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allthelovehes · 27 days

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Enemies at Nine, Lovers by Five*

Summary: Harry and Y/N are colleagues who absolutely hate each other. Who know all they needed was a good fuck?

Pairing: Coworker!Harry x reader

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, public sex, unprotected sex, office sex.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N: This is my first ever enemies to lovers fic and I hope I did it right. Also, let me just tell you.. Wrap it before you tap it :')

Masterlist

In the bustling world of corporate offices, Harry and Y/N are two colleagues who can't stand each other. Their desks are situated across from each other, and every interaction between them seems like a battleground. Harry, with his sharp wit and assertive demeanour, clashed with Y/N's independent and equally stubborn nature. Their colleagues often find them caught in the crossfire of their constant bickering.

As Harry is leaving for his lunch break, he accidentally bumps into Y/N and drops a few items from his bag. While helping him pick up the fallen belongings, a few papers fly out from one of the folders. Y/N, in an attempt to quickly gather the loose documents, notices something. They are the divorce papers from Harry's wife, and she immediately knows what that means. She quickly returns the folders to him, apologises, and goes her way.

Harry, on the other hand, is taken aback. Not by the fact that Y/N has seen the divorce papers, but by how she had not reacted to it. He expected her to mock him or throw a witty remark, but instead, she acted as if nothing had happened. Harry is perplexed by her actions.

As time passes, Y/N is still the same to Harry. She treats him the same way as before. They argue, tease each other, and bicker just like they used to. Harry can't comprehend her behaviour. Why is she not talking about the divorce papers? He knows Y/N has a big mouth and likes to share juicy office gossip, so why isn't she saying anything about his divorce?

One day, the office is buzzing with anticipation as the team prepares for an important conference. The air is tense as presentations are being rehearsed, and the conference room is filled with an energy of nervous excitement. As fate would have it, Harry and Y/N are assigned to work on the crucial project together, ensuring that their paths cross more frequently than ever.

They are both frustrated by their predicament. Neither of them wants to work with the other. As they are walking back to their desks after a meeting, Y/N stops in her tracks. Harry turns to look at her.

“Why aren't you talking about my divorce?” Harry asks bluntly. Y/N is taken aback.

“It's none of my business, Harry. It's between you and your wife.” She replies.

“But you know everyone here, and I've heard that you enjoy sharing office gossip. It's not like you to not talk about something like this.” Harry retorts. Y/N rolls her eyes.

“I'm not the kind of person you think I am, Harry. I don't spread rumours. And even if I did, it wouldn't be about you.” She says and continues walking towards her desk.

Harry watches as she walks away. Her words echo in his mind. Could she really not be the person he thought she was? Could she be hiding a side of her that he had never seen before? He is curious, intrigued, and even a little impressed.

As the days go by, Harry and Y/N continue working on their project. They argue, debate, and bicker just as much as they did before. Working overtime and spending long hours at the office, they have no choice but to tolerate each other. Tonight is no different, as they finalised their presentation together.

The room is silent, the only sound is the faint hum of the air conditioning unit. Harry and Y/N are seated in the conference room, the space between them filled with the tension of unsaid words and unresolved conflicts. They had spent the entire night working on the presentation and had not spoken a word to each other. The silence was deafening.

“Jesus Christ, can you not?” Harry breaks the silence.

“What are you talking about?” She asks, surprised by his sudden outburst.

“I'm talking about the tapping of your pen. You've been doing it for the past 20 minutes.” Harry says, his voice dripping with frustration.

“It helps me concentrate.” Y/N says.

“Well, it's annoying as fuck. Just stop.” Harry snaps. Y/N is stunned. She had never seen him so upset before. She quickly puts down her pen and leans back in her chair.

“You're the most difficult person to work with, you know that?” She mutters under her breath.

“Yeah? Well, you're not a picnic either.” Harry quips. Y/N lets out an exasperated sigh and closes her laptop.

“We're not going to get anywhere tonight. We're both tired and frustrated. Let's just call it a night.” She says.

“Fine.” Harry grumbles before he looks at her, a wave of lust washes over him. “I just think you need to be fucked real good for once in your life.”

Y/N is taken aback by his forwardness.

“Excuse me?” She asks, her tone laced with shock and irritation.

“You heard me. I said you need to be fucked. Hard. It'll take that stick out of your ass.” He replies.

“You're delusional. No wonder your wife left you.” Y/N snaps. Harry's expression darkens.

“You know nothing about my marriage, so keep your fucking mouth shut.” He growls. Y/N stands up and glares at him.

“You don't know shit about me either, yet you have no problem judging me. Fuck you, Harry. I'm done with this conversation.” She spits before gathering her things and leaving the room.

Harry watches as she walks to the door, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Why does he feel so drawn to her, even though she drives him insane? He has always been attracted to her, but tonight is the first time he has actually expressed his feelings. It was a bold move, but the thrill of the moment was enough to overcome his sense of hesitation. He's never had an office affair before, but Y/N makes him want to break all the rules. He strides over to where she's standing, grabs her by the arm, and pulls her close to him.

“You're wrong. I do know you, Y/N. And I know you want me.” He says, his voice low and husky.

“Let go of me, Harry.” She whispers, her voice trembling slightly.

“Why? Because you're afraid of what might happen? You're a strong woman, Y/N. Show me what you've got.” He murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. Y/N feels a rush of adrenaline and arousal course through her body. She's never wanted anyone more than she wants him at this moment. Her lips part as she draws in a shaky breath.

“I don't think this is a good idea.” She says, her resolve weakening.

“Oh, but it is.” Harry whispers before he crashes his lips against hers.

The kiss is intense and passionate, fueled by their pent-up sexual frustration. They tangle their fingers in each other's hair and moan into each other's mouths. Y/N gasps as she feels Harry's hands grip her waist, pulling her even closer to him. She can feel his arousal pressing against her, and it sends a jolt of desire through her body.

“Harry, we can't. Someone could walk in.” She says, trying to catch her breath.

“There's no one at the office at this ungodly hour.” He says, a smirk playing on his lips.

He lifts her onto the conference table and begins to unbutton her shirt. He trails kisses down her neck and chest, and she arches her back. His lips find hers again as he caresses her breasts. He undoes her bra and takes one nipple in his mouth, while his fingers tease the other. She can't hold back her moans any longer, and she runs her fingers through his hair, urging him on. His hands wander down to her pants, and he begins to unbutton them. He slides his hand inside, and she bites her lip as he brushes his fingers against her clit.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” He groans.

He pulls her pants off and tosses them aside before he kneels before her, his face level with her dripping core. He hooks his arms around her thighs and pulls her to the edge of the table. He places her legs over his shoulders and spreads her lips apart. He looks up at her, his gaze hungry and lustful.

“Are you ready?” He asks, his voice thick with desire.

She nods, and he dives in, his tongue flicking against her swollen clit. She throws her head back and grips the edge of the table. His mouth is hot and insistent as he eats her out. She writhes against the table, her hips bucking against his face.

There is something powerful in having her naked in front of him while he's still fully clothed. He is in control, and she is his. She can feel her orgasm building as he licks and sucks at her core. She reaches down and tangles her fingers in his hair, holding him in place. He groans, the vibrations sending shivers up her spine.

“Harry, please.” She gasps. He doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around her clit before plunging into her. She cries out, her climax crashing over her in waves. Her legs shake as she rides the waves of pleasure. He looks up at her, his chin glistening with her juices.

“That was... Fuck, Harry, that was amazing.” She says, breathless. He smirks.

“I know what I’m capable of.” He says, his voice deep and husky.

“Your turn.” She says.

She slides off the table and pushes him down into a chair. She unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. He lifts his hips, allowing her to pull his pants and boxers down. She takes his hard cock in her hand and strokes him. He groans, his head falling back as she pleasures him. She sinks to her knees and takes his throbbing member into her mouth.

He hisses, his eyes rolling back in his head. She swirls her tongue around the tip before taking him deeper into her mouth. His hands fist in her hair as he thrusts his hips. She gags a little, but she doesn't let that stop her. She looks up at him, her gaze filled with lust and hunger. He can barely stand it. He has to have her.

“Fuck, Y/N. Your mouth is so fucking hot. You're gonna make me come.” He says, his voice ragged with desire. She moans, the sound sending shivers through his body. She continues to bob her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper with every stroke. His breathing becomes shallow, and his grip on her hair tightens.

“I'm close, baby. I'm so close.” He groans before she quits her actions, completely ruining his orgasm.

“You don't happen to have a condom on you, do you? Because I certainly don't.” She asks.

“Shit, no. I don't.” Harry curses, realizing his lack of preparation.

She rises to her feet and straddles him. She grinds her dripping core against his rock-hard cock.

“I just need you inside me, Harry.” She whispers, her voice heavy with lust. He groans, the sensation of her hot pussy against his bare skin nearly sending him over the edge. He holds her hips still and looks her deep into her eyes.

“We can't.”

“Why not?” She whines, desperate for him as she grinds herself on him.

“We don't have a condom, Y/N.”

“So? It's fine, I'm on birth control.” She assures him, her need for him overriding her usual cautiousness.

“We still can't.”

“Please, Harry?” She begs.

He pauses, searching for the right words. “If I have sex with you, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop.”

“Good.” She smiles.

Her hands wrap around his neck, and she pulls him in for a passionate kiss. Their tongues explore each other's mouths, and their bodies are pressed against each other. The heat is almost unbearable, and they can't get enough of each other.

Harry gets up on his feet and turns them around, pinning Y/N against the wall. He lifts her legs around his waist, and her arms wrap around his neck, their bodies perfectly aligned. He reaches between them and guides himself into her. They moan in unison as he fills her, stretching her tight walls. He pulls back and slams into her, making her gasp in surprise.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, his voice is husky and full of need.

“Yes.” She breathes. “Fuck me, Harry.” He obliges, setting a relentless pace. She writhes against him, her nails digging into his back. The pain and pleasure mix, and it's intoxicating. He buries his face in her neck and bites down on her soft flesh. She cries out, her voice echoing in the empty room.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans. She clenches around him, and he almost loses it.

“Harder.” She begs.

He slams into her, driving her back against the wall. He lifts her and moves to the conference table, laying her down and positioning himself over her. He grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.

“I want you to look at me when you come.” He commands. She meets his gaze, her eyes dark and full of lust. He thrusts into her, and she lets out a cry. She's so close.

“Harry, I'm going to come.” She gasps.

“Not yet.” He growls. “You'll come when I tell you to.”

He picks up the pace, his movements rough and urgent. She can barely breathe. The tension is too much. He simply stares down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of dominance and tenderness. He knows she's on the verge of breaking.

“Come for me.” He says, his voice is deep and commanding. She explodes around him, her whole body convulsing with pleasure. She screams, and the sound is music to his ears. He slams into her relentlessly, not even caring about the possibility of overstimulating her. All that matters is her. He can feel her clenching around him, and it's almost enough to send him over the edge.

“I'm gonna come.” He groans, his hips moving faster.

“Inside me.” She pleads. “I want to feel you.”

“Fucking hell, you know I can't do that.” He growls and pulls out just in time, spilling his seed on her stomach. She reaches between them and strokes him through his orgasm, coaxing every last drop from him. They're both breathing heavily, their bodies covered in sweat.

“Fuck, that was…” Harry pants, struggling to find the words.

“Yeah.” Y/N agrees. They smile at each other, and something passes between them. It's a moment of pure connection, and neither of them wants to break it. But then the reality of the situation comes crashing down on them, and the spell is broken.

Harry stands up and grabs a handful of napkins from the table. He hands them to Y/N and helps her clean up. When they're done, they dress in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Harry breaks the silence first.

“I'm sorry.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N turns to look at him, her eyes wide with confusion.

“For what?”

“For taking advantage of the situation. For crossing a line that should never have been crossed.” He explains before Y/N shakes her head.

“Don't apologize. I wanted it just as much as you did.”

“Still, I shouldn't have let it happen.” Harry sighs.

“Maybe not.” Y/N agrees. “But there's no use dwelling on it now. What's done is done.”

Harry nods, his expression conflicted. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the words die on his lips. There's nothing left to say. Y/N finishes dressing and walks towards the door. She stops and turns to look at Harry, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She says softly.

He doesn't reply. He simply watches as she walks out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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onlystylesangels · 6 years

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Confessions Hurt

Summary: Where Y/N has a confession and she doesn't know if she should tell Harry about it.

"What is it love?"

"Harry I've been meaning to tell you this way before but I have to come clean right now."

Warnings: Just some fluff for this one

Word Count: 690

Enjoy your reading! :)

Harry and y/n have been friends before things started to get hectic. Y/n has been trying to get a job and Harry was stressed out over the relationship he had with his girlfriend Betty.

