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farfromtommy · 16 days ago

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this time of year

pairing: friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've kept your feelings for your friend, steve rogers, quiet for years—but when you're at the holiday market with your whole group of friends, some things come to light, and you don't think you can keep pretending you don't desperately want him anymore.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, light angst, smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), piv sex, protection, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, kissing, making out, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine), aftercare, happily ever after—this is probably the most vanilla sex i've written in a while but it's still porn with feelings.

word count: 11.9k

a/n: my first entry for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, and it's technically still december 1 where i live (just barely)!!! i used the prompt "Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?" and had an idea i really liked and just ran with it! i promise most of my december fics won't be 10k+ words—mainly because i don't think i'd survive it 😅 but i hope y'all enjoy this soft and sweet and smutty start to december!! ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

Teasing tingles of chill danced across your skin as the crisp December wind brushed against your cheeks, making you huddle deeper into the warmth of your winter coat. You pushed your hands deeper into your pockets, but it didn’t do much. You’d forgotten your mittens, and your fingers felt nearly frozen.

It didn’t help that you and your friends had been meandering through one of the city’s holiday market for more than a few hours, the cold of the evening sinking deep into your bones. Unfortunately, there were only so many cups of hot chocolate one person could consume before they made themselves sick, and you’d reached that limit.

Still, you were having fun—too much fun to complain about the cold or to try to beg off early. That was why you smiled as you watched your best friend, Yelena Belova, duck into one of the market stalls, her green eyes going wide as they raked over the vendor’s display of knives.

You trailed a little slowly behind the rest of your friends—Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers—beneath the pop-up tent, distracted by the chill in your fingers as you rubbed them against your body through the material of your coat, trying to get them warm.

The wintry wind cut through the market again and, despite the trembling of your body, you smiled as you breathed in the scent of it. Beneath the pine smell from the evergreen trees being sold at the big tent near the entrance and the swirling richness of buttery baked goods, there was a fresh scent that made you turn your face upward.

Gray clouds were rolling in overhead, blotting out the deep navy of the evening sky, and you knew, deep in your bones, that it was going to snow. A smile curled the edges of your lips and you let your eyes fall closed as you breathed in that fresh scent of oncoming snow.

You loved this time of year because you loved the snow.

Everything about it conjured up memories of sitting by a crackling fire, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the beautiful flakes fall from the sky and dust everything in a perfect wintry cloak. You could spend hours sitting by a window, watching the snow come down, and you were suddenly looking forward to doing just that once you got home that evening.

When you finally opened your eyes and turned away from the sky, you found Steve lingering in the entrance of the tent where your friends were browsing, an intensity in his gaze as he looked at you. He didn’t look away when you caught him staring, simply held your gaze, letting you see the heat swirling in the depths of his bright blue eyes.

That heat had begun appearing in Steve’s eyes more and more when he looked at you, and you knew it had started after a certain night at the bar your friends frequented a few weeks prior. But you’d been determinedly ignoring that look in Steve’s eyes ever since that night—just like you’d been ignoring what exactly had happened between the two of you.

As fast as the memory of that night sprang to mind, you shoved it aside, reminding yourself that there was no use in dredging it up. What you and Steve had done that night had the potential to ruin all of your relationships, and no matter how much you might’ve wanted reenact the night at the bar, your friend group was too important to you to risk it.

Even after years of knowing them, you still felt like your addition to the group was precarious because you’d joined so much later. Steve, Bucky, Nat and Yelena had all known each other since they were teenagers, and you’d only met them in your early twenties. You’d sat near Yelena at your first job after college, and it had been best friends at first sight—or, at first snarky comment, anyway.

She’d adopted you as her best friend and introduced you to the others since you were new to the city and didn’t know anyone. You’d liked Steve from the moment you met him, but you’d kept a tight lid on your crush since you were more concerned about fitting into the group as seamlessly as possible, and you figured following your feelings would unnecessarily rock the boat.

Still, despite your intention of taking your crush on Steve to your grave, you couldn’t ignore the way he’d grown into himself as you all had gotten older.

Gone was the boy-next-door blond hair and clean-shaven face of the man you’d first met. Steve’s hair had darkened and he’d recently let it grow long enough that it was beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. He’d also grown out his beard, keeping it thick but neatly trimmed.

Steve had also, somewhere along the way, learned how to dress his tall form—and do it well.

That night at the holiday market, he’d worn light gray slacks, a dark charcoal sweater that you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against to see if it was as soft as it looked, and a black wool overcoat. It was an outfit that had you nearly drooling when you’d met up with your friends, unable to tear your eyes away from how Steve’s broad shoulders and trim waist filled out the clothes.

Despite the chill of the evening, Steve hadn’t seemed the least bit cold, and you’d caught yourself thinking more than once how warm it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms. Your fingers would never have gotten so miserably frozen if you’d snuck them beneath Steve’s coat or in his pockets…

With a start, you realized you’d been staring back at Steve for a long, lingering moment, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—though, at that moment, you were struggling to figure out what exactly the wrong idea was—so you ducked your head and pretended like you were bundling deeper into your coat as you made to move past him into the tent.

“Are you alright, sunshine?” Steve asked as you passed him, his hand landing gently on your arm. Even through your coat, you could feel the warmth of his touch; it made you pause and glance up at him.

You realized your mistake immediately. You were too close to Steve—far too close. So close you could smell the rich, masculine scent of his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. It made you want to bury your face in his neck and inhale deeply, to wrap yourself up in his warmth until your bones didn’t even remember what the cold felt like.

“I-I’m ok,” you said in a shaky voice, more rattled by Steve’s closeness than the December wind cutting through the city, and you dropped your gaze to the gold pendant around his neck.

It glinted in the soft light of the market stall, and you remembered it had been a gift from his Irish Catholic mother. You used the memory of Steve telling you about the pendant to ground yourself and your voice came out stronger.

“Just cold.”

“D’you want some more hot chocolate?” Steve asked, and there was a hopeful note in his tone, like he was offering to get it for you, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Any more and I think my body will be more hot chocolate than water,” you joked, trying to ignore the emotions swirling in your chest like snowflakes on a wintry gale.

When Steve chuckled, you couldn’t help but look back up at him, finding his blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, affection clear in the lines of his face.

Slowly, his smile eased into something else—something heavier, an expression that was almost yearning. It made the fluttering flakes in your chest swirl more frenziedly while a warmth bloomed somewhere lower, throbbing more to life the longer Steve looked at you with those darkened blue eyes. His expression spoke of things you’d never dare give voice to.

For another long moment, you and Steve just stared at each other, standing too close just inside the canopy of the vendor at the holiday market. A tension you refused to acknowledge crackled in the air around you.

Of their own volition, your eyes dropped to Steve’s mouth, his lower lip looking so soft and pink amid the dark brown of his beard. For what felt like the millionth time in the last few weeks, ever since that night at the bar, you imagined kissing him—how soft his mouth would be, how warm and inviting, and the feel of his rough beard rasping over your cheeks.

“Hey Steve, c’mere!”

Natasha’s call finally broke the spell that had fallen over you and Steve, and you jumped back, only in that moment realizing how close you’d been. Close enough that when you ducked your head and turned away from him, making your way over to Yelena and Bucky, that you missed Steve’s warmth almost immediately.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to ease the tension and whirling emotions in your chest, and slid between your friends, who were still looking at the knives on sale. Looping one arm through Yelena’s, you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, taking comfort in your friends’ warmth, even if it wasn’t as soothing as Steve’s had been.

“Both of you already have too many knives,” you said by way of a greeting. Your comment made both of them snort derisively, which made you smirk since it had been your intention to get a reaction out of them.

“There’s no such thing,” Yelena scoffed, tearing her eyes away from a double-edged dagger with an engraved handle to glance sideways at you. Her gaze met yours and then slid over your shoulder.

You followed it to where Natasha and Steve’s heads were ducked together. They were standing near a display of jewelry and you figured Nat was helping Steve pick out a Christmas present for someone, though you couldn’t think of who. You frowned.

“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”

Bucky’s gruff question drew you out of your thoughts of trying to remember someone in Steve’s life who he might be buying jewelry for, and you looked at your friend. Without even seeing your reflection, you knew confusion was written plainly across your face.

“What?” you asked, a little sharper than you’d intended, but you didn’t appreciate the implication that you were making Steve miserable.

Bucky cut his eyes to you, then slid them to Yelena, giving your best friend a pointed look. You spun your head around to your other side in time to watch Yelena’s mouth flatten into a reproachful frown.

Suddenly, you got the distinct impression that your friends were having an argument about you, though you couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could be about, except that it had something to do with Steve.

It took a moment of silent arguing before Yelena and Bucky seemed to come to an agreement. Yelena looked at you, a gentle expression on her face that made your stomach drop with anxiety—which only worsened when she put her free hand on your arm that was still looped through hers.

However, before she could voice whatever bad news she clearly had to tell you, Bucky cut in.

“You know no one would be upset if you and Steve dated, right?” he asked bluntly, his eyes intense and searching when you turned to look at him. “We all know you like each other.”

If you’d been drinking hot chocolate at that moment, you would’ve spit it out all over Bucky and the display of pretty decorative knives.

Thankfully, you weren’t. But you still managed to sputter and open your mouth repeatedly while you searched for the words to address the preposterousness of Bucky’s statement.

“I do not—”

Whatever weak protest you were going to utter was cut short when Yelena blurted, “We know you kissed.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, the snowflakes that had been fluttering in your chest when you’d been standing with Steve sharpened into icy daggers of unease. You whirled on your best friend. “Pardon?”

“I saw you guys at the bar that night—I went back to get my scarf…” Yelena explained quickly, having the good grace to look apologetic, both for what she’d seen and for bringing it up. “I know you’ve liked Steve for ages, even if you haven’t said anything,” she rushed on, as if she thought if she spoke fast enough, it would make it easier to hear. “I was so excited it was finally happening that I blurted it out to Nat and she told Bucky—we were just so happy for you both.”

You floundered again, your mouth opening and closing as you processed your best friend’s words. It was almost too much to take in. Not only did everyone know what had happened between you and Steve that night at the bar, but it hadn’t changed anything. You’d told yourself for years that nothing could happen between you and Steve because it would throw off the whole balance of the group, but something had happened and it hadn’t done anything.

“I—”

Again, you were cut off, though it was seemingly Bucky’s turn, and your head swiveled back to him on your other side, feeling a bit like a broken bobblehead.

“He’s liked you too, for what it’s worth,” Bucky said. Your face must’ve conveyed disbelief because he went on. “He’s been talking about you since Yelena first introduced you to everyone, but he didn’t know how you felt,” he said, cutting his eyes to Yelena with the barest hint of a glare, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Hearing that Steve liked you was officially too much for you to bear. The dawning realization that you could’ve been with Steve without risking your friendships with Yelena, Bucky and Nat was like a yawning, desolate chasm waiting to swallow you whole. You’d lost so much time because you were so afraid of losing them all, and it hurt—it hurt enough that it took you a moment to realize Yelena was talking again.

“We thought someone had finally made a move, but then you guys were pretending like nothing happened,” she was saying, and you turned back to her, your mind so overwhelmed that you no longer felt cold, only numb. “None of us wanted to bring it up because, y’know, I wasn’t supposed to have seen it.” She shot you an apologetic grimace before plowing on, her expression turning gentle again. “You know we’d never stop being your friends, even if something happened with you and Steve, right?”

Your heart was racing, the fear of change quickly eclipsing the fear of losing any more time with Steve. You’d been friends with Yelena, Bucky, Nat and Steve for so long that you couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if the two of you started dating—let alone what might happen if you broke up. Shaking your head, you refused to acknowledge Yelena’s assurance. Even if they’d still be friends with you, nothing would be the same.

“Nothing happened,” you said vehemently, even as you choked on the words, the lie tasting like ash on your tongue. But you couldn’t seem to stop. “We were drunk, it meant nothing.”

But then Bucky—blunt, too-perceptive Bucky—broke into your thoughts and pulled you up short with another simple question.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, his tone not unkind.

You opened your mouth to snap a quick answer, but the ‘yes’ died in your throat. Because of course something had happened, and of course it meant everything.

For the first time in weeks, you gave yourself permission to remember that night.

You’d tried to forget it—forget the softness of Steve’s lips on yours, forget the heat of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, forget the pleasant scrape of his beard against your skin and the gentle way he’d held your face as he deepened the kiss.

Your first kiss with Steve Rogers had been glorious and messy and too short and too perfect—and it had meant everything to you.

But then you remembered what had happened after, the way you’d pulled away, even though you’d been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place, and panicked as soon as your mind had caught up with what you’d done.

The rest of the memory was a blur, the anxiety of the moment softening the edges, but you distinctly remembered extricating yourself from Steve—which had felt a little like cutting off a limb—before telling him it was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again.

Back at the market, you buried your face in your hands, and almost sobbed at the memory. “I’ve already ruined things,” you mumbled miserably into your frozen fingers, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

Bucky made a humming noise, as if he was considering your words. “Whatever happened between you two, it hasn’t changed Steve’s feelings for you,” he said, squeezing your wrist gently until you looked at him. He stared at you for a long moment, making sure you heard him. “So my question stands: When are you going to put him—and yourself—out of this misery?”

Your friends let you sit with that question for a silent moment, then Yelena selected one of the knives, claiming it was an early Christmas present for herself and made her way over to the checkout.

Steve was also apparently buying something, accepting a small wrapped package from the cashier that he slipped into his pocket. You were too overwhelmed by your thoughts to be curious about it anymore though.

You stood with Bucky near the entrance to the tent, waiting for your friends to finish their transactions while your mind swirled. You were grateful to your friend for leaving you alone with your thoughts, though you knew it was only because Bucky was confident he’d made his point.

And he had. Oh how he had.

Your mind and heart were a mess. You’d spent so many years telling yourself that you could never let anyone catch on about your feelings for Steve, because if they did, it would lead to the end of the friend group. But they’d all known for weeks, and nothing had changed.

Well, nothing except apparently Bucky and Yelena had taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. And you wouldn’t have been surprised if Natasha had been in on the ploy as well, distracting Steve purposefully so Yelena and Bucky could ambush you.

Still, you couldn’t fully silence the tiny voice of fear deep in your heart that insisted that if you and Steve got together, and things ended badly, you’d lose all your friends.

The rest of the group had known each other for so long and it had been more than a little daunting to figure out where you fit. Adding a romantic relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster—and if it ended so badly that everyone was forced to choose sides, you couldn’t imagine them choosing yours when they’d known Steve so much longer.

But as you watched Yelena finish paying for the knife, her words about always being your friend came back to you. She was your best friend—and you were hers. As if proving the point, she caught your eye and smiled impishly as she caught up with you, linking her arm through yours and tugging you back out into the market.

In that moment, something settled in you. Without fully realizing it, you’d always been a little insecure in your group of friends, always worried they would kick you out at the smallest infraction. But Yelena had said it plainly—they’d always be your friends, and you owed it to them to believe her, to trust her, because that was what friendship was.

That was what you had to do to have any kind of meaningful relationship.

As your group of friends wandered further down the row of stalls at the holiday market, you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept straying to Steve. Each time, you found him either looking at you already, or glancing your way within seconds, like he could feel your gaze.

When you looked at him, really looked at him, you noticed a little bit of hurt in his eyes. There was only a hint of it, like he was trying to hide it from you and everyone elese, but you could see it.

You wondered, briefly, how you’d missed it, but a part of you knew you’d been seeing it since that night at the bar. You’d just been ignoring it along with everything else swirling in his gaze.

“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”

You’d known you were making yourself miserable—of course you had. But the realization that you were making Steve miserable, even as he made a valiant effort to hide it, was what finally made your decision for you about what to do with everything Bucky and Yelena had told you.

No matter how scared you were that things might end badly, and you’d end up getting your heart broken and lose all your friends, you had to trust them when they said they’d always be there for you. You had to trust that Steve knew what he wanted—and that what he wanted was you.

The group came to another stop when Bucky spotted a specialty chocolate vendor and he ducked inside. Nat and Yelena followed him in—the latter giving you a meaningful look as you trailed behind before cutting her eyes to Steve. The message was clear and you nodded, giving her a playful shove that made your best friend cackle as she followed Bucky and Nat.

You stepped toward Steve where he hovered just outside the tent, and he shot you a knowing smile when he caught your eye.

“Still feeling like you’ve had enough chocolate?” he asked in a friendly tone, referencing your earlier joke. His beard twitched like he was trying to hold back a smile and it warmed your heart that he not only remembered the joke, but still found it funny.

The side of your mouth curved up in a lopsided grin, and you inched a tiny bit closer, just barely stepping into Steve’s personal space as you looked up at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had my fill,” you said, keeping your tone light. You took on a considering expression, tipping your head to the side and tapping a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “For tonight, at least.”

Both of you laughed, but the December wind cut through the holiday market just then, and it reminded you of how cold your fingers were, especially out in the open. You quickly shoved your hand deep into the pocket of your coat, and Steve didn’t miss the movement, drifting even closer to you.

“Do you have any gloves, sunshine?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that had warm tingles of delight dancing down your spine, all the way to your toes.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. Steve had moved close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep looking up at him, and you could feel the heat radiating off his larger body.

His blue eyes were sparkling in the warm, golden light of the market, and you could see the swirl of emotion in their depths that was only there when he looked at you. But there was a crease of concern between his brows, too, and you knew he was seconds away from offering to find you some gloves—or something else that would be chivalrous and perfectly friendly.

You realized, very suddenly, that if anything was going to happen between you and Steve, anything like what had happened at the bar, you needed to make the first move. Bucky had said Steve had been worried about making you uncomfortable before that night, and you were certain it had only worsened after the kiss you’d shared.

So, before he could say anything, you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?”

Steve’s brows lifted in surprise, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from trying to take the words back as soon as they’d slipped out of your mouth. And you were glad you did, because as the moment stretched on, and Steve realized you were serious, his brows lowered and his blue eyes darkened with interest.

“Ya sure about that, sunshine?” he asked, his voice low enough that you knew it was meant for only you. He ducked his head slightly, so he was nearly at your eye level, and held your gaze. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything you might regret.”

The words stung a little, but you knew you deserved them, especially after you’d told Steve that kissing him had been a mistake. So you held his gaze and stepped even closer to him, until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

“I’m sure,” you said firmly, letting Steve see the honesty in your open expression. “I know what I’m doing and I—this is what I want.” You were proud of yourself for only stumbling once, and held your breath as you waited for Steve’s response.

The corners of Steve’s mouth flickered in an eager grin, but he wiped the expression away, like he was worried that if he appeared too excited, he’d scare you away. You felt a pang of regret, and it doubled your determination to show Steve that you weren’t going to panic and run away again.

