#no mitch content though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harry-on-broadway · 2 years

Text

Hopelessly Devoted

Word Count: 3.1K || Rating: M (contains sexual content)

A/N: So is everyone else still worked up over last night? 😅 Consider this a way to work through those feelings. (We’re also counting this as my entry in my own fic challenge lol My chosen prompt is bolded below). Happy reading! Would love to hear your thoughts!

***

“Remind me what you were last year,” you asked.

The question felt weird and it was hard to believe that Harry had been a stranger to you at this time last year given his constant presence in your life over the past ten months.

“Was Dorothy one night and a clown the next,” he said, voice gravelly from the combination of sleep and overuse.

“You set the bar pretty high for someone who supposedly hates Halloween,” you said affectionately, snuggling closer to him underneath the blankets.

“I try to be a good sport. You know, for Mitch” he replied, smirking and popping one eye open. “Get over here, you’re so far away.”

“Harry, if I was any closer I’d be on top of you.”

“Exactly! Get over here.” He lunged for you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you giggled into his shoulder. Once his grip was secure, he rolled back onto his side of the bed, pulling you with him. When he stopped moving, he opened his eyes and gazed up at you. “Hi…” he said softly.

“Can you give me another hint as to what you’re going to be this year? Is it another group costume?”

“You are relentless, woman!” Harry exclaimed, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to tell me what your costume is.”

“Nope,” he replied, pressing his lips against yours, hoping the gesture would placate you and halt the inquisition.

“If you won’t tell me, how are we supposed to do a couple’s costume?”

“Oh, are you planning on joining me on stage?”

“No,” you said quickly. “You know I’m not about that.”

“Then just be patient, love,” Harry said, moving his hand up your body to rub the back of your neck. “I think you’re going to be pleased with what you see tonight. Let’s just get breakfast now.” He released you and nudged you towards the edge of the bed. “How do you feel about scrambled eggs?”

Thanks to the weekend and a couple of well-deserved vacation days, you’d landed in Los Angeles on Thursday evening, ready for a weekend of shows and relaxation. You hadn’t done much else other than watch Harry perform, and he’d apologized for doing a poor job at playing host, explaining that he really needed his rest. You didn’t care though, it was a treat just to get to sit next to him.

You’d headed over to the arena with him in the afternoon, occupying yourself with your phone and making conversation with whoever was around as Harry went through soundcheck and warmed before retreating from the backstage area when he was told it was time to get dressed. “Have fun, love,” he said on his way out of the room. “I’ll be looking for you,” he added with a wink.

With about an hour left until showtime, you took your time putting the finishing touches on your own costume. You’d opted for the easy way out, a version of Where’s Waldo, complete with a striped top and cap, and when you’d finished dressing you made your way into the arena and settled into the area cordoned off for friends and family to watch Ben’s set. When he’d finished, you settled for people watching around the arena.

It was fun to see what everyone was dressed as. Many had dressed up like Harry and there were even a few dressed up as Marvel characters. You checked your phone and saw that Harry and the rest of the band were running late, which made you nervous, even though you knew there wasn’t a reason to be. What did he have up his sleeve? Finally you saw Pauli and Elin come out of the tunnel and head to the stage in bright pink bomber jackets.

No. He wouldn’t dare.

You flashed back to a conversation you’d had several months ago. You were in his arms, sweat cooling on your bodies as you both tried to catch your breath.

“What’s your favorite movie?” he’d asked, chest rising and falling.

The question, while strange for the situation, didn’t catch you off guard. You’d grown used to Harry’s rapid fire question squeezed into every moment you all were able to salvage together.

“Grease,” you’d said without hesitation.

“Really?” he asked. Even without looking at him you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, I think I was Sandy for like three Halloweens in a row. I used to ask my mom to let me watch the movie every day after school for a couple of years.”

“A couple of years?” he asked incredulously.

“What can I say? It’s a classic!” you said with a laugh. “I also had a bit of a crush on John Travolta. I was very disappointed when I learned that present day-Travolta didn’t look like 1978 Travolta.”

“Noted,” Harry had said, as he rolled back on top of you.

That was all you could think about as you watched Sarah, Yaffra, Mitch, and Ny-Oh file in. You’d counted their characters one-by-one, until you confirmed your suspicions about who Harry would be dressed as.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath as the lights dimmed and the concert’s intro began to play. You kept your eyes trained on the center of the stage, lit up by the spotlight, until you saw the trapdoor open and watched as Harry slowly emerged from the depths of the stage.

The first thing you saw was the wig, and you were only slightly ashamed that it made you feel the way you did, heat spreading through you, setting your body ablaze. The leather jacket and tight black pants had you breathless and you had to remind yourself to take a breath, lest you pass out in the middle of the Kia Forum. The confidence he oozed on a nightly basis was amplified by the outfit, which only drove you wilder. Based on the screams echoing through the building, you weren’t alone in that feeling.

Your eyes followed him as he pranced around the stage. You were brave enough to admit that your gaze was mostly alternating between his ass and – when he’d shed the leather jacket – his arms. You melted even further when you caught a glimpse of the big screen and saw that he had donned eyeliner as well.

A couple of songs in, he caught your eye and threw you a wink, his lips curling into a smile as he did so. The throngs of people in front of you all screamed, each thinking the gesture was directed at them, but you smiled at the knowledge that it was only for you.

The moment of your undoing was at the end of the show, when he tossed the jacket over his shoulder before leaving the stage, running through the tunnel of fans. When he’d disappeared behind the curtain, you and the rest of his team made your way backstage. Harry and the band were high-fiving and celebrating another show in the books, with someone, likely Pauli, starting to pour drinks for everyone. Harry reached for the cup, but stopped when he saw you enter the room, racing over and scooping you up in his arms.

“Surprised?” he whispered in your ear as he spun you around. “Was it worth the wait?” You nodded into his neck. “Why don’t we have a drink and then I’ll get changed and we can head home.”

“How about we have a drink and head home and you keep this on?” you said, surprising yourself with your boldness.

“You –?” Harry pulled back to get a better look at you. “This is really doing it for you?” he asked, throat bobbing.

“Thought you knew I’d always had a thing for Danny?”

“I mean – I didn’t think it was in that way, but hell, I’ll take it,” he grinned. “Tell you what, why don’t we just skip the drink and get out of here.”

“I’d love that plan,” you said. “Don’t forget the jacket,” you added, kissing him gently.

Harry’s eyes widened and you laughed as he all but scampered across the room, grabbing his jacket and offering quick goodbyes to everyone around him.

“Ready?” he asked you, eyes clearer and more focused than they were moments ago. After an affirming nod from you, he took your hand in his and pulled you towards the exit. There was an electricity in the air during the drive home, marred only by Harry’s occasional muttering of “for fuck’s sake” when you hit a tricky bit of traffic, but you made good time and were pulling into his garage before midnight.

He led you through the maze of hallways, not bothering to turn on a light until you reached the bedroom. Once inside the room, he pulled you close to him and placed a searing kiss against your lips. It was surprisingly tame, but you knew he was just trying to control himself ahead of what was sure to be a memorable evening.

“Give me a sec?” he asked when you parted. “I just want to freshen up.”

You nodded, and sat on the bench at the end of the bed where he tossed the jacket next to you. Harry closed the bathroom door behind him and you were left alone in the quiet, empty room. Stretching, you looked down, suddenly aware that Waldo was not the best outfit for setting the mood. You pulled at the shirt trying to expose more of your cleavage before giving up. Your eyes landed on Harry’s leather jacket next to you and an idea formed.

You shed your striped top, rummaging through the suitcase beside the dresser for some of the sexier undergarments you’d packed for this exact occasion before settling on a pair of lacy underwear. You removed the rest of your clothes, replacing your everyday cotton briefs with the red garment and pulled Harry’s jacket on top of your naked torso so that it just covered your bare breasts.

You heard the click of the bathroom door latch and jumped. “Don’t come in!” you shouted.

“Um, OK…” Harry said suspiciously.

You took a look in the mirror surveying yourself and your new outfit for any imperfections, but were largely pleased with what you saw.

“OK, you can come in now,” you said, adjusting your hair so that it fell just right. You arched your back as you leaned against the wall, praying that the pose you settled on was more sexy than awkward. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in the sultriest voice you could manage as Harry walked in.

Harry stared at you. “What’s this then?”

“That is my line, right?” you giggled, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious over your attempt at seduction.

“You’re fucking right that’s your line,” Harry said, voice low and deep with desire as he crossed the room in three strides and pressed you against the wall. “Say it, again,” he said against your lips.

“Stud,” you whispered, soft and slow.

“Fuck,” he hissed against your skin. You could feel a hardness below his belt as he pressed his full body weight against you.

“Do you like this?” you asked.

“What do you think?” he replied, wrapping one of his hands around your neck and pulling you forward to meet his lips. He closed the gap between you all with a ferocity you’d never experienced. He nipped at your lips, parting them just enough to slot his tongue in between them and you moaned at the intrusion.

Mouths occupied, his free hand traced its way up your waist before settling on your breast. The tip of his index finger ghosted over your nipple in a slow, teasing circle, causing it to harden underneath of his touch. Your breathing quickened and he increased the pace of his circles to match your breath before stopping.

You made a wounded noise at the loss of the sensation but gasped when his mouth replaced his fingers and you felt a jolt of pleasure throughout your entire body. His mouth was hot and wet against the skin of your breast and you tried to stay in the moment and memorize the feel of him on your body. His other hand landed on your left breast and he repeated the sequence.

Without breaking contact, Harry looked up at you as he continued his attack on your breasts, feeling his cock harden even more as he took in the look of pure ecstasy on your face. He was quite confident in his abilities in the bedroom, but he didn’t think he’d ever caused you to come undone this quickly before.

“Harry,” you panted, interrupting his reverie.

“Yes?”

“I need –” you started.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you need.”

You took a shaky breath. “I need your mouth on my clit.”

Harry bit his lip, closed his eyes, and willed himself not to cum on the spot. You were never shy about what you wanted during sex, but were also rarely this direct, opting for subtle corrections or guidance. When he’d calmed himself, he looked back up at you. “Your wish is my command.”

He kissed down your body, leaving a wet trail down your stomach and ribs, continuing to kiss around your thighs, pulling them apart to better position himself at your center. His hands drifted to your hips and he slowly pulled your panties down until they pooled around your ankles. With nothing between you and him, he brought his hands underneath your ass to pull you close to his face, relishing how the feel of your skin under his palms and the hem of the leather jacket surrounded him in softness.

You placed one of your hands in his hair, ready to push him to you, but he dove in without preamble before you could make a move. He lapped at your wet folds clearly avoiding the one spot you most wanted him.

“Don’t be a tease,” you whined, hating how desperate you sounded.

“You know you like it,” he shot back, and as infuriating as it was, he was absolutely right.

You were relaxing into his touch, growing somewhat content with the feeling and trying to ignore the desire that was pulsing within you. Which is why you were caught off guard when he suddenly locked his lips around your clit, dragging his teeth gently along the sensitive skin.

You yelped with pleasure and felt your knees go weak at the sensation. Harry tightened his arms around you, which served the dual purpose of keeping you upright and bringing his face deeper between your legs, which in turn only intensified the waves of satisfaction that were ricocheting through your body.

“Harry, I’m – oh!”

You knew it was coming, but your orgasm still surprised you, in both its intensity and duration. Harry didn’t falter throughout it, keeping his ministrations steady as he helped you ride it out, only pulling away when he could feel your breathing start to even out.

“Easy there,” he said when you tried to step back on unsteady legs.

You sank down the wall before settling into his lap and kissing him, long, hard, and deep. “Your turn,” you said, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. As you looked into his eyes, you saw that the eyeliner on his waterline had grown smudged from the sweat that dotted his face. “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you,” he said, hands once again finding your ass. “On top. Want to see you.”

You smiled, and eased up onto your knees. “Well, I think these are in the way,” you said, fingering the button of his pants, and pulling the tight garment down his legs, throwing them and his briefs behind you. His shirt was next and once he was completely naked below you, you started to shrug off the jacket you were still wearing.

“No. Leave it,” he said, pulling it back up your shoulders.

His cock was jutting proud, red, and already leaking against his stomach, but you gave him a few tentative strokes anyways as you slid the condom on him, enjoying the way his face contorted with pleasure alongside your touch. Satisfied, you lifted your hips once again and sank down onto him. You were already wet, so you took him with little resistance, but even with that it was still a tight fit and you swallowed thickly when he was fully inside you. You took a moment to savor the sensation that only Harry – not your hand or some toy – could give you.

After a moment, you moved up and down, testing the waters, while Harry hissed below you. You leaned over top of him, your breasts pressed against his chest, the loose flaps of the jacket hanging open over top of your bodies, and you tentatively rolled your hips, slow at first, but building speed until you found a pace that felt manageable for you and good for Harry based on the sounds he was emitting.

“Do you like this?” you asked him. He nodded. “Tell me,” you said. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“So good. So fucking good, baby,” he rambled beneath you. The ragged sound of his breathing and the incoherence of his thoughts indicated that he was close. You knew what he needed and leaned down once more and kissed him, wet and sloppy, and seconds later you felt him stiffen and spill over inside of you. You continued to kiss him, loving the way he moaned against your lips, and when he was done, you lifted off of him and laid down next to him.

He stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. “I–. You –. Fuck,” he finally said.

“Love you too, Harry,” you replied. You shifted next to him, taking off the leather jacket which was now sticking to you uncomfortably. Completely naked, you shivered as the AC kicked on, drying the sweat on your body.

Sensing your discomfort, Harry pulled you into him, gently rubbing your back. “This was a great treat, love,” he said. “Not sure next year will be able to top this.”

“Next year?” You knew you both were happy in the relationship and had no plans for anything to change, but hearing him talk so casually about the future did something to you. Maybe it was the hormones, but you were suddenly overcome by an intense wave of affection for the man lying next to you.

“Yeah,” Harry said confidently, turning to look at you. “You’re the only one for me and I hope I make that clear to you every day.”

“Hopelessly devoted,” you said, with a light chuckle.

“Hopelessly devoted to you, love.”

***

talk to me!

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #harry fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic

1K notes · View notes

kilistina · 1 year

Note

hiii just wanted to say i love ur posts so much. ur so good at writing pls never stop😫 i just finished reading punk 57 and the whole “tell me something true” line has me in a CHOKEHOLD. pls pls pls write about assholery being cold and distant with y/n out of nowhere even though they’re friends. can the reader be fem and have bunny as a nickname too? it’s been on my miiind and i just know you’ll write it to perfection <33

i fucking ADORE this suggestion sm. whoever you are, message me pls bc i wanna rack your brain for more lmao

lmk if you wanna be tagged in part 2 when—if—it comes out <3 i hope y’all enjoy this part though bc it’s truly one of my favourites so far.

i recommend listening to these two songs while reading: wet dream - wetleg, desire - meg myers

•••

dirty dancing. pt1

word count: 4.4k-ish

disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. brief coke mention—in passing, includes fem! reader n harry styles, bold ass language, kinda slow burn but not really, some sexy dancing ig n aaaangst. enjoy my whores <3

•••

Things have been weird with Harry for a while now. You’re not exactly sure how or why the rift even started, but it did. And it’s only been getting worse.

You’ve been friends for what—two years now? Never too close, but close enough to be able to communicate about any issues you’ve had with each other. You and Harry don’t really argue, he’s not the confrontational type. Not with you, anyway. And not when he’s sober.

You aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation either. When things get too heated or overwhelming, you cry. It embarrasses you—being unable to handle your emotions. You know that you’re only human, and you’d never judge someone else for crying in the middle of an argument, but because it’s you, because you know yourself so well, you judge yourself over it. Weird pattern, but hey, it’s real.

Right now, you’re out at a bar with your friends—the same group you’ve been hanging around since high school. Mitch and Sarah have been highschool sweethearts for as long as you can remember, they’re like the parents of the group. The cool parents. The parents everyone secretly wishes they could have. Niall and Lewis are attached at the hip, too—platonically. Been best friends since the day they met.

You’re the closest with Niall since you’ve been living with him through college, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You have other girlfriends but they’re not as close to you as Niall and Sarah are. Sarah’s like a diamond you’ve always loved. They all are. They’ve always been by your side when you needed them—Harry included. You got lucky, sure. Not everybody has the luxury of picking the good ones before college and life gets in the way.

The bar is slowly coming to life. People who came for a meal are leaving, and people in the mood for a night of drinking and dancing are all piling in. You’re excited. It’s been way too long since you’ve let loose. You’ve been too stumped with work and college lately, you’ve barely had any time to breathe without someone breathing right there with you. And of course, you enjoy the company of others. But when you have to be sober for it all? Eh.

Harry’s similar to you in that sense. He loves socialising. Absolutely adores it. He’s an extrovert. But after weeks of constant company, he gets burnt out. The only thing that helps toughen the blow is alcohol. Or coke, but he’s stopped that for a while now.

You prop your elbows up on the edge of the bar and lean against it, looking around for the bartender. He has his back to you, mixing someone else’s drink. You clear your throat and he turns his head to the side, catching sight of you and nodding his head to let you know he’ll be a moment. You nod back and wait, turning to face your friends.

“Anyone wanna shot with me?” You arch a brow at your five friends, and they all smirk and nod their heads. Harry included. “We all good for a vodka?”

Everyone nods a second time in response, and you turn back to face the bartender.

“What can I do for you, gorgeous?” He shoots you a warm smile.

“Five shots of vodka, please.” You smile back at him and he nods.

“Straight?”

“No, gay,” You murmur a witty reply and he laughs, beginning to fill five shot glasses for you. You swear you can hear Harry coughing back a laugh from behind you too, but you don’t pay him any attention.

You double tap your phone’s off switch, activating the apple pay, and you hold it up to pay for your drinks.

“No need, beautiful,” The bartender holds his hand up, “This round’s on me.”

You shrug, exhaling dramatically, “I won’t try and convince you to let me pay.”

“I wouldn’t let you try.” The attractive bartender plays along, smirking at you.

You mouth a quick thank you to him and he gives you one final wink before turning his attention to the small group of girls next to you, catering to them now. You grab the shot glasses off the counter and hand them out to everyone, and you all hold them up and clink them together before downing them in seconds.

“Fuck,” Sarah sticks her tongue out as if that’s going to help the taste in her mouth, “Never gets easier does it?”

“Doesn’t need to,” Niall grins proudly, setting his shot glass down on the counter, “You’re just weak.”

“Yeah we fuckin’ get it, you’re an Irish heavyweight. We should all bow down at your feet, you’re a king and we’re peasants who can’t handle a measly shot.” Lewis rolls his eyes and pretends to worship him.

Niall frowns in confusion, “Who you calling a heavyweight?”

Harry snorts at the two men bickering. They’re like two peas in a pod, and typically, people who are so close tend to argue every now and then.

The group has that dynamic. Sarah and Mitch, Niall and Lewis, you and Harry? You’re not sure if you and Harry count. You’re not as close as the others. You wouldn’t call him a best friend. A friend, yes. A good friend? That’s pushing it, but still, yes. A best friend? No.

It’s not that you wouldn’t like to be closer. You’ve just never really been given the chance. Harry’s always kept a safe distance from you. You’ve hardly ever spent time alone, always speaking and engaging with each other the most when others are around to witness it. Sure, a part of you wishes that Harry would pay you more attention, but the other part of you doesn’t think he deserves it. If he wanted to, he would, right?

“And aren’t you Irish too?” Niall questions Lewis, continuing on with their unserious bickering.

“Yeah like a third,” Lewis shrugs, “From my dad’s side, but you already knew th—stop deflecting. Y/N, tell him to stop deflecting from how much of a cock he is.” He points towards you and tries to get you involved.

You giggle and shrug your shoulders, “You are a bit of a cock sometimes, Ni.”

“Both of you can suck me, honestly. I’m fuckin’ great.” Niall flicks his hair dramatically and you and Lewis snicker.

“I’m with Niall,” Harry lightly nudges Niall’s chest with his elbow, joining in on the joke, “Both of you can suck him.”

“You fucking weirdos,” Mitch shakes his head at the lot of you, not surprised in the slightest by your antics, “Miss Jones and I are gonna go dance, you lot can either keep bickering or come join us. Choice is yours.”

With that, they both head for the dance floor together, holding their hands in the air and laughing.

“I’m joining those twats,” Lewis gestures to them, looking at the rest of you, “You three game?”

Niall nods, “Course. Harry, Y/N?”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” You nod towards the bar, “I feel like some more drinks.”

Everyone’s attention shifts to Harry. He clears his throat as he thinks for a moment, “Yeah, me too. Be there in a bit.”

Lewis and Niall both nod at Harry and beeline for the dance floor, already beginning to bicker again on the way. You giggle at the sight of them and shake your head, turning to face the bar again. Harry joins you, standing by your side. Neither of you look at each other, you keep your eyes in front of you at the neat array of liquor set along the counter.

“Nice night, don’t you think?” You break the awkward silence threatening to form between the two of you.

You catch sight of Harry nodding his head, “Always a nice night with this lot.”

Dry as fuck. You might not be close with Harry, but you aren’t stupid. You know the way he speaks to people, you’ve seen it. Harry could have an hour long conversation with a tree. But with you, it seems like a fucking chore.

You want to scoff. You want to scoff at how fucking childish Harry’s acting with you. Why can’t he look at you or have a normal conversation with you?

You sigh, not wanting to overreact over such a minor reply and ruin the night for yourself. Although Harry seems to be doing a decent job of that himself.

“Can’t argue with that.” You murmur.

“Mhm.” Harry murmurs and you wait a beat for him to say something else, anything else.

He doesn’t.

That’s it.

“I feel like I don’t know you.” Your words spill out before you can stop them.

Harry’s taken by surprise. He turns to face you. Now he’s looking, at least. “Sorry?”

“I feel like I don’t know you.” You sigh, repeating yourself.

“What is there to know?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, gesturing to the bartender that he wants a glass of something.

“You tell me, Harry Styles.”

He sighs, running a hand through his curly hair, “Y/N, what are you trying to get at here?”

You shrug, “I dunno, I feel like I click with everyone else. I’ve got a connection with everyone, H. Everyone but you.” Your words come out harsher than you intended. You’d feel a little guilty if they weren’t true. But they are.

“That was unnecessary.” Harry murmurs so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.

“You asked me a question and I answered it.” You stand your ground, sick of Harry’s half-assed efforts to conversing with you. You’re a catch, your friendship is amazing, and you’re great to talk to. What the hell is Harry’s problem?

