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#harry styles imagine
gurugirl · 2 days
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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 4
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Summary: You and Harry are both missing each other and despite Tyler's sudden interest in talking to you, Harry's determined to finish what you both started.
A/N: This is the final part! I have more blurbs and extras up on Patreon if you'd like to see more of them! xoxo
Word Count: 10k+
Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)
Part 4 Warnings: 18+ only, smut (including anal sex), daddy kink, angst, age gap, sub/dom dynamics, uncomfortable confrontation, fluff!
ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist
. . .
Harry didn’t want to push. He knew that you two were treading a delicate line. You were so much younger than he was and you were his son’s ex-girlfriend. This wasn’t an easy thing to navigate emotionally. He was having fun, but he hadn’t anticipated you suddenly feeling whatever it was you were.
He thought maybe he’d done something wrong at first. He thought maybe he moved the scene along too quickly because he had been eager to get to the good part. He couldn’t wait to press his cock into your other hole. You wanted it so bad and he really wanted it too.
But of course, he wanted it. He was a man who loved the female form. A man who enjoyed sex. Kinky sex. A man who adored anal sex as long as the receiver adored it just as much. So maybe that’s what it was. Perhaps he rushed you along too quickly.
So if you needed space to think about what had happened, he’d give it to you. But what he wouldn’t do was pretend nothing had ever happened between you. That would be too easy. To have a fun little thing with a beautiful younger woman and then suddenly back up and cool off and then – poof – strangers.
He could let you ghost him. He could move on and chalk up the time you spent together as just a little fun fling. No one would ever need to know. That would certainly be tidier. And he’d be able to maintain the relationship with his son as it was before you’d come along. It could just be a fun little secret that he looked back on fondly as he moved on with his life.
He could do that. But he wasn’t going to do that.
Why? Because somewhere along the way he accidentally started to let his big, heavy emotions come alive with you. It was an accident. But he couldn’t help it. Harry’d always been a lover. Someone who enjoyed sex, sure… but he was also someone who enjoyed the relationship that went with sex just as much.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had easy flings before; One-night stands and no strings attached relationships. But that wasn’t always possible with him. It wasn’t possible to feel nothing with you. It was quite the opposite.
He started imagining your smile and the way you made him laugh while he was doing mundane things like laundry or typing up an email at work. He began to imagine you waking up in his bed every morning with your croaky little voice and sleep lines on your face smelling like warm sheets and that unique scent that was just… you. He would be in the middle of watching something on television and feel the need to text you so you could turn it on and watch it too because he knew you’d love it.
So yeah. He started to really like you. As more than he should. It stung him a little to know you needed space to figure out whatever it was that went wrong. But he wasn’t going to stay away forever. He’d let you process but he had things he needed you to know and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t at least tell you what those things were. You’d probably reject it all. You’d probably tell him that wasn’t what this was at all. You’d probably end it right then and there and that would be okay. If you didn’t feel the way he did that would be fair enough, Harry figured. But he wasn’t going to let things fade away and fizzle out. He was going to make you hear him out and if you didn’t like it then he’d step back and respect your wishes.
“Think I’m gonna call Y/n,” Tyler spoke as he walked into the kitchen behind Harry.
He turned to look at his son with confusion, “Why?”
He shrugged, “I feel like breaking up was a mistake. She probably regrets it too. I’ve been thinking a lot and I feel like I kind of just threw away everything because I was too scared to try stuff with her. I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone like her again. I was talking to Jay about it and he told me I was an idiot for letting her go like that. He said that a lot of girls don’t even really enjoy sex that much and if I had to pick between someone that’s into all kinds of weird things and someone that’s not into anything…” Tyler sat down at the kitchen table as he looked at Harry, “… that I might be better off with someone like Y/n. Because she loved sex. That’s for sure.”
Harry sighed and shook his head as he looked out the window over his sink. His son was still so stuck on the wrong reasons for your breakup. You didn’t just break up with him because you were sexually incompatible. You broke up with him because he was kind of a dick to you. Jealous all the time, manipulative. But of course, Tyler didn’t know his dad knew some of those details. You had told those things to Harry.
“She was a great girl, Ty. Do you think that’ll be enough for her to see you again?” Harry swallowed. He hated this. Hated that his son still had feelings for you. Hated that he missed you so bad and it’d only been two days. Hated that you hadn’t called or texted.
“I hope so. I miss her, ya know? Tried seeing this one girl a couple of weeks ago but there was just no comparison. Kept thinking of the way Y/n did certain things a lot better. I still love her too. I have to at least give it a shot.”
“You seemed so upset by her when she broke up with you. Kind of surprised by this a little.”
He really didn’t want Tyler calling you and mucking things up. It was selfish of Harry to think the way he was but if Tyler was still in love with you and tried reaching out that could be it for Harry. That would just complicate things further. But what could he do really?
“I was mad at first but I think the time apart helped me a little. And maybe her too. Maybe she’s missed me just as much, ya know? And she’ll want to compromise a little? Like we were together for 2 years. Almost two years. It would have been two years tomorrow actually so I was thinking about just giving it a shot. I’ll see if she wants to meet up tomorrow or something.” Tyler looked at Harry, “Should I get her flowers? Maybe make some grand gesture to show her how I feel about her? Jewelry even?”
Harry sat down at the table, his brows stitched together as he swallowed down the lump he felt in his throat., “Don’t buy her jewelry. What if she’s not interested in anything anymore? Don’t make any rash decisions, Ty. Okay? Just…” he sighed as he was about to give his son actual advice, against his better judgment, “Take it slow with her. Call her and see if she wants to meet up first. Flowers could be nice if she does. But don’t expect anything. Don’t push her.”
“Okay. So flowers might be good. Yeah. Okay,” he stood up from the table and pulled his phone out, “Would a text work? Or should I call? I should call shouldn’t I?”
Harry watched his son pace in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. Tyler was looking for advice from the wrong person but Harry wasn’t going to tell him that.
He couldn’t stop Tyler from reaching out to you and he couldn’t stop you from agreeing to meet up with him if that’s what you chose. But that didn’t mean Harry wouldn’t do something rash. Something he might regret in the long run. But sometimes those heavy and deep feelings you get for someone can make you do crazy things.
. . .
You were shocked to see the text from Tyler. And a missed call with a voicemail. You’d been busy with work all day so when you were finally seated in your car and the quiet of the day could sink in you hadn’t expected to see anything from him. He hadn’t been on your mind at all.
Please call me back. I’d like to talk about how things ended. I miss you.
You sighed and put your phone down into your cup holder. Tyler was not the man you wanted to hear from. Not anymore. Now all you could think about was Harry. It’d only been a couple of days since you’d seen him. You figured if you could hold out seeing or hearing from Harry for a little longer, your feelings would start to evaporate and then you could move on. You didn’t want to get your heart broken by your ex’s dad. And you were sure that’s where things were headed with you two.
You imagined scenarios where you told Harry how you were developing feelings for him and it would go one of two ways.
The first more likely scenario had Harry gently letting you down. Telling you that you were amazing (because he was so sweet like that) and that you had your whole life ahead of you but that you were too young and deserved to be with someone you could share your life with in a healthy way. That he never intended for feelings to get involved. Plus he would remind you that you dated his son and he couldn’t very well get into some kind of serious thing with you. Ever.
The second very unlikely scenario had Harry admitting his own feelings to you and telling you that you two could make it work despite the age gap and despite the fact that you dated his son for almost two years. He would hold you close and tell you all those sweet things you wanted to hear and he’d make love to you after, full of promises and he’d tell you not to worry about Tyler.
So to see that you’d gotten a text from his son and not him was disheartening. You were absolutely no longer interested in Tyler. In no way was there any love left for him. His father, however? You were dipping your toes into those messy feelings of attachment that started to ebb on the L word. You weren’t ready to face that thought quite yet though.
You decided to listen to his voicemail. Mostly so you could just clear the notice from your phone and get it over with.
“Y/n, hey, it’s Ty. I’m sure you’re busy with whatever right now but I just needed to call you and tell you a few things. I miss you a lot. I realize that I kind of fucked up. I think we can still work things out if you want to try and compromise on a few things. Ya know? And… Oh! Guess what tomorrow is? It would be our two-year anniversary. I don’t know if you even care or not but I still do. I was hoping to meet up with you. Just so we could we could talk. No pressure. But I think we owe it to ourselves to just give it one more shot or at least hear me out in person. Call me back, please. I miss you, Y/n.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned your head back into the seat of your car. You didn’t want to see Tyler at all. You thought it was interesting that he assumed there was anything left to salvage after the way you broke up with him. And you’d forgotten about the 2-year mark. Harry had basically taken over your thoughts. You wondered what Tyler would think about you then. You laughed to yourself at the idea of you telling Tyler the kinds of things his dad had done to you. Surely then he’d despise you and move on.
But you’d never tell him those things because Harry wouldn’t like that. And you never wanted to do anything to disappoint Harry in any way.
On your drive home, as you felt the stress of your day begin to fade you wondered if it would be a good idea to see Tyler. Perhaps you could just meet him somewhere public, let him talk, and then set the record straight once and for all. You had zero intentions of getting back with him. That was just no longer an option. Not after Harry. Not after anything actually.
And when you heard your phone ping with a text you groaned. God was he persistent. You just needed some time to think first.
You didn’t owe him anything. You could just ignore it and move on but you were one of those people who felt like others deserved to be heard out whether they deserved it or not. You had dated the guy for almost two years after all. And maybe the smallest part of you hoped he’d tell Harry he was meeting with you. You weren’t sure why you hoped he’d tell his dad. You didn’t know what that would achieve. Just the notion of contact even if indirect perhaps.
But when you pulled your phone out of your cup holder you were surprised to see that the new text wasn’t from Tyler. It was from Harry.
H: I know you’re just getting off work right now. Hope you’re okay and that this isn’t overstepping but I miss you and would like to see you so we can talk. There’s a lot I need to tell you. Whenever you’re free.
Your heart leaped and your breaths grew shallow as you read his words twice more. You hadn’t expected him to reach out to you. It felt like such odd timing but you quickly text him back as you sat in the parking lot at your apartment.
You: Hi. I’m okay and you’re not overstepping at all. I was thinking of texting you soon. What are you doing tomorrow night?
You felt shaky as you stepped out of your car and made your way up to your front door, all the while checking your phone to watch the screen and see that he was typing a response. You were giddy. Beyond excited.
H: No plans tomorrow night. What’s on deck?
You let out a puff of breath as you entered your apartment with a cheesy grin.
You: I’m going to Bet’s Bar with a few friends at 8. Just super casual. But maybe you can meet me there and we can get away to talk a bit? I’d like to see you too.
This was one of those nights out that you’d been dreading. Your friend invited you with two of her friends who you didn’t know all that well. So it was already going to be awkward. But if you had the opportunity to scoot off somewhere and cozy up at the little table with Harry that could make the night so much better. Especially if you could leave with him after.
H: Yes. Okay. I can meet you there. Would you like me to come at 8 or do you want to spend time with your friends first?
You typed your response quickly.
You: Come at 8 if you want. I’ll tell my friends you’re going to be there too. They won’t care if we get a different table to talk.
Your heart was pounding in your chest. But that’s how it always was when you made plans with Harry. But this time felt different.
H: Great. I’ll see you at 8. I’m looking forward to seeing you.
You grinned and peeked into the kitchen to see your roommate cooking something.
“Hi Goose! What are you making? Smells good.” You leaned over the pot she was stirring.
“Marinara. For pasta. Thought we could stuff our faces on starch tonight if you want.”
“Oh that sounds fabulous,” you grinned at her and looked down at your cell phone. “I’m gonna go changed and then I’ll be right here to help you eat this,” you laughed as you walked to your room.
Somehow texting with Harry and knowing you were going to see him tomorrow made you feel more confident in calling Tyler back. You needed to get it over with.
The phone rang twice before he answered, “Y/n! Hi! How are you?”
“I’m good. Got your message and figured it would be nice to talk. Like you said.” He already sounded too keyed up which meant he had false confidence and probably thought this meant more than it really did.
“Where are you? Can I meet you somewhere?” Yup. You called it.
You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance as you shook your head, “Not today, Ty. I just got off work and–“
“Okay. Tomorrow then?”
God was he pushy. And he was crazy for thinking you’d spend a moment of your precious Saturday with him.
“I’m busy tomorrow. Uh… how about lunch on Monday? I can take an hour and we can grab a bite somewhere.”
“Monday? Well, what about Sunday? I feel like I deserve more than an hour, Y/n.”
You laughed, “I don’t agree. Monday at lunch is doable for me. Sunday I’ll probably be nursing a hangover. I’m going out with friends tomorrow night and I won’t be in the headspace to talk to you on Sunday.”
“What friends?” He sounded exasperated.
You rolled your eyes, “Does Monday work or not?”
You could hear him mumbling something. Probably about how rude you were or inconsiderate because he always thought he was owed more than he actually was.
“Sure. Monday lunch. So like, 12? Where should we meet?”
“Yeah. 12 works. You choose the spot. Okay?”
“Okay. Y/n, look… I feel like you and I can start thinking about what we can do to make this work–“
“Tyler, I just got off work. Can we talk about this on Monday?” You hated cutting him off. Even though he was an ass it made you feel bad for being so short with him.
A heavy sigh came through the receiver, “Fine. I’ll see you Monday.”
You tossed your phone to the bed and changed into comfy sweats before joining Goose in the kitchen.
“Was it loverboy?” Goose teased as she sat the wooden spoon down and looked at you.
“Loverboy?”
“The man that’s been coming over. I have no idea what he looks like or what his name is,” she laughed, “But I know you call him Daddy.”
Your eyes widened and you balked a laugh, “Oh my god. You heard that?” You put your hands over your eyes and groaned, “I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care. You’re usually pretty quiet but sometimes I can hear things. I’ve definitely heard you call him Daddy, though.”
You couldn’t believe that your roommate had heard you. You realized that sometimes you could tend to make more noise than you meant to because you couldn’t help it with the way Harry fucked you or played with you.
“Still. So inappropriate. We try to be quiet. But… we’re sort of taking a break right now.”
“Really? I’m sorry. Sometimes a break is good, though, yeah? Plus you just got out of that relationship with Tyler. Which, good for you by the way. I never liked that guy.”
You laughed and pulled down a couple of pasta bowls, “Yeah… Tyler was good at first but it got to be too much for me to deal with.”
You and Goose (her real name was Oris) sat and ate pasta and chatted about your love lives. It felt good to talk about what was going on, even if you didn’t give her all the sordid details about Harry, just talking about it helped give you a different perspective on things. A good venting session was exactly what you needed. It was time to be honest with Harry. If you didn’t do something or tell Harry what you felt you’d most definitely lose him. And tomorrow you’d get that chance to come clean to him. At least it would be you being honest and true to yourself. And Harry deserved your honesty at the very least.
. . .
You kind of went overboard. Dressing yourself in your favorite dress that showed off your assets, shoes that flattered your feet and ankles, a little gold necklace with a heart charm, your special going-out perfume, and makeup just so… Everything looked good. You were smooth and moisturized, smelled great, and to be honest you felt great too. You were hopeful. The more you read over the texts from Harry the more confident you were that he’d be going back to your room that night. Or maybe you’d go to his. Didn’t matter to you. As long as the night ended with Harry wrapping his arms around you and telling you he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. That was really all you wanted out of this.
H: Really excited to see you tonight, baby. I hope you know that.
That text from Harry before you were about to leave had you jumping up and down in your bedroom with a hot face and a pounding heart. And he called you baby? You were ridiculous but who could blame you? It also had you feeling a bit extra cheeky suddenly so you added one more little accessory to round it all off. You weren’t sure Harry would encounter the little thing but you sure hoped he would.
Bet’s Bar was one of those spots that was kind of classy based on the décor and the drink menu but the reality was that the place was more of a dive under the façade. The tables and floors were usually sticky, the drinks were watered down, the music that crackled over the old speakers was loud so you had to shout to be heard, and they had crappy bar food that you imagined was bought frozen and then heated up in some cheap toaster oven that had one side heating up more than the other before being served as “gourmet”.
“Oh shit, Y/n! You look hot!” Your friend spotted you as you walked into the bar. You were looking all around for Harry but didn’t see him yet.
“Thanks,” you grinned shyly; Acting as if it were by complete accident that you were perfectly put together.
“Let’s get a photo before we all get wasted. We’ll do a before and after,” she laughed as she stood in the middle with her phone out, you on one side and her two friends on the other.
Everyone took turns looking at the picture to make sure it was worth of being posted on Instagram before she posted it.
Your first drink was a seltzer with lime. You did not want to get drunk. If you and Harry were going to talk you needed to be clear-headed. He also had a rule which was established when you first started seeing him, that if you had too much to drink, sex was off the table. So, a drink or two at most for you. You were more interested in where the conversation would go with Harry than getting drunk anyway.
“So where’s this guy?” One of the girls asked.
You tapped your cellphone to see that it was 8:15, “He should be here soon.”
Though you were a little nervous that he wasn’t right on time. You hoped everything was going to go as you imagined. But of course, when did that ever happen in life?
And at 8:30, just as you were tempted to text him to see if he was okay, you saw him walking in through the front doors, looking like sex on legs. The man was just stunning. Dark curls swept up, a button-up shirt not buttoned all the way so you could glimpse the sparrows and top of his pecs with that light scattering of masculine hair, his white gold necklace with the cross dangling between to remind you of what you were missing. The shirt was tucked into dark trousers that accentuated his thighs and glutes and of course, the unmistakable natural bulge he sported at the front.
You gulped as you waved at him to get his attention. You couldn’t hide the pleased grin on your face or the relief you suddenly felt at his arrival.
Turning on your stool to face him he sauntered up to you with deep dimples scored into his cheeks next to his gorgeous smile and he leaned down to hug you, his cologne making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Missed you, baby.” He whispered against your ear before standing up and taking you in with his starlit green eyes. You gently grasped onto his fingertips looking up at him, “Missed you too.”
You both kept your gazes pinned for a minute until your friend broke the moment, “No wonder you dressed like you’re going for a model shoot,” her cackle had you rolling your eyes but you turned to smile at her.
“This is Harry,” you gestured at him and then pointed at each girl, “And Harry this is Seleh, Quinn, and Lirica.”
The girls all waved and grinned before you hopped off your stool and grabbed your seltzer telling them you’d be back in a bit and that you and Harry needed to talk privately.
He followed you to a small high-top table with two stools at the edge of the room and pointed at your drink, “What are you drinking?”
You looked down at your glass and back up to Harry who hadn’t yet sat down, “Oh it’s just a seltzer. I didn’t want to have too much. Haven’t had a real drink yet.”
Harry’s pink lips curved up into a smile as he nodded, “Okay. Well, I think I’m gonna go up and order a beer. Would you like me to get you something?”
You pursed your lips in thought. You didn’t want to have anything that would get you drunk fast, “A beer for me too. Maybe like a Guinness?”
“I’ll be right back.”
You could tell right away that Harry was there because he really did want to see you. He seemed excited too, which gave you more hope than was probably a good thing. It was always a bad idea to get your hopes up but it was hard to not imagine this night going very well already.
Harry walked back to your little table and sat your Guinness down in front of you and moved his stool next to yours, “Okay if I sit a little closer?”
You nodded, “Of course it’s okay.”
Harry settled himself on his stool and his knee brushed into yours, “I know I said I’d be here at 8 but thought I’d give you at least a little time with your friends before I came in and took you away.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you’re here.”
Harry watched you take a sip of your beer and took a gulp of his own, “So, how have you been? I know it’s only been a few days but felt more like a few weeks if I’m honest.”
Your eyes softened as you shook your head, “I guess I’m… well I missed you. I felt like I needed to think about how I was feeling about everything but I have clarity now and…” you laughed, “I agree. It felt more like a few weeks than just a few days. Too long to not see you.”
Harry’s gaze wandered over your face, “It was too long. Didn’t like it at all. You wanna talk to me about what happened?”
A sigh fell from your lips as you looked down at your pint glass, “I’m worried that if I tell you then you’re not gonna like it and that’ll be it. No more of this,” you looked at him as you gestured with your finger between yourself and Harry.
“Okay. So you had a few days to think about whatever it was and you said now you have clarity. Yeah?”
You nodded.
“Well, that sounds like a positive thing overall. Do you want to tell me what that thing is? I’d really like to know.”
The music was obnoxious and it was hard for your brain to keep your thoughts in a straight line, or perhaps it was from the way Harry was looking at you. He always observed you in this way that had you heating up and wanting to crawl inside of his heart and stay for eternity.
“I started to have feelings for you that you probably don’t return. I was worried I was getting too attached.”
Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on yours but you noticed his shoulders relax a touch. As if he might have anticipated you telling him something different. “I see. Why would you think I wouldn’t also start getting attached?”
“I don’t know. I mean… I guess I can’t read your mind so–“ You shrugged your shoulders.
“Exactly. You would have no way of knowing unless we talked. And now we’re talking. So this is good.”
You smiled and felt Harry’s thigh nudge into yours and you could tell he did it on purpose when his grin stretched wider over his face.
“See, when you told me to leave that night, I thought I’d done something wrong. Thought I moved things along with you too fast. So it wasn’t that at all?”
Your eyes widened at that realization and you shook your head, “Oh god, no. No, absolutely not. It was me being overly emotional and feeling things that I wasn’t sure were good or not. I didn’t, and still don’t know, whether or not we’re just kind of having some fun or if there could be, you know, more?”
Harry raised his brows at you and took your hand in his, “More?”
You looked down at where his thumb was tracing over your knuckles, “Yeah.”
It was silent for a moment. You didn’t know if you’d totally turned him off by that idea or not. But you knew it had to be said. It had to be out there because you’d drive yourself mad if you didn’t say something. And the longer it was silent the more you felt that awkward embarrassing heat cover your thighs and boil in your tummy.
Until you looked up at him and his expression was kind and gentle and you knew you had nothing to be embarrassed about with him.
“So you’re saying that you don’t want this to just be casual anymore. You want something a little deeper because you’re developing feelings?”
You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Baby,” Harry’s deep voice came out like silk as he moved his free hand up to cup your face, “That makes me so happy to hear. I didn’t want to overstep and make you uncomfortable but I tried to show you how I was feeling. I thought it was too much for you and that’s why you wanted me out. That I was coming on too strong.”