There were no longer late movie nights, there were no more sleepovers where Harry and y/n would start and end the tickle fights. They just didn’t hang out as much.

But today was different.

Harry had a chance to get a hold of you and he wanted to come to your apartment so you two could watch some movies together like old times.

•••

“So what movie are going to watch sir?” You asked him, as he was just shaking his head.

“Don't call me that Y/N just pick a bloody movie already.”

You were confused, at first you thought this was just going to be a friendly get together but you realized that Harry was not acting like himself. His happy, cheeky self.

“I thought you were going to bring the movies and I was just going to provide the snacks. You know, like what we used to do.”

“I’m sorry I apologize for that Y/N I know I had to bring the films but I just wanted to come and talk to you.”

Y/N takes a sip of her beverage and nods in response, “Okay. What’s on your mind Harry?”

“I just have been having problems with Betty, you know Betty right?”

“Of course, you talked about her a lot during the first months of you dating her.” You acknowledged.

“It’s just I don't know if I can continue with this silly relationship, we are on and off most of the fucking time. It’s fucking stressful Y/N.”

You have raised your eyebrows in encouraging Harry and trying to understand his personal conflicts but at the same time you were not ready in giving him the advice that he hopes he can get from you.

“I think you should just take a break.” You advised him.

“A break?” He sounded puzzled.

“Yea. I mean you are both on and off and I highly believe that Betty also overthinks about your relationship. So, my best advice is for you both to take a break.”

“Are you actually serious love? I mean I was just kidding, but this was really good advice love.” He smirked, trying to keep in his laugh but failed and started to laugh.

“You little shit.” You felt embarrassed and put your head in your hands as Harry continued to laugh.

“I’m sorry Y/N that was rude of me, I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed of yourself.” He has calmed himself and made his way to the couch that you were sitting in and embraced you into his arms.

His arms tightly wrapped around you as you continued to overthink the events that have just happened.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you Y/N I never meant to hurt you love.”

You unwrapped yourself from his tangling arms and looked him straight in his green irises. “Then why did you come here?”

He caressed your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I wanted to see my best friend. And I just wanted to be here to be a guidance because you lost your last job.”

You have lost your job at a nearby café and you have told Harry about it a couple weeks back but he couldn’t really spend time with you during those past few weeks.

“It sucks Harry. Trying to find a job and especially a job that is near here.” Harry has wrapped his strong arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know love I know. Let’s just forget about that for now because I don't want you to feel down about this.”

And that is what exactly what Harry did, he has made you laugh at his dumb little jokes and you both ended up watching your favorite romantic comedies and you haven’t felt happiness in a long time with your best friend.

And that is something that you fear losing. Harry and the friendship you both have.

A/N: Was this good? This is my first imagine and I feel like this was terrible. Please let me know what you thought.

All my love to you all -A. ❤️

#harry styles #first imagine #harry #styles #readerxharry #harryxy/n

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isimpoveryou · 3 years

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deja vu

harry styles x reader

face claim: olivia rodrigo

hello everyone im so glad everyone is enjoying my sour series! im so happy i cant even express anything except thank you. so for todays update i decided to write harry styles fake instagram post with my fav song in the album. now before we start pls remember this story is fictional and no hate to both olivia wilde's and harry styles relationship. i hope you enjoy todays update everyone <33

warning: age gap??

liked by hsupdated.la, y/nupdates.italy, and 12,829,090 others

harrystyles.only.angel NEW!! Harry Styles was seen walking out of (y/n) (l/n) favorite ice cream store in italy with his new girlfriend Olivia Wilde (36). Source said they shared strawberry ice cream together.

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harrykiwi didnt harry and y/n shared strawberry ice cream together??

harrystyles.only.angel YESS!! it gives me deja vu

hsupdates.la WAIT WHAT?!?!

y/nupdates.la i actually saw them.....

harrystyles.babe SAME!! they were so close

harrystylesbitch i feel something is going to happen

liked by florencepugh, kendalljenner, and 22,009,990

yourinstagram strawberry ice cream one spoon for two

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y/nlovesfoods pls be a new song PLSSS

- yourinstagram liked this comment -

harrycherry WAIT NEW SONG?!?! AND ALSO I UNDERSTAND THAT CAPTION

florencepugh BEAUTY EVERY WAY

yourinstagram ALL YOU BABE

y/nxharry if this is abt harry.......pls release it

kendalljenner 🤫

yourinstagram 🤫🤪

y/n.happier ^^ its so weird to see them interacting

liked by mitchrowland, clairo, and 12,789,091 others

yourinstagram so when your gonna tell her that we did that, too?

view all 467,098 comments

y/nupdates.italy THIS IS ABT HARRY

y/n.angel ^^IM NOT READY AAAAAA

harrystyles.falling SIST YOUR BRAVE BRAVE

yourinstagram 😩😩 the best compliment ever

mitchrowland doing great 👍

yourinstagram I CANT BELIEVE MY EYES!! did mitch just compliment me??

mitchrowland im regreting everything

harryxy/n ^^^ ELITE FRIENDSHIP

clairo hottie

yourinstagram you me you??

liked by gemmastyles, annetwist, and 26,718,009 others

yourinstagram DEJA VU IS OUT NOW! thank you for all of the support from my friends, family, and fans, i love you all so much xx

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y/n.watermelon SO WHEN YOU'RE GONNA TELL HER THAT WE DID THAT TOO

y/n.dejavu SHE THINKS ITS SPECIAL BUT ITS ALL REUSED

harrystyles.cherry THIS IS THE BEST SONG EVER

gemmastyles im so proud of you, y/n/n

yourinstagram stopp your making me cry

harrystyles.updates BESTIE REALLY JUST DID THAT

annetwist ❤🤗

yourinstagram love you, anne

●

- harrystyles like your post -

#harry styles imagines #fake instagram harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles #famous!reader #fake instagram #social media au #instagram au #olivia rodrigo #x reader

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cherriesfineline · 3 years

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savior next door

im on a writing trance so expect a lot of writings from me hehe, here's what i wrote last night, enjoy besties.

- fluff & a tiny little bit of smut (not really lol) | not proofread, sorry

Pairing: HarryxY/N

WC: 3.8k

the one where Harry is Y/N's shy and virgin neighbor.

The constant feeling of uneasiness has been haunting Harry ever since he almost got himself in a car accident almost a year ago.

It hadn’t been his fault – he was crossing a random street in a quiet area of New York when a hand grabbed his upper arm and pushed him out of the crosswalk, where a car speeded through without even slowing down. “Watch where you’re going, you’re going to get yourself killed.” The woman who’d saved his life scolded at him with a worrying look on her face. He remembers her eyes were glowing in such a splendor, something he’d never seen before – it intrigued him to know who his life savior was, but before he could even make a comment, the woman stormed off and got lost between the seas of people around the corner, leaving Harry in an unsuccessful search for her.

Harry has never been a people person. He always avoids big crowds, social events and especially, study groups. His university journey so far has been a lonely and reserved one, having movie marathons when not studying or discovering new kinds of herbal teas. His only form of social interaction is the occasional chat with his across-the-hall neighbor Niall, whom he considered -kind of- a close friend; his only one, in fact.

“Heard someone’s moving in to the flat next to yours.” Niall knows Harry isn’t exactly a social butterfly, and maybe it’s the fact that Harry is younger than him and how he seems like such a harmless human what makes him feel like he needs to help him. Harry just shrugs at his comment, not really interested in any possible intruder to their peaceful hallway (where both their apartments and the currently empty one in the corner were the only three ones on their floor). And maybe it was the fact that it has been almost a month since Niall’s comment what made him furious when he saw the cardboard boxes on their hallway, forgetting about the possibility of having a new neighbor.

The sudden sound of glass crashing and a loud yell snaps Harry out of his frustrated trance, stepping around the huge boxes scattered around the door next to his to knock on the doorway of the open door. Even if he really isn’t very fond of having a new neighbor that doesn’t mean he’s not going to check on them to see if they’ve gotten hurt. “Is everything alright?” He still can’t see whoever is inside, but he decides on waiting if no one replies to step inside. But he doesn’t need to, because as he was about to make his way inside, a head pops up from one side of the entry hallway, assuming that’s where the kitchen is, as he notices the apartment is a replica of his own, but inverted.

“Hey, sorry, just dropped my favorite cup.” His breath gets caught on his throat when her life savior’s face appears in sight, the cutest frown adorning her features and her sweet voice resonating through his brain. Her eyes, exactly like he remembers shine with an unbeatable glow, like a thousand diamonds under a microscope, but the image he had of her on his brain doesn’t make her justice – she is even more beautiful than he remembers. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. You live in this floor?” Harry can’t help but be disappointed at the fact that apparently she doesn’t remember him.

“Y-yes, next door. H-harry.” He stutters. Her presence just makes him so nervous, he can’t help it. She is probably one of, if not the, most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Her eyes are hypnotizing, the softness of them which appears to be constant warms his insides and he thinks he could spend hours upon hours staring right at them.

“Do I know you? I feel like I know you.” Y/N’s thinks out loud, her expression alluding to her thoughts trying to place him somewhere in her memories.

“Uh, I- I don’t think so?” Harry feels embarrassed, so he couldn’t come up with a better answer. He is silently hoping she doesn’t remember the time they met all that time ago – this is his chance, he thinks, to redeem himself, for her to see him as a normal dude instead of this clumsy and shy boy who couldn’t even thank her when she saved him from being ran over by a car.

He wishes he could read her mind. What’s her first impression on him? Does she think he’s cute? She probably doesn’t. He thinks she’s too pretty to even spare a second glance at someone like him; a shy boy with bad posture and still breaking out in his forehead despite being 22. And she, Y/N, a woman who could make anyone her own, a woman who probably makes every head turn her way when entering a room. Harry feels his chest deflate as his thoughts start beating him up.

During the course of her first two months living next door, Y/N and Harry barely interact. He keeps stealing glances her way whenever they run into each other in the hallway, getting shy and cheeks reddening when she catches him every time. He gets jealous whenever he hears her walking down the hallway from inside his apartment, obvious guests coming in and out of her apartment – and if the person (because he recalls hearing both men and women) is good enough, he can even hear her sometimes through the thin wall that divides their bedrooms, her headboard clearly mirroring his. He feels dirty and intrusive during nights like these, so he opts on putting headphones on, music playing in his phone to help him drift off to sleep.

But Y/N is fascinated by him, maybe not as much as he is with her, but enough to wonder how it’d be like to reallyhave him in her life. She knows he’s a very reserved man, her animated chats with Niall more usual than not drift towards Harry and how she wishes he’d just keep looking at her when she catches his eye instead of running away – not because her ego is enormous or anything, but she is aware of the obvious crush Harry has on her. “He’s not going to start conversation, you should just go for it.” She remembers Niall told her one night after having a small chat in his threshold; because all Niall wants is for Harry to put himself out there, but he knows he needs a little extra push.

But it all changes one night. A night Y/N drinks more than usual – shot after shot going down her throat making her feel nothing but dizzy, the sensation of puke going up her throat forcing her to call it a night. Barely making it out of the elevator she stumbles on her way to her door, and Harry hears her. The sound her combat books make is so engraved in Harry’s brain he knows it’s her after just a couple of steps.

“Fuck.” Harry hears the unmistakable sound of her keys, and how she’s clearly struggling to fit them inside the lock. After a loud banging sound and what sounds like her sliding down the door, he starts worrying about her and how she’s probably not going to make it inside her apartment without a little help. So he steps outside after sliding his old white vans on to find her on the floor leaning against her door, legs bent and elbows resting on either knee supporting her head.

“Y/N?” He calls her in a whisper. She shoots her head up immediately making her insides turn, and with unfocused eyes, she looks up at him and smiles fondly.

“Hey, pretty boy.” She greets him with a soft smile, eyes closing and opening again slowly and Harry feels his stomach erupt in a thousand butterflies. Did she just call him pretty boy?

“You need help?”

“Please.” Harry’s red cheeks don’t go unnoticed by her the moment she lifts her hand to give him her keys and she honestly thinks he might explode. He helps her get up and guides her inside her home with such gentle movements she could melt in his hold, and that’s when she decides (drunk out of her mind) she wants him to hold her again, soon. And while sober.

He lays her down in her bed and announces he’s going to take her shoes off, giving her enough time to object. “I always catch you staring, you know?” Her thoughts slip off her lips unannounced, but she doesn’t really care. Harry, on the other hand, freezes in his spot, one of her shoes still in hand and with wide eyes he connects their gazes for the second time that night.

“I- I… I’m sorry- I don’t mean to be c-creepy or anything I j-just-“

“Shh.” She cuts him off, his stuttering making its first appearance of the night. “Didn’t say I don’t like it.” She confesses and wiggles her feet so he can resume his actions. Harry’s brain is betraying him more than usual right now. His thoughts are everywhere, not a single coherent answer coming to mind, so he doesn’t do anything but finish helping her out of her shoes in silence.