Pulling your hands from your pockets, you brushed your fingertips against Steve’s stomach in a silent reminder of your question.

“Can I?” you asked, your voice breathless with anticipation.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his eyes molten with heat as he stared down at you. “Go ‘head, sunshine.”

You were cold enough that you didn’t waste any more time, slipping your fingers beneath the hem of Steve’s soft sweater and pressing your frigid fingertips to the warm, smooth skin you found.

“Fuck, your fingers are freezing,” Steve rumbled, the muscles of his abs contracting beneath your touch like they were trying flee. But before you could apologize and pull away, Steve’s hands flattened over yours outside his sweater, pressing your palms against the hard-packed plane of his abs. “Good thing ya got me to keep you warm, sunshine,” he teased, his voice so full of charm that you melted into him.

“Yeah, good thing,” you echoed in a whisper, the edges of your mouth curling up into a pleased smile. You shimmied closer to Steve, watching the way his blue eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze captive.

He wrapped you up against him, holding you in the loose cage of his warms while your fingertips stroked idly against his smooth skin. You wanted to let them wander further beneath his sweater and explore the wonders of Steve’s bare chest, but you managed to keep the urge in check since you were in public—though it was a near thing.

“You know what I like to do most in the winter?” you asked Steve, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you. The sounds of the market all around you were a distant soundtrack.

“What?” he asked indulgently, squeezing you slightly in his arms.

“Curl up in bed and snuggle on a snowy day,” you said with a sly smile. And then, as if a thought had just occurred to you, you tilted your head to the side. “Hey, is your bed comfy? Do you have a lot of nice warm blankets and good pillows?”

A grin pulled across Steve’s face even though he was fighting it, trying to look like he was taking your questions under serious consideration.

“Y’know, I think it’s very comfy,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He’d obviously picked up on the not-so-subtle cue that you might want him to take you back to his place, and you appreciated that he was sticking to the bit. “But it sounds like you’re an expert, so I think you should come over and be the judge of that.”

An answering grin curved your mouth and you murmured, “I’d like that.”

Then, before you could let your fear get the best of you again, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Steve’s beard as you moved to whisper in his ear.

You shivered at the physical reminder of the coarse hair rasping deliciously against your cheeks when he’d kissed you and it took a moment to remember what you’d been about to say. When you did, you couldn’t hold in your smirk.

“Did I mention I do my best snuggling naked?”

“Sunshine.”

The nickname was uttered in a gruff, rumbling rasp, like the sound of a plow on snowy streets. It was so deep and delicious, your toes curled in delight and your mouth pulled into a full-blown grin.

You barely had time to pull away before Steve was wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and towing you in for a kiss.

Steve’s mouth was wonderfully soft and exquisitely warm and achingly familiar against yours. He wasted no time licking along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance that you happily gave him.

Your fingers curled around Steve’s sides beneath his sweater, digging greedily into the soft skin at his waist while you kissed him back feverishly, trying to close every gap between your bodies.

“Fuck, how does this feel so much better than I remember?” Steve growled against your lips, his hand on the back of your neck tilting your head just the way he wanted so he could lick even deeper into your mouth.

Your breathy, delirious laugh was swallowed by his all-consuming kiss, the sound turning into a helpless moan.

God, he was right, it did feel so much better than you remembered to have Steve’s mouth on yours, and you couldn’t fathom how you’d run away from him before because, in that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was stop. You wanted to kiss Steve for the rest of your life.

“I don’t know, but Steve, please, don’t stop,” you murmured when he finally let you up for air. You tried to catch your breath while he was busy pressing insatiable kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your lips.

Pulling your hands from beneath his sweater, your no longer freezing fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, pulling him closer while at the same time pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes again. Your bodies slotted together even more perfectly, and you moaned softly into his mouth as you tugged him in for another kiss.

Steve kissed you harder, holding you tight to his chest like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear on the wintry wind. In turn, you held him just as fiercely, your nails raking through the beard on the underside of his jaw and tugging lightly to bring him closer until he was rumbling a pleased sound deep in his chest.

“Get a room!”

The perfect bubble that had formed around and Steve abruptly popped, the sounds of the bustling holiday market rushing in along with the December chill and you pulled away, your first instinct to worry about what your friends would think. But then you caught the look on Steve’s face.

He was staring at you with such a blissed out expression, his blue eyes dark and hazy, a pleased smile on his kiss-swollen lips, that you couldn’t help but relax and melt back into him. You took your time to press a sweet kiss to his lips before turning to your friends.

Natasha, Yelena and Bucky all wore matching smug grins. Nat was even popping little chocolate candies into her mouth like she was enjoying the show.

“Oh no, please don’t stop on our account,” she called to you and Steve, gesturing with her hand for you both to continue. The whole group burst into raucous laughter.

Cracking up and shaking your head, you buried your face in Steve’s rumbling chest, feeling a little shy about being caught making out so heatedly by your friends. But you felt relief, too, that no one was upset—that all your friends were happy for you and Steve.

When you’d finally gotten ahold of yourself, you tipped your face up and caught Steve’s eye, giving him a sly smile that had his expression instantly darkening with a hunger that made you pulse with desire.

“So about that comfy bed of yours…” you murmured, just for him to hear. When he nodded once, quickly, to acknowledge he remembered it, you went on. “I’d love to see it if you’re ready to go?”

The implication of your question was clear and Steve clutched you tighter to his chest, capturing your lips for a brief, hot kiss that did more to warm you from the inside out than any of the hot chocolate you’d consumed that evening.

“Sunshine, I’ve been ready to take you home for years,” he rasped against your mouth, the honesty in his voice making you smile.

When Steve pulled away, he tugged you over to your group of friends and told them you were heading home—yes, together, he confirmed. All three of them murmured encouraging words in your ear as you hugged them goodbye, and you could tell by the pink tinging Steve’s cheeks that they were doing the same to him.

Once farewells were said, Steve snagged your hand and laced your fingers together. As you walked to the subway, he tucked your clasped hands into the pocket of his overcoat, and then your other into the crook of his elbow, where he covered it with his palm to keep you warm.

Steve held you tucked into his side the whole way back to his place while he made idle conversation, asking about the latest books you’d read and movies you’d watched. He only let go when it came time to pull out his keys and unlock his door.

There was a giddy, electric energy between the two of you as Steve helped you out of your coat and hung it up. Your gaze kept drifting back to him while you took off your boots and he hung up his overcoat. Once done, he stepped close, toeing out of his shoes next to where you’d dropped your boots.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Steve asked, his voice rough and a little uneven, like he was nervous. It made you smile, settling your own nerves to know he was right there with you.

You stepped further into Steve’s space, your fingers sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and giggling when he sucked in a sharp breath. He’d made an excellent effort to keep your fingers warm on the way home, but the December cold had still snuck in.

It was a good thing Steve was there to warm you up again.

“I think I’d just like to see this comfy bed of yours,” you murmured, pushing up onto your tiptoes and kissing Steve.

The two of you lingered in the entryway of Steve’s apartment for long minutes, kissing and learning what made each other gasp and moan. His teeth nipped at your lower lip, sinking in hard enough to make you whimper before relenting and soothing the sting away with his tongue.

Meanwhile, you let your hands wander further beneath Steve’s sweater, finding a light trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his slacks. You raked your nails through it, and relished the pleased sound that rumbled in his chest.

Warm, wet desire was gathering between your thighs, and it wasn’t long before you squirmed impatiently against Steve, needing more.

By the time Steve broke the kiss and spun you around, his heavy hands dropping to your hips to guide you through his apartment, your panties were damp and you were aching for something only Steve could give you.

Both of you moved quickly as you let Steve lead you to his bedroom, pausing just inside the darkened room while he flicked on a light.

A soft, golden glow emanated from two lamps set on low wooden tables on either side of the massive bed. Curiously, your gaze roved over the room, taking in the earthy colors and tasteful design.

It seemed Steve hadn’t only gotten his wardrobe and appearance together—he’d also made his home a place that was warm and welcoming and entirely him.

The king-size bed was swathed in a thick, forest green comforter with dark charcoal sheets, a veritable pile of pillows at the head that looked far too enticing. The rest of the room was furnished with a dark wooden bookcase and dresser that matched the bed frame and side tables. There were even some vintage photographs of Brooklyn decorating the wall, along with some framed pictures on dresser.

Wandering over, you picked up one of the photographs. It was from the first autumn after you’d met Yelena and the others. The group had rented a car and gone to a farm upstate to go apple picking and enjoy all the other autumnal delights the state had to offer.

In the photo, you were tucked into Steve’s side on a bale of hay, ready for the hayride the group had decided to go on, with Yelena on your other side. There was a blanket draped over your laps, and Steve’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders. The three of you were beaming at the camera.

“Do you remember that trip?” Steve asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder while he peered at the photograph.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. Then you winced as you remembered something about the trip. “Wasn’t this the time I fell asleep on your shoulder on the way home and drooled all over your jacket?”

Steve laughed huskily in your ear.

“It is,” he confirmed, brushing a kiss to your cheek before murmuring. “I didn’t wash it for a month.”

It was your turn to laugh, though the sound was more of a surprised exhalation as you twisted your upper body so you could see his face better.

“What?”

Steve grimaced, wrinkling his nose and scuffing a hand against the back of his neck sheepishly, like he regretted admitting that to you.

“It was more because it smelled like you than because of the, y’know, drool,” he explained, his tone a tiny bit defensive. But then he looked at you, finding your face still frozen in surprise and his expression softened. “I’ve liked you since I met you, sunshine.”

It wasn’t anything Bucky hadn’t already told you, but it still felt like an entirely new revelation coming straight from Steve, and all you could think to say was, “Oh.”

You turned back to the photo, still held in your hand, and all you could think about was the fact that you had the same one tacked up on the corkboard over your desk. You wondered if Steve liked it for the same reason you did—because it made the two of you look like a happy couple, even with Yelena sitting next to you.

“I liked you too,” you confessed in a small voice.

Steve was quiet for a moment, his hold on you loosening slightly as you stepped forward to put the photograph back on his dresser. But when that was done, he towed you back in until your back was pressed to his chest.

“Liked?” he asked, enunciating the ‘d’ at the end of the word.

Your mouth flickered in a smile and you turned around in his arms. Your hands smoothed over his broad shoulders while you leaned into him, your soft curves pressing into the hard planes of his body.

“I liked you then, and I like you now, Steve,” you said, holding your breath as you stared up at him. Even knowing he felt the same way about you, it was still scary to lay your heart bare for the first time, and you waited eagerly for his response.

An exhale gusted from Steve and you couldn’t help but note the relief in his expression, even as he grinned wide.

“That’s good to hear, sunshine, because I like you, too.”

“Good,” you said with a grin, dragging Steve down for a too-brief kiss. “Now, will you take me to bed already?”

Steve’s laughter was muffled as he kissed you again, guiding you around and walking you backward until the backs of your legs hit the bed. He didn’t break the kiss as he lowered you to the soft mattress and helped you slide up the bed until your shoulders settled into the pile of pillows at the head.

Your arms wrapped around Steve and you pulled him down on top of you while he braced himself so he didn’t crush you. One of his legs slid between your thighs and he lowered himself down on top of you until his bulge pressed into your stomach. Your belly swooped with excitement and your pulse thrummed with desire.

Hiking one of your legs up around his waist, you writhed beneath Steve, grinding your hot core against his thigh through your jeans.

You couldn’t seem to stop touching him, your hands sketching the exact measure of his body, and he seemed to be doing the same. Steve’s hands couldn’t stay still, sliding up and down your sides before finally pushing beneath your sweater.

His warm, calloused fingers stroked covetously over your skin, and you felt extra sensitive wherever he touched you, his every caress sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.

“Steve,” you whined, wrenching your mouth from his to drag in a much-needed breath. Even still, you craved more and your body rocked up into his, grinding against his thigh while his bulge pressed insistently into your belly.

“You feel so good, sunshine,” he rasped as he kissed a trail along your jaw and down to your neck. The scratch of his beard against your skin had you shuddering beneath his big body. “Can I…?” he asked, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your bra beneath your sweater.

“Yes—please,” you gasped. Your own fingers curled into the soft fabric of Steve’s sweater between his shoulder blades and you tugged on it, trying to pull it over his head.

Steve chuckled into your neck before he sat up and yanked his sweater off for you, baring the broad expanse of his chest. You caught glimpses of soft brown hair dusted across his pecs and endless swaths of golden skin before he was helping you out of your sweater.

You grumbled disgruntledly when your view of Steve was cut off as he tugged your sweater over your head, then as he leaned close to unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere in the room. You only dragged your eyes away from Steve’s perfect chest when he made a low, almost anguished sound.

He looked a little dazed, his eyes staring down at your bare breasts. Your chest was heaving slightly, making them bounce gently, and Steve looked almost hypnotized by the sight.

Snorting to yourself, you curled your fingers around his firm biceps and tugged him back down on top of you, whimpering when your nipples brushed against the hair on his chest. They pebbled as pleasure spiked through your body, settling heavily between your thighs and making even more wetness soak into your panties.

The movement had broken Steve from his trance and he began kissing from your neck down your chest. The rasp of his beard over your clavicle sent a delicious shiver down your spine, making you keen and tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he rumbled gruffly into your skin. He buried his face in the valley between your breasts, groping your supple flesh in his big hands while pressing teasing kisses and gentle bites to your skin. “You’re so perfect, sunshine.”

You whined a needy sound, reacting to his touch as much as his awe-filled words, and threaded your fingers through Steve’s soft hair. You held him tightly to your chest, wordlessly pleading for more, and he enthusiastically indulged the request.

Steve wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked deeply, drawing so much of you into his hot mouth, it felt like he was doing his damndest to devour you. You were already so sensitive for him that it felt like there was a direct line connecting your sensitive peak to your clit, and you cried out in pleasure, your spine arching up off the bed and pushing your chest further in Steve’s face.

He grinned, doing a poor job of hiding his self-satisfied expression in your soft tits, but you didn’t begrudge him the smugness—not when he nibbled at your hardened nipple so good, it made your hips buck up from the bed. A whine slipped from your lips when you realized you no longer had his thigh to grind against, your legs kicking restlessly at the sheets.

After giving the same torturous treatment to your other nipple, wringing even more whimpering whines and desperate keening sounds from your mouth, Steve began kissing his way further down your body. He nipped playfully at your belly before lifting his head to catch your eye.

It took you a moment to blink them into focus enough to see him clearly.

“I’ve been dreaming about your taste for years, sunshine,” he rumbled, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and tugging just enough that you knew he was asking if he could take them off. “Please, can I…?”

You were already nodding, your fingers fumbling over the button of your jeans. Steve seemed just as eager as you, gently pushing your hand aside and taking over as he thumbed it through the hole in the denim and pulled your zipper down. Then he was peeling your jeans down over you hips and thighs, taking your panties off at the same time.

In only a few seconds, you were stripped bare for the first time in front of Steve Rogers, and if it wasn’t for the shuddered exhale that gusted past his lips and the sizable bulge twitching in the front of his slacks, it might’ve occurred to you to feel a little insecure.

But before those thoughts could even begin to creep in, Steve was dragging his hands up your thighs and spreading your legs with a reverent look on his face, giving an appreciative rumble deep in his chest as he raked his eyes up the naked length of your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his face between your thighs and taking a deep breath.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to wonder at how you smelled because Steve was licking his tongue into the seam of your pussy, groaning like he’d eaten something delicious.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled before diving in deeper, burying his face against your cunt and eating you out like he was a dying man and you were his last meal.

In no time at all, he had you crying out, your hips bucking up off the bed as pleasure swirled through your body. It was all you could do to try to stop yourself from humping against his handsome face.

Steve’s thick biceps banded around your thighs and he held you spread open while he feasted on you, his eyes staring up past your quivering belly and heaving chest to watch your reactions. He sucked and nibbled and flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit, paying attention to what had you writhing and moaning your pleasure beneath him.

He licked into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue until you were squirming and panting on the bed, your thighs tensing and trembling with your building release.

Needing something to hold on to, you threaded your fingers into Steve’s hair, holding his head against your greedy pussy and rocking your hips into him. You moaned loudly, unabashedly, grinding against his mouth and beard as you neared the edge.

“Oh god, Steve, ‘m so close, please—please, don’t stop, ‘m gonna come,” you babbled, your spine arching up off the bed as you threw your head back into the pile of soft pillows. “Fuck, please, please, please!”

It was clear that Steve was a quick study when it came to your body, and he put what he’d learned to good use, sucking hard on your clit and flicking his tongue over it, steadily driving your pleasure higher until, finally, it crested. And then he pushed you right over the edge.

Your fingers fisted in Steve’s hair and you humped shamelessly against his face as you came with a cry of his name—“Steve!” Your body tightened, and then loosened as wave after wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, making you shiver intensely while Steve’s mouth worked you through your release.

When the pleasure began to ebb, you melted back into the soft blankets on Steve’s bed, a dazed smile curving your mouth. Steve eased you down with gentle sweeps of his tongue and soft kisses to your inner thighs, murmuring sweet words to you about how good you tasted on his tongue.

It wasn’t until you whimpered from overstimulation that Steve stopped. He pressed one last kiss to the top of your mound before pushing himself up. His happy grin when he saw the sated, content expression on your face made your heart skip a beat in your chest. He was just so damn handsome.

“Good?” Steve asked, though you knew from the self-satisfied look in his eye that he already knew the answer to his question.

Still, you nodded. “So good,” you purred, stretching and reaching for him. Your fingers curled into coarse hair on the underside of his jaw and you tugged him up your body for a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, and his beard was so drenched in your juices, it made your own cheeks damp. A groan worked its way up your throat at the filthiness of the kiss, and you pulled Steve closer, letting him muffle the sound as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Even though Steve had just made you come harder than anyone else in your entire life, renewed desire was beginning to bloom in your core, the heat of your arousal already building again. Distractedly, you recognized that you’d never felt the way you did for anyone but Steve—insatiable, unwilling to let the night end just yet.

When Steve’s hard bulge knocked against your hip, a devious smirk curled your lips and you wasted no time trailing your fingers down his bare, golden chest to grope his cock through his slacks. He was hard and heavy in your hand, and an excited thrill raced down your spine at the thought of taking him in your mouth.

Steve groaned against your lips, his big body shuddering when you squeezed and stroked him through the thick material of his pants. So you did it again, rubbing him with your palm until you felt his hard length jump against your fingers, like his body was just as eager for your touch as the rest of him.

“We don’t have to do more,” Steve said, his voice a little breathless. “I-I mean, you don’t have to return the favor or anything. I’m good to just go to sleep if that’s what you want.”

