#Harry styles romance

[cinemastyles-blog]

Private Affair [h.s] | 1.

Warnings: there really isn’t for this chapter, other than flirting while married, possible sexual innuendos

Word count: 5.4k

You roll over and extend your arm out, only to find that you're the only one in bed.

You let out a sigh, remembering that you and your husband, Alex, are probably still dealing with the aftermath of last nights argument.

Alex came home, slightly drunk and let's just say that drunk minds speak sober thoughts, and he was screaming his.

You kick the blankets off and swing your legs over the edge as you sit up.

You grab your sweater and put it on as you make your way to the kitchen, "Morning." You mumble lowly to Alex, who is leaning against the counter with a an open magazine.

It's silent as you get your coffee made up. It's almost that awkward silence where you don't know what to do or say to break it.

"I'm sorry." He says with a sigh and you look over at him, "Why are you sorry?"

He sets his cup down and turns towards you, "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that last night. I came home after having a few beers in the parking lot with the guys after work and the boss just gave us all a pay cut and I just had a moment and I'm sorry."

You purse your lips together and nod, "I appreciate your apology. I just asked you for one thing and you exploded on me, I didn't know what to say."

He reaches out and gently drags his hand up your back, "I understand. It's okay, but do you?"

You nod, "I do, just please.. don't ever drink and drive or yell at me like that again." You glance over at him.

He nods, "I promise." He looks down at his watch, "Oh shit. I gotta go." He steps towards you and presses his lips to your temple.

"It's nine already?" You look at the stove clock and raise your eyebrows.

"Hey." He leans in and smiles, "They'll be stupid not to hire you." You smile and nod, pursing your lips for him to kiss you.

"I'm banking on having a celebration dinner tonight.." he walks over to grab his bag, "I love you."

You smile, "I love you, have a good day, sweetie." He smiles and nods, "You too."

You smile and wave as he leaves your shared apartment, leaving you alone for your worries to eat you alive.

You applied for a position at Alluring Mag, which is one of your all time favorite magazine companies.

They're all about pleasure and what is considered 'in season' for bedroom wear and so much other stuff, and you and every other woman that that you know, eat it up every month it comes out.

You walk over and plop down on the couch, sighing as you stare at your phone's dark screen as it lays beside you.

"No, I'm not going to stress." You tell yourself and turn the tv on. You click through the options and glance back over at your phone.

You let out a sigh and get up, starting to do things to keep yourself from going crazy.

You start to clean. Wiping down the counter tops, sweeping the floors, laundry. You try to vacuum, but you were afraid you wouldn't hear your phone ring, even though it was in your hand.

You look at the clock and frown as it's only eleven thirty.

Just before you really start to drive yourself insane, you decide to go for a shower and  as you walk in to turn the shower on,

You hear your ringtone start to play.

You sprint out of the bathroom and go to your phone, picking it up to see that it's a number that isn't saved.

You take a deep breath before answering with a calm, hopeful, "Hello?"

"Is y/n y/l/n there?"

"This is she." You nod to yourself, "How can I help?"

"Well y/n. My name is Charlene and I am calling from Alluring Mag in regards to getting you in for an interview."

Your mouth opens and you close your eyes, trying your best to stay cool, "Yes, yes of course. What days are available?"

She hums and you can hear pages being flipped around in the back, "One moment, please."

"Of course." You put the phone on speaker and mute yourself, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!" You cheer to yourself before taking a calming breathe, "Okay."

You unmute yourself just as she starts talking, "So, y/n, you are coming in for a different position. My boss, aka, the company's CEO, went through and picked out some applicants who he thought would be a good fit for a specific position." She pauses, "His assistant."

Your lips part and you honestly don't know what to say, "Um. Yes. That's perfectly fine."

"Great. So he wants to meet with all three of you as soon as possible, so if you can meet to-"

"Tomorrow is great." You cut her off, "Oh, I'm so sorry." You lay a hand on your forehead as the embarrassment settles in.

She chuckles, "It's okay, dear. Is two in the afternoon good for you?"

"Two is good for me, yes. Thank you so much." You bite your lip and smile.

"Not a problem, see you tomorrow." She hangs up and you stand there in shock, "Oh my god."

You quickly dial your husbands number, "Pick up. Pick up." You whisper as you listen to each ring.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Alex. Hey. I just got off the phone with Alluring Mag and they want me to come in tomorrow for an interview."