“Goodn-night, Y/N.” Harry left her apartment that night after carefully placing a soft blanket over her body and making sure she had a glass of water on her nightstand (he didn’t want to snoop around her apartment for some pills for her hangover, so he just left her with the duty of doing that herself in the morning) and laid in bed with so many thoughts running through his head he barely got an hour of sleep that night.

And that went on for a week. Knowing she was sleeping on the other side of the wall makes him more nervous than before now that he knows Y/N is aware of his constant staring – but who would blame him? She really is a sight for sore eyes. Y/N knocks on his door the following Saturday, and he opens it surprised to find her on the other side, mainly because she’s usually out with her friends by now every Saturday (not that he’s constantly waiting to hear her walk on their hallway, but he truly is always sitting on his living room and the thin walls of their apartment complex don’t provide them much privacy).

“Harry, hi.” She offers him the sweetest smile, but there’s a shy and nervous undertone to it this time. “I just wanted to thank you, for helping me the other night.” She clasps her hands together in front of her and nods with a tight lipped smile. “But I also want to apologize, I know I probably made you uncomfortable with uh, some comments I made.” She slightly scrunches her nose, waiting for his reply.

But Harry is, in simple words, speechless. He can’t believe there’s a sober Y/N who just knocked on his door willingly talking to him. Her voice sounds so melodic and Harry just wants to cuddle her and the giant, soft looking green sweater she’s wearing isn’t helping him ease his thoughts. He wants Y/N to hold him while she talks to him with that sweet voice of hers, he wants to hold her small hands and fill her cheeks and mouth with kisses along with every inch of her body -not that she’d ever let him, Harry thought, but a boy can dream-, but most importantly, he wants to learn every single detail about her. How she likes her coffee in the mornings, or if she prefers tea. In which position she sleeps the most comfortable in and if there’s any TV shows she re-watches just because it brings her comfort. He has so many questions he wants to ask her he completely forgets they’d been standing in his threshold for long minutes, with him just staring at her.

“It’s ok, don’t worry.” He says barely above a whisper, and they stay in their positions for a while, again with no words spoken between them, until he finally gains enough courage to ask, “Do you want to come in?” He opens his door a bit wider with a wary look on his face. Y/N nods, her smile widens and makes her eyes sparkle with that glow Harry is still fascinated by.

They sit in the couch with a long distance between them; farther away from the other than any of them like. Y/N does most of the talking, but she truly doesn’t mind – she talks animatedly about this new show Bridgerton she binge watched last night, Harry making mental notes about most things she says. He wants to remember everything, from the way her voice slightly sharpens when she mentions something she suddenly remembers to the way she moves her hands to accompany her speech; he already loves how expressive she is with her face features, and only confirms how he’d listen to her speak for the rest of his life.

Y/N manages to get more words out of him than she expected, and asks for his opinion or thoughts on most things she mentions. She hates making conversation purely about herself, she wants to know about Harry as much as she can. She wishes he would initiate conversation or switch topics with no shame, but she knows she’s asking for too much. This night alone they interacted more than the last three months combined, and Y/N is grateful for it.

Three chapters of FRIENDS had passed when she finds herself scooting a bit closer to him, carefully trying to read his body language. When he stiffens in his position, she turns her head to look at him. His cheeks are tinted a cute shade of pink, and he’s blinking a lot more than he usually does. He places both hands on his thighs and runs them up and down to get rid of the sweat accumulating on them, and he can’t help but gasp when their thighs touch, meaning she scooted even closer. As if that isn’t enough to kill him, she softly rests her head on his shoulder.

“Is this ok?” Y/N whispers, and he forces himself to turn his head to find her eyes, which are already looking up at him. He slowly nods and makes the dumb mistake of looking down at her lips. He feels the hot embarrassment run up his neck and quickly turns to face his TV again, planning on pretending nothing ever happened.

That is, until he feels the soft skin of her palm and gentle fingers grab his jaw, forcing his gaze back on her. That touch alone makes him feel more than any other human has made him feel in his entire life – but it doesn’t compare to the eruption of jitteriness washing through him when her eyes look down at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry freezes in his spot. He wonders if he heard her correctly, not believing his senses when around her, the possibility of her wanting to kiss him are too low, he thinks, and when he doesn’t respond, she slowly begins to remove her hand from his face, taking a guess on his unspoken rejection. He, for once, reacts quickly enough; he grabs her by her wrist, placing her hand back again in its spot on his jaw, and works enough courage to just go for it. Harry lowers his face to gently envelope her top lip between his own. It’s quick but sweet (just like she had expected their first kiss to be, if she’d ever got lucky enough to experience it) and when he moves away just enough to separate her lips, she wastes no time in connecting them again. This time, the kiss is longer and with more determination than before, and when Harry feels Y/N melt into him, he gains enough confidence to grab her face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss.

They stay enveloped in each other for a while, mouths molding and moving in sync with so many unspoken emotions it feels overwhelming for both – they barely know each other, they’re very aware of it, but the undeniable infatuation they both feel is stronger than they’d ever admit. Y/N feels on her face the long exhale that leaves through Harry’s nose when she softly traces his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and when he meets her tongue with his, the mood that was settled between them switches drastically – from sweet and innocent to needy and passionate.

Harry isn’t very experienced with kissing, let alone with anything past first base. He’d only made out with a girl all the way back in high school during his senior prom, and the girl was so harsh and desperate Harry knew that moment he wouldn’t ever share an intimate moment with anyone again unless he truly felt something for them. Now, he knows it might seem like he’s rushing things in his heart, but he’d do anything with and for Y/N – but he knows he’s not ready just yet.

His nervousness consumes him again when she moves to straddle his lap, making him whimper at the new position. He shakily places his hands next to her legs on the couch, not sure what is too much and what is ok to do. She runs her hands from his jaw down to his shoulders, and moves them all the way down his arms to his hands, giving them a soft squeeze before placing them on her waist and sliding her own back up again towards his neck, never breaking the kiss.

He unintentionally lets a second whimper leave his mouth when she sits herself down on his lap, creating some friction between their groins. He knows he’s hard – he felt his dick grow in his pants the second she touched his jaw, but knowing Y/N could feel it now put him a tad on edge. He separates their lips; their agitated breathing mixing in between them.

“I- I’ve never…” Harry begins, but he’s having a hard time finding the correct words. Y/N understands almost immediately – she’s not proud to admit she had figured he was unexperienced, feeding the stereotype of shy-ergo-virgin, even though she was correct this time.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” Y/N gives him a soft peck and continues, “you can say no, but I’d love to make you feel good, if you’d let me. We can keep our clothes on.” Y/N suggests. If she has to be honest, she hasn’t dry-humped anyone since high school, but the thought of doing it with Harry lights her insides in animalistic flames.

When Harry timidly nods, she shakes her head with her eyebrows raised in a disapproving look, “Use your words, H.”

“I- I want you to- to do it. I- I trust you.” His stuttering makes Y/N’s insides warm, the fact that she makes him nervous amuses her – she’s certain she’s never made anyone this nervous before, but it is the fact that Harry admitted he trusts her what sends shivers down her spine. All she does in response is roll her hips against his – and when he closes his eyes with a pleasured groan leaving his lips, she does it again. Harry’s grip on her waist lowers to her hips, squeezing the flesh that was subtly beginning to get exposed from all the movement, and when he throws his head back Y/N takes advantage of his exposed neck to finally attach her lips to it. Her hold on one side of his face moves to grip his jaw, turning his head slightly to the side so she can suck on the sweet spot behind his ear still rolling her hips on his, and when she pokes the spot with her tongue to soothe the pleasuring sting, he unconsciously thrusts his hips up to meet hers; Y/N can’t help but smile and leave a trail of sweet, wet kisses from his new deepening bruise to the place where his neck meets his shoulders, repeating her actions there to leave a second bruise.

Harry feels his cock twitch in his pants when Y/N rolls her hips with more pressure, and they both know he’s close - his inexperience making him not last longer than a couple of minutes. “Are you going to cum for me?” Y/N asks him, holding his jaw tightly to keep his gaze on hers, and when he shyly nods she adds, “I want you to look at me when you do it.”

Harry can’t believe what’s going on – he has the most beautiful woman in the word on top of him about to make him cum, and he’s sure he’s going to come so hard he’ll probably have to throw his briefs into the trash. Her gaze staring so intensely into his eyes is what makes his insides finally explode, his eyes seeing white for a moment – with his mouth open ajar and glossy eyes he feels the large amount of cum spurting from his cock, making a mess inside his pants. The pleasure and fullness he feels during this moment is something he has never experienced before, never thinking he would surrender this fast over someone else’s actions. Y/N slows her movements but doesn’t stop for a while, allowing him to empty his insides until he hisses at the friction. Harry hugs her lower back to pull her closer to him, and Y/N lets her head drop to his shoulder so they can both catch their breaths.

They stay like that for a while, hugging each other with Y/N running her hand softly through his chocolate curls and Harry tracing small circles on the small of her back.

“You saved me from a car accident, a year or so ago.” Harry confesses – the pure bliss he’s feeling makes him dizzy and unaware of his words.

“I know. I remember.” Y/N confesses herself, and when Harry’s soft caresses stop at her back, she removes her head from the warm spot on his neck to look at him in the eyes, finding a confused frown in his eyebrows and lips in a small pout – she kisses him soft and quickly, not being able to contain herself. “I figured you either didn’t remember or didn’t bring it up for a reason, so I chose to not mention it.” She shudders and gives him a soft smile.

“Was embarrassed, still am.” Harry whispers with red cheeks, and Y/N’s laugh resonates through his living room, and if he wasn’t already obsessed with her, her laugh completes his way there.

“So cute.” She pecks his lips. “Can’t believe it took us this long to… talk.” Another peck. A knowing look on her face knowing damn well they did more than talking.

“You are too pretty. And intimidating. Can’t even walk in front of you without tripping over my own feet.” Y/N giggles at his confession, finding him even more amusing.

“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?” Y/N asked, not being able to wait another day to ask. Harry feels his cheeks hurting from all the smiling, but he is too content in this moment.

“I’d love to.”

As always, feedback is truly appreciated,

love, Joey.

#harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #harry styles fluff #virgin!harry

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atlafan · 4 years

Note

What about a HarryxY/N fic but told entirely from best friend Niall's point of view? You have said before that you feel like sometimes you write the same fic each time (which I don't agree with, I think all your writing is very fresh) so maybe it would be fu to write from a new POV idk

I think I’ve only ever written one fic in the first person when I first jumped into this fandom, and I did it a few times when I wrote some gmw fics, and I just don’t love it? I can’t really immerse myself in those as easily. I also don’t really know how I’d write something from his POV thank you for thinking my shit isn’t stale though!

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allthelovehes · 12 days

Text

Hardware Store Hookup*

Summary: Y/N just broke up with her boyfriend and kicked him out, she is redecorating her apartment and the guy who works at the hardware store just has something special to him.

Pairing: Harry x reader

Word count: 4.7K

Warnings: Smut!! Protected sex tho, oral female receiving, p in v.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 @cherrylovers-world @harrys-littlefreak Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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A/N: Ugh, these two are so cute and loving. Makes me wanna paint my house and find Harry at my hardware store.

Setting down the last box of his belongings in the entryway of her apartment building. Y/N feels bittersweet. This building has been their home for the last two years, but the second she found out he cheated on her she was packing up all his shit and moving him out.

“I don't understand why you won't just listen to me! We can work this out!”

“I'm done talking to you, Michael.” She responds, her voice void of emotion. “The apartment is in my name, and I'm paying the bills, you're out.”

Michael huffs and walks around her as if he's going to leave, but turns around and comes right back. She can feel his eyes boring into her and her skin crawls. He's trying to play the victim and she can't stand it.

“Fine, you know what? Just... just fuck it, Y/N. I don't even want to live with you, you're an ugly bitch anyways. I can find someone prettier and younger to take care of me than some fat cow.”

“You're an asshole, Michael. I never want to see your face again.” She replies, opening the door and pointing outside.

“Fuck you!” He spits, picks up his boxes and leaves.

She watches as he gets into his truck and pulls out of the parking spot before she goes inside and closes the door. As soon as she locks it she collapses on the floor and bursts into tears. A year ago Michael was her knight in shining armour, her soulmate, the love of her life. Now she wants to erase his entire existence from her memory.

***

A couple of months pass and Y/N feels like it's finally time to transform their home into her own. The couch was a gift from her parents when they moved in together and it's not even comfortable. It's also stained and ratty and she's ready to get rid of it. She's browsing Pinterest when a couch catches her eye, it's white and has a tufted back. It looks beautiful, so she clicks on the website and begins filling her cart with things for her new interior.