Steve’s words were honorable, but you didn’t want to sleep.

You pushed at his larger body until he flipped onto his back. Following after him, you kissed down his chest, taking a moment to nuzzle in the soft hair scattered across his pecs before you lifted your head and caught his eye, letting him see the desire in yours.

“I bet I’ve dreamed about sucking your cock just as much as you dreamed about eating my pussy,” you whispered huskily, holding his gaze determinedly while you shifted down his body until your face was level with his bulge. You mouthed at his hard length through his slacks. “Please, Steve, can I…?”

“Yeah—yes—fuck, sunshine, you can do whatever you want,” he rasped, helping you undo his button and fly, his fingers trembling. Then he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.

You felt like you were unwrapping the most perfect Christmas present as you tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his thick, toned thighs. You even let out a little gasp of delight when Steve’s cock bounced free, marveling at the sheer masculine beauty of it.

Impatiently, you pulled his clothes the rest of the way off, pausing only to kiss his thighs, enjoying the softness of his leg hair against your lips and cheeks, before returning to his cock.

Taking him in hand, you circled your fingers around the thick shaft and gave him a loose pump, watching how he bucked his hips into your fist from just that little bit of touching. Steve’s hands were fisted in the blankets on the bed, like he was holding himself back from touching you, and you decided you want to make the man—your man—lose himself in pleasure, just like he’d done to you.

You ducked down and licked the tip of Steve’s cock, humming in delight as the salty, musky taste of his precum burst on your tongue. The vibrations made Steve groan and you hid a self-satisfied smirk against his cock, before refocusing on your task.

You pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down Steve’s shaft, staring up his hard, firm body while he watched you worship his cock. His cheeks were tinged pink, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow and his eyes were so dark, his pupils blown so wide, they looked like the navy blue night sky on a winter evening.

When you ducked down further, taking his balls into your mouth and suckling greedily, Steve’s gaze widened and his cock twitched in your hand.

“Sunshine,” he rasped, the nickname sounding like a plea for mercy as he groaned loudly. “Ya keep sucking my balls and I’m gonna come way too soon.”

With a smirk, you gave his sensitive sac one last little suckle before letting it fall from your lips, then you licked up the length of his cock.

“Can’t have that,” you quipped, shooting him a smug grin. You pressed a kiss to the tip and wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth and sucking hard enough to make his hips buck up off the bed.

Another anguished sound wrenched free from Steve’s lips.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he settled back down, one of his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head—not pushing you down or pulling you away, just holding you like he couldn’t help but touch you.

For a moment, you focused on Steve’s cock, pulling back before taking him deeper into your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the head and trace the veins decorating his shaft while your fist stroked him. But when you flicked your gaze up to Steve, you found him watching you with adoration in his eyes.

“You’re amazing, sunshine,” he rumbled when he noticed he had your attention, one side of his mouth pulling up in a lopsided grin. “You’re gorgeous—and you look so fucking hot with my cock in your mouth.”

The corners of your mouth flickered in a pleased smile as his praise washed over you, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in. When you opened them again, you redoubled your efforts on Steve, bobbing up and down on his length at a steady pace while you pumped him in your fist.

You lost yourself in the pleasure of sucking Steve’s cock, and before long, you could feel yourself growing wet all over again. Your inner walls clenched pathetically around nothing while your mouth was filled with his big dick, but you didn’t want to stop.

However, before you could make Steve come down your throat, his hands gently gripped your head and he pulled you up off his cock. With his considerable strength, Steve hauled you back up the bed and rolled you over onto your back beneath him, bracing himself on one hand while the other slide between your thighs. He bit off a curse when he felt how wet you were.

“Christ, sunshine, ya got this wet from sucking my cock?” he asked, a note of teasing in his tone that had heat coursing through your body. Before you could respond, though, his mouth found yours for a kiss.

You were certain he must’ve been able to taste himself on your tongue, but he didn’t seem to care. He was too determined to devour your lips and swallow your moan while he speared you open with two fingers, capturing your cry of pleasure.

“Oh god, Steve,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hips rocking into his hand and fucking his fingers. “Please, I need you—I need you to fuck me.” Your hand was fisted in Steve’s soft hair and you clung to him, your entire being straining to get closer while still taking all the pleasure his fingers offered.

“Thank fuck—I need you so goddamned bad, sunshine,” he groaned, easing his fingers from your dripping hole and rolling onto his back so he could reach for something.

A moment later, you heard the sound of a wooden drawer snap closed and he rolled back on top of you, the square foil packet of a condom held in his fingers.

“Ya wanna do the honors?” he asked, his grin so charming and so like the Steve you’d known for so many years that it took your breath away.

But there was a comfort and an ease to the moment because you were there with Steve—your Steve—and you laughed at his silly offer. You were shaking your head even as you took the packet and tore it open, tossing the foil aside and making quick work of rolling the condom onto his cock.

When you were done, you gave the base of his shaft an affectionate squeeze and Steve chuckled, capturing your lips in a kiss while he shifted on top of you, pressing his knees between your legs and spreading your thighs to make room for his big, broad body.

You opened happily for him, kissing him back while your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs. Together, you lined your bodies up until Steve’s cock lay heavily against your mound, kissing lazily all the while.

After a moment, Steve broke the kiss, pushing himself up with one hand while the other fisted his hard length and held himself away from the place where you ached for him to fill. He stared deep into your eyes and gave you a serious look, a little bit of anxiety swirling in his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes roving over your face like he was searching for any hidden remnant of hesitance on your part—any sign that you might run, you realized. “Because I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you for so long, that if you tell me tomorrow this was a mistake…” Steve paused, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, “it’ll break my fucking heart, sunshine.”

Steve’s voice cracked a little on the pet name and it made your heart split open in your chest. You didn’t know if you’d ever forgive yourself for hurting Steve the way you did, for saying those things you didn’t mean and trying to push him away when all you’d wanted was to pull him closer.

You decided then and there to make it up to him—and that began with being honest with him. Always.

So you threaded your fingers into Steve’s beard until you were cupping his face and you stared him directly in the eye as you answered his question.

“I’m sure, Steve,” you said firmly, certainty resonating in your tone. “I was scared before—I’ve wanted you for so long that the thought of finally having you was terrifying.” You gave him a tremulous, apologetic smile, and his expression softened. “But I’m sure about this,” you said again, your voice stronger. “I’m sure about you, and I’m sure about us.”

When you finished your confession, Steve’s eyes closed and he exhaled a long, relieved breath. You pulled him down for a kiss, and it was a gentle thing—tentative as you both savored the vulnerability you shared, physically and emotionally, thanking one another for the trust that took.

It was only when the kiss ended and Steve pressed his forehead to yours that he pushed inside you for the first time, his thick cock sinking deep into your pussy with one determined, inexorable thrust.

Your arms and legs were wrapped around him already and you clung to Steve as you cried out, tears of emotion pricking at the backs of your eyes even as pleasure radiated through your body.

“You ok?” Steve asked softly and the question—so gentle and genuine—had a tear spilling onto your cheek. He brushed it away.

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admitted in a thick voice, tugging Steve’s mouth back to yours, kissing him deeply.

Together, you gave yourselves over to your instincts. Steve pulled his hips back until only half of him remained inside, and your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him to plunge deep into you again. He slid home, and both of you moaned.

Steve rocked into you with slow, thorough thrusts, but when you moaned for more, he drew back more each time and thrust harder. It wasn’t long before he was fucking you in hard, deep strokes that hit all the most perfect spots inside you, his mouth kissing your cheeks and neck and anywhere he could reach while he held you pinned to his chest, his hips working his cock deep into your cunt.

With every hard thrust, you clung more tightly to Steve, holding him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair, thankful he’d grown it long enough that you could grip it tight in your fists. Your body writhed beneath his bigger form, using your legs draped around his thighs to meet his thrusts.

For what seemed like forever, you and Steve were nothing more than two writhing bodies trying to get closer, deeper, tighter together, like your hearts were straining to become one. And you were so consumed with pleasure that it wasn’t until you were right on the precipice of your release that you realized you were close.

“Steve,” you gasped, trying to tell him you were going to come, and just then he changed the angle of his hips, stealing the words from your lips.

He was driving his cock so deep into your cunt and grinding against your clit so exquistiely that you saw stars. Your body shook under a deluge of pleasure and the coil of tension twisted tighter in your core.

“Come for me, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, fucking you hard and deep and so perfectly you knew you were forever ruined for any other man. “Be a good girl and come on my cock before I fucking explode.”

His filthy words were your undoing.

You shattered apart, sharp, sparkling pleasure devastating your body and mind while you screamed Steve’s name as you came. Your whole body clenched tight, clamping down on Steve’s cock hard enough that he grunted into your neck, then you succumbed to the pleasure as it dragged you under its thrall, whimpers and moans spilling from your lips mindlessly.

Steve’s hands gripped your hips tightly, and he rutted into your clenching pussy with wild thrusts as he chased his own release. He found it only a moment after yours, groaning your name against your cheek while his hips stuttered and shunted forward, burying himself balls-deep in your fluttering pussy while he came, his cock throbbing deep in your cunt.

You held each other close as you came down from your releases. Your fingers stroked through Steve’s soft hair, the strands damp with sweat, and twirled around the gently curling ends. Meanwhile, his hands were petting up and down your sides, his face buried in the pillow beside your head while he rumbled muffled words of praise in your ear.

Eventually, Steve sat up, pulling his softening cock as gently from your body as he could manage, watching your face closely for any hint of pain. You were a little sore, but when he pulled free, your body mourned the loss of him more than anything else.

He quickly disposed of the condom and wrapper in his bathroom, then came back with a warm wet washcloth. He cleaned you up with gentle caresses, pressing a kiss to your hip and nipping playfully at your belly until you were giggling and pushing him away, your body too tired and sated and oversensitive for such treatment—but you were grinning all the same.

When he was done, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom while he padded to his dresser. After you were done, you found Steve relaxing on his bed in only a pair of lounge pants, his chiseled chest deliciously bare and biceps bulging with his hands tucked behind his head.

You paused, raking your eyes over his gorgeous chest, only catching his gaze when he made a deep, rumbling sound of good-natured warning.

“You better put on some pajamas, sunshine,” Steve started, his blue eyes heated and a playful smile flickering at the edges of his mouth, almost hidden by his beard. “Unless you want me to fuck you again.”

The threat in his tone was flirtatious and you almost took him up on the offer. But you knew that if Steve fucked you again, you’d be sore the next day, and you didn’t want that. Huffing a petulant sigh, you moved to the pile of folded clothes Steve had left on the corner of the bed.

The heat in Steve’s eyes didn’t abate as he watched you pull one of his shirts over your head, tugging the hem down until it covered your ass and part of your thigh. You didn’t have any clean panties, so you crawled into bed like that, your eyes finding Steve and watching as the heat of desire softened into the warmth of affection.

The two of you slid beneath the blankets and you curled up at Steve’s side, your head on his chest. You fell asleep quickly and easily to the sound of his gentle breathing, and the steady drumming of his heart beating beneath your cheek.

The next morning, you woke to snow flurries drifting past the windows of Steve’s bedroom, the flakes having covered his neighborhood in a blanket of white while you slept. You pressed a happy smile against Steve’s sternum, the expression deepening when you felt his heart skip a beat at your closeness.

“So, is my bed comfy enough for you, sunshine?” he asked in the deep rasp of a man who’d just woken up. Using his arms looped around your waist, he pulled you on top of him, his mouth finding yours for a decadent good morning kiss before he let you answer.

“Hmm,” you hummed playfully in thought, smiling against his mouth while you pulled him closer with your fingers curled into the scruffy, coarse hair of his beard. “It could use a few more pillows—and maybe a nice throw blanket.”

“Consider it done,” he murmured, rolling you beneath his broad body and sliding his hips between your thighs. His morning wood brushed against your bare core and you moaned into his mouth. “Anything you want, you just tell me, sunshine,” he rumbled in between slow, drugging kisses, his hips rolling leisurely against you. “I want my girlfriend to feel comfortable here.”

“Girlfriend?” you gasped breathlessly, your heart beating harder with excitement while he pulled away to kiss down your neck. You could feel Steve’s grin against the side of your throat before he pressed a kiss against your thrumming pulse.

“You wanna be my girlfriend, don’t ya, sunshine?” he asked.

It was only because you’d known Steve for so long, and were so determined never to hurt him again, that you heard the tiny thread of anxiety in his tone. You squeezed him tightly in your arms and rushed to answer, eager to put his worry to rest.

“Yes!” you cried happily. “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend, Steve.” You twisted your fingers in his soft hair and tugged his mouth up from your neck. “Now kiss me, boyfriend,” you murmured and Steve, obligingly, crushed his mouth to yours in a blissful kiss.

You and Steve reveled in your new relationship, spending a long time in bed just kissing and exploring each other and making up for lost time before your growling stomachs finally made you get up.

After breakfast, Steve seemed to remember something and he padded to the entryway, coming back with the box he’d acquired at the holiday market the evening before. He handed it to you, saying there was no way he’d be able to wait until Christmas to give it to you.

You opened the present, finding a simple silver chain and a stunningly engraved sun pendant within. You were so overwhelmed with happiness that tears sprang to your eyes and you had to hastily wipe them away.

“A little bit of sunshine for my sunshine,” Steve murmured against your temple before pressing a kiss to your skin.

At your insistence, he helped you put the necklace on and you thanked him graciously—with words and kisses. Then you towed Steve back to bed, and the two of you gave in to the pleasure of your bodies until you collapsed, sated once again.

All day, you couldn’t stop smiling. You were doing one of your favorite things, snuggling on a snowy day, with one of your favorite people in the world—your boyfriend. And you were making plans for the future, talking about what you were going to get your other friends for Christmas and arguing about how to best decorate Steve’s apartment for the holiday.

The whole time, you couldn’t help but think about how Christmas would always be extra special for you from that year on. It was a wonderful holiday but, more importantly to you, it was when you and Steve Rogers finally admitted your feelings for one another and took the first step toward a forever together.

So, this time of year would always be your favorite time of year.

december daze challenge masterlist

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farfromtommy · 23 days ago

Text

All Roads Lead To You

Authors Note:

NSFW

Harry and Y/N decide to take an open-ended roadtrip to Italy, they’ve been best friends since school but what changes when they get to run away for a bit and enjoy some overdue, uninterrupted time together under the summer sun as they journey across Europe. This one has been in the works, essentially, since Harry’s House was released. Heavily inspired by the song Keep Driving, the referenced are blatantly obvious LOL. Also wrote this about Harry’s trip to Italy he took during the pandemic when he drove there from England with a friend, in my story the friend happens to be Y/N. Some of the photos they take on the trip are also direct references from the Harry’s House album booklet, see if you can guess which ones! This is my longest fic to date and I hope you enjoy it, it’s been a labour of love.

As always, reblogs, likes, feedback is appreciated and encouraged !!

Lots of love, G xo

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: Recreational drug use and smut. Don’t do drugs kids (but if you do be safe xo)

Contains: Long drives, crepes in Paris, Coffee in Pisa, Pizza in Naples, Audrey Hepburn in Rome and a whole lotta love in Positano and a lot of blatant references to the song Keep Driving xo OH and Y/N spills food… a LOT

Word Count: 22k (it’s a BIG one, may need to read on desktop, device depending)

***

“Right then, we ready?” Harry asked shutting the driver side door as he got comfortable in the leather seat.

“Think so, did you lock up?” she asked, not yet looking up from her phone as she scrolled through their carefully curated road trip playlist.

“No, jus’ left the front door open for a laugh, I’ve stuck a sign up out the front saying everything’s free for the taking as well,” he said, sarcasm dripping around every word.

“Don’t be a smart arse, or you’ll be in for a long journey, I was jus’ checking. Did you lock the back doors?” She glanced up at him to see him sliding the key to the borrowed car into the ignition, his blue hat backwards on top of his grown-out curls, a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses hanging from the neck of his sweatshirt.

Harry paused as he was about to turn the key to start the car up, “the back doors weren’t open,” he said slowly, as if trying to convince himself of the fact.

“H, we ate out there this morning,” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, baffled to the fact he couldn’t remember they were out there with coffee and pancakes not even an hour ago.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry grumbled, pulling the keys back out of the ignition and groaning as he got back out the car with his knees cracking as he stood. Y/N leant out of the open passenger window as Harry made his way back to his front door.

“Oi, try and lose that hat while you’re at it, yeah?” Y/N called out the window to him, a smirk playing at her lips as Harry looked back over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. Before entering he turned back to face her, spun his hat round so the front was facing her so she could read that god awful fisherman quote, and he stuck both his middle fingers up at her as he laughed, walking backwards into his house.

While he was gone, Y/N took the opportunity to connect her phone to the sound system ready to deep dive into their playlist and then rifled through her bag in the footwell that had all their essentials for the first block of driving, just double checking she had everything to hand. A rough route map, or more so things they could stop to see and interesting places they could spend a night on their open-ended trip as they drove from London to Italy. Y/N had both their passports in a plastic wallet along with every other document they could possibly need and then some. Harry had joked her bag had looked like a police evidence container with everything separated into various wallets and folders. That had earned him a slap in the chest with one of those wallets and her saying, “well say, we get questioned about the car insurance at least I’ll know where it is, instead of you patting at your pockets as if it’s going to appear by magic, eh?”

She wasn’t wrong either, Harry knew he was making the right decision asking her to come along on this trip with him. Not only was she so well organised it put him to shame but he really couldn’t wait to have some well overdue Harry and Y/N time. The pair had been friends since they started high school, in fact, Harry was of the opinion friends was too basic of a term for what they were to each other. Kindred spirits perhaps, confidante seemed a bit too high and mighty of a phrase. Soulmates. Platonic soulmates, Harry kept telling himself, but the ache in his chest he felt when they were separated by the Atlantic Ocean and every flight grounded for the foreseeable when he got stuck in L.A when the entire world locked down said differently. Their daily FaceTime calls, that happened at all hours of the day and night, when they would confuse their time differences and any semblance of a daily schedule fell by the wayside throughout lockdowns and quarantines, eventually turned into them fantasising what they should do to make up for lost time when they were finally reunited and restrictions allowed them to run away for a bit, and thus the idea to drive to Italy was born. They justified it by saying, well driving would mean they would interact with the least amount of people other than each other, minimising their risk of becoming unwell, it would also mean they could make the trip as long or short as they pleased as neither of the pair had anything they had to rush back for. The only small argument they had got into was which car would be taking them on the journey across the English Channel and Europe, Y/N’s ageing car, that Harry had affectionately named her ‘Doodlebug’ was out of the question, it was a little too small and if Y/N was honest she didn’t think the car would make it through the channel crossing never mind to Italy. That left them Harry’s multiple car options, all of which Y/N shot down as he suggested them, rejecting his classic and vintage cars because, “what if something went wrong H? I doubt some mechanic in the middle of nowhere France can fix a Mercedes from the 60s.” When he suggested his newer, modern cars, they ended up in the reject pile just as quick, “they’re all a bit ostentatious d’you not think? All a bit ‘look at me, I’m a wanker roaring through rural France in a sports car’ or a big, fuck-off Range Rover before you suggest that.”