"I told you!" He says, "That's great, y/n!"

"To potentially be the CEO's assistant." You bite your lip, waiting for him to speak.

"The CEO? baby. That's.. that's freakin' amazing!" He sighs, "I'm so proud of you. I knew we were having that dinner tonight."

"You definitely called it, that's for sure." You pace back and fourth, unable to contain your excitement, "I'm so excited."

"You deserve this, baby. You will do amazing tomorrow and I will remind you of that until you get there." You can tell Alex is smiling on the other end of the phone.

"I might call up Sage, see what she's doing. I need to get an outfit, so maybe we'll go shopping." You put him on speaker and text her,

You: Are you busy? I got some news! Need to go shopping today!!

"Alright, honey. That's fine. I'll be home probably around four but take your time."

You hear talking in the back and it doesn't sound good, "I'll let you go. I love you, see you later."

"I love you." Alex says before hanging up.

You see if Sage texted you back,

Sage: I'll be ready in twenty.

── •✧• ──

You beep the car horn as you pull into the driveway, putting it in park while you wait.

Soon enough, you see Sage run down her porch steps and towards your car. She gets in and looks at you as the door shuts, "What's happening?"

"Alluring Mag called and I have an interview to potentially be the CEO's assistant." You bite your lip and raise your eyebrows.

Sage's mouth drops and her head tilts down, "Shut. Up." She covers her mouth, "No way!"

"I know!" You shrug, "I can't believe it either."

"Y/n, have you ever seen what the CEO looks like?" She tilts her head sideways, "He is such a fine human being." She smirks as she pulls her phone up from her lap.

"You know." You shake your head, "As obsessed as I am with that magazine, I don't think I know what their CEO looks like, I do know his name is Harry, though."

"Harry. Styles." She says as she turns her phone towards you.

You look at the screen and your lips part slightly, "Oh shit." You take her phone and zoom in on the picture, "You're right."

You start to feel a tingling sensation between your legs and you tilt your head, weirdly enough, you don't feel bad at the thought of another man making your pussy throb just by looking at them.

"He's fucking hot. You might be the one that gets close and personal with that." Sage points and shakes her head, "Fuck, I am so jealous of you."

"Maybe this is a bad idea." You admit to Sage, "I just got turned on just by looking at him, Jade." You admit this to her because there is no shame between you guys, no judgment.

She sighs, "It's normal to look and feel attracted. It'll only be bad if you act upon those thoughts."

You hand her phone back and nod, "You are right., I just have to remind myself that I'm not the girl that sleeps with their boss to get higher up in the company, you work for it yourself."

"You go girl." Your friend laughs, "No you're right, now let's go get you some business clothing. I'm thinking tight skirt, open blouse, and a blazer."

You start driving to the mall and shake your head, "You are a bad influence, encouraging this behavior."

But it didn't feel so bad at the time.

── •✧• ──

Later on that day, you arrive back home and haul your bags inside.

"Hey." You greet Alex who's sitting on the couch, "How was work?" You walk in and close the door, setting your bags down on the island.

He stands up and walks over, raising his eyebrows as he sees your bags, "It was good, what's all this?" He waves his finger back and fourth at the bags and you smile, "I may have went a little overboard, but something tells me I needed all of these outfits."

He tilts his head and nods, "I'm only agreeing because we've been on the ball today about going with our gut feeling, so.. okay."

He walks around and leans in, pulling the bags open to look inside.

As he's inspecting your purchases, you walk over and pour yourself a glass of wine, "If not I can return them."

He looks at you and nods, "Mm, where do you want to go for dinner, baby?" He leans against the counter and watches as you being the glass up to your lips.

You take a sip and tilt your head, smiling slightly, "Italian? We can go to Nonna's?"

He smiles and nods, "Anything for you. Now go get ready."

You grab your glass and walk to Alex, giving him a kiss before heading to your room to get around.

You walk out a little while later and do a little spin to show off your outfit, "How do I look?"

His eyes move up and down your body, "You look amazing." He walks over to you, "Shall we head to dinner?"

You nod, "Let's."

You and Alex head to dinner, talking about the possible jobs you might have to do for Harry and that feeling between your legs returns.

"I just hope that this job gets a major pay raise." You laugh slightly, but in all reality, you would work for Harry for absolutely free, and you know there isn't a doubt about it.