He laughs, scoffing at you in disbelief, “Fuck, you’re such a bitch sometimes.”

You almost choke on your own saliva, “Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me, Y/N. I called you a bitch. Because that’s what you are half the time when shit doesn’t go your way.” Harry doesn’t know where this is all coming from, but it’s coming.

He doesn’t mean it, obviously. He’d never mean that. He doesn’t think you’re a bitch. Again, never. But he’s angry. He’s angry and you’re angry and you’re both speaking without thinking it through properly and you’re both making an absolute mess of the situation and each other—

“What the fuck?” You stare at Harry in shock, your eyes wide with disgust.

He’s confused by your offended reaction, “What, are you surprised or something? Come on, Bunny. You know better than that.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass,” You scold him, “We used to get along. We used to be closer. We’ve never been as close as the others but at least we used to speak. At least I was able to walk into a room knowing you were there and look forward to it.”

His face relaxes at your words. He knows you mean well. You’ve both been hotheaded for a moment but now you seem to be calming down. You’re bringing your point across well and he can’t fault you for it.

“But what now? What fuckin’ now, H? You never speak to me when we’re alone, and then when you finally do, it’s this. It’s an attack on my character. Does this shit get you off or something?”

Never mind.

Harry scoffs at your sudden change in tone, feeling agitated again, “Fuck you.”

You slam your hand on the counter, “Fuck you, Harry!”

He glares at you as you continue scolding him, “What the hell are we even doing here? Go spend time with your actual friends.”

“Hey, wait a second. What?” He leans his head to the side in confusion, not knowing what you mean, “We’ve known each other for years, Bunny.”

“I don’t know a single thing about you.” You point out, making him roll his eyes. “Don’t roll your—“

“Where’s my favourite place to eat?” Harry cuts you off with a question. A question that you know the answer to.

 “That’s not—”

“Where do I go when I’m upset?” Again, another question you can answer.

“Harry—”

“How did I get the scar on my chin?” That’s a special question. You gave it to him the day you met.

You sigh, knowing where he’s going with this. He’s not understanding what you’re trying to tell him and it infuriates you.

You tap the tips of your fingers on the countertop, feeling anxious, “That’s not what I—”

“You do know me, Y/N. we don’t need to speak every two seconds or braid each other’s hair to know each other well.”

Your eyes begin to prick with tears. That isn’t what you meant and he knows that.

“That’s not what I meant.” You lower your voice as it threatens to crack.

“Then what did you mean, Bunny?” He crosses his arms and stares at you, waiting on an explanation.

You groan, throwing your head in your hands.

The truth is, you can explain. You can explain everything you’re feeling well. But is that going to get you anywhere right now? Maybe. Maybe not. You have a better idea.

“Do you consider me a friend?”

Harry’s face drops. You can tell that he’s upset and borderline offended that you’re even asking that question.

Of course you’re friends. You’ve been friends for years. He adores you. Why can’t you see that he adores you?

“Bunny..” He takes a step towards you, and you take one back.

“Do you?” You insist on getting a solid answer.

“Of course I consider you a fr—”

“Don’t lie.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m not—”

“Tell me something real, Harry. Please. God, please just tell me something that isn’t base level for once,” You beg, “Tell me something true.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. He’s taken back. He wasn’t expecting that from you at all.

He stays silent.

“You can’t, can you?” You scoff at him, not knowing why you expected anything to come from this conversation. You should’ve known better than to be hopeful about how things were going to go with Harry..because it’s Harry, “I don’t know why I thought you’d—“

“I still smoke cigarettes.” Harry cuts you off, blurting out an admission. He tenses his jaw in realisation—he’s just as shocked as you are.

Oh.

Your eyes widen at his confesion. Harry’s been gloating to everyone about how he so easily quit smoking three months ago. You’re all so proud of him, considering how difficult it is to quit something cold turkey the way he did. The rest of you haven’t been able to shake the bad habit. Apparently, neither has he.

“You do?” You question.

He nods, “Less. But I do.”

“Why?”

He almost smiles at your question, “Why do I smoke?”

“Why did you lie about it?”

He sighs, looking down as he answers you, “Everyone’s got something, right? Sarah and Mitch have their relationship, Niall has his singing, Lewis has his stand-up every Friday, you have your double degree. I just wanted something that everyone could be proud of. Felt like something small like that would’ve been manageable to keep hidden from everyone.”

You frown, “Harry..”

“No,” He shakes his head, refusing to let you feel sorry for him, “No. Seriously, no. We’re not about to do pity. That’s not what we do with each other.”

“Okay,” You clear your throat and agree to let it go, grabbing a now filled shot glass and handing it over to him, “Drink?”

He smirks at you, silently thanking you as he reaches forward and takes the shot glass from you.

“Sorry for calling you a bitch.” He murmurs, offering you a small, sincere smile.

You give him one back, “Sorry for being one.”

His small smile turns into a grin.

“To the truth.” You hold your glass up to cheers his with.

“To the fuckin’ truth.”

You both down your shots and tap them down on the counter to gesture for the bartender to refill them. He complies and neither of you waste a second to down the next ones. Over and over, shot after shot, you continue to drink until you’re buzzed.

You’re both good at handling your liquor, and you know how much you can take. By the time you’re done with your shots, you’re over the moon. Buzzed and aware. Aware of what you feel, aware of where you are, aware of who you’re with. Aware.

Harry leans down, his face dangerously close to yours. He’s never been this close, you don’t think. You’ve never seen his face so clearly, you’ve never seen his chest tattoos so well, his necklace dangling, his—

“Should we go dance with the others now, you think?” He speaks into your ear and you feel your stomach beginning to erupt with nerves.

“Yeah,” You inhale sharply, nodding, “Sure.”

Harry grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd, keeping a hold of you even when you reach where your friends are. The contact is strange but you welcome it, liking the new barrier that’s being broken between the two of you.

Over the years, you’ve noticed how touchy he can get when he’s under the influence, so you have an idea of what you’re getting into. You like being on the receiving end for once. You could get used to this side of Harry. You like being his friend. His real friend.

Once you get to where the others are, you quickly gauge what they’re all doing. Mitch and Sarah are in their own little world as usual, dancing together as if it’s their wedding night. Niall’s dancing with a random girl he’s probably going home with later tonight and Lewis is making a fool of himself in the middle of them. Ah, friendship. You love to see it.

“Nice song, yeah?” Harry leans over to your ear, speaking over the music. The song playing is one of your all time favourites—Wet Dream by WetLeg.

Anyone who knows you, knows the way you feel about this song. It’s become tradition to play it everytime you carpool. A fine tradition, you think.

“Oh, the best.” You start bopping your head to the beat of the song, singing along with the lyrics you know and love.

“I was in your wet dream driving in my caaar, saw you at the side of the road, there’s no one else around you’re touching yourself, touching yourself—“ You start yelling out the words along with everyone else on the dance floor, shaking your head side to side and dramatising every word. Harry watches you and smirks, letting you have your moment.

“You said—“

You’re about to keep singing the next part when he beats you to it, “Baby do you want to come home with me? I got Buffalo ‘66 on dvd!”

You let out a surprised laugh at the fact that Harry even knows the words to the song, loving that you’re seeing this side to him. You’d never expect to have something as simple as loving a song like this in common, but here you are.

Beam me up—beam me up!

Count me in—count me in!

Three, two, one—three, two, one!

Let's begin!

The song continues and you realise that you’ve both been staring at each other for a good ten seconds in silence, just taking in the sight of each other. Harry really is beautiful. The way his hair hangs perfectly below his shoulders. The way his dimples show at the smallest hint of a smile. The way his eyes burn into yours. You never want to see anything else. Just him. Just Harry.

“I was in your wet dream, driving in my caaaar!” Harry’s voice breaks you out of your daydream, and you laugh as he grabs your hands, dancing with you to the beat of the song.

“What makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?” You continue the song and he pretends to be shocked, acting out the song with you.

“You climb onto the bonnet and you’re licking the windscreen! I’ve never seen anything so obscene!” You both sing the next part together, leaning in close to each other’s faces and practically screaming with the biggest smiles on your faces, “It’s enough! To make a girl blush! It’s enough! It’s enough to make a girl blush!”

The rest of the song plays and you both continue to scream out every word, making the most of the moment you’re having and hoping it never ends. Neither of you are sure what’s going on but neither of you are complaining. You’re both witnessing a new side to each other and you’re enjoying it. Perhaps you were made to be best friends like the others. Maybe it was meant to happen like this.

The song eventually comes to an end and you both let out a deep sigh, catching your breath for a moment as another random song plays.

Harry looks down at you with parted lips, “Nice singing, Bunny.”

“Could say the same to you, H.” You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The move is natural and you don’t put too much thought into it. Neither does Harry.

His hands find their way to your waist and you both sway in time with the music, singing the lyrics into each other’s faces and having the time of your lives.

“I haven’t had sex in 5 months!” His voice is just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

He leans closer to your face, “I said—I said I haven’t had—”

“No I—I heard you H,” You chuckle, “I’m just a little—”

“Surprised? Yeah me too.” He grins at you, suddenly seeming to be completely comfortable with you in a way you never expected, “I stole that chocolate bar from you last week by the way, it wasn’t Niall.”

You laugh for a moment at his strange confessions until you process what he just told you, “Wait that was you?”

 “Loud ‘n proud, bunny.” He grins proudly.

“You—you fucker!” You gasp, playfully hitting his chest with one of your hands, keeping the other where it was around his neck.

 He chuckles, playing along, “Did you forget what I just—”

“Shut up!”

You both laugh, continuing to move your bodies together.

“What about you? Tell me something true.”

You purse your lips together, trying to come up with something to tell Harry. There’s a million things you could tell him, but you want to catch him off guard. You want to see an honest, raw reaction from him.

“I think you’re really pretty.” You finally say, shrugging your shoulders.

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, unsure if you’re being serious. “Pretty?”

You nod.

He tilts his head for a moment, “Weird choice of words.”

“I don’t think so,” You smile at him, “You’re a pretty boy.”

He smiles back, “You’re a pretty bunny.”

“We’re pretty.”

“We are.”

You both smile at each other and share a brief moment. A moment of what—you’re not sure. Two friends being supportive of each other? Two friends suddenly becoming closer and making the most of it? Two friends two friends two friends—

The next song begins playing and your heart begins to pace more. Desire, Meg Myers.

The two of you exchange a look, knowing that you won’t move together to this song the same way you have been for the others.

You know that you won’t be singing along with this one. You’d rather feel it. Feel Harry.

You move your hands away from around Harry’s neck, and he keeps his on your waist, holding you close. You move your hands down and place them over his, feeling electric all of a sudden.

Baby, I wanna fuck you

I wanna feel you in my bones

The song is loud and the coloured lights are flashing red. The atmosphere has changed—not only in the bar and on the dance floor, but between you and Harry. The way he’s looking at you is different. The way you’re looking at him is different. The way he’s touching you is different. The way you’re touching him is different.

I’m gonna tear into your soul

You begin to sway your hips to the beat of the song, holding your eyes over Harry’s. Neither of you dare to look away. You wouldn’t dream of it.

How do you want me?

You begin to turn your body in time with the music, turning your back to Harry. He leans his head down, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his hands by your waist as you continue to move against each other. You feel a surge of confidence—you’re not sure if it’s the song, if it’s the alcohol, if it’s Harry’s random confessions, if it’s the feelings you’ve been suppressing from him for years—but it’s here. It’s here and you’re about to make the most of it.

Yeah I gotta hurt you, I gotta hear it from your mouth

Boy, I wanna taste you, I wanna skin you with my tongue

I’m gonna kill you

You lean your ass back, moving it against Harry’s crotch. He sucks in a breath, and the only way you know it is because you feel his teeth graze the skin of your bare shoulder. Your eyes close at the feeling and you grow bolder, moving the same way a second time.

He tightens his grip on your waist. You can feel the bulge of his cock against your ass and you can only imagine how much it’s straining against the band of his jenas. You almost pity him. Almost.

I wanna feel you

I want it all

I wanna feel you

I want it all

You continue moving against Harry, enjoying his little reactions to your touch. To the way you feel. He begins trailing kisses down your neck, applying pressure and sucking on your skin. You still. You can’t focus on anything but the way his lips feel against you.

What’s going on between you both? What the fuck is happening? Why the fuck has it taken so long? Why couldn’t it happen sooner?

So many questions.

“Bunny,” Harry groans against your shoulder, placing one last kiss to your neck before moving his mouth to your ear, “Tell me something true.”

You know exactly what you want to say. Again, there’s so much you want to tell him. You want to tell him how good he feels against you, how much you love the way he moves his body against yours. You want to tell him that you feel the connection now. You want to tell him that you know he can feel it too. There’s so much to say, but you settle for the most simple thing. The most important one.

“I want you.”

•••

aaahhhh!!! i’m sososo proud of this one. idk why but this shot has a special place in my heart. the smut will be included in the second part. and believe me, it’s gonna be SMUT. i’m such a whore for angst n this friendship trope is just chef’s kiss.

anyway enough chat. i hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 if you liked what you read then please reblog n comment. feel free to suggest ideas for new posts too.

have a good day or night wherever you are n stay safe, always <3

- k

526 notes · View notes

narrycherries · 1 year

Text

🌼like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do🌼 part 2 (dadrry)

Harry tries his best to keep her calm at the studio, but something seems wrong with the baby..

masterlist 🌼 part 1 🌼 join the taglist

word count: 4.3k

warning/tags: dadrry, fluff, breastfeeding

A chuckle fell from Harry’s lips as he squatted down to the blanket spread out in the floor. The baby was casually eating Cheerios from a small bowl with one hand, while the other clutched a yellow rubber duck. She was given a quick bath this morning after having a diaper mishap, and she just wouldn’t let the duck leave her sight. You were sitting near her, your back agonist the couch as you kept a close eye on her. The studio floor was clean and there was nothing noticeable that she could grab to put in her mouth, but you still watched her every move. Harry was taking a break from working on a song with Mitch, they happened to be the only two in the studio today. Your baby was wary of strangers and being in a room with a lot of people, so it was a relief to know you wouldn’t have to worry about her becoming anxious. She recognized Mitch enough to ignore him.

“Are those yummy, my love?” He asked with a smile as she extended her hand, her fingertips pinching a cheerio to show him. “Thank you, darling.” He laughed to himself as he took the Cheerio from her and popped it in his mouth.

Her attention shifted back to the rubber duck in her hand. She switched it to the other hand, watching herself move the toy in the air. He admired the way she explored her own little world, it was a sight to see. Harry pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before standing up and walking to the couch. He sat down, his hand gently touching the back of your head.

“Bored to death yet?”

You smiled, leaning your head back to look at him. “No, we’ve been listening to you. Every time you would say baby she’d look around for you.”

He had been going over a song in the singing booth with Mitch, just tossing out verses and trying to arrange the lines how he liked. He had left the door open so that you weren’t completely shut off from him, but he was far enough away to work without being distracted by the baby. She had been content the entire time, playing with her toys and eating her snack.

“That’s cus she’s wondering why Dada is calling someone else his baby, yeah?” Harry said with a grin as her head snapped up from where she had been staring at the duck, her eyes instantly finding him. “That’s my sweet baby, isn’t it?”

She gave him a happy squeal and started shaking the duck in the air, babbling to him. He gave her a nod and a few words of encouragement, always happy to listen to her ramble noises out. You closed the book you had been skimming over after marking the page and sat it down on the floor. You climbed onto the couch next to him, slipping your arm around his neck and pecking his cheek.

“Just a couple more hours.. I just ordered dinner for us.” He said with a sigh, looking over at you with lustful eyes. “We’re definitely going to have some Mommy-Daddy time when we get home.”

You laughed softly, looking at the baby who was still sitting on the floor playing and keeping herself occupied. “Then you better hope someone goes down easily.”

“Uncle Mitch could keep her for the night.” Harry teased as Mitch walked in from the booth, sitting the notebook he had down on the table.

He scoffed. “Please. She’s a cute one, but she cries way too much.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “She only cried that time because she hates being away from us.. or maybe she just doesn’t like you all that much.”

“Hey, if you’d stop spoiling her she’d be willing to stay with us.”

Harry shook his head. “She isn’t spoiled.”

You let out a laugh and patted his stomach. “You’ve spoiled her rotten, honey.”

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “She’s my baby.. of course m’gonna spoil her.”

“Has she said Dada yet?” Mitch asked with a smirk, he knew how irritated that made Harry.

“Not yet. She’s working on it though.” You said with a smile, pressing another kiss to Harry’s jaw. “Someone’s impatient.”

“How old is she?”

“She’ll be ten months next week.” Harry said, suddenly moving his eyes down to his lap where he picked at his thumbnail.

You noticed that he was downcast a bit, which was to be expected. Sometimes he handled the picking fine, and his friends didn’t bother him by what they said. But other times, it was hard for him to deal with everything. Why was it such a bad thing that he spoiled his baby girl? Isn’t that his job, to make sure she’s loved and has every little thing she desires? Of course, he knows Mitch wasn’t mocking him - but now the thought of her not saying his name was on his mind. He loved that little girl so much, and he was disappointed that she hadn’t said his name yet. He wasn’t disappointed in her, no - but in himself. Was he not trying hard enough? Was he not saying it enough around her and encouraging her like he had with Mama? He wasn’t sure of anything.

Mitch excused himself to take a phone call, leaving you alone with Harry. You sighed while raking your fingers through his messy hair.

“Do you want some baby snuggles?”

He smiled gently, shaking his head a little as he rested his hand on your leg. “Wan’ you for a bit.”

You faked a gasp. “Me? Why me?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Always want you, sugar.”

You were aware that he was experiencing some feelings, so you gave his scalp a gentle scratch and just looked at the side of his face for a moment. He was watching the baby, who was still playing with the duck. She was dropping it in the bowl of Cheerios, then picking it up. She was entertaining himself and Harry just softly smiled as he watched.

“You’re a great daddy.” You whispered, flicking your eyes to the baby.

“M’okay, I guess.”

“You’re doing everything fine.. she’ll say your name when she’s ready.” You reminded him, again kissing his cheek.

He sighed, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “What if she doesn’t want to?”

“Babe, she’s got to learn how to make new sounds.. she can’t do it magically.“

Harry looked down at his thighs again, feeling a knot in his stomach. He feared he wasn’t doing something right. What if he was supposed to spend more time talking to her and repeating sounds? What if she was tired of him pestering her? He was in his head about it constantly, but right now everything seemed to stir up at once.

You took a deep breath and decided to move onto his lap. He welcomed you with a kiss to your lips, his arms going around you. Your fingers twisted in his hair, practically holding his head up.

“Please don’t be worried about this, Harry. She’s not even a year old yet.. she’s got plenty of time to learn.”

He huffed. “What if m’not teaching her enough? Like.. like saying it enough so she’s hearing it?”

“Honey, you’re doing everything right. We both say it all the time.. she knows who her Dada is.” You pressed your hand to his jaw, rubbing his skin softly with your thumb. “She’s just a little baby, yeah? She’s trying her best.”

He frowned. “I know she’s doing her best. She’s so smart.. i just.. m’not blaming her. It’s me.”

“It’s not you, babe.“

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” He shook his head, trying to turn his head away but you didn’t let him.

“Harry.”

“Please, baby. Please.”

You licked your lips, eyes staring into his. It was clear that he was bothered by everything, and he was silently pleading to move on. So, you opted to change the subject.

“Do you really want to have Mommy-Daddy time tonight?”

He smirked. “Of course.. I always want Mommy-Daddy time.”

You smiled back. “I know.. just can’t resist me, hm?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling at you. “Can say the same about you, baby.”

“How’s the song going? It sounds really good.”

He pursed his lips. “I dunno. It’s alright, I guess.”

“I like it, someone else seemed to be intrigued by it.”

He smiled at the mention of the baby. “My two biggest fans, hm?”

“Don’t forget Mitch.” You laughed softly, making him grin.

“Ma ma ma ma.”

Harry grinned as the baby started to talk. You looked back at her and cheerfully gasped as you saw her looking your way. She had moved onto her hands and knees, gently rocking back and forth. She is still tackling the challenge of crawling, but she was getting much better. Sometimes she was scared, but she tried so hard.

“Look, Dada! We’re on the move.”

“C’mere, baby doll.” Harry said with a smile, excited to see her pick her hand up and move forward, one movement at time.

She looked down at the floor, moving her other hand along with her knee. She seemed interested in trying to crawl towards the couch, but she also appeared to be a little hesitant.

“You’re doing so well, my baby.” Harry said, grabbing her attention.

She looked up and gave him a big smile, squealing to herself as she started crawling a little faster. You got off Harry’s lap and squatted down on the floor, holding your hands out to her.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl!”

Harry couldn’t stop smiling as he watched her crawl the distance to you. She had her target, and it was you. She had the biggest grin on her face as she finally reached you, grabbing your thighs to push herself up. You picked her up and smushed a kiss to her cheek.

“Good job, darling!”

Harry gave her a happy smile as you sat down on the couch, placing her on your lap facing him.

“Dada loves you, baby girl. You’re the smartest girl in the whole world, yeah?”

She squealed and immediately leaned forward, reaching for him. He took her in his hands and stood her up on his lap. She began bouncing, her knees moving quickly as she started babbling, her fingers stuck in her mouth.

“Aw, poor thing.” He sighed as he saw how red her knees were from the crawling. “Should’ve put some pants on you.”

“She’ll be okay, Dada.” You reached over to rub your fingertips against her knees, making sure there were rashes forming or scratches on her skin. “Just a bit red.”

“Ma ma ma ma ma.”

Harry smiled. “Da da da da.”

She made a little squeak again, bouncing faster as she pulled her hand from her mouth, it was covered in drool.

“Da da da da.” He repeated, trying to encourage her.

“Ma ma ma.” She replied, reaching for Harry. “Babababa.”

“Yeah, you’re talking up a storm, sweet girl.” He said with a smile as he brought her to his chest, letting her grab his shoulder and fist her hand in his shirt. “Want loves, baby girl?”

She rested her forehead against his cheek, her wet hand grabbing his face. You laughed to yourself as he made a face at the drool being smeared on him.

“Who’s this, lovey? Is this Dada.” You said, tapping her arm to get her attention. She picked her head up and looked at you. “Is this your Dada?”

She looked back at Harry, grinning as big as she could. But she still didn’t give in to your efforts.