Shipping the pieces takes quite some time as they get delivered by truck and they schedule an appointment with you to make sure you're home. Still, three more weeks until her furniture is supposed to be delivered, so she decides to make most of the time in between and visits the hardware store for some paint.

The hardware store is surprisingly quiet and she has the aisle to herself. There are dozens of different brands of paint and it's overwhelming, let's not even get started about all the different colour options. She has an idea in mind, something warm, inviting and calming. Something that feels like home.

“Can I help you?” A voice says behind her and she startles, almost dropping the cans of paint she picked out.

“Ah, yes! Please!” She chuckles, turning around and looking at the man behind her.

He's tall, very tall, and wearing a navy blue polo. He has a nametag, 'Harry' written across it. He's got curly, dark brown hair, and his face is handsome and symmetrical. The thing that stands out to her the most are his eyes, they're a soft green, almost grey and they remind her of the sea. His lips look soft and pouty and she can't stop staring.

“You seem lost.” Harry smirks.

“Yeah, a bit, actually.” She chuckles. “I need paint for my apartment and I don't really know how much I'm gonna need or where to start. I just wanna do my bedroom and the living room.”

“Well, first, let's start by picking out a colour. Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“Oh, um, yeah!” She smiles, grabbing her phone and showing him her Pinterest board. “Something like this.”

“Ah, I see. A warm colour, that's good. And what are you painting over?”

“Well, right now it's a cream colour.” She explains, following him through the aisles as he looks at paint cards.

“Okay, so we'll probably want to stick with a neutral colour for the living room, because the natural light changes a lot. Here.” He hands her a warm yellow coloured paint card, “This one would look great, it's warm and it will compliment the furniture.”

“I love it.”

“And your bedroom, we'll do something more daring, because that's more of a personal space.” Harry smirks at her. “I think something darker to add some mystery, but with a pop of colour would look great, like maybe a navy wall with a bright coloured accent piece.”

“I have a yellow throw I'm planning on using. That's good contrasting colour, right?”

“Yes! Exactly! You can use the yellow throw to really add some warmth, especially during winter, and the blue to contrast that and create some depth.”

“That sounds great.” She smiles, her excitement growing. Harry is charming and his excitement for her project is contagious. “I can't wait.”

“Let's head over to the paint mixer, yeah?”

They walk towards the back of the store, where the mixing area is located. During their walk Harry asks her what her more about the wall sizes so he knows how much she'll need. She tells him everything he needs to know and Harry gets to work. The heavy paint buckets cause his muscles to flex and his biceps bulge. He's definitely a looker and she can't help but blush and tries to turn her attention elsewhere.

“There we go.” He smiles. “Let's go get some painting supplies and we'll ring you up, yeah?”

“Perfect.”

“How are you planning on doing this?”

“Hm?”

“The painting.” He chuckles. “Are you planning on doing it yourself or are you hiring a painter?”

“Oh, I'll do it myself, it's only the two rooms, right? I can handle that.”

“You can, absolutely.” Harry grins. “You're brave. Most women hire painters to do that sort of thing, or their boyfriends.”

“Oh, well, I don't have a boyfriend. I guess I'm just doing this all myself.”

“That's admirable. I wish more women were like you, not afraid of getting their hands dirty. You're going to be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Trust me, you'll do great. And if you need any advice you know where to find me. I'll be glad to help.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She says. Harry loves that she calls him by his name that she clearly read off his name tag. “I appreciate it.”

“It's my pleasure, darling. Let's get you checked out.” Harry gives her a small wink and they head to the counter. He helps her lift all the heavy items onto the conveyor belt so his colleague can scan them. He normally wouldn't give this much attention to a customer, but he's drawn to her, she's different.

Y/N notices him staring as they load her purchases onto the conveyor belt and it makes her blush. She can't help but look at him and the way his lips move as he talks. They look soft and she can't help but imagine what kissing him would be like.

“Will that be all, miss?” His colleague asks, snapping her out of her daydream.

“Um, yes. Yes, thank you.” She smiles, handing her her debit card.

“I'll bring these to your car.” Harry says, lifting two buckets of paint and carrying them outside.

“Oh, thank you!” She smiles, grabbing the other bucket and following him. She knows he's giving her some kind of special treatment as he shouldn't be doing this, but she isn't complaining. She's not complaining at all.

He sets down the buckets next to her car, and she unlocks the trunk so he can place them inside. He turns around and looks at her. He wants to say something, anything, to her, but he doesn't know what.

“Do you have a card or something? So I can contact you if I have any questions?” She speaks up, feeling brave.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Harry grins, reaching behind him and pulling out a small note block. He scribbles down his name, phone number and writes hardware store employee underneath as if it's an official business card. He rips off the piece of paper and hands it over with a goofy grin on his face. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She chuckles. “I'm Y/N, by the way.”

“It's lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise.” She grins. “Well, I have to get going. I still have to buy a few more things.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, getting into her car and driving off.

As soon as she's out of sight, Harry lets out a sigh and heads back into the hardware store.

“Hey, mate.” His colleague says. “What was that all about?”

“What was what about?”

“Don't act stupid. I've never seen you give special attention to a customer.”

“Shut up.” Harry chuckles, walking towards the back room. “It was nothing, I was just being nice.”

“Uhuh.”

Harry sighs, rolling his eyes as he starts to put away some equipment. He has no idea why he's so intrigued by her, she was just a normal customer, right? He thinks back to the way she blushed when he spoke, and the way she fiddled with her hands. Maybe he's just imagining things, but he's definitely got a soft spot for her. ***

She's spent the last few days painting the walls of her bedroom, as a darker colour needs multiple layers and drying times. It's finally time to paint the living room and she's excited. She's picked out the perfect colour and the weather is cooperating so she can leave the windows open.

She's put on her favourite music and has a cup of tea next to her as she paints. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she's wearing sweatpants and a sports bra. She's enjoying herself, and the room looks great so far. The colour is a bit darker than what she expected but she doesn't hate it. It's warm, and inviting and she's happy.

After a few hours her back and arms start hurting, so she decides to take a break. She grabs her phone and takes a picture of the wall and posts it in the family group chat.

She scrolls through her Instagram feed when she suddenly remembers the card that Harry gave her. She pulls it out of her pocket and enters his number in her contacts. She debates on whether or not she should send him a message, but decides to do it anyway.

Y/N Hey Harry, it's Y/N, the girl from the hardware store. I've finished my bedroom and I'm doing the living room now. The colour looks amazing, thanks again for helping me pick it out.

She sends the text and immediately puts her phone down. She can't believe she just did that. Did she sound desperate? Did she sound too eager? Is he going to reply? She's got no clue, and it's killing her.

“Get a grip, Y/N.” She whispers to herself. She shakes her head and grabs her cup of tea, taking a sip. She looks back at her wall and sighs, she's got a long day ahead of her.

The sun is slowly starting to set, and Y/N has just finished the wall. Her hair is still up in a bun and she's sweaty, but she's happy with the result. The walls look amazing, the colour is beautiful and she can't wait to show her parents tomorrow.

Her phone vibrates, and she grabs it to check the notification. It's a text from Harry.

Harry I'm so glad to hear that, love! I bet the colour looks lovely with the sun setting right now.

She can't believe he called her 'love' in a text, it's insane. He barely even knows her. But his message is sweet and cute and she's smiling like an idiot.

Y/N You'll have to come and check it out for yourself.

She stares at her phone screen for what feels like an eternity. She can't believe she just flirted with him. She's not even sure if he's single, and if he is, does he like her? He could be interested in someone else, or he could even be straight for all she knows.

Harry Are you inviting me over?

Y/N I'm not stopping you.

Her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking. She's definitely overstepping, but she's hoping it won't scare him off.

Harry I leave work in about 10 minutes. What's your address?

“Shit.”

Y/N Oh, it's 27B, Parkview Apartments.

Harry Be there in 20.

“Fuck!”

She can't believe he's actually coming over. She runs over to her bathroom and quickly brushes her hair and her teeth. Her apartment is a mess, and she's not wearing any makeup. She looks terrible and he's going to be here any second.

“Calm down.” She whispers to herself.

She walks out of the bathroom and starts cleaning up the living room. There are paint supplies everywhere, and she wants the place to look at least a little presentable.

A few minutes later she hears the doorbell and her heart almost leaps out of her chest.

“Coming!” She yells, rushing over to the front door and opening it.

“Hey.” Harry grins.

“Hi.” She smiles. “Please, come in.”

Harry steps inside and closes the door behind him. She looks stunning, despite the fact that she's wearing sweatpants and a messy bun, which makes him feel a little overdressed.

“Your apartment looks nice.”

“Thank you.” She replies, closing the window. “It's a bit of a mess right now, but I'm working on it.”

“Don't worry about it, I understand.”

“Um, would you like something to drink? Some water or beer or something?”

“A beer would be great, thanks.”

“Alright.” She nods, walking over to the fridge and pulling out two cold beers.

Harry sits down on the couch and watches her. She's got a few paint stains on her pants and her sports bra and he finds it endearing. He can tell that she's trying hard, and he's definitely charmed by her.

“Here you go.” She smiles, handing him a beer.

“Cheers.” He says, clinking his bottle against hers.

“To your apartment looking better than ever.”

“Cheers.” She smiles. “And to the man who helped make that possible.”

They both take a sip and stare at each other for a few seconds. Y/N has a feeling that something might happen, but she's not sure if it's the right thing.

“So.” Harry starts, clearing his throat. “What are you going to do now that the painting is done?”

“Oh, well, I'm still planning on doing a few other things.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I've ordered a new couch, and I'm thinking of getting a new rug.” She answers before Harry moves closer to her.

“So, you don't mind getting this couch a little dirty?” He asks her. Harry is blunt, but he feels the way she's looking at her. It's almost as if she's undressing him with her eyes, he can see the desire sparkling in them.

“Dirty how?”

“You know what I mean, love.” Harry smirks, taking another swig from his beer. Y/N doesn't know what has gotten into her. Normally she's not like this, not at all, but she wants him, badly. She's been craving him since the moment she saw him, and she's tired of denying herself.

“Yes.” She whispers. Harry doesn't reply, instead, he leans in and captures her lips with his own. The kiss is intense, full of lust and hunger. Y/N has been waiting for this and she's not going to waste the opportunity. The last couple of months with Michael have been stale, she's been missing this exciting feeling deep within her.

Harry pulls her closer and kisses her harder, his hands wandering over her body. Y/N moans into the kiss and straddles him. He grabs her hips and pushes her down on him, creating delicious friction between them. Y/N can feel him growing harder and his bulge pressing against her core. She wants him, and she wants him now. Harry breaks the kiss, and Y/N whimpers at the loss.

“You're a very good kisser.” He murmurs. “Are you always this good, or am I just lucky?”

“I don't know, maybe you're just lucky.” She teases, grinding down on his cock.

“Mmm.” Harry hums, leaning forward and kissing her again. This time, the kiss is even more passionate. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss, running her fingers through his hair. She pulls on it and Harry groans, his hands moving to her ass and squeezing it.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He mutters against her lips, squeezing her ass again.

“You too.” She mumbles, leaning down and kissing his neck. Harry groans as she starts sucking on his skin, leaving a trail of love bites. He knows that they'll be visible tomorrow and that his colleagues will have a field day. But he doesn't care, he loves it. He loves the fact that he's been claimed by her.

He spins her full body around in his lap, so her back is flush against his chest and his face is buried in the crook of her neck. His hands move up her stomach and under her sports bra. He cups her breasts and pinches her nipples between his fingers, making her whimper.

“You're so beautiful.” He mumbles, his lips pressed against her neck. She places her hands on his knees and grinds down on his cock, loving the feeling of him underneath her.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, thrusting his hips up, meeting her movements. “You're so fucking hot, you know that?”

“I'm aware of the effect I have on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, pulling her hair and forcing her to expose her neck.

“Yeah.” She reaches behind her to unclasp her sports bra and lets it fall to the floor.

“Fuck, look at you.” Harry grunts, grabbing her breast and squeezing it. Y/N throws her head back and moans. “Look at these perfect tits.”

He continues to massage her breast, teasing her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Y/N arches her back, pushing her breast further into his hand.

“That feels so good.” She whines.

“Mhm.” He hums, licking a stripe up her neck. He loves the way her skin tastes, sweet and salty. He can't get enough. He sucks on her earlobe, one of his hands sliding down her body and slipping into her pants. He finds her clit, and two of his fingers circle it, making her gasp.

“Oh god.”

“Do you like that?” He asks her, continuing his movements because he already knows the answer.

“Yes.”

“You're so wet, baby.” Harry smirks

“Mmm.” She whimpers, grinding her hips into his fingers.