"I'm sure, the CEO? Babe. Come on, if there isn't, then that's some absolute bullshit." Alex goes on but you cut him off, continuing to talk about Harry is only making you feel worse.

"Oh there's a parking spot right there!" You point out quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, yeah. Hey thanks." He whips the car in, putting it in park and looking over at you as he takes his seatbelt off.

You unbuckle and look over at him as you slowly let the seatbelt retract back, "What?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing, you're just pretty, is all."

You can feel the blush rise on your cheeks and you smile, "Let's go, I'm starving." You open the door and get out, walking around to meet him behind the car.

Your hand takes his and your fingers interlock as you walk with him into Nonna's.

── •✧• ──

"Thank you for dinner, Alex. This truly was the best way I can celebrate getting a job in a company I've dreamed of working at."

He smiles and opens the car door for you, "You deserved it." He waits for you to get in the seat and buckle up before he leans in and kisses you, "I love you."

You smile, "I love you."

He shuts the car door and walks around to get in. You rest your head back and smile as he lays his hand on your thigh, "Home?"

"Home." You respond with a sigh, "I am ready to go to bed before my anxiety about tomorrow kicks in and keeps me up all night."

He laughs and squeezes your leg, "You know what you're doing babe. You probably have a good resume if they picked you to be an option for this."

"I think she said there's two other people besides me, so." You look over at him and he looks at you, "See, out  probably tons of other applicants you got picked."

You nod as you remember what the lady on the phone said, "Yeah, the lady on the phone said that he picked them out himself, so he must be very specific if there's only three because like you said, there is probably tons of other applicants."

"That's what I'm saying, babe. You got this. You deserve this."

You smile and lay your hand on his, looking out the window as you think about Harry. You're anxious to be around him because you're very awkward when you're nervous to meet someone.

Especially someone you find attractive in any way.

You finally make it home and you let out a yawn. You're kind of over exaggerating how tired you are, but you really just want to go to bed so you find out stuff about Harry. 

Your husband yawns, "Good lord, y/n. Stop that."

You laugh, "Sorry." You get out of the car and walk up to the door, "I think I'm going to go for a shower."

Alex nods and kicks the door open, "Alright, I'm probably going to change and watch some tv for a little."

You nod and walk to your room, take off those heels that are starting to make your feet hurt. You grab clothes and head to the bathroom.

You shut the door and turn the shower on, grabbing your phone and going to google as the water heats up.

You type in the search bar HARRY STYLES CEO ALLURING MAGAZINE and your breathe hitches as his picture pops up.

You click on images and the pictures of Harry that show up make your stomach fall out of your ass.

There is just something about Harry that you can't describe, but you don't even want to think about it, it doesn't feel right, but at the same time.

It feels so good.

You notice that the bathroom has filled with steam so you set you phone down and finally get in and complete your full shower routine.

You wrap a towel around your body and open the door right away because you were going to pass out from how hot it was in there.

You grab your phone and dirty clothes to take them to the bedroom, but you stop when you notice Alex asleep on the couch.

You shake your head and walk in to your bedroom, drying off and slipping on your pajamas before you walk out to Alex. You tap him on the shoulder and lean down, "Hey, come to bed."

He mumbles and shifts around and you repeat what you just did, "Hey, come to bed." His eyes flutter open and he looks up at you, "M'sorry."

You smile, "It's okay. Come on."

You walk with him to the bedroom and you manage to successfully get a kiss before he fell back asleep. You smile and shake your head, laying back as you reach over to turn the light off.

── •✧• ──

After having a good nights sleep, you wake up feeling great. As you lay there, thinking about the details of the day, Alex comes in to say goodbye for work.

"You will do amazing today." He says walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. Your body move towards his slightly as the mattress sinks down, "Thank you."

You smile up at him and rest a hand on his cheek as he leans in. He presses his lips against your and moves to kiss your cheek a few times, "You got this, y/n. I'm serious."

"I will call you after."

"Directly after! I want to know everything!" He stands up and points to you, "Good luck. I love you."

"I love you." You say with a smile, "Have a good day."

Alex leaves for work and you lean over to grab your phone, calling Sage.

"Hello?" She mumbles after a few rings, "It's early."

"I know, I'm sorry. I need help picking out an outfit." You sigh as you sit up, "I was fine until just now. I'm freaking out."