Shaking your head you pressed yourself into his palm at your cheek, “No. I thought I was just making things up in my head. That the way you were with me, the way you looked at me and everything… that I was crazy to think it meant more than what we were doing.”
His smile softened as he cocked his head, “And what is it that we were doing?”
You laughed, “Well it started out as just having some fun I guess…”
He nodded, “Yeah. But then what happened? Hmm?” He ran a thumb over your jaw, “We started to get to know one another. Things got more intimate between us. Isn’t that right?”
You felt so relieved that you were having this conversation with him in this way. That he was touching you and looking at you in that way you loved, “Yeah, that’s right. I was worried it was one-sided, though. Didn’t want to assume you felt it too.”
Harry tutted at you, “Should have talked to me. You’d have learned I wanted more as well. But now you know. Now we both know it wasn’t one-sided.”
You nodded as your smile widened, “Now we both know.”
You let a sigh out through your nose as you turned yourself into him and felt your heart thudding in your chest. Harry leaned in, pushing his nose into yours, “I want you, Y/n. I want to be with you,” he spoke against your lips before he dotted a gentle kiss to your mouth.
Your hands found his shoulders, “I want you too. I only want you, Harry.”
Those final words spoken were like a breaker switch that illuminated the space around you and lit up streets and parks miles away. His lips began to move with meaning as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue against the split of your lips and you parted for him, lapping your own tongue against his.
You were breathless and dizzy and overjoyed. Harry felt the same way and all you had to do was tell him that night. You’d wasted so much time in turmoil over false thoughts. Ideas you’d made up in your head about him. But this was real. He was here and he was yours.
But the moment came to an abrupt end when Harry’s body was jolted, his warmth removed from you and you heard an umph! fall from his lungs when his stool scraped on the floor.
You gasped when you saw Tyler with rage in his eyes as he stood with Harry’s collar grasped in his hands, “What the fuck is this? I came here to surprise you Y/n. Saw you tagged in an Instagram post and was gonna make some romantic gesture, but looks like my old man beat me to it.” He looked between you and Harry as he spoke.
Harry was standing up in front of Tyler and you quickly scrambled off your stool to help. You weren’t sure what you were going to do to help but you’d think of something.
“Tyler stop!” You spoke loudly and as forcefully as you could muster.
“What do you mean stop? You and my dad are making out in public when you knew I wanted to see you,” he turned to look at his dad, “You know how I still feel about her. You knew we spoke on the phone yesterday!”
“Calm down, Ty. We’re not doing this here,” Harry warned. He kept his arms to his sides not wanting to hurt his son. Not yet anyway.
“Oh come on! This can’t be for real,” Tyler let go of Harry’s shirt and gestured at you and his dad.
“It is real. This happened. I’m sorry but it did, and I don’t regret it,” you watched Harry as he said it. The admission of what had been going on behind Tyler’s back, all out in the open for everyone to see now.
Tyler looked at you in confusion as he shook his head, “Tell me you haven’t been fucking my dad.”
You shrugged and pursed your lips together as you looked back up at Harry again. He stepped back from Tyler, tucking you in to his side protectively, “I’m sorry you found out this way. It was only a matter of time.”
“Only a matter of time,” he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, and then pointed at you, “Is this the chick you’ve been fucking? I’ve been overhearing you two in your bedroom, and it’s been her all along?”
You closed your eyes and looked down. That was embarrassing. You figured he might have overhead a thing or two but now that he knew who it was… And to be fair, you’d only slept over at Harry’s a few times simply because you didn’t want Tyler hearing it or recognizing your voice.
“Tyler, you need to go. You’re making a scene and you’re embarrassing yourself,” Harry spoke.
“Yeah. I’m embarrassing myself?” he balked sarcastically, “You’re here with my girlfriend under your arm acting like you know her better than I do–“
“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Ty. Go home.”
A woman walked by the table and looked at the three of you as she passed, breaking the strange tension and making Tyler’s stance loosen as he took a step back, “This is insane. You two,” he pointed at you and Harry, “Have you fucking lost your minds? I’m done.” He looked at you, “You and I are done, Y/n.”
“That’s exactly right,” Harry said calmly, “Now you need to go, Tyler.”
“Fuck you, Y/n. You’re trash, you know that? There’s no way he can give you what I did,” he spat.
“Stop! Enough!” Harry’s voice raised at Tyler’s insult of you.
You were used to insults from him but it didn’t stop your face was boiling and feeling that anger and frustration that you used to feel so often with him as it started to crawl up your spinal column and spread over your shoulder blades.
“Is it enough, dad!? You’re fucking the girl I’m in love with. What kind of father are you? Garbage, both of you,” Tyler stepped in closer but Harry tightened his grip around you and angled you away from Tyler’s reach.
“If you get any closer to her I’ll have you flat on the floor in under two seconds. Back the fuck off and get out of here! We’ll talk about this later.”
You’d never heard Harry’s voice so full of fury. The furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes would have been scary if they were aimed at you.
“You know what? Fine. This was a waste of my time.” He looked at you and pointed, “You were a waste of my time. Two-fucking years and this is how you repay me? I regret everything that happened between us. I’m out of here.”
Tyler turned and walked away, his middle finger shining under the dim overhead lights of the bar until he made his way out of the door.
Harry pulled you in front of him as he looked down at you, “Are you okay, Y/n?”
You nodded up at him, “I’m fine. I can’t believe that just happened.”
Harry shook his head, “I should have figured he might do this. I’m sorry, baby.”
You could have purred at the baby. It was like Harry could erase all the stress and anger and turmoil you’d felt at once. His green eyes and soothing voice had you feeling comforted.
“Let’s go. I wanna leave,” you spoke as you smoothed your palms up his cotton shirt, “Will you come home with me?”
Harry nodded and took your wrists in his hands before kissing your lips softly in answer.
You left your unfinished beers and told your friends you were leaving. There were two guys at their table already and none seemed too upset that you were ditching them. Which you figured would be the case anyway.
It felt like you had seltzer in your veins as you climbed into Harry’s car with him. He kept his hand over your bare thigh as drove the short distance to your apartment.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked you with a quick glance before training his eyes safely back on the road.
“I’m fine, Harry. You make me feel really safe.”
You watched as his dimples appeared from the big smile he had on his face. Biting your lip, you thought about him finding your secret other accessory. It was hard not to think about it every time you sat down. And the bucket seats in his car had you sitting in a way that you were pressing into it and it was already doing things to your brain and your body.
The moment you entered your apartment and closed the door behind you his lips were on yours again. His big hands pulled you into his body, squeezing at your bum as you slid your arms over his shoulders and moaned. But he was moaning too.
Three days. It had only been three days and this was the result. But maybe it wasn’t just that it had been three days without him. Because you’d gone longer between seeing him. You knew it was because it was three days of uncertainty. For you and for him. You both were in a state of limbo during that time and it had been your fault.
“Um, hey…” The sudden voice of your roommate startled both you and Harry. You’d forgotten all about Goose to be honest.
You laughed and Harry pulled your hand into his, “This is Harry. Um…” You looked up at him as you spoke.
“Oh, this is Harry. Okay…” she grinned.
You nodded, “Yeah. He’s uh… And, oh! This is Goose, or Oris, but she goes by Goose,” you looked from your roommate to Harry.
He reached a hand out toward her with a smile, “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise. Now I have a face to go with… well I mean now I know what you look like,” she laughed, “But um… I’m just leaving. I’m going to stay over at a friend’s tonight so,” Goose looked at you, “Enjoy.”
“You don’t have to go,” you spoke as you watched her head toward the door.
“I think I do, actually. No offense but, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to listen to you both going at it all night. But seriously, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She walked around you and closed the door behind her, leaving you and Harry alone.
You looked up at him with a knowing smile, blinking your eyes at him, and stood to your toes to continue kissing him.
You weren’t sure what had crashed to the ground as you and Harry began to claw at one another and bumped into your coffee table when he walked you to your room with his mouth on yours. Everything was frantic and began to move on fast forward.
You hardly remembered pulling at his shirt and attempting to push it up so you could feel his warm skin and kiss him properly all over. You didn’t even realize that you’d pushed him down so that you were straddling him and attacking his pecs and his abs with your mouth and your tongue.
But when he laughed deeply, the sound vibrating from his chest as you began to unhook his belt, you opened your eyes and looked at him and realized what was going on, “Sorry!” You laughed in a panted breath.
Harry’s smile told you that he was not offended, “Sorry for what? Baby you can have me however you want. I was just a little surprised when you pushed me down is all.”
You laughed as you looked down at him. You were excited. For everything. That he felt the way you did, that you didn’t have to hide now that Tyler knew, that he was there with you in your apartment, in your bed…
“I think I should apologize for all of this. For what happened,” you cupped his jaw, “Because this could have all been avoided had I just said something to you like a grown-up. We were both on the same page but I made things worse by keeping it in and freaking out.”
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Harry when you began to move down his legs and take his pants with you. He watched you climb between his bare legs and then palm over his bulge as you looked into his eyes, “Gonna make it up to you. I’ll never do that again. I promise I’ll always talk to you.”
Harry grinned and put his hands behind his back to cradle his head, “What are you planning to do to make it up to me, then?” He had a pretty good idea based on the way you were rubbing over him and slowly making him hard in his underwear as you licked your lips.
“Anything you want. Figured I’d start here,” you dipped your fingers into the band of his underwear and raised your brows, “Is it okay?”
Harry’s laugh had you grinning wide, “Yes, baby. You can get me naked if you want. You have permission to do anything you’d like.”
You loved the way he looked. His strong core muscles flexed as he lifted his hips to help you remove his underwear. You dragged your palms up his strong thighs and toward his cock before you cupped a hand under his balls and lowered yourself to him, jutting your tongue out and softly licking the skin on his sac. You reached up a hand upward, wrapped your fingers around his shaft, and began to stroke him from tip to base and back again as you moved your lips over his balls.
Harry enjoyed having his balls licked and so that meant you liked it too. He’d wiggle the slightest and work to keep his thighs spread so you could really get in there and wet every inch of him and then suck them into your mouth gently.
“Y/n… baby…” he breathed out and you looked up at your gorgeous man enjoying the things your mouth did to him.
Licking upward, from his balls all the way up his long shaft to his tip he put his eyes on yours as you dotted hot kisses over his velvety skin. You kept your fist around his base as you swirled your tongue over his frenulum and dipped it into his slit just enough to get that reaction from him you loved.
He bucked his hips softly and gasped before you wrapped your mouth around him and lowered down his cock, finally getting to smooth your tongue up and down his length until his tip pressed into the back of your throat.
You were able to maintain eye contact at first. He kept his hands behind his head as he watched you suck him off with his lips parted.
But when you pulled off of him and you were getting that dizzy, pliable feeling you always got when you needed him to start taking over Harry could tell it was time to assist you.
“Want me to help, baby?”
You nodded, saliva coating your chin, “Please, Daddy.”
So he helped because he was a gentleman of course. With his hand cupping the back of your head holding you down and his hips thrusting up into your mouth he groaned as you gagged and sputtered around him.
You felt the brush of his pubic hair on your nose every time he worked his cock down your throat, making you wretch and gurgle. But the sounds of pleasure falling from his chest, growing more and more intense had you only opening wider, wanting more.
When he lifted you off of him you could hardly see with the glaze of tears in your eyes. Harry’s voice was soft as he helped you out of your dress and you clung to him to hold steady with each piece of fabric that was discarded.
“Such a pretty dress, baby. Wore It for me?”
You nodded and chuckled softly, “Just for you, Daddy. Hoped you’d like it.”
“Oh, I love it. Knew the minute I saw you it was for me. But this is better,” he cupped your tits in his palm as he moved you down to the bed on your back before licking at your nipples and then kissing his way up your neck.
He planted soft, wet pecks to your skin and over your lips before he worked his way down your body slowly until he’d gotten between your thighs and nudged your legs apart.
But he stopped his fluid movements and the brushing of his hands when you looked down at him with a teasing grin, knowing what he just found. Your secret accessory. A pink jewel anal plug.
His chest was rising and falling heavily as he pressed over the pink jewel that was sticking out from your ass and then looked up at you, “Also for me?”
You nodded, “Always only for you.”
Harry’s brows pinched together as he looked back between your legs and smeared his thumb up your labia, glistening with arousal. He dipped down and ran his tongue between your pussylips and up to your clit, smacking it into his mouth and making you moan loudly at the sudden sensation.
His mouth kissed and pressed and his tongue laved and circled every sensitive bit of your vulva. But it was the repeated lapping at your clit and the soft but greedy suckle that had you jerking your hips up and whining.
“Want you, Daddy… Please… Your cock…” You babbled out your words and Harry sat back, his thumb still circling your clit.
“Yeah? Want me inside of you, baby? Can’t handle anymore of this?”
“I want to feel you close to me…” You panted.
Harry ran his hands up your skin and over your neck, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat and the other groping your tit as he kissed your lips and he ran his solid cock through your slippery folds.
“How do you want me, baby? Like this? Maybe you want to be on top this time?”
Part of you wanted him to just fuck your ass. But you did want to feel him in your pussy first. Needed to feel that intimate connection, that stretch…
“On my tummy. With you on me and holding me close.” 
Harry groaned and sat up as he pushed you to your tummy and crawled over your back, making you spread your legs as he ran his cock against your pussy before slowly pushing his wide crown through your slick muscle, expanding your entrance and spreading your vagina with every inch he pushed in until you were whimpering at the depth of him.
He pushed the front of his thighs into the back of yours, “Like this, baby,” speaking lowly into your ear as he pressed his chest into your back and tucked a hand under your hip so he could finger your clit as he began to roll into you, pushing in and in, his solid girth splitting you in two and making you tremble, “Yes, Daddy!”
Harry didn’t fuck into you hard. He didn’t rail the life out of you as he did so many times before. No, this time his movements were slow and languid. Meaningful. Powerful.
“You’re such a good girl, Y/n. Made just for me, baby… Fuck…” he spoke into your ear as he pressed in, your anal plug being nudged into with every rock of his hips.
“I need you, Daddy… I need you…” you didn’t know exactly what you meant when you moaned your words but they were the truth. You did need him. Never wanted to be without him again. Never wanted to go through the torture of not knowing what was going on again.
“Yes, baby. Daddy needs you too, honey. I need you so much… every part of you…” you could hear the strain in his voice, “You’re mine, Y/n. You know that right?”
You could have died right then. That was all you needed in life. Self-actualization realized.
“Yes, Daddy… ohhh ffuuuuu! I’m yours. All yours…” his harsh thrust had your mouth dropping wide and your limbs quivering as he smoothed his fingers over your clit. You couldn’t stop it. Could help the ridiculously loud gurgled moan that fell from your mouth as you began to spasm around him.
“Just like that… Daddy’s cock feels so good doesn’t it baby… Oooh shit, little girl… Yes, there you go…” he coaxed you through your orgasm with soft words as you felt like you could vanish into thin air. He brought his free hand around to the front of your neck as he continued nudging deep into your tummy and panting in your ear.
His hips were pasted to your ass as he ground in, making your plug shift inside of you and you gasped. You wanted more. He had his hand around your throat, just there – not squeezing, and the feel of your plug…
“Daddy…” you panted, “Will you fuck my ass? I want it so bad.”
Harry puffed a laugh against your neck and kissed your jaw, “You sure, honey? You’re not too tired after that?”
You turned yourself to look at him, “Please.”
And how could he say no to you when you looked at him like that? When you called him Daddy and rounded your eyes and squeezed your cunt around his thick shaft.
He licked his lips as he slowly pulled his throbbing cock out of your pussy. He was so close to coming just then. So close to his release he was thankful for the moment it would take to remove your plug.
“This is so pretty, baby,” he spoke as he twisted and began to pull at it to remove it from you. “Gonna look even prettier with my cock in there. Sure you’re ready?”
You groaned and nodded, keeping your body twisted to look at him behind you, “I’m ready. So ready for it.”
Harry poured a very healthy amount of lube over your anus and smeared it all around your tight hole and then dipped his fingers inside to press the slick liquid as deep as his fingers could push it.
“Already nice and relaxed…” Harry commented as he pulled his fingers out. You were ready. You were sure of it. Harry might be a bit bigger than your anal dildo but you knew you were going to love it.
Harry pulled at your hips to angle you up for his access as he softly caressed your bum with one hand and used his other to grip his twitching cock. He smudged his tip to your hole and delicately pressed in, keeping an eye on your reaction as you arched your back and moaned, “More…”
You heard him chuckle as his tip finally breached the space into your anus, opening you up and making the breath catch in your throat at the initial burn and achy stretch.
“Color?” He spoke in a panted breath, already fucking out of his mind at the view he had.
“Green, so green,” you choked out.
He continued to press in until the burn you felt disappeared and that familiar fullness that you loved from your dildo began to take over.
“Ahhhhh!” Your voice was guttural as Harry slid back and then pushed in again.
He got into a very gentle pace, in and back, in and back, until your toes were curling and you were starting to see stars, “Fuck! Daddy!”
Harry stayed silent behind you as he worked himself in, rolling gentle, easy, and cautious thrusts as his face twisted up in ecstasy. He didn’t want to hurt you. He would allow himself to fuck you harder after a few tries, but this first time he was going to be a gentleman with your tight hole.
You reached between your legs and began to toggle at your nub and you choked out a gasp as you whined, “It feels so fucking good…”
Harry could hear the way your words came out shaky, like you were crying but he was quite in tune with your movements and you were very obviously enjoying every thrust he issued. Not to mention how you were already rubbing your clit and your legs were starting to shake. All good signs.
Harry’s groans were timed with his thrusts and they grew deeper and louder as he got nearer to his release. He was already throbbing and twitching and he was positive he was smearing precome inside of you as his balls tightened.
But then suddenly you howled as your muscles tensed and tears fell from your eyes. You could hardly maintain control of your limbs as you shook and convulsed.
Harry stopped his movements as he watched you fall apart and it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. Watching you lose it as you rubbed your clit and cried, his cock lodged into your ass, your thighs quivering… But he gulped down his instinct to pump his come into you. He wasn’t sure if you were okay with that or not. He was sure you wouldn’t mind but it hadn’t been discussed prior so he’d hold off til you gave him permission. Coming inside of your bum would be a bit of a different experience than it was in your pussy.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He had to will away his strong urge as you slowly calmed and moved your hand away from your bundle of nerves. But the moment he could tell you were good, he pulled out and pumped his cock in his hand, spurting come on your ass and your back as he coughed out a loud moan that filled the room.
You turned to watch him in his orgasm as you felt his warm cum spray over your skin. His chest was flushed and his strong biceps and triceps were flexing as he stroked his long shaft. Beautiful in every way.
When he opened his eyes and looked at you he was flushed and panting and as sexy as anything you’d ever seen. You pushed yourself up to your knees and turned to him, pulling him down to your mouth.
You were still a little shaky as you clung to the back of his neck and he puffed a laugh against your lips when he rubbed his hands up your sides and then down to your ass when he dredged his fingers through his come.
You laughed with him but he continued kissing you anyway, despite the mess he’d made and the sticky come all over his fingers and your back. The kiss was hot and soft all at the same time.
Those deep and viscous feelings were coming to the surface again. Your heart pounded heavy in your chest as your brain swirled with thoughts of only Harry. Of him being yours and you being his. Of sweet things and real emotions you could finally express freely. Because you knew he felt it too.
“Well, that was fun. Don’t think I expected this day to turn out so perfectly,” he grinned as he parted from the kiss.
You smoothed your hands to his jaw and looked at him dreamily, “Better than I imagined. So much better. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Harry’s nose poked into yours, “Baby, I’m glad I’m here too. I do have one thing I need to say, though.”
Your heart dropped for a half second as you pulled away and looked into his eyes, unsure of what he needed to say.
“Be my girlfriend?”
You sputtered out a laugh of disbelief, “Of course. Figured that was already established.”
The right side of Harry’s lip quirked up, “Well it certainly is now. Plus now I can tell everyone you’re my girlfriend if we make it official.”
You ran your hands over his strong pecs and nodded, “Yeah? You wanna tell everyone?” You took one of his hands and brought it up to your mouth as you proceeded to lick his come from his fingers.
Harry let out a shallow laugh before he groaned as he watched you, “I am definitely telling everyone you’re my girlfriend.”
You smiled as you ran your tongue over his knuckles and looked up at him, “I like the sound of that, Daddy.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the series! 💕 xoxo
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moonchildstyles · 2 days
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Do you think you could write a blurb where witch! Harry is finally comfortable w Mitch and his friends so one night when they’re all out together Including Sarah and y/n, Harry doesn’t really pay as much attention to y/n as he usually does, and y/n becomes more clingy than usual and it makes Harry happy 🥺🥺
this is a little different than the exact request but I hope you enjoy!! thank you for sending this in:)
wordcount: 4k+
—————
Fiddling with his fingers in his lap, Harry watched as (Y/N) readied herself at her vanity. He wanted to be distracted by the sweeps of cosmetics across her skin or the flutter of her lashes as she dusted sparkles over her eyes, but he knew it was a losing battle. He'd already spent all of his distractions when he conjured up his outfit and fussed over his own hair in the mirror. His nervous hands had prepped him too early, leaving him with way more time available than he needed. 
"You know," (Y/N) started, catching his gaze in the reflection, "we don't have to go tonight if you don't want to. We can stay here and relax or go back to yours and cuddle with the girls. I don't mind." 
There was a split second where he considered her offer, folding his bottom lip between his teeth before he thought better of his indecision. (Y/N) had agreed to these plans earlier in the week and was almost done with her makeup already, there was no way he was going to let her cancel on his account. 
"No, I want to go," he insisted, matching her gaze though he figured he looked about as convincing as he felt, "I know I'll have fun, 's jus'... You know." 
A gentle smile touched the corners of his lover's lips. "I know," she assured, "We'll have fun once we get out there. This is the hard part." 
He gave a quiet nod in agreement. It was easier to stay home with her and luxuriate in the familiar, but he was trying to grow himself into a member of the world once more. Besides, Sarah's boyfriend, Mitch, was supposed to be there tonight with a couple of the others he'd met a few months back. As long as he found his space in that group again, he'd be able to make it through. 