It had been half an hour since Mitch came back from his break and they started working again. You were sitting on the couch, somewhat occupied with a game on your phone while keeping an eye on the baby. She was laying in the floor, kicking her legs up in the air and playing with her own fingers. She had a couple of toys around her but she wasn’t interested. Harry hadn’t started singing yet, they were messing with some instruments and experimenting with sound.

But the second he started to sing, just practicing how the lyrics would sound, the baby snapped her eyes towards the room. You watched her roll over onto her belly and push herself up. You smiled as she froze, eyes staring at the doorway. Harry suddenly sang the word baby, which made her perk up even more. He stopped for a second, then re-sung the word. You chuckled softly as she started crawling towards the open door. He was trying out different notes, trying to determine which was the best. He started back over from the beginning when he found what he liked.

Watching the baby go straight towards him made your heart melt. She passed the doorframe, crawling as quick as she could. Harry suddenly stopped singing and you heard him laughing.

“Hi, baby girl.” He scooped her off the ground and cradled her like a newborn, making her grin and giggle at him. “Crashing our session, hm? You’re the cutest.”

“Maybe she can give us some backing vocals.” Mitch said, making Harry laugh.

“She’s better than you, eh?”

Despite knowing Harry adores the baby, you got up from the couch to go and get her. He needed to finish this stuff tonight, and she would only prolong the process. When you walked in, Harry gave you a smile and quickly kissed her forehead.

“Gotta sit with Mama for a bit, okay? Dada will come get you soon, baby.” He told her, kissing her cheek before handing her to you.

She whined, turning her head back to Harry, hands reaching out for him. You sighed, knowing this would probably lead to a breakdown.

“C’mon, sugar plum. We’ll go watch something on Mama’s phone.”

The second she realized Harry wasn’t going to get her, she started tearing up. Harry frowned, closing the small space you shared. He rested his hand on her back, his lips against her temple.

“Don’t be sad, my darling. Dada’s going to be done soon. I love you bunches, my little angel.”

You felt your heart drop as she started to cry, trying her best to fight your hold. Harry gave you an apologetic look and kissed her cheek again, making sure she felt his attention and affection.

“I’ll shut the door.” He mumbled to you.

“She’s probably hungry.. I’ll feed her.”

“Bottle or nurse her?”

You glanced at Mitch. “Bottle I guess.”

He sighed. “She gets sleepier when you nurse her.. I’ve got a blanket in there you can cover with.”

You gave him a nod. “Okay, love you. Don’t worry about her.”

“Love you, too.” He quickly kissed your lips and moved back to the baby, rubbing her back for a moment. “Be good for Mama.”

She was not happy about being taken out of the room, but you had to do it. You shut the door and let out a heavy sigh. At home, she usually doesn’t get like this. That’s probably because Harry is always around, and she’s never denied of him. This is partially why you didn’t want to come with him tonight.

You grabbed the blanket off the chair in the corner and went to the couch. You had her bag beside you as she sat in your lap, tears still streaming down her cheeks. You took out her favorite blanket and a burping cloth to put over your shoulder. Thankfully, you knew Mitch would be respectful when it came to you breastfeeding. He always asks Harry if you’re covered before he walks in a room or near you if you’re nursing. So, even though you had the blanket you figured you wouldn’t need it.

You sat the baby down on the floor to quickly unclasp your bra and slide it down. You laid it in her diaper bag and rolled up your shirt, making sure only one breast was exposed. You picked her back up and adjusted her so she could latch. Even though she was fussy, she was hungry and wanted to nurse. You exhaled as you relaxed against the arm of the couch, so glad she was easily satisfied. After about ten minutes, your phone buzzed beside you.

from Harry: how’s she doing?

to Harry: She’s better. she’ll be asleep soon

from Harry: good, I’ll be done in a little bit xx

You didn’t reply, instead you moved the baby to your other breast, knowing she needed to take a quick break. She whined, but latched on again. You nurses her until she had gotten enough. She was then laying in your arms, eyes slowly fluttering open to fight her sleep. This went on for a few minutes.

Everything was going smoothly, until Harry began to sing again. This got her attention right away. She was so close to being asleep, but of course something had to ruin that. You sighed as she wiggled around in your arms, trying to sit up. You placed her on your lap, facing the doorway. She was reaching out towards the door, knowing to person she wanted right now was in there. You rubbed her belly, trying to calm her as she whined.

“Daddy’s working, baby. You can’t be in there messing with him right now, sugarplum.” You pressed a kiss to her head, but she didn’t care.

She was not used to being deprived of him for so long, and having him pop in for only a few minutes at a time was torture to her. You shook your head in disbelief as she started to cry, tears flooding down her face as if she’d hurt herself bad. It was going to be difficult to get her to stop - especially without Harry’s assistance.

“Sweetie, please, calm down. Dada’s going to be out in a little while, then you can have him all to yourself.” Your words were not convincing in any way.

Before you could even take a break, she started to scream. It appeared like she was truly hurting or in immense distress, but you just couldn’t believe it. She’s never acted this way before. You started bouncing your thigh, hoping to soothe her but it didn’t work at all. You were worried that Harry would be upset if he got disturbed again, because he needed to finish this stuff tonight. He had no time to waste anymore.

Just as you were about to turn her around and hold her against your chest, the door opened and Harry rushed over to you, his brows dropped low and a worried expression over his face.

“What happened! Is she okay!” He said frantically, grabbing her from your lap without a second of hesitation.

You watched in disbelief as he pressed her against his chest, her head on his shoulder and started to sway from side to side, his big hand rubbing circles in her back. She was crying, but no longer screaming her lungs out.

“Did she fall? Did-did something happen?” He asked you, afraid to know the answer.

You sighed softly. “No, she just started.. screaming.”

“What?” He looked confused. He leaned his head to get a better look at her. Her face was red and her eyes were strained from the tears. “Baby girl, what’s the matter?”

The second she heard that word she perked up. Her head came up and she turned towards him, hands grabbing onto his neck and ear, wanting to keep him there forever. He frowned as he realized what was happening. He sat down beside you, sighing heavily. The baby was still against his chest, fingers digging into his skin.

“She heard you.. and went.. wild.” You said, patting his thigh.

He shook his head. “What’s gotten into her? She’s.. she’s not usually like this.”

“I guess she just misses her Daddy.”

Harry pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve been with her all afternoon. Maybe she’s in the clingy stage.. don’t they get one of those?”

You smiled, slipping your arm around his shoulders as you moved to sit on your legs. “She’s always going to be clingy, honey. I think she really just misses you. She was fine while she nursed.. was almost asleep.”

He pushed out a deep breath and looked at her cute face, always so in awe of the little human he made with you. His heart sparked as she gave him a pout of her lips, whining softly as she leaned her forehead against his cheek.

“My sweet girl.. y’know Dada has to work. If you be good for a little bitty bit longer, I promise I’ll cuddle you for hours tonight.”

His words did not matter to her. She let out a gentle grunt and fisted her hand in his shirt, holding on as if she knew he was about to leave her again.

“Honey, I dunno if she’ll be able to manage being away from you right now.” You admitted with a slight frown. “Do you have to finish the stuff tonight?”

“Yeah.. I’m on a tight schedule and today was the last day to work on this stuff.”

Harry’s eyes found yours for a moment and you gave him a smile, wishing you could fix it or make things easier. He lifted the corner of his mouth, not wanting to move from his seat at all.

“Do you think she’ll be good if she’s with you?” You ask in a soft voice, your thumb rubbing over the fabric of his pants.

He shifted his eyes back to her. She was sitting up now, hands messing with each other but she stared at Harry’s face, waiting for his attention.

“M’sure she would.” He said. “Do you care if I take her?”

You chuckled. “Not at all, babe.”

He took a deep breath and stood from the couch, securing his hold on the baby before moving.

“Well, I guess you can stay with me for a bit, bug.” He smiled, kissing her cheek a few times as he walked towards the door. “Dada’s almost done.”

“Ma ma ma.”

You smiled to yourself as you heard her. Harry sighed and gave her a laugh. He squatted down to grab the rubber duck from the floor so she can occupy her attention.

“Always Mama, hm?”

She took the duck from his hand and started gently hitting it against his neck. He grunted, trying to resist a smile but he just couldn’t. Everything she did amused and amazed him.

When he shut the door, you were unsure of what to expect. Usually, she’s a good baby and she doesn’t cause much chaos. This evening wasn’t too out of the ordinary. She loves Harry’s attention, so it didn’t surprise you that she was behaving that way. You hoped she’ll be good for him so he can finish quickly and you can go home.

“Our backup singer has returned.” Mitch said with a smile as he opened the notebook he had been holding and returned to the page of song lyrics. “Did she get hurt?”

“No, she’s just being a bit fussy.” Harry said just as she reached for his hair, tangling her fingers in it. “Maybe she’ll be good. No promises.”

Mitch was strumming a few chords on his guitar as Harry read over the spot they stopped on. He had jotted a few things down that he wanted to review before giving the verse another go. There was no serious recording going on, just messing around with lyrics and notes.

Things went well for about five whole minutes. The baby had been holding his hair in one hand and the duck in the other, her eyes peering down at the paper Harry was skimming his fingertip over. She wasn’t keen on the fact his hand wasn’t touching her. She whined a little, releasing his hair so she could grab his mouth. He smiled, shaking his head lightly as he tried to read. If he were at home, he would have no issue with this. But right now, he was trying to work.

“Honeybun, don’t pull Dada’s lip, yeah? Be sweet, please.” He said as he carefully grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm down.

When she whined louder than before, he looked at her to make sure she was okay. She seemed angry, her brows were dropped and her mouth was in a frown. He pressed a few kisses to her forehead.

“I thought you told Mama you’d be good, hm?”

Just as he was about to reward her with another peck, she began waving the duck in the air so hard that when she dropped it, it practically flew onto the floor. Harry gave her a concerned look.

“Angel, please, don’t throw him, yeah? Might hurt him.”

A whine left her mouth as he picked it up from the floor. He offered her the duck, but she slapped at his hand and turned her head away.

“Lovey, what’s the matter?” He mumbled to her, turning away from Mitch.

He looked over her face, trying to read her expression but she just seemed frustrated and bothered. There wasn’t any other obvious things going on.

“My precious baby.” He sighed softly. Her eyes moved to find his, tears swelling in them. “I wish you could tell Dada what’s going on.”

Her bottom lip rolled out as tears slipped down her cheeks. She wasn’t loud, though, not a sound coming from her. She just stared at him, eyes watered over and her lip shaking.

“Something’s wrong, innit?” He said in light voice, reaching up to wipe this thumb over her red cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby. I dunno what to do.”

Her head fell onto his shoulder, arms tucked by her sides. He held his hand against her back, and without saying a word, left the room once again. Your head lifted as you heard the door open. Your brows dropped the instant you saw them.

“What’s the matter?”

Harry looked defeated and somewhat afraid. “I.. I don’t know. I think something’s wrong..”

(a/n: I didn’t want this to be too long so I ended it here, do you want a part 3?)

[taglist: @theroosterswife24 @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harrystylesrealwifeong @fangirl125reader @luvonstyles]

#harry styles #harry #harry styles blurbs #harry styles stuff #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles smut #dad harry styles #dadrry #daddy!harry #harry styles fluff #harry fluff

799 notes · View notes

veronicaphoenix · 11 days

Text

Chapter summary: It's been fourteen years since Lia and Noah kissed for the first time. Maybe it's time to revive the scene.

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: best friends to lovers, implied ptsd, mentions of nightmares, therapy, Lia is on medication, some angst, alcohol consumption, but mostly fluff and comfort. There are also sexual innuendos and mentions of spankings. | Word count: 6.1k | Cross posted on AO3 | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

“I’m asking you again, want to find out if we’re still sloppy kissers?”

A few days slipped by in a blur of quiet mornings and bustling afternoons, each one blending seamlessly into the next. Lia and I seemed to settle into a comfortable rhythm, our daily lives intertwining effortlessly within the walls of my house.

Lia had made a few trips to her apartment, mostly to check on it, get some clothes, and make sure her plants were still alive after weeks of negligence from her part. She didn’t even mention once going back to her house, and I didn’t press on the subject. I was happy to have her back under the same roof, even if I had been delegated to the pull-out sofa on the studio.

She had also started to take medication after her third therapy appointment.

She still could not sleep well at night. She would fall asleep for a couple of hours and wake up covered in sweat because of a nightmare. Sometimes they didn’t even have to do with Mitch. It was her mother who would appear and remind her that what had happened to her was well deserved. Lia, for her part, was going through some very angry days. She didn’t like her therapist because she provoked her to talk about the issues that had hurt her the most during her life, and although when she came back from the session she would rant against her, I could tell that even if it wasn’t much, the sessions were helping her. I didn’t like that she had to medicate, but for my part I didn’t know what else to do.

Saturday morning, Lia woke up alone in bed.

The night before, she had asked me to sleep with her again. Apparently, she had mentioned to her therapist that having me in bed soothed her and kept her from having nightmares, but her therapist had told her that wasn’t a good idea. Lia didn’t give a crap, and I didn’t like that advice either, but I did understand why the therapist had mentioned it.

Lia didn’t appear in the kitchen until ten in the morning, with her hair tied up in a bun and the shirt I had left her days ago, which she had already gotten used to wearing. My heart warmed as I watched her approach me with a sweet smile and still sleepy eyes. She stood by my side, glanced at what I was preparing, and even though she knew, she asked me what I was cooking. That seemed to have become our routine in recent days, with the ticking of the clock on the wall in the background and the intermittent sound of a car passing by outside.

I replied that I was making oatmeal with banana and blueberries, to which she responded with a murmur of satisfaction. I asked her if she had slept well, to which she nodded, raising her gaze to assure me she wasn’t lying. I nodded back, and my lips brushed against her hair. I gave her a kiss on the head and focused again on the two bowls of oatmeal in front of me while she went to the coffee machine and glanced to see if I had already had a cup.

After breakfast, we washed and dried the dishes together, and while I returned to the studio to work on the song I had left unfinished the night before, Lia locked herself in my room again and went into the ensuite bathroom to take a shower, change her clothes, and then organize the room, which was in a disarray with some of her clothes and my clothes laying everywhere.

Although she had spent part of the night with her back to me, my presence on the other side of the bed had comforted her, and although it was hard for me to admit it, it had made me feel better to spend the night sharing the same warmth, even though we didn’t touch.

Mid-morning, she was quietly scribbling song lyrics in her notebooks, seated comfortably in the furthest corner of the living room sofa.

Jesse and Jolly were back at home, and she loved having them around, spoiling her too because who wouldn’t want to. We all adored Lia; she had always been like the baby in the family. And after what happened, everyone seemed to be concerned about her, something that, even though she appreciated, sometimes it bothered her. Last night, in the dark of my room, while we lay facing each other, she had confessed that she preferred the house as it was when it was just me and her. She admitted that it was selfish of her to say that —considering this wasn’t her house and that all Jesse and Jolly had done was take care of her—, but she knew she could be honest with me, for the good and for the bad, and I told her that I totally understood. I kept to myself the truth; that I agreed with her preferences, and that as soon as Jolly and Jesse were back, I did miss the quietness and the routine that she and I had.

After she fell asleep, I thought about that a lot, about wanting to be with her alone. Not just one day, but a week, a month perhaps. Or even get her to move back in with me. Was it normal for me to think that? We were not teenagers anymore. We were adults. This desire to share the personal and intimacy of a house just with her triggered some scenarios in my head that I had to force myself to remove. They weren’t right.

I stared at her profile for a while, the only light in the bedroom coming from the string of warm led light in the wall. She was nearly totally cocooned under the covers, but I could see half her face, a single strand falling over her eyes. I was tempted to extend my arm and brush the hair away, but I stopped myself.

I had to stop myself before this got out of hand.

When I stepped into the living room that day, right before the four of us in the house immersed ourselves in the kitchen to prepare lunch, I found Lia and Jolly engaged in a quiet topic on the sofa. Jolly had his phone out, sharing something with her, and she was laughing.

“The guys will be over after five,” I told them. “Bryan mentioned he’s taking charge of the pizzas.”

“He’s always taking charge of the pizzas,” Jolly said, recalling how every time he offered to get pizza, he got in a frenzy and ordered ten of them, at least, and not even Steven’s voracious appetite could manage with so much food.

“I texted Emery,” Lia added, “invited her to join us if she’s free this afternoon.”

I noticed Jolly lowering his head, a subtle flush creeping onto his cheeks as he attempted to conceal his smile behind his phone.

I frowned. Lia discretely gestured toward Jolly, forming a heart with her fingers and silently mouthing Emery’s name my way. I grinned, and understanding, I said, “Sure. She can stay the night if she wants to, too.”

My words prompted Jolly to glance up.

“And where do you plan on making her sleep?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, busying myself retrieving items from the fridge.

“With you. Any objections?”

My teasing wasn’t only aimed at embarrassing Jolly or coaxing out his recent feelings for Lia’s friend; it was also about the giggles I was eliciting from Lia.

“Of course!” He retorted, pretending to be greatly offended. “What about the pull-out sofa in the studio? You and Lia are practically roomies, anyway.”

Ignoring his quip about Lia and me, I countered, “Oh, so you’re okay with her staying the night, then?”

“Yeah!” he admitted with a casual shrug, “no biggie. Why would I mind? But she can sleep on the studio sofa just fine. You two keep sharing the bed, seems like you’re quite cozy,” he remarke, making Lia raise her eyebrows. “He hasn’t been as fussy as he usually is since he started sleeping on his bed again,” Jolly told her.

“The pull-out sofa must’ve been uncomfortable,” Lia replied, dismissing the topic.

The truth was that it had been years since Lia and I had shared a bed. I couldn’t even remember when the last time had been. Maybe on one of the first tours, when we didn’t have enough money to afford rooms for all of us, or maybe at someone’s house during a party where we started to get really tired and ended up lying in someone’s parents’ bed with Nick in one corner and someone else prostrate in an uncomfortable way with half a body off the mattress.

So, sleeping together again felt really nice. And yeah, my bed was definitely way more comfortable than the thin mattress on the pull-out sofa.

Something crossed Lia’s eyes when we looked at each other, but it faded right away when I put on my best expression and diverted the topic to ask her if she would like a beer before lunch, to which she nodded, Jolly asking for one for himself, too.

By six o’clock, the house was buzzing with energy, voices, music. It was no surprise that something that started as a casual plan of inviting a couple of friends overturned into some kind of last-minute unorganized party.

We were about ten people by the time Bryan arrived, carrying a mountain of pizza boxes. Nicholas and Lia helped him taking a few boxes each and placed them in the kitchen isle before Jesse and I made some space in the coffee table in front of the TV to set down the food and drinks. Eventually, we had to bring another small table from the studio because there wasn’t space enough.

By ten p.m., the bin overflowed with empty Coke and beer cans, while discarded pizza boxes formed a haphazard stack near the entrance.

A movie played on the TV, its sound merely background noise as nobody paid it any mind. I found myself constantly checking in on Lia, observing her apparent absorption in the chatter with the girls. Initially, her demeanor remained neutral, joyful even, but gradually, a shadow of melancholy crept over her features. Abruptly, she blinked, hastily brushing away a tear, and summoned a forced smile before taking a sip of her beer.

As inevitable as it was Matt and I locked ourselves in the studio for a while later on, after eating a few slices of pizza. While I was showing him the progress on a new song, he spotted the open notebook where Lia had been scrabbling lyrics and read them consciously.

“It’s fucking incredible.”

“What?” I asked, turning in the chair to see him still reading through.

“The fact that she’s able to come up with these lyrics while dealing with so much bullshit. They’re actually pretty optimistic,” he shook the notebook in the air for emphasis.

“Yeah, it’s her way of coping, I guess,” I mentioned, not really wanting to delve too much into it. “She’s pretty focused on the task when she’s writing, but she’ll break down in the afternoon and spend an hour crying.”

Matt seemed deeply concerned. We remained in silence for a while, until he slapped the notebook in his palm and decided he had to let Lia know how good her lyrics were. I followed him out after a couple of minutes more spent on the computer.

Laughter and lively conversation filled the living room, with everyone nestled on the couch, sprawled on the soft carpet, or perched on available spots. Amidst the sea of soda cans and scattered alcohol bottles on the table, an empty glass bottle lay askew.

“Sit your ass down, Noah. We’re playing truth or dare,” Bryan announced, slapping the sofa cushion next to him. Steven, already in fits of laughter over a shared joke with Folio, occupied the spot on his other side.

Alana sat on the carpet, Josh by her side, clutching a deck of cards in her hands.

With so many bodies crammed into the room, it suddenly felt snug. Jolly was seated on the floor alongside Lia and Nicholas, engaged in conversation, though his attention seemed more inclined toward Emery, whom he couldn’t resist stealing glances at, reciprocated or not.

I noticed the assortment of cups, bottles, and cans scattered about, realizing that my beer had vanished, either drank by someone by mistake or perhaps intentionally. I was contemplating retrieving another from the kitchen when Steven sent the empty bottle on the table spinning, and Bryan’s command to sit the fuck down halted my intentions.

The bottle’s neck came to a stop pointing at Nicholas, eliciting giggles and anticipatory squeals from the group. Jolly, seated beside him, grabbed a card from the deck Alana had left on the table.

“Alright, Nicky, spill. What was your last dream about?” Jolly prodded.

“Oh, damn it. I don’t remember,” Nicholas admitted with genuine frustration.

“Dude, if you don’t remember it’s automatically a dare.”

“Let me think,” he insisted to Folio, lifting his eyes to the ceiling and rubbing his chin with two fingers.

It happened to be some boring story about his sister and grandmother in a store.

The next question was directed to Steven, who never had a problem sharing whatever truth was asked from him and always ended up making fun of everybody else when they had to do a dare. However, when the bottle pointed to Lia, Matt, after picking up a card from the deck and reading it to himself, opted for withdrawing another. Whatever the question was, he considered it wasn’t appropriate to ask her.

“This is a good one,” he muttered then. “Gremlin, who do you personally think is the Beyoncé of the group?”

“That’s an obvious one,” she said, and wasted no time in pointing her finger directly at me.

“What? No way!” I protested, feigning offence.

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Jolly said, tossing a popcorn my way. “Of course you are.”

“We all know you have some recording on the computer of you singing Single Ladies. When are you going to play it for us?” Steven added, eliciting groans and laughter from the group.