You hear Sage laugh as you put her on speaker and toss the bags on the bed, "Sage!" You groan, "Please. Help me."

She sighs, "Wear the skirt that has the open square print with black heels and that long sleeve black blouse thing."

You pull the clothing from the bag and sigh, "Thank you. You can go back to sleep now."

"Uh huh." The line beeps and you laugh slightly, laying out the clothes on the bed.

You go to your closet and sit down, looking at your pile of shoes already feeling defeated. You lean forward, pulling out the first option of heels.

You study them for a few seconds, humming to yourself as you inspect them, turning them slowly before setting them down to move on to the next.

You repeat that process with about five pairs before you come across your velvet heels with the ankle strap.

"Perfect." You grab the other one and get up, walking over to lay them down beside your outfit. You look at the time and seeing as it's only nine fourth five, you go make yourself some breakfast.

You stared at the bowl of cereal in front of you, not really wanting to eat as your anxiety slowly work on taking over your whole body.

You take a few bites before calling it quits. You reach over and lay your hand on your phone, sliding it over to you.

You stare at it for a few moments, debating on whether or not you should look up Harry more. You shake your head and get up to clean your cereal bowl.

── •✧• ──

You managed to keep yourself busy, get ready and give yourself one last look in the mirror by one. You didn't realize you were shaking until you reached for your keys on the stand.

You take a deep breathe and grab them before making your way out of the door.

Your phone buzzes as you get into your car and you smile because it's most likely your hourly supportive text from Alex.

You start the car, get the air going and grab your phone, smiling as you read the text from Alex,

Alex: You got this. I know you're probably nervous but don't be. You are going to rock this interview and be the CEO's assistant.

Your bottom lip slips between your teeth and you take a deep breathe. The thought of Harry drives you insane. You don't know what it is, but ever since yesterday you cannot stop thinking about this man.

A part of you hopes you don't get the job so you can stop all of this delusional day dreaming, but an even bigger part of you wants you to be the one to get the job and see what happens.

You send him back two hearts and start your drive to what could possibly be the best or worst day of your life.

You can feel your stomach drop as you pull into the empty spot out front. You don't want to move, but you force yourself to grab your purse and get out.

You pop some coins into the meter and lock your car before throwing your keys into your purse. You walk inside, wiping your palm on your skirt before pulling the glass door open.

You can't help but to look around, aweing at the building that you've dreamed of being in one day. You were so caught up in, pretty much having a fan girl moment, that you don't hear the receptionist calling for you.

"Miss? Hello."

You turn and blink, "Oh.." you laugh slightly and hover your fingers over your mouth, "I am so sorry."

She smiles and sits back down, "It's a very beautiful building, I know." She shuffles some papers around before looking back up at you, "Are you Y/N Y/L/N?"

You rest your hands on the counter and nod, "Yes I am."

"Do you have your I.D?" She pretends to hold a card between her fingers and you nod, "Yes." You open your purse and pull out your wallet, slipping out the plastic card from the holder, "Here you go."

She smiles and takes it, "Thank you, with being a big company you never know who wants to try anything."

You raise your eyebrows, "Oh no. I understand."

She types in your information and scans your I.D before handing it back to you, "Thank you." She leans in and looks at her computer, "You're here for the interview with Mr. Styles, right?"

Your body goes cold and you nod, forcing a smile that covers up your nervousness, "Yes, I am."

She nods, "Just giving you a warning, he can be a little.." she tilts her head, "Mm, hard to deal with sometimes, but you're pretty so just smile and agree with him."

You jerk your head back slightly at her comments, "Um, alright." You pull your purse straps up onto your shoulder and watch as she dials a number.

It rings on speaker a few times before a man picks up "Mr. Styles' office, Jake speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hello, Jake. It's Jamie from the front, I have y/n here for the two o'clock interview with Mr. Styles." Jamie looks up at you and smiles.

"He's still in with the other one, but go ahead and send her up. She can wait out with me."

Your stomach does a flip and you feel like you could throw up, "You're going to head to the tenth floor and it's the second to last door on your right."

You nod and swallow, "Thank you." You start to walk to the elevator, your heels clicking against the white flooring.

You press the button and the doors open. You step on, pressed the button labeled with a fancy looking '10'.

You were amazed, you never seen a mirror in an elevator before. You bite your lip, smirking as you quickly dig your phone out of your purse. You swipe over to the camera and snap a quick mirror selfie before the elevator dings.