Worst case scenario, he'd cling to (Y/N), say the word, and they'd be on their way home before he had a chance to crawl out of his skin. 
This was going to be good for him, he reminded himself as he continued watching (Y/N) through the mirror. 
He was going to have fun tonight. Probably.
—————
With his fingers laced between hers, Harry followed (Y/N) into the restaurant. The plan tonight was to go to dinner before heading to some of the bars downtown as some kind of informal celebration for Sarah's upcoming birthday. (Y/N) had gently let Sarah and Mitch know to go ahead without her and Harry (it was a small ruse to allow her some extra time to get ready and Harry an extra moment in the quiet apartment before braving the world), leaving them to be one of the last to arrive. 
The restaurant was loud and crowded, tables packed with chairs and bubbly patrons. The bar was busy, both servers and guests seated on the stools keeping the bartenders busy with plenty of orders. Fresh pizzas were being fired in the brick oven that worked as the centerpiece of the establishment, though there were plenty of spicy, greasy bar staples flooding out of the kitchen. 
As much as Harry worried over these kinds of outings, still on unsure footing when it came to the world outside of his bubble, the energy of this place fed him. Though it was a different kind of feeling compared to the hazy parties of the seventies that he was so ingrained in, this wasn't that far off from what he had been so accustomed to in the past (there were decidedly less drugs here, and more decency but that's besides the point). He could feel eyes trailing after him when he walked past, his stride bringing attention to the glimmering threads of his clothing and the woman on his arm. 
"Hey, guys!" (Y/N) greeted as they approached the table in the back the hostess had directed them to. On either side of the long table, faces turned to the sound of (Y/N)'s voice. Harry recognized the majority of them, though there were a few unfamiliar faces that he was both eager and nervous to meet. 
"You made it!" Sarah cheered, Mitch at her side with his own usually stoic features shifting into a smile when he caught Harry's eye. 
"Yeah, sorry," (Y/N) started, leading Harry down to the two free spots at the end of the bench seating, across from Mitch and Sarah and next to a familiar head of bleached hair he'd met at the concert night a few months ago. "The Uber took the weirdest way, and then hit traffic. I don't know what he was trying to do." 
Sarah shrugged and rolled her eyes as if this was a story she'd lived through just as many times herself. 
(Y/N) took the spot next to the semi-unfamiliar couple, leaving Harry on the very end of the bench without any extra neighbors. She and Sarah took up another avenue of conversation, others beginning to jump in now that the party could truly start with all guests in attendance. He held her hand tight in his lap, his attention drifting this way and that as more and more color and noise and new caught his eye. 
"Have you ever been here before, Harry?" Mitch asked from across the table, centering his wandering attention. 
"No, this is m'first time," Harry offered, a small smile on his lips. He felt a bit better knowing that Mitch was here—next to (Y/N), he was one of the only people he felt comfortable with. 
"Really?" Mitch sounded, his brows rising, "Don't you work around here, now? At that one music store?" 
Harry eagerly nodded to the question. He loved talking about his job—he loved spending so much time around music and the extra money that came with it was very exciting.
"I do, yeah," he smiled, "Have y'ever been there before? You'd love it." 
Mitch matched Harry's smile with his own grin, taking a sip from his drink with a slow shake of his head. "I haven't, but I might have to come see you sometime. Friends and family discount, right?"
Letting out a laugh, Harry nodded his head. He really hoped Mitch meant it when he said he'd come visit—he wasn't sure how to add discounts yet to the register, but he'd make sure his friend got whatever he wanted when he came by. 
As Mitch started on a new avenue of conversation, Harry relaxed further the longer the night went on, feeling less and less of the anxiety that he left the house with. He felt thoroughly distracted—comfortable, even, when the semi-familiar man (Kid, he thinks was their nickname) on (Y/N)'s other side piped into his and Mitch's conversation. The edge he had been standing on slowly dulled until he was laughing loudly and settling into his skin the way he used to back in the day. 
Once ordered, drinks and dinner were delivered to the table. Honestly, Harry almost wanted to speed through his meal knowing that the rest of the plans for the night were to head to a bar down the plaza, leaving more room to hang out with his friends. He was having too much fun to waste time like this. Under the table, (Y/N)'s hand was settled on his thigh, turning palm up once he attempted to wiggle his fingers between hers. 
Looking up at her, his hand loaded with a slice of plain cheese pizza, he saw her looking at him with a raised brow. 
"Feeling better?" she murmured to him, the others around them distracted by their own food to listen in. 
A small smile was on Harry's lips as he nodded his head. "Yeah, a lot. I forget how nice everyone is." 
"And, how much they like you," (Y/N) added, "I'm happy you're feeling better, though. Do you still want to go to the bars with everyone after?" His eager nod had to be enough of an answer with the way she let out a huff of laughter, her hand squeezing his under the table. "Okay," she smiled, "Just wanted to double check." 
Tipping her chin, (Y/N) puckered her lips just enough to draw him in for a short kiss. Harry felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, even if the contact was nothing more than a small peck on his mouth. The vine tethering the chambers of his heart to hers pulsed, urging him to stay close to her. 
"Thank you," he murmured, blinking up at her through the fan of his lashes. 
"For what?" she asked, nudging him, their private moment drawing on long enough to catch the attention of Sarah across the table. Her eyes softened as she glanced at them.
"Taking me tonight," he answered, keeping his voice low. If Sarah could watch, he just hoped she couldn't hear every word. "I know 'm a lot sometimes—thank you for still wanting to bring me even if I wasn't sure." 
She tipped her head, eyes fond and tender to match the smile on her lips. "Of course, H. You don't really have much of a choice, though—you're my soulmate, you pretty much have to come with me."
He knew she was trying to joke with him, get him to laugh the same way she realized her own plume of laughter, but he liked hearing her call him her soulmate to do anything more than surge forward for another kiss. 
————— 
(Y/N) with Sarah and some of the other women at her side, didn't take much time before getting their first round of drinks to indulge in the dance floor of the bar, cheering in celebration of Sarah's birthday. Harry, along with Mitch and the rest of the few that didn't want to brave the sweaty congregation all hung back, drinks in hand with a table luckily claimed along the back of the bar. 
More often than not, he had his eyes on (Y/N), watching her like she was a bubble of sunshine in the middle of the dance floor. He could hear her laughter, see her dancing with her friends, and practically feel the beam of her happiness even sitting so far off. Mitch was much like him, watching his own girlfriend as she celebrated her birthday, a fond smile on his lips. 
The third time Harry caught him gazing with hearts in his eyes towards Sarah and the bobbing ponytail on her head, he asked, "How long have y'and Sarah been together?" 
Mitch blinked his eyes away from the dance floor, Kid at his side jostling him as he laughed with his own companion. "Hm?" Mitch hummed, taking a sip from his beer as he plugged into the moment once more. 
Harry knew the feeling well: what it was like to forget the rest of the details around him when he had his eyes on his sunshine. Chin in his palm with his elbow resting on the table, Harry let a small smile sit on his lips. "I asked how long you and Sarah have been together." 
"Oh, sorry," Mitch offered, sheepishly clearing his throat, "We've been together for a little over three years, now." 
"Wow," Harry awed, the romantic inside him sinking at the thought of having that much time with (Y/N) at his side. "How did y'meet?" 
Only having time to open his mouth to take in a breath before his story, Mitch was cut off when Kid butted in. His eyes were a bit glassy thanks to the alcohol in his system, but his words were clear when he interjected: "I set them up!" 
Kid's partner—Jenny—laughed at his insistence, especially when Mitch rolled his eyes though he couldn't completely stave off the amusement on his features. 
"Barely," Mitch countered, voice a petulant mumble when he looked back at Harry, "He just happened to know the both of us, but he didn't set us up." 
"Was I not the one that invited both of you to my birthday party?" 
Harry sat back, drink in hand, as he watched the light-hearted argument. It felt nice to be sitting among friends for the first time in decades, learning tidbits about their lives and finding where he fit in within the dynamic. (Y/N) was his heart and soul, everything that made his existence feel purposeful, but this was a facet of his life he hadn't realized he was craving so badly until it was offered to him. 
"Harry, don't you think that qualifies as a set up?" 
Perking up at the sound of his name, he plugged into the conversation once more, only to have three pairs of eyes waiting on him. Both Jenny and Mitch held amusement in their gazes though Kid seemed terribly serious with his request for backup.
Unable to help himself, Harry had to prod. 
"Well," he started, breathing in a sigh as he laid his forearms out on the table, "How long after your birthday did they go on a real date?" 
It was the chatter that started almost immediately after he finished speaking that had Harry smiling into the rim of his own cup, pretending to sip as he took it all in. 
—————
With sweat sticking her baby hairs to her temples and slicking down her back, (Y/N) practically stumbled after Sarah as they drifted from the dance floor. The few others that had paraded out there with them stayed behind for the rest of the song, while Sarah had insisted that she needed another drink before she could dance any longer. Sweaty hands pressed palm to palm, (Y/N) followed her out in the semi-fresh air of the rest of the bar now that they weren't tucked between the rest of the patrons on the dance floor. It was suddenly sobering to be out of the crowd, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling the effects of the cocktail from dinner and the celebratory shots they took once stepping into the bar. 
With Sarah leading her to the bar, (Y/N) traced her eyes through the space, knowing Harry was around somewhere but she was a touch too intoxicated to rely on the tether between them. She found him, a bright sunshiney yellow spot, tucked at the end of the booth next to Mitch with Jenny and Kid laughing along to whatever it was that Harry was saying. It was silly to her, as she took in the moment, just how nervous he had been before leaving, worrying over not fitting in, doing nothing but clinging to her side, not having fun, to now being the center of attention. It was just as she figured it would be—no one was immune to his presence. 
Tugging her forward, (Y/N) went along with Sarah to the bar until they had fought through the two-deep crowd to the counter. Sarah didn't need to ask what she wanted, instead slurring out an order of two fruity cocktails with a drunken declaration that it was her birthday. Over her shoulder, (Y/N) could see the bartender laughing at Sarah's excitement, though that information would surely garner them a discount anyway. 
Once their drinks were in hand, Sarah didn't waste time before putting the straw between her lips and gulping down the drink. "Let's go say hi, then we'll go back!" she shouted over the music after taking down the mouthful of juice and vodka, gesturing towards their claimed table with the rest of their party. 
Nodding with her own straw between her lips, (Y/N) was more than happy to take a break and see her soulmate before heading back into the sweaty throng of people. 
It took a bit of maneuvering, but making it to the table was quick enough and well worth the small spill she made on her shoes when she saw Harry's face light up when he caught sight of her. Whatever story he had been in the middle was put on pause when the pair of them made it to the table, Harry opening his arms for her to fall into. Mitch as well looked amused to see his mumbling girlfriend, a familiar glimmer in his eyes when he took her in. 
"Hi, you," Harry murmured, taking a hold of (Y/N)'s drink and setting it on the stable table. "How are y'feeling, sunshine?" 
"I'm good," she smiled, languidly draping her arms over his shoulders as she fought the urge to climb on his lap instead, "Kind of drunk, I think, though. Are you having fun?" 
Dimples deep in his cheeks, dots of glitter shimmering on his cheekbones, he looked to her with tenderness coating his gaze. "'M having a lot of fun, sunshine. Are you?" 
"Mhm," she hummed, unable to hold back from pressing a clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth, "But I feel like I've barely seen you tonight. You said you were gonna come dance with me." 
"Sorry, love," he crooned, smiling despite the pout on her own lips, "Jus' got a little distracted, but you know 'm right here if y'need me." 
"Yeah," she sighed, drooping like some long-suffering spouse, "But, I've missed my soulmate—I know you're right here, but it's not the same. You're too busy with your friends." 
Her petulance only pulled a plume of laughter from him, even if there was something decidedly softer than before in his eyes. "You're still m'best friend, love, you know that. Jus' wanted to let y'have your fun, then I was going to bother y'the rest of the night." 
"You never bother me," she countered, canting her head.
It was Harry's turn to tip his chin and press a kiss to her lips, though this contact was much more coordinated than her previous attempt. (Y/N) sunk into the contact, allowing Harry to hold her steady just before there was a call of her name from Sarah. 
"Hm?" she asked, pulling away from Harry with her lipgloss surely missing from her mouth though it now sparkled on Harry's. 
"We need to go back," she bubbled, taking her half-finished drink with Mitch looking on with a poorly hidden smile. "Listen to the song! We need to go out there!" 
Tuning into the moment once more, (Y/N) took note of the bright notes filtering through the bar. It took only a quick look over her shoulder to see the familiar bobbing heads of the friends they had left behind to get their drinks, one of the girls catching sight of Sarah and beckoning them back to the floor. 
"Go have fun, sunshine," Harry murmured, giving her a pat on the small of her back as if to send her off. 
That seemed to be all the encouragement needed for Sarah to grab a hold of (Y/N)'s hand and take her back towards the floor. Drink in hand, (Y/N) made a point to look back to Harry and give him a small wave goodbye for the moment. His smile only widened when she did. 
—————
"I love you." 
Despite the sweet declaration, Harry couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from his chest. He tightened his grip on (Y/N) as she draped herself over him in the backseat of their Uber (a concept he thoroughly struggled with until Mitch helped him both understand it as well as order one). 
"I love you too, sunshine," Harry murmured back for the third time in the span of five minutes. 
"Nooo," she moaned, curling into him as if she weren't practically on his lap already, "You don't get it, H. I love you—like, love you." 
His heart warmed even when she slurred over her words, the night dancing and drinking catching up to her finally. He wondered what their driver thought, listening into this drunken conversation. 
"I love love you, too, (Y/N). I—" 
"Why would you say that to me?" she cried, cutting him off drawing away from him with offense written all over her features. 
Glancing at the rearview mirror, Harry caught their driver attempting to hold back her smile before focusing back on the road before her. As a quiet favor, she turned up the radio just a hair more, an offer of privacy. 
"Why would I say what?" Harry crooned, unsure of how his love for her could cause her to feel so upset. 
"You called me by my name. Why would you do that? You never call me by my name, are you mad at me?" 
It took all he had in him to keep from laughing at her distress. He hadn't meant to upset her, he had hoped by saying her name she would see he was just as serious as she was. His arm looped around her middle kept her steady at his side. 
"Of course, 'm not mad at you, love," he cooed, erring on the side of caution with his voice terribly gentle, "Jus' wasn't thinking, I guess. I love love you, sunshine." 
His amendment seemed to be just enough to placate (Y/N) once more, drawing him into her with a blissed smile. 
"I love you more than anything, honey," she told him once more, back on track with her declarations, "I don't tell you enough, but I do. You're my favorite person in the whole world, and it's crazy that we could've never met if you didn't decide to live up in the mountain and do all your witchy stuff and—" 
"Oh, love," Harry cut her off before she could say much more about whatever witchy stuff he's got up to. Even with that, hearing her say she loves him more than anything in the world was enough to have his skin pinkening and warming. "You're my favorite person, you know that. Love you, so much." 
Before (Y/N) could try to argue anymore, declare her love for him to be the biggest (which was not true, because he loved her more), the car came to a stop at (Y/N)'s apartment building. 
"Here you are," their driver declared, peeking through the rearview mirror.
"Thank you," Harry smiled, the curl widening when (Y/N) seconded him with a bright chirping Mhm! 
"You're welcome," their driver smiled, "Have a nice rest of your night, you two." 
"We will!" (Y/N) brightly answered, struggling to get her seatbelt off. 
After helping her out, Harry collected (Y/N) in his arms and kept her steady when she stepped out on the sidewalk. She gave a final wave to their driver before clinging to Harry as he led her towards the building. 
"I had so much fun tonight, Harry," (Y/N) drawled, hanging off of him as he entered all the codes to get inside the building, her eyes warming the line of his profile. "Thank you for coming with me and taking care of me." 
"Thank you for bringing me with you," he said, parroting the sentiment from dinner. 
As he listened into her babblings as he took her up to her apartment, Harry felt his heart bloom like the petals in his garden. He'd had a perfect night, truthfully. While these were still people he had met through (Y/N), it didn't feel like he had spent the night with people putting up with him because of who his soulmate was. He felt like he had spent the night with his own friends, the kind that would have been a part of his hazy memories from the seventies, full of laughter and silly conversation. 
All for him to end the night with the love of his life. 
"I had a lot of fun tonight too, sunshine," he crooned to her, getting her safe inside the apartment once more. "I love you." 
"But, Harry, you don't get it." 
He could only laugh as he led her to her bedroom. He knew she would be arguing with him over the rest of the night.
Harry couldn't be happier.
—————
thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas of your own please send them in!!
405 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 3 days
Text
daisy 3 - the epilogue (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
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the final part!! sorry it took forever for me to finish this series. I really hope you guys enjoyed it and like this little part that wraps everything up :)
part one | part two
word count: 2.9k
content warnings: inappropriate relationship, minor age gap (4 years), not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N and Harry shift into a relationship — or what feels like one — faster than either could have ever anticipated. 
In hindsight, Y/N supposes it makes sense. They’d been suppressing romantic and intimate feelings for each other and now that it’d all come to a peak (no pun intended), tangled between Y/N’s cotton sheets, it felt oddly… natural.
The entire thing made her warm with happiness, a busy kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering through her tummy every time she even thought of waking up next to Harry. They hadn’t had another sleepover since that evening, and admittedly, she’d been a bit scared that she would wake up to rushed apologies and explanations of “I need to get out of here, this was a mistake”, but it had been quite the opposite. 
The following morning, when her sleepy eyes cracked open, she felt a warm weight pressed up against her back. It took her a moment to come to, but when she did, she remembered the strenuous activities from the night prior, and blushed and rolled over to find the object of her affection waking up from his own deep sleep. 
“Morning,” he’d croaked before smiling through puffy eyes. “Can I make you breakfast?”
That had been two weeks ago, and it seemed like the cotton candy cloud they were floating on had yet to touch the ground.
It went without saying that they were still extremely careful on campus — however, now that the temperatures were shifting into a more comfortable number, jackets were being shed and bright tulip bulbs and crocuses were beginning to pop up from the moist soil. They were telltale signs that spring was steadily bolting their way, which meant that the end of the semester was, too. Between the hopeful weather and the pastel-hued beginnings of a relationship between the two, it was enough to pull Y/N from the inklings of her seasonal depression and Harry from his own existential dread. 
In short: It was good. Things were finally good, even if they hadn’t talked things through or officially decided on what they were doing yet. Y/N thinks she was okay with that, as long as it meant she was on the receiving end of Harry’s gentle kisses or his sweet goodnight texts. 
Yeah. She could most definitely live with that.
. . .
“I found a kitten last night.”
The words make Y/N blink her eyes open. Their lips hadn’t even been fully disconnected by the time his words were ghosting over the seam of her mouth, an apparent eagerness to verbalize this new development from the past 24 hours. 
“Oh?” Y/N asks with a quirked brow, fingertips focused on the feeling of his soft knit cardigan. 
“When I was taking the garbage out,” he quickly explains. “She was hiding behind the trash cans.”
“She?”
Harry shifts from foot to foot and Y/N immediately identifies his body language as nervousness — he’s nervous to tell her about this cat he found near his building complex, and the thought, for some reason, makes her body bubble with giggles. 
“I looked to see if she had a collar or tag or anything and she doesn’t. I took her in and washed her off. She was starving, but I was thinking of taking her to the vet when I leave campus today.”
Y/N hums, “Well if she was starving and dirty, it’s a good thing she found you.”
A pinkish flush flowers over Harry’s cheeks and he shrugs his shoulders. “The vet in town is always swamped with college kids impulsively adopting animals. I was thinking of taking her to the one a bit further away.”
“Oh, that’s smart,” Y/N nods, tugging the strap of her tote bag a little closer to her body. Harry normally isn’t so slow in his goodbyes to her, and she really needs to get to the library to work on an essay outline. 
“Will you come with me?”
Her eyebrows nearly fly up to the ceiling. They’ve never done anything in public together — not since they saw each other at Target a few months back, and that doesn’t even count because they weren’t seeing each other back then. It was something that made Y/N toss and turn at night. She knew that in the eyes of the university, their relationship was forbidden — neither of them were that dim to understand that — but in any other context, there was no reason why a couple of their age couldn’t be together. It sometimes made her wish that they did meet under different circumstances, like at a bar or even swiping right on a dating app. 
“I was thinking maybe you could stay over afterwards, because the only appointment they had available for this evening was at 7 pm and I’m not sure how late we would get back,” Harry tacks on, and the addition only makes her stomach continue to swarm with nervous butterflies. “You can say no. I just thought it would be nice. A stay-at-home date, maybe.”
She’s nodding like a robot before her brain even allows her the opportunity to think it over. And yeah, call her childish, maybe, but the thought of him calling it a date — she supposes this is the closest they can get to one in the near future — makes her heart skip a beat.
“That does sound nice,” she agrees with a smile. “Do you want to pick me up at 6? I’ll… I can pack a bag and we’ll go from the vet to yours later on?”
He nods, mirroring her own enthusiastic grin. “Okay.”
. . .
After a marathon at the library (she was in the beginning stages of doing research on a comparative essay on Emily Brontë’s work), Y/N trekked back to her apartment, stuffed some food down her throat, showered, and packed a bag for Harry’s. 
She was a little nervous — okay, maybe fairly nervous, considering the last time they did anything close to this, it had all been very spur of the moment. Things weren’t awkward because of it (it was the opposite, actually), but the rest of their relationship had been spent in Harry’s tiny office. They played footsies while they graded, ordered takeout to the English building while they spoke about their days, and snuck loved-up smiles when they passed each other on campus, but this felt more… finite, maybe. Real. Like they could exist outside the confines of their university.
Harry texts her when he’s on his way and then when he’s downstairs at 6 o’clock on the dot (here xx, which makes Y/N’s heart flutter). She has her usual purse on one shoulder and a tote bag on the other, where she’s packed pajamas for the night, an outfit for tomorrow, and all of her toiletries. She swallows as she locks the front door and turns to see the familiar navy sedan parked right outside, biting her lip when she sees the curly haired brunette in the driver’s seat. 
“Hey,” he greets the second she gets in the car. She flashes him a smile, though his own facial expression exudes an air of nervousness, “Do you know much about cats?” 
“Um, my sister brought a stray in when we were kids. We only kept her for a few days, but I guess I know a little.”