That left them drawing a blank, toying the idea of hiring a car until Harry mentioned his and Y/N’s plans while on a call with his Mum.

“Why don’t you take Robin’s?” she had suggested.

“Christ Mum, y’sure y’would be alright with that?” he queried, gnawing on his lip.

“Honestly Harry, please do, it would be a nice full circle moment, I think. We went all over the country in that thing, would be lovely to see you two take it further afield, make some memories like we did,” she had given him a soft smile through the phone screen as Harry gave her one back, feeling his eyes go glassy.

Which brought them to this moment. The second Harry had found out he was able to get home from L.A, Y/N was taking the quickest trip back up North she’d ever had, to collect the car and give a quick wave through the window to her own parents as that was as close to them as she was willing to risk, and she was back on the road driving the borrowed car to London to await Harry’s arrival. They set their departure date for a little over two weeks after Harry returned, so they could both isolate and not risk each other’s health and safety.

Just as she was repacking her final documents folder with their passports, Harry’s filled with a lot more stamps and used pages than her own, back into her bag in the footwell, Harry had returned, opening, and sliding into the driver’s seat, popping the key back into the ignition.

“Well, was the back door unlocked then?” she looked over at him, quirking her eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips, taking note that the ‘if you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit’ hat was still sat firmly on his head, squashing his soft curls down.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, deflecting from answering, he couldn’t help but let a smile tug at the corner of his annoyed pout as Y/N giggled from her seat, fastening her belt as Harry started the engine. “Next stop, the Eurotunnel,” he grinned at her as she wriggled excitedly in her seat, the idea of escaping the U.K for at least a little while was really doing a number on her.

“There’ll be bluebirds over, the white cliffs of Dover,” Y/N warbled as she pressed play on the same song on her phone.

Harry huffed out a laugh, “the Eurotunnel is in Folkestone, y’idiot,” he said as she continued her slightly off-key tune as the voice of Vera Lynn eased them into the first leg of a journey that would change everything.

***

“Harry, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Y/N warned as she pulled out the document with their booking reference.

“M’fine,” he grunted, reaching through his window, fingertips just whispering across the touchscreen as he tried to plug in the details

“Jus’ accept you misjudged it and open your bloody door, I’m not popping your shoulder back into place in the car park,” she retaliated.

Harry sighed before stretching out his seatbelt and popping the door open so he could lean closer to the screen all the while muttering under his breath, “jus’ embarrassing innit,” and “I look like a right knob,” as Y/N snickered and read out the code to him for him to punch in.

Slamming the door shut and handing her the ticket they had to hang from the rear-view mirror, his eyes met hers as she pressed her lips together to stifle the laugh that was crawling its way up her throat, “not a word,” he cautioned lifting his foot from the clutch as they drove under the raised barrier. “How long’ve we got til our slot?” he asked as he followed the road round into the car park where a selection of shops and world duty free framed the tarmac.

“Uh, 30-40 minutes, I think,” Y/N glanced at her watch as Harry pulled into a free parking space, “I really need a wee before we go anywhere though,” quickly attaching the ticket with the bold letter E inked on it to the rear-view mirror that would direct the staff to which train they should be on before undoing her seatbelt and reaching for her mask to slip on to enter the rest area.

Pulling his own mask on, he unbuckled his own seatbelt before getting out the car with her, locking it behind him with the push of a button, “okay, you sort yourself out, I’m away to play ‘Supermarket Sweep’ in the shops, any requests?” he held the door to the concourse open for her.

“The journey is only a bit over half an hour, but I could go somethin’ tasty,” she paused, mulling over what she could want before the pressure in her bladder interrupted her as she shot off towards the toilets, calling over her shoulder, “surprise me!”

Hands washed and dried and snacks purchased, they met outside the front doors of the concourse, so they weren’t lingering around many people before sauntering back over to the car.

“Shit, I forgot to put that bloody U.K sticker on the car,” Harry said as he took notice of the white stickers with the bold black letters emblazoned on the car’s parked on either side of their own. “Pass me it out, s’in the glove box,” he passed her the bag filled with their snacks as well to deposit in her passenger side too. Y/N quickly located the sticker handing it to Harry who was stood behind her on the passenger side and just as she was about to close the compartment, she caught sight of something else.

“Oh… H, look at this,” wrapping her hand round the item before pulling herself back out the car round the back to see Harry squatting down, smoothing over the sticker over the bumper. She handed him the polaroid she found, one of Anne and Robin, perched on the bonnet of this very car, clearly taken before one of their many road trips. Harry’s fingers held onto the edges of the image as to not taint it with his fingerprints as he took in their beaming faces, Y/N watched smiling softly as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat before he cleared it.

“I’ve got m’film camera in my backpack, we should take one too… like they did,” he glanced up at her timidly.

“That sounds like a great idea, let me put this back where it belongs and we’ll take one before we go, yeah?” she gave him a warm smile and a squeeze of his hand, taking the polaroid from him and putting it back in its home in the glove box so it would be on their journey with them. Harry was opening the boot, scouring through his large backpack that Y/N frequently teased him about, saying he looked like an 11-year-old on their first day of high school wearing it. Pulling out the camera and setting it up as he closed the boot again, Y/N sidled up to him as he held out the camera in front of them, trying to get the newly placed U.K sticker in the shot. Her hand came up to block the sun from her eyes as she beamed into the camera lens, a broad grin across Harry’s face too, as one eye squinted closed as he battled the golden rays shining in his face as he took their photo.

“S’black an’ white film in it just now, that’s the only thing,” Harry said taking the camera and its accompanying bag, stuffed full of accessories and new rolls of film and cannisters into the front seats so they could take some pictures on their journey.

“Even better,” she smiled, sliding back into her seat, and fastening her belt, “should we get out of here then?”

“Let’s do this,” Harry reached over to squeeze her knee in excitement as he started the car and drove towards the Eurotunnel.

***

Harry was adamant he was doing the first portion of driving from his home until they stopped overnight in Paris, one of the locations they decided to stop off at along the way to Italy, wanting to make it a ‘proper road trip.’ He was adamant he was doing that first portion of driving even when they got into a little scuffle next to the car while stretching their legs as the train hurtled under the English Channel. When Y/N tried to wrestle the keys from his grip and force herself into the driver’s seat.

“Move your arse, it’s not happening,” he had said taking the keys out of her grip holding them up above both their heads and out of reach.

“You’re the one that said we were splitting the driving,” she shot back as she reached up on the tips of her toes, her fingers just ghosting the keys, if only she could just hook a finger through the keyring.

Harry whipped the keys back down and stuck them in his back pocket before spinning Y/N round so he was closer to the open driver’s door, “and we’ll split it with you driving for a bit tomorrow, jus’ let me get us to Paris,” he stated as he sat down in seat and shut the door behind him before seeing Y/N’s furrowed brow through the open window, “oi, get in and buckled up, grumpy, we’ll be driving off soon.”

Her grumpiness didn’t last long as they were on the road from Calais to Paris, with them competing in the car of who could remember more from high school French which was really just the numbers from 1 to 20, some greetings and how to say you were going to the cinema with your mates, all completed with their dodgy attempt at an accent.

“Pass me a piggy,” he asked, looking out the corner of his eyes through his yellow sunglasses to see Y/N had burst into their snack haul.

“Um..” she began, feeling the heat rise on her face.

“You’ve not tanked an entire bag of Percy Pigs, have you?” Harry asked whipping his head round at her quickly, mouth open, before his eyes shot back to the road, “and didn’t even offer me one.” “No, no, not all of them, there’s some left, honest,” she giggled clutching onto the pink packaging that she had torn open.

“Then cough up,” he held out his left palm that had previously been resting on the gear stick. Y/N begrudgingly placed the pig-shaped confection in his hand.

“I love Percy Pigs, they’re my favourites,” she said softly to herself mostly, as she ate the second to last sweet before handing Harry the last one in the bag.

“I know y’do, there’s a second bag in there for the very reason I knew you would put that first bag away in record time,” he mumbled, chewing round a mouthful of fruit-flavoured pig.

“Shit, is there actually? You’re my second favourite after Percy now” she squeaked as she tore through the bag for life Harry had filled with her favourites while he played Supermarket Sweep earlier that day. Harry grinned at her joy of finding the second bag as he took a swig of water from the bottle that she had taken the lid off for him as he drove.

***

She had played the opening song from Beauty and the Beast as they drove into Paris as Harry snorted at her choice before joining in her singalong and pointing towards himself during the line about the baker. They did a quick driving tour of Paris as night fell over the city, both too exhausted for anything more. They parked up to enjoy the glittering light show of the Eiffel Tower while they ate the crêpes Y/N had purchased from an overpriced stand while she said something about this being a trip to play up the tourist stereotype. Harry watched her eyes sparkle in the twinkling light as drip of Nutella landed on her chin and a slice of strawberry fell out her dessert onto the pavement below their feet. As the sparkling faded out to darkness, Y/N looked up at Harry, who laughed in her face as he wiped away the Nutella with his scrunched-up napkin while she played it off saying she was saving that bit for later.

Harry had called in a favour with some friends in Paris and had managed to borrow an apartment for a night while his friend was out of town, gathering their overnight bags from the car and Y/N’s bag with all their important bits that she didn’t want to leave unattended in the car overnight, they shuffled into the quiet of the apartment to see Harry’s friend had made up their sofa bed in addition to their own bedroom for the pair.

“Bedrooms through there, Y/N/N, I’ll be out here,” he grunted out, his tiredness starting to become more evident in his voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous c’mere,” she tugged him alongside her into the bedroom, “I also don’t want t’hear you whine about a sore back in the car all day tomorrow,” she stated before sitting him down on the bed and kicking her shoes off and grabbing her sleepwear from her bag, “I baggsy the bathroom first, though,” she said through a yawn as she walked away from him. Harry quickly got himself changed while she was out of the room and was swiping through the pictures they had taken at the Eiffel Tower, and quick shots of other sights through the window on their driving tour, on his phone, in addition to the ones on his film camera. He barely noticed her enter the room again and shuffle into the bed next to him until the mumbled, “bathrooms all yours.” Harry was quick in sorting himself out in the bathroom, doing his business, washing his face, and brushing his teeth as he felt his body succumbing to sleep. He stumbled back into the bedroom to see her already out, soft puffs of air leaving her, her hair covering her face. Slipping under the sheets next to her, he reached over, pushed her hair back and smiled softly, eyes blinking heavily as he took in her softened features before turning out the bedside light and letting his body fall under the sleep it so desperately needed.

***

“H, I’m so hungry I’m hurtling towards taking a bite out the steering wheel,” she announced, looking over at him with a deadpan expression from her spot in the driver’s seat as he took a quick picture of her grimace on his camera. They had set off from Paris early with a long driving day in front of them with and Y/N was taking on the first stint of the drive to give Harry a break after his turn yesterday.

“Percy not cutting it any longer?” Harry questioned, lowering his camera from his face, a teasing smirk plaguing his mouth.

“Not even a little bit,” she sighed looking down at the packet of sweets jammed into one of the cup holders, not in the slightest bit tempted as she was yesterday.

“I’m already googling, I’ll find somewhere,” he reassured pulling his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie before pausing, “here, drink up, it’ll hold you over a bit before we stop,” he unscrewed lid of the water before passing it to her as she drank up gratefully keeping her right hand on the steering wheel.

They drove for another 45 minutes before Harry instructed her to pull into a rest stop that apparently served a great breakfast, according to TripAdvisor anyway. Y/N parked up and unbuckled and as she reached for a fresh mask Harry gripped her wrist and deposited it back into her lap, “no point in both of us going in, we’ll eat in the car, yeah?”

“Well, let me go then, don’t want you to get, y’know,” she spoke as she gestured her hands in the air as if to create some sort of fanfare symbolising Harry getting mobbed.

“Considering we’re in the middle of nowhere France and there’s only a lorry, us, and a car from 1982 parked up,” he nodded towards the car, “I think I’ll be jus’ fine. Got m’mask and m’sunnies on as well,” he said as he donned both, nodding his head down quickly to knock his sunglasses from their perch in his hair to cover his eyes as he looped the elastic of his mask over his ears.

“Take my wallet then, s’in the top of my bag, got some cash in there,” she reached over to adjust his sunglasses that sat squint on his face while he scrunched his nose up.

“Fuck off,” he scoffed at her suggestion of offering him money, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening his door to get out.

“Harry just tak-” she was cut off by the slamming of his door as she rolled her eyes at his behaviour.

He returned about 20 minutes later as she watched him through the front windscreen as he crossed the car park with a coffee carrier and a brown paper bag that the handles seemed to be straining on as he shook it in the air and wiggled his hips when he came to a stop in front of the car. She could see his eyes crinkle through his yellow lenses as he came back round to his passenger door. He passed her the coffee carrier in and balanced the paper bag on top of the centre console as he situated himself back in his seat. Y/N had rolled her own seat back as far as it could go to give herself a bit more room.

“That smells amazing,” Y/N sighed dreamily taking a whiff of the hot food coming from the paper bag as she took their coffees from the carrier and settled them in the two-remaining cupholders.

“Oh, we hit the jackpot in there, I come bearing a bag of fresh, home-made, assorted pastries,” he pulled out a white paper bag that seemed to be filled to bursting with buttery, flaky goodness, “we also have- oops there’s the forks,” he distracted himself pulling out a bundle of wooden cutlery wrapped in some paper napkins. “We also have toast,” he pulled out a white cardboard box and placed it on the dashboard between them, balancing some butter packages and jams on top, “and finally, hash browns an’ fried eggs,” he grinned handing over a polystyrene container she could feel the heat radiating through and placing his own container in his lap.

“Oh my god, aw I could kiss you,” she smiled patting her grumbling stomach, “did y’get knives though ‘cause I don’t like the egg whi-”

“Already dealt with,” he cut her off with a smile then taking a sip from his coffee, and sure enough it was. She popped open the lid of her food and saw her hash browns with two fried egg yolks sat next to them, the whites cut off from around them. Looking over at Harry, she saw him already wolfing into his yolkless egg whites in their chopped-up glory.

They ate and drank with their music playing quietly in the background until their bellies were full and Y/N was feeling a lot less grouchy. She packed up their rubbish into the paper bag and went to get out the car to take it to the bin across the carpark, “wait hang on lovie,” Harry stopped her before taking his thumb and swiping it across her bottom lip and chin before holding it in her eyeline, “some stray strawberry jam this time, are y’planning on spilling down your chin at every stop?” he smiled before wiping his thumb clean on a spare napkin before putting that in the top of their rubbish too.

***

Y/N continued driving the next portion of the journey with Harry deciding he’d take over just before the Mont Blanc tunnel. Insisting even when Y/N fought him on it.

“Why don’t we just swap the other side of the tunnel, seems a bit more logical to do it tha’ way.”

“No, no we’ll swap before,” his most reassuring tone evident in his voice.

She paused, thinking, before it dawned on her, “you just want to say you drove through the big tunnel, don’t you?” she mused. Harry’s silence and the redness that coloured his cheeks and the tips of his ears gave him away in an instant. “Y’so silly, we’ll swap before the tunnel,” she said as he beamed to himself.

So, they did. Y/N pulled into the last rest stop before the Mont Blanc tunnel where it was her turn to fill up the tank anyway as Harry got himself comfortable in the driver’s seat, moving it into position and adjusting his mirrors. Petrol paid for; they were on their way again. Y/N was fiddling around with Harry’s camera changing the film from the black and white reel they had finished to a colour film instead. As they paid the toll for the tunnel through the Alps and waited on their turn to go through, she caught his attention, “right, look at me,” he turned his head as he drove up to the entrance of the tunnel as Y/N took his picture, catching him unawares. “There we go, Harry’s big moment driving through the tunnel captured on film to remember forever,” she teased.

“You’ve got a real cheek, y’know, could’ve at least told me y’were taking m’photo, I would’ve posed an’ got a better shot,” he pulled his hat off leaving it on the dash, which she then took a photo of, while it was lit by the afternoon sun coming in the front window.

“Nah, my photography is all about catching real, genuine emotions,” she said in her best serious voice.

“Your photography,” he snorted, “right Annie Leibovitz, calm yourself down.”

“Oh, fuck off Harry, c’mon it’s our turn,” she said pointing towards the tunnel entrance.

As he drove into the tunnel with a smile on his face, he mentioned the silly superstition they used to do as children, “I’d say hold your breath and make a wish til the end of the tunnel but it’s 7 and a bit miles long and I could be doing with y’not passing out halfway.”

They decided to keep driving. Originally planning on having a rest night on the other side of the tunnel once they crossed into Italy, but Harry was feeling good and hadn’t driven much so was up for getting them to Pisa early so they could spend two nights rather than the one and get to see the city properly the next day.

The highway hypnosis and gentle rumble of the car paired with their early morning start, rocked Y/N to sleep for a little while nearly two hours into their journey, and Harry couldn’t help himself by continuously taking shy glances over at her. Constantly worried that the next time she’s going to be awake and catch him looking, but he just couldn’t stop himself, her softened, relaxed features were just so endearing to him. It comforted him to know she felt safe, secure, and relaxed enough to fall asleep while he drove. He let her sleep as long as he could before he became wary about her not being able to sleep tonight if she slept all the way until Pisa. He considered reaching over and gently shaking her awake. Considered it, then swiftly moved on from that because at heart, Harry was a little shit to Y/N. A menace, and always had been over the nearly fifteen years they knew each other, and that wasn’t about to change now. He pulled over at a quiet part of the road and grabbed her phone that was still connected to the speakers, playing soft instrumental and orchestral music. He signed in with her passcode and entered her Apple Music tab, quickly finding the song he wanted and queuing it to play next before starting off down the road again. As the previous song faded into nothing, Harry quickly spun the volume dial and thought to himself, when in Italy. As the rousing opening to ‘Volare’ blasted through the car speakers, so loud the car 100 metres in front of them could probably hear it. Y/N shrieked awake and jumped so high her head brushed the roof of the car as Harry cackled.

“What in the actual fuck, Harry?!” she clutched her chest as Harry kept laughing.

