”
“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, kind of put off by the man’s attitude. He decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and holds the door open for it. The man walks in without so much of a thank you. You’re welcome, Harry sarcastically thinks to himself.
They walk together to the elevator in an awkward silence. Once the doors open Harry steps up to the buttons and hits the sixth one, not bothering to ask the man what floor he needs as he steps away. The stranger gives the lit up button a brief look before he’s staring down at his phone. As the elevator moves Harry’s mind wanders off to how he’d assert himself into Y/N’s evening today. Maybe he could make her dinner, then ask if she’d like to walk over to Central Park after because he knows how much she enjoys it there, and when they decide to take a break from walking and find a bench he’d finally get the nerve to make a move - maybe reach for her hand during the walk even. One thing was for sure, he liked Y/N and he needed to buck up and do something about it.
He’s still deep in thought about Y/N when the elevator doors open. The man he let into the building steps out first without even glance at Harry. Typical New Yorker, he thinks. Harry finds himself looking at where Y/N’s apartment door is over the man's shoulder as they walk down the hall, he’s debating just walking right up and asking her to hang out right away. But then the man stops in front of the door that reads 602 - Y/N’s door.
Y/N hears the knock on her front door and blinks rapidly at her laptop screen, unfocusing from her long email that she was to send to her boss, Amanda, within the hour with an update on how the first week of December had gone. She glances at the time and sees it’s nearly four in the afternoon. Took him long enough, she thinks while rolling her eyes and standing from the couch. Just as she’s a few steps away there’s another knock on the door. She sighs and unlocks it, quickly throwing the door open to reveal Mark standing on the other side.
“You are home,” he says, that attitude she knows so well is thick in his voice already. Y/N opens her mouth, about to sass him back, but then she notices a certain tall figure with a mess of brown hair walking behind Mark.
“Harry,” Y/N breathes out, hoping he didn’t even hear it honestly. But he slows his steps and gives her a tight lipped smile once facing her. It’s one she was not familiar with and makes her stomach feel as though it was full of rocks.
“Hey,” he says with a small three finger wave.
“You know this guy?” Mark, her boyfriend, questions. Bringing her eyes from Harry’s green ones and to his brown ones instead. “He was nice enough to let me into this place since you were too busy,” he states.
Y/N tucks her lips into her mouth and looks away from Mark and back to Harry. She knows he’s questioning everything by the look in his eyes. She tried. Well, maybe not hard enough, but she wanted to tell him about Mark, even just casually and quickly. Y/N didn’t intend to give Harry any sort of mixed signals during their times together, she really was just being polite and ended up enjoying being around him so much that she thought there was no harm in making a new friend. But she’d be an idiot to try and deny she felt something more than friendship with Harry.
“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat and waves a hand between the two young men, “Mark, this is Harry my uh, my neighbour. Harry this is Mark, my boyfriend.”
Well shit, that’s not ideal, Harry thinks as he looks into Y/N’s eyes and prays he heard her wrong. But he knows he didn’t. So, he just takes a deep breath and forces a smile to stay on his face while holding a hand out to Mark, even though it hurt him to be polite to the guy that was dating the girl he’s been crushing on for nearly two weeks now.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says as Mark grasps his hand and shakes it lazily. Shit handshake, he thinks. “I would love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to get to,” he says quickly after taking his hand out of Mark’s and backing away from the situation towards his own apartment.
Y/N opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. She just watches as Harry turns on his heels and his posture hunches as he gets to his door and tries to unlock it quickly. Mark is suddenly pushing past Y/N, saying something but she’s too focused remembering the look on Harry’s face just moments ago. She steps back into her apartment and doesn’t look over to where Harry is shutting his own door before closing her own gently.
Really fucked this up didn’t you, Y/N? She thinks as she turns the lock on her door and listens to Mark complain about his day while flinging his belongings around her living room. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? If Harry ever talks to her again, that is. She sighs and closes her eyes before making her way towards where her boyfriend was lounging on her couch, giving him a small smile as he opened his arms for her to sit with him.