Harry nods, “I’m scared she’s anxious back there. I tried to make the carrier as comfortable as possible for her, but she’s probably nervous, right? She’s in a weird guy’s car and she doesn’t know where she’s going.”
Y/N breathes out a laugh as she twists her body to look in the backseat. Low and behold, there’s a brand new carrier with a small kitten inside. She coos at its salt and pepper fur as she unlocks the gate, gently reaching in to grab the cat. She can’t be larger than a few pounds, and Harry’s right about her being nervous — she’s trembling, whether it be from the confusion of the situation or an issue the vet will likely tell them about. 
“Here, I’ll hold her for the ride,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of her head, “She just needs some love, hm?” 
“She kept slipping on the hardwood floors in my apartment last night. I felt so bad.” Harry replies as he puts the car in drive, a slight pout on his lips. Y/N laughs lightly at the thought, stroking her forefinger over the kitten’s back. 
“Poor baby,” she glances up at Harry, blinking when she realizes he’d been glimpsing down between them and the road, “Did you think of any names for her?”
He coughs and flicks his right signal on, “Um, yeah. I thought of a few. Haven’t really decided on anything yet, though. I guess it depends on whether or not the vet thinks it’s a good idea to keep her.”
“Sure,” Y/N hums, though she can already tell from her brief knowledge of pets that the likelihood of this little kitten having a home is slim. She’s tiny and underweight and doesn’t have a collar, which means she probably isn’t chipped, either. “I think you’d do well as a cat dad. Maybe you can adopt if this little one doesn’t work out.”
“You think so?”
A small smile cracks at the edges of Y/N lips. It’s apparent that Harry’s scared and needs some sort of reassurance from someone, and she’s happy to be the provider. “Of course I do. I think you have a lot of love to give, Harry.”
She watches as his throat bobs before his own lips form a gentle smile. 
“Yeah. I think I do, too.” 
He reaches over and carefully intertwines their fingers together. When she gives his hand a small squeeze, she thinks she sees his body visibly relax. 
. . .
As Y/N anticipated, the kitten Harry found doesn’t belong to anyone. 
The vet does a thorough check-up and the results are relatively positive; she’s just on the malnourished side and will need a lot of food, love, and care to get her to a place where she’s considered to be healthy. She advises Harry to bring the cat back in a month to do another weigh-in just to make sure her diet is nutritionally-dense enough, and he has no problem agreeing. 
Y/N scoops the kitten up and gently scratches and pets at the back of her head as Harry talks to the receptionist, supplying information about his name and phone number for the follow-up appointment. It’s only when he’s asked for the kitten’s name that he somewhat freezes. Y/N peers up, assuming he’s just nervous because he hasn’t settled on anything yet. It’s understandable, she supposes — if her parents had let her and her sister keep that kitten from their childhood, they probably would have named it “Princess Muffins” or “Little Lady Kisses”, which Y/N just thinks is embarrassing for the cat.
“Ophelia,” he murmurs lowly before coughing into his hand. The receptionist doesn’t question it as she quickly types it in, but it makes Y/N’s eyebrows raise. She continues scratching at Harry’s newly named cat, using her blunt fingernails to slowly rub the patches of fur behind her ears. She’s not sure if she’s being too fussy and self-centered, but if she remembers correctly, the first time she and Harry met, they talked about how Ophelia from Hamlet was a big inspiration for Y/N’s capstone project. She shrugs it off, especially when they’re done at the vet and they step into the low light of the evening. Silently, they walk side-by-side and back to Harry’s car. 
Daylight savings, despite being a stupid concept, arrived just a few weeks prior, which means they’re now privy to a few more hours of daylight before night stretches over the sky. It’s nice — spring hasn’t completely sprung up yet, but there are little reminders here and there that it’s coming. It isn’t freezing tonight but there’s a slight chill in the air, so both she and Harry are bundled up beneath cozy crewneck sweatshirts. He pulls the sleeves of his over his knuckles and the small action makes Y/N’s heart squeeze.
“Are you fine to hold her on the drive back?” Harry asks once they’re back in his car. She nods happily, content with having a small, cuddly kitten curl up on her lap for the next 30 minutes. The evening sunlight bathes the interior of the vehicle as Harry pulls out of his parking spot, flicking on his left blinker to take them back to his place. 
“D’you wanna get Thai for dinner?” Y/N asks, suppressing a yawn as she turns her head to look at the male beside her. Again, she watches as his muscles melt a bit, less rigid than they were just a moment or two before, and a smile edges at his lips as he nods his head. 
“That sounds great. Could go for some pad thai.”
“Mm, me too,” she agrees, taking her phone out to pull up the ordering app, “Can we split some dumplings, too?”
“I’d love that.”
She smiles to herself and they chat aimlessly and quietly about their respective orders, each of them deciding on noodle dishes (Harry opts for a veggie-only option while Y/N picks shrimp) and an order of mushroom dumplings. She asks if he’s vegetarian or trying to be — she presumes it’d be a rather important thing to know about the person she’s… dating? Casually seeing? What were they doing? — but he shrugs noncommittally, as he does for many questions she asks. It’s almost as if he’s not used to people asking him about his likes and preferences, and she thinks that’s dumb. She wants to know everything there is to know about him. 
When she prods him about his vegetable forward habits, he finally explains that no, he’s not a vegetarian, but he likes to eat meat-free when he can. This prompts her to ask him about his other tastes: His favorite ice cream flavor (Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, which she approves of), his favorite flowers (pink tulips because his mom used to grow them), and his go-to drink when he goes out (“I never go out, I’m an old man, but I am partial to a tequila soda”). 
Her time playing 20 Questions is finally up after he picks up their food and they arrive back at his place. By now, the sun has fully retreated and Ophelia is sound asleep in Y/N’s lap. When he puts the car in park, he stops her before they go inside. 
“Why are you asking me all these things?” he asks with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. She resists the urge to reach out and smooth it with her thumb.
“I just wanna know. I’m curious.” she replies, shrugging.
“You wanna know about the first album I ever bought and how old I was when I had my first kiss?”
“Of course I do,” she pauses, confused. “Why? Do you not want me to know those things?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. I just… I don’t know. I’m surprised.”
“I don’t know how much more forward I can be with my feelings,” she says softly, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I know this is technically against the rules or whatever, but… I like you. You know that, right? That what I feel for you goes beyond sex and some silly fantasy.”
She watches as he swallows tightly. 
“I like you too,” he murmurs, reaching out to take her free hand into his. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities get the best of me but it’s just… odd, I guess, to imagine that you really, truly like me. I sound like a middle schooler, god—”
“Don’t do that.” she quickly shakes her head. If it weren’t for Ophelia still perched atop her thighs, she’d reach forward and take his face between her hands. “Don’t belittle yourself. I like you, Harry. So much that I’m willing to risk my status as a student. You get that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he nods swiftly, “And you understand what I’m risking, right?”
It’s not meant to be a one-up — it’s genuine and it’s real, and she nods her head and swallows the small lump of tears that’s developed in her throat. It’s the reality of their relationship and it’s necessary to address, especially if either one of them wants to go any further. 
With Harry, he has more to lose. He’d be fired, of course, but his degrees could be taken into question, too. His license as a professor. Everything he’s worked for, all potentially wasted on Y/N.
It’s a heavy weight for her to wear.
But, as if he can read her mind (or maybe he can just read her facial expression), he gives her hand a squeeze. 
“And you’re more than worth it, Y/N.” he says with soft eyes. 
“Will you be my boyfriend?” she blurts out without thinking. Her eyes immediately widen while Harry’s crease with happiness, and she’d contemplate taking back if not for the massive grin that stretches across his face. 
“Truly, I thought you’d never ask,” he replies cheekily, and Y/N responds with a gentle swat to the chest. He laughs. “I did name my cat after you, after all.”
. . .
That night, when Harry has Ophelia tucked into one side and Y/N into the other, and she’s half-asleep as they watch another episode of whatever docuseries she convinced him to turn on, after they’ve eaten themselves into a Thai food coma and talked about the latest books they’ve read with promises to exchange them, he realizes he’s never been so happy in his life. 
Y/N can comfortably say the same. 
376 notes · View notes
justlemmeadoreyou · 2 days
Text
Unrequited
(the second part to unfulfilled)
(i still don't think y'all will like this, but 🥺🥺)
Summary: Harry invites you to a party, and something goes wrong. He blames himself for it, but then something unexpected happens.
Words: 2.7k
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, intoxicants, kissing, fluff.
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“Hey, you wanna come to the party tonight?” Harry asked you, smiling.
You looked around, not believing that he was asking you, of all people. He saw you looking around, and said, “What?”
“You’re asking me?” you answered.
“Yeah.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. You wanna come or not?”
You stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to burst out into laughter, and tell you that he was joking, it was all a silly prank. But, he didn’t.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, y/n. seriously. I'm asking you to come to a party with me tonight.”
“But-but no one ever asks me that. Like, ever.”
“Why?”
“I tell them not to…” you pout, and he presses his lips together.
"Come on, why not give it a shot?" Harry urged. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the idea of attending a party with Harry, someone who was way more confident and popular, and…extroverted, was exhilarating. But on the other hand, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place, like a puzzle piece that just didn't fit in.
"I...I don't know," you stammered, clutching onto the strap of your bag tightly. "I don't belong there?"
Harry's expression softened, and he stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. You'll fit right in, I promise. And besides, I'll be there with you the whole time."
His words were comforting, and you found yourself slowly nodding in agreement. Maybe this was an opportunity to step out of your comfort zone, to experience something new.
"Okay," you finally replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll go."
Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Great! You won't regret it, I promise."
As the evening approached, you found yourself growing increasingly nervous. You fussed over your outfit, second-guessing every choice you made. But despite your apprehension, you couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation building in your stomach. You hadn’t felt that in a while.
When Harry arrived to pick you up, you were greeted with a warm smile that instantly eased your nerves. As you made your way to the party together, he chatted animatedly, sharing stories and jokes that made you laugh until your sides hurt. He was fun to be with, and you both got along really well.
Upon reaching the bustling venue, the sound of music and laughter filled the air. Harry guided you through the crowd, introducing you to his friends with an easy charm that made you feel surprisingly at ease.
But as the night progressed, you found yourself retreating into the background, feeling increasingly self-conscious amidst the sea of confident faces. Everyone danced and drank with confidence, feeling lively and free. But you felt like you were trapped, and you envied every person who enjoyed themselves without a care in the world, and didn’t feel guilty afterwards. You clutched onto a plastic cup of beer, taking small sips and trying to stay there. You had no idea how you wound up in this corner, or where Harry went. He was supposed to be by your side the whole night, so where was he?
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Harry began to search for you, his concern growing with each passing minute. He navigated through the throngs of people, his eyes scanning the room until he stumbled upon a dimly lit alcove hidden from view.
There, sitting hunched over with a vacant expression, was you.
Harry's heart clenched at the sight, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Without a moment's hesitation, he made his way towards you, his footsteps audible as he got closer.
"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice laced with worry. "Are you okay?"
You looked up, your eyes glazed and unfocused, a wave of relief washing over Harry at the sight of your familiar face. As he got closer, he saw the worry in your expression, and it made him even more concerned.
"What happened?" he asked gently, crouching down beside you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "Did someone do something to you?"
"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the thumping music.
Harry glanced at you, concern etched across his features. "Are you okay, Y/N?"
You shook your head, your movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. "No, something's wrong. I need to leave."
Harry's brow furrowed with worry as he took in your disoriented state. "Okay, let's go," he said firmly, his hand reaching out to steady you.
But as you made your way towards the exit, Harry's suspicions were piqued. He noticed the way your steps faltered, the glassy look in your eyes, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. You weren’t yourself, and even if you didn’t drink often, it wouldn’t have been because of just a couple of beers.
"Wait," he said, his voice urgent. "Did you drink anything tonight?"
You frowned, trying to recall the events of the evening through the haze of confusion. "I...I don't remember," you admitted, your heart pounding with fear. Everything felt so big and loud, and you just wanted to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there.
Harry's expression darkened, anger flaring within him as he surveyed the chaotic scene around you. "Damn it," he muttered, his grip tightening on your arm. 
"I bet someone spiked your drink."
Fear gripped your chest, and you held onto Harry's arm, grateful for him being there for you.
"What do we do?" you whispered, your voice trembling, and you sighed loudly..
"We get you out of here, now," Harry replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Hold onto me, Y/N. I've got you."
With Harry's arm wrapped protectively around your waist, you stumbled towards the exit, your heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. Each step felt like an eternity as you fought to keep your wits about you, your mind racing with a million thoughts and fears.
As you got out of the ridiculously overcrowded place, you felt better. Air rushed into your lungs, fresh air–that hadn’t come out of somebody else’s mouth. He guided you to his car, and assured you he was sober.
“Promise?” you asked, looking up at him with doe, glassy eyes. He nodded, gripping your chin and mumbling, “promise”
Once inside, he wasted no time in starting the engine, his hands gripping the steering wheel  "Hang on, Y/N," he said firmly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I'll get you home safe, I promise."
Harry drove through the quiet streets, the weight of the situation pressed heavily on his shoulders. He stole glances at you through the mirror,, his heart sinking at the sight of your slumped form in the passenger seat, your eyes glazed with intoxication.
As the car rolled to a stop outside your dormitory, Harry turned to you, concerned. "We're here, Y/N," he said gently. 
You nodded weakly, your movements slow and unsteady as you struggled to gather your bearings. With Harry's help, you stumbled out of the car and towards the entrance of the building, your steps faltering with each passing moment.
As Harry guided you down the hallway towards your room, your steps wobbled with each movement, and you couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably at the slightest provocation.
"Hey, watch your step," Harry chuckled, trying to steady you as you stumbled over your own feet.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," you slurred, your words muffled by a fit of laughter. "I look like a drunk moron."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at your quip, shaking his head in amusement as he guided you towards your door. "Sure."
As Harry helped you into your room, you collapsed onto the bed with a dramatic flourish, your limbs splayed out in every direction as you let out a contented sigh.
"Ah, home sweet home," you declared, your voice tinged with merriment. "I think I might just live here forever."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle again, shaking his head in amusement as he watched you flop onto the mattress. "I think you've had enough excitement for one night, Y/N."
You pouted playfully, your bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "But the night is still young, Harry! We could have so much fun together."
Your demeanor had suddenly changed, from afraid and scared to carefree. The intoxicant that was added to your drink might be doing its work.
"I think we've had more than enough excitement for one night, let’s tuck you in" he replied, his tone teasing yet gentle.
As Harry tucked the blankets around you, you let out a contented sigh, your eyes drifting shut and becoming droopy.. "You're a good friend, Harry," you murmured, your words slurred with exhaustion. "The best."
Harry's heart swelled with affection at your words, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you drift off to sleep.
"Sleep tight, Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft with warmth.
As Harry finished tucking you into bed, he turned to leave, but before he could take a step, you reached out and grabbed his hand, your sudden touch sending a shiver through him.
"Harry," you whispered, your voice soft.
Harry turned back to face you, his heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in your gaze. "What is it, Y/N?"
Without warning, you pulled him towards you, your movements clumsy but filled with determination. Before Harry could react, you pressed your lips against his, the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated but filled with a raw intensity that took his breath away.
For a moment, Harry froze, his mind reeling with a whirlwind of emotions. He knew he should pull away, should put an end to this before things went too far. But as he felt the warmth of your lips against his, he couldn't deny the spark of desire that ignited within him, the longing that pulsed between them like a current of electricity. He had wanted this, maybe for far too long. But it was tucked away in a corner of his heart, and right now, it was exploding out like firecrackers.
But then, with a sudden surge of clarity, Harry pulled back, his hands gently but firmly pushing you away. "Y/N, we can't," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
You looked up at him, confusion in your eyes as you searched his for answers. "But why not?" you whispered, your voice filled with hurt.
Harry's heart ached at the pain in your gaze, but he knew he had to be honest with you, even if it hurt. "Because...because I can't do this to you, Y/N. You're not yourself right now, and I can't take advantage of that."
You stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in as realization dawned upon you. "I...I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to...I’m just–just stupid and–"
Harry reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender yet filled with sadness. "It's okay, Y/N. I know you didn't mean to. You’re really high and you should sleep"
You nodded once again, closing your eyes shut and pulling the blanket over you, suddenly feeling cold. He murmured good night, but you were already passed out.
He stood there for a while or two, watching as your mouth dropped open. Your face looked peaceful, and it gave reassurance to him. His heart was pounding in his chest since he found you at the party, and he kept blaming himself for all that happened.
But his heart was at ease now. You were safe, and sleeping beside him.
He couldn’t be happier
. . .
The next morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest, your mind clouded with confusion and regret. As you stumbled out of bed and got ready for class, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that you didn’t remember what happened last night.
Your steps were slow and hesitant as you made your way to the lecture hall, your heart pounding with anxiety. You were trying to replay all the moments of yesterday back and forth, but the last thing you remembered was drinking a beer and then going for another one, when you had seen 5 already filled cups kept in a tray. Without thinking, you went for that one, and you were now cursing yourself for it.
When you finally reached the classroom, you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone as you took your seat at the back of the room. You felt like a stranger in your own skin, the weight of guilt and shame bearing down on you.
As the minutes ticked by, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the lecture, your mind wandering back to the events of the party, precisely to those you didn’t remember. Harry was nowhere to be found, and you wondered if you had misbehaved towards him.
He must regret inviting you in the first place.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Harry entered the classroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, your face drawn and weary, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy you had exuded the night before.
"Hey, Y/N," Harry said softly, making his way towards you with a hopeful smile. "How are you feeling today?"
You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance, and forced a weak smile. "Hey, Harry. I'm...I'm okay, I guess."
Harry's smile faltered slightly at the hint of sadness in your voice, but he pushed aside his concerns, determined to lift your spirits. "That's good to hear. Listen, about last night..."
But before he could finish his sentence, the professor began the lecture, cutting off their conversation and leaving Harry feeling frustrated and disappointed. You let out a sigh of relief, because you didn’t have to hear about the horrible things you did last night, for an hour at least.
During class, Harry felt uneasy and unsure about where they stood. He kept looking at you, feeling worried when he saw you looking down.
As the lecture came to an end, Harry gathered his things and made his way towards you, 
"Y/N," he said softly again, "Can we talk for a minute?"
You looked up, nodding "Sure, Harry. What's up?"
Harry took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the right words. "I just wanted to say...about last night. You were perfect, Y/N. Nothing bad happened, okay?"
You frowned, confusion in your eyes as you tried to make sense of his words. "What do you mean, Harry? I don't remember much from last night."
Harry's heart sank at your admission, a pang of disappointment piercing through him like a knife. "It's...it's nothing, Y/N. Don't worry about it."
But despite his attempt to brush off the conversation, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling of sadness that lingered within him. He knew that he should be grateful that nothing bad had happened between you both, but deep down, he couldn't help but wish that you remembered the kiss you had shared, and the way you made his heart beat faster. He wished you remembered him driving you home, and then being silly around him.
“That’s a huge relief! Oof” 
You said after a while, trusting him on that. He wouldn’t lie to you, you were sure of that.
“Yeah” he replied, forcing a smile, because he was sad.
“Guess I’ll see you later?” you asked, and he nodded.
You collected your materials and stuffed them back into your bag. Checking your schedule, you made your way to your next class, leaving Harry and his thoughts alone.
"But I love you more than words can say,
I can't count the reasons I should stay,
One by one they all just fade away,
But I love you more than words can say."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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sykostyles · 1 day
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subject to change 1.1 (final)
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w/c: 6.3k summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late? part one
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a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!
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cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!
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Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.
He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.
Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.
You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.
It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.
Oh, a new post.
You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.
Interesting.
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Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.
You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 
You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 
You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.
“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.
Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.
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Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 
The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”
About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 
“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.
“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 
Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.
“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 
“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.
“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”
He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”
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Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.
“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.
“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.
“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.
“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 
You were born at night, but not last night.
“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 
“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.
“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”
“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”
“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”
“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.
“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.
“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 
“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.
“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.
“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.
“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 
“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.
“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 
“P-please, t-touch me.”
“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.
“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.
Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.
“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.
You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.
“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.
“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”
“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.
He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.
“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.
“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 
“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 
“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 
You nod. 
“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.
You smile. 
Big.
“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.
“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 
You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.
“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”
“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.
“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 
He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.
“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.
“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.
“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 
You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 
“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.
“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.
“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.
“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 
“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.
“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.
“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 
“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 
“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 
“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.
“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.
“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.
“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.
“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.
“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 
“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”
Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 
“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots. 
“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.
“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 
“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.
“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.
“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 
“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 
“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.
“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 
But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 
He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 
“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”
“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”
“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 
“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.
“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.
“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 
“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 
“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.
“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.
“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”
“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 
Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.
“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”
“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.
“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.
“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.
“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?” 
“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”
“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”
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The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.
He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.
“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.
“If I believe in love.”
“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.
“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 
There is none.
“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.
“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.
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c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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daisyblog · 15 hours
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Birthday Twin
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Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Harry welcome their baby girl into the world.
Warning: labour, delivery, child birth, gas and air
11th of April 2024
35 weeks and 5 days pregnant
The Tomlinson family had all travelled to Doncaster for a few days of celebrating YN turning thirty. 
“Your last couple of days of being twenty nine Kiddo!”. Louis gently ruffled YN’s hair as he walked by her in their grandparents kitchen. Both filling their plates with some more food from the buffet spread their Nan had made. 
“Don’t remind me!” YN groaned as she reached over and put some extra sandwiches on her plate. 
“Fookin’ ‘ell, is baby girl hungry tonight?”. Louis joked as he watched his sister continue to fill her plate that was already slightly full of food. 
YN laughed as she looked at her plate compared to Louis. “Your niece is a foodie, what can I say?”. She naturally ran her hand over her large bump. 
“Can I?” Louis gestured towards her tummy, his way of asking if he could touch. When YN nodded, Louis placed his hand over bump. “‘ello little one, are you gonna come and meet us soon?”. 
“You’re going to spoil her rotten aren’t you?”. YN couldn’t help but smile at the small interaction. She had witnessed her brother as a brother, dad and uncle already and she could tell how much love he already had for her little girl. 
“Uh obviously, I just hope she comes before tour starts again.” 