“Y’needed to wake up or you’re not going to sleep t’night, so I woke you up,” he kept laughing, turning the music down to a volume that wasn’t threatening to burst their eardrums.

“So, you decided to do that by nearly giving me a heart attack?” she asked dumbfounded her heartrate slowly ticking back down to a more sensible rhythm. “You’re an actual dickhead, Harry Styles.”

“Shut up and singalong, y’love this song,” he grinned wickedly at her.

“Where are we, anyway?” she asked stretching her arms above her head, finally adjusting to being awake again.

“Just passed Genoa, f’you look out my window we might be able to see the water in a second,” Harry glanced out trying to see the sparkling blue of the Ligurian Sea as he began softly humming along to the song.

***

As they reached Pisa, things were going the same way they had went in Paris. Agreeing they were far too exhausted to do anything that night, at least they had an entire day and night tomorrow to explore and see the city. It was really beneficial for Y/N to be friends with Harry, who had friends, everywhere. They were staying in another borrowed apartment from one of his friends for the next two nights, this one slightly more extravagant with a large balcony and two bedrooms so they wouldn’t be squished in together, Harry didn’t know if this was a positive or a negative, but it also meant that one of them didn’t have to be banished to a pull-out either. They were picking up the keys from Harry’s mate in the centre of town near a restaurant his friend had also recommended so they opted to get take-out from there, after Harry pulled out some awful joke about them having a ‘Pisa Pizza’ to take back and eat to settle down for the night.

Harry pulled up and parked in a space a few down from the restaurant, and before Y/N even reached for her belt to undo it, he stopped her. “Jus’ you wait here, sleepy, I won’t be too long,” he uttered before reaching across and tucking strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Hmm, okay,” Y/N yawned before reaching down to her bag, “take this though, an’ I mean it this time, H, don’t even try and give it back or you’ll be spoiling for a fight,” she ordered before shoving a few folded-up Euros into his palm to pay for dinner. Rolling his eyes, he pocketed the cash and got out the car.

She had been scrolling her phone when Harry returned with a set of keys between his teeth and carrying two pizza boxes in his hands, a plastic bag balanced on top, and a paper bag tucked under his arm. Y/N reached over and popped open the driver’s door, so he didn’t have to struggle, and he handed her the boxes and plastic bag, filled with their food, in for her to hold.

“What’s with the other bag,” she looked over as Harry kept hold of the paper bag before reaching back over the seats and depositing it into his backpack that had made its way into the backseat rather than the boot.

“Jus’ somethin’ for tomorrow night and maybe something else for another night,” he had a knowing smirk plastered on his face as she quirked an eyebrow at him but was far too tired to push it any further. She’d find out eventually.

The rest of their evening passed in a sleepy sort of haze, having got into the apartment, eating their dinner, taking turns showering and completing their night-time routines. With full bellies, they bade each other goodnight and slunk away into their respective bedrooms. Although they both admitted to themselves that they missed the closeness of each other through the brick wall that now separated them. They had been in each other’s pockets the last few days and now not having the option to reach out and touch or feel the other’s warmth was missed, but they’ll keep those thoughts to themselves.

***

Their day in Pisa had started off busy and got lazier as it progressed which was perfect for them and exactly what they wanted out of the trip. They felt they had to go and see the tower in all its leaning glory and made the move to go first thing in the morning to avoid the most amount of people as they could. They took the classic tourist snapshots of pushing and pulling the tower before handing Harry’s camera to an older man to take a photo of the pair of them. They smiled and said ‘Grazie’ generously to the gentleman before giving the camera to a woman who passed them a few moments later to try again, as the older man’s fingertip was definitely, at least partially, covering the lens.

They spent the rest of the morning wandering piazzas and side streets, in shops and taking photos. A new pair of sandals for Y/N later, as the strap snapped on her own as they walked, and pictures of Harry posed with a bottle of balsamic vinegar he had purchased, they decided they needed a pick me up. Walking into a trattoria, Harry ordered coffees and food for them to share in the best Italian that he had learnt from his friends and the Duolingo subscription he raved about to her.

“This is weird, y’know,” he noted, sipping on his coffee as they sat outside on metal chairs that never sat quite level on the ground and a matching bistro table that wobbled if you so much as brushed against it.

“What’s that?” she questioned, peering at him through the yellow of his sunglasses he had placed on her face as she sat down in the seat that the sun was glaring onto as Harry sat with his back to it.

“Sitting down and having a coffee,” he hummed before tearing off a corner of bread and dipping it into the oil and balsamic mixture and popping it into his mouth.

“How’s that weird?” she enquired further as she took a drink of her own coffee.

“Suppose not s’much having the coffee, more the act of being able to sit down and drink it. I don’t really get t’do this much anymore. If I get a coffee, or anything really, it’s like okay, get it to go, move, onto the next place, or the next thing, don’t stop or it could cause a scene,” he rambles. “I’m just happy I can sit here and enjoy this, and we can take our time and we can chat or not chat if we don’t want to, we can spend as long as want,” he paused taking in his surroundings before looking down at his lap and furrowing his eyebrows, “ignore me, it’s stupid,” he tried brushing it off.

“Hey, look at me,” she said, pushing the sunglasses back into her hair before his eyes met hers. “It’s not stupid, it’s not. You’re just appreciating being able to see the world go by for the first time since you were 16, Har, it’s a big deal,” she responded. “It’s like we’re hiding you in plain sight,” she had a sort of mischievous glint in her eye because they’ve managed this far going undetected.

“Thank you, Y/N/N, really,” he smiled, “genuinely, I wouldn’t want to do this trip with anyone but you.”

“Thank fuck for that because I’ve made it this far with you, would be a bit shite if you had changed your mind now,” she laughed as his dimples popped in a responding peel of laughter. “We can do this as much as y’want you know,” her tone turning into a mixture of being serious but also reassuring, “if you want to stop for a coffee, or smell the flowers or sit and gorge on pasta on a busy terrace at a restaurant where no one knows it’s you, say the word an’ we’ll stop.”

That’s what they did the rest of the afternoon, walking aimlessly wherever their feet took them, discovering tourist spots and hidden gems, stopping to read a chapter of their books, they had bought from a second-hand book shop on a tiny side street, while perched on the wall of a fountain in a bustling Piazza and for dinner they had done just what Y/N had suggested, filling themselves up on pasta while sat on a terrace as the evening sun faded around them.

***

They were sitting on the balcony of the apartment now as Harry poured their wine glasses full of the additional bottle of wine, he had bought from the restaurant for them to share when they got back.

“Cheers,” he raised his glass in the air, gripping it by the stem as he tilted the bowl of the glass to hers.

“Thought you were supposed to be great at Italian,” she said picking up her own glass but not letting the glass chime together yet, “they say Salute here, so Salute, look me in the eye as well or 7 years of bad sex is coming your way,” she giggled catching his gaze before letting the rim of the glasses clip together in a pleasing, twinkly sound. They both took a swig from the glass and afterwards Harry put his down abruptly on the table and stood up.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot,” and he dashed back through the open doors into the apartment.

“Forgot what?” she called in after him, still cradling her own wine glass, taking another sip letting the alcohol warm her from the inside out.

Harry came back with a small decorative bowl, placing it in the centre of the table and the brown paper bag from yesterday in his clutches. His eyes gleamed at her as he rustled through the bag, looking for something in particular. Firstly, he pulled out a lighter and placed it down onto the table, the second thing came soon after. A joint, perfectly pre-rolled in pink rolling paper. “This is also why I had to meet to get the keys in person,” he confided.

“Bloody hell, H, we’ve not done this for a while, thought you just got sleepy from smoking?” Y/N took another mouthful of wine before sitting the glass down and scooching her chair closer to his.

“Mm, I do, most of the time, this is a different strain though, so we’ll see what happens, y’up for it?” he asked sincerely, if she wasn’t, he’d forget all about it.

“Of course, I’m up for it,” she grinned reaching for the lighter on the table, “what else you got in the bag?”

“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Sweetness,” he spoke vaguely, before placing the joint between his lips and leaning forward to let her spark it to life. He inhaled deeply, feeling it catch in his throat ever so slightly from being out of practice. He let the feeling settle in his lungs before steadily exhaling into the cooling summer air before ashing the joint into the bowl he brought with him and passing it to Y/N. Through sips of wine, deep inhales, ashes and exhales they passed their evening with soft conversation and fits of giggles.

“Can’t believe y’broke y’bloody shoe out walking today,” he tittered before drinking down his wine before topping up his own glass and hers.

“Aw don’t,” she whined, “I loved those sandals,” the full of her lip pouted before she took another drag.

“More importantly, can’t believe the way you tripped when it broke,” he was cackling now at the memory of her earlier in the day, “I mean, fuck, y’nearly stacked it into the fountain,” he struggled to get out through his laughter, tapping off the joint she passed him back.

“Oh, piss off,” she tried to keep her face serious, but Harry’s face lit up with laughter was hard to resist as she fell subject to her own giggling.

They finished the joint and the wine between the pair of them. Letting the effects settle into their bodies for a little while, feeling more relaxed than euphoric.

“Well, I better go drink a shit load of water and go sleep to sober up since m’driving in the morning,” Y/N began, standing to her feet, gathering the empty wine bottle and their empty glasses that were stained with lip marks and fingerprints.

Harry stood to his feet as well, cleaning up everything else and tucking his paper bag back under his arm as they both toddled back into the apartment, shutting the balcony doors behind them. Popping everything they had brought in with them into the kitchen for them to tidy up in the morning before they continued their journey. They met again in the hallway outside the two bedroom doors as they said goodnight to each other.

Harry couldn’t help himself in wrapping her in a warm hug, “thank you for today, really,” he whispered into her hair.

“Don’t be silly,” she murmured back, wrapping her arms around his waist, letting her fingers dance on his spine as they swayed on the spot.

“It meant a lot to me, today is right up there as one of my top 5 days, ever,” Harry kept going giving her a little squeeze.

“God, you’ve turned into a right wet wipe while you’ve been away, eh?” they broke away from their embrace as Y/N snickered.

“Piss off,” he breathed out a laugh in return. Then he done it, he just couldn’t stop himself, his body already moving before the thought crossed his mind. He placed a delicate kiss upon the corner of her mouth and their eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips down. They blinked their eyes open at each other as Harry pulled back, a soft smile playing at their both their lips, then he done it again, just a bit closer to the target this time. He took her bottom lip between his and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her lips before he stood back to his full height and quietly laughed again as they looked at each other.

They both turned to enter their rooms for the evening before Y/N said, looking over her shoulder, “Oi, H, I want to hear what the rest of those top 5 days are at one point,” she beamed as they both closed their bedroom doors. The pair of them ghosting their fingertips over their lips where they kissed.

***

“D’you think the car sounds dodgy?” she asked trying to listen closely to the car, something was definitely making a noise that wasn’t there before.

Harry reached over and turned the volume of the music right down to listen closely, “eh, there might be something a little off, it’ll be fine though, we’re not driving that long this morning,” he said sincerely turning the volume back up. She glanced over at him, both her hands gripping the steering wheel as she captained them on the drive to Rome. Harry was talking a gulp of his coffee from his to go cup, baring his teeth round the steaming, bitter liquid as it seared down his throat.

“You’re only saying that, so I won’t get dead concerned, aren’t you?” Y/N uttered softly.

“Maybe,” Harry drew out the word, a glint in his green eyes, “but maybe not. You’re concerned no matter what I say, correct?” Harry passed her, her own coffee cup so she could take a drink when she made a grabby hand towards it.

“Just a little bit,” she said handing him the cup back after gulping it down so he could put it down in the cupholder.

“Let’s just get to Rome and we’ll deal with it if it becomes a problem,” he reached over squeezing her knee in reassurance as she let out a slow breath trying to push the engine noise to the back of her mind and enjoy their route to Rome.

***

Harry was directing Y/N through the streets of Rome from a map on his phone and as they approached the area they were staying in, Harry spoke. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she muttered, not fully listening as she was focusing on her driving as the cobbled roads were narrow, and they were surrounded by pedestrians.

“Where we’re staying t’night, y’might recognise it,” a smile evident in his voice, “take a left here, doll and park up, we need to walk a little, not much parking on our street.” Y/N done the best parallel park of her life and killed the engine giving him a bemused smile at Harry’s vagueness. Harry took both their overnight bags after he slipped his backpack on his shoulders. After she grabbed her smaller bag, she reached to take her overnight bag off him, “s’fine Sweets, I’ve got it.” They walked down the road they had parked on as Harry kept an eye on his phone map making sure he took her down the correct street, “ready?” he asked as they stood at the corner of the street they were turning down. She nodded her head eagerly and followed him round, letting a soft gasp leave her mouth as she saw the stone buildings that were covered in sprawling ivy. Catching the street sign above her head, her eyes shot to Harry’s who was stood in front of her, their bags resting on the cobbled road as he took a picture of her face flushed with the heat, eyes bright with excitement a wide grin spread across her lips as a bubble of laughter that he would compare to wind chimes left her.

“Via Margutta? From ‘Roman Holiday’? You’re actually having a laugh, Harry!” Y/N all but launched herself at Harry who had to catch her quickly before they both landed on the cobbles.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he tried unlatching her vice grip, she had around his neck, “okay, okay, let me look at you,” he pried her hands off and held her by the wrists as they both laughed, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

“How did you do this?” she asked shaking her head as she looked around the street she knew so well from the screen.

“Saw it online when I was looking for a place for us to stay, know ‘Roman Holiday’ is your favourite, so I just had to,” he shrugged. She didn’t quite have the words to say how much it meant to her or even begin to process how thoughtful he had been, so she just hugged him, another bone-crushing hug that she just hoped got across how happy and grateful she was and Y/N assumes it did when she felt his lips pucker against the top of her head and his arms wrap around her as they embraced in the middle of the cobbles.

***

Just as they left the apartment Harry stopped her and tied a silk neck scarf around her throat that he had been carrying in his pocket. “Now you look the part, Audrey Hepburn,” he booped the end of her nose before positioning her in the middle of the street, taking a couple of pictures of her on his camera, before pulling out his phone to get one of her on there as well.

“Wait, take one with me,” Y/N reached towards him.

“Nope, this is all you this time, Miss Hepburn,” he took a few extra candid shots before he stretched out his hand to grab hers and be on their way. They had both explored Rome extensively, both separately and together so weren’t rushing to the major tourist hot spots, however on their walk they noticed the Trevi fountain was only about 10 minutes from the apartment and had to stop by for a wish. Y/N dug through her purse to find them both a coin and stood side by side holding hands, fluttered their eyes closed and wished, tossing the coin over their shoulders.

“Y’know the rules H, so don’t even ask,” Y/N warned him before he even had the chance to open his mouth.

“Yeah, well, didn’t want to know your wish anyway,” he pouted defiantly.

“Don’t lie, you so want to know,” she smirked.

“Whatever,” Harry rolled his eyes playfully before leading them out of the piazza, “right c’mon I’ve got something for us to do tonight.”

“Ooh, what’s that?” Y/N quizzed.

“You’ll just need to follow me and find out, won’t you?” he kept walking. They walked for nearly 40 minutes, they probably could have done it in half that, but Harry just kept stopping her to take pictures of them both, but mostly her, as the summer sun sunk down around them, casting her in a warm glow. “The lightings perfect, just stop for a sec,” and “wait, jus’ one more f’me,” and utterances of “so beautiful,” as he looked through his viewfinder and at the screen of his phone as he clicked away happily. Y/N had to agree, the lighting and backdrop of the city was beautiful, she didn’t know that Harry was more so calling his subject matter beautiful.

“Fun fact, this is the oldest bridge in Rome,” Harry said stopping in front of it.

“Yeah?” she replied looking up at him as he took in the area.

“Mhm, according to google, the Ponte Fabrico,” he put on his best accent, which to be fair, was actually pretty good.

“Where does said old bridge, lead us to?” she toyed with her neck scarf.

“Isola Tiberina, or Tiber Island,” Harry pointed towards the opposite end of the bridge as they began walking over it, “there’s a couple of mad myths about the island but we’re not here for that, they do a film festival every summer, while we’re not seeing a film, they have like pop-up bars and restaurants, thought we could just take a wander round, eat, drink, be merry y’know,” he smiled letting her loop her arm in his as she stumbled over a cobblestone that was raised higher than the surrounding ones.

“It’s so beautiful,” Y/N sighed while noticing the tents that lined the island along the river as they made their way onto the island.

They ate and drank their way around the island, rating each of their samples of food on a scale of 1 to 5 but nothing really scoring under a 3.5. Y/N eventually had Harry help her untie the neck scarf that was beginning to feel claustrophobic in the evening heat and after the couple of cocktails they had been drinking began to affect her. He gripped her wrist and tied it around there instead in a pretty bow for her as they finished up their evening on the island and began to walk back to the apartment. Slowly, with no intention of rushing themselves back. Stumbling over each other, not in drunkenness but more of a happy daze.

“You tired?” Harry asked opening the door to the apartment and going towards his backpack.

“Not really,” Y/N responded undoing the silk scarf from her wrist and taking her earrings out, a move that always made her feel more comfortable when coming home.

“Great, I’ve got something else for us,” and Harry shook the paper bag that had held their shared joint from the previous evening, before dropping it into another tote bag he had prepared that seemed to be stuffed with something soft.

“I don’t think we can smoke in here, H, even with the windows open,” she said.

“We’re not smoking, thought we could go up to the roof as well, there’s a deck up there and they have a rooftop pool, as he popped the front door open again for her. They got up to the roof and sat down at the little table and chairs they had there, the rest of the terrace was filled up by the pool sunken into the ground and the tiles were spilling over with potted plants tucked in every nook and cranny around it. Y/N was enamoured looking out over the city and the rooftops of Rome before them.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed and when she turned round, he had been watching her, before blinking and shaking himself out of his reverie. Reaching for the paper bag he turned it upside down and a thin block wrapped in foil fell into his hand. He quickly peeled back the foil and placed the block of chocolate onto the wrought-iron table in front of them.

“You brought me up here, t’eat chocolate?” She deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I also thought we could take a dip, I brought towels,” he nodded towards his overfilled tote bag, “it’s not just normal chocolate though.”

“Right Willy Wonka, what d’you mean it’s not normal chocolate?” She grabbed the bar and realised the second she brought it closer to her face when she could smell it, “y’got us edibles?” and he nodded. “Cannabis is a gateway drug, you should know,” she smirked as she snapped the bar into squares.

“Gateway to what?” Harry snorted, “having fun, relaxing, and enjoying our holiday? Plus, I’m pretty sure we’ve done worse,” Harry laughed as they both picked up a square and let it melt on their tongues before eating. Harry wasn’t sure how strong it was, so they decided to cut themselves off after a few squares each, just to see how it hit them before overindulging.