Rolling my eyes, I nudged the bottle along, guiding it to land on Alana. Thankfully, Steven became engrossed in picking a card and posing a question to her, quitting his ramblings about me having that file stored in my computer.

“Guys, brace yourselves. This question is so appropriate for you,” he announced to Alana and Josh with a mischievous grin. “What are you most looking forward to about married life?”

“Whoa,” the question caught Alana and Josh off guard. They didn’t have any plans of getting married —that we knew of—, but they had been the most solid couple in our circle since they started dating. “Uh, I don’t know,” she stammered, flushing a little and looking indecisively at Josh for assistance. “Umm, maybe waking up together?”

My eyes fell on Lia. She was sipping on the bottle of beer, her chin raised. She noticed I was looking at her and smiled at me with her lips still pressed to the bottle. I couldn’t tell if she was thinking the same as me, but I couldn’t wait for the night to be over so that I could wake up next to her again as soon as the sun rose the next morning.

I must have lost track of time while in my own thoughts. The next questions that filtered through my ears was, “what’s your weirdest kink?” and suddenly, Jolly was all flushed, denying he had any kinks, probably because he thought that Emery would feel put off by his likings or something. I was taken aback then when Lia was the one to encourage him to speak, lively saying, “Spill the beans, come on! Girls love it when guys have kinks. What is it? We’re all curious!”

“Lia, please,” he hissed, but he was actually amused at her insistence, knowing that if he was being so overly optimistic about it, it was because she knew Emery would want to know about him and his… kinks.

“Well, all right… Um, nothing too crazy, just… I might have a mild fascination with high heels.”

When everybody started making a fuss about it, laughing and making fun of him, he defended himself, making sure to say out loud that a kink as such was nothing compared to mine. He immediately went to retrieve the book I’d been reading to Lia, The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage, from under the coffee table, but unfortunately for him, I had moved it to my bedroom, so he had nothing to incriminate me with, and when I crossed looks with Lia again, she just gave me a complicit smile that made my skin prickle.

Trying to stop the thoughts racing in my mind, I reclined on the couch, stretching my arms above my head, oblivious to the impending question directed my way. Before I could collect myself, Bryan read the card.

“The name of the person who gave you your first kiss.”

As he uttered the question, it felt as if the world had hushed around me, though in reality, the chatter continued. My focus shifted to Lia again. Her expression had softened, as if she had also been transported back to that summer on the lake deck, where our lips had first met and we experienced our first kiss, as we taught each other the delicacies of sweet pecks and wet touches.

“Dude, you gonna answer or what?” Bryan prompted, patting my arm.

I didn’t know for how long I had been staring at Lia.

“Hold on a sec,” Jolly interjected, his gaze darting between Lia and me, piecing together the puzzle. “No way. Seriously?! I knew it!”

“What did you know?” Nicholas asked, confused.

Lia had lowered her head, back to reality, cheeks flushed but memories vivid.

“Lia was your first kiss,” Jolly declared, as if he had just cracked open a mystery that’d been hiding in plain sight for ages.

“Oh,” Nicholas murmured, looking between us. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Me neither,” Jolly agreed, sparking a discussion among the others, while Lia and I sat in silence. “But I should’ve known. I mean, was that a secret of yours? You’ve never mentioned it!”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Lia replied softly.

“How old were you guys?” Josh interjected, adding to the chaos with seemingly genuine curiosity.

“What does it matter?” I deflected, uninterested. I didn’t want them to turn the news into a joke.

“Was he your first kiss, too?” Matt asked Lia.

She nodded in affirmation.

“Ah! So, was he also your first…? You know…” His inquiry trailed off, and Lia’s discomfort was palpable.

I wanted to take her out of the uncomfortable situation, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to say; my words failed me, and so we were both left to endure the intrusive questions for a few more moments until the bottle spun again, mercifully shifting the focus elsewhere.

As the night wore on and the intensity of the game began to wane, Bryan got up to grab more beer from the kitchen and get some junk food. Lia seized the chance to slip away into the garden, counting on the distraction of the others’ chatter and laughter to cover her escape.

But I noticed.

Giving her a few minutes of solitude under the moonlit sky, I eventually followed her outside, closing the doors behind me with a soft click. My footsteps made little sound against the damp grass as I approached her.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked when I found her crouched beside a cluster of flowers she had planted days earlier.

Lia glanced up, her features lighting up at the sight of me.

“Of course not,” she replied, standing up, “I was just checking on them.”

And I’m checking on you.

“Can you even see in this darkness?” I questioned, squinting my eyes at the black landscape in front of me.

“Not really,” she admitted with a giggle.

“Don’t you want to head back inside? It’s chilly out here.”

“I needed some fresh air,” she admitted, her gaze getting lost somewhere. “Was feeling a bit dizzy and slightly drunk.” She attempted a smile, but it fell flat, and I struggled to muster a response.

The memory of our kiss had not only brought back echoes of our days alone at the lake. They had also dredged up memories of Lia’s troubled childhood, her struggles at school, and her mother’s harsh treatment. It had been these moments that had often driven Lia to seek some peace by the lake, where she would lose herself in the water or wander the surrounding paths, studying the plants and flowers growing in the periphery. The lake had been the place where I had seen her turn from a girl into a woman, where I had told her she was beautiful, where we had kissed for the first.

And last time.

“I understand,” I said.

Silence stretched between us before I sighed, lowering my head slightly. “I’ll head back inside,” I decided, giving her the space she seemed to need. “Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

Lia nodded, a tiny smile on her lips.

I was just two steps away from the door when Lia called my name again, as if she had forgotten to say something.

I turned my head with a flicker of hope in my eyes and a strange flutter in my stomach, but after holding her gaze for a moment, she shook her head and turned her back to me.

By past eleven, most of our friends had left, living behind a cluttered living room and kitchen. Empty cans, bottles, and pizza boxes littered the space, while cushions blankets and forgotten hoodies lay strewn about.

I noticed Lia assisting Jesse when she nearly lost her balance.

Acting quickly, I reached out and steadied her by grabbing her arm.

“Slightly drunk, aren’t we?”

“I’m not that drunk, I promise. My head is just spinning,” she explained with a hint of tiredness in her voice.

“Why don’t you call it a night? Go get some rest. I’ll finish here,” I suggested.

Jesse agreed with me, and eventually, Lia did, too. With a nod and a sweep of her hair from her face, she left me and Jesse to tackle the aftermath of the night. I spotted Jolly in the garden, leaning on the railing with Emery very close to him. I chuckled as I bent down to pick up someone’s sweater and send it to the pile of forgotten clothes, which seemed to be a usual occurrence whenever so many friends came over.

Fifteen minutes later, when I checked my room expecting to find Lia nestled under the covers, I didn’t find her there.

Instead, I discovered her in the studio, seated cross-legged on the sofa with headphones on, wide awake despite the weariness in her eyes.

“I thought you went to bed.”

“I tried for a few minutes, but I couldn’t sleep”, she explained, removing the headphones and placing them on a nearby table as I joined her on the sofa. “And it was cold in your room, so I decided to come here and listen to some music, instead.”

“Hm. What were you listening to?” I inquired, peering at her phone screen.

She turned her iPhone to me. Hysteria, Def Leppard.

“That’s a fucking good song.”

“Yeah,” She replied, but I noticed her interest fading as if my presence had triggered memories.

“Hey,” I said gently, reaching out to touch her head, “still thinking about that?” I didn’t need to specify what it was. She knew what I was referring to.

“Yeah, it’s just… I hadn’t thought about those days in a while, and it all just came rushing back.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Mostly bad,” she confessed.

My heart clenched at the notion of her associating our kiss with negativity.

“Not the kiss, though,” she was quick to reply, nudging my arm with her shoulder, as if she could sense my distress. “That was nice. It was a good day.”

I still remembered how she looked after I pulled away from here, her lips wet from my saliva.

“You never got to kiss Adrienne, did you?” she asked.

“No. No, I didn’t. Ended up catching a cold from staying in the lake too long and missed out on that ball thing,” I recounted.

“I’m sorry,” Lia murmured.

“For what?” I questioned.

“For, you know, keeping you out in the lake for hours after we kissed. I should have been more concerned. The reason we did it was so that you could practice for the ball, and then, you fell sick…” she trailed off, guilt evident in her voice.

“You don’t need to apologize for that. I would have stayed with you in the lake no matter what. Besides, that was a pretty good first experience. We weren’t too bad, were we?” I teased.

Lia seemed to drift back to the moment our lips had met.

“No, we weren’t” she agreed, her cheeks flushed with a light color. She looked adorable, all shy and sleepy, and slightly drunk.

“Want to try again? See if we’ve still got it?”

“What?” She snorted incredulously. “Still got what?! I was thirteen. You were fourteen. We had no clue what we were doing.”

“And yet, it was amazing.”

“I wouldn’t call it amazing,” she demurred.

“Oh? You’re saying I’m a bad kisser?”

“No, I mean… It was kinda sloppy, wasn’t it?” she said with a little laugh and a furrowed brow. She was fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“I’m asking you again, want to find out if we’re still sloppy kissers?” I persisted, sensing a flicker of interest in her eyes.

“I’m not a sloppy kisser,” she said in her defense. The fact that she didn’t refuse the proposal I just threw out there for a second time gave me certain hope.

“Show me,” I said, my voice coming out more demanding than I intended to.

When she noticed my eyes had darkened, she hesitated. It was at that moment that she realized I was being serious.

I wanted to kiss her.

“Why do you want to kiss me?” She asked, cautiously studying me, her frow more pronounced.

I shrugged.

“It’s been fourteen years. I’m just curious to see how we’ve changed in all these years. Aren’t you curious about me?” I was pressing her, but I didn’t care.

“Yes,” she confessed, a heat rising to her cheeks.

“It’ll just be a kiss” I assured her. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Nothing more?”

“Nothing more. We made a promise, and we’ve done pretty damn well for fourteen years. We’re not going to break it now,” I affirmed. Was I sure about that? No, but when I looked at her lips, they looked too tempting for me to think about a promise we made more than a decade ago. I was an adult, nevertheless, and it was going to be just a kiss. I could keep it on that.

“Okay,” she agreed, her resolve firming as she shifted to face me on the sofa. She sat back on her heels, her hands resting on her knees, her big eyes gazing up at me, sweet and ready. Her posture and demeanor was almost too submissive, and I had to fight the urge to flee the room when I felt my cock twitch involuntarily. “How should we do it?”

I focused on her voice, on the voice of my best friend.

I straightened up and cleared my throat. Then, I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Do I have to teach you, Lia?”

“No,” she replied, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice as she squirmed in her spot. “It’s just…”

She wore the same expression she had that afternoon by the lake.

“I have a pretty clear idea how to do it now,” I asserted.

My hand found her cheek, and I made sure to caress her cheekbone with my thumb as I leaned in closer. I noticed her breath catch as I drew near, and I may have lingered with my breath against her lips for a fraction of a second longer, just to make her aware of the fact that I was about to kiss her, that I was going to inhale her scent, succumb to the warmth of her mouth, and adore her with my touch.

Then, I pressed my lips to hers.

It was meant to be just a kiss. Nothing more. A simple gesture to remember… and to satisfy that unfamiliar and dangerous longing that had been stirring within me in recent days.

A kiss; a small pressure against her lips.

But a kiss is never just a kiss, because it demands the closeness of two bodies, the touch, the warmth, the intertwining of breaths.

I pulled away a little, parting my lips slowly to savor every moment of contact, to ingrain freshly in my memory how well my lips molded to hers.

It was almost sinful, how daring I was, how selfish to want that from her. But surprise was mine when, before I opened my eyes, Lia rushed forward and captured my lips in another kiss. She forced my lips apart, urging me to remember every second of our first kiss on the deck.

This time, it was Lia taking the lead. The first kiss had awakened something that I didn’t even know had been slumbering inside me. Something in my stomach stirred. My hand, that initially had cradled her cheek, slid to the back of her head, and my fingers tangled in her hair. Almost instinctively, I stroked her scalp as she tilted her head, urging the kiss to deepen.

Her lips moved against mine with such fervor that for a moment, I questioned whether she was just slightly drunk and not just totally drunk. As our mouths melded together, I could taste the faint tang of alcohol on her lips, mingling with my own.

Despite the hint of beer, Lia’s taste was intoxicatingly sweet, a comforting warmth that enveloped me whole. Temptation urged me to explore further, to let my tongue sail into her mouth, crossing the tenderness of her lips, but I hesitated, aware that each gesture brough us closer to crossing a line neither of us wished to breach…

But we were kissing.

Lia’s hand found its way to my chest, and I could sense how her fingers fought against her mind, against a voice telling her to clutch the fabric. The intensity of our embrace seemed to be consuming her, and I could almost swallow the near inaudible sounds that were also trying to escape from her mouth as her breathing became ragged.

The innocence of our first kiss wasn’t there that night. We were no longer two inexperienced children curious to know what it felt like.

We already knew what it felt like. The curiosity we felt now was different. It was curiosity to know where this kiss would take us, to know how things would change, curiosity to find out if there was something buried inside us that we didn’t know was there or that we had ignored for years.

However, when we finally broke the kiss and Lia’s hands fell from my body and my hand released her hair, whatever revelation had come from that moment dissipated.

There was a moment of... hope that flickered in our eyes as we looked at each other, our bodies still close. A moment of recognition, of truth.... But we said nothing. None of what we felt.

“Better than the first time, huh?” I conceived after licking my lips, a gesture Lia observed with careful attention before blinking and pulling away, tucking some hair behind her pierced ear.

“Yes, sure,” she corroborated. “That was… nice.”

I dismissed the commotion growing inside of me with a chuckle. I rose from the sofa, thinking that if I stayed there I would pull her back into my arms. But before I did, I said, “You’re not a sloppy kisser,” and I touched her cheek affectionately with a finger. “Far from that.”

At that, she smiled up at me with her lips pressed together and her eyes sparkling with a hint of magic. She looked adorable, all flushed, feeling warm and intoxicated from the kiss.

If I could only know if she would look the same under me…

“Come on,” I suggested, ignoring the voice in my head. “Why don’t you help me set up the bed?”

“Of course,” she agreed, probably thankful for the distraction. And in the blink of an eye, everything felt normal again. “All those hours working out in the gym and lifting weights and still needs help to set up the bed,” she muttered under her breath, her tone colored by that hint of playful sass.

I paused, raising an eyebrow at her.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” she replied innocently, raising her hands before setting about removing the cushions from the couch.

“Are you being sassy with me?”

“Nope,” she denied.

But she was, her mischievous grin betraying her words.

“Lia Parker,” I warned, moving to intercept her as she attempted to evade me.

She let out a laugh and tried to move further away from me, seeing how I reached out for her. But I was taller and faster. She squirmed a bit, but I managed to get ahold of her. Our feet ended up tangling up, and we stumbled back onto the sofa, my body falling on top of hers.

“Don’t be sassy with me or you’ll earn yourself a good spanking.”

Her eyes widened, but she couldn’t hide her smile.

“Really?”

“Want to test me?” I joked, though the proximity between us sent a jolt of awareness through me.

It wasn’t my intention, either, but my crotch pressed against her thigh.

Neither of us moved, lost in the electric tension. We made no gesture that implied that we were very aware of our bodies being pressed that way together, her chest against mine, my legs pressing her hips down, her entire body being caged under mine.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “No, thanks.”

Her amusement was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with her. I would have stayed there like that with her for another ten minutes, but it was just a matter of time that it would become uncomfortable. Besides, her face was really close to mine again, and I didn’t think I could’ve stopped myself from kissing her once more if she kept looking at me with those big brown eyes and such adoration for me.

Reluctantly, I planted a loud kiss to her hair and pushed myself up onto my forearms to stand.

“Are you sure you want to sleep here?” She asked, struggling a bit to sit up, her breath hitched. Oh, how I relished in the state I put her in.

It took me a moment to reply, hoping that she would ask me to sleep with her one more night.

“Or are we forcing Jolly to offer Emery his room?” she continued.

Together, we set up the bed, our movement synchronized.

“Is she staying?” I asked.

“She really wants to,” Lia whispered, confiding in me Emery’s desires.

“Then Jolly’s going to have to make some room in his bed,” I concluded, making Lia grin. “Unless he mans-up and decides to take things further.”

“If he doesn’t, Emery might,” Lia said. She scratched her head as she looked around for the bedsheets. I pointed towards an Ikea cabined situated behind the door.

“Think we’ll have trouble sleeping?” I inquired, catching Lia’s eye as she tossed me one end of the fitted sheet.

Lia frowned, then shook her head, getting what I meant. “No, I don’t think so. Emery’s not like that,” she explained. “I mean, she does find Jolly pretty hot, but she’s not in a rush.”

“If ‘not in a rush’ turns into a midnight moaning party, I’m driving us to KFC,” I stated.

“You’re the one who suggested they share the room,” Lia reminded me with a laugh.

“Yeah, sleep, not fuck,” I replied, earning a chuckle from her. “But seriously, if I hear anything suspicious, I’d rather be eating chicken wings at 3am than being forced to listen to that. So, what do you say? 3 am chicken wings?”

“Oh, God,” she shook her head, finishing up the task of setting up the bed as she tossed some pillows back on top of the mattress. “Yes, sure. Wake me up if you hear anything suspicious. Take me with you to eat chicken wings at 3 a.m.”

“It’s a date, then,” I concluded, slinging an arm around her waist and planting a kiss on her hair before disappearing down the corridor.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic

29 notes · View notes

prettytoxicrevolver · 1 year

Text

Breathe | Mitch Marner

You and Mitch break up after you receive some news

warnings? angst. so so so much angst.

wc: 1.8k

Mitch was your soulmate.

All your life you knew Mitch was your soulmate, your twin flame, your person. From the moment you two met each other, you knew he was it for you. You were certain you were going to be together forever. Whether it be through friendship or a relationship, you knew the two of you could never be truly separated from each other.

Together you sat, a beach towel spread out underneath the two of you. Your head resting on his chest as his right arm wraps around you. You feel his left hand trail down your side until it reaches your free hand. Your hand lays flat on your stomach and Mitch rests his hand on top of yours, slotting his fingers into yours. His grip is soft. His thumb trailing soft touches on the side of your hand making you sigh in content.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers as your eyes glaze lazily over the stars above.

“Everything,” you begin. “Nothing.”

“That’s a lot. Wanna narrow it down?”

Truth be told, you have been off for a while now. Mitch couldn’t tell what it was but you hadn’t been telling him everything. That alone, was a criminal offense ever since the two of you were kids.

You had been struggling with simultaneous great news and bad news all week. Your mom hasn't been doing well, still in the hospital after a nasty fall. And yet, you just received the perfect job offer across the country. Your heart had felt like cheering and sobbing all at once.

“Just about mom, you, work,” you explain vaguely.

You feel Mitch’s eyes on you, his head moving just barely to look down at your relaxed state. You knew you’d have to tell him everything soon, but you were nervous. What did any of this mean for the two of you?

You sit up, cutting off any physical touch between you and Mitch at all. You run your hands through your hair before resting your elbows on your knees. You drop your face into your hands and let out a sigh, knowing you’re going to have to tell Mitch.

“What is it darling?” he asks, reaching up to rub your back slowly.

“My mom’s sick again,” you start and Mitch offers you a sympathetic look. “And I don’t know when she’ll be out of the hospital.”

“Oh baby,” Mitch says and you shake your head.

“But uh, I got a job though,” you push on and a light smile appears on Mitch’s face.

“Honey I’m so proud of you! And you haven’t even graduated yet!” he cheers, pulling you close and pressing kisses to your cheeks. He holds your face in his hands, looking at you with admiration you feel like you don’t deserve.

“It’s across the country.”

His face falls, his hands slipping from you and you shiver from the lack of heat his touch brings you. Your eyes search his, trying to gauge his reaction. For once, his baby blue eyes don’t tell you anything, they just look hurt.

“What are you going to do?” he asks carefully.

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Mitch stares quietly, before his head dips in a slow nod.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“But you can’t leave here,” you respond and you knew this is what you were afraid of.

For you and Mitch it was always all or nothing. Sometimes that was the issue. You both loved so deeply and have for so long that sometimes you were blind to things that needed to be let go or held onto.

“Talk more tomorrow?” he offers and you nod.

You had practically wracked your brain all night and all day before seeing Mitch again. You wanted to stay with him, make sure your mom was okay, find a job here. But the latter was your dream job, something you had been wanting since you were 16. How could you give it up?

You head over to Mitch’s for dinner, the two of you making small talk the entire time. Your news from the night before hanging over like an impending hurricane that neither of you really knew how bad was going to be. After dinner the two of you laid together on the couch, neither one of you wanting to start a conversation that you didn’t know how it was going to end.

Mitch taps your leg, making you look over at him. He leans over, pressing a long kiss to your lips. You relish in the feeling of his closeness, never wanting to let go but when you do, your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“What do you want to do?” He asks and you shake your head, eyes closing again.

“I don’t know. This job is all I’ve ever wanted. But so are you.”

“And your mom?” he asks.

“I want to stay, make sure she’s better. But I know my dad’s here to help and is in much better shape than she is.”

Mitch won’t meet your gaze, his eyes falling to your hands. He plays with your fingers running his touch over your hands causing you to shiver slightly at the contact.

“You have to go.”

You look up at him with shock, and Mitch still won’t meet your gaze. You pull your legs up underneath you, a stray tear falling down your cheek as you take a deep breath and weigh your next words.

“So you don’t want me to stay.”

“Of course I want you to stay,” he says, finally looking at you.

“Then tell me to,” you beg, taking his hands and pulling them to make him really look at you.

“I can’t do that. You’ve worked so hard for this job I can’t be the reason you give it up.”

“I wouldn’t give it up just for you,” you explain and Mitch shakes his head before standing up in front of you.

Mitch paces the room for a minute, thoughts racing through his head. He couldn’t leave you, but he couldn’t make you stay for selfish reasons. You were his whole world and without you he didn’t know what was left. The world was a dimmer place without you around.

He tried and tried and tried, he wanted to be supportive and tell you to go but it was eating him up inside. He wanted to be quiet, watch you drive off and mourn your relationship in silence and yet he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go that easily.

“I can’t let you give up this opportunity for me,” he repeats and now you stand up to face him.

“Mitch,” you say cautiously.

“I’m done,” he says, not meeting your eyes once more.

“What do you mean you’re done?” you ask tears welling up to betray you.

“I can’t be with you. Not when you have a life changing decision like this to make,” he declares, turning away from you.