---
12th of April 2024
35 weeks 6 days pregnant 
8:30am
YN suddenly woke from small niggles in her lower stomach, something she had been experiencing for a few weeks. She tried to ignore the dull ache and go back to sleep, but after tossing and turning, she gave in and got up. 
As she entered the kitchen she noticed her grandmother sitting at the table with a cup of tea in her hand. “Morning my love, you’re awake early!”. 
YN began to make herself a cup of tea, as she sat beside Jen. “Morning Nan, yeah braxton hicks again!”. 
“You’ve been having them a lot haven’t you darling?”. Jen had a concerned look on her face as she watched her eldest granddaughter stir her tea. 
YN only shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently it’s normal at this stage, I just didn’t realise how painful they could be”. 
11:00am
As the morning went on YN noticed how the niggles only continued and become a tad more painful. But not wanting to draw attention or to cause everyone to worry, especially Harry, she suggested her and Harry take Teddy for a walk.
They were walking through the quiet field, Teddy running just a bit in front of them, when YN stopped suddenly and held her tummy as a sharp pain caught her off guard.
“What’s wrong babe? Are you alright?” Harry immediately went into panic mode, worry evident all over his face. His hand protectively wrapped around her smaller frame. 
“Yeah, just cramp that’s all”. YN noticed Harry’s worried look, his eyebrows in a tight frown and tried her best to hide how much pain she was really in. “I’m fine, it’s braxton hicks again.”. 
Although Harry wasn’t fully convinced, they continued their walk before heading back to the house. 
2:00pm 
Within a few hours, the pain had gotten worse with YN baring her weight on anyone or anything to try and ease the pain. It was when YN cried out in pain, as she grabbed onto Louis’ hand, that Harry decided to take matters into his own hands. 
“I’m phoning the hospital, this can’t just be braxton hicks!” Harry announced as he began to dial the number on his phone. 
“Harry’s right Tiny, you’re in far too much pain for this not to be real labour”. Louis agreed with Harry, taking note at how much his sister was squeezing his hand. 
After phoning the hospital and explaining everything to the midwife, Harry was told that it sounded like YN was in early labour and they needed to monitor and time how quick she was having contractions. 
At this news Daisy, Phoebe and the other men decided to take Lucky and Olive to Phoebe and Jack’s house to give YN some space before she had to go to hospital. 
“Ahhhh!” YN cried out in pain as she held onto Harry for support. “This hurts so fookin’ much!”.
Harry rubbed circles on YN’s back, trying to comfort her as much as he could. “I know baby…but you’re doing so well.”.
“You’re doing so well YN”. Lottie praised her sister from where she sat next to Louis. “All the pain is worth it in the end, trust me”.
“Lottie’s right Tiny…just think you’ll be holding your baby sooner than you thought”. Louis gave Harry a small smile, knowing how special that moment will be for them both. 
5:30pm
With her contractions lasting around a minute and only being five minutes apart, YN found herself in the hospital with gas and air being her new best friend. 
YN was lying down on the bed, the gas and air attachment in her mouth as she breathed through another contraction. Harry sat on one side of the bed telling her how proud of her he was and saying how it wouldn’t be long until their little one would be here. 
“Harry…baby…I can’t do this!”. YN’s head hit the white plump pillow behind her, as the contraction ended. “I’m so tired already.”.
“You can do it and you are doing it”. Harry brushed some of her away from her face. “You’re making me so proud!”. 
“YN, you’re doing amazing and just remember nothing worth having is easy”. Lottie encouraged her sister, having been through labour and birth herself, she what to say. 
“Listen to your birthing partners YN, you’re doing amazing”. The midwife smiled proudly at how supportive and calm they both were. “How about trying to the birthing pool?”. 
Harry helped YN into the pool and instantly YN’s once tense body was now relaxed. In between contractions she began to make jokes about how she’s glad she had shaved her legs before that day. 
When the next contraction hit, Harry was quick to kneel down beside the pool and hold onto YN’s hand as she took in the gas and air to numb the pain. “That’s it, keep breathing through the pain, you’re doing so well love”. 
8:00pm
“So how did you two meet?”. The midwife began to make conversation with the couple as another contraction ended.
YN was back sitting on the bed, the attachment still in her hand whilst her other one held Harry’s. “He was my brother’s best friend”.
“Oh how interesting!” The midwife leaned forward in her chair, eager to hear more. “How did that go? You know breaking the news to him?”.
“Not well but he came around pretty quickly”. Harry explained as YN worked her way through another sharp pain. 
“I wouldn’t have listened even if he didn’t come around”. YN allowed the gas and air to do a little bit of talking. “Couldn’t resist the charm”. 
Before anyone could respond, a gush of water surrounded YN and turned the blue sheet below a darker shade. “And that’s your water breaking!” The midwife announced before she helps YN to clean herself up. 
11:45pm
The contractions were coming thick and fast, YN was attached to the gas and air more than ever and Harry tried to hide how hard she was squeezing his hand. 
“YN I’m going to exam you, is that alright darling?”. The midwife stood at the bottom on the bed, gloves covering her fingers ready for the examination. With YN’s permission, the midwife began to see how far YN was dilated. “Oh darling, I can feel baby’s head, do you feel like you-“.
Before the midwife finished; YN let out a small groan as she bore down and began to push. Harry was overwhelmed with joy, excitement but also nervousness that any minute now their whole world was about to change. 
“Keep listening to your body YN, you’re doing amazing my darling” the midwife encouraged as she continued to watch the baby’s head begin to crown. 
“Aww I can see her head!”. Lottie’s excited voice could be heard as she took in every moment of watching her niece being born. 
YN took a rest in between contractions before she needed to push again. “I love you  “. Harry placed a peck to YN’s forehead. 
“I love you too!”. 
0:01am
After several more pushes, Harry and Lottie were in awe as the tiny little baby appeared and was placed on YN’s bear chest. The tears streamed down YN and Harry’s cheeks. 
“Hello baby girl!”. YN held her daughter tight, and kissed her head gently. Despite all the pain YN was still in, a large smile covered her face as she looked down at the small version of herself and Harry.
“Baby girl born one minute past midnight on the thirteen of April, weighting six pound exactly”. The midwife announced to the three of them. 
Harry smiled down at his wife and newborn daughter. “Happy birthday baby!”. It was in that moment that YN had realised that their little girl was born on her thirtieth birthday. 
---
13th of April 2024
6 hours old
“Thank you.” Harry spoke into the quiet and calm room as he held their newborn in his bare arms. “You’re a real life superwoman for doing all that and bringing our girl into the world!”.
“I’d do it a thousand times again because she was totally worth it”. YN watched as Harry’s hand held onto the tiny newborn fingers. “I couldn’t have done it without you or Lotts though.”.
“She’s your double”. Harry smiled as he observed the little’s one features, all resembling her mother’s. “She looks like your Mum too!”. He gave YN a sad smile. 
YN didn’t want to get too emotional at the thought that her Mum wasn’t there to meet her daughter, so she tried to remain positive. “I think me Mum sent her as a birthday gift and it’s the best gift I’ve ever had”. 
---
Instagram Reel:
Made by Lottie
The black and white video begins, the sound of Heartbeat by James Arthur playing over it. 
YN is sat on the birthing ball, her hips moving slowly, in her grandparents living room. Harry kneeling down in front of her, holding her gently and whispering how well she’s doing. Louis is sat to her side, holding onto her hand and being a support whilst he can. 
In the hospital corridor, YN has her neck tucked into Harry’s chest as they stop to allow her to breathe through a contraction. Harry places small pecks to the top of her head. 
Sitting crossed leg on the bed, YN takes in the gas and air that she’s holding up to her mouth. Her eyes are closed as she’s breathing through each contraction. 
YN is in the birthing pool, the gas and air still attached to her hand has she takes in another breath, Harry is kneeling down by her side. She holds onto his hand, he looks on with a slight frown on his face as he watches his wife work through another contraction. 
Now lying on the bed, YN cradles her new born daughter to her chest, tears running down her and Harry’s face as they meet their little baby for the first time. Grace Johannah Robyn Styles had stolen their hearts and YN couldn’t have asked for a better birthday gift. 
---
ynstyles
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liked by annetwist, lottietomlinson, and 5,634,543 others
ynstyles Grace Johannah Robyn Styles🤍 View all 15,788 comments
niallhoran Aww my little bestie❤️Can’t wait to meet her xx ⌞ ynstyles Little Grace is excited to meet her Uncle Niall!!
gemmastyles I’M AN AUNTIE🥰❤️Thank you both for blessing me with the most beautiful niece xx ⌞ynstyles AUNTIE GEM🩷
annetwist My family grows and my heart is so full❤️Congratulations my darlings! Grace is a beautiful little girl and I love you all very much xxx ⌞ynstyles We love you😘🥰Thank you for being the best Grandma already❤️
lottietomlinson Our beautiful Grace!! What a magical moment watching her come into the world. Love you all ❤️ ⌞ynstyles Thank you for being there every step of the way Lotts!! I’m so glad I got to share that special moment with you. Love you lots🩷
louist91 Can’t wait for more cuddles!! Proud of you both!! Grace is amazing!!xx ⌞ynstyles Grace loved her snuggles with Uncle Lou xxx ⌞harryfan3 Uncle Louis🥹 ⌞louisfan7 I bet Louis is the best uncle!!!!
zayn congrats guys! So happy for you. Big love x ⌞ynstyles Thanks Z! Hope to see you soon xx ⌞1dfan6 OMG!!! WE’RE GETTING A REUNION!
louteasdale 🥹🥹🥹Congratulations babes, can’t wait for a cuddle xx
liampayne Congratulations both. Can’t wait to meet her!
the.daisytomlinson Another precious niece to love🩷 So proud of you sis xx
thephoebetomlinson Olive’s little bestie🩷🩷
marktommo1111 Beyond proud❤️Another chapter begins!xx
mrlewisburton Congratulations to both of you. Welcome to parenthood❤️
sallietommo A precious baby girl! So proud of you beautiful girl❤️❤️❤️
perrieedwards Congratulations babes🩷Welcome to motherhood xx
pillowpersonpp Wow! What a cutie🥹
daniellepeazer Beautiful name🤍Can’t wait to meet her☺️
ryan.viggars ❤️
jefezoff Congrats guys! Very happy for you both!
j_corden A huge congratulations. Can’t wait to meet the little one
jack.varley7 Congrats guys!!
brianasrealaccount Congratulations Auntie YN and Uncle Harry. I can’t wait to meet baby Grace. I love you so much, love from Freddie❤️ ⌞ynstyles We can’t wait to see you Fred! Grace can’t wait for cuddles from her big cousin. Love and miss you soooooo much😘
Tag List:
@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse
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harrysblackcoat · 19 hours
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This is so FWB Harry hitting you up with a “you around?” Text at 3am… he knows you’ve been out tonight because he’s checked your insta stories one too many times and if he’s being honest he’s been wanting to leave his night out and get to you ever since he seen you in that black dress you posted ( you knew what you were doing ) but he’s trying to play it cool so he stays at his party, pretending to be interested in whatever his mate is saying and not at all thinking about unzipping that dress of you… and when you get that text you’re thanking your lucky stars for that very tight black dress …
126 notes · View notes
cupidsdolll · 19 hours
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word count: 1.1k
summary: harry’s angry at the world, himself included and he makes it everyone’s problem but there might be a light coming in the middle of his storm
notes: this is part two of this fic so it is still considered a dark fic. it contains mentions of drinking to cope with his grief, violence inflicted onto others and a brief scene of it as well.
masterlist
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To say that Harry’s been miserable lately would be a huge understatement. He’s been absolutely insufferable in the past two weeks. He spends all day drinking and holed up inside his office, he’s grumpy and snappy with everybody and he’s even more mean whenever he has to take care of someone. It’s his release in a way, the one safe space he can let out his anger at the world, at the Gallegos for taking away his love, at himself for not doing more.
“Goddamn! Fuck!” He screams in the confines of his office. He down a shot of whiskey and quickly pours himself another one, the burn going down his throat is welcoming — encouraged is the better word for it. His chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at the picture of her. One he had taken a couple of months into knowing each other, a bright smile on her lips and her hair and dress flowing in the wind behind her as they walked through a park. She had wanted a picnic and he was a sucker for her smile, so of course he’d do it for her. It was all worth it in the end, to see the smile plastered on her face and the excitement in her eyes
He misses her terribly, the past week has been the hardest week ever and he doesn’t know if it’ll get any better. He allows the tears to fall freely, to stain his cheeks and the mahogany oak of his desk. It seems as if his tears are never ending, just becoming a permanent addition to his appearance. He can’t bring himself to care, too busy wallowing in his guilt and pain. He guesses he deserves it in a way, none of this would’ve happened if he’d been paying more attention, if they would’ve stayed home or better yet if he’d never given her his number.
He huffs sadly as he wipes his tears away the best he can, he can’t do anything about the stains left on his cheeks. He takes another shot of whiskey and heads towards his office door, he figures now is as good of a time as any, and really he just can’t wait to let out some tension. He walks out the room and down the hall, ignoring the eyes of the few employees gathered around the desk before rolling his eyes as they start whispering.
“Don’t you all have a fucking job to do? This isn’t Barbie’s show where we all sit around and look pretty.” He huffs before mumbling under his breath, watching them with crossed arms as they scramble to find something to do.
He continues walking then, taking deep breaths to try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He can’t look weak in front of them. He walks past the framed pictures on the wall, past the rooms where clicking and the occasional scream filters through the closed doors until he gets to the last door in the hall. The dark wooden door detailed with swirls and large black handles is heavy as he pushes it open, but he enjoys the pain. His own form of punishment he guesses.
The room is filled with different tools and weapons, lights scattered all over the ceiling but still keeps the room dark enough. He prefers this environment to feel more like a horror movie than just a simple killing room, and wants it to feel eerie and depressing. He wants the room to inflict absolute sheer terror and feet into anyone who just so happens to end up strapped to the chair. His dress shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing around the room and he watches happily as the man strapped to the chair begins to squirm and try to break free. It’s no use though, he’s mastered the best knot to tie around the body and the chair tightly to keep them from moving but also to inflict pain when they try to escape.
“Well, well, well. Not happy to see me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet to be used in such a setting. The man shakes his head violently as he tries rocking the chair side to side, his screams are muffled behind the tape. Harry simply chuckles, he’s always amused at their useless attempts.
“Now, I just have a couple of questions for you. I just need some information and I believe you should be able to help with this.” He says as he leans down so his face is right in front of the man with tears filling his eyes. The man shakes his head and Harry grabs a handful of his hair, firmly holding him in place.
“So you don’t want to leave? I was gonna let you leave if you answer… but since you don’t think that’s fair.. you’ll be stuck here.” He says and he watches as more tears fall from the man’s eyes and Harry just laughs, everyone wants to be all big and bad until they have to confront their behaviors. They think that no one will be able to catch them, they always underestimate his dedication. He’ll search every corner of the internet and the world just to find someone, and he’s been doing that lately. Searching for hours and hours on the internet to find someone.
He pulls himself back as he smiles, he’s gonna enjoy himself through all this. He starts off small, a few punches and rough tugs of the hair, and he relishes in the muffled cries of the man in front. He rips off the tape and the man screams.
“Who wanted my girl dead and why?” He asks and the man shakes his head.
“I don’t know man!” He says through his tears and shakes his head as if he’s disappointed.
“Such a shame.” He says as he walks to a table full of various weapons and tools of all sizes, he grabs a pair of pliers and walks back to the man, hitting the pliers against his palm.
“Maybe this will ring some answers for you, for every question you don’t answer and I’m not satisfied with the answer I’ll pull one of your teeth out. How does that sound?” The man cries and shakes his head.
“Please man, I’m serious! I don’t know anything!” He cries out and Harry sighs.
“Already onto a bad start, my friend.” He says as he yanks the man’s jaw open as he decides which teeth to pull. As soon as he picks one, the door opens and EJ’s voice rings out.
“Hey boss, sorry to bother you but you have a phone call, it’s important.” Harry shakes his head. He should know better than to interrupt him. He’d hate to have to fire him.
“Uh, I’m busy. Tell them I’ll call back later.” Harry replies back, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his voiceand the door still stays open.
“It’s the hospital, Y/N. She’s alive.”
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report-sell · 14 hours
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adore-laur · 15 hours
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DEVOTION
— please enjoy harry & sawyer getting freaky in miami (inspired by this ask)💃
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——
MIAMI, 1993
People are packed into the arena like sardines. An August humidity suffuses the air, a cacophony of chatter overlaps, and an infectious energy pulses in the room as everyone waits for Sade to hit the stage in all their sensational glory.
In the general admission area, Harry stands behind Sawyer with his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. Her footing shifts occasionally as she fiddles with his rings. He can sense her anticipation—she's been looking forward to this concert for months. When he gifted her the tickets on her birthday, she wept and kissed him with a hunger he had never experienced from her before. As much as he spoils her, she goes the extra mile to show him her appreciation.
Once the lights go out, Harry can't wait to see her vivacious eyes and dazzling smile.
Sawyer looks ravishing tonight. Her black cropped tank top has a variety of enticing little cutouts—no bra underneath, he might add—and she's wearing low-waisted denim shorts which hug her ass most temptingly. There's a reason he opted to stand behind her—two, actually. One, he doesn't want any dudes getting a sneak peek of his girl. And two, he doesn't need anyone seeing his hardness through his leather pants.
She curled her hair with natural-looking spirals and teased it with spray. Her long, wavy mane has always been a hassle to manage in the summertime, so she cut it collarbone-length. Her front bangs are tightly clipped back, and she wears gold hoop earrings. She’s truly a stunner.
Prior to leaving, Harry watched her as she got ready for the concert. They live together in a swanky Orlando penthouse, where the simple things like her clothes hanging in the closet and makeup supplies cluttering the bathroom sink make him unbelievably happy. While he gently reminded Sawyer that they needed to leave soon for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Miami, she applied her mascara and teased him by showing her cleavage while bent over the vanity. Despite his provocative urges, he managed to resist giving in.
When Sawyer turns to look at him now, the room reduces to just her. Lucious lips stained pomegranate-red with gloss. Skin glowing with moisture. Dark eyes filled with warmth. It’s breathtaking to behold the sheer beauty of her features. Time and time again, she hypnotizes him. He's beginning to think she can cast spells on his lovesick soul.
Sawyer taps his bicep before standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear. In an instinctive move, Harry touches her hip and leans down to better hear her.
Fanning herself, she says, "It's muggy in here. I'm going to buy a water bottle and braid my hair in the bathroom."
"I'll go with you."
"But you have to save our spot," she reminds him.
Though he nearly protests, he reluctantly nods and caresses the slick skin of her bare middle back. "Fine. You have your phone?"
"In my purse. I'll be fast."
Harry kisses the spot between her eyebrows before letting her go, keeping her locked in his gaze until she disappears past the lower seating sections. In crowds, regardless of size, he doesn’t like losing her. During baseball games, it’s less worrying since she always sits in the same section in her reserved seat, but in Miami, he's extra cautious because it's an unfamiliar city. Sawyer can stand up for herself since sass and stubbornness are intertwined in her Aries DNA, but Harry remains fiercely protective of her. She's a certified sweetheart, conspicuously beautiful, and also quite gullible to a fault—if anyone attempts to take advantage of that, they'll have to answer to him.
While she's gone, Harry observes the venue. There are people from all walks of life surrounding him. The staggered seating sections flanking the floor are filling quickly, and it's reminiscent of playing at Tinker Field, where he would watch fans fill the bleachers from the dugout.
In a few weeks, the minor league season will conclude, and Harry is looking forward to taking a much-needed break from pitching and traveling. He's thankful he didn’t have a game scheduled today, which gave him and Sawyer the chance to step out for a date. It aches to know she's missed him a little more after such a long season. Due to her full-time job, she can’t always travel across America with him or attend home games, but they’re able to make it work by cherishing their time together. Next month, they plan to celebrate their second anniversary in Seville, Spain. They'll sunbathe on the scenic beaches, relish a couples massage, and take romantic strolls through the city's idyllic parks.
And, if Harry doesn't chicken out, he'll ask her to marry him.
Fondly smiling at the thought, he watches two girls strut toward him, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. They're wearing variations of the same outfit—metallic miniskirts, frilly halter tops, and chunky heels. Based on their strikingly similar features, they must be twins. Twin One holds a Canon camera, while Twin Two laughs into her hands.
Harry waves politely before shoving his hands in his pockets. The moment a fan recognizes him, he knows it. There’s a strange shift in the atmosphere when he temporarily loses his shield of privacy. It's unavoidable when fifteen thousand people are gathered in a Miami venue. It comes with the territory of being a famous Florida sports figure.
"Are you Harry Styles?"
Here we go.
Feeling abnormal but pushing past it, he says, "In the flesh. How's it going, ladies?"
"Oh my gosh, we love you," Twin One gushes. "You're hella cute. You play for the Sun Rays, right?"
"Sort of. Our team name got changed recently. We're now the Orlando Cubs."
"Oh, cool," she says distractedly. "Anyway, we want a picture with you."
With a sharp inhale, Harry nods once. “Sure, no problem."
It doesn't bother him to take pictures or sign autographs. Most people are respectful and genuinely honored to meet him. Rarely, however, do people demand things from him, like right now. Then he feels prickles of discomfort. It makes him feel as though he's being exploited. It makes him feel fictitious.
As the girls swarm around him and touch him like he's a wax figure with no boundaries, Sawyer nudges her way through the crowd, water bottle in hand. As she processes the situation, her movements slow and her shoulders drop slightly. She has her hair in two messy braids, with the shorter layers springing loose. She looks effortless and... annoyed. Yeah, Harry is all too familiar with that look. He has been on the receiving end of those slanted eyebrows, those gritted teeth, and those assessing eyes. How will this play out?
When she sees Sawyer, Twin Two strokes his arm suggestively. Thankfully, they see her as a mere stranger rather than his girlfriend. His mind flashes back to past discussions about keeping their relationship as private as possible, and he decides not to sacrifice that for such a measly moment. No chance.
"Can you take a photo of us?" It was wise of her to ask, rather than demand. Otherwise, Harry's friendly mask would have definitely slipped.
Sawyer purses her lips as she meets Harry's gaze. "Do you mind?" he asks, his expression hinting at a secret message.