“I can't wait to be inside you.” He growls, his fingers dipping lower and sliding into her.

“Fuck.” She hisses, her nails digging into his legs.

“That's it, baby, let me hear you.” Harry grunts, pumping his fingers in and out of her. He curls them and hits the perfect spot, making her cry out in pleasure. Her walls are spongey and tight around him, making him impatient. But the thought of feeling her come all over his hand is more than enough for him to keep focussed. He wants her to leak all over his hand, to make a mess for him and only him.

“Oh fuck, please, more.” She whines, her thighs trembling. She's never felt this way before, the way he touches her, the way he makes her feel is intoxicating. She loves how she's still half-clothed, and yet, he's managed to make her feel exposed. She's not ashamed of the noises she's making, but she's definitely enjoying the way he's making her feel.

“More what, baby?” Harry asks, his lips grazing her ear moaning softly to send shivers running down her spine.

“More of you.”

“Oh, I'll give you more, baby. Just be patient.”

“Yes.” She cries out, feeling her orgasm approaching. She knows it's close, and she wants it, badly. Her hips start grinding down on his hand, her movements becoming faster and less controlled. Harry continues to pump his fingers into her, his thumb rubbing her clit, making her body shake.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasps, her walls tightening around him. She comes, squirting all over his hand. Harry moans, his dick twitching as he feels her squirt.

“Holy fuck.” Harry moans, watching the mess she's made. “That's so fucking hot.”

“Harry...”

“Mmm.” He hums, as he picks her up and roughly lies her down on her back. He grabs the waistband of her now completely soaked sweatpants and pull them down her legs, throwing them to the side. He does the same with her panties. He gets rid of his own shirt, revealing his toned body. Y/N is taken aback, he's got some tattoos, which is not something she expected. But it suits him, and it's hot.

“Look at you, such a pretty pussy.” He hums, admiring her dripping wet cunt. She's glistening and his mouth waters at the sight.

“Stop staring.” She chuckles.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He laughs. “Would you prefer if I did this?”

“Do what- fuck!” Y/N exclaims, as Harry suddenly leans down and sucks her clit between his lips. He places his big hands on the inside of her thighs to keep her legs nice and open for him. He is relentless, his tongue licking a strip up her cunt, making her squirm and cry out. He laps up her juices, enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck, Harry!”

“That's it, baby.” Harry groans, sending vibrations through her body. She's gripping the couch, her knuckles turning white. It's an overwhelming feeling to have him eat her out so eagerly right after she came all over his hand. She doesn't know how much more she can take.

When she first met him, she never would have guessed Harry would have been this skilled. The way his tongue moves along her pussy, his lips sucking and licking her clit and the way his fingers dig into her thighs is making her dizzy. She knows she's going to come soon, and she's not sure if she's ready for that.

“Mmhmm, yes.” She moans, her back arching. She grabs a fistful of his hair and holds on to it, pushing his head further down. He takes it as a sign and doubles his efforts, his tongue moving even faster and deeper.

“Oh fuck, yes, right there!” She cries out, her toes curling as her orgasm hits her. It's intense and makes her see stars. Her whole body trembles as her muscles contract, and her mind goes blank.

“Jesus, you taste so good.” Harry groans, as he carefully licks her clean. He gets up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry catches his breath and he looks down at the sweet girl in front of him. She is completely wrecked, and he's not even done with her yet.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He smiles, standing up and removing his pants and boxers. His cock is hard and leaking precum. He's long and thick, and Y/N can't wait to have it inside of her.

“Fuck.” She mumbles at the sight, a bit too loud. She's certain Harry heard her even though she didn't intend for him to hear it.

“What's that, love?” Harry grins, his cock throbbing.

“Nothing.”

“No, I want to hear you say it.” He insists, his eyes locked on hers.

“You're big.”

“Yeah?”

“And hard.”

“For you.”

“Fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, love.” Harry laughs. He grabs his wallet from his pants and pulls out a condom, ripping the package open and sliding the condom down his shaft.

“Come here.” She tells him. He obeys and walks towards her, getting down on his knees in front of the couch. He leans forward and kisses her passionately, his hands cupping her face. He slowly pulls away, his eyes locking with hers.

“You're beautiful.” He murmurs.

“I bet you say that to all the girls who need help at the hardware store.” She teases.

“Oh, shut up.” He laughs, kissing her again. He positions himself, his tip pressing against her entrance. He can't wait to feel her, to be inside of her. Y/N's breathing heavily, her heart racing. He teases her by slowly pushing his tip up and down her folds before slowly pushing it into her. Just the tiniest bit to make her all needy and whiney.

“Please.”

“Patience, baby.” He whispers, his lips inches from hers. He keeps teasing her, his tip rubbing her clit. Y/N moans and her hips buck, trying to get him to push his dick inside of her. But he makes sure to not give in to her desires just yet. He pushes back into her, a little bit further this time, his tip disappearing inside her. But he doesn't go any further, and Y/N lets out a frustrated grunt.

“What's the matter, love?” He smirks, his hand slowly trailing up her stomach and resting on her breast. As he rubs his cock on her clit, his hand squeezes her breast and he starts sucking on her neck.

“You know exactly what's wrong, you fucking tease.”

“Oh, do I?” He chuckles, his hand squeezing her breast again, this time a little bit rougher.

“Yes.” She moans, arching her back. “Please, Harry, stop teasing me.”

“Alright.” He whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. He slowly thrusts into her, filling her up completely. He stills his hips, letting her adjust to his size. She moans, her hands resting on his hips, urging him to move. He complies and begins to rock his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, his pace increasing. Y/N's walls tighten around him and her nails dig into his hips, as she tries to pull him even deeper.

“That's it, baby.” He growls, his cock sliding in and out of her easily. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

“You're so big.” She gasps, her eyes closed and her mouth agape. He groans, his hips slamming into her. His fingers find her clit, and he starts rubbing her. Y/N whimpers, her toes curling as his fingers and his cock bring her closer to the edge.

“Yes, baby.” Harry grunts, his free hand cupping her breast, his fingers tweaking her nipple. It's sending sparks of pleasure throughout her body.

“Oh god, fuck!” Y/N moans, her hips bucking, and her walls tightening around him. “Fuck, I'm gonna come.”

“Oh, baby.” He whispers, his voice dripping with lust.

“Shit.” Y/N gasps, her eyes flying open as her third orgasm washes over her. Her whole body is trembling, her muscles contracting. Harry feels her clench around his cock, and he knows that it won't be long before he comes too.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier. He curses under his breath as he pulls his cock out of her. He quickly rips the condom off and strokes his cock, coming all over her stomach.

“Fuck.”

They're both catching their breaths, both still riding their high. They look at each other and share a laugh.

“I've made a mess.”

“It's okay, my couch was a mess to begin with. We just made it messier.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles, leaning in and kissing her. “This was...fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” She says, her fingers running through his curls.

“How about we go and get cleaned up in the shower and then we can have a proper drink?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Y/N's never had a one-night stand like this. Normally they are rushed and messy. This was different. It was sensual, erotic, and passionate. And she didn't feel bad about it. It felt natural like she was meant to do this. Like she was supposed to have a fling with the hot guy at the hardware store. She's never believed in fate, but maybe this is what it feels like.

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unabashegirl · 4 months

Text

Meeting her || H.S

Author's note: The following piece is based on The Golden Boy one short from earlier in the year. This story will be how Harry and Y/N met. This took place before the World Cup . This is going to be a three-part story! This is part one. I hope you enjoy! The next part will have smut. Let me know what you think

PS: these IA pictures are getting out of hand.

masterlist

word count: 5.1K

As the autumn leaves danced in the crisp Manchester breeze, Y/N found herself lost in the beauty of this new city. Having recently moved here, her life felt like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with new experiences and adventures. One such adventure awaited her on a chilly evening, as her friend Emma invited her to dinner with her new boyfriend, Harry.

They first met in college during their second year. Y/N got invited to her first party but didn't know anyone. Everything turned around when Emma bumped into her in the kitchen. As the years went by, their friendship got stronger. But when Y/N switched her major to art, things took a turn. Emma didn't like the decision and started keeping her distance.

Y/N came back to Manchester after spending nearly a year in Italy. During her time there, she learned a new way to paint and work with ceramics. Even though her family was closer, she felt a bit out of place, like a foreigner, in her own native country.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N's phone buzzed with a message notification and a follow request on Instagram from Emma. Curiosity piqued; Y/N opened the app to find a warm greeting from her old friend. Emma had just learned that Y/N was back in town and was eager to reconnect and catch up on all the happenings since their last meeting. Ever since, they've been regularly meeting up for lunch dates, dinners, and various events.

Emma had been excitedly telling Y/N about Harry for weeks, and tonight was the night she was going to meet him. She kept going on about how he was a professional football player, having just joined Manchester United, and how his salary was sky-high, potentially making him extremely wealthy. Emma was evidently proud of this and made sure to let Y/N know, almost bragging about it.

They met at a cozy, dimly lit restaurant, where the aroma of delicious food filled the air. Emma was beaming with excitement, introducing Y/N to Harry as he greeted them with a warm smile. He was handsome, with kind eyes that seemed to reflect his genuine personality.

"Y/N, this is Harry," Emma said enthusiastically.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Y/N replied with a friendly smile, extending her hand for a handshake.

"The pleasure's mine," he responded politely. "I've heard that you're an artist."

Y/N nodded shyly, "Yeah, mostly into paintings and ceramics."

“Anything that we might have seen?”

"Nothing. She's just a beginner, honey," Emma interrupted before Y/N could respond. "She just returned from Italy from picking up a new skill, hoping it might help her sell and turn a profit. You know how it is in the art world – always searching for that breakthrough.”

Y/N felt a momentary offense, a twinge of embarrassment sweeping over her. Not everything Emma had said was entirely accurate. While it was true that everyone aspired to a breakthrough, Y/N had already experienced one, prompting her journey to Italy. Having been invited there, she returned to Manchester with a renewed focus on opening her first gallery. Whispers of her name began circulating in the corners of the art world.

"Fortunately, Harry has already had his breakthrough," Emma added before taking a sip of her martini.

Emma's chatter mostly revolved around Harry's career, the glamorous lifestyle associated with professional football, and the immense potential for wealth. While Harry remained modest and humble about his achievements, Y/N could sense a hint of discomfort in his eyes.

Y/N was someone who valued depth in conversation, she yearned for more than just the superficial. Emma's constant emphasis on Harry's financial prospects was getting on her nerves, but she held her tongue, not wanting to jeopardize her friendship. It was rare for her to have friends, and she didn't want to ruin this budding friendship.

Throughout the evening, she observed Harry, realizing that he was a genuinely kind and down-to-earth person. He seemed uncomfortable with the focus on his financial success, preferring to discuss other aspects of life. Their conversation flowed naturally when they discussed their interests, hobbies, and favorite books.

As the night progressed, Y/N found herself connecting with Harry on a deeper level, appreciating his humility and kindness. Despite the initial annoyance caused by Emma's bragging, she discovered a potential friend in Harry—one who valued genuine connections over monetary gains.

"So, how was Italy? Is it everything that people say?" Harry inquired, his curiosity evident. Having not yet ventured outside the country, most of his experiences were rooted in local settings, particularly in the realm of his games. Eager to hear about Y/N's international adventure, he leaned in, genuinely interested in the tales she might share about the enchanting country he had yet to explore himself.

Y/N smiled, taking a sip of her drink before launching into her narrative. “It is everything and more. The art, the history, the landscapes – it's like a dream. I ended up indulging in the most amazing pasta dishes. And the art is in every corner.”

Harry's eyes widened with interest, "Really? What kind of art did you see?"

Y/N's enthusiasm bubbled as she shared, "Everything from Renaissance masterpieces to contemporary street art”.

As the evening came to a close, she felt a sense of contentment. She had made a new friend in Harry, someone who shared her appreciation for genuine conversations and meaningful connections. Little did she know, this chance encounter would mark the beginning of a beautiful friendship that would enrich her life in more ways than she could have imagined.

Throughout the week, Emma continued to invite her to various events, eager to integrate her into her social circle. One evening, she invited Y/N to attend a football game where Harry would be playing. Y/N was genuinely excited about the prospect of watching a live game and supporting Harry, but Emma's comment about dressing up and putting on makeup stung.

"You should definitely come to the game! It's going to be so much fun. Dress up a bit and maybe put on some makeup—you never know, you might catch someone of Harry's caliber," she said with a wink, attempting to make it sound like a lighthearted joke.

Y/N forced a smile, masking the hurt she felt. It was clear Emma was implying that Harry was out of her league or that she needed to "improve" her appearance to even be in the same league as her or him. She wasn't confrontational by nature, so she simply replied, "Thanks for the invite, Emma. I'll see if I can make it."