It was like someone had taken the smallest dagger and pierced your heart, slowly dragging it down the center at every word he says. Your hurt quickly turns to anger, and sadness rushes in like a wave during a massive storm.

“That’s it?” you ask bitterness lacing your voice. “You’re not even going to fight for this. For us?” you practically yell. Mitch flinches at your tone and you cross your arms.

“I can’t do that to you!” he yells back.

“Who said you were?!”

You both stare each other down and it takes all of your willpower not to walk over and wipe away the tears making their way down his cheeks. Mitch never hid anything from you. Never any emotion, any thought, fear, anxiety, nothing. And now here you stood feeling oceans away from the boy who always felt right there with you.

“You have to go,” he whispers and the dagger in your heart has successfully ripped the organ in two.

You nod, as if you can’t even believe it’s Mitch speaking to you right now. You grab your things, heading out to your car and the sound of the door slamming behind you is so deafening it makes both of you flinch.

The minute you get into your car, sobs escape your lips and you know if you started crying now, you wouldn’t be able to stop. You place a shaky hand over your mouth, pulling out of the apartment complex as fast as possible and make your way home.

The minute you’re parked in your driveway, every emotion is let loose. Your heart falls and falls and falls until it’s on the bottom of your car tire, feeling like it got run over a million times. The sob you held back before finally makes its way out and you scream knowing Mitch and you were done.

Your tears flow freely, a mix of anger and sadness flowing with ease through your body that you aren’t sure how long it had been sitting there. You smack your steering wheel, banging the top of it with the palm of your hand wishing on anything above that this situation could have turned out differently.

When the tears subside enough for you to walk inside your house, it occurs to you how late it is. As you step into your room, your eyes gaze over to the clock sitting on your nightstand to read 2:05 a.m. Had you really stayed over Mitch’s that late?

You fall onto your bed, the thought of Mitch crippling you once more. You pull the covers over you and up to your chin, letting out a quiet sob into the fabric. It wasn’t that you had just lost a boyfriend, it felt like you lost your best friend. You knew that the end of you and Mitch, an end like this meant no communication. No chance to still be in each other's lives.

You pull yourself up, trying desperately to wipe away the tears that were never ending. You lost your boyfriend, your best friend, the only one you knew backwards and forwards and vice versa. How could this happen in the span of two days?

Mitch felt like he couldn’t breathe since the minute you walked out the door. His heart ached like you had taken it with you and drove it down the road the entire 20 minutes back to your house. His lungs felt like they had been ripped from his body and thrown into the garbage disposal, of no use when you weren’t around him.

He collapses to the couch, burying his face in his hands and letting out a frustrated scream. The scream dies, turning into quiet sobs that can’t be heard by anyone else. His heart shatters as each tear falls. He knew this was best for you, but how could he continue if he couldn’t breathe without you?

#mitch marner imagine #mitch marner x reader #Mitch marner x y/n #Mitch marner fanfic #maple leafs fanfic #hockey imagine

156 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 11 days

Note

Send me a made-up fic title and I'll tell you what I would write to go with it: We Were Never "Just Friends"

Tagging: @spaghettificationandpretzels@mini-bee-bee@thebejeweledwatercat @Icefyre19

When you tell the story of how you and Mitch got together you always say you started out of friends, that it transitioned into more but that it’s not true not really.

“We were never just friends though.” Mitch reminds you as you sway together to the music during the Open Mic night at Molly’s. “We were always more.”

“I did always think you were handsome.” You tease, your fingers running over the nape of his neck. “Very fuckable.”

A blush creeps up his cheeks, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile as he leans in close and whispers.

“Why don’t we head out a little early. Let me show you just how fuckable I am.”

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#mitch ripley #mitch ripley x reader #mitchell ripley #mitchell ripley x reader #one chicago #chicago med

24 notes · View notes

merrybloomwrites · 20 days

Text

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Mitch x Reader Cockwarming)

Summary: Y/N misses Mitch while he's away on tour and can't get close enough to him when he returns home. He comes up with a solution that leaves them both content.

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Getting High

First Earthquake

Word Count: 2K

CW: smut, cockwarming, p in v sex

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One thing you absolutely hate is goodbyes. Whether temporary or permanent, you despise having to separate from the people that you love.

It’s been a difficult few weeks for you. Mitch and Sarah left for tour almost a month and a half ago. Harry was with you for most of that time, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t missing the other two. You and Harry went to Mitch’s show in New York City, but the four of you weren’t able to get a minute alone. You couldn’t even spend quality time with them after the show since there were paps and fans tracking you and Harry.

The next day you flew back home to Ohio, Harry flew to London for a couple weeks to work, and Mitch and Sarah continued on to the next city.

It was even worse then, being completely alone in your big, empty apartment. The upside was that it was only a few days until the show nearby in Columbus and you’d be able to see Sarah and Mitch again.

But even at that show you weren’t able to spend too much time with them. This time Mitch’s family was there so the three of you had to be careful. They don’t fully know the extent of your relationship with Mitch and Sarah, and though you all plan to tell them someday, now doesn’t seem like a good time.

You are able to snuggle up next to Sarah for a little while since that’s something you two have always done. It feels nice to have her arm around you, to smell her familiar shampoo, and it settles you just enough to get through the end of the tour.

They finish the last couple of shows, and Sarah comes home to you. Unfortunately, Mitch has to go back to LA for a couple meetings, and your separation from him continues.

You spend a few days hanging out with Sarah before she leaves for a girl’s trip with some of her best friends. For two nights you’re alone again.

Finally, it’s the day Mitch is set to arrive home. You’re excited to finally see him and actually spend some quality time with him, but part of you feels anxious. You’re not entirely sure why, but you can’t shake this nervousness.

He arrives home as you’re cooking dinner, one of his favorite meals. You hear the door open but don’t greet him at the door like you normally would. He finds you standing at the stove, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing against your back and saying, “Hi baby.”

You turn your head, smiling and saying a quiet hello before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Mitch is taken aback by your less than warm welcome after so long apart, but then you say, “Sorry, I have to keep stirring this until it boils or else the sauce will congeal and burn and be totally gross.” It’s a valid explanation, but there’s something just a bit off about you at the moment.

“Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes,” you say.

“Can I help?” Mitch asks.

“No thanks, I’ve got it. Why don’t you shower? I know you normally like to after flights,” you suggest.

“Ok, sounds great. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turns and starts to walk out of the room, stopping when you call his name. “Yea?” He questions.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you say before shyly adding, “I missed you.”

His face softens and he replies, “I missed you too, so much.”

You smile at his response before jokingly saying, “Now go, wash off the germs.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“You’d better. Don’t want another minute without you.”

He steps closer, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before heading to the bathroom. While he takes a quick shower he assesses the way you’d greeted him and what might really be happening here. He hopes that maybe you really were just focused on not burning dinner. But Mitch knows you too well. He knows there’s something else there. Whatever it is, he knows he needs to fix it.

The food is ready by the time he’s dressed, and it smells delicious. The two of you sit down to eat, and though everything seems normal during the meal, Mitch isn’t convinced.

He suggests watching a movie and you agree. Before it begins you go to change into pajamas, seeing how Mitch is already comfy in his sweats. You wear an oversized T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, knowing that once you cuddle up to Mitch his body heat will keep you warm. You stop in the bathroom, deciding to do a quick nighttime routine so you won’t have to do it after the movie, but rather go straight to bed.

A few minutes later you’re ready and you join Mitch on the couch. He’s sitting on the corner of your L-shaped sofa, legs stretched in front of him. You waste no time, quickly sitting against him. Your head finds its home on his chest, where you can hear his heart, feel the rhythm of his breathing. His arm instinctively wraps around your shoulders, holding you close.

“This good?” He asks, referring to the romcom he’d pulled up on the TV.

“Yea, I like this one,” you reply, before tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

He presses play, but the movie doesn’t hold his attention. He’s purely focused on you, and your actions. You always love to cuddle, especially when you've been separated from your partners, but it’s like you’re trying to literally get under his skin. Mitch notices even the slightest movements as you continue to shift, never fully settling.

Halfway through the movie he feels your hand move to his shirt and grip the material tight. He can’t stand it anymore, he needs to know what’s going on in your head. So, he casually says, “You okay?”

“I’m good,” you quickly reply.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit, I dunno, upset maybe. I’m just not sure why.”

You’re quiet for a minute, unsure how to answer. Because he’s right, you are upset, but you’re not even fully sure what it’s about.

Finally, you reply, “I just really missed you.”

Mitch is quiet, hoping that you’ll explain a bit more.

After another moment you add, “It was just harder to be away from you than I’d expected. Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy for you and so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. But selfishly, I really missed you. And then I’d see all the pictures and videos of you hugging and talking to all those other girls.”

“And you were jealous of them? I promise, they’re just fans, baby. You and Sarah are the only girls for me.”

“I mean, I know that. And I know they weren’t coming on to you or anything. I was just jealous that they got to see you and hug you and I couldn’t. I wanted to be in your arms, and it like, physically hurt to not feel you for so long.”

“C’mere,” Mitch murmurs, pulling you so that you’re straddling his lap. He cups your face, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. “Those girls may have gotten a hug then, but you get me for life. Even if I’m gone for a while, I’ll always come back. And I’ll always hold you in my arms. Way tighter than I’d hug a fan.”

“I know,” you reply.

“But something’s still bothering you,” Mitch states, picking up on the way you continue to shift restlessly on his lap.

“I really don’t know what it is. I feel like I can’t physically get close enough to you. Like, I know you’re here, but part of me still doesn’t believe that,” you admit.

Mitch is quiet for a minute, thinking of what he can do to help you. He thinks for a minute and comes up with an idea. He’s not sure it will work, not sure if you’ll agree to it or not, but he has to try.

“You said you can’t get close enough?” he questions.

“Yea, it’s like I wish I could just merge us into one person,” you reply with a laugh.

“I mean, we kind of can,”

“Are you saying we could have sex?”

“Not exactly.”

You look at him for a second and say, “Explain.”

“Okay, you know how sometimes when we do have sex, you want me to stay inside for a bit after we finish?”

You blush and nod, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. You’re not sure why you like that so much, but it always makes you feel so safe and loved.

“Have you ever heard of cockwarming?” he asks, and you shake your head no.

“Basically, it’s that, but without the sex first. We just relax together but I’d be inside of you.” You take in his words and imagine doing what he described and a flush runs through your body. Mitch watches as your cheeks turn even pinker and your pupils dilate.

“Do you want to try?” he asks, needing to know exactly how you’re feeling.

“Yes, please, can we try that? How do we start?” Mitch smiles gently at your eagerness before leaning in to press a kiss against your mouth.

“Well first we have to warm up a little bit,” he says and leans back in for a deeper kiss. Your mouth moves with his, and you feel arousal building in your belly as wetness starts to seep into the boxers you’re wearing. Mitch moves his hands to your hips, and gently presses you lower so you can feel his length hardening beneath you.

He helps you maneuver out of your bottoms, and you shiver as the cold hair touches your sensitive center. Mitch then pulls himself out and wastes no time before running his tip along your folds.

“You sure baby?” He asks, checking once more for consent.

“I’m sure. I want you. I need you closer.”

At that he doesn’t hesitate. He gently slides inside of you, and you practically sob in relief. He fills you perfectly, feels so warm in you. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting slightly to get comfortable and his arms wrap around your lower back, holding you to him.

Finally, you settle. No more fidgeting or restless movement. You’re perfectly content, physically attached to the man you love and missed.

You lose track of time, not noticing when the movie ends and another one begins. All you’re aware of is Mitch, how you can feel him everywhere. His hands gently caress your skin, his lips randomly press kisses to your face as he whispers how much he loves you.

Eventually Mitch is softly shaking you to wake you up. You breathe him in as you stir, slightly dazed, but it all comes back to you as you shift your hips and feel him still nestled inside of you. You let out a quiet moan, a new wave of desire running through you at the realization.

Without thinking, you lift your head to crash your mouth back to Mitch’s. He meets your enthusiasm with his own and what started out gentle earlier now becomes desperate. He carefully moves you so you’re laying on your back with him on top. He checks in again to make sure you’re on the same page before he begins thrusting.

It only takes a few minutes before the two of you are coming together, the feeling of him coating you making you feel even warmer inside than before. You whimper as he pulls out, feeling empty, but better than before. After a few more kisses, Mitch carries you to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

You both climb into bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. That night you sleep more soundly than you have in weeks, and Mitch knows this won’t be the last time you spend an evening with him resting inside of you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thanks for reading! I have one request for this story that I'm working on but if anyone has more just let me know!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader

33 notes · View notes

misshoneyimhome · 9 months

Text

Too lost in you

Tags: soft!Auston; Auston Matthews x reader; blurb;

A/N: so this is completely stolen from the movie "Love Actually", the scene where Juliet finds out about Mark's feelings for her - I only altered it a bit ❤️

If you haven't seen the movie, you've missed out on a classic! 😉 or you're too young to be here... or I'm too old to be here 😂

Baby, I'm too lost in you Caught in you Lost in everything about you So deep I can't sleep, I can't think I just think about the things you do I'm just too lost in you

It was a few weeks after Mitch and Stephanie's wedding, and you were eager to get your hands on the videos Auston had captured throughout the day and evening. You knew he had taken some fantastic shots.

However, when you approached Auston about seeing the videos, he seemed hesitant, leaving you puzzled.

Your relationship with Auston was far from close. He had never made an effort to get to know you, even though you often found yourselves at gatherings or parties with the Toronto Maple Leafs crowd. He rarely engaged in direct conversations with you, and any time you were left alone together by accident, it never lasted more than a couple of minutes. Compared to many of the other guys, Auston was practically a stranger to you.

Despite this, you had heard through the grapevine that Auston had the best videos from the wedding. Given your close friendship with Stephanie, you and some of your girlfriends had decided to embark on a little project for her – some heartfelt video content.

As days passed with Auston avoiding your calls and messages, you decided to take matters into your own hands. And you knew he was at home, thanks to a tip from Mitch.

“Pecan pie?” you excitedly offered, holding the box containing the pie in your hand, as Auston swung the door open.

Auston was taken aback when he opened the door to find you standing there. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated your unexpected visit. He had likely thought that ignoring you would keep you at bay, but your determination had led you straight to his doorstep.

“No, thanks,” he replied softly, frowning a little.

“Thank god,” you said a bit nervously. “It would have broken my heart, if you’d said yes.” You offered him a friendly smile.

“Alright well,” he spoke. “Lucky you.”

“Can I come in?” you asked, again showing your excitement.

But Auston hesitated. “Oh well, eh…” he said, but you slowly began to enter his condo. “I was busy-“

You knew he was trying to avoid you again, so you decided to stand firm and complete the mission.

“Well, I was just passing,” you interrupted, as you kept walking into the living room of his condo. “And I thought we might check that video thing out. I thought I might be able to swap it with some pie or… or maybe, Munchies?” you cheekily suggested, pulling a snack bar out of your pocket, offering Auston a cute smile.

“Actually, I was being serious,” he said, as he faced you standing in the centre of his living room. “I don’t know where it is,” he shrugged - “I’ve poked around and-“

“Auston,” you interrupted him once again. “Can I say something?” you said in your sweetest voice possible.

“Yeah,” he looked a bit down into the floor.

You took in a deep breath before speaking. “I know you’re Mitch’s best friend… and I know you’ve never particularly warmed to me,” you added again a little nervous.

Auston moved slightly avoiding eye contact as you spoke. He tried to indicate that he'd want to say something.

“No, don’t argue,” you added, and he straightened with his cap. “We’ve never got friendly, but I just wanted to say that I hope that it can change, I’m nice, I really am, apart from my terrible taste in pies, and it would be great if we could be friends,” you basically blurted out.

Auston looked directly at you before he again turned his look away a little, awkwardly tugging his hands in his pockets.

“Absolutely… Absolutely,” he replied softly, still awkwardly moving in his place. He paused for a few seconds.

“… Great,” you simply said, and turned to look in another direction as well, sensing the awkwardness between you.

“Doesn’t mean we’ll be able to find the video though,” Auston quickly added as you started to move around in his living room, him quick to follow you. “I had a real search when you first called and I couldn’t find any trace of it, so…”

He was right behind you as you were looking around at the mountain of photos and USB-sticks lying on his coffee table.

“Well, there’s one USB here that says, ‘Mitch and Steph Wedding video’,” you said as you picked up the little plastic item with a small white label on it. “Do you think we’re on the right track?” you offered him a friendly smile again.

“Oh yeah… well, wow…” he said, acting a bit surprised, trying his best to keep his cool facade. “That… that could be it,” he said, tugging on his cap again, as you sat down onto the sofa and plucked it into his already turned-on laptop.

“Do you mind if I just,” you said as you were already preparing to play it.

“Ehm, I probably already deleted the content…” he quickly said, trying to you stop you from what you were doing. “Or maybe there’s just a lot of hockey videos on that one… oh”

But you had already pressed play and the video was about to start. Auston stood a few steps away from you, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop what was about to unfold.

“Oh bingo,” you said as the music played and the video of Stephanie walking into the beautiful wedding scene started to show. She was slowly walking down the flowery scenery, and a couple of the guests were captured as well, looking all mesmerised at her.

Auston was still just fumbling with his hand as he was standing next to you, also looking at the screen.

“That’s lovely,” you added softly. “Oh well done you,” you gasped as the video of the wedding continued to play. “Oh, that’s gorgeous.”

The video showed a few close ups of Stephanie in her absolutely stunning wedding gown, her hair and make-up all perfectly done. “Thank you so much Auston, this is exactly what I was hoping for.”

Auston held his arms tightly close to his body, as he took a hand to his forehead.

The video started to show a few shots of the guests, where you were captured in several of them. You smiled as he had caught your best angles and you could really see your amazing outfit and make-up, which you had spent weeks on perfectioning.

“I look quite pretty,” you lightly chuckled, as more shots of you were running over the display. You smiled. The video was amazing.

“You’ve stayed rather close, haven’t you,” you chuckled, turning your head to look at Auston, who’s expression was turning a little sad, and he’d started to blush.

But you didn’t notice. You simply laughed and turned back to face the screen.

And his heart dropped as the video was getting closer to the end.

In this very moment, he could cry - scream and crawl into a whole. He knew what was coming.

You smiled as the soft music kept playing, but you started to notice how all of the videos were of you. From a distance, zoomed in. From different angles, and different times during the night. When you were posing with the girls, when you were dancing with some of the other guests, and when you were eating a bite of the cake.

In fact, all of the shots were of you.

The soft music kept playing, and you were about to say something, when you slowly realised… it was all about you.

You stared at the laptop screen as the final videos continued.

Auston had only taken video shots of you during the evening. No one else - but you.

You slowly turned your head to look at Auston, but he was just starring at the screen with wide eyes and lightly biting down on his fingers.

You could tell there was something going on inside his head.

You’d found out.

Even the final shot of Stephanie and Mitch waving goodbye to the crowd, was of you.

You bit down your bottom lip. “They’re all of me…” you said with a low tone of voice.

“Yeah… yeah… yes,” Auston softly replied.

You watched it to the end. And then the music stopped.

You sat there. On his sofa. Speechless.

“But” you stammered. “You never talk to me… you always talk to everyone else”.

Auston didn’t say anything, just simply shrugged.

“You don’t like me,” you added, offering Auston a puzzled expression.

He was blinking several times, looking away from you before he said something. “I hope it’s useful.” His voice was low and nervous. “Don’t… show it around too much… it needs a … bit of… editing… look, I’ve got to get to… a…lunch, early lunch - you can just show yourself out, ‘kay…” he said, then walked away from you, before stopping again. “It’s a… self-preservation, you see,” he added before he walked out into the hallway, and out of the door.

Leaving you baffled and alone on his sofa.

#auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #auston x reader #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl hockey imagine #nhl hockey fic

90 notes · View notes

dameronscopilot · 1 year

Note

Asking Mitch Keller about his bullriding days turns into either him giving you a cock riding lesson or you showing him how good at it you are already

(i love the way you think, nonnie)

Just Like That

Mitch Keller x f!reader

Summary: One thing leads to another during a conversation about Mitch's days on the circuit, and you find yourself straddling his lap as the ex-bull rider gives you the ride of your life.

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, cockwarming, praise kink

“Honey, no offense, but you’d get bucked right off.”

You cross your arms with a huff, and Mitch chuckles, mustache twitching as the corners of his lips curve upward in amusement.

Ever since you secured the weekly Sunday night performance spot at Bred 2 Buck—in which you regularly play a laid back acoustic set for the tail end of the weekend’s mellow crowd—you’ve fallen into a quick and easy friendship with the bar’s owner, Mitch Keller.

Following your set this evening, you had found yourself seated at the bar counter, absorbed in conversation with him about his famed bull riding days. And though you’d brought up the topic at hand partially because you were incredibly curious about his time on the circuit, you also did it for a much more self-serving reason: it gave you the opportunity to experience the way his blue eyes lit up with fondness upon recalling the memories, a boyish grin that left your heart fluttering in your chest tracking its way across his face.

When last call rolled around, your discussion was far from over, as you found yourself hanging on to Mitch’s every word (and each movement of his lips, if you were being honest) as he regaled a particularly harrowing rodeo story. And thus he’d invited you back to his place for the first time, which is how you now find yourself seated in his living room, arguing over your own potential merits as a bull rider.

“I feel like I’d last for a couple of seconds at least,” you protest. “I rode a mechanical bull once.”

“That…definitely ain’t the same thing,” he replies, running a hand over his beard.

Mitch raises an eyebrow when you stand up and stride over to where he’s seated on the couch, reaching out and plucking his hat off of his head, tossing it onto the coffee table behind you.

“Show me what it’s like, then.”

Hoping like hell you haven’t been misreading whatever’s been quietly simmering between the two of you for weeks on end, you climb into Mitch’s lap and straddle his thighs, letting your knees press down into the couch cushion as the skirt of your dress rides upward.

He goes still, clearly not having anticipated this particular turn of events, and his gaze bores into yours for a moment as he waits to see if you’re serious.

When you wiggle for emphasis, he darts his tongue out of his mouth, running it over his teeth as he grins, looking down and shaking his head. “You sure? Think I might be a little out of practice, darlin’. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

You catch the double meaning of his words, and some small part of you preens upon receiving this knowledge—the fact that, although many of the women that waltz into that bar do so with sultry hopes of going home with its handsome owner (something you quickly learned once you started playing there), success clearly hasn’t been on their side.