It was around 45 minutes later when the pair started to feel it, Harry began quietly giggling to himself as his eyes were drawn to the lights that cast a glow over the landmarks of the city which caused Y/N to start giggling at his giggling.

“We should swim, I wanna swim, can we swim?” she asked him, standing up grabbing his tote and pulling out the two large yellow and white striped towels he had shoved in there, and she lay them flat on the terrace next to the pool.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled, grabbing her hand to pull himself from his seat as he emptied his pocket of his phone and the key to the apartment and left it with the remaining chocolate on the table. They both kicked off their shoes before Y/N stopped. “What’s wrong?” he looked over at her, still playing with her hand in his grip, enjoying the feeling of her warm fingers, entwined with his own.

“Don’t have m’swimsuit on, do I?” Y/N grumbled.

“That’s never stopped you, c’mon let’s just jump in,” he tugged on her hand, “sort of like we’re jumping off the roof innit, like we’re on the roof right now and we’re about to jump in a pool.”

“But the pools still on the roof,” she countered, “you’re so high,” giggling, Y/N kicked off her trousers anyway, leaving her in her underwear and t-shirt, as Harry quickly peeled off his own jeans, the idea of wet denim clinging his skin enough to put him off wearing them in the water.

“Shh, let me have this, we’re jumping, in 3..2..1,” and with that, Harry quickly plugged his nose with his free hand and they leapt from the pool edge, the warm water splashing up around them. As they resurfaced Harry had a wild-eyed look as he felt the material of his blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt cling to his torso as it became soaked in water. “Y’look like Cousin Itt,” he laughed looking at his best friend, helping her scrape back all her hair that had covered her face, upon the impact in the water, with clumsy hands.

“My feet don’t reach the bottom, will y’help me?” Harry doesn’t know why she asked, not that he would have said no, but she didn’t really give him the option or time to reject her either as she latched her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and gripped him like she was a koala. They waded around like that for a while, giggling at the feeling of the water tickling against their skin, every now and again, Harry would squat down and dip both their heads under the water and they would come back up gasping when they forgot to take deep enough breaths.

As their high was peaking, they decided to get out the water and lie down on the towels and let the warm evening air dry their skin a bit. As Y/N joined Harry lying down on their backs, she felt every bone in her back click and pop as she lay against the flat tile ground.

“Jesus Christ, was tha’ you’re back?” he looked over open-mouthed in shock at the loud crack.

“Mhm, think my spines just, like, moving everything back in place from the driving,” she sighed, feeling immensely relaxed from the satisfying bone pop, the weed as well mellowing her out. They lay there for a while, taking in the inky swirls of the night sky that was littered with tiny, glittery dots of stars.

“It’s big, innit?” Harry whispered into the night.

“Hm?” she mused.

“The sky, s’big.”

“Yeah, there’s a fair bit of it,” she huffed a laugh through her nose.

“Makes me feel tiny, insignificant,” he kept his eyes trained on the sky. Y/N furrowed her brow and rolled on her side to look at his side profile. He glanced down to look at her and seen her furrowed brow before his view went back to the stars, “not insignificant in the way you’re thinking, more in a broader sense. Like me and you are just little specks aren’t we, in the grand scheme of things, nothing we do matters in comparison to the universe.”

“Yeah, I guess, but what we do now in our lifetimes matters now and affects stuff around us now, and that’s significant enough,” Y/N mused, “and if we’re just little specks, then you’re my favourite speck an’ everything you do matters to me, promise,” she prodded his side before he finally rolled over to face her.

“You’re my favourite speck too,” Harry mused before leaning forward and nudging his nose against her cheek as they both fell into fits of giggles again. “I really missed you,” Harry finalised as Y/N reached up to tuck his hair back that had begun to curl as the pool water dried from his locks.

“I missed you, too, an insane amount really. Which is weird because we’ve been apart longer when you’ve been on the road, but think it was, like, ‘cause I had zero option to see you an’ there was nothing we could do to change it,” she kept carding her fingers through his soft hair, her heightened senses making it seem like she could feel every single strand as it passed over her skin.

“Mmm, let’s never do that again, yeah? Our daily calls really got me through it, no matter how late they were sometimes,” he smiled at her, leaning into her touch.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, the time difference thing still fucks me up,” she giggled, her mouth splitting into a wide grin.

“Your smile is something else,” Harry complimented, thumb coming up to caress her cheek before running along her bottom lip. “Brightest star in the sky is right in front of me,” he whispered again. Then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. It was different than the kiss shared in Pisa. This one was more charged, and both felt a tingling under their melded lips and shocks under every touch and brush of skin. They broke away to catch their breath before blinking at each other and attaching their lips again, their tongues brushing against one another’s as Harry’s hand landed on her waist and her body shuddered forward to tuck herself in his hold, her hand in a fist, scrunching the still damp fabric of his t-shirt in its grip. Harry needed her closer, he gripped her hip and hitched it over his own, pressing their fronts together as they kissed deeply, Harry licking into her mouth, tasting sweet remnants of chocolate. Y/N still clutched the fabric of his t-shirt in one hand, the other reaching around to hold the back of his head, nails scratching at his scalp and the nape of his neck, causing Harry’s skin to erupt in goosebumps and a prickle of pleasure began to manifest in them both. They broke away properly this time, both rolling back onto their backs, staring back up at the night sky again and falling into bursts of laughter.

“I think we should go to bed, Harry,” she said through her airy laughter. They packed up, and eventually made their way back to the apartment where they both took quick showers to wash the pool water from them and changed for bed. The bed that they were sharing again tonight.

As they lay facing each other, Harry began to fall over the other side of his high, thankfully, considering he was driving in the morning again. Y/N however was still flushed and feeling the effects of the chocolate.

“Your eyes are like, crazy,” as she stared into them, “crazy good,” she quickly affirmed. “Like crazy pretty, they’re green but not, they also look clear which is mental, feel like y’can tell a lot by someone’s eyes,” she murmured.

“Yeah? What can y’tell from mine?” he entertained her thoughts.

“That you’re like an angel that walks among us,” she said seriously as Harry cackled into the quiet of the bedroom, “nooo, m’dead serious. Your eyes show that your kind, and lovely and that you never mean any harm and they show when you’re happy, they’re even prettier when you get all emotional, the tears make them look all sparkly, like… like glitter eyes,” she rambled out as Harry smiled and tried to stifle another laugh.

“Thank you, Sweetness, that’s nice of you to say, I think your eyes are super pretty too,” he said as she subconsciously batted her lashes at him in response, “but I think you should close them now and sleep, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she mumbled out before reaching out and attaching their lips together again, slower this time but no less passionate, with languid strokes of their tongues and soft hums coming from each other’s throats. Harry broke them apart as they both breathed deeply.

He uttered one final, “sleep,” before she fell under.

***

“You’re lying to me, if you don’t think the car definitely sounds a bit dodgy now,” Y/N piped up from the passenger seat.

“I don’t know if dodgy is the right word, different maybe? There’s definitely something different,” and with that he took a glance at her. She looks beautiful he thought, comfortable and so beautiful. She wore a t-shirt of his she had filched from him years ago, so worn and washed you could barely make out the graphic, it more so looking like it was covered in paint chips in varying tones and shades than any sort of image. Over that she had a soft cotton set of overalls or dungarees as she had corrected them when he complimented them this morning. “They’re fucking dungarees, Harry,” she had griped as he rolled his eyes. They had wandered round and took some more pictures this morning, a quick visit back up to the roof terrace where another occupant of the building took a picture of the two of them leaning over the railing before getting back in the car for the drive to their next destination.

“I don’t think I like it being different,” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“Different can be good,” Harry mused, last night and the night before that’s kisses going unmentioned but hanging and colouring the air around them.

“Yeah… but I don’t think that applies to cars, gorgeous,” she was right, he didn’t mean different good about the car. The pet name she called him was pealing in his head like a bell, reverberating against the sides of his skull. She had called him that before, but it felt different now, good different.

“No probably not, listen just turn the music up, Sweetness, drown it out, there’s no lights on the dashboard saying something’s wrong. The car’s not been used for long distances in a hot minute s’probably just not used to it, I promise you, we’ll be fine,” Harry reassured her, knowing sometimes she just needed him to tell her it was all going to be fine when her mind started to run too fast for her to catch up with, he was her pause, her reprieve.

***

They had decided to make one pit stop on their route to their destination. Y/N’s uncle had engrained the phrase ‘see Naples and die,’ in her from a young age, as long as she could remember actually and neither of the pair of them had ever actually stopped in the city before and sure enough it was beautiful. She couldn’t help but take multiple photos of the colourful buildings that lined the port, like little houses made of sweets, while boats bobbed in the water that lapped at the brick surround. Y/N stopped Harry every few paces taking photos of him against the technicolour backdrop and then asked someone to take one of the duo on her phone that was immediately used as her lockscreen, a house of turquoise and pink sat next to one of a tangerine orange behind them and Harry’s arm over her shoulder and her own hand against his waist. The pose they continued to hold as they walked along the waterfront before Harry pulled them into a restaurant, he had found online in his 2-minute search for traditional Neapolitan pizza.

“Genuinely, I think that’s the best pizza I’ve ever eaten,” Harry said dreamily as he rubbed the little food-baby pooch that had appeared at his stomach as they settled back in the car for Harry to finish the drive.

“I think I’ll be thinking about that sauce and cheese for the rest of my life, y’sure y’don’t want me to drive?” she asked as Harry was fastening his seatbelt.

“Postive,” he grinned at her, starting the car, “you’ve seen Naples then, reckon you’re happy to die now?”

“Mmm, maybe not right this second, we’ve got a few more places to see and things to do first H, but I get what my uncle meant now, it’s so beautiful,” she grabbed her phone beginning to swipe through the dozens of pictures that had been added to her camera roll from their visit, including one of Harry with the biggest cheese pull, connecting his mouth and the pizza he was eating, she had ever seen along with the dribble of tomato sauce down his chin, proving it wasn’t just her who was the messy eater.

“I think I’d be a bit gutted if you croaked it now, Y/N/N,” Harry huffed a soft laugh.

“Yeah?” she glanced over at him.

He quickly glanced over at her, catching her gaze as he furrowed his brow. “Devastated,” he said seriously, nodding, before leaving it at that as he re-joined the main road out of Naples.

***

“Buongiorno Amalfi!!!” Harry shouted with the windows rolled down letting the warm coastal breeze blow their hair around as he gave some rendition of the big crescendo of ‘Nessun Dorma,’ that was more shrieking than anything remotely related to opera as Y/N doubled over in fits of giggles.

“Catch yourself on, Pavarotti,” she laughed as she scraped her hair off her face that had covered it as the wind blew it around.

“You’re going to love it here, Y/N/N,” Harry looked delighted as he drove the coastal road to the town of Positano. “Don’t shout at me, though.”

“Why would I shout at you?” she queried, turning in her seat to face him.

“I’ve, uh, booked us somewhere a bit nicer to stay rather than the apartment I sent you,” his face flushed.

“H, we agreed on flats and apartments,” Y/N whined slightly, she hated when he did extravagant things for her, she never wanted him to feel like she expected it.

“No, I know, but we’re stopping here for a little while, thought we would want something a bit more comfortable an’ I feel like we deserve it, you definitely do for putting up with me,” Harry smiled as he pulled up to a private gate before pulling out his phone and his notes app for the gate code, managing to put it in by reaching through the window this time rather than having to pop the door open. As the gate swung open, they were confronted with the large villa, the walls painted a cream colour, with teal shutters and sprawling pink bougainvillea flowers blooming across the walls and terraces.

Harry let out a low whistle as they took in the sight, “shit, I’m trying my best to be so angry at you for this but it’s so pretty,” Y/N sighed as Harry brought the car to a stop in front of the house.

Harry let her into the villa to explore with another code from his notes app and leaves her to it while he collects their luggage from the car bringing in their bigger bags as well as their over-nights as this was going to be their base for the next while. Harry left their bags at the front door and was on his way to find Y/N who had vanished by the time he returned, he let the air conditioning of the property soothe his clammy skin as he meandered from room to room on the lookout for his favourite person.

He found her eventually, out on the tiny balcony of one of the guest bedrooms, small enough that only one person could stand on it with no room for any seating, he watched her from his place against the bedroom door frame, as the gossamer curtains of the balcony doors swathed around her back as she leant against the railing, leaning out, taking in the view. He walked quietly up behind her before placing his hands on either side of her, gripping the railing she was leant on, she didn’t even flinch as she felt his warm body sidle up behind her.

“See something you like?” he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked out, able to catch a glimpse of the sea and the pebbled beach below.

“This is ridiculous,” she hummed, “places like this aren’t supposed to exist in real life.”

“Well, f’you like this one, I can do you one better,” Harry gripped her wrist and pulled her back through the guest bedroom and into another bedroom, apparently the master going by its size and grandeur in comparison. He pulled back similar gossamer curtains and opened the double doors out onto a terrace with tiled flooring and a pergola roof that had more of the perfumed bougainvillea flowers sprawled across the gaps. The terrace was equipped with a table and chairs for two at one end and a day bed at the other, but the real prize was the view. A full unobstructed sea view, where they could see how the waves sparkled as they crashed into each other under the bright sun, watching bodies mull around in the water, letting it cool their sun-soaked skin.

“Fucking hell, Harry,” Y/N breathed out, seemingly astounded by the view and the place they got to call home for the next little while.

“Pretty, innit?” he grinned at her.

“Understatement of the century, Har,” her eyes were wide as saucers trying to take it all in while letting the soft perfume of the bougainvillea flowers wash over her senses, the salt-air of the sea below them mixing into the fragrance.

“Thought we could take a walk this afternoon, explore a bit, take a walk along the beach, dip our toes in the water,” Harry dreamed up their afternoons plans as he took up place beside Y/N as she leant against the balcony, bumping his hip against hers. “Then on the way back up, do a bit of shopping to stock up the house for our stay, we could stay in and cook together tonight, eat out here, enjoy the view,” he plucked one of the paper-like pink flowers from the trailing plants and placed it in her hair by her ear before he bumped her hip again, “what d’ya think of that, sweets?” She nodded her head eagerly as she spun to face him as she stared into his face, watching how his dimples carved their way into his face, leaving perfect little pockets in which she would like to leave a kiss. Admiring the smattering of freckles that had begun to appear across the high planes of his face from where the warm sun has brushed his skin. His bright eyes glittering at Y/N’s obvious excitement for their plans.

Harry’s plans came to fruition in record time, finishing a quick tour around the house they were quick to grab what they would need for the afternoon, not before Harry was ensuring Y/N’s shoelaces were tied tight because there were a lot of steps and hills and the last thing he needs is her tripping and cracking her head like it was an egg and he wouldn’t put it past his clumsy girl. Sorry, the clumsy girl, she wasn’t his, much to Harry’s disdain. They were staying a 5-minute walk from Fornillo Beach so made their way there first, where they could kick their shoes off and walk through the sand of this particular beach as the others were pebbled. They let the warm water of the Tyrrhenian Sea wash over their feet and lap at their ankles as Y/N’s dungarees were cropped and Harry had changed into a pair of striped shorts for the occasion. They kicked splashes of the salty spray at each other as they frolicked in the surf, Y/N nearly dropping her tote bag into the water as she dodged one of his splashes. They took a tonne more photos, Harry getting very snap happy with his camera, taking an obscene number of candid shots of her as she took in everything around them, to the point he had to put a new reel of film in as they left the beach. Y/N wasn’t slick though, Harry kept catching her taking sly photos of him on her phone in his peripheral and would see her smile softly down at the screen as she reviewed them. He kept his mouth shut though and approached a couple on the beach to take a photo of the pair, ankle-deep in the water for them.

“I can’t wait to scrapbook the shit out of all these photos,” Y/N bubbled as they climbed the steps away from the beach finally.

“I’m going to be a bloody fortune getting all these film photos printed,” Harry muttered as he tucked his camera away into its bag and squeezing that into his own tote bag.

“I’m sure it won’t break the bank, H,” she teased as she pinched his arm before looping her free arm through his as they climbed the steps carefully, making their way to the little market Harry had visited when he was last here where they could stock up the villa for their stay.

Y/N’s favourite version of Harry was this one, and those that could fall into the same category, and that was him doing seemingly mundane tasks, in this case doing his weekly food shop. She was back out with her phone camera in an instant, taking pictures of him reading the back packaging of pastas, photos of him bathed in the fluorescent lighting of the refrigerators as he picked out meats and cheeses and even a little video of him in the produce section holding out a tomato to her like he just couldn’t contain himself, “I mean, Jesus, just give this a whiff, you can smell how fresh it is, Y/N/N.”

Harry was glad he tucked an extra tote in his own because across the three bags they carried now, they were all fit to bursting. Bottles of wine shoved down the sides, fish and meat wrapped up, blocks of cheese in crinkly paper, their fresh produce balancing on top as not to get squished. Harry nearly had a heart attack and all the fresh bread options in the bakery and was going back with an additional loaf with a crisp crust tucked under his arm that he couldn’t fit in the bags with the other ones they just had to try. Before they walked back to the villa, they found themselves sitting on the step outside the market splitting the Amalfi speciality ‘Delizia al Limone’, that they made fresh in store. They moaned around bites of the sponge and custard dessert, the lemony glaze being so refreshingly tart.

“It’s only been a few hours, and I reckon I could stay here forever, y’know,” Y/N gushed as she licked a stray glob of the lemon glaze off her fingertip. Harry had to blink hard to stop staring at her sucking the digit into her mouth.

“We could always jus’ run away here forever, we’d have a ball I think,” Harry said as he pulled himself to his feet taking two of the tote bags and slinging them over his shoulders before reaching down to pull her up by the hand as she held onto the final bag.

“Hmm, just you n’me?” she contemplated, beginning their walk back to the villa.

“Mhm, just us,” Harry reiterated trying to reach for the bag she was carrying for him to carry as well but she just swatted her hand away and placed the strap on her shoulder furthest from him.

“An’ I’ll be the woman who stole Harry Styles away and locked him up in her villa in the quiet streets of Italy, never to return, m’not sure about that one,” she dramatised.

“You make it sound like somethin’ out of Beauty and the Beast,” Harry tittered turning them up another set of stairs.

“You’re for sure the beast then, ‘specially with that Stache you’ve got brewing, keep that up and it’ll maybe be a real, full moustache by the time we go back to England,” Y/N taunted him.

“Oi, I resent that…” Harry began, “you’re definitely all beauty anyway,” he murmured the last part, Y/N not quite hearing them as a tour group passed them down the steps.