As the day of the game approached, Y/N debated whether to attend. The comment had left a lingering discomfort, making her question if she should subject herself to such superficial judgments. But her curiosity to watch the game and support Harry won in the end.

On the day of the game, she wore a casual yet presentable outfit, wanting to feel comfortable and confident in her own skin. She met Emma at the stadium, where she greeted her with excitement.

“I'm so glad you made it! This is going to be amazing," she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I'm looking forward to it," Y/N replied, attempting to infuse her response with enthusiasm, though beneath the surface, nerves churned. Anticipation mingled with apprehension as she contemplated the upcoming interaction. Y/N couldn't shake the memory of previous encounters, where backhanded comments and thinly veiled compliments had become a common thread.

As they took their seats, the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The crowd's energy was infectious, and she found herself caught up in the excitement of the game. Watching Harry play was impressive—his skill and passion for the sport were evident.

Amidst the cheers and celebrations, Emma leaned over and said, "Isn't he amazing on the field? Imagine being with someone like him."

Her words struck a chord, reminding Y/N of the shallow perspective she seemed to have about relationships. She chose to focus on the game and cheer for Harry, pushing aside the hurt she felt. Deep down, she knew she deserved genuine connections and friendships that weren't based on appearance or someone's profession.

As the game ended and they made their way out of the stadium, she appreciated the experience and the opportunity to support Harry. However, she also realized the importance of surrounding herself with people who valued her for who she was, rather than making her feel inadequate or lesser than because of societal standards or external perceptions.

She continued to focus on her art, pouring her heart and soul into the canvas as she prepared for her upcoming art show. Emma's persistent invitations and comments had left a mark, and she found solace in the therapeutic strokes of her paintbrush. To protect her mental health and maintain her sense of self-worth, she began gently declining Emma's invitations and started distancing herself from her.

One afternoon, while heading to the art supply store, she unexpectedly crossed paths with none other than Harry. Her hair was up in a messy bun, glasses perched on her nose, and she was wearing baggy clothes slightly adorned with paint stains. She greeted him with a warm smile, surprised yet pleased to see him.

"Harry! Fancy running into you here," she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Hey! How have you been?" he responded, his friendly demeanor putting her at ease. Sporting athletic attire, he appeared in the midst of post-run casualness, on his way back to his apartment.

"I've been busy with work, preparing for an art show. It's been quite hectic," she explained.

"That sounds amazing! An art show? I'd love to see your work," Harry exclaimed, genuinely interested.

"Sure! You and Emma are more than welcome to come. It's on Saturday evening," she extended the invitation, acknowledging his enthusiasm. Including Emma felt like the courteous thing to do, although she harbored no intention of having her presence at the event.

"Where are you off to?" Harry inquired, his eyes drawn to her appearance and the sizable tote bag slung over her shoulder. He found the sight rather adorable. Harry admired her confidence and the unique way she expressed herself. While he hadn't seen her art yet, he was convinced that if it reflected even a fraction of her personality, it would undoubtedly be incredible.

Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he awaited her response, eager to understand the purpose behind the tote bag and the destination that had captured her attention on this particular day. The genuine interest he took in her pursuits was evident, a testament to the budding connection between them.

"I'm headed to the supply store. Ran out of a few things in the middle of a painting session," she explained, a hint of frustration in her voice. Having to cut her creative session short was always a predicament, leaving her feeling somewhat scattered. "That's why I look like such a mess," Y/N felt compelled to clarify, a touch of self-consciousness in her admission.

"Mind if I tag along?" Harry inquired, his reluctance to head to his apartment evident. The idea of being alone didn't appeal to him, and his living space still carried the lingering feeling of belonging to someone else.

"No problem. I just hope it won't be too boring for you," she said, a sudden nervousness creeping in. It felt akin to introducing a boyfriend to her parents, as he was about to witness a small yet intimate aspect of her life—her painting ritual. Despite the nerves, a giddy excitement bubbled within her. Rarely had someone shown enough interest in her work to accompany her in such moments.

As they strolled, they exchanged stories about their lives—his experiences with football, her passion for art, and the challenges and joys they both faced. Harry shared the excitement and pressure of being a professional athlete, and she talked about the joys and struggles of being an artist.

And Harry asked with genuine concern, "I noticed you've been a bit distant lately. Is everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share her feelings. But seeing his kind and understanding demeanor, she decided to be honest. "To be honest, Emma's comments have been bothering me. It felt like she was implying that I'm not good enough” Y/N shook her head, attempting to banish the same thoughts that had haunted her for years. "Or maybe I just misinterpreted her words," she mused, a flicker of uncertainty lingering in her mind.

Harry's eyes softened, understanding the weight of her words. "I'm so sorry you felt that way. Emma can be a bit... oblivious at times.”

His words warmed her heart, reassuring her that true friendships were built on understanding and mutual respect.

"We're here," Y/N announced, swinging open the door of a small but charming store. "Hi, George!" she greeted, waving enthusiastically to the elderly man stationed behind the counter at the back.

"Ms. Y/L/N! Good to see you! How's that collection coming along?" George, a familiar face and one of her most significant suppliers, recognized her immediately. He had even gone the extra mile to order specific brushes and paints for her, a testament to his belief in her talent.

"Oh, it's going!" Y/N chuckled, making her way to the paint aisle. "This is my friend Harry, George." Harry beamed, waving like an excited child being introduced to a stranger.

"Mr. Styles! Number nine in Manchester, right?" George exclaimed, recognizing him. "Great season you're having! It's good to have you."

"Thank you," Harry responded shyly, still adjusting to being recognized and receiving compliments from strangers.

"You're not going to swap me for Harry, are you, George?" Y/N teased as she bent down to reach for spatulas and sponges on the bottom shelf.

"Never. Still my favorite," George assured, prompting chuckles from both Harry and Y/N as they continued their joint venture, collecting items from Y/N's list and heading towards the checkout.

As Y/N gathered her art supplies, Harry couldn't help but admire the quaint charm of the store. It was filled with the rich scent of pigments and the subtle aroma of wooden easels. The artistic ambiance enveloped them as George continued to chat with Harry, discussing his recent successes in Manchester.

As they bid farewell to George, the doorbell chimed, marking the end of their visit. Stepping back into the bustling street, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the support she received, not only from her favorite art supplier but also from Harry, who had ventured into her world with genuine interest and a bright smile.

"That was wonderful. Thank you for taking me," Harry commented warmly, carrying Y/N's tote bag through the lively streets. The cityscape buzzed around them, a backdrop to the shared experience they had just enjoyed.

Y/N smiled in response, her eyes reflecting gratitude. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot," she admitted, a subtle vulnerability in her tone. "No one has ever accompanied me to these sorts of things."

Harry's smile broadened, understanding the significance of those words. The weight of being the first to share in a part of Y/N's world tugged at his heartstrings. As they walked side by side, the city lights flickering overhead, an unspoken connection blossomed between them.

They found themselves enveloped in a comfortable silence, the echoes of their shared laughter still resonating in the air. The streets, alive with the rhythm of urban life, seemed to dance to an unspoken melody that mirrored the newfound understanding between Harry and Y/N.

Harry accompanied her all the way to her apartment, insisting on ensuring her safe arrival.

"I'll see you at the art show," Y/N said, her voice carrying a mixture of anticipation and gratitude. She gave him a quick but warm hug before disappearing into the foyer of the building. The promise of their reunion at the upcoming art show lingered in the air, a shared moment they both looked forward to. As Y/N disappeared from view, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of contentment. The day had been filled with meaningful conversations, different from his usual exchanges with his girlfriend.

On the night of the art show, the venue was buzzing with people who had gathered to appreciate and celebrate art. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with an array of colors, emotions, and creativity. She was both excited and nervous, eager to share her work with others.

Not only were her paintings displayed on the wall, but her ceramics pieces adorned the space as well.

As the evening progressed, Y/N noticed Harry and Emma arriving, accompanied by a couple of Harry's friends. She greeted them warmly, hoping for a pleasant evening. However, it didn't take long for the mood to sour.

Emma's disapproving looks and hostile demeanor became evident as she roamed around the exhibition. Her discomfort seemed to intensify with each piece she viewed, as if she couldn't bear to see Y/N in the spotlight.

"What am I even looking at?" Emma whispered to Harry as they stood amidst a sizable crowd gathered around one of Y/N's largest paintings. "And why is everyone gawking? It's not a big deal; everyone can do it." Harry stayed silent; his attention fully absorbed by the intricate details of the artwork.

"Stop it," Harry gently pulled her hand, attempting to hush her down. "You're being rude." However, he couldn't deny that Y/N's creation was something truly unique. The canvas held an amalgamation of colors and emotions that seemed to dance and intertwine, capturing the essence of her artistic vision.

As the crowd marveled at the masterpiece, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for Y/N. Her work, a reflection of her passion and creativity, had garnered the attention and admiration of those present. He admired the way she fearlessly poured herself into her art, creating something that not only spoke to him but resonated with a broader audience.

Despite Emma's dismissive comments, Harry recognized the significance of Y/N's talent. He hoped that, with time, Emma might come to appreciate the artistry that captured the attention and imagination of so many.

“Let’s go. Why are we even here?” Emma turned to Harry and his friends, “She is not even that close of a friend. She is just a struggling artist”.

Unbeknownst to Emma, Y/N stood silently behind her, absorbing every single word that had slipped from Emma's lips. The gallery buzzed with the murmur of impressed onlookers, blissfully unaware that the subject of their discussion was right there, an invisible presence in the sea of admirers.

Y/N's heart sank at Emma's dismissive comments, her vulnerability exposed to the unintended audience. The weight of those words settled on her shoulders, adding a layer of discomfort to the pride she felt for her creations. Yet, she chose to linger in the shadows, absorbing the unfiltered opinions that echoed in the gallery space.

“Emma, that’s enough” Harry interjected, his voice carrying a mix of anger and concern.

As Emma turned around, her gaze met Y/N's, and the air grew thick with an unspoken tension. Y/N, having overheard every word of Emma's critique, stood there, a silent witness to the candid commentary. The sudden realization that Y/N had been present all along cast a veil of nervousness over Emma.

Caught off guard, Emma's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. The vibrant atmosphere of the gallery seemed to dim momentarily; the weight of the words exchanged lingering in the space between them.

Ignoring him, Emma cleared her throat, her voice sharp and accusatory, "You've been avoiding me, Y/N. I don't appreciate being treated this way, especially after everything I've done for you." Caught in the discomfort of the moment, Emma felt the need to assign blame. Admitting fault was inconceivable, especially in front of Harry and his friends; maintaining a positive image was paramount. Emma couldn't afford to be perceived as a negative force, and so, the instinct to shift responsibility to another party took hold. The desire to preserve her reputation and uphold a facade of positivity outweighed the need for genuine self-reflection.

Y/N tried to maintain her composure, choosing her words carefully. "I've been busy preparing for this show and focusing on my art. I never meant to make you feel ignored."

Emma's face twisted into a bitter expression, and she snapped, "You think you're so special with your art, don't you? No one cares, Y/N. I stopped talking to you in college because of these same reasons. You need to realize that you made a mistake by changing majors. Art is not going to feed you.”

The threat stung, hitting close to home. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and collected despite the rising humiliation. "Let's discuss this later, privately."

She was relentless, determined to exert her dominance. "No, we'll discuss it now. Harry, tell her she's out of line."

Harry, torn between loyalty and what was right, looked conflicted. "Emma, maybe now's not the best time—"

Emma cut him off, her voice venomous, "Oh, so now you're siding with her? Fine, have it your way."

She stormed off, leaving Harry visibly troubled and Y/N mortified in front of his friends and other attendees. She wished the ground would swallow her whole, but she reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong.

Harry approached her, his eyes filled with apology. "I'm so sorry. She was completely out of line."

She forced a small smile, trying to brush it off. "It's alright, Harry. Let's not let this ruin the evening."

Deep down, she knew she deserved better than Emma's toxic behavior. As the night unfolded, she chose to focus on the genuine appreciation she received for her art, determined to rise above the negativity and continue pursuing her passion and genuine friendships.

After the tumultuous confrontation with Emma, the art show continued, and she tried her best to immerse herself in the joy of sharing her work with appreciative art lovers. The support and admiration she received from the attendees helped ease the sting of Emma's outburst, allowing her to refocus on the success of the evening.

As the night came to a close, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Several of her pieces had been sold, and the positive feedback had boosted her confidence as an artist. She was both proud and grateful for the experience.

As she started to wrap things up and close the gallery, she noticed Harry waiting outside. His presence was a comforting sight after the rollercoaster of emotions she had endured throughout the evening.

"Hey," she greeted, trying to offer a genuine smile despite the lingering discomfort.