By taking Twin One's camera, she recognizes his unspoken signal and cleverly leaps into her role. God, he's thankful for her. He knows it's challenging to deal with these bizarre occurrences that pop their bubble, but she handles them all so gracefully. When they get home, he’ll shower her with affection.
Sawyer raises the camera to her eye and says, "I'll take a few."
Harry straightens his posture and awkwardly places his hands on both girls' upper arms. His muscles tense uncomfortably as their hands slither around his waist and linger near his stomach. Amid three flashes, he’s suffocated by the pungent smell of perfume and spearmint gum.
“There you go,” Sawyer says, giving the camera back and forcing a smile.
They browse the pictures before staring at Harry with a sickening amount of adoration. "It was awesome meeting you," Twin Two says, biting her lip. "We'll see you around at the next Sun Rays game."
"Cubs," Sawyer mumbles around a fake cough. Only Harry catches it, and he restrains himself from grinning proudly and kissing her senselessly.
"Nice to meet you both," he says, briefly touching his heart. "Enjoy the concert, yeah?"
They nod, blush, and giggle simultaneously before walking off, staring back at him a couple of times before fading into the sea of strangers. Harry releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and concentrates on Sawyer drinking from her water bottle. He's about to apologize for the unnatural situation, but the venue goes dark, and the audience erupts with deafening cheers.
The joy he expected to see in Sawyer's eyes isn't there. Silently, she crosses her arms and faces the stage with a blank expression. Harry curses at himself—he knows it isn't his fault and that it's just how Sawyer is. She takes things to heart and lets them stew until her skeptical thoughts overflow without a lid. The fact that she didn’t witness the entire interaction has made her understandably upset. Harry regrets not saying no to the fans.
First on the setlist is Sade's "The Sweetest Taboo"—sonically sensual, intoxicatingly groovy, and a fantastic way to open their show. Everybody dances to the exquisite beat and sings along to the lyrics. The energy in the room soars to an unimaginable level. It's contagious.
Harry grips Sawyer's hand so the crowd doesn't swallow her whole. She turns and smiles softly, finally bobbing her head to the music. Slowly, she loosens up, unfurling the passionate girl he knows lives within her. The one who loves to dance.
She looks resplendent as indigo lights glide across her face. Her body begins to move—the shape of her swaying hips and the pinch of her waist are irresistible. Harry settles behind her and follows her smooth movements, grinding against her backside. The warmth of his hands rests on her ribcage, and they dance, getting lost in the ecstasy of experiencing live music.
With each song, they forget about the world outside and fall more in love with each other.
——
Harry and Sawyer leave the arena on a high after being captivated by Sade's sultry voice and entrancing stage presence for over an hour. The parking lots are already congested with people trying to beat traffic, so they decide to wait until it calms down.
As soon as they get into the car, Harry starts the engine and turns on the air conditioning before reclining the driver's seat. With exhaustion swimming through his bones, he sighs contently. It was a magical concert, but he's not looking forward to driving back to Orlando. He'll need to stop by 7/11 for an energy drink and some snacks. Fortunately, tomorrow is Sunday, so they can both sleep in and laze around the whole day.
Sawyer unbraids her hair and removes the clips, then shakes her head cutely to let her wild curls loose. She looks tired as well. They danced the night away together, not caring who saw them. He told her to climb on his back a few times so she could get a better view of the stage. During the romantic slow-tempo songs, she hugged and kissed him sweetly, and he swears he almost got down on one knee right then and there.
"I love you, baby," Harry says, watching her take off her Doc Martens. "Tonight was divine."
A smile spreads across Sawyer's face. "I love you too. Hey, listen..." She reaches over to caress his cheek and thumb the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry about my buzzkill attitude at the beginning."
Shaking his head, he kisses her palm. “You don't have to apologize. I appreciate how you handled those girls."
He hopes to forget about what happened. Honestly, as soon as the concert started, he forgot all about them. There was only one thing on his mind: Sawyer and the mesmerizing way she moved.
"I just... I got jealous," Sawyer confesses sheepishly.
Harry frowns in astonishment. Jealousy is a rare emotion for Sawyer. They’ve been dating for almost two years, and he can count on one hand the number of times she has been outwardly jealous. Since he only has eyes for her, there's no rhyme or reason for her to feel this way.
What a new and fun development, Harry thinks to himself. He loves how their relationship continues to surprise him.
Harry, however, has been caught having jealous fits many times before. Like that instance when Sawyer was invited to lunch by her so-called "cubicle neighbor." Harry is her forever lunch date, not anyone else. Even when he can't be there in person, he'll call her office fax number and keep her company while she munches her cucumber salad. Harry's jealousy grew when he discovered some guy was trying to steal that from him, so he ordered an impressive bouquet to be delivered to her desk the following day. It didn't take long for everyone to get the hint. Then there was that time when they were watching The Bodyguard, and Sawyer kept squealing girlishly over Kevin Costner's character. Okay, so he literally took a bullet for the woman he loved. Big deal! Harry smothered his jealousy by obnoxiously pretending to be Sawyer's bodyguard while exiting the movie theater and then proceeding to sing "I Have Nothing" off-key the entire way home. She just laughed, which was his goal in the first place.
"Why'd you get jealous?" Harry asks.
Sawyer's brow quirks. "Well, when I'm subjected to taking pictures of two pretty girls who are all over my boyfriend, it doesn't necessarily feel good."
"I know," he says, frustrated with himself. "I should've refused them. They kind of trapped me."
She pouts sympathetically before climbing over the console and straddling his lap. "My sweet sunray. You're too nice."
Harry pulls her closer by hooking his fingers through her belt loops and tugging. "I'm sorry you were jealous."
"I shouldn't have been. You know why?"
"Tell me." Reaching around her, he turns up the volume of the radio to drown out the sounds of cars honking at each other. The cassette tape they listened to on the drive to Miami is still playing on loop. "Paradise" by Sade sets the mood.
"Because you're mine," Sawyer says with conviction.
Spreading his legs on the seat, he smirks. "Say that again, angel."
"You're mine. No one else's."
"Ditto," he replies, rubbing his palms along her suntanned thighs. "You've got my devotion."
His bodacious girl bites his bottom lip until it stings, then says, "Prove it."
"Good fuckin' lord," Harry murmurs against her mouth before diving in. He kisses her ravenously while fumbling to unbutton her shorts, eventually helping her shimmy out of them. Sawyer shoves her hand down his pants and grasps his bulge, stroking it purposefully. He gasps and slides his pants down halfway, revealing his tented boxers.
"Are you mine?" she asks, sitting right on his cock and sending shockwaves of sex drive down his spine. Her body heat is addictive.
"Yes," he says breathlessly, kissing along her flushed neck. "I'm your man."
"Then act like it. Show me who you belong to."
A shocked laugh escapes as he greedily grabs a handful of her ass. "Sawyer Alejandra, what has Miami done to you? Ay, Dios mío!"
She smiles seductively. "It's Sade's fault."
"Is that right?" Harry cranks the volume up even more before allusively sliding his hand under her top and cupping the swell of her breast. It fits perfectly, and when he teases her peaked nipple with his thumb, Sawyer's palm slaps against the window as she grinds against him. The glass is fogging with the A/C running, sweat drips down his back, and the song's driving bass line pulsates loudly through the speakers. It's filthy what they're doing, considering potential onlookers surround them. It's a good thing the car has tinted windows.
The thrill of their sexual escapade pulses through Harry's body. As he kisses Sawyer's heaving breasts through her top's cutouts, the pleasure becomes borderline intolerable. His lips search for any sliver of skin, and in response, she tugs his hair and whimpers softly. Her skimpy lace underwear is damp, and he switches his attention to her clit. He rubs it with his knuckle, causing Sawyer's hips to momentarily stutter before she leans into the movement and stamps sloppy kisses all over his face, her cherry-flavored lip gloss transferring to his cheeks, nose, and jaw. They're as sweet as sugar.
"Almost there," Sawyer whispers, running her hand across his broad chest. Her fingers grip the material of his bejeweled sleeveless top to keep herself balanced, and Harry would let her rip it apart if he hadn't spent several hours meticulously hot gluing rhinestones onto it.
After kissing down her stomach and blowing air onto her belly button ring, he teases two fingers past her wet entrance, and it's all she needs to unravel completely. As she orgasms, she leaves love bites on his neck and moans. Her body language is desperate, the arch of her back and the tightening of her thighs against his own helping her through her release.
"Nice and easy, baby," Harry murmurs, squeezing her waist. "Take your time."
From the gratifying pain she inflicts on the tender flesh of his neck, Harry comes in his boxers, his pelvis jerking as goosebumps rise over his skin in transient tidal waves. It feels equally divine and unholy what they just did. Tiredness kicks in as they both breathe heavily. Gradually, the condensation on the windows disappears. Sawyer's handprint is the last thing to vanish, and the sight will undeniably haunt his memory in the most marvelous way.
Harry opens the glovebox and finds the stash of napkins. After cleaning Sawyer and himself, he pulls his pants back up, shuts the radio off, and says, "I've made up my mind."
"About what?" Sawyer asks, sitting sideways on his lap so she can stretch her legs. In just her cropped top, underwear, and adorable ruffle socks, she's a masterpiece. And all his.
"I'm gonna marry you one day," he says. It's something he's known for a long time. He hopes that easing her into the topic will make him more confident about proposing next month.
Sawyer pinches his earlobe. "Don't say dreamy things like that."
"Oh, that’s bogus," he retorts. "You say heart-stopping things to me all the time without even realizing. Especially after sex."
"Not marriage-related things!"
"Does that mean you don't want to marry me?" he asks, fishing for a reaction.
When she goes quiet and stares contemplatively at him, Harry's stomach swoops. He knows her exceptionally well, which means he knows she tends to shy away from substantial conversations regarding their future when they're sprung upon her by his spontaneous nature. Perhaps it's too early to propose a lifelong commitment, but hasn't she imagined sharing a life with him before? The moment he kissed her for the first time, he fantasized about settling down, buying a house away from the city, tying the knot, and having curly-haired babies.
Eventually, Sawyer says, "I would marry you in this parking lot right now if you asked me to."
Harry feels an internal splash of relief and plays it cool by saying, "Please raise your standards."
"Are you saying you wouldn't want to marry me in a parking lot, lover boy?" She tosses her version of his question back to him with a frisky smile.
"I'd find you and marry you in every lifetime. How's that for an answer?"
She’s speechless for five full seconds before lurching forward to hug him, her heart hammering. "You're crazy. I love you so, so much."
"I adore you," Harry whispers. He reaches for the 'S' pendant hiding under his top's neckline and pulls it out. "I'm forever yours."
Sawyer kisses him repeatedly and says, "Forever."
During the journey home, she falls asleep with her head in his lap, holding his hand while he drives. His thumb absentmindedly strokes her ring finger, and he feels a surge of emotion and excitement knowing he will get to spend the years to come by her side.
Years filled with being deeply devoted to her.
——
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gurugirl · 2 days
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Would U ever do a good boy harry like prologue kinda takes place before the series where harry likes hear her moaning in her sleep and starts wanking to her on the other side of the wall or something
Well I'm a sucker for this kind of thing... not really a true prologue but YES WHY NOT. Written very fast! Thank you to the anon who suggested this 🙈
Summary: Harry's stepmom is moaning in her bedroom and Harry can't help himself.
Word Count: 1,074
Warning: masturbation, slight exhibitionist kink, inappropriate relationship/fantasy, this is stepmom!reader x stepson!harry (everyone is an adult here - I do not write smut with minors just as a reminder!)
A Good Boy masterlist
Harry tried not to think about her that way. About his stepmom. God, she was hot. Just a bit older than he was with the cutest laugh and the way she would twirl her fingers in his long hair every time he went to his dad's to visit would drive him crazy.
And only an hour before she was trying to get him to let her braid it. So he let her a little but his dick was expanding in his joggers and he got up halfway through and apologized, running off to his bedroom before she could get a peek at what was happening to his cock. He had to finish himself to the image of her licking her lips and looking at him with her pretty doe eyes.
What was wrong with him? Aside from the fact that he was a virgin still. An adult in college who hadn't yet gotten laid. Perhaps that was why he was so hard up for her. But it wasn't like she was the only girl to ever give him any kind of attention. It's just that Y/n's attention was so innocent. The sweet hugs and subtle touches. The conversations about nothing and the way she'd be wearing the shortest goddamn shorts after tennis all sweaty and gulping down her water in the kitchen without care. Which always had him running up to his room and wanking off like a damn teenager.
But at that moment? With the house dark and quiet he could hear her in her bedroom. Yes her bedroom. She and his father didn't share a room. It was an odd arrangement but Harry knew better than to ask too many questions. All he knew was that if she were his he’d have her in his bed next to him every night. But of course, she wasn’t his. She was his dad’s wife.
He wasn't completely sure that what he was hearing was what he thought he was hearing. Little moans. Soft and breathy. Her door was cracked open and so was his.
Another long sigh from her had him sitting up in bed and straining to hear more. He knew his father was in his own bedroom and long asleep so she wasn't with him.
"Mmmm..." it was muffled and quiet but the house was also quiet and Harry couldn't mistake the sound. He closed his eyes and laid his head back into his pillow.
He'd tried and failed so many times to keep his thoughts out of the gutter with her but he'd already had full-on fantasies about her before. And he figured she'd never find out that he could hear her. What was the harm if he could just stroke himself a little while she moaned? No one had to know.
Harry pulled his tissue box next to himself on his bed and spit into his palm. His cock was already hard. Pathetic when he really thought about it. Because he'd already fucked his fist and nutted not that long before thinking about Y/n.
When he smoothed his hand down his shaft he parted his lips and spread his legs, long strokes up and down his length as he heard another gasp from her room. Smoothing his thumb over his slit he felt he was already dripping for her. Precome pushing from his tip. He pulled the moisture down himself and used his other hand to fondle his balls and he whimpered into his pillow after he flipped himself to his tummy. He didn't want her to hear him the way he could hear her.
He rutted down into his fist, his face heating up and heart pounding as her own little moans grew more frequent. He could almost see her in his mind’s eye. Pretty body, all soft and supple, perked nipples dancing over wobbly soft tits as she slid her fingers over her pussy that he would give almost anything to look at. He wondered if she was using a toy or just her hands. Wondered if she was humping a pillow or who she was imagining. Did she look at porn to get herself in the mood? Had she gotten turned on from braiding his hair earlier? Unlikely, he thought to himself.
Fucking down into his fist he imagined her body under his, imagined he was dipping into her sweet hole and bringing those noises to her lips, making her gush as she raked her nails down his back.
"Fuck me..." he whispered with his mouth smashed into his pillow as he felt his balls tighten and his insides get all sticky and mushy and hot.
He quickly pulled a wad of tissues from the box and laid them down over the mattress and went back to his desperate strokes as his stepmom gasped and panted, the sound of what he thought could be her coming had his brain spinning and his cock throbbing as he beat himself tip to root, over and over again until he was spurting out all the sticky mushy come that had built up in his balls and poured it over the tissues. He moaned loudly just as Y/n's own noises were halted. She'd finished right before he had. If that was in fact what she’d been doing. He had his doubts but what else could it have been?
He breathed heavily as he tugged at his cock one last good stroke before he sat back to his haunches and wiped his hand with the tissues and tossed the mess into his garbage.
The house was silent again and he heard light footsteps over hardwood planks in the floor, “Night Harry,” her soft whispered voice sounded just before he heard her door click close. She'd either just realized her door was cracked open or she knew all along. Harry didn't imagine she'd done it on purpose.
However, the night Harry was something. Wasn’t it? Had she heard him? Did she know he was still awake? Was this a test?
But no. He couldn’t think like that. He was already in too deep with his feelings for his stepmom. She was a nice young woman who was sweet to him. That’s all it was. Nothing more. It would be impossible that she’d find her husband’s son attractive. That she’d just masturbated and let him hear her on purpose. That she wanted to get a rise out of him. Definitely not.
But then again…
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stylesharrys · 17 hours
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His hand finds her face, gently caressing her jaw as he speaks. When her eyes flutter closed absentmindedly, she hears Harry tut before her.
“Keep those pretty eyes open, puppy.”
Her eyes open, wide. All doe-like and fluttery. It awakens that hunger deep in Harry’s stomach – one full of need and desire.
“Y/N… d’you like it when I call you puppy?”
early access here :)
25 notes · View notes
unabashegirl · 2 days
Note
insta blurb for gracie abrams
Absolutely. I am guessing you want her as a face claim? Anyway, here is the blurb! Enjoy!
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liked by oliviarodrigo, harrystyles and 204,302 others
yourinstagram I had so much fun last night. Let's do it all over again Phoenix ☀️!
view all 10,359 comments
oliviarodrigo I love you music. I am obssesed with your single! Have it on repeat all day! 💞
yourinstagram omfg I am freaking out. 🫠 and I love yours!
yourfan221 when are you coming to NYC!
yourinstagram next month!
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liked by yourinstagram, harrysfan40 and 20,485 others
harrysconstantupdates Harry was seen last night in New York at Y/N Y/L/N. Fans said they saw him dancing and enjoying her music. He seems to be a fan.
view all 5000 comments
yourfan103 literaly Y/N's dream. She is such a fan of him. So happy to see them supporting one another.
harrysfan10 why do I get the feeling that something is brewing over there?
harrys204 omg! I hope we get a collab out of this!
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liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 29,094, 294 others
yourinstagram main caracter energy ✨. I probably shouldn’t be posting this…
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harrystyles defiantly shouldn't…
yourinstagram upps 🤭
taylorswift I can already tell is a banger!!! 💃
harryfan09 its his world and we are just living in it.
yourfan67 they are writing music!!! ekkkk
harryupdates keep posting. Appreciate the Harry content
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liked by niallhoran, jeffzoffs and 4,395,104 others
harrystyles She couldn't keep a secret...smh 🤦🏻‍♂️
view all 350,294 comments
yourinstagram stoppp I'm sorry! I though you said it was fine!
jeffzoffs does she need a manager? 🤔
harrystyles NO!
yourinstagram YES!
niallhoran she is a cutie. what's her number? 😉
harrysfan30 NIALL!
onedirection4live he is asking for a death wish. Harry is defo interested in her.
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 90,049 others
yourinstagram well deserved break ;)
view all 20,293 comments
yourfan94 no way! is that Harry?
harrysfan204 Harry's nails are painted and what abt his tattoo? Isn’t him!
harryfan89 that is Harry! I knew they were dating!
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liked by harryupdates, yourfan56 and 940,385 others
tmz_tv #Harrystyles was seen kissing with new singer and songwriter Y/N Y/L/N after being spotted having an intimate dinner at an Italian restaurant in LA.
View all 4395 comments
harryfan02 I knew it!
yourfan308 they were spending too much time together. I am not surprised.
yournumeronefam we all saw it coming
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liked by harrystyles, oliviarodrigo and 10,395 others
yourinstagram yours truely ❤️
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harrystyles so agressive... 🔥
yourbestfriend where is my credit? You know how many pictures I took?!
yourinstagram stoppp
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liked by niallhoran, mitchrowland and 239,395 others
harrystyles just the two of us ✨
View all 30,492 comments
mitchrowland actually we were all there 🙄
harrystyles you are ruining it
pillowpersonspp cuties 💜
yourbestfriend no wonder you've been MIA 🤭
harryfan204 he is so in love...
yourfan384 I hope he doesn't hurt her.
REQUEST ARE OPENED!
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finelinefae · 1 month
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
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synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 
read part 2 here
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?" 
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed. 
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed. 
"You're too cute." 
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone." 
She smiled. 
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 
"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
3K notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 5 months
Text
Knockout*
Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.
Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence
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Your stranger is here.
He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.
He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.
And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.
A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.
He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.
Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.
You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.
You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is. 
“Hi, Cherry.”
Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring. 
You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.
Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.
“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”
Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”
“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”
“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”
“As much as you want.”
He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”
You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.
Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”
“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.
And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”
“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”
Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different. 
So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.
“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”
And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy. 
“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.
Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”
“Good. Better now.”
The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles. 
“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you. 
There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”
You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”
Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall. 
“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”
Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”
It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him. 
“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”
“Are you?”
He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”
“Why?”
He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”
It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.
But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.
He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”
“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”
He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”
You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one. 
“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”
Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”
“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”
Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”
“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”
The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him. 
He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.
That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.
He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.
And from that night on, you became his Cherry.
He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.
And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:
He always pays with big bills.
He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.
And his name is Harry.
Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.
“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back. 
You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”
“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”
Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”
“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”
You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”
However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”
His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner. 
You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”
You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”
The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.
“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”
Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”
You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.
You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.
Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.
“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”
Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck. 
Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.
“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”
“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”
The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.
“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.
But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”
Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.
You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.
“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”
And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”
Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”
“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”
His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.
The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.
Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied. 
And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.
Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request. 
Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.
With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.
However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”
But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.
The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”
And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.
All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.
There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.
You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.
“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”
“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”
Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.
“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”
Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”
Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”
“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”
“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"
Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.
“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”
With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.
 But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.
He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.
 And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.
Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.
You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante. 
Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down. 
“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.
“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”
You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.
And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”
“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”
“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”
He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”
He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly. 
“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”
“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”
And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.
And truth be told…you think he already knows.
His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.
“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”
“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”
“Oh…how?”
His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”
“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”
The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting. 
But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe. 
You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.
“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”
A beat. Then, “…every night.”
The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.
And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.
But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.
It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.
And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in. 
Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.
It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.
“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”
You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.
“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”
A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.
“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”
You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.
And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.
“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”
And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else. 
“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”
He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit. 
“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”
He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.
“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”
You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like. 
Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.
His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside. 
“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”
You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”
“Promise?”
“Mhm. Promise.”
The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”
He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.
Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him. 
You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.
Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.
Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.
“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”
Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips. 
They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable. 
Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs. 
Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.
But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer. 
“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”
You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.
Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.
He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”
You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”
He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”
Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.
When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs. 
“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”
He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.
And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.
He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly. 
He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”
“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”
His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you. 
You’ve never been so happy in your life.
He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.
His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds. 
You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.
“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”
You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.
The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier. 
“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”
It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.
He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows. 
It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.
He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.
Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.
And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”
“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”
You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.
“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”
He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him. 
You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”
You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles. 