You spin around fast and drop your phone back into your bag as you look up and giving the woman a small smile, "Hi." She smiles, "Good afternoon."

She gets off on the next floor but more people get on and then off and it feels like you have been on the elevator, stewing in your anxiety for what feels like an eternity.

You let out a slightly loud sigh, "Finally." You step off and walk down the hall. You stop when you make your way to the door Jamie said to go to and you take a slow, shaky deep breath and breathe it out before opening it.

"Y/n?" Who you assume, Jake says standing up.

"Yes, that's me."

"Great. So if you just want to have a seat, relax for a few minutes, he should be wrapping up with this person shortly." Jake smiles and motions to a mini fridge, "Water? Anything to drink?"

You shake your head as you walk over and sit down, "No thank you. I'm okay."

He nods and goes back to his desk. He picks up the phone and holds it as he dials, "Mr. Styles, your last interview is here whenever you're ready."

Your eyes flick up to Jake then over to the door you entered in. You don't know how you missed it, but it has Harry Styles in bold letters and even reading his name gives you a flutter.

Maybe it's because he's an important person in the company you much the working for? You try to talk yourself down, all while trying to stay alert for your cue to go in.

After about twenty minutes of waiting, Jake's phone rings. You sit up straight, clutching onto your purse as you anticipate him telling you to go.

"Yes sir, one second." He hangs up the phone and stands up, "I'll be right back." He walks back the hall and you can hear a door open.

It's silent for a few moments before you hear a voice enter the hall way. It sounds deep and angry, and the accent kind of threw you off.

You hear footsteps in the hall and your heart starts to race. Jake and another guy are walking out and Jake is whispering things to him.

You make eye contact with the guy being walked out and he points behind him, "Don't even waste your time with that fucking douche bag."

"Stop or I will call security." Jake says as he opens the door, "Y/N, you can go back."

"O-oh." You stand up slowly, "Okay, thank you." You look at the hall and slowly walk back.

"Did you get him out of here, Jake? I swear to god if this last one is just as fuckin' stupid as the others I-"

Harry's talking stops abruptly as his eyes land on you, "Shit. I'm so sorry."

You suddenly feel this burst of confidence take over your body and you tilt your head, "Having a little trouble finding an assistant?"

He chuckles slightly and looks down as he nods, "Yeah, I am, believe it or not." He looks up and motions for you to sit down, "Please, come in. Have a seat."

You walk in as Harry walks around his desk to close the door. You sit down and look up at him as he walks to sit back at his desk, "I'm sorry." He turns towards you and rests his hands on his desk.

You knew he was apologizing, but once you glanced down, you couldn't stop thinking about his hands, the rings, the painted nails, fuck.

"It's fine." You smile at him, "Really! That guy seemed like a real asshole anyway."

He smirks and nods as he leans back, "He didn't want to accept no as an answer, so I had to explain why and that took over an hour."

"Oh god. I'm so sorry." You nod, "I wouldn't want to have to do that for over an hour either."

He squints as he stares at you, "I like you."

His words scare the shit out of you, "what?" You laugh slightly embarrassed.

"I said." He leans forward and folds his arms on the desk, "I like you."

You can feel a pathetic blush rising on your cheeks and you can't help but smile, "Thank you." You look up at him and he smirks, "Tell me about yourself, darling."

"We'll, I graduated with a bachelor's degree in English and I studied communications, journalism and photography as well."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no." He leans back and waves his hand, "I already know all of that, I mean about you."

You smile and lean forward, tugging your skirt down as you switch your legs around, "Oh, um. Well.."

Suddenly you can't think of anything about you and you blank.

"Are you married?"

His question snaps you out of trying to think real quick, "Huh?" He points and you look down ay hour hand, lifting it slightly as you show off your ring, "Yes, I am."

You look back up at him and he presses his lips together, nodding as his eyes study your ring, "That's nice."

"Are you?" You ask without thinking.

You start to panic, thinking it might be a touching subject for him or just not a good topic so you shake your head, "Sorry, that was-"

"No, no. I asked first." He laughs and look at you, blindly slowly as he shakes his head slightly, "I am not married. Single, actually."

There's a twinge in your gut that tells you to get away from this topic.

"I just haven't found the right person yet, you know?"

You nod, "I totally get that, I got married a lot younger than I planned, I love Alex, but sometimes