"Hey, congratulations on a successful show," Harry said warmly, genuinely pleased for her.

"Thank you. It means a lot," she replied, feeling a sense of relief knowing that the worst was behind her.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry about Emma's behavior. That was completely uncalled for," Harry apologized again, sincerity in his eyes.

She appreciated his concern and understanding. "Thank you, Harry. I know you tried to intervene, and I appreciate that."

Harry nodded, and then a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How about we grab a bite to eat?"

A pang of hunger reminded her that she had skipped dinner in the whirlwind of the art show. "That sounds perfect. Let's go."

They found a nearby café and sat down, the atmosphere much more relaxed and pleasant than earlier in the evening.

Harry's presence was a balm to her earlier distress, and she was grateful for his kindness and understanding. Despite the events of the night, she felt a genuine connection with him, appreciating the way he had handled the situation and his willingness to stand by her.

As the night came to a close, and she bid Harry farewell, a mix of emotions swirled within her. There was a flutter in her heart, an undeniable attraction that had grown stronger throughout the evening. She had started to like Harry more than just a friend, and it made her nervous.

Y/N knew the reality of the situation. Harry was Emma's boyfriend, and pursuing anything beyond friendship with him would be a betrayal of their relationship. Loyalty and respect were paramount, and she wouldn't compromise those values for her own desires. She couldn't deny the chemistry and connection she felt, but she also understood the importance of boundaries and staying true to her principles. It was a delicate balance between her burgeoning feelings and her commitment to doing what was right.

In the following days, she wrestled with her emotions, trying to put distance between her heart and the potential complications that could arise. She focused on her art, pouring her feelings into her creations, finding solace in the brushstrokes that paint her emotions on the canvas.

That was until one day when she found herself at home, and the intercom unexpectedly rang.

"Ms. Y/L/N, there's a Harry Styles wanting to see you," the voice on the other end announced. Shock rippled through her; it had been a few weeks since she had last seen him. Y/N had purposely kept her distance, fully aware of the feelings that had developed within her.

"Yeah, let him in," she replied, a mix of anticipation and nervousness lingering in her voice. As she unlocked the door, she settled back into her painting, attempting to distract herself from the whirlwind of emotions.

The front door creaked open, and soon, a soft knock echoed through the space. "Y/N?" Harry's rough voice called out, filling the room with a mixture of familiarity and uncertainty.

"In here," Harry heard from the foyer, prompting him to close the front door behind him. He followed the sound of her voice, traversing through the space until he finally located her. There she was, sitting on the wooden floor with legs crossed, her hair fashioned into a bun, and wearing glasses that complemented. her.

Harry cradled a warm brown paper bag, emanating the aromatic allure of Chinese cuisine. He knew of this particular restaurant that served delectable dishes, a tantalizing choice for his unhealthy food cravings. Eager to share this delightful find with Y/N, he approached her with a welcoming smile, lifting the bag in presentation.

"I brought some food," he announced, the tantalizing aroma wafting from the bag.

Curiosity sparked in Y/N's eyes as she inquired, "What is it?"

"Chinese," Harry nervously replied, hoping that his culinary choice would meet her approval.

"Good choice," Y/N commended, setting aside her brush and rising from the floor. It was at that moment that Harry couldn't help but notice her attire – a pair of overalls, worn with an easy casualness. However, the revelation didn't stop there; the absence of anything beneath the overalls exposed the side of her breast, a subtle detail that heightened the air of intimacy in the room. The vulnerability of the moment lingered, as did the tempting aroma of the Chinese delicacies. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah” he cleared his voice, “just hungry” Harry didn’t know if he meant for the meal or fo the sudden urge that he had to feel her breast. He recognized that Y/N had distanced herself, a mirror to the sentiments he harbored toward her. The desire to be close to her lingered within Harry, fueled by a genuine fondness. He admired her, not just for her presence but for the profound connection that blossomed in their conversations.

Harry appreciated the way she listened, her attention genuine and unwavering. In those moments, he felt more than heard; he felt understood on a level that transcended the superficial. Y/N held the key to unraveling his thoughts and emotions, creating a unique bond built on mutual understanding and genuine connection.

"How have you been?" Y/N inquired, taking the lead as she guided Harry towards the living room. The air was charged with a mix of anticipation and a hint of vulnerability. "I saw your match last week. You played really well."

Harry's response held a touch of concern, reflecting the echoes of unanswered messages that lingered between them. "I haven't heard from you since your art show. I thought you were mad at me," he confessed, revealing the worry that had gnawed at him.

"I just thought it would be best to gain some distance between us," Y/N explained, her movements deliberate as she set plates on the coffee table. The unspoken complexities of their connection hung in the air, entwined with a hint of secrecy. "I-I am sure that Emma wouldn't like to know that we are spending this much time together."

As soon as the word 'distance' left her lips, a palpable tension surged through Harry. Panic set in, triggering a rapid response. He hastily placed the bag down, reaching out for Y/N. In a swift motion, he grasped her wrist, pulling her towards him with a sense of urgency.

"Harry," Y/N cautioned, her hand pressed against his chest, attempting to maintain a boundary. Yet, defiance glinted in his eyes as he refused to relent. He freed her wrist, wrapping an arm around her waist while the other found its place behind her head, gently pushing her closer.

"No," he declared, the word hanging in the charged atmosphere. His lips met hers with a hunger that spoke volumes, a fusion of longing and passion. Initially resisting, Y/N succumbed to the intensity of the moment, reciprocating the kiss with an equal fervor. The living room became a stage for a silent exchange, where unspoken emotions and lingering desires found expression in the fervent embrace of their lips.

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I’d imagined it”

QUESTIONS OF CHAPTER (answer below) Do you condone Harry and Y/N’s actions? Do think Emma deserves get cheated on?

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unabashegirl · 9 days

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Vicious 6 || Harry Styles x Mafia

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

Author's note: here is a new chapter of vicious. let me know what you think and if you would like to get tagged!

— vicious masterlist —

Word count: 1.8K

Exhaustion gripped Y/N as she continued to run, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The fear of capture propelled her forward, the urgency echoing in her heartbeat. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath her shoes added a surreal soundtrack to her escape, while the chilling autumn air hinted at the approaching night.

Desperation compelled her to glance over her shoulder, seeking reassurance that she had eluded pursuit. As the woods seemed to grow quieter, Y/N cautiously slowed her pace, hoping the pursuit had ceased. In a moment of respite, she retrieved her phone, intending to contact Giana for guidance. The realization of no signal sent a wave of frustration through her, quickly overshadowed by the distant barking of dogs and the flickering glow of flashlights. They were closing in.

With dread seizing her, Y/N sprinted once more. The haunting echoes of the pursuing dogs and distant voices added to her terror. Tears welled in her eyes as she ran, the urgency intensified by the proximity of the search party. Then, with a sudden and violent lurch, one of the dogs sank its teeth into her ankle, sending Y/N crashing to the ground, the pain radiating through her like a lightning bolt.

Y/N's cries of pain resonated through the woods as she clutched her injured ankle, tears streaming down her face. The loyal dog, sensing her distress, barked incessantly, calling the attention of the approaching men. As they swiftly gathered around, her heart sank at the sight of her soon-to-be husband.

"Boss," she heard, looking up to find Harry leaning over her with an unreadable expression. His command to bring her back echoed in her ears as he turned away, retracing his steps toward the house. Y/N winced, realizing the extent of her mistake.

Harry seethed with anger. He had been summoned from his office by Charlie, only to discover Y/N's disappearance. What could have been a chance to mend their earlier interaction now seemed lost. His thoughts darkened as he contemplated the corrective measures he would take.

"Where, boss?" Charles inquired as he lifted Y/N's body, ready to transport her back to the house.

"In her room," Harry ordered, then turned to Lex. "Get the medic to her room." The gravity of his impending actions hung heavily in the air.

As Charlie gently laid Y/N on the bed, she couldn't help but voice her questions, her eyes still red from crying. Her soaked sock bore witness to the dog's bite, a painful reminder of her ill-fated escape. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, and the room filled with tension. “Why would. you let your dog bite me?”

Harry, standing at the foot of her bed, didn't mince words. "Someone needed to take you down. Either the dogs or one of my men with a bullet," he explained, watching her grimace in pain. "Where were you going?"

Y/N retorted with defiance, "That’s none of your business," just as the doctor entered the room. "Boss," the doctor acknowledged Harry with a nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "May I?" Harry gave a quick nod, permitting the examination.

The doctor efficiently assessed the wound, offering a glimpse of relief. "It’s not that deep. We’ll just need to clean it and pack it and give her some antibiotics and painkillers."

"Do it," Harry commanded, "let me know when you are done," before leaving the room in search of a drink.

Left alone with the doctor, Y/N saw an opportunity. Whispering her plea, she hoped to find an ally. "Please help me." She dared to suggest an escape, but the doctor merely chuckled, dismissing the notion. "What is everyone so afraid of?" she asked, her eyes searching for understanding.

“You know this could be way worse. You are lucky,” the man said as he applied antibiotics to the wound, hoping to prevent any infection from the dog’s saliva. “Most people that escape don’t have your same fate. They are usually diseased by the time I get there.”

That didn’t make her feel any better. Y/N was shaken. She had seen him almost kill her brother, who shared blood and parents with him. She barely knew him, and she was just an obstacle in his life, a means to rise to power and live the life he had always dreamed of.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling immediate relief as he dressed her wound.

“I am going to administer the antibiotics by IV. Let me see your arm.”

“Can you just get a pill?” She was scared to get drugged. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but she couldn’t help thinking that the doctor was going to drug her from keep her from escaping, obeying Harry.

“I don’t trust you to take them,” he truthfully said as he changed his gloves and prepared everything to find a vein and canalize it. Y/N hesitantly stretched out her arm. He tied the tourniquet, cleaned the area, punctured her. “You might have an upset stomach. I suggest you have dinner.”

“I am not hungry.” The doctor didn’t respond; he was used to it. He had seen and taken care of many things within the walls of the house. He didn’t feel sorry for her. Harry had given her a room and hadn’t dragged her downstairs, which meant he cared for her in a way. The dogs would usually tear people into pieces when found.

“Right. I’ll be back tomorrow to administer your meds and change the dressing,” he informed her as he hung the bag and adjusted the drip. “Liquids, food, and rest.”

“What’s your name?” Y/N asked as he finished packing everything that he had taken out and threw away everything else.

“Cameron,” he said before leaving the room, leaving the door wide open.

Y/N looked around, searching for her phone. She looked at the door, wanting to just run out. Unfortunately, having an IV prevented her from escaping. Before she could get up for her bag and search for her phone, Harry walked in. He made sure to close the door behind him.

A cigarette between his lips and a glass of scotch on the rocks. He had discarded her blazer. His hair was messier from running his hands through it. He wanted to drag her downstairs, chain her to a chair, and have his way with her. He wanted her to regret ever leaving but hurting her would only cause issues with the Italians.

He just knew that he needed to punish her.

“Where were you going?” Harry asked again as he opened the window, the same one she had escaped through. He lit up his cigarette and sat down on the small futon by it. She didn’t say anything. “Are you deaf?”

“I already said it was none of your fuckin' business.”

"Watch your mouth," he sharply said, pointing at her with the cigarette held between his fingers. "You keep thinking this is all a game. I am very tempted to take you downstairs and punish you the only way I know how to. You are not down there merely because of your father."

“I was doing us both a favor,” she shrugged. “You don’t want me here. You’ve made that very clear.” Y/N hoped that Harry continued to believe her father loved and cared for her. The only reason he hadn’t killed her was the consequences he thought it would bring. However, she was sure her father wouldn’t care if she were dead.

“Where were you going? To your father’s?” Y/N laughed and shook her head.

“I am not telling you.” Y/N didn’t want to get Giana in trouble. She still wasn’t sure how far Harry would go to make a statement. Giana’s husband was just as crazy or worse, and she knew he would do crazy things to Giana.

By not telling him, her silence led Harry's mind to a different place. He couldn't help but think she was escaping for a man.

"A man," he said out loud as he took the last drag out of his cigarette. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of his exhale. The air was thick with tension as Harry tried to process the implications of her silence. “Don’t play games with me. Don’t ever, ever think you’re capable of that” He warned her as he banged his hands against the feet of the bed as he stared at her.

“You think you can intimidate me?” She giggled, “My father terrorized me my whole life. You are just a rookie in this game”

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her injured ankle throbbing with pain. The dim light in the room cast eerie shadows, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Harry extinguished his cigarette, the embers glowing in the darkness as he approached her. His eyes were cold and calculating, and a sinister smile played on his lips.

"What game are you playing, Y/N?" Harry's voice was low, a dangerous edge cutting through the air. He towered over her, making her feel small and vulnerable. "You think you can just run away? Escape? You're mine. You were promised to me and you don't get to decide when this ends."