***

They made it back to the villa shortly after and packed away their shopping before deciding to start on their dinner for the evening, deciding on a pasta full of all the fresh vegetables they had bought earlier. They split the chopping and stirring between them as they snacked on antipasti they had bought while dancing around the kitchen to the playlist of instrumental and orchestral music he had been listening to recently. Just before everything was ready, Y/N opted on them dining on the balcony attached to the larger bedroom as Harry had suggested earlier so was taking everything they could need or want out there, setting up the little table that overlooked the sea. She uncorked a bottle of wine and filled their glasses full, and placed cutlery and napkins at their table along with some of the bread Harry so desperately needed. As she was about to turn back in to see if Harry needed any help, he was already walking out towards her with a steaming pasta bowl in each hand and a dish towel lazily thrown over his shoulder. He nudged her with his hip into her seat and presented her dinner in front of her as she groaned at how good it smelt.

“Bloody hell, H, you’ve outdone yourself here,” she said as he cracked some black pepper over the top of her plate for her.

“You helped,” he smiled as he took his own seat.

“I chopped some peppers and stirred the sauce, wouldn’t call myself a chef,” she laughed.

“Hey, every chef needs his sous-chef,” Harry raised his wine glass to hers letting them clink softly together as they both took a sip before reaching for their forks to dig in.

“You’re too good to me,” Y/N sighed around her first bite, letting her eyes flutter shut at the taste as Harry watched with a shit-eating grin, overjoyed she was liking what he made.

Over dinner they discussed what they wanted to do while they were there, Y/N wanted to go to a museum she had seen on tripadvisor, as well as time on the beach with their books, and visits to all the little shops and some more time splashing in the water together. Harry mentioned something about a private boat trip to Capri he had seen advertised, that he had most definitely already booked for them before coming on the trip, but she didn’t need to know that. Something triggered the telling of an old story, and they began reminiscing about growing up together in fits of laughter at something that happened in their Year 10 science class and remembering when Y/N bumped off college for a week and a half to visit Harry while he was touring and they both realised that each of their favourite stories to tell people seemed to involve each other in every single one of them.

“Aw Y/N/N,” Harry sighed as he ate his last forkful, “y’were doing so well,” he nodded towards her t-shirt which now had a forkful of food that had fell off her own last bite.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whined at herself, scraping most of the food off back into her plate, leaving behind a reddish-orange stain in its wake.

“D’you want me to go get you a cloth or wipe or somethin’?” he chuckled.

“No, s’fine, I can jus-” she wriggled her right arm free of the t-shirt sleeve and then the left arm following that as Harry quirked an eyebrow at what she was doing, “what? It’s cool, the dungarees cover all m’bits and pieces,” and she pulled the t-shirt over her head without having to unclip her dungarees at all. Seemingly a professional at that move she’s had to do it so many times as she dumped the soiled t-shirt on the tiled terrace. Harry gulped as the top swell of her braless breasts became visible, it’s nothing he hadn’t seen of her before over the years, but after how he’s been feeling over this trip, he’s struggling to keep himself in check.

“Dance with me for a sec?” she questioned; they could still hear Harry’s playlist floating through the open balcony doors.

“Uh… yeah, mhm, sounds good,” Harry babbled, scraping his chair back, quickly lifting his wine glass to his lips and draining its contents as she followed suit. Y/N was the braver of the two, reaching up first to wrap her arms around his neck and lean her head against his chest, she could feel his warm skin radiate through the thin button-up shirt he wore and the pitter-patter of his heart thud in his chest. Harry’s arms tentatively wrapped around her waist, settling, for the time being, on the small of her back as they swayed in time to the quiet music in the background.

“This is m’favourite,” she whispered against his chest, he smelt of summer, a hint of citrus, sun cream and warm skin.

“It’s Tchaikovsky, I think, sweets” Harry replied, letting his nose run along the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her fruity shampoo.

“Not the song, H,” she breathed out a light laugh from her nose, “although it is pretty. Just being here, no in fact it’s not even here, it’s being with you, could be anywhere, being with you is my favourite, today’s location is just a bonus,” she said letting her eyes flutter and Harry could just about feel her eyelashes blink against his chest and then he felt her lips press a kiss onto his chest. His breath caught and his hands came back to her sides, thumbs rubbing careful circles as they climbed higher. The fabric of her dungarees dipped quite low on her sides and Harry’s hands continued climbing until they found purchase where the seam of fabric met her skin. His thumbs resting on the side of her breasts, the swell visible from the dip in the fabric. Her skin was soft under Harry’s touch as he kept rubbing and squeezing at her sides as she tilted her head back to investigate his face, her eyes as wide as saucers as Harry seemed to snap back into his body and realise what he was doing.

“Y/N, I-I…” he stammered out, lifting his hands off her sides leaving them hovering there, just not touching.

“No, s’okay, s’okay,” she unlatched her hands from around his neck gripping his wrists and putting his hands back where they were. “You can touch, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she reassured nodding her head before she reached up and placed a kiss on his jawline. Harry’s eyes slipped closed, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he breathed deeply at the sensation of her plush lips that continued placing kisses and light sucks to his cheek, jaw, and neck.

“Y/N/N,” Harry sighed lifting his head away from her lips immediate reach.

“Mhm?” she asked, their eyes searching each other’s, pupils becoming more blown out by the second.

“I- I jus’-” Harry tried to speak but it proved futile, they had no need for words anymore as Y/N began nodding her head at Harry’s unspoken question and he leant down and pressed their lips together. Their lips rolled and moulded together, Harry’s hands still pressing firmly at her sides, thumbs skimming the supple flesh of her side boob, as if he was trying to commit every ripple of skin, every pore and indentation to memory. He could eulogise her skin. Their kisses became hungrier, tongues meeting and licking the seam of each other’s lips, desperate for a taste. Stumbling towards the day bed, drunk on each other as Harry fell on his back as Y/N crawled over him, situating herself on his lap, feeling him growing beneath her as she gave an experimental roll of her hips against his own as he gasped into her mouth as they continued to kiss, breaking only to breathe as their lips still brushed. Her fingers began to play with the buttons of his shirt, waiting for his permission to begin undoing them. Harry’s hand came away from her side to latch onto her wandering hand to help her deftly undo the top button. After being allowed to do one, she quickly unfastened the rest on her own, pushing his shirt from his shoulders so it became a crumpled mess under his back. She giggled as she took in his bare torso and arms, the black ink of his tattoos hugging his skin, looking like he was born with them rather than something that was added later.

“What’re you giggling at, Sweetness?” Harry panted as their hips still rolled and grinded together.

“You’ve got a farmers tan, gorgeous,” she giggled again before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the tan line that wrapped around his bicep from the t-shirts he had been wearing, she nosed up his arm and across his shoulder, kissing her away across. “I like you all sun-kissed, look so healthy and glowy,” she kept kissing down his chest before feeling brave and licking across his nipple before biting softly into his pec.

“Y/N,” he groaned out before sitting up right with her still straddling him as she gasped at his movement, it bumped their pelvises together as they moved, and she had to bite down on her lip to silence the moan that crawled its way up her throat at the sensation. His hands came to her front and quickly undone the fastenings of her jumpsuit, flipping the straps backwards over her shoulders and letting the fabric cascade down her body to pool at her waist, keeping her bottom half covered but completely exposing her from the waist up. Harry felt his eyes widen, the curvature of her waist and breasts as they swelled as she breathed deep was doing a number on him, so soft, supple, and inviting. Her nipples hardening with the exposure to the fresh air had Harry leaning in, wrapping his lips around one, laving his tongue over the peak and sucking it into his mouth, his hand coming up to toy with the other, squeezing the swell of her breast in his hand, rolling her nipple between his fingers as she gasped and keened under his touch.

“More H, need more, gorgeous,” she huffed out as Harry broke away from his assault on her breasts, a string of saliva connecting him to her. His hands slid down to grip the fullness of her bum and he rolled them over so he was hovering between her legs as she laid on her back, her hands immediately going to the waistband of his shorts, pulling the tie undone and shoving them down as best she could. Harry helped her out when the fabric became caught up around the tops of his thighs and he kicked his legs free. Harry was visibly hard in his underwear, the bump hard to ignore, especially as he gave another roll of his hips towards Y/N’s as he moaned lowly in his throat at the friction. He gripped the bunched fabric of her overalls from around her waist and began to tug them down, becoming irritated when she refused to lift her hips to help him slide them down, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He leant back up her lips, kissing her deeply, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth, biting softly, and letting it snap back into place.

“Please,” he requested against her lips and Y/N lifted her hips immediately as he rolled her clothes down her body. Leaving her in her full coverage, orange striped underwear, Harry’s hands came down to play with the tiny piece of lace that wrapped around the waistline before toying with the satin bow that adorned the front.

“Sorry ‘bout the knickers, didn’t think I’d be getting them out to show off an’ impress anyone,” she said shyly, focusing on the feeling of Harry’s fingertips dancing at her lower stomach.

“God, believe me Y/N, m’impressed no matter what,” he groaned as he lifted the elastic waistline and let it snap back against her skin in a sharp bite. He stopped all ministrations and that point and let his eyes do the work, taking her in as she lay atop the day bed, hair splayed in a halo around her while her chest rose and fell in quick succession as she heaved in deep breaths.

“What’re you doing?” she breathed, reaching for his hands to interlock their fingers.

“Jus’ admiring, you’re so beautiful, Y/N/N,” Harry said sincerely, coming back to catch her gaze in his as his thumb rubbed the back of her knuckles of the hand that was gripping his.

Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she gave a bashful laugh before she latched her hands arms around his neck to pull him down towards her lips in a searing kiss. Well, what would’ve been a searing kiss if they hadn’t both dived into it open-mouthed.

“Ow! Jesus, m’fuckin tooth,” Harry groaned his hand coming up to check he hadn’t gone all bloody gummed when they’re teeth clashed in their plight to kiss one another.

“Oh my god,” she laughed, showing zero remorse.

“Don’t laugh, Y/N,” he whined.

“I’m so sorry, H,” Y/N tried to be serious, “open up and lemme see,” she managed to get out before she loudly cackled in his face slapping her hands over her mouth to contain her ringing laughter.

“Can’t believe I’m going t’need to go to the emergency dentist with toothache ‘cause I was that desperate to kiss you,” as they both laughed at the situation, “okay, be cool,” he pecked her lips, “s’fine, it didn’t happen,” he pecked her lips again.

“It did happen,” she muffled out lips pressing against his in more short pecks.

“Shh, no it didn’t, just act normal, we’re all good,” and he leant down and pulled her into the passionate kiss they had been aiming for before. They were separated only by the thin cotton of each of their underwear’s and they could feel everything as Harry worked his hips in slow rolls against hers. The heat radiating from their crotches as Y/N moaned and gasped at the firmness hidden in Harrys briefs ticking against her, him aiming perfectly so the little damp patch on her knickers was just transferring to his own. His kisses began to wander from her plush lips, across her cheek, sucking and leaving a blooming mark on the patch of skin just below her ear as she writhed at the sensation, Harry forcing his hips down against hers to keep her from wriggling away from the assault across her collarbones and décolletage, licking and biting more of his marks like a trail of breadcrumbs to lead him back to her lips that he was sure he would need as he got lost in his heaven between her legs. Y/N’s hands came down to card through his hair, giving light tugs when he would pinch another patch of skin on her lower tummy between his teeth. Harry’s own hands were busy too, running lengths up and down her legs, letting his fingertips coast under the elastic of her panties that sat around each leg before they breezed back down her legs, his blunt nails lightly scratching her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his fingers made it back up through the legs of her underwear again, Harry’s eyes flickered up to catch her own gaze in a silent question as Y/N rapidly nodded her head.

“Take ‘em off, please gorgeous, want them off,” Y/N gulped, lifting her hips to aid the process as he stretched the fabric taught over his hands and wrinkled them down and over her legs. Instead of letting them fall to the terrace floor, like she expected, she watched Harry through her hazy, hooded eyes, sit back on his knees, scrunch her panties in his fist and bring the bundled fabric up to his face where he breathed them in deeply, moaning and letting his eyes close. Y/N’s legs snapped closed at the sight, thighs pressing together to try and give herself some form of release from the pressure that was building in her abdomen, teeth sinking into her lip to withhold the moan that so desperately wanted to make itself known.

“Fuck, Y/N/N, baby, y’smell so good, I need t’taste you, just a little one, please,” Harry all but begged, prying her legs back open.

“Go ahead, s’yours, take what you want, Harry,” Y/N let her hips tick forward towards his face to get the message across. Harry’s head dipped down as he lay between her spread legs, kissing her hipbones and the flesh of her inner thighs as she watched his every action. Nose skimming her lower stomach, he trailed it further, through the thatch of hair that decorated the apex of her thighs, breathing her in. She felt his shoulders quake as a shiver of pleasure ran through him as he flattened his tongue and painted it along the length of her soaking heat. “Shit,” she gasped, pressing herself up to balance on one of her elbows as one hand flew to Harry’s hair, scrunching the locks between her fingers.

“Now I know why I’ve been calling you sweetness,” Harry murmured between flicks of his tongue, “Y/N/N, you taste…” he trailed off, his tongue delving into where she wept for him before tantalisingly teasing the tip of his tongue up to roll against her clit, evoking the most sinful noises from her.

Y/N’s hips wriggled under his constant assault and her breath was coming out in pants as she succumbed to the intense pleasure. “H, more, baby, need it,” she whined through her struggling breaths, her grip on his curls tugging him as close as he could be as his lips suctioned round her clit, nose resting on her mound. Harry placed his left arm across her lower stomach, effectively pinning her against the day bed.

“Still, stay still for me, baby and I’ll give you what you want,” Harry said breaking away from her centre briefly and leaning up to kiss her deeply. “D’you taste it? Can you taste how sweet you are for me?” he questioned as Y/N nodded her head limply before he made his way back down. “Y’gonna come for me an’ let me taste you properly, baby?” He didn’t wait for her response and if anything, Y/N was too fucked out to harbour one. He lingered over her pussy, opening his mouth, and letting the spit he had collected land on her heat before he flattened his tongue against the mess he made and shook his head in place to get in deeper. Harry’s right hand was wandering again, tracing patterns on her leg as he ghosted his fingertips up to join his tongue, his middle finger sinking into her with no resistance as her body tried to fight against his forearm that was pinning her in place as she felt the digit slide out and back into her at agonising pace. Harry was beginning to rut his own hips into the pillowy surface of the day bed, desperately needing to feel some friction against his solid cock. The mixture of Y/N’s taste, the glazed-over look in her eyes and the little whimpers and moans that would escape her was causing Harry to balance dangerously on the edge of finishing in his underwear. “Can you take another?” he grunted against her.

“Uh-huh” she mewled. Honestly not really hearing what he was asking but would have said yes to anything in that moment she was so wound up. The next time Harry’s middle finger slid out, his ring finger joined it as they drove back in, reaching and curling to find that special spot of hers as his lips began suctioning around her little pearl of nerves again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry, oh my god,” she moaned loudly, both hands flopping down to her sides, fingers digging into the mattress of the day bed.

“Found it,” she could feel him grinning against her as his fingers focused on repeatedly tapping away at her g-spot to send her teetering towards her end.

After a few minutes of that, Y/N was hanging precariously on the edge. “M’gonna… m-gonn-” she cut off as Harry removed his fingers from her weeping hole, bringing them up to rub tight little circles against her clit, his tongue delving inside, feeling her walls flutter and pulse around the wet muscle as she found her release. She ripped the arm that was pinning her down off her, latching her fingers into his as her body curled in on itself as she shook her way through her orgasm, Harry moaning in delight at her taste, pushing his hips down to keep himself from exploding, his own fingers gripping hers just as tightly as his preoccupied hand began to let up on her clit. She tugged his hand so he became level with her face again, breathing deeply as she watched him take his fingers that had been inside her and suck them into his mouth to savour every taste he could get. “Fucking hell, H,” she said lowly as a low grumble of a laugh left his chest as he pulled their lips back together in a messy kiss, the wetness on his chin transferring to her own as he sucked on her bottom lip. “You’re turn, wanna taste you now,” Y/N expressed as they broke away from their kiss.

“As much as I would love that, I can’t, I want to be inside you so bad and I won’t last,” Harry disclosed and when Y/N pouted at his response he couldn’t help the lazy, soft smile that graced his features. “Let’s save that for later, darling,” he nipped her pouted lip.

“Fuck me, then. Want you inside, I want to feel you, Harry,” she nuzzled her face into his neck, hands running up and down, squeezing his biceps before looping over his shoulders and dragging her nails over the skin of his back lightly.

“I want it too, baby, so bad. I don’t have any condoms though, didn’t exactly think I’d be shagging anyone this trip, let alone you,” Harry chuckled, slightly in disbelief that this was all happening, no matter how long he had craved it.

“I’m still on my birth control, gorgeous. Please, I want y’so bad, m’aching, I trust you,” she said sincerely, kissing his neck, sucking on the skin leaving her own mark on him as her hands gripped the waistband of his briefs, shucking them down his thighs quickly. Harry gasped as the cool air reached his cock that was now free of its confinements, standing to attention and the precome seeping out painting his slit shiny. Y/N looked down, widening her eyes at his impressive length, her lips reattaching to his throat, biting and licking with more fervour she was so desperate to feel him slip inside of her.

“I trust you too, more than anyone,” Harry said gripping her chin to look into her eyes, “how d’you wanna…” he tailed off.

“Oh, uh, let me just,” Y/N untangled herself from their cluster of limbs rolling herself over til she was presented to him on all fours, her hips wiggling teasingly as she looked over her shoulder at him, seeing him gazing at the fullness of her hips and bum, lightly palming himself as her teeth sunk into her lip at the sight. Harry shuffled himself up behind her taking a grip of himself at his base, ticking his hips forward slightly so he could paint his tip through her folds, letting the wetness that was pooled there coat him.

“You’re sure, Y/N?” he clarified.

“Never been s’sure, I want it, gorgeous, I want you,” Y/N pushed back against him, feeling his tip applying pressure at her entrance.

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Harry began guiding himself into her tight channel, groaning at the feeling as one of Y/N’s hands shot back to spread herself open for him to bury into. He groaned at the vision of her hands dimpling the skin of her behind as she moaned at the pleasure-pain of him entering her.