The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.
And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.
You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.
Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.
By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good. 
He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.
Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.  
“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”
The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.
But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated. 
He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.
He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.
He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum. 
You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.
Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.
Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.
He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.   
Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart. 
You’d keep him forever if you could.
You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.
“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”
And you know he will.
“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”
You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.
Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”
You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.
He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”
You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”
“Is that right?”
Another shake. “Get bored.”
“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”
Now you nod, making a noise of agreement. 
He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”
You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.
“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”
And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out. 
“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”
“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer. 
“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”
He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.
The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.
You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”
And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.
Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.
Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.
His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.
“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”
And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater. 
“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”
“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”
And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out. 
You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you. 
Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"
And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.
“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”
And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.
But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”
“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”
“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”
“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”
“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”
You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.
He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”
Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.
But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.
He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?” 
That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie. 
“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”
Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.
He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.
This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle. 
And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort. 
When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”
You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.
“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”
You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.
“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”
He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.
“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”
And you decide you like the sound of that.
Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.
He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”
You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.
You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence. 
You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall. 
You hope one day you get to find out. 
“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”
You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.
“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”
You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.
“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”
He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you. 
His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”
He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.
“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”
The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.
“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”
The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you. 
“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”
And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.
But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye. 
“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”
And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.
“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”
The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.
But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.
He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.
After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.
“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”
Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm. 
And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”
“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”
His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”
“I’m…trying. I think.”
“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”
His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.
You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour. 
It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”
With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”
This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”
“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”
His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”
It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.
But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.
His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”
You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”
Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”
“Promise?”
His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”
And you choose to believe him.
You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.
A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.
You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.
When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.
But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.
But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06. 
Your stranger isn’t here.
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I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞
Next Part:
~ Whiplash*
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge
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moonchildstyles · 13 days
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pleasing
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y/n is harry's best friend and she'd never received a valentine's present like this one before.
wordcount: 9.5k+
—————
Just as she finished patting in her skincare for the night, (Y/N)'s phone vibrated for where she had it plugged in, in her bedroom. There was only one person that would be calling her this late at night. 
Dismissing the products she had scattered on her bathroom counter, she rushed back into her room. Upon the screen was a blurry, distorted picture of her best friend with his hair on top of his head in different spikes, thanks for a heaping of sticky hair gel and free time during a snowstorm. His name was plastered across the top, the peapod emoji right next to it. She didn't hesitate before she answered the call. 
"Harry?" she sang after pressing her phone to her ear.
"Hey, are you busy?" 
"I'm just getting ready for bed. Why?" 
"Can I FaceTime you?" 
She barely had time to give a yes before the call switched to a FaceTime in her hand, her screen lighting up a beat later. In front of her was the top half of his face, revealing only his eyes and up. His hair was pulled back with a claw clip, the angle showing off the length of his lashes and the furrow of his brow. 
(Y/N) could see herself in the small box in the corner of the screen, showing off a rather similar angle to what he was giving, though she thought hers was much less flattering somehow. 
"Hello?" 
The furrow in her best friend's brow decreased at the sound of her voice, giving away the smile that was spreading across his lips even if she couldn't see it on screen. 
"Can y'see me?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled and far away. 
"Yes, but I can barely hear you. Are you covering your speakers?" 
Her world went askew as Harry shuffled his phone in his hand, his mouth set in a comical frown for a glimpse before he righted his grip and was back with the half view of his face. "Sorry, can y'hear me now?" 
She hummed a confirmation, smiling to the camera. "What did you want to show me?" 
Harry's cheeks lifted, giving away the hint of a dimple in the corner of the frame. "I have new samples." 
A gasp fell from (Y/N) lips, excitement filling her. "For the collection?! Or different ones?" 
"For the collection." 
Her excitement only rose at the new information. "Let me see!" she bubbled, eagerly curling up on her bed, ready to spend the next hour poring over the new development with Harry.
After a small struggle and a lagging view of Harry's face, the camera suddenly turned to show a view of prototype nail polish bottles and first prints of shimmery nail stickers laid out on his black bedding. 
Even in the low light of his room, (Y/N) could see flecks of glitter in a few of the polishes, the stickers glimmering in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The colors themselves ranged from quiet pastels to vivid brights, some left creamy, others containing barely-there shimmers, and the remainders boasting chunky bright glitters. The collection was large, containing two sets of polishes: one set was full of delicate pastels ranging in the pink family, with the other championing rich, clinging colors. The first iterations of the polish packaging came with the iconic spheres on the tops of the bottles, though this collection featured watercolor petals draped over the shape, leaving the illusion of flowers encased in the bottle all in the same color as the polish inside. 
"What do you think?" 
(Y/N) was sure he could see the wide set to her eyes, the way she was practically fawning over them already. "H, I love it! This is for the Valentine's collection, right?" 
"Something like that, yeah," he answered, his smile evident in his voice, "I figured y'liked the pink ones." 
"I do," she chirped, bringing her phone closer as if she could gain a clearer look of each shade that way. "Put your phone closer, I want to see the colors and the stickers better." 
Harry did just that without hesitation, bringing his phone to his bed, though he went a step further and picked up the stickers to show off in front of the camera. 
Gasping, (Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes when she took in the sticker sheet. 
"Harry." 
"What?" 
"Are those bows?!" 
He only laughed.
—————
"Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll talk to you tomorrow." 
"Talk to you tomorrow, H," (Y/N) yawned, unabashedly showing off a downturned angle of the moment while Harry watched on. "Let me know if you want to get dinner later this week. Love you." 
His heart squeezed in his chest at her casual declaration. "Love you, too." 
With that, the video of her sleepy face disappeared, showing only the simple photo he had saved to his lockscreen. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty space for a heartbeat, just a split second away from calling her back despite the late hour and the fact she'd been half asleep before he'd suggested she head to bed. He forced himself to lock his phone and set it on his bedside table, keeping it out of sight and hopefully out of mind. 
Still spread out on his bed, where he had sprawled out his limbs and grew comfortable amongst the bedding, were the new Pleasing products he had been so eager to show off. Everything was still in the test package, nothing completely finalized or one hundred percent polished just yet, but he'd been too excited. He'd shared the concept with (Y/N) ages ago, right after he'd made it out of a meeting with Harry Lambert and Molly, unable to keep the secret under wraps—especially when he found his own inspiration for the collection. 
(Y/N). 
It had been Molly's idea to unveil a Valentine's themed collection after the small set of apparel that would be released around his birthday, hoping to tap into another facet of him that was so beloved to the public. She had in mind something that would commemorate the love songs he was so famous for; the kind of sweetheart, love-sick energy that he often utilized to make his most memorable lyrics and showcased on stage.
As she had gone on, sharing what kind of feeling she wanted to invoke for the season's rollout, Harry was only thinking of his own inspiration. 
It was the same thing that inspired his music, his attitude, his want to improve and be more and more than he started as. 
His best friend. 
He saw his own idea for the collection coming in flashes of her favorite colors, the shade of the dress she wore to his birthday party, the hue of her eyes, the colors that falling in love with her made him see in the world. He could see her with her fingernails proudly painted in his brand, the way she always did when Pleasing made something new just so she could support him. There were already prototypes of new apparel, manicure stickers, and campaign designs forming in his head. 
Harry had come away from that meeting with plenty of ideas to think on, and lyrics forming that he hoped he wouldn't forget before he had a chance to write them down. 
Months later, he had enough ideas for more than one micro-collection. Each one had been passed by Molly and Harry Lambert—both being excited and surprised that there was so much to be used and saved for later collections—leaving with a duo of aesthetics they planned on basing the campaign around. 
That was what he had shown (Y/N) tonight, and was now spread across his bedspread as he tried to calm down his winding heart after their late night call. He kept seeing her face when she spotted the romantic set that was directly inspired by her, the way her eyes lit up when she took in the shades of pink and the shimmery accents. That had been the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he received the initial samples. 
Collecting each piece, he took his time pulling each bottle, rolling them in his hands with bubbles floating through the polish. He wondered if (Y/N) would catch the connections when he revealed the names to her. He wondered if she would know that he named this shimmery soft pink Woman with her in mind, including inspiration from a song he penned that now was soaked in her memory. The buttery yellow with golden reflects dubbed Home, would she know that was based on the golden dress she wore the first time she saw him on tour? The rich, creamy red he'd called Feast, he hoped she'd see the lipstick she wore the first time they met in the shade. 
He lingered over the bottles, all eight shades invoking a specific memory that went into the creation. Carefully replacing them in the drawer with the rest of his Pleasing pieces, ensuring nothing clinked together too hard with the sticker bundle staying together, he allowed himself a moment with the full collection under the bright light of his bathroom. It was near perfect, seeing it all together. All that was left to sample was the apparel that had been drafted up a few weeks prior with Harry Lambert's guidance, and the extra accessories they were debating on adding in the collection.
He had a feeling (Y/N) would fight to take the samples from him. The idea had a small smile spreading on his lips by the time he was flicking his bathroom light off and padding back to his room. 
By the time Harry bundled himself in his bedding, his phone settled away in his bedside table, he shuttered his eyes though he could still see the ghost of (Y/N)'s excited face on the inside of his eyelids. Just as much as he hoped she would notice the names of the polishes, catch the fact that the stickers were an ode to her, the apparel made with her form in mind, scents formulated to sweep over her skin, he feared she wouldn't notice in the same way she'd never noticed him in the way he wanted. 
Did she remember the yellow dress she wore to the first live show she could make it to? (Y/N) barely ever wore lipstick these days, did she even have that tube of red anymore? Did she ever listen to Woman and hear the words he was too scared to say to her every time she introduced him to a new boyfriend?
The idea needled at the center of his chest just as it always had when he was reminded that he was years into an infatuation that had no sign of ending either from sweet reciprocation or his heart moving on.
Nonetheless, he thought, grasping at positivity as always, he was going to revel in the reactions she gave him as if it were for himself. Those delicate compliments and the joyous excitement, he would hold tight as if they were for who he was and not something that he made. 
And, probably try to convince her to be a part of the product shoot. 
—————
      i'm here !! 🍣🍣
(Y/N) pocketed her phone as she approached the small gate surrounding Harry's home, the concrete divider and plethora of greenery giving privacy to the space. The bag of takeaway sushi hung at her side, the hood of her coat lifted over her head in case there was anyone around hoping to spot a glimpse of Harry's personal life and spin whatever tale. 
She didn't have to check if her text went through, having to wait only a moment before she heard him make his way from his front door and going through the protective greenery. "(Y/N)," he sang through the trees, the syllables of her name sifting through the plants. 
"Harry," she reciprocated, a smile spreading across her lips at the familiar greeting. 
Swinging open the gate, Harry welcomed her in with his hair held back in a familiar flower clip and dimples thumbed into his cheeks. She quickly stepped over the threshold, heading towards his porch while he locked the gate behind her. Only a beat after the click of the lock sounded, he fell into step beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulders. 
"Hi," he smiled, dimples clear on his cheeks as he gazed down at her. 
"Hi," she answered, her own features curling and softening. Feeling his eyes on her face, she took on the responsibility of guiding them towards the front door without stumbling through his garden. "Sorry I'm late. The sushi place was packed for some reason today." 
"Yeah?" he sounded, voice decidedly softer than just a beat before, "'M sorry. I would have gone if I'd known it would be that busy." 
"It's alright," she told him, leading them through his front door to which he dropped his arm from around her to instead shut and lock the door, "I just figured it wouldn't be so bad since they just opened, but everyone else probably had the same idea."
Placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table, (Y/N) shed her jacket and the knitted beanie covering her head. She had another question on her lips as she turned to face Harry once more, though that line died once she took in his outfit for the day. 
"What are you wearing?" 
A small smile spread over his lips at her words though he didn't offer his own response. 
His legs were covered in athletic joggers, the same heather green ones he always seems to be wearing lately, but that wasn't what caught her attention. Draped over his torso was a delicately pink crewneck, thick and warm, with Pleasing scripted across the center of the chest in a mauve shimmer. 
"That's new, isn't it?" she prodded, stepping towards him with her eyes on the shimmering puff print on the crewneck. He had mentioned something about adding apparel to the polish collection she'd been shown last week, but he didn't offer any specific details. 
"Maybe," he teased, "Do you like it?" 
Reaching his arms out, he let her see the full piece, including the glittery stitching that ran through the garment and drew her eyes along his form. She stepped towards him, running a finger along the seam at the cuff of the sleeve. 
"I love it," she smiled, "I didn't know you were making these." 
"I know—I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her, his arm flexing under her fingertip before dropping back to his side with his hands sliding into his pockets, "I know you've been wanting a pink one since the first set came out, so I thought it was finally time." 
"For Valentine's Day?" she bubbled, thinking back to the samples he'd shown off to her the week before. 
Something flashed over his eyes as they dropped from hers, taking in the rest of her features. "Something like that, yeah." 
"Do you have any more?" Before he even answered, she couldn't help herself but to start edging towards the stairs bordering the wall behind her. 
A plume of laughter fell from Harry's lips, catching her with his palm landing on her arms before she could scurry away. "No," he drawled as he pulled her back towards him, "But, you can have this one if y'want." 
"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes wide as she fixed her gaze on him, hands on his chest over the puff print of the lettering. "I don't want to take it if this is the only one you're testing right now." 
Harry shrugged her off, his hands on her arms sliding down in a lingering drag before they finally fell back to his sides. "'S alright. No one knows yet, anyway." 
Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his to peruse over the glimmering neckline of the crewneck. "I don't want you to get it in trouble, though, if you give it away." 
He scrunched his features, shaking his head as if what she said was completely incredulous. "(Y/N), I made it for you." 
His words were cemented as he began pulling the piece off completely, leaving him in only the vintage shirt he'd had on underneath, the print faded and unfamiliar. He shoved the garment in her arms, a waft of his scent enveloping her. 
(Y/N) hesitated for long enough that Harry had to have noticed, prompting him to set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Really, lovie. 'S alright. I don't want y'to have to wait to get your own." 
Relenting, she fell into his chest, Harry wrapping his arms around her with a laugh rumbling his chest under her cheek. "Thanks, H. I promise I won't wear it out or anything until you announce it, though." 
She could feel him smile when he buried his nose into her hair, his arms pulsing around her a snug embrace. 
For a brief moment, (Y/N) let her eyes close as she sunk into his arms. The fragrance of his washing detergent and the lingering scent of his cologne that had sunk into every fiber of his home washed over her. There were times she could see her friendship with Harry moving into territory she'd been too fearful to even explore in her imagination, but feeling his embrace and the words I made it for you ringing in her ears, she could be coaxed to imagine a lot of things with him.
Before she could run too far away in her head, she drew away with a bright smile, hoping he didn't catch the warmth under her skin. 
"We need to eat before our soup gets cold," she told him, stepping towards the couch with her new crewneck in her arms. 
Harry followed after her, becoming a warm shadow as he took his seat next to her. It wasn't until all of the containers were distributed out from the bag, and (Y/N)'s new sweatshirt was folded carefully at her side that he peeked at her from where he was stirring his miso soup. 
"I do have one condition with the crewneck," he murmured, taking a spoonful of tofu and seaweed. (Y/N), her own mouth full with a wonton, raised her brow in response. Taking his time to swallow, his words hanging in the air for a beat, Harry finally followed up with, "We might need an extra model for the Valentine's campaign."
"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, a furrow pinching at her brows. "Do you need me to ask someone? I think I still have a couple of numbers of some of the people from your music videos if you want me to reach out." 
A sheepish smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips. "No, I mean... Would you want to be a model? The shoots in a few weeks, so." 
Pushing her chopsticks against the wontons floating in her soup, (Y/N) wasn't sure how to respond. "H, you know I'm not a model or anything—like, you remember that, right?" 
He laughed at her remark. "Yes, I remember. This one's going to be really special, though, and a lot of fun. I want you to be in it—if you're comfortable." 
She mulled over his words, rolling the short I want you around her head. "And this is a condition of taking the crewneck home with me today?" 
A single dimple touched his cheek. "Something like that," he tilted his head, stirring his miso soup into a slow vortex, "I am doing you a favor, aren't I?" 
She nudged his shoulder with her own, rolling her eyes. "You said it was made for me, how is it a favor to give it to me?" she teased, only shaking her head when he laughed at her. 
A beat passed before Harry returned his eyes to her, his features softened and warm. "Really, it would mean a lot to me if y'were a part of this shoot. At least think about it?" 
"I can do that," she compromised, seeing her best friend in front of her even if his words touched a separate part of her shoved into a box in the back of her mind, "I'll think about it, and let you know." 
It was the way that his smile bloomed across his features, something bright unfurling in his eyes that (Y/N) was sure she already had her decision pocketed away. 
—————
As Molly stood in front of the slew of models and talent sitting in wait for the day, Harry stood behind her as if to read the agenda in her hands even if all he really did was sweep his eyes towards (Y/N) standing at the end of the line. 
"First up is the pink side of the campaign," Molly read off, presenting the information with a smile while others ran around behind her setting up for the double shoot that would be happening, "Nail techs will be coming around to make sure everyone has something on their nails—remember which group you're in so we get the correct colors on your nails. Hair and makeup will follow afterwards..." 
There was more Molly was saying, the outline of the day being extra exhausting given there were two different aesthetics being achieved today, but Harry was much more focused on the extra model at the shoot. 
Truly, he hadn't thought (Y/N) would accept. He knew it was much for her to be in front of a camera like this, seeing as his own need for privacy definitely had rubbed off on her, so he hadn't been surprised that she had lagged on her response for a week. It was when she had called asking about details of the shoot, wanting to know about the times and location, and just how long they would be needed on set, all followed up with a chirped I'll be there! that had surprised him. It wasn't until that call that he planned on being on set all day, having previously only meant to pop by for a few hours before leaving everyone to get the real work done without him being in the way. That was how he ended up here right at eight a.m., hair back in a pink flower clip (another accessory for the collection), and his eyes searching for (Y/N). 
"Okay, everyone go pick a station and someone from hair and makeup will come help as soon as they can!" Molly dismissed everyone with a smile before turning on her heel and looking around for Harry Lambert. 
Harry stood back with the sets coming together behind him as he watched the line of models scatter towards the lit up tables. There was only one that strayed behind, hands in a bundle at her waist with her wide eyes immediately fixing to him. He didn't hesitate before he stepped towards (Y/N), reaching out to her until his arm was slung over her shoulders. 
"Y'alright?" he murmured to her, voice low compared to the bustle happening around the set. 
"Yeah," she sighed, scanning her gaze along for the last open station, "It's just weird being on set like this when I'm not just here to watch. I don't want to mess anything up." 
He shrugged his shoulders, his arm scrunching around her as he tipped his head. "You're probably going to, but 'm sure Molly or someone will be able to fix it." 
It wasn't until she looked up at him with her mouth a gape and an accusatory light in her eyes that he broke with his laughter. His shrug became a comforting hug as he held her to his side. "'M kidding, lovie. You're going to be jus' fine—we're gonna take care of you, don't worry." 
Harry pulled out the chair to the vanity for her, catching her reflection in the mirror. There was a part of him that, while he watched her, wanted to grab a camera and get his own shots for the campaign. There was nothing more romantic—in the Valentine's spirit—than the quiet moments with a partner; the moments that made it clear they were a team.
He was tugged out of his head when he heard her speak up. "Are you going to be hanging around for the shoot today then? Or are you going home soon?" 
"I'll be here all day," he decided then, setting his hands on the back of her chair as they met eyes in the mirror.
Her gaze brightened, seemingly reflecting back the lights ringing the mirror. "Are you going to be in any of the pictures?" 
It was the bubbling of her voice, the way she beamed at him that had his own lips curling into a small smile. "Maybe." 
It wouldn't be hard to convince his team to let him sneak in a couple of shots. His nails were already done up anyway. 
Before (Y/N) could say much more, one of the three nail techs flittered to her station. Familiar bottles of polish were tucked away in her apron, the pink bottles being placed out on the vanity as she offered (Y/N) a bright smile. 
"Hi," she greeted, eyes landing on Harry for a split second before bouncing away just as quickly. "I'm Mari, I'll be doing your nails this morning. How are you?" 
"I'm (Y/N). I'm doing good, thank you," she chirped, her voice decidedly higher and sweeter than when she had been speaking with Harry a moment before. He nudged her shoulder just a bit, a silent tease. "How are you?" 
"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," Mari said, carefully looking at Harry through the fan of her lashes, "And you, Mr. Styles?" 
"I'm good, thank you," he offered, his voice low with a pleasant smile given to Mari. He could spot the small ticks that gave away just how aware she was of him, he didn't want to make her any more nervous. "I appreciate your help today, Mari. I've seen some of your work, and 'm really excited to see what you can do for us." 
Mari's tan cheeks heated with a small blush bubbling underneath, faint under her skin. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity—really." 
Harry's smile only spread wider when he felt (Y/N) nudge against his hand, her own quiet tease over his dazzling interaction. 
Before she could fluster much more, with all of her supplies spread out on the vanity table, Mari concentrated on (Y/N) once more. "Do you remember which group you were in today, (Y/N)?" 
"I'm actually in both groups today, but I think I'm a part of the pink shoot first," (Y/N) smiled, tilting her chin upwards to peek at Harry upside down, "Right?" 
"Right," Harry affirmed. It was a lot he was putting on her plate, being in both sides of the campaign, he knew that. But, just as he had told her when he laid out the details, it meant a lot to him to see her in both aesthetics. She was the face of the collection in his mind, he couldn't imagine her not pictured in every iteration.
"Long day," Mari muttered, her features school back into a pleasant expression. She plucked her fingers through the bottles, skating over the set of pink varnishes first. "Do you have a preference for what color we use today?" 
At this, (Y/N) looked to Harry once more. "Do you? I'm okay with any of them, but is there something you want me to have for the pictures, or anything?" 
Instinctively, Harry looked to the creamy baby pink shade embedded with opal flecks. He nodded towards the bottle, "That one if that's alright."
"This one?" Mari clarified, picking up the bottle he had in mind.
"Yes, please," Harry smiled, looking towards (Y/N) with his raised brows to which she gave him a small giddy nod. "And some of the stickers if y'have them." 
A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips. He knew she would like that detail. 
"Sounds perfect," Mari bleated, asking for one of (Y/N)'s hands before she started prepping for the manicure. 