Y/N swallowed hard, her gaze shifting away from his intense stare.

"This is your home now," he sneered, pacing back and forth like a caged predator. "You belong to me, whether you like it or not. Trying to escape will only make things worse for you.”

“What do you want from me?” Y/N's voice wavered, but she mustered the courage to meet his gaze.

Harry leaned in, his face inches from hers, and the smell of his cologne mixed with a faint hint of smoke surrounded her. "I want your obedience, your loyalty. You'll do what I say without question. And if you think running away will save you, you're mistaken.”

Y/N's heart raced as she felt the weight of his threat. She had seen the brutal side of him, the violence he was capable of, and the thought of being at his mercy terrified her. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself.

"I won't be a pawn in your twisted game.”

His hand shot out, grabbing her jaw forcefully. "You don't get to talk back to me," he hissed. "Remember your place, or I'll make sure you regret every moment you thought you could defy me.”

With that, Harry released her, leaving Y/N breathless and shaken. As he walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come, and the walls of her gilded cage closed in around her.

— PREVIEW OF CHAPTER 7 —

A few hours later, the door creaked open, shattering the quiet sanctuary of Y/N's room. Startled, she looked up to find Silas poking his head in, a small, enigmatic smile dancing on his lips. Surprise washed over her at the sight of him; she had half expected him to be buried six feet under. Since the brutal beatdown, she hadn't heard a whisper about his whereabouts.

"Let's go!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a hint of excitement. Despite the sunglasses shielding his eyes, Y/N could discern the remnants of wounds and stitches etched across his face.

Confusion knit her brows tightly together. "Go where?" she inquired, setting her book aside and rising from the bed, a surge of curiosity flooding her senses.

"Anywhere but here," Silas responded cryptically, his gaze flickering around the room as if he anticipated an unwelcome visitor at any moment. "Come on! Before they get back!" he urged, glancing anxiously over his shoulder. "It's now or never."

Anticipation quickened Y/N's heartbeat. She had yearned for a change of scenery, even if it meant incurring Harry's wrath. Without a moment's hesitation, she nodded in agreement and followed Silas out of the room, her spirit alight with the promise of adventure.

If you would like to read ahead and get access to 7 more chapters of vicious and more writing pieces then check out my Patreon and join our community.

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unabashegirl · 1 month

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Vicious 5 || Harry Styles x Mafia

author's note: I just wanted to come on here and thank everyone who has joined Patreon and also everyone who has started following me on here! thank you so so much! I'll be forever thankful for contributing to my education!

warnings: violence, cursing and more.

masterist of vicious

word count: 2.1K

"He's gone." Federico had essentially abandoned her there. He denied her a place in the car, covertly ordered her bags packed, leaving her feeling betrayed by her own father. She wasn't prepared to move in; the prospect of residing in the unfamiliar manor, with its intricate family dynamics, intimidated her. Y/N sensed the impending challenges of being accepted into the family, particularly given her less-than-amicable start with Harry. Fear gripped her as she contemplated the potential difficulties that lay ahead. "I suppose I'm moving in now."

"Who gave you that order?" Harry's questioning tone cut through the air. The last thing he needed was an unfamiliar presence wandering the estate, potentially stirring up trouble. His distrust of her was palpable—she wasn't part of the family, and in his eyes, that meant she hadn't earned any respect or loyalty.

"My father," Y/N retorted, a hint of annoyance evident in her eyes. "Listen, I don't want to be here. The feeling is mutual. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I'm able to leave."

Harry turned to Charlie, seeking answers. "Where is Lex?" Confusion mirrored on Charlie's face, matching Harry's bewilderment.

"He's downstairs, disposing of some things," Y/N revealed, her eyes rolling in disdain.

"He's taking care of the body downstairs," she added, a subtle revelation conveyed to Harry. His sharp gaze turned towards the Italian woman.

"No one was talking to you. Mind your own fucking business," Charlie snapped at Y/N, an unspoken tension filling the room. Unfazed, Y/N merely shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the hostility directed her way. The stage was set for a collision of personalities within the intricate web of the English mafia.

"Go find Silas," Harry commanded Charlie.

"Where is he?"

"How would I know, Charlie?! Go find him. He is probably doing nothing as always," Harry retorted, his frustration evident. The presence of Y/N in the estate irked him; it meant he had to be more discreet about his activities. Her moving in seemed to symbolize a level of commitment he wasn't ready for.

"Who is Silas?" Y/N inquired, her tone laced with curiosity. "Also, can I get a room? Just to leave all of my stuff and shit?"

"Do you know that you ask too many questions?" Harry responded, fingers flying over his phone as he texted Lex, attempting to bring him into his immediate service. There were tasks at hand, and Lex was the only one capable of assisting him.

"You called?" Silas appeared, extricating himself from Charlie's grasp. She had essentially pulled him away from his haven, where he spent his days immersed in books, avoiding the inevitable clashes with Harry.

"Find Y/N a room and keep her out of the way," Harry ordered Silas. The strained atmosphere between the brothers had lingered since their father's funeral, the bitter taste of disappointment for Silas, who felt that Arthur's will had unequivocally favored Harry. Silas turned to glance at Y/N, sizing her up with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

"Who do you think I am? Her fucking babysitter?" Silas spat, disdain dripping from his words. "I've got better things to do than to be at your beck and call." He pivoted on his heel, ready to leave, but Harry had other plans. Something had snapped within him—perhaps it was the insubordination in front of Y/N and his men or the lingering discomfort from Silas's entrance at their father's funeral. Whatever it was, Harry saw red.

Without warning, Harry reached out and seized Silas by the back of his shirt, forcefully bringing him back. A swift punch connected with Silas's nose, and the onslaught continued. The sounds of bones crunching and blood splattering filled the air, and Y/N, horrified, shouted, "STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!" Desperation colored her voice as she tried to pull the enraged Harry away from his battered brother.

Y/N surveyed the room, taking in the unsettling sight of men passively observing Harry disfigure Silas's face. A chilling stillness gripped the air; none of them made a move, objected, or attempted to intervene. They knew the unwritten rule: interfering would redirect Harry's wrath onto themselves, and none dared to challenge the boss. The ominous tableau unfolded, a tableau of silent submission.

Harry eventually halted his assault, his knuckles worn and Silas's body limp beneath him. The room bore witness to a scene reminiscent of a crime documentary, with Harry rising from his knees to his feet. Specks of blood adorned the collar and sleeves of his button-down shirt, and his hands were stained, knuckles split open. Unfazed, he pushed his hair back, presenting a picture of calculated violence.

Without a word to Y/N or anyone else, Harry retrieved a cigarette from his pocket. As he walked past Y/N, a cold and sinister look lingered on his face, leaving an indelible impression on the room's atmosphere.

Y/N waited until Harry left the room and knelt beside Silas. His face bore the evidence of the brutal assault—cuts, a fractured nose, bruised and purple skin, busted lip, and injured eyebrows.

“Don’t touch him or move him,” Charlie warned, already dialing his phone.

“He needs help,” she argued, the memories of her father's similar actions resurfacing, though never with such hatred and never directed at his own brother.

“I know,” Charlie nodded, “What do you think I am doing?” Within ten minutes, the medic and nurse living on the grounds arrived. Silas was carefully transferred upstairs. Y/N could only hope he would recover.

Charlie guided her to a room, noticeably smaller and darker than what she was accustomed to.

“I'm sure this will be enough for you,” Charlie stated. “Dinner will be at eight,” he added before leaving the bedroom. The bed, though not as grand as her usual one, boasted a beautiful canopy, casting a shadow over the somber atmosphere of the English manor.

The bedroom held an air of antiquity, its walls adorned with dark, polished wood paneling that seemed to absorb the ambient light. Heavy drapes, drawn tightly shut, further dimmed the space, casting an almost melancholic aura. The canopy over the bed boasted intricate patterns, a testament to craftsmanship from a bygone era. Despite the opulence of the bed, the room's overall atmosphere felt cold and unwelcoming. An ornate vanity mirror stood in the corner, reflecting the somber scene within the room. The furniture, though well-maintained, bore signs of wear, hinting at the passage of time and the weight of secrets held within the walls of the English manor.

Y/N immersed herself in the task of unfolding and hanging the clothes that had been packed for her, all the while dialing her best friend, Giana. Their friendship had withstood the test of time, enduring since the tender age of five. However, Giana now lived in the clutches of an Italian marriage, leaving Y/N feeling the void of her absence.

"Hi," Giana whispered, orchestrating her escape from the bedroom into the bathroom, where the sound of running water provided a disguise for her voice. The last thing Giana needed was to be overheard by her husband, Augusto. “How is everything?”

"My dad basically kicked me out of the house. I am now staying con gli inglesi," Y/N shared, her voice reflecting a mix of frustration and sadness.

"How is Harry treating you?" Giana inquired, sensing an underlying distress in her friend's response. Y/N couldn't hold back tears as she recounted the distressing scene she had just witnessed. "Quello che è successo?" Giana asked, concerned and probing for details.

"He beat his brother almost to death. It was horrible," Y/N admitted between soft sobs. The realization of the kind of man Harry was had unsettled her deeply. "I don’t know if I can take all of this. I want to leave already. Maybe it is time to put our plan in action."

Giana glanced nervously at the locked bathroom door, a barrier between her and the turmoil of her own married life.

"I don’t know, Y/N," she hesitantly responded. "What if we get caught? The repercussions can be worse."

"But what if we succeed, G? What if we can finally get away from all this shit and live a tranquil life, running that little cafe that you have always wanted to open in a very secluded town? Far and far away from our fathers and nightmares?" Y/N proposed, yearning for an escape from the suffocating grip of their current lives.

Before Giana could respond, and while she contemplated her life, the door began to be pounded by Augusto as he screamed for her to come out.

“I- I can’t, Y/N,” she nervously said, attempting to stay focused on their conversation rather than her husband's escalating shouts. “He won’t let me. He'll search until he finds me.”

“We can do it. You deserve a better life, G. Remember how miserably our mothers were and how young they died,” Y/N urged, able to hear the escalating shouts and the incessant banging on the door.

“Bene, but it must happen tonight,” Giana clarified. Her husband had some business to attend to, which only meant that she would have time to devise a plan to escape the premises.

“Okay. Stasera. Call me when you are able,” Y/N finally said before hanging up. The urgency in Giana's situation only fueled their determination to break free from the shackles of their oppressive lives.

She couldn’t wait. Y/N had to leave before dinner. At dinner all the men would be gather and waiting for her appereance. She had to escape before. That was the only way that she wuld have a chance.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her mind racing as she contemplated the escape plan. She glanced around the room, looking for any potential obstacles or challenges. The window seemed like her best bet; it was a risk, but she had to take it. The room's dim lighting and heavy drapes provided some cover, and she knew Harry would be too occupied with whatever he had happening to go check on her.

First, she quietly opened the window, praying it wouldn't creak and give her away. The chilly night air swept into the room, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. She gathered a few essentials into a small bag – some clothes, her passport, and a bit of money she had managed to save over the years.

Y/N could still hear Harry’s muffled shouts from the other side of the house, giving her a sense of urgency. She looked back at the bed, debating whether to leave a note, but to who? None cared enough for her to want to know.

She experimented with various drapes and bed sheets from her room, carefully easing them down the window. Surveying the scene from her vantage point, she concluded that the space below was empty, ensuring her descent would go unnoticed.

With a quick glance around the room to make sure she had packed all the essentials in her bag, Y/N took a deep breath, summoning the courage to execute her plan. She wrapped the makeshift rope around her hands, securing it tightly, and then began her descent, cautiously lowering herself from the window.

The night air brushed against her face as she descended, and each inch brought her closer to freedom. The silence of the estate enveloped her, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and excitement. The ground neared, and with a soft landing, she released the makeshift rope.

Swiftly making her way to the edge of the property, Y/N took cover in the shadows, avoiding any security cameras or patrolling guards.

Waiting until the echoes of footsteps and voices faded into the night, Y/N swiftly darted into the dense woods. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting an ethereal glow on her determined face. Each step carried her farther away from the imposing estate and the looming fate of an arranged marriage to Harry.

Navigating the shadows and weaving through the trees, Y/N pressed on with a sense of urgency. The forest concealed her movements as she sought a path that would lead her to a road, a lifeline to escape the impending union. The rustling leaves beneath her hurried steps seemed to echo the beats of her racing heart.

In the silence of the woods, Y/N contemplated the enormity of her decision. Yet, the prospect of freedom, away from the suffocating expectations and uncertainties, fueled her resolve. The night air carried both the weight of her familial ties and the promise of a new beginning, and she pressed on, guided by the hope of a life of her own choosing.

Click here to read chapter 6

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