“Well let’s get you back in the saddle then, cowboy,” you smirk, toying with a lock of hair that’s come loose and fallen across his forehead.

Bringing his large hands up to tentatively rest across the tops of your thighs, he tilts his head to the side, appraising you. “You got that backwards, ‘cause you’re the one in the saddle tonight.”

He rocks his hips upward just enough to throw you off balance, amusement rumbling in his chest when you pitch forward slightly.

As you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to regain your balance, he tuts, “One hand. And it should be down here.”

Mitch takes one of your hands and places it over his belt, encouraging you to wrap your fingers around the leather. Remembering what constitutes a typical bull rider pose, you raise your left hand and let it hover in the air.

“Like this?”

The tone of his voice drips down your spine like molasses when he drawls, “Yeah, honey. Just like that.”

With his palms face down on either side of him, Mitch leans back and spreads his thighs slightly wider underneath you before he begins to roll his hips once more. His steady gaze remains focused on yours, watching the way you continuously fall out of sync with his movements.

“Move with me,” he instructs.

You heed his words, and as he begins to increase his pace, you fall into a smooth rhythm rocking in the cradle of his hips. But your focus begins to wane as you feel the evidence of his growing erection, the denim of his jeans pressing firmly into the sheer tights covering the wet warmth at the apex of your thighs with each and every thrust.

When Mitch ruts upward particularly hard, an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the pleasure that rockets down your spine. Unable to stop yourself, you tug hard on his belt as you grind back down against his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, starting to lose his composure.

Bringing his hands up to grasp your hips, he holds you tightly in place as he repeats his last movement, his heated gaze locked on your own. You thread your free hand into his hair, relishing the softness of his long locks for a moment before tugging his head backward as you take your turn chasing the friction of his shaft against your mound.

His mouth falls open slightly when do you so, and between one breath and the next, Mitch’s hands are cupping your face as he surges forward, lips seeking yours out in a hungry, belated kiss. The ache between your thighs begins to throb as his plush lips slide against yours, one hand sliding down to curl around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your exposed collar bone.

You let your jaw relax for Mitch when his tongue flirts with the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss, and at the feeling of his hand trailing down to stake claim over your lower back just above the swell of your ass, you desperately arch your body into him.

“Mitch,” you whimper, panting as he nips at your bottom lip.

“What do you want, honey?” he asks calmly, as if he’s entirely unaware of the way your slick arousal has begun to seep through your underwear, leaving a damp mark where you’ve frantically been rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.

Fingers skating across his belt buckle, you cup his shaft and squeeze. “I want you to fuck me while you’re showing me how to ride you.”

Mitch smirks, pushing up the skirt of your dress and letting both of his hands encircle the bend between your hips and your thighs, thumbs teasing where your stockings are now sopping wet. He groans appreciatively, reaching out and pinching the material between his fingers.

“Think we’re gonna need to get these off first then.”

“Just rip them, I don’t care,” you whine, too impatient to climb off of him.

Clearly just as into the idea as you are, Mitch doesn’t hesitate to reach into his back pocket, flipping open his pocket knife. You sit still as he carefully grasps a fistful of the wet nylon, tugging it forward before slicing a hole into it, a fresh gush of arousal leaking into your underwear at the sight. He hooks a finger in your panties, and you shiver as the digit brushes against your folds.

“Hell, you’re so fuckin’ wet, honey,” he rasps, leaning forward to kiss you again while he slips his finger into your entrance.

The tension coiled within your gut squeezes tighter as he leans forward to kiss you languidly, adding a second finger and pumping them both in and out of your needy cunt. He swallows down the breathy moans that leave your lips, mouth moving with yours while you hastily reach out to take off his belt, tossing it aside before prying open his jeans.

He matches your moans of pleasure with his own when you wrap your fingers around his shaft, though the sounds briefly morph to amusement when you stop kissing him to glance down between the two of you with wide eyes. Your mouth begins to water as you drink in the sight of the long, thick cock in your hands, and your pussy aches with need at the thought of him splitting your tight little cunt open with it.

Unable to wait any longer, you lift your body and line yourself up with the tip of his cock. Mitch’s fingers press into the sides of your thighs as you hover above him, and he looks up at you with lust-blown eyes while you begin to sink down onto his shaft.

The living room is filled with a chorus of moans from your lips and his own as his cock slowly disappears into your body, inch by inch. Once his length is fully swallowed into the warmth of your cunt, he lets out a ragged breath, running a hand through his hair.

“You take me so damn good, sweetheart.”

Pleasure shoots down your spine at the praise, stoking the growing fire in your gut.

Leaning in, you let your lips hover over his as you murmur, “Now show me how a real cowboy rides.”

Mitch’s lips come crashing into yours, and he grabs your hips, pulling you upward as he drags his cock out of your channel teasingly slow, only to slam it right back in. You barely have time to cry out before he does it again, sending a numbing wave of pleasure through your body as he ruthlessly splits your weeping cunt open.

With one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping at his shoulder, you hold on tightly as Mitch begins to give you the fucking ride of your life, hips snapping up into yours at a brutal pace as he plunges in and out of your fluttering hole, your soaking wet cunt squelching with each pounding thrust.

Mitch’s cock is so goddamn massive, the steady pressure as he drags it through your inner walls has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes while you writhe in his lap. But it feels so fucking good. You’re never felt so full in your life.

You’re a moaning, whimpering, cock drunk mess, and he kisses you bruisingly as he reaches up to wipe away a stray tear that’s sliding down your cheek.

“You look fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low and rough.

At that, the pressure building inside of you bursts in a gushing wave of pleasure, and you grab onto Mitch desperately as your limbs tremble with the force of it. Soft, warm praise falls from his mouth as he fucks you through your climax, the words a direct contrast to the way he roughly continues to ravage your sensitive hole.

On the edge of his own orgasm, Mitch goes to lift you off of him, but you remain firmly in place as you plead, "I wanna feel you come inside of me.”

He sucks in a sharp breath at your request, and you cry out when he obliges, driving the full length of his shaft deep into you once more. Fingers digging into your hip bones, Mitch’s cock pulses while he empties himself inside of you, hot ropes of cum painting your inner walls as he fills you with his release.

You collapse forward, leaning your head against his chest, and Mitch holds you tightly in his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you remain nestled comfortably in his lap, in no rush to move anytime soon—not even when his cock begins to soften in your channel, dribbles of cum leaking out of your sensitive hole.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» MITCH KELLER MASTERLIST

» GARRETT HEDLUND MASTERLIST

#answers from the cockpit #mitch keller x reader #mitch keller #mitch keller smut #garrett hedlund fanfiction #tulsa king #tulsa king fanfiction #mitch keller fanfiction #dee writes

254 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

Text

BLIND EYE

A/N: i've had this idea stuck in my head for a while and im kinda satisfied with how it turned out! hope you guys will like it too!

WORD COUNT: 10k

WARNING: sexual content, lots of misscommunication, its an emotional rollercoaster

SUMMARY: Harry thought everything was going well in his marriage. Right until one day his wife left with no explanation and not he is stuck in the dark, waiting to find out how he can fight for what matters the most to him.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“Will this bloody rain ever stop?” Harry grumbles under his nose as they finally reach the front door of the townhouse that’s covered from the pouring rain. His hands are buried deep in his jacket’s pockets as he impatiently waits for Mitch to open the door so they can finally escape the monsoon that’s been nonstop pouring for the past three days. Mitch chuckles softly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Aren’t you supposed to be used to the rain? You spent way too much time away from here.”

“Just because I’m British it doesn’t mean I have to like this shitty weather,” he scoffs, following his friend into the home Mitch and Sarah are renting for the upcoming weeks. Harry and the band are now located in London to record as much new material as possible before they need to get on the road again soon.

“If you say so,” Mitch huffs out a small laugh as he kicks his wet boots off his feet, Harry doing the same with his trainers.

“Sarah’s not home?” he questions, hanging his jacket up. Mitch grows cautious at his question, though he made sure his wife would be out by the time they get here. It’s not that Sarah is trying to avoid Harry. It’s impossible, since they work together, but she has made plans with someone who is actually actively working on not running into the singer.

“Uh, no. She is out with James,” he says, picking up a toy on his way to the living room, dropping it into the basket next to the couch. “I’ll put my phone on the charger, can you make us coffee? You know how the machine works, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry nods and as Mitch heads upstairs to the bedroom, he walks into the kitchen, moving around like it’s his home.

For a bit, the espresso machine’s noise cancels out everything else, Harry stands by it, staring out into the pouring rain through the sliding door that leads out to the small, lush green backyard. The townhouse is well-kept, Mitch and Sarah have rented it out several times when they had to spend more than just a few days in London and Harry thinks it suits the little family perfectly.

Looking around in the kitchen he finds little reminders of the baby they welcomed not long ago, the bottles on the drying rack, the portable highchair they usually bring on tour as well and toys left scattered here and there. James has been a true blessing and Harry’s chest swells with pride every time he sees the little lad, knowing that he brought his parents together by recruiting them into the same band.

When the machine stops working, Harry hears muffled voices coming from upstairs. Voices, as in not just Mitch’s.

He grabs his black coffee and curiously walks over to the bottom of the stairs, only to hear Mitch talking to his wife somewhere upstairs. So Sarah is home.

“Mitch?” he calls out, taking a small sip of his coffee. He hears footsteps and his friend appears on the stairs a few moments later, rushing down to join him, but he looks tense this time. “What’s up? Did I hear Sarah?”

“Yeah, she had to come back for something, but she’ll be leaving any minute. Come on, let’s settle in the kitchen.” Mitch gently grabs Harry’s arm and pulls him away from the stairs, but he resists, yanking his hold off of himself.

“What’s happening? I can’t see Sarah?” He chuckles with a puzzled look.

“No, no, it’s just–”

And then he hears it.

Harry would recognize her voice from a million others, it’s burnt into his mind and memories, and though it’s been a source of happiness and joy for long years in his life, now it makes his stomach drop and his throat goes dry.

“She’s here?” Harry frantically asks his friend.

“H, don’t. She doesn’t–”

Harry doesn’t let him finish, he rushes up the stairs without a second thought, looking for her. The door of the master bedroom is open, Sarah is standing there with James in her arms and when she spots him, her eyes widen.

“Harry–”

“I want to see her,” he pleads, slowly approaching the drummer, who is now walking towards him. She places a hand to his chest to stop him and he comes to a halt, though he is constantly trying to look over her shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of the person in the bedroom.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Sarah, I haven’t seen her in a month. I need to… Please!” he begs as panic is spreading through his veins from the thought of missing the chance of stealing a glimpse of her. It’s been the longest he had to spend apart from her and given the circumstances of how they parted the last time they saw each other, he is desperate to win some time with her.

“But she doesn’t–”

“It’s fine,” comes a voice from the bedroom and a moment later she steps out into the hallway and Harry’s vision blurs out everything around her.

One month felt like an eternity. After being joined by the hips for years, Harry lost contact with the person who means the most to him: his wife.

Sarah looks back at her friend, who just nods to reassure her she can leave them alone, though she glances back one last time before going down the stairs and giving them some privacy.

Harry feels like it’s the first time he is seeing her all over again. She is still just as gorgeous as he remembers, wearing a simple pair of jeans with a red knitted sweater. She is barely wearing any makeup, so he notices the circles under her eyes and his heart breaks all over again. Has she been having trouble sleeping? Was she recently sick? Is she not taking care of her? He has so many questions, but he knows he can’t just spill it all on her.

“Hey,” he breathes out instead, taking a hesitant step towards her, though they are still several feet apart. He is fighting the urge to reach out and touch her, caress her cheek, pull her into his arms and kiss her…

“Hi. Sorry, we weren’t supposed to be here, but James was a little cold so we came back for an extra jacket for him,” she explains, nervously crossing her arms over her chest and Harry feels like it’s her way of keeping him away and locked out of her private space. It hurts, seeing her act so cold towards him and knowing that he can do absolutely nothing about it.

“Don’t apologize for running into me. I’m glad to see you,” he softly says, taking another step forward, but this time she backs one too, hinting that she wants him to stay right where he is.

Harry clenches his jaw and bites his tongue, knowing that commenting on her cold act would just worsen his situation and it’s bad enough already. He fists his hands, but then forces himself to loosen the grip, not wanting to look like a threat in any way.

“How… How are you?” he asks, ignoring the millions of questions he wants to ask her.

“I’m fine,” she nods, but her voice is flat, lacks the brightness he is used to and it concerns him. “How are you?” she asks, more likely only out of politeness.

“I’m good. Just… working, you know.”

“Yeah, the usual,” she nods with a weak smile.

There’s a few moments of awkward silence, something that never really happened between the two of them, not even when they were just getting to know each other back in the day.

“Alright, I’ll just go–” she moves to walk past Harry, but he stops her, placing a hand on her arm, the touch taking both of them by surprise.

“Wait, Y/N,” he pleads and her eyes look down at his hand on her. He moves it right away, hoping he didn’t overstep the boundaries that have been quite blurry lately. “I just… I don’t understand,” he admits, exhaling sharply.

“Harry…” she sighs. “I told you that I need ti–”

“Time, I get it. And I respect that. But I want to know what’s happening. You left me in the dark and I’m just…” he breathes out, so lost and desperate to find answers. “I want to know what’s happening. I can wait and give you time and space, but I need to at least know what I’m waiting for. What I can expect.”

She closes her eyes, a tortured frown plastered across her face as she bites into her bottom lip to stop her from crying. The past month has been tough for her as well, not just for Harry.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” she shakes her head.

“Tell me a reason, Y/N. There has to be a reason behind this, right?” he demands, but she just shakes her head again.

“I can’t do this now. I’m sorry,” she blurts out before running past him and down the stairs. He immediately regrets for pushing her and though he goes after her, she is fast and out of the house before he could catch up with her and when he reaches the end of the stairs he is met with Sarah.

“Don’t go after her, okay?” she pleads with a gentle hand on his chest. Harry wants to ignore her and just chase after Y/N, but deep down he knows he should stay back.

“Sarah, I can’t fucking do this. She wouldn’t say a word to me,” he breaks down, his throat closing up from the wave of emotions that are washing over him.

“I know, but she needs time. She will come around, just be patient.”

“I would be patient if only I knew what I’m waiting for! Don’t you think I deserve to know why she suddenly wanted to be separated from me? She is my wife, Sarah.”

He is a mess, has been since one day he came home and found Y/N’s suitcase gone with some of her stuff, a note on the fridge.

“I need some time to think things through. I’m staying at my brother’s.”

That’s it, nothing more. When he frantically called her, she could barely get a few words out, just told him that she needs time and she wants to be separated for a while. She didn’t say why, she didn’t say how long and Harry could barely get him to accept it, but he wanted her back, so he knew he would have to do what she asked.

It’s been one month and Harry barely heard from Y/N. They exchanged a few occasional texts about technical things, but nothing more. Harry has been in the dark ever since and he is reaching the end of his limit.

“I know and I’m sorry,” Sarah softly says as she takes James from Mitch. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

Harry’s eyes snap at her.

“So you know why she’s doing it?” he asks with wide eyes. Sarah opens her mouth and closes right away as she realizes how she just gave herself away. “Sarah, you need to tell me.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I’m begging you.”

“H, stop,” Mitch places a warning hand to his shoulder as Sarah takes her bag and heads towards the door.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she sighs before walking out.

Harry stares at the door for long moments, as if he was waiting for Y/N to come back, but it remains closed. When he turns around to face Mitch, he looks like just the shadow of his old self. He is not himself without his better half and that’s Y/N.

“It’s gonna be alright. You trust Y/N, right?” Mitch asks, as he gently ushers Harry back into the kitchen.

“With my whole life,” he answers without missing a beat.

“Then trust her now too.”

Harry can’t say a word to that. His mind is racing, memories with Y/N and anything that could possibly drive her away from him occupy his mind, but he can’t bring up anything. He thought things were going great, they even talked about trying for a baby soon. She took a 180 out of nowhere and she is like an enigma now, when Harry thought he knew his wife better than anyone.

He keeps telling himself that he needs to keep his faith and believe that she’ll come back. But at times when she can barely speak a few words with him he can’t help but think that his marriage is falling apart right in front of his eyes and he can’t do a single thing about it.

The days pass by painfully slowly and Harry finds himself sitting on an emotional rollercoaster. Some days he can barely keep himself from calling her or showing up at her brother’s place to talk to her. Some days he fully accepts that he needs to wait it out and she’ll return to him eventually. And the day between the two might be the worse, when he can’t decide how he is feeling or what he wants to do.

He only hears about her from Mitch and Sarah, though they only throw crumbles of information about her. Harry hates that they are so good friends to her as well, because now it’s not in his favor. Though Sarah keeps it from him most of the time when she goes to see Y/N, Harry is not stupid. He knows they meet up regularly and he’s never been more jealous of anyone.

Harry plans out a birthday dinner for Anne and sends the details to Y/N as well. After all, she is still his wife and he knows how close Y/N and Anne are. His mother would have been disappointed if he didn’t even invite her.

He doesn’t get an answer though. Harry is tempted to ask her whether he should be expecting her on the morning of the dinner, but he talks himself down at last.

He invited all of his mother’s friends, his bandmates and anyone that matters in his mother’s life. It’s a bit of a surprise, because Gemma brings her to the restaurant, but she doesn’t know who’s gonna be there, so when she sees all the guests she is shocked and touched.

“Thank you so much!” she hugs Harry, tight and warm before kissing him on the cheek.

“Of course, mum,” he hums with a small smile.

He catches her looking around, as if she was searching for someone and his stomach drops when he realizes that she is probably looking for Y/N. She doesn’t comment on the lack of her presence when she doesn’t see her, but Harry can see the disappointment in her eyes.

Anne is still making her rounds of greeting everyone when Harry goes to the bar and checks up on the first round of drinks. The bartender is already finishing up the last few cocktails when Harry sees a familiar figure walking into the restaurant and his stomach drops before he even looks at her.

Y/N looks around hesitantly before she spots the group in the back, only after that does she see Harry standing by the bar and she stops in her tracks.

Harry is frozen, he wasn’t expecting her to come, not after she left him on read, but here she is, wrapped in her fuzzy coat and a black dress underneath. She shoots him a tight-lipped smile before approaching Anne who jumps into her arms when she sees her. He watches his mum hug his wife and a few months ago, this would be a lovely scene, but now it just pains him, knowing he doesn’t have the privilege to do the same.

He can’t hear what they talk about and he fights the urge to lurk closer as he returns to the table and takes his seat next to his sister.

“You’re not gonna make a scene, right?” Gemma leans over to him.

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know, you’re staring at her like a maniac.”

“Oh, piss off!” he rolls his eyes at his sister. “I haven’t seen her in weeks, of course I’m gonna stare,” he mumbles, just when the waiter places his cocktail in front of him. He grabs the drink in an instant and chugs down half of it at once. “I’m watching my own wife like a stalker. Pathetic,” he whispers, more to himself than to Gemma, but she catches his words clearly. Reaching over he gives his hand a squeeze.

“It’s gonna be alright.”

“Are you a traitor too and you know why she is doing it?” Harry scoffs.

“She didn’t tell me. But I know you both and I know that she loves you,” Gemma says.

“So then what do you think is happening? If she loves me, why can’t she tell me—“ Harry cuts him off when he realizes that he is talking a bit too loud. He clears his throat, making it sure no one was listening, but everyone seems too busy to pay attention to the siblings. “She is not talking to me, so I must have done something, but if she doesn’t tell me, I can’t make it right,” he continues, keeping his voice down.

“Maybe… you can’t make it right.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” he frowns. “If I did something so terrible, I would know about that, don’t you think?”

“Then maybe it’s not something you did,” she shrugs. “She asked for time, just give her that.”

“I’m fucking done with everyone telling me the same thing,” he growls and stands from the table and steps out to the back area that’s reserved for smoking, feeling several stares on his back as he exits.

He knows he shouldn’t have left like that, but he was losing his temper and he truly didn’t want to cause a scene, not on his mother’s birthday. If he smoked, he would be lighting a cigarette vigorously right now, but he is just staring up at the dark sky as he is waiting for his anger to die down. He hears the door open close and when he looks behind him, he sees Anne approaching him.

“Hey baby, everything alright?” she asks and as she reaches him she brushes a few curls out of his forehead.

“M’sorry, just needed some air.”

Anne nods, knowing well what he meant by that. She hates to see him like this, so broken and lost, but she can’t help him this time. Not in this fight.

“I think it’s a first step that she came. She knew you’d be here, but she still came. Why don’t you come back and show her that you appreciate her presence. That you’re happy she’s here.”

“I am happy that she’s here, but it’s still hard to be around her,” he exhales tiredly.

“I know, baby,” she nods. “But you have to be strong. I know you can do it. She needs you.”

“Does she? She is shutting me out, mum,” he scoffs.

“She needs you to support her by giving her time and space. I know it’s hard to do it, but she told you what she needs.”

Harry sighs and nods.

“Let’s go back,” he mumbles. Anne smiles up at him and kisses his cheek before the two of them return to the table.

Harry tries his best not to stare at Y/N for the rest of the dinner. She sits on the opposite end of the long table between two of his cousins. She seems less bubbly and lively than usual, but that’s all Harry can notice from the handful of stolen glances he allows himself throughout the evening. He’s heard the same thing so many times from different people that he just needs to give her what she asked for, but hearing it from his mother it finally sinks in. His patience that’s been shortening with every day spent apart suddenly becomes never ending and he realizes he’ll just have to wait for as long as she needs him to.

When the guests are starting to leave one by one, Harry can’t help but keep an eye on Y/N. When he sees her getting ready to leave he decides it’s time to get moving as well. He approaches her, making sure he doesn’t get too close so he is not scaring her away.

“Hey,” he softly says and she looks up with doe eyes.

“Hi,” she breathes out as she grabs her coat from the rack behind her.

“Let me help,” he offers and she hesitates before letting him take the coat and help it onto her.

“Thanks. And… for inviting me as well. I’m sorry I didn’t answer, I just—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m just glad you came. My mum too,” he adds with a tiny chuckle. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah, I have to be up early tomorrow. It’s great that I can just walk home from here.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, trying to decide whether to ask her what he’s been planning all evening and at last he just shoots his shot.

“Can I walk you home?”

Her lips part as she stares back at him and Harry knows she is about to reject him, but he speaks up first.