“Stretching me so good, Harry, feels so good,” their eyes met as she looked back over her shoulder. Once he bottomed out, he paused, letting her get used to him filling her, and taking a few steadying breaths of his own to calm himself. He grasped her hand that she had been using to spread open for him, holding it tight against her lower back, their fingers knotted together. “Fuck, you’re so big. Y’can move,” she whined, ready to rock her hips back against him if he wasn’t planning on moving. Harry reared his hips back, and was sliding back in within an instant, creating a slow but deep pace as both their breaths caught at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N/N, you’re so warm an’ wet,” Harry groaned, Y/N clenched at his commentary, squeezing around his cock as he plunged back in, “fuckin’ tight as well, so tight, but made to take me, weren’t you?” Harry panted, their fingers still tangled together as his other hand gripped onto the plush at the side of her hip, squeezing, thinking to himself he would quite like to take a bite of the fullness of her hips, given the opportunity.

“H, you’re so big, made for you, made to take your dick,” she whined, the hand that was holding her up collapsing under the rocking motion, so her cheek was pressed against the bed, bum still presented to him in the air. They were both already covered in a sheen of sweat from their activities and the warm evening air of Positano that lingered heavily around them. They were a mess of shivers, gasps, and moans as they fell into a rhythm with each other’s body’s. “Harder, can y’go harder, H? M’not going to break,” she asked as she began to push back against his thrusts.

“Whatever you want, baby, but I’ll decide if you’re going to break or not,” his grip on her hip and hand tightened as he began to thrust into her with more vigour, loud smacking as their skin collided echoed around the open terrace, Harry was sure they were going to bruise, but he wasn’t opposed to seeing the bruised back of her thighs peeking out from one of her little sundresses she had packed, the idea made him slam his hips into her harder.

Y/N pulled her arm, the one buckled under the pressure as Harry rocked into her, out from under her holding it behind her back to clutch onto Harry’s arm that held onto the other, desperate to feel his skin. Harry realising what she wanted, released his grip on her hip, holding both her hands in his behind her back.

“Jus’ needed to feel you, wanna feel you so bad, H,” she whimpered, fingers splaying over his forearms.

“Yeah?” he panted, his thrusts sending shockwaves through the pair of them.

“Mhm, so bad, skins so warm,” she babbled and if she wanted to feel his skin, who was he to refuse. He pulled her up to her knees, so her back was firmly against his chest, basically seated on his lap and as they fell into sync in their new position, she could feel him so much deeper than before. “Shit, shit, shit, Harry, you’re so deep,” her moans rising in volume. Harry released the grip on her hands and his own began to trail a path round to her front cupping a breast in each hand, rolling and pinching her nipples between his fingers as he kissed and licked over her neck, that the new position gave him access to, but he wanted her lips. Releasing one of her boobs from his grip he took his free hand and grasped her chin turning it to the side so he could kiss her deeply, her eyes had fallen shut at the deeper penetration she was feeling.

Breaking away from the kiss, he whispered against her lips, “open your eyes for me, pretty, and keep them open, need to see you,” her eyes fluttered open, seemingly with a little bit of a struggle as Harry bounced her on his lap, and bore into his own green ones. The hand he had gripped her chin with was off on an exploration again, dipping down her front, applying a little pressure to her lower abdomen, “feel me right here, baby?” Y/N could only nod in response before her lips were searching for his again.

The hand that had been busy tweaking at her nipple came up to rest on the base of her throat, thumb placed on one side and the remainder of his fingers wrapping delicately round the other side as he turned her head to look out over the balcony of the terrace, they had made their bedroom for the evening. She could see the twinkling of the water from their upright position, the evening light dwindling and the glow from the moon beginning to paint everything with a silvery hue. “Look how pretty it is,” Harry murmured into the shell of her ear, his hot breath fanning over her. “We’re so lucky to have such a pretty view aren’t we, Y/N/N?” he sounded almost condescending as he pulled her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled. Y/N’s own hands had begun exploring, one reaching over behind her shoulder to find its grip in the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, fingers twirling the strands he had let dry in their natural curls. The other hand came to rest atop Harry’s that he had around her throat and urged him to apply pressure by flexing her fingers against his. Harry’s eyes were searching the side of her face to make sure this is what she was wanting from him and with a subtle nod of her head her hand fell away to grip his thigh as his grip around her throat tightened, restricting her airflow, and sending a pleasurable buzz to her brain.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so filthy,” Harry gasped as their hips moved in synchronicity, they were both teetering on the edge of bliss. “Tomorrow, we’ll go splash around in the water,” Harry kept her head tilted towards the view, “won’t that be fun, look how pretty the sea is,” his fingers flexed again, tightening against her throat once more. “Not as pretty as you, you’re so fucking beautiful, nothing could compare,” Harry whimpered out, the vice like grip around his cock was becoming overwhelming, he took his other hand and let it find it’s home on her clit as he began rubbing tight little circles there. Y/N’s cries were increasing in frequency as she bucked against the stimulation. “Louder, baby, let everyone hear how pretty you sound,” he panted

“Harry, m’gonna come,” she cried out when Harry gave her a second to gulp lungfuls of air into her system.

“Me too, me too,” Harry babbled, “fuck, where d’you want me?” he asked quickly, if she wanted him to pull out it would have to be now as the elastic of his orgasm was stretched to its limit, just waiting for it to snap.

“M’on my pill, inside, want it inside so bad, wanna feel all o’you,” Y/N was grinding her hips down to meet his thrusts as they increased in pace as they chased their high. That was all Harry needed to hear, and he was sent over the edge, ropes of sticky release pouring into her, Harry’s fingers tightened around her neck as his orgasm shattered through his body, hips slamming into hers, triggering Y/N’s orgasm as they came together. Her walls quivered and pulsed as she collapsed forward into the bed, Harry following, quickly rotating her onto her side so he wouldn’t crush her, still not pulling out.

“Shit,” they both breathed in unison, as they tried catching their breath, quickly the pair falling into giggles.

“Jinx,” Y/N whispered as Harry hummed a laugh, before placing three kisses on the back of her neck. They rested in silence for a few minutes, catching their breath and processing what had just happened, before Y/N opened her mouth again. “Think I need t’go clean up, things are feeling a little…sticky and not in a fun way,” Y/N said looking over her shoulder as Harry eyed her carefully before he leant forward and caught her lips in a kiss again.

“Suppose so,” Harry sighed as he started to pull out, both hissing at the sensation. As Y/N stood and went to make her way across the terrace, he stopped her, “come stay with me tonight? Meet me in bed?” he asked softly, Y/N would say he even seemed shy or nervous to ask, as a flush painted his cheeks either from their activities or the embarrassment, he felt asking her to sleep with him in bed.

“Obviously, do you really think I’m letting you stay in the big posh bedroom without me? Dream on Harry,” she giggled, her tone light and airy, speaking to him as she always did as if their romp on the day bed never happened. She made her way back through the open doors, the gossamer curtains parting in billowy clouds around her as Harry flopped onto his back, running his hand through his hair, trying to piece together what the hell he and his best friend of nearly 15 years had just done.

***

Bedtime was easy. By the time they had both got cleaned up and dressed, them both in a fresh set of underwear and Y/N wearing another years old stolen t-shirt, any hint of awkwardness had completely dissipated. Harry was already in bed, the sheet pooling at his waist as he sat against the headboard typing a list of all the things they wanted to do while they were in town in his notes app. Moments later, Y/N was slipping under the sheets with him, a sleepy sort of smile gracing her features. Once she had wriggled around a little finding her spot, Harry put his phone down on the bedside table and was shrugging himself down the bed until he was lying on his side staring at his best friend in the darkened room.

“Y’got some toothpaste,” he whispered, his thumb coming up to wipe away the white stain around her lip as she hummed softly in thanks. They stared at each other for a beat, tired eyes blinking heavily, muscles slightly achy from their endeavours on the day bed on the terrace. Just as they were about to fall over, they shuffled closer to each other until they were wrapped in each other’s warmth, legs tangled beneath the sheets, and they let their lips pucker together in a soft kiss, Harry taking her bottom lip between his own and suckling just a little bit. They broke away with a contented hum and let their eyes slip shut.

“Minty fresh,” Harry whispered causing Y/N to let out a soft, twinkly giggle into the night mixing with the sound of the sea crashing into the rocks on the beach below.

***

Harry awoke with a groan as the sun shone through the windows causing him to screw his eyes shut to protect them from the bright rays. He starfished his limbs across the bed, flexing his fingers and his toes to gain some feeling back in his sleep-drunk body. When his hands could reach either side of the bed, he realised he was alone in the nest of sheets and feathered pillows and sat up abruptly letting his eyes flit around the room and peer out the windows of the double doors for any sign of Y/N. With no immediate signs of her, he sat and took stock of how he was feeling after last night. Thrilled, to say the least, at first anyway. Harry had realised a while ago he cared for her much more than the average best friend does, and his want and need for her had only grown after being separated for so long, and now, having spent however many days constantly in her company, his feelings for her were undeniable now. He loved her. He was in love with her, and he could only hope she felt the same. Surely all their little kisses and especially last night meant something. Christ, what if it didn’t? What if it was just some fun while high or drunk? No, they weren’t drunk last night, they had a glass of wine each, both perfectly with their wits about them so that wasn’t an excuse. God, he hoped things weren’t going to be awkward. Where was she anyway? Shit, what if she’s done a runner? Harry thought to himself, his mind running at a mile a minute, barely registering the scent of brewing coffee floating through the air.

“Oh, you fucker, ouch!” being shouted from outside the bedroom was the only thing that brought Harry back down to reality and the sound of gushing, running water seconds later as he found himself pulling off the sheets and stumbling blindly out of the bedroom to the kitchen where he heard a constant, “ow, ow, ow, ow,” being sing-songed.

“Y/N/N, you alrigh’?” Harry rasped out; his voice hoarse from being asleep.

“Was trying to make coffee in that stupid feckin’ pot I found in the cupboard and burnt my finger on it,” she whined, nodding towards the stove while running her finger under tepid water, a trick from her high school art teacher when she frequently burnt herself with the hot wax pot and the glue guns. Harry looked over to the stove top to see the stainless steel Moka pot steaming away on the hot plate, the smell of hot coffee much more intense and inviting in the kitchen.

“Let me see,” Harry said.

“It’s right there on the stove,” Y/N looked at him as if he had grown a second head, had she not just pointed out the pot to him?

“Your finger, thicko,” Harry rolled his eyes in faux annoyance as he reached towards her hand as she pulled it out of the stream of water holding it between their faces. Harry’s fingers clutched and twisted her hand delicately to see every angle. “Don’t think it’ll blister, but I’ve got some antiseptic cream in a first aid kit in m’bag,” he still held onto her hand, even though Dr. Styles was finished his examination.

“Y’brought a first aid kit? Who are you?” Y/N smiled at Harry’s preparedness.

“Y/N, sweets, you’re a bit of a liability, of course I brought a first aid kit.” Y/N paused her eyes path of taking in Harry’s shirtless form as her gaze shot back to his, mouth agape, seemingly appalled.

“…okay, that’s fair,” she eventually agreed, that yeah, she probably was a liability. Harry’s eyes flickered down to where he still held her injured finger between his own.

Without thinking, he brought the finger up to his lips and placed a kiss the pad of her fingertip, “there, all healed.”

“Harry,” she whispered, feeling his lips pucker against her digit.

“Hmm,” he asked, post-verbally with a contented hum.

“Uh… um… d’you think you could reach the espresso cups from that cupboard,” she pointed towards an overhead cupboard and when Harry’s back was turned, she felt all the blood heating her face as she tried to calm her racing heart down. Her own mind had been whirring when she woke that morning so had to get out of bed to occupy herself, in her mad half hour she had managed to gather their discarded clothes from the terrace as well as clean up their mess from dinner both in the kitchen and where their finished meal had been abandoned at the table on the terrace. She had been flitting in and out the bedroom repeatedly, taking trips to tidy the balcony but each time she paused to look at Harry who was lying on his stomach in the bed, his arm reaching across to where she had been laying, his fingers scrunching the sheets that had been swathed around her body. She admired is sleep-softened features where his cheek was smushed against his pillow, puffs of air escaping his raspberry tinted lips. It would have been easy to crawl back in beside him and cuddle up to him but what if he didn’t want that from her? What if last night was just a bit of fun? Before she could dwell on it too much, she found herself in the kitchen scrubbing plates and starting on their breakfast and subsequently burning herself on the coffee pot.

Harry poured their espresso and turned back round to hand Y/N’s off to her to see her pacing round the kitchen trying to distract herself but moving manically.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop, what’s wrong?” Harry questioned; his voice tainted with concern as he followed her round.

“Nothing, m’fine just trying to sort breakfast,” she was slicing bread and chopping fruit a little too fiercely to be considered ‘fine’, Harry wasn’t buying it.

“Look at me, Y/N/N,” he said softly, and after a beat she spun round to face him, and Harry was confronted with her gnawing into her lip and a dampness glittering at her waterlines as tears threatened to spill. “Oh, sweetness,” Harry sighed sadly, “c’mon let’s go sit outside, we should, uh, we should have a chat, I think,” Harry gave her a smile, trying to reassure her, but he couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling that her tears were his fault, they should’ve spoken before falling asleep, they should have spoken after Harry kissed her in Pisa, he just didn’t want to ruin the trip so early on if she wasn’t interested. He guided them out to the garden, still clutching both their coffees, he didn’t think sitting on the bedroom terrace was a good idea considering the memories of what happened there last night coloured the air out there. He handed her the coffee when they contented themselves on either end of the painted wooden bench. She took a sip of the searing coffee and let her teary eyes slip closed and tilted her head back to let the morning sun warm her face breathing out a heavy sigh. Silence fell between them, only the sound of the morning bird song and the light breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees disrupted them as they drank their coffee. Almost perfectly in sync, they drained the miniature ceramic mugs and placed them on the ground. Harry kept an eye on her out of the corner of his eye as she played with her fingers mindlessly, not sure who was supposed to speak first.

“Why’re you s’far away?” he asked turning to face her, a light airy tone to his voice. He stretched the arm closest to her across the back of the bench, beckoning her under it. She looked at him, shyly at first, before that radiant smile he knew so well burst across her face as she shuffled along the bench, cuddling into his side, legs coming up to rest on the bench as his arm wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close.

“I’m sorry,” they spoke in unison.

“Jinx,” Y/N said quietly as they both let out an amused exhalation through their noses remembering Y/N saying the same thing last night. She took Harry’s hand that wasn’t around her shoulder, in hers, toying with his fingers in her grip.

“What’ve you got to be sorry about?” he asked bemused. “I’m sorry, I uh, came onto you I guess, that wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position. I- I don’t want things to be, to be awkward or uncomfortable with us, Y/N, but I understand if- f’you think d-different of me,” Harry was stumbling over his words, honestly not sure what he was trying to say, he just needed her to know he never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable or be the reason for her sadness.

“Wait-what?” Y/N shot up from his side, turning her body to face him properly, he looked so upset. “Harry, no, I wanted you too, what we did last night, I wanted you to do, I asked you to, you didn’t like corner me or anything so, get that idea in the bin immediately,” she took both his hands in hers, thumbs rubbing across his knuckles in a soothing pattern.

“You looked so sad this morning, Y/N/N, I thought you regretted it or were upset with me if I like coerced you into anything,” Harry’s voice was thick as he tried to reel his emotions in.

“Christ, no, gorgeous, I was sad because I started overthinking everything, you know what I’m like. I just thought you would’ve wanted to ignore it like we did with the kisses, and I don’t think I could’ve done that, Harry, I just couldn’t,” she slumped against his chest as they both sighed in relief that neither of the pair seemed to regret their actions.

“I didn’t want to ignore the kisses, I just didn’t want to ruin the trip so early on by telling you I liked you,” he was playing with the ends of her hair as she remained close to his chest.

“I sure hope you like me; you’ve known me since we were 11,” she snorted against his chest.

“No, Y/N,” he sat her up so they were looking at each other as she furrowed her eyebrows, “like you, like you,” Harry said, surprised at his own conviction, he always thought when this moment came it would be a lot more of stammering, nervous, voice that sort of shouted his confession at her. “Fuck, I’d use the love word, but I’d rather do that when we’re less snotty nosed and teary,” he chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear before thumbing away a stray tear that trickled down her face.

“Thank Christ,” Y/N heaved out before throwing her arms around Harry’s neck and laying her lips on his, catching him off-guard, a muffled hmph escaping as their lips worked against each other’s. He tasted of the bitter coffee, but she didn’t mind, his lips were soft and attentive as he grasped her cheeks in the palms of his hands. His tongue splitting her lips as he licked into her mouth wanting to feel all of her.

“Wai-wait… what?” Harry gasped for breath as they broke apart, Y/N’s hands carding through Harry’s fluffy curls he had been letting dry naturally.

“I don’t care if we’re snotty, fuck Harry, I bloody love you, love you, love you,” she giggled wiping the tears from her face.

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling bright.

“Well, I didn’t shag my best mate of 15 years for a laugh, gorgeous,” she joked nuzzling into his neck breathing in his warmth.

“Look at me, Sweetness,” there was that nickname, the one that had stuck all these years as Y/N tilted her head up, “I love you,” she could feel his smile as he whispered the words against her lips.

***

They spent about two weeks in Positano, days filled on the beaches, strolls in the afternoons, cooking in the evening and wrapped up together in the sheets through the night. Well apart from that one night they went to one of the quieter beaches in the area and took a middle of the night dip sans any clothing. Quick pecks in the morning, lazy kisses over lunch and fingers intertwined on their walks. They were leaving Positano in a different place as when they arrived.

Y/N was in the passenger seat, digging through her bag in the footwell making sure they had packed up all their important bits again as Harry locked the front door of the villa, she peered up through the front windscreen to see him walking back over with that bloody blue hat sat atop his grown-out curls, yellow sunglasses tinting his vision, shooting her a sly grin when he caught her staring. He got himself comfortable in the driver’s seat, belt fastened and turned the ignition on, immediately handing Y/N the cable to plug her phone in to play their shared playlist, turning to look at her. “Where to next, my love?” he asked reaching over to caress the side of her face.

“Mmm,” she hummed, leaning into his touch, “let’s just keep driving for a bit and see where we end up.”

“Sounds good to me,” he leaned over the centre console and took her bottom lip between his own and kissed her deeply before breaking away and putting the car in reverse to drive them away from Positano and onto their next stop.

“Wait! Shit, did you lock the balcony doors?” Y/N cried out as Harry slammed the breaks, getting a fright from her exclamation. His eyes narrowed, searching her face as if she was going to tell him the answer to that.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groaned, pulling up on the hand break before killing the engine and getting back out the car as Y/N giggled away in her seat. Just before he slammed the driver’s door shut to go check he leant back down and was calling into her, “by the way, you’ve got chocolate and jam down your chin this time,” and he tossed a napkin at her that he had tucked away in his pocket for the exact purpose of having to clean up his messy girl.

***

MASTERLIST

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