With her on hand free, (Y/N) reached for the opal polish to be painted over her fingers. "Do you mind if I look?" 
"Go for it," Mari smiled, concentrating on the alcohol wipe she was swiping over (Y/N)'s nail beds. 
Rolling the bottle around her hand, (Y/N) smiled up at Harry. "Is this the final bottle?" 
"Mhm," he hummed, a sense of pride touching at the center of his chest, "We changed a couple of things from when I last showed you, but this is it." 
He watched her admire the polish, tipping the bottle to and fro as she watched the color inside bubble and shift. The glitters shown in the light, going undetected until catching a ray and sparkling a vivid pink. When he saw her tilt the bottle to catch the name stickered to the bottom, he couldn't help the pulse his hands gave to the back of her chair. 
Would she notice? Was the connecting line thick enough to spot? 
Labeled on the bottom of the bottle was the word lovie printed in white ink on the black sticker. 
"Hey," (Y/N) called, her voice lilting, "That's me!" 
She pulled the bottle towards him, showing off the proof with a warming smile on her lips. 
His lungs squeezed even as he tried to play it off, squinting at the bottle as if reading it for the first time. "It is, isn't it?" 
"Did you do that on purpose?" she asked, alternating her hands once Mari gave a small tap to her wrist. 
"Maybe," he murmured. Did he sound as breathless as he felt?
(Y/N)'s mouth pulled into a bubbly smile—just as bright and attention grabbing as the first time he met her. "Harry," she crooned his name, the syllables cradled on her tongue, "I didn't know you did that. It's so sweet." 
There was a moment where he wondered if this was the moment. Was this the moment to share that of course he would name one of these shades after her, as this whole thing was an ode to his feelings for her. Was this warehouse being used as their set the perfect place to tell her what every single shade meant to him and how it was tied to her? It wouldn't be so bad, he thought. 
Instead, Harry only bashfully shrugged, tipping his shy smile towards his feet. "'M happy y'like it." 
Settling her hands for Mari to begin painting, (Y/N) still kept her attention tipped towards Harry. "Is that why you wanted me to be in the shoot?" she asked, leaning towards where he was still stationed behind her chair, "So, there's, like, platonic love in there too for Valentine's?" 
Harry's lungs squeezed for a different reason this time. Platonic love between friends. That's why he named a polish after her in his most romantic collection to date. 
"Something like that," he settled on, hoping she didn't catch the way his smile fell just a hair. 
Though (Y/N) parted her lips to offer a response, she was cut off before she could take a breath. Harry Lambert was fluttering by the stations, keeping an eye on every model readying for the campaign before he met Harry. 
"Sue, would you help me bring in all the clothing, please?" he asked, a tenor of stress entering his voice. 
Breaking away from (Y/N)'s chair, Harry didn't hesitate before nodding his head. "Course. Where do y'need me?" 
Vaguely, Harry Lambert pointed towards the set pieces before he shook his head. "Just follow me." 
Absently, Harry tossed over his shoulder to (Y/N), "I'll be right back, lovie." 
When he heard a small okay peep from her, he looked towards her only to see her already blinking at him with admiration in her eyes. No wonder he felt so warm.
—————
Harry was sure his dimples were deep in his cheeks as he leaned over Molly's shoulder, looking at the photos popping up on the computer screen as every shot was uploaded. Unsurprisingly, his favorites were of (Y/N).
Her makeup and hair was done minimally in true Pleasing style, leaving everything sheer and pastel. Her nails were glimmering in the light, dreamy filters to be added to the shots that would accentuate the glitter in the varnish. She looked entirely too cozy in the large pink crewneck clad on her torso and the comfy lounge shorts hugging her hips. Though there was still a stiffness as she transitioned between poses, as if waiting for someone to yell at her to fix her stance, he could see her growing more and more comfortable among the set. She made friends with a few of the other models, making it much easier for her to fit into those group shots and allow her laughter to filter through the room. 
It made him feel an undeniable hint of pride seeing her grow so comfortable in front of the camera. He knew she never much preferred being in front of the camera like this, so every small breath of progress she made had his heart glowing for her. 
Watching every shot come in over Molly's shoulder, Harry was almost disappointed when the photographer called for a cut; the lighting needed to be adjusted apparently with extra props being brought in before the focus would shift to the colorful end of the campaign. He stepped back, giving however many assistants were helping out all the space they needed to take care of every minute change. 
As the models scattered, (Y/N) made a beeline back towards Harry, ushering out of the way as quickly as possible. With everyone distracted, he didn't hesitate before he draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug. 
"How are y'feeling?" he asked, offering her a quiet smile, "Y'look like you're having fun." 
(Y/N) leant into him, her cheek smushed against the blocked muscle of his chest. "I am, but I'm getting tired. I don't know how you do this all the time." 
A breath of laughter left his lips at her mumbling. "'S surprisingly exhausting, isn't it? Being the center of attention really takes a lot out of a person." 
"No wonder you can fall asleep anywhere," she mused, playing along, "Your life is so hard." 
"I've been trying to tell you," he smiled, pulsing his arms around her when he realized just how hard she was leaning into him. 
She'd been on her feet from the second she had her makeup and hair finished and there were still hours left of her day, even after lunch was served. As much as he was teasing, he was sure she truly was rather exhausted with this being her first time being more than a spectator on set. 
A companionable silence settled between them, Harry not needing to peek to know that she'd had shuttered her eyes while he hugged her. From the corner of his eye, there was a familiar production assistant flittering around with the polaroid camera Harry Lambert had passed off earlier in the day, tasked with documenting the day for behind-the-scenes content. Like a sixth sense, Harry swore he could feel the lens focusing on him and (Y/N), but he didn't flinch back or turn to spot the assistant. 
Instead, he stayed right where he was with (Y/N) in his arms even when the camera clicked and light flashed over the space. 
—————
"I'll be done in, like, ten minutes, 'kay?" Harry murmured, dropping his bag by the station (Y/N) had claimed for the day, "Lambert said there were only a couple of totes left, so I won't take long." 
"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, matching his eyes in the mirror as she pulled out makeup wipes, "I should be done by then." 
Harry lingered behind her for a moment, eyes bright in the reflection, before he stepped away. (Y/N) felt her skin warm in his wake, heart fumbling in its beats before she settled in her chair. She made a point to fix her attention to the makeup wipe she was skimming over her skin, keeping her eyes forward instead of following after him. 
The other models had cleared out as soon as the photographer had called for a wrap, leaving production behind to clean up and clear out for the night. Harry had, of course, volunteered to help clean as much as he could for the night causing (Y/N) to stay back with him. She had helped break down stations and pack props before finally retiring to the final standing station so she could get un-ready herself. 
From her peripheral, (Y/N) spotted Molly bustling around, trusty clipboard in hand. Catching her eye in the mirror, Molly finally paused her constant rushing with her muscles visibly relaxing. 
"I've barely been able to talk to you today," Molly said in greeting as she approached (Y/N)'s station, gifting a small hug with an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for helping out today." 
"Of course," (Y/N) smiled, the bulbs around the mirror catching the shimmering stickers on her nails that only made her smile stretch wider. "Thank you for letting me be a part of the shoot. I had a lot of fun." 
Molly shifted her weight and leant against (Y/N)’s chair, her features softened. "I could tell. Harry was so worried for you this morning," she shared, "He felt bad, like he had made you say yes when you didn't really want to do this." 
Wiping the light mascara off her eyes, (Y/N) shrugged, "You know it's not really my thing, but he said this one was really important to him. I'm really happy I did it, though—the collection is gorgeous, you guys really did so well with this one." 
 "All of the ideas were H's, so I can't really take any credit for it. Lambert and I just put it all in production," Molly shared, fondness on her features. "We only told him we wanted to do a Valentine's inspired collection, and he already had all of these ideas. We weren't planning to do a dual release, but he'd had so many that he wanted to add that it turned into what we have now." 
"He didn't tell me that," (Y/N) chirped, feeling herself begin to soften. She had known Harry had a large hand in the creative side of these collections, but she hadn't known that he had brought all of the ideas to the table for this one. "I don't know where he gets all of his inspiration between writing and everything with this. He never stops." 
(Y/N)'s teasing comment prompted Molly to laugh along with her, both of them familiar with how hard Harry tended to push himself both creatively and physically. 
"Like, you don't know," Molly said, amusement carrying over her words. 
A pinch touched at (Y/N)'s brows, her hand slowing over her skin to leave her mascara as only smudges under her eyes. "What do you mean?" 
It was Molly's turn to cant her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked at (Y/N)'s reflection. "I thought that was why you decided to finally be a part of the shoot. That Harry told you." 
For a heartbeat, (Y/N) swore she was in some kind of movie scene. The theatrics of the moment seemed to be blown out of proportion, if only in her eyes. 
"Told me about what?" 
At this, Molly seemingly realized that she may have hinted at something (Y/N) hadn't known anything about. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to keep in her next words, but both of them knew she didn't have much of a choice now that she had started on this avenue. 
"That it's you—the inspiration for the collection. He wasn't very good at hiding it before he finally just told Lambert. All of the shades have something to do with you." 
(Y/N) was hyper aware of Molly's words, even if the sound of her heart pumping began to flood through her ears. 
Strings began to connect throughout the last month since he initially showed her the samples of the polishes. The crew neck he claimed he made with her in mind. The dual collection having four different shades of her favorite color—a fact about her he knew without a doubt. The varnish named after the pet name he had dubbed her as throughout the years, something he had immediately tied to her when she had pointed it out just that morning. 
Maybe it was the new information getting to her head, but more and more pieced itself together. That lingering look he gave her in the mirror just moments earlier felt like more evidence, including the way he held her between shots today, tiny moments that didn't feel out of the ordinary for him. Now those memories could be tinted in rose as moments that were only ordinary because it was between the two of them. 
"Oh," (Y/N) simply sounded, dropping her eyes from Molly's with a flutter of her lashes.
A beat passed before Molly piped up with an apology in her tone. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you knew, or I wouldn't have said anything." 
"No, no, don't be sorry!" (Y/N) rushed, turning in her seat to match her eyes truly, "It's okay, I'm just surprised." 
Casting her eyes around the dwindling room, Molly lowered her voice by the time she matched (Y/N)'s gaze once more. "Good surprise?" 
Before (Y/N) could give an answer—one she wasn't even sure of—Harry joined their group, He reached towards his bag on the vanity, lookin at the two women with a question in his eyes. "Did you need a couple more minutes?" he asked, not-so-discreetly looking at the shadows left under (Y/N)'s eyes. 
She could feel her stilted smile on her lips, but (Y/N) hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "Why? Did I miss something?" 
Molly made a quiet getaway with a quick pat to Harry's shoulder, taking his attention for a moment as he gave a small way and murmured his goodbye. For a split second, Molly shot (Y/N) a sheepish glance before she was hustling through the space once more. 
When Harry returned to (Y/N), his gaze was scrutinizing this time, a pinch to his brows as he ducked his head to be level with her. 
"I don't think so, no," he said, answering her teasing remark. Reaching out, he gently dragged his fingertips over the soft skin of her under eye, picking up some of the smudgy mess on the pads of his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, a stillness touching her muscles she hoped he wouldn't catch. He made a show of inspecting his hands with a comically deep frown on his lips. "Thought I saw something, but, no, y'got it all. Ready to go?" 
Looking at her through the fan of his lashes, (Y/N) saw the teasing gleam to his eyes, though she swore there was something more floating in his irises. 
Had that always been there?
"Um," she mumbled, dropping back into the moment, "Yeah, I'm ready." 
The amusement in Harry's eyes faded at her stilted answer. Creases appeared between his eyes as he gazed at her, his bag loose in his hand. "Y'alright?" 
"Yeah," she attempted to chirp, hopping out of her chair, "I think the day is just catching up to me and all. Just got really tired." 
"Well, then," he started, standing to the full of his height before slinging an arm over her shoulder, "let's get y'home, lovie." 
When he gave a small pulse to the cuff of her shoulder, his fingers denting the soft of her arm, (Y/N) tried to remember if it always felt that charged when he touched her. 
—————
"Hey, you." 
Harry held back a sigh when (Y/N) reached his open arms, burying his nose into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his middle. He settled instead for shuttering his eyes and sinking into her hold. It'd been a long week since he'd seen her last after taking her home after the Pleasing shoot; both he and (Y/N) seemed to be too busy to send more than a few texts to one another throughout the day. It wasn't a secret to him that (Y/N) was the brightest party of his day, but he hadn't realized just how good he had it until she had pulled back those days. 
"How are you?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice muffled from the way her cheek was squished against his chest, "I feel like I've barely talked to you since last week." 
"Me too," he said, drawing away just enough to see her face with his arms a warm loop around her, "I've been alright, though. You?" 
Her eyes skated down his features long enough Harry swore he could feel her gaze like a touch from her hand. His skin warmed in her wake, a pinkened blush surely rising to the surface of his cheeks. 
"I've been good," she finally answered, the heartbeat between his question and her response seeming hours long instead of mere seconds. "Just tired still. I feel like I haven't recovered from last weekend, yet." 
"'M not surprised, y'worked hard." Harry dropped himself back into the moment, clearing his throat. "Molly emailed me some preliminary shots the other day." 
Perking up in his arms, her eyes brightening. "She did? How did they look?" 
A lopsided smile poked at the corner of his mouth. "I can show you, if y'want. Jus' need to grab m'laptop from m'room." 
All it took was a giddy nod from her and a quiet yes, please! that had him untangling from her arms and heading towards his room.
As much as he wanted to stay right where he was in her arms, he needed a breath of air. Perhaps distance, no matter how small it was, really did make the heart grow fonder and Harry wasn't immune to the effects. 
His paces were measured as he scaled his stairs to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop from where it was charging on the side of his bed. The email in question wasn't hard to find, especially since one of his favorite shots—the polaroid one production assistant had nabbed of he and (Y/N) snuggling during a break—was now his home screen on his phone. (And, one of (Y/N)'s official shots was now her contact photo). 
Heading downstairs, he found her already making herself at home on his couch. With a blanket his mom had knitted for him thrown over her legs, she was scrolling through her phone despite the streaming service pulled up on his television. 
"Comfy already, lovie?" he laughed, crossing from the landing to take his own spot next to her. 
"A little," she answered, decidedly reserved in her teasing. That had been much of how it was this past week, (Y/N) too distracted, or tired, or whatever it was to play with him too much. He hoped it truly was nothing more than being a little tired. 
Leaning in close, he settled his laptop on his thighs as he pulled up the attachments.  Beginning to card through the photos, he offered a short explanation, "They're not edited completely yet, but we've got some of the effects added. We're still picking which shots are going to be used for the site and which will be used for the socials, but it all turned out really well." 
Even as every picture lit up his screen, the pad of his finger on the touchpad, Harry favored watching (Y/N)'s reactions as opposed to looking at the shots themselves. He wanted to know if she loved it as much as he did. 
The bright colors cast washes of pale color over her skin, shining like the moon at times with others giving a petal softness to the high points of her face. He could tell when a picture of her appeared with the way she rolled her lips between her teeth, a quiet bashfulness softening the edges of her features. 
"Wait, wait, go back," (Y/N) asked, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at a missed photo. 
Peeling his gaze away from her profile, Harry looked to his laptop to see the photo that had caught her attention was the same one that he favored. An artistically framed shot of their polaroid filled his screen, the nature of the camera already giving fuzzied edges to their forms, an extra set of dreamy editing adding that much more to the sight. 
"Y'like this one?" he murmured, a delicate edge to his voice. 
"When did they take this one?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper for only him to hear. 
"During that break, remember? Lambert and Molly had an assistant going around to get production shots, and they caught us," he smiled, reliving that moment with her in his arms and the warmth of her form against his, "We're thinking about using this in one of the social shots." 
(Y/N) was silent then, her eyes flitting over every pixel that made up the photo. He hadn't expected her to go so quiet. 
"But, we don't have to use it if y'don't want to," Harry carefully offered, already rearranging the composition of the offered rollout to accommodate her if she was so uncomfortable. "I can talk to Mo—" 
"No, no, that's not—" she started, stumbling some through her words when she managed to meet his eyes finally, "I just... Can I ask you something?" 
The connotations of the phrase had Harry's heart fumbling and palms sweating right away. "'Course. What is it?" 
Hesitating as she rolled her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) let his words hang between them for a few heartbeats too long. 
"Molly told me something after the shoot," she started, her words careful and calculated, "I wanted to know if it was true." 
He couldn't imagine what Molly would have shared that would have had (Y/N) so cryptic and unsure. "Okay," he offered, drawling over the word. 
"She said..." (Y/N) paused, dropping her eyes from his until they landed on the hollow of his throat—a safe place to look when she was too afraid of his reaction. His palms became that much more clammy. "She said something about how this collection was about... me. That you told Harry that you had all these ideas because they were from me." 
In the same moment that time attempted to stop, everything in Harry's body went into overdrive. Was it safe to feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat? Was it normal to want to suck in more air than his lungs needed? 
What was he supposed to say to that?
More importantly: what answer did (Y/N) want to hear? 
Would she be excited to hear that yes, everything Molly had told her was true and he just didn't know how to tell her himself. It was easier to manifest it all into cute little nail polishes and matching stickers. Or did she want him to say no, Molly's imagination had run a bit too wild, or she had heard him wrong, or, or, or—
"Yes," he suddenly blurted out, his mouth ahead of his brain. 
(Y/N) blinked at him. Her eyes floated back to his, bewildered at his blunt answer. "Yes, it's true?" 
The dam that was his filter had too big of a crack to be properly repaired, it appeared. There was no holding back the river. 
"Yes," he affirmed, a weight in his chest pushing the words out before he could offer more thought, "The—um—the yellow one with the gold glitter, it matches the dress y'wore the first time y'came to one of m'shows. And, pink is your favorite color, so I wanted to make as many different ones as we could so you'd have as many as y'wanted to wear. I don't even know if y'have this lipstick anymore, but the red was to match the one y'were wearing when we met. A-All of them are for—about you." 
By the time he managed to zip his lips, there was still plenty to be said but he figured the rambling was more than enough to both humiliate himself and put (Y/N) on the spot. 
The longer she didn't say anything in response, the more Harry sweat. His thoughts were nothing but a swirl heading down a drain, too heavy and incoherent to make sense of.
"(Y/N), I—I didn't m—" 
As quick as he opened his mouth like a guppy, fumbling over his words, he was silenced with (Y/N) pressing her kiss to his lips. 
It was startling at first, taking every ribbon holding him together unraveled, turning him into a scramble. It was only when he felt a careful smile spread over her mouth and she drew away a hair that Harry came alive. 
This was what he'd dreamt of, why was he wasting it? 
Molding his lips to hers, Harry tasted the soft curve of her cupid's bow when he tucked his bottom lip between her two. Faint traces of a fruity chapstick remained on her mouth, though the only taste he got was her. There was no other way to describe the fragrance other than it being (Y/N). Every soft parting and letting of their mouths gave him a rush of that essence, pulling him in deeper and deeper each time. 
The laptop on his thighs was a forgotten object as he turned his body to face her, the device sliding somewhere among the cushions of his couch. His hand landed carefully on the soft of her cheek, feeling a warmth blooming in her skin under his palm. He could feel every pacing of her muscles, feeling how her body moved for no other purpose than to kiss him. It brought a pinch to his brow, an unfurling happening in his chest he couldn't even begin to unpack right then.
While it wasn't an urgent, explicit kiss, Harry didn't want to pull away first. Hours could have been spent on his couch just like this, if not for the fact (Y/N) decided she needed air more than his kiss. 
Following her cue, he gave her some space when she drew away. Her skin was warm as she blinked her eyes open to match his own. He watched as a smile spread over her lips the longer she looked at him.
"You like me?" 
A peal of laughter fell from Harry's lips, bursting through his chest and filling his bones. 
"Maybe. Why?" 
(Y/N)'s laughter filled the one place his own happiness couldn't fill quite as well: his heart.
—————
     Pleasing's Cupid Collection available now. 
(Y/N) barely noticed the notification sliding down the top of her screen, seeing as she was already on the main page of the brand's website. Refreshing the site, the homepage completely rearranged to showcase the dual collection now available for patrons to browse, her own face flashing in the campaign video playing at the top of the page. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. 
Was this how Harry felt every time he released music? Or really anything for the world to see?
With the way her heart hammered in her chest, she wasn't sure how he survived things like this. 
Another notification pinged at the top of her phone. Pleasing had just made a post on Instagram. 
Tapping on the dropdown, she was taken from the Pleasing page and to her instagram app. The new post popped up automatically. 
The shot showcased a collection of polaroid photos, some of behind the scenes shots of official photos for the campaign and others showing candid moments between the models and production during the making of the shoot. They were all laid out on a satiny pink sheet, a dreamy filter adding gleaming lights and iridescent shifts throughout the page. 
There was one familiar polaroid that caught her eye—one that was barely within frame but something she had seen enough times she could spot with the barest of pixels. Just barely, she could see herself leaning against the chest of someone who was almost completely cut out of the frame, leaving only a set of arms to be seen wrapped around her shoulders with her eyes closed in contentment. 
Just barely, through the haze of the filter, (Y/N) could see a small tattoo on her companion's hand: a black cross. 
As if being summoned by her thoughts alone, those same arms draped themselves around her from where she stood in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's chin settled on her shoulder, looking at her screen as she pulled up the comments on the photos. 
"What's everyone saying?" he murmured, his lips pressing against the column of her throat in a delicate kiss. 
The smile that landed on her lips was tender and instinctual, something that settled there without her permission. She didn't have to truly read any of the commented reactions to know the public's opinion. 
"They love it," she told him, voice a quiet croon. 
"Yeah?" His smile was audible in his tone. "I think this one's gonna be the most popular yet." 
"You think so?" (Y/N) questioned, swiping out of the reactions if only to see the glimpse of their polaroid once more. 
Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, Harry tipped her chin to face him. There was a gleam in his eyes that (Y/N) never realized was so familiar until the first time they kissed. There was a small tug to the corner of his lips, a single dimple denting his cheek. 
"Yeah. I've jus' got a feeling." 
He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers.
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:)))) thank you for reading, so sorry if there's any mistakes and if theres any questions or anything you have please please send them in! I hope you enjoyed :)
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