“We don’t have to talk. Just let me make sure you get home safe. Please, Y/N. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

She clenches her jaw and stares back at him for what feels like forever and Harry is already bracing himself to get rejected, but then she nods.

“Okay. But I really don’t want to talk.”

“No talking. Not even a word,” he agrees eagerly, feeling like on top of the world. “Let me just pay the bill.”

He practically runs to settle the check, paying for everyone’s dinner and drinks. He keeps looking back to check if she’s still there and hasn’t left without him. She’s talking to Gemma, patiently waiting for him.

He grabs his coat too and then returns to her as fast as possible.

“It was nice seeing you, Gem,” she smiles. Gemma’s eyes move from her to Harry, a curious, questioning look, but she doesn’t comment on why Y/N’s leaving with him.

“You too. Take care,” Gemma smiles before returning to the remaining few guests.

They say goodbye to Anne as well, Harry tells his mum to stay for as long as she wants with her girlfriends, he paid for a few more drinks in advance. She thanks him everything and Harry doesn’t miss the smile on her lips when she sees him leave with Y/N.

It’s tempting to break his promise, but Harry keeps his mouth shut as they walk next to each other. Y/N’s brother’s apartment is just a few blocks away from the restaurant. It could have been a mere coincidence, but Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t think about how she might be more likely to come if she didn’t have to travel too far.

He is nervously fidgeting in his pockets as they are walking in silence. The walk is about fifteen minutes and he feels like a clock is ticking above his head, counting down the time he gets to spend physically close to her. When he spots the building that’s their destination, he is trying his best to push down his panic at the thought of not seeing her again for weeks. They’re almost there when he breaks his promise.

“You looked beautiful tonight, by the way.”

He awaits his punishment for speaking, expecting her to tell him off or just speed walk into the building, but her actual reaction is a total shocker.

She laughs, shaking her head.

“I knew you wouldn’t make it,” she sighs, but doesn’t sound upset.

“You know me too well,” he chuckles, but his heart drops when he realizes that they arrived. Taking a deep breath he just continues to talk. “I’m sorry for the scene last time. I was just not expecting to see you and I panicked.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t handle it too well either, so… I’m sorry too.”

Harry waits a few seconds, hoping that she might tell him more, but he is out of luck again. Tonight won’t be the one where she finally explains it all to him and he needs to accept it.

“I’ll give you the time and space you asked for under one condition,” he says. She inhales shakily.

“What’s the condition?”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me when you’re ready. I need to know that I will get my answers. It doesn’t matter when, whenever you want to.”

She curls her lips into her mouth as she looks to the side, folding her arms on her chest. When she looks back at him he holds his breath until she finally speaks up.

“I promise.”

Harry feels like he is breathing for the first time ever since she left. It’s a short relief, but he will probably think about this feeling for the next week.

“Okay,” he breathes out. “I’ll be waiting, Y/N. For as long as you need me to.” Chewing on her bottom lip she just nods. “Alright, I’ll go now. Thank you again, for coming tonight.”

“Bye, Harry,” she quietly says, walking up the stairs to the door.

“Bye, Y/N.”

Trouble in paradise?

Harry Styles tied the knot with Y/N Y/L/N just a little over a year ago. The couple had been going strong for five years when the singer popped the question and the intimate wedding was held exactly a year later. They’ve been praised as everyone’s favorite celebrity it couple, but their marriage might not be as strong as it appears from the outside.

A source close to Styles said the ex 1D member and his wife have been separated since the end of august, but there’s no talk of divorce yet. It’s unknown why the lovers decided to spend time apart, but fans have noticed that Y/N hasn’t been spotted anywhere near the singer lately. The couple is known to keep their private life hidden from the public, but they’d been spotted strolling around, running errands every once in a while. However, the last time they were seen together was back in July on their trip to LA.

While there hasn’t been any confirmation about the alleged separation, speculations have been thriving about the possible reasons behind the issues. Some even go as far as accusing either the singer or Y/N with cheating.

Thunderclouds are gathering over London when Harry is heading home from the studio. It’s been a long day, but they got a lot done and they might be able to finish with recording earlier than they planned so everyone can have some time off.

As he walks into the empty house he gets rid of his mask and kicks his trainers off, padding his way into the kitchen to get a plate for his dinner he picked up on his way home. He used to eat at the kitchen counter, because Y/N liked to bake or cook so she spent a lot of time in the modern kitchen that was formed entirely to her taste. He loved sitting on a stool and watch her work, they talked about their day and then Harry asked to help, but eventually, she would just tell him to leave, because he could never keep his hands away from her.

Now the kitchen reminds him of her way too much so he avoids spending time there. He pours the pasta to a plate, grabs himself a fork and takes his dinner to the living room, hoping to find something to watch on TV so the house is not entirely silent. He has barely dug into the food when his phone starts ringing on the coffee table. For a second he thinks about ignoring it, but then he catches a glimpse of the caller ID.

Y/N’s smiling picture is displayed on the screen and he barely drops the plate as he snatches the phone and answers the call.

“Y/N, hi!” he breathes out, his heart hammering in his chest. There’s a sniffle on the other end of the call and he switches into alerted mode in an instant. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Harry, can you… Can you please come over?”

He is already up from the couch, the pasta abandoned on the coffee table as he’s running to get his keys and put his shoes back on.

“What happened, talk to me! I’m on my way, just talk to me, alright?”

“Mason is out of town a-and I’m alone and the lights went out,” she explains and Harry doesn’t even need more. He knows she hates the dark and scared to even touch the electrical fuse, she always fears she would get electrocuted. The power used to go out all the time in their previous home and it was always Harry who had to check the fuse while she stood behind him, scared as if he was dealing with a bomb.

“Okay, do you have candles? A torch?” he asks, jumping on one leg as he pulls his trainers back on.

“J-Just my phone.” A thunder is heard from the other end of the call and she exhales shakily.

“Alright, put me on speaker, turn on the light on your phone and sit down on the couch by the window. The lights are on outside on the street?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then it’s not entirely dark. Great, just hold on and I’ll be there soon.”

They stay in call while Harry jumps into his car and speeds over to her brother’s place that’s your temporary home now. Halfway there the sky opens and rain starts pouring down. Arriving at Mason’s place he jumps out of the car and soaks to the bone in an instant as he runs up to the front door. Y/N opens the door right away and lets him into the dark house.

“I’m sorry f-for calling you, I just didn’t know—“ she starts apologizing immediately, but he just shakes his head, ridding himself of the wet jacket.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I’m glad you called me,” he smiles softly, even though she probably can’t see it in the dark. When he’s kicked his shoes off he runs a hand through his wet curls before turning on the light on his own phone. “Alright, where’s the fuse box?”

“Here, let me show you,” she says and holding her own phone she leads him to a little nook underneath the stairs. It holds a few brooms and cardboard boxes and the fuse box is on the wall across from the door. “Please be careful,” she says as Harry leans closer to take a look at it, holding his light next to his face.

She watches him fumble with the switches, turning back on several ones before the lights finally come back on in the house, relief washing over Y/N.

“There. It’s all good now.” Harry closes the door of the nook and turns off the light on his phone before facing Y/N again. Now he has the chance to look at her, she’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was once his, but she stole it from him a long time ago. It makes his heart flutter, knowing that she is still wearing his clothes.

“Thank you,” she breathes out relieved, but then her expression changes. “I’m sorry, I feel so helpless,” she says with a wobbling bottom lip and Harry acts without even thinking.

Stepping closer he takes her face in his hands as he shakes his head at her words.

“You’re not helpless, Y/N. A lot of people are scared of electricity, it’s a dangerous thing.”

“It’s not just about the fuse box,” she whimpers, tears rolling down her face, but he wipes them off right away. “I-I don’t… I hate it…”

“Come on, let’s sit down. It’s okay.”

He pulls her into the living room and they settle on the couch, Harry has wrapped his arms around her and she’s buried her face in his chest. He feels selfish because part of him is enjoying holding her like this, it’s the most physical touch they’ve had in a long time, but then he remembers how shaken up she is and his joy quickly gets pushed into the back of his head.

“It’s okay, baby. Just take a deep breath,” he gently soothes her, running his hand up and down her back and arm until her breathing slows down and she is not fisting his shirt anymore. “Tell me, what got you so upset, hm?”

She remains silent and Harry patiently waits for her to speak up.

“Do you think I’m helpless on my own?” she asks in a weak, quiet voice without lifting her head up from his chest.

“Of course not. Why would you think that of yourself?”

“Because… I can’t even switch the lights back on by myself and I’m an adult.”

“That doesn’t make you helpless. Everyone has things like this, I promise.”

“What’s yours?” she asks, finally lifting her head and looking him in the eyes. Harry hums as he thinks about what he should bring up.

“I don’t use matches, because I’m always afraid the fire might get to my fingers too fast and burn me.”

“Really? You never told that to me,” she says with raised eyebrows and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Because it’s not that important. Like I said, everyone has fears like this, it’s okay.”

He dares to brush her hair behind her ear and run his fingertips down the side of her face. He can’t believe there was a time when he took these tiny touches for granted, when he could touch her whenever he wanted to without overanalyzing what could go wrong.

She looks him in the eyes and holds his gaze for long moments. Harry is continuously expecting her to move away, to take the privilege of holding her away, but it never comes. He feels like he is the closest to her he has been since she left.

Placing a hand to his thigh she pushes herself up, her nose almost brushing against his and he stops breathing for a moment, thinking it was just coincidence. She’s still looking at him, one hand on his chest, the other one on his thigh while his arms are circled around her frame.

And then she kisses him.

They freeze for a second, both of them caught by surprise by the action, but then time keeps moving and Harry doesn’t waste a second of it as he opens up his lips and kisses her back fiercely, as if he was trying to make up for every missed kiss from the past months.

She moves up, never breaking the kiss, devouring her husband after the starving. She moves around until she is finally straddling his lap and he loses his control, his hands finding her ass, grabbing it hard and making her grind against him. She moans into his mouth and he swears he could come just by the sounds she is making. Her heavy breathing, the soft whimpers, he missed her so much, it’s a miracle he could hold out for this long without her.

He can feel how needy she is, how much she is seeking relief, but his conscious is still there in the back of his mind, telling him to be careful and he knows that if they had sex now, that might trigger her and she would end up pushing him away even more. They can’t take this step until there are so many unsaid things between them, but he wants to please her still.

Holding onto her hips he guides her until her core is pressed against his thigh and he urges her to grind against it.

She moans loudly at the sensation, her head falling back and he takes the opportunity to kiss down the column of her neck, tasting her like she is his last meal. She starts moving on her own and Harry lets her use him however she pleases, all he wants is to satisfy her. His hard cock is bulging in his pants, but he is ignoring his own desires, this moment is about her.

“Feels good, baby? Hmm?” he murmurs into her ear as she keeps grinding against his thigh.

“Yes,” she answers breathlessly, curling her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him tight.

“Use me, I’m all yours,” he growls, feeling satisfied already just by watching her.

The time spent apart seems to have one perk, Y/N’s orgasm comes fast and hard after months of drought, she comes gasping for air, clawing at Harry’s chest and shoulder, her face pressed against his, lips mushed together as he steals a few more sloppy kisses.

There’s a few minutes of bliss, she’s like jelly in his arms, his heart slowly getting back into its normal rhythm. He prays to stay in this moment for as long as possible, it’s the most he has gotten with his wife in months and he doesn’t want it to end.

But the cloud of passion slowly clears out of her head and she realizes what just happened. He can almost see the switch in her as she pushes away from him and climbs off of his lap, moving to the far end of the couch.

“Y/N, don’t shut me—“

“You should leave,” she cuts him off dryly, staring ahead of her.

“Let’s just talk, I can’t—“

“Harry, leave!” she raises her voice, jumping up from the couch, rubbing her face with her hands. “I need to be alone.”

“Don’t shut me out, Y/N. It’s not the end of the world, we’re okay, let’s just talk, please!”

“No,” she shakes her head vigorously. “I-I need to be alone. That’s what I want, I need to figure it out,” she says, but it sounds like she was talking to herself rather than to Harry.

“Figure what out? Just talk to me!” Harry begs her, standing up from the couch, but as soon as he takes a step towards her, she backs away, keeping the distance between them.

“Not now, please not now!” she whispers, a tortured frown on her face.

“If not now, when? I’m trying to be patient, but we just jumped at each other five minutes ago and now you can’t even look at me! I really am trying, but fuck!” he growls, running his hand through his hair that’s got messed up by her finger in the heated moments. “Y/N, we’re married! And you wouldn’t even talk to me anymore! How long are we going to do this?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, shutting her eyes tight.

Harry takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down and regaining composure before he speaks up again, this time with a lot more control over his voice.

“I’ll go now. But I want answers soon, Y/N. Do you understand me?” She nods.

Harry sigh, rubbing his chin as he walks out of the living room to put his shoes on and leave while Y/N keeps standing in the exact same spot. When he’s got his trainers and jacket on again, he is almost out of the house when he turns back.

“We’re married, I vowed to fight with you. But I can’t do that if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be fighting. I still love you and I would do anything for you, Y/N. Let me be your partner or… Or have the guts to leave me. If you want to divorce just say it. Anything is better than being in the dark.”

And with that, he walks out into the storm, leaving Y/N alone, just like she wanted.

It’s no surprise that Harry doesn’t sleep that night. He doesn’t even go near the bedroom, because he knows it would make him lose his mind. Sleeping there on his own has been hard enough these past months, but after last night… he knew he couldn’t take it.

He paces the floor, fills up dozens of pages in his diary vigorously, leaving notes he can’t even make sense out of minutes later. He turns into a hot mess and when he thinks about the last things he told her, he almost throws up.

Divorce.

He’s been ignoring this word like crazy since Y/N has left, because he simply couldn’t accept it was an option for them. She was and still is the love of his life, there was no chance for him to let them end up with ending their marriage.

But the way she’s been pushing him away actively probably broke something in him after having her so close and then losing her just seconds later. The words left his mouth before he even thought them through and he regretted them the moment he stepped out into the rain. Almost turned around to go back and beg her to forget what he said, but he just left.

By the time the sun comes up Harry feels like he has lost all of his sanity and he knows the only thing that would bring him even just the tiniest bit of peace is if he tells her that he will fight for their marriage and won’t just accept defeat that easily.

It’s barely past seven in the morning when he is throwing on a hoodie he found on the floor of the bedroom and he’s frantically looking for his keys that he angrily threw somewhere upon arriving last night, but his search is interrupted by hearing the front door unlocking. He sprints out into the hallway and almost trips in his own feet when he sees that Y/N just walked in with her own keys.

“Uh, I’m sorry, I thought about ringing the bell, but… it felt weird,” she explains, holding up her keys that still has that pink, fluffy keychain Harry bought her years ago.

“No, of course. It’s your home too,” he nods, still taken aback by her presence. “What—Uh, what can I… Are you…”

“I came to talk,” she says, dropping the keys to the side table and then nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of her jumper.

“Great! Amazing, I was… I was actually about to go over to you as well. Come on in, let’s… I’ll make us tea,” he stutters, heading into the kitchen with Y/N following right behind.

He puts on the kettle and she looks around before settling on one of the stools, watching him move around, grabbing her favorite mug and the kind of tea she loves the most.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, when he hands her the warm drink and takes the stool next to hers. Harry decides to just blurt out everything he’s been piling up since the last time they met, starting off with what he said before leaving.

“I don’t want to get a divorce, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I said, I was just… mad and couldn’t think straight. I hope you don’t want it either, whatever we are going through, I hope we can work on it first before we call it quits.”

He is talking fast and he’s nervously fidgeting with his nails and she sees that they are completely bare. Reaching out she takes one of his hands and takes a better look at them.

“Your nails are not painted,” she observes.

“Because you’re the one who paints them. I don’t want anyone else to do it for me,” he softly says and she seems stunned by his words. Letting go of his hand she clears her throat and drops her own hands into her lap, staring down at them.

“I don’t want to get a divorce,” she then says and Harry feels like he can finally breathe for the first time in months. “But… I need changes.”

“Okay, what kind of changes?” he asks, ready to hear her out and do anything just to have her back. She exhales shakily and he can tell how heavy whatever it is that’s weighing down on her.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she admits, her eyes tearing up.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, we can figure it all out.” He slips off his stool and stepping closer he takes her face in his hands, his touch gentle and soft. “Tell me what you know.”

She nods, wetting her lips before taking a deep breath and speaking up again.

“I realized that… I don’t know who I am.” She is talking slow, thinking her words over carefully. “I’ve been Harry Styles’ girlfriend and then wife for so long, I slowly… started to lose myself.”

Sniffing she rubs her eyes before continuing.

“I have been struggling with this for a while, but I couldn’t figure out what exactly this feeling was, I just knew that something was off. We were on the move all the time, traveling the world and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything I got to experience with you. But… It’s all I’ve been doing and… I had plans.”

“Plans?” Harry asks.

“Like, before we met, I wanted to go to college. I wanted to learn and get a degree, but then I met you and we became serious so fast that I felt like I had to follow you to make it work. And… I got stuck in it and put everything else on hold. Now it’s been over seven years and I’ll be thirty soon and didn’t do anything that I wanted before. But then I thought about it… and I realized that I’m not even sure I want them anymore.”

Harry can feel a whirlwind of emotions raging inside him, listening to her, but he keeps his mouth shut and lets her tell everything at once before he speaks.

“I started to question everything. I had to realize that I have no idea what I want, I’ve been just going with the flow for years and I couldn’t even tell anymore who I was. I was the mysterious girl Harry Styles was dating and then I was known as your girlfriend and then your wife… I wasn’t my own person. I was always just Harry Styles’ someone.”

She takes a deep breath, wiping away a tear that escaped her eye before she carries on.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love being with you, I love you, more than anything. But I started to feel like I was just a… carry-on luggage, someone added to you and not an individual above all. Then you brought up trying for a baby and I think it triggered me. I was afraid that I would just become the mother of your child and lose the last pieces of myself, so I did the first thing that came to my mind. I ran.”

She looks up at him and sees how broken he is over her words, finally hearing what you’ve been struggling with all this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? Why didn’t you talk to me about all of these?” he asks in a whisper.

“Because I felt ashamed,” she sighs. “I’m living this amazing life, I travel the world with you, anyone would be lucky to live a life like ours and I’m here…” Her voice dies down and a sob escapes her lips. Harry moves out of instinct, cradling her in his arms as she buries her face into his chest. “I’m here whining about it. I hate myself for this,” she cries into his hoodie.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs softly, holding her tight in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she sobs uncontrollably, fisting his hoodie, holding onto him for dear life.

“I know. It’s alright. Come on, let’s lie down, I bet you didn’t sleep much either, hm? Let’s just get you to bed, you’re barely holding yourself up.”

He softly helps her off the stool and the two of them head up to the bedroom he avoided all night long, but returning with her in his arms feels more right than anything ever before. He sits her to the edge of the mattress and then helps her get comfortable before walking around the bed and taking his usual side. She moves over to him in an instant, her whole body gravitating towards his warmth and he welcomes her in his embrace again gladly, holding her wrapped tight in his arms, right where he thinks she belongs.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” she croaks out, her head lying on his chest that’s rising and falling in a soothing rhythm.

“No. Not at all. I just wish you talked to me instead of fleeing.”

“I thought I had to think things through away from you,” she admits.

“Why? Are you scared to talk to me?” Harry asks, his heart breaking at the thought of his own wife not trusting him enough to tell him what’s been bothering her.

“I’m not scared. I just… I honestly don’t know. I was afraid I would just talk myself out of it and dig myself deeper into this hole… I was afraid that I would want to please you so badly, I would agree to anything.”

“Like having a baby,” Harry adds, mostly disappointed in himself that he didn’t notice a thing of what was happening right in front of his nose.

He should have thought about her, she’s been bending her own life around his since the very beginning, always the one to work her schedule to fit his and he never even questioned it. He’s been a selfish bastard. He remembers her telling him about wanting to go to college when they first met, but then she didn’t mention it again and he just assumed she changed her mind. He assumed way too many things. That traveling around the world is all she wanted, that she was fine with the way she’s been perceived by the public, that she was fine with living the life he chose but she was just pushed into. So many things that he just turned a blind eye to, only because he loved having her with him all the time.

He feels like he failed as a husband, a partner, a lover.

“I do want to have a baby with you, Harry,” she speaks up, pulling him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. “But I don’t think I could be a good mother when I’m so lost about myself.” Her words turn into another sob as she starts crying again and Harry tightens his hold around her.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. You need to rest, we can talk more when you wake up,” he breathes out, placing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. She doesn’t protest or tries to talk more, and only minutes later Harry notices her body relaxing, her breathing evening.

She fell asleep.

Though Harry could use some sleep himself too, he can’t get his eyes to even close. He lies awake for god knows how long until he carefully gets out of bed, tucks her in and heads downstairs to let Y/N get some rest while he is raking his mind for an excuse why he let all of this happen knowing well he won’t find any.

He has never felt more ashamed in his life and it’s been like several slaps across his face, listening to everything Y/N just shared with him. He let his wife suffer alone and didn’t notice a thing for so long, while he happily lived his rockstar life and dragged her along without second guessing.

Hours pass by and she is still asleep when Harry decides to call Sarah. He sits by the kitchen counter, leaning onto the countertop as he holds the phone to his ear with a permanent frown on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” she answers the phone and he immediately hears James’ playful babbling in the background.

“So you have a minute to talk?” he asks, not wanting to interrupt on precious family time.

“Of course, give me a sec.” She tells something to probably Mitch before moving to a different room where she can talk comfortably. “Alright, I’m listening.”

“I fucked up, Sarah, and I didn’t even notice a thing.”

Sarah stays silent on the other end of the call before speaking up.

“She told you.”

“Yeah. We had… Some things happened last night and in the heat of the moment I told her to have the guts to tell me if she wants a divorce. I didn’t mean it, so I was getting ready to go over and talk to her in the morning when she showed up here and told me everything. Now I feel like the biggest idiot in the world and I have no idea how to make it right.”

“Do you want my honest advice and opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Don’t make it about yourself. Yes, you made mistakes, she did too by not speaking up, but this is about her. What you just said, I only heard you talk about yourself. Focus on how you can help her finding herself and getting comfortable in her own life again instead of putting yourself into the spotlight.”

And just like that, it’s another slap across his face again. He knows Sarah is right and that she just gave him a pill that’s probably the hardest to swallow. He can’t turn this on him, he needs to put all his energy into helping Y/N find her peace again.