“I did miss you these past few weeks while I was away,” Mark says, planting a quick kiss to her hair as she leans into his body - praying he doesn’t question why her heart is beating so fast. She’s sure he wouldn’t enjoy knowing it’s because of her growing feelings for her new neighbour, and seeing the realization in Harry’s face at the fact she wasn’t single kind of hurt to see.
“Missed you too,” she mumbles, lying. Y/N hadn’t thought about her boyfriend all that much these past, almost, three weeks that he was away for a business trip.
“Do much without me?” Mark asks.
Y/N shakes her head, “no, not much at all,” her soft voice replies while she begins to zone out on the wall that was between her and Harry’s apartments, noticing how it made her feel more separated from him now more than ever.
>> part two <<
thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘
*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*
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20, 25, 30 plss i love your blog 💞💞
Thank you my angel❤️🙏🏼
Prompt List Request
20. “I prefer not to be disturbed”
25. “I can’t smile at you. I’m mad”
30. “Ok, let’s make a deal”
Warnings: This is a bit smutty, I’m not even sorry! 18+ please <3
AN: I haven’t included my tag list because I didn’t want anyone on there to feel uncomfortable being tagged in smut if they didn’t like it!
“Mmmm you know your concentration face makes me hot” Harry mumbled quietly, nibbling on your ear. His arms tight around your waist as his hips pushing into you from behind as you felt his bulge grow in his joggers.
“Haz...I need to get this dress finished” You sigh softly, your head resting back onto his shoulder.
“See...you say that but now you’re just giving me access” He smirks, his lips attaching to the sweet spot on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin gently.
You suppress your moans, masking them in a cough. “H, Lizzo needs this outfit tomorrow morning and I have a shit tonne of diamantes to attach”
“Let me help you...” He pouts, his hands pushing down onto your bum, squeezing roughly. “C’mon baby...you’ve been moaning for a while that I haven’t totally fucked you senseless” His lips turn up into a smirk as his hand sips under the waistband of your joggers.
You whine softly as the contact of his warm hand against your skin.
“I know baby...I’m sorry I just really have to get this done” you frown and pull his hand away reluctantly.
“Why don’t you just let me sit and wait quietly...” He sits down behind you on the bed. “Because I know you Haz and you wont be quiet” You laugh and smile.
“I promise I will be quiet...if...”
“I knew there would be an if” You roll your eyes.
“I’ll be quiet if you let me keep my hands on you...” He smirks.
You sigh “I think it’s the only choice I have...” A small smile forming at your mouth. His smile widens as he shuffles to the end of the bad, pulling you onto his lap as you continue to attach jewels to a dress.
Harry’s hand slipped back into your joggers, his fingers gently running over the damp spot between your lips, over the material of your panties.
Your breath hitched in your throat. “Please hurry baby...I don’t want to keep you...waiting too long” Harry breathed quietly into your neck as you let out a gentle whimper, his finger flicking under the material “mmm y’so wet for me...Always so wet” he growls gently.
You groan “I-I prefer not to be disturbed” You bite your lip harshly, feeling his teasing fingers roam your lips. “I think this is a good enough reason to disturb you, his lips find their way back to your neck. “I thought you said you’d be quiet” You whimper.
“mmm...sorry m’baby” He mutters as he pushes two of his fingers deep into you.
You couldn’t stop the moan escaping your lips as you felt your hips twitch “F-fuck....haz” You groan and lean back into his chest. His fingers curl up, pushing in and out of you gently and slowly. “mmm Haz, j-just like that....s-so good” you whine.
“Ride m’fingers baby...c’mon. You know you want to” He growls softly, his free hand squeezing your hip tightly.
Your hips roll back into his gently as you feel his length through his joggers, his fingers curling deep into your g-spot.
“Oh my god....yes...fuck right there” You cry out, your fingers running through his curls and tugging them gently. His free hand slipped between your legs as his index finger dances around your sensitive clit. “Soaked for me huh baby...so wet” He groans as your hips begin to roll faster, balancing on your knees as you lean your back onto his chest. “F-fuck baby you know how sensitive my clit gets when you do that to me” You cry out in pleasure.