“You’re right,” he whispers, closing his eyes.

“I know it’s hard. She is going through a crisis where she is questioning all of her decisions, even the ones she made about you. But it’s normal and you’ll just have to support her through it, let her figure it all out without bringing yourself into the equation. You’ve been the center of her life for almost a decade, you have to accept that might change a little, but that doesn’t mean she won’t love or need you anymore.”

“Fuck, Sarah, when did you become a therapist?” he chuckles sadly, her words weighing on his chest heavily. “Did you go through something like this too?”

“Kind of. It’s hard to keep in touch with yourself when so much is happening around you. I had my own doubts about Mitch and our life too, but here I am, happily married with a baby. You’ll get through it too, you love each other and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

They talk a little more before her mom duties call her. Harry takes some time to reflect on everything he’s learned and tries his best to get himself into the right mindset to start this long process he is facing.

When Y/N wakes up he is right next to her, sitting against the headboard, scrolling on his phone. When he sees her sleepy face, he puts the phone aside and lies down on his side to face her.

“You didn’t sleep?” she asks groggily, rubbing her eyes.

“No. I had a lot to think about.”

She opens her mouth, but then closes, scooting closer to him.

“I’m so sorry, H. I didn’t react the right way and should have talked to you instead of running away.”

“Don’t apologize. We… we both made mistakes. We should talk about how we could move forward, yeah?”

She nods.

“First of all… Do you think you’re ready to come home? I really… I miss you, Y/N.”

“I miss you too and I want to come home. I thought I would be able to think clearer if I’m away from you, but it’s been hell.”

“Alright,” he nods relieved. “We can get your stuff today and move it all back.”

“That would be amazing,” she smiles weakly.

“I talked to Jeff while you were asleep. I can’t cancel the upcoming tour, but we talked about a longer break afterwards.”

“How long?”

“However much time we need, baby.”

“I don’t want to keep you away from your career.”

“You are my priority, Y/N. You spend years of your life dedicated to me. If I have to take time off from my career to make sure you’re okay… I won’t hesitate for a moment.”

“B-But I still don’t know what I should do…”

“It’s okay. We will figure it out and then I’ll make sure we can do whatever we have to do.”

She is touched by the way Harry is treating her. She was afraid she did irreversible damage to their relationship by leaving, but here he is, being so patient and accepting with her even after she shut him out so violently.

Moving closer she kisses him to show her gratitude, they wrap around each other, feeling contented that they are finally reunited. It’s all they both have been yearning for and this is where they belong.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips.

“I love you too,” he hums back. “I want to make you happy Y/N. That’s all I want, let me make you happy.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you. I just need to be happy with myself too.”

“Let me help you with that. You’re my everything, baby. Let me take care of you the way you always take care of me. I will always love you and nothing can change that.”

She just quietly nods, swallowing back a few of her tears before pressing her lips against his again and again and again, making up for all the time they lost.

Harry Styles is making a comeback!

The thirty years old singer is finally back in the business after spending two years away from the spotlight. When Styles announced his break from work in 2022 fans were terrified it’s going to be another never ending hiatus that ended One Direction back in the days. The singer wrote a heartfelt note to his dedicated fans that was posted on his Instagram, which has been silent ever since, talking about taking time to focus on his private life, family and friends. The announcement came right after he finished touring his third studio album and rumors were spreading about his marriage before he hit the road, talking about alleged cheating and a possible divorce from his longtime lover, Y/N Y/L/N.

However, the couple debunked those theories when Y/L/N was caught joining Styles on the first part of his tour. A source close to them confirmed that she returned to London earlier than her husband to enroll into King’s College London and start her bachelor studies.

The couple was caught several times during the singer’s hiatus strolling around London alone or with friends, seemingly making the best out of their time off duty. Styles has not made any official appearances since his last show and word has been traveling around the internet that even when he comes back, he will be slowing things down, making more time for his family.

At midnight last Monday a countdown showed up on his official website, followed by his first ever post on his Instagram since his break. It has not been confirmed, whether it’ll be a new album or just a single, but it’s been enough for fans to wake up from hibernation and pull out their colorful boas from their closet. The countdown is expected to hit zero at four pm on Friday. Stay tuned to find out more about the latest news about Britain’s number one man!

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

2K notes · View notes

jadeittic · 2 years

Text

HS + Y/I: 2022 (SERIES)

EXTRA (1)

NEXT.

HARRY STYLES + PLATONIC!EX-1D MEMBER!FEM!READER

WARNING: swearing, and it's an ig au post!

imiss1d

liked by username, and 178,261 others

imiss1d yn ln and harry styles seen walking to the same diner! getting new yn and harry content soon?

view all 42,167 comments

username yn in her daily fashion routine then theres harry 🤭

username we are THIS close to getting a reunion from these two i swear

username SO PROUD TO BE A YN GIRL

username my yn and harry obsession is going wild again guys

username THEY BOTH LOOK SO GOOD??? WE ARE GETTING FED

username stop the shirt shes wearing is zayns 🤕

ynleaks

liked by username, and 71,251 others

ynleaks yn ln seen leaving harry styles’ studio this morning!

view all 38,721 comments

username OKAY OKAY NOW IM SURE WE WILL GET A REUNION

username drop the pictures yn

username other than that her outfit is SUCH A BEAUT

username I LOVE HER AND HARRY SO MUCH

username okay cute now drop the song

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, mitchrowland, and 5,186,419 others

harrystyles Hashbrown

view all 271,516 comments

username now what is this harry 🤠

username i just know this is related to a new song

yourinstagram cute artwork!

username WHAT

username PLEASE DONT GET MY HOPES UP HARRY

username im literally gonna throw hands if their collaboration isnt real

yourinstagram

liked by sadiesink, pillowpersonpp, and 5,179,372 others

yourinstagram eggyolk, i will always love you :-)

view all 271,637 comments

username NO FUCKING WAY YN.

username wait omg- i need a second- what the fuck 🧍🏻‍♂️

username IM SURE WE WILL GET A YN AND HARRY REUNION

harrystyles Hey I cooked that!

yourinstagram couldve been better though

username CRYINF I LOVE THEM

username DROP THE SONG DROP THE SONG

celebnews

liked by mitchrowland, username, and 65,178 others

celebnews yn ln and harry styles rumored to be having an album collaboration this year!

view all 29,716 comments

username MITCH LIKED EVERYONE.

username I AM LIVING FOR THIS I WANT THIS

username manifesting this to be true 🕯️🕯️🕯️

username MY TWO FAVS BACK TOGETHER AGAIN? YES PLEEEAAAASEEEE

username i want the band back together 😔😔😔😔😔😔

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, username, and 8,721,193 others

harrystyles HS + Y/I

view all 301,217 comments

noahschnapp NEW FAVORITE ALBUM HELLO?

username IM GONNA CRY

niallhoran 🤍!!

harrystyles 💕

yourinstagram louist91 zayn who talks in emojis

louist91 idiots do

zayn imagine being boring

username NOT THEM LEAVING LIAM OUT

username louis yn n zayn = holy trinity

username im not okay i miss them SO FUCKING MUCH

florencepugh please introduce me to her

username I HAVE BEEN WAITINGFOR THIS

username this photo. yn you are such a goddess

yourinstagram coming soon?

username I CANT WAIT!!!!

zendaya blasting this album 24/7 when this comes out

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fake ig #harry styles instagram blurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x you #harry styles instagram au #HS + Y/I #jadeittic

674 notes · View notes

laf-outloud · 7 months

Note

I love Jared and no content will be enough for me, but these are the BEST years (kids still young, parents still around, he and Gen are young enough to be active with kids and parents together), Gen is his very real rock & his family is that rare thing called tightly knit, and I'm overjoyed he's choosing to make memories every day surrounded by these wonderful people's unconditional love. I will never forget the picture he tweeted after we nearly lost him. It was Gen and Tom and Shep and their dog crouched on a raft or boat on a lake, all of them looking at the water, and she was framed beautifully, and he captioned it "Happiness: found". He deserves the world. He's given us so MUCH in terms of taking Sam's story super seriously (but not himself), speaking out for mental health & against the stigma, and giving so much of his limited mental health resources to fans at cons & elsewhere. He's never mocked even the eccentric fans, he has held up when ppl dumped trauma on him even though he's already struggling every single day. He has done and continues to do so much. He deserves the WORLD & knowing he's living amidst the people who really love him warms my heart and makes up for any decrease in content. I love Walker for the story but more for the fact that he broke away from the SPN abuse and now gets to work in his town, with ppl like Keegan and Mitch who speak adoringly (and rightly so) of him. He deserves everything good this world could offer. I love him so much and I hope he continues to conquer mental illness -- that's what he called us (ppl with mental illness) years ago, conquerors. So yeah, if he wants to cut back, I support him 100%.

This is an absolutely beautiful post, anon. Thank you, dearly!

#ask box #jared padalecki #jared padalecki appreciation #jared's gifts to the world #jared's convention appearances #lovely anon

52 notes · View notes

fallingforel · 11 months

Note

prompt 22 with harry styles please?? xx

a/n I really hope you like it, because I personally love this one. also if you would like to request a prompt the list is here.

PROMPT 22: "you smell nice"

It was a casual day for Harry and I we don't have many of these with him being so busy especially with him recently finishing his album and then going straight onto Love On Tour round 2 he had recently finished his american leg, so naturally we were in LA chilling at his house.

"morning beautiful" Harry errupted from my side noticing I had woken up, Harry and I's love language was Tender Touching and loving pet names. So of course this made me blush, even though we had been in an established relationship by now.

"Harry, you have really got stop staring at me while I sleep it's creepy, not to mention how I'm not beautiful" "please you are the most beautiful woman in the world, I would rather have you over anyone any day" "really? even with bedhead? no make up? no eyelashes?" "If I had it my way... you wouldn't need any of that because your at your prettiest when your natural and just lounging around in your hoodie joggers and glasses. I love you so much Y/n and I wish I had you all to myself" chuckling at his answer knowing it simply possibly couldn't be true. "seriously? H that can't possibly be true." "it is and I plan every sense of the way showing you it, for eternity my love"

"stop it your too sweet" I say before scooting over to kiss him to my hearts content with no peeping eyes, to look at us judge us slap our faces on every tabloid imaginable. He reciprocated the kiss putting the same amount if not more love into it, I could really tell that he loved me when I was at my worst and it just proved that he was in it for the long run, I say that like he hasn't been with me for a healthy amount of years.

Breaking from the kiss I ask him "so darling H, what are the plans for today?" "I thought we could take a drive, then go have a nice picnic in the sun just us, mitch and I found the most secluded place the other week, I'd love to take you there sweetheart." "that would be so lovely H, I'd love it. Be nice just us. I've been looking forward to going into hiding for ages" "all in due course my love all in due course. We have to have breakfast first. Yoghurt?" he says adding in the question on the end. "Yoghurt." I say confirming what I wanted. He gets up and I try to follow, "no darling stay here I'll bring it to you" he says coming round to my side of the bed and giving me a chaste kiss on the lips.

And we had yoghurt with honey, raspberries, strawberries and honey. it was so lovely and perfect for the hot weather that comes with living in LA. After we had finished our breakfasts, I went and made my way to go and get changed for our picnic while Harry sorted out which food we were taking and drinks as well which didn't take him too long he then came and joined me upstairs getting ready himself.

Making my way downstairs I see Harry stood at the door looking me up and down. "God you truely are gorgeous" I had gone with the most natural look I thought was possibly considering it was in the 30s of celcius heat and I didn't particularly want to cake myself in a load of makeup. "stop it you" "what? I can't love on my girlfriend?" he asks stepping towards me and putting his hands on my waist moving mine up to go around his shoulders. "yeah, I suppose you can, god you smell nice. What is that? Did you get a new cologne, finally switch out MY gucci one" "HEY! it's not my fault I wanted to smell like you, you also smell good" "mmh sure H. What is it anyway?" "hold on I have it written here in my notes it's called "Tom ford, Tobacco vanille, you should wear it some day" "no thanks I'll stick to my gucci one thank you, god I love you H." "I love you too y/n/n"

a/n I really hope you liked it, because I personally love this one.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles boyfriend

99 notes · View notes

veronicaphoenix · 24 days

Text

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: nightmares, implied ptsd, angst, fluff, comfort, Noah being the perfect boyfriend best friend | Word count: 2.1k | Cross posted on AO3 | Series masterpost. ✧.*

"Sometimes, it amazed me how easy it was to make her happy, how simple life had to be to get her to genuinely smile."

Lia’s hands were dirty with wet soil.

The day before, at the grocery store, she had picked up gloves and a few gardening tools. Today, she was planting the seeds she had picked up and that she had added to the pile of items I had to carry in my arms. When I had complained again, Lia had just shrugged her shoulders and pointed out that I had long arms, so I’d have to deal with it. I just rolled my eyes.

That early morning, she did wear the gloves when she started working in the back garden of the house, but soon abandoned them because she said they dulled her sense of touch, preventing her from feeling the soil, the plants, or the petals of the flowers.

I stayed close by, engaged in a conversation with her for a while. I was curious about her gardening choices, observing her focused efforts as she worked in different areas of the garden. It was refreshing to see her absorbed in the task, providing a temporary respite from the worries that plagued her day and night, especially at night.

After pouring us each a glass of orange juice and having a little argument with Lia because she asked me to bring her a beer can instead, I settled into one of the hammocks on the porch, sunglasses and headphones on.

As usual, time seemed to slip away whenever I lay there, under the sun. I was granted a rare moment of peace for the first time in weeks.

Lia continued her gardening nearby, moving from one end of the garden to the other with dedication. Despite my music, I caught snippers of her conversation with the flowers, which brought a smile to my face. It was such a tranquil morning, marred only by the lingering shadow of Lia’s past with Mitch.

When a sudden black cloud obscured the sun, I removed my sunglasses and headphones, standing up to assess the changing weather.

Lia sat cross-legged in the center of the garden, crafting a flower crown, triggering memories of that day in her mother’s house, when I was fifteen and she was fourteen. I recalled that day, when we were just teenagers and I had had to explain to her why I had decided to drop out of school. With her sad eyes looking straight into mine, I suggested she could move in with me and Mike when she turned eighteen. I had stayed the night with her, and we had woken up together. A slight blush kept up my cheeks as I remembered what had transpired that morning between us.

Trying to shake off the memory, I called out to her.

“Hey, princess.”

Lia’s head snapped up, a smile playing on her lips as she seemed to be recalling the same memory, the moment I placed the daisy crown on her head more than a decade ago.

“How does it look?” she inquired, motioning towards the flowers she had planted in clusters around the garden.

“I might just hire you as my private gardener,” I quipped, though the garden truly seemed rejuvenated, as if life had just brought by a sudden miracle.

I found it ironic how Lia, navigating through her own struggles, had this knack for bringing life and light to her surroundings, including me.

“I must tell you, my services are quite expensive,” she teased, rising and brushing soil from her knees.

“I’d pay with my soul,” I replied, eliciting a tender smile from her. The sunlight illuminated her face, lending her a healthier glow as the bruises on her skin seemed to be fading. I hoped her heart would heal as her body did.

When it came to my split lip, it still hurt, but it was also getting better.

“I’m serious. It looks amazing,” I told her, surveying her handiwork. “How’s the crown coming along?” I asked, nodding towards the floral creation in her hands.

“Hmm,” Lia’s smile flattered momentarily as she focused on the string of flowers. “I’ve lost practice,” she admitted. I could feel the sadness in her voice.

“Need a hand?” I offered.

Lia raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re not exactly skilled at making flower crowns, Noah.”

Raising my hands, feigning offense, I replied, “All right, Flower Queen. I was just trying to be helpful.”

“I wasn’t teasing you,” she clarified. “It’s just a fact.”

“I know…” It was true. I had no freaking clue as to how to make a flower crown, not even after so many years of having a flower enthusiast as my best friend. “So, what’s on the agenda today? What do you feel like doing? Do you want to go to the Botanical Gardens?” I suggested. “We could spend some time walking around, grab a hot chocolate from the café, and maybe pick up a few more plants.”

“Aren’t you tired of flowers?” Lia questioned, probably concerned about me.

“Who could ever tire of flowers?” I exclaimed, swinging my leg over the hammock to stand. I collected our drinks, ready to return them to the kitchen. “Flowers are fucking pretty. I could never get enough, even if I’m hopeless at making crowns.”

“You’re just saying that to keep me happy,” Lia countered. She couldn’t hide the tiny smile peeking from her lips, though.

“I’d say anything to keep you happy, but no, I actually mean those words. Flowers rock. Now go take a quick shower, and let’s go to the Botanical Gardens. I’ll see if Jesse wants to join us.”

The botanical garden adventure turned out to be a more delightful experience than I expected. A new section had recently opened, and Lia’s excitement bubbled over as we explored it thoroughly. She was so fascinated by the new multitude of plants that she left Jesse and me trailing behind her, lost in our chatter about work and music.

When she ventured further ahead, Jesse lowered his voice and asked me about her well-being. I hesitated before responding because the truth was that I wasn’t sure. At times she looked… okay. Other times, I would hear her or catch her crying. I had no clue if a pain like the one she carried could ever disappear; if a wound like that could ever be mended.

During our time there, I noticed Lia occasionally drifting into moments of distraction, her smile fading as troubling thoughts crept in. Sensing her vulnerability, I made a point to stay close, wrapping an arm around her shoulder whenever I sensed her faltering. Redirecting her attention, I guided her to the next exhibit, peppering her with random questions about the flora, to which she surprisingly had all the answers. Lia's depth of knowledge was captivating, and I wasn't the only one to notice. Jesse, too, was struck by Lia's genuine passion for nature and flowers. It was heartwarming to witness how she retained that childhood love amidst her life's challenges.

Standing outside the cafeteria, positioned on the elevated area overseeing the gardens, I waited for Jesse to return from the restrooms and for Lia to pick up her hot chocolate from the counter inside the café. As I glanced at the sky, latte in hand, I felt grateful for the brightness of the day. Suddenly, Lia’s arms wrapped around me from behind, squeezing me tightly as her head nestled against my back. Some coffee spilled from my cup, and a bit of chocolate dripped from the one she held in her left hand.

“Lia, Christ,” I exclaimed, turning around to face her, taken aback by the sudden unexpected affection. With a sheepish grin, she released her hold, cheeks flushed.

“Sorry, that was… awkward,” Lia mumbled, her apology hanging in the air.

“No, not at all,” I reassured her, reaching out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It was rather lovely,” I added, a warm smile gracing my lips. “You feeling alright?”

Her response came accompanied by a slight shake of the hot chocolate cup in her hand. “Now I am, yes,” Lia replied, her smile returning.

Sometimes, it amazed me how easy it was to make her happy, how simple life had to be to get her to genuinely smile.

Before long, Jesse joined us, his hand ruffling through his hair as he adjusted his glasses. “You’re all set?” he asked, casting a glance at the drinks we held.

“Yep,” we replied in unison.

“Great. My mom’s birthday is coming up. I thought I’d browse the shop for some plants before we leave,” Jesse announced. “Maybe Lia can give me some advice?”

“Sure,” she agreed readily.

“She’ll do that gladly,” I mumbled. “She’s going to give herself some advice, too.”

“And pick out a few more plants for the garden,” she added, a playful grin dancing on her face as she strolled alongside us.

Sure enough, Lia ended up selecting a couple of pots of pelargonium, gardenias, and some bamboo sticks, envisioning how they would complement the minimalist aesthetic of my room. As Lia and Jesse explored the shop, leaving me behind to wonder why the fuck some plants were so weird, they discussed which flowers would be best suited for Jesse's mom. Lia shared her expertise on which blooms would last longest indoors and explained the symbolic meanings behind each flower and color. Jesse listened attentively, deciding. He finally selected a thoughtful assortment of white and orange plants that he hoped his mom would like.

Later that day, back in the comfort of the house, the three of us settled in to tackle some work. Jesse attended to his band obligations, handling a few phone calls and online meetings while Lia and I retreated to the studio.

The gentle sound of pencils scratching on paper and crayons on textured surfaces served as a comforting backdrop to the tunes I was playing on one of my guitars. Having Lia nearby, even in her quiet presence, felt good; I definitely preferred her close where I could sense her mood rather than distant and out of reach. I didn’t want to find her locked in the bathroom crying her eyes out and feeling guilty for what had happened to her.

It hadn’t been her fault, and while I didn’t mind reminding her of that as many times as necessary, I didn’t want her to dwell on those thoughts alone. I believed it was healthier for her to externalize her feelings and emotions through lyrics or drawings.

Midafternoon, I took a brief break to make coffee and grab a snack, taking the time to check the messages on my phone —a few from Jolly, another bunch from other friends and work— and give Matt a call.

Lia joined me in the kitchen just as I was in the midst of the conversation, gesturing for me to pass her the phone when I was finished. In the meantime, she retrieved a beer from the fridge.

When she spoke with Matt —and I entertained myself chewing on chocolate-chip cookies—, her tone seemed overly cheerful, which was odd. Somehow, she decided it would be a good idea for all of us to meet on Saturday night, grab some pizzas, and spend some time together as we used to do. With Jolly’s return scheduled for Friday, Lia asked for my approval. I could only shrug and reply with a casual “yeah”. If it meant she could relax and enjoy the company of our friends, then I was fully supportive.

As the day melted into evening, the house overflowed with tranquility. The strumming of the guitar filled the air, punctuated by the occasional recording breaks to capture snippets of sound for an on-going musical project. Meanwhile, Lia was deeply engrossed in her creative zone, sitting on the sofa facing the desk where I was sat at. She was working with a pen and a worn-out notebook in hand, sketching designs and penning songs’ lyrics with a focus that made her bit her lip. Every once in a while she would lift her head and make a comment about the sounds coming out from the speakers, complimenting the music I was creating. There was something so undeniably comforting about being in this creative bubble together, just doing our thing and enjoying each other’s company.

We vibed off each other’s energy effortlessly. It was like we were in sync, riding the same wavelength of inspiration. It felt like home.

At quarter to seven, Lia rose from the sofa, stretching her arms and humming, and placed a few sheets of paper on the desk beside the keyboard.

“There. Take a look. They’re not my best work, but I think they might work for a t-shirt design," she casually said, enthusiasm lacking her tone.

The sheets were filled with new drawings —roses, daggers, demons—, potential additions to our merchandise lineup.

Before I could respond, she left the studio, mentioning something about grabbing another beer and preparing dinner.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic

20 notes · View notes