“I know....shhh I know, let go baby...cum all over my hand so I can lick it off....good girl” He grunts against your neck. “G’na cum for me like a good girl?”
“Yes...yes...oh fuck I-I’m cumming baby” You shiver, crying softly as your walls clench tight around his fingers as you ride out your high.
You whimper as he slides his fingers out slowly and moves his leg, all of a sudden, the try of 250,000 tiny diamante jewels tipped from the movement of Harry’s foot. “Harry!” You gasp and groan.
He looks down then back to you, bursting into a laughter. “Harry that’s not funny! These are expensive! And I need them!” You groan “Oh come on baby...it’s okay” He pulls your lips against yours, kissing you deeply before you pull away. “Just one smile baby girl...”
“I can’t smile at you. I’m mad” You mutter and cross your arms.
“You weren’t mad when you were cumming all over my fingers...” He smirks. “Think I deserve to put my cock in ya’ mouth later...and in ya pussy...nice little treat for giving you m’fingers” He chuckles deeply.
“Ok lets make a deal...you pick these up and clean up that mess...while I clean up my own mess...then later on you get my mouth and my pussy...hm?”
“Deal” He smirks, his hand smacking your bum as you leave the room.
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Can I have a prompt request for 3 & 15 please baby❤️
3: “I will prove you wrong. Just watch.”
15: “I may have lost it.”
“Give me a chance! You never let me have control in bed.” Harry whispered, marching back to the master bedroom you too share because Harry is currently touring. Today you guys landed in Pittsburgh for his show tomorrow.
You walk to the room seeing Harry on the edge of the bed, arms crossed looking at you straight in the eyes. “I never said that! And you said you don’t like being in charge. I remember you saying, ‘you want to be a used up fucktoy.’” You said, staring at him. You don’t know what has gotten over him. You’re not used to not being in control.
Harry stood up and walked towards you where you’re still standing near the entrance. Harry grabs your jaw which makes you let out a gasp due to how forceful how Harry is right about now. “I will prove you wrong. Just watch.” Harry said belligerently. Your eyes went wide because you never witnessed Harry acting this way. You feel the agony your pussy is feeling because you usually don't get turned when someone is trying to make you submit to them. However, with Harry… fuck.
Before you could even say anything Harry lets go of your jaw and lands a smack to your face. Your head turns and you feel something that you never felt before. You’re out of breath and trying to control your neediness. Your face is still not facing Harry so he grabs your cheeks making your face look like a bloated fish. “Now. Is there something you would like to say to me dear?” Harry is looking at you all amusly with that sinister smirk on his face. “No… I mean yeah. I may have lost it. I’m sorry baby.” You apologized. For the first time in a very long time you’re starting to enter into your subspace and Harry notices which made him smile a little bit more. Even gloating.
“That’s what I thought baby,” he said, glancing his eyes all over your face. The next thing he said you weren't expecting this would be how you guys would spend your free day in Pittsburgh. “be a good whore and get on your damn knees.”
send me more prompts.
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Last updated: 10/11/21
♡︎- indicates fluff
❥ - indicates smut
☹︎ - indicates angst
Playing games ♡︎☹︎
The one where Harry and Y/N are in a confusing relationship, and Harry’s ready to stop messing around
Piece of work (requested) ♡︎
The one where being the single father of Alani can be a bumpy road, and Harry loves every second of it.
Good morning, love. ♡︎ ❥
The one where you and Harry have morning sex.
Me too ☹︎
The one where you’re terminally ill, and Harry just want you to let him make sure you’re okay.
I brought food. ☹︎♡︎
The one where you’re guilty after starting an argument but food fixes everything, right?
Because I have you ♡︎
The one where Harry’s hangover makes for a lazy day around the house.
harry being an annoying little shit while you get ready for bed
Harry’s annoying you with his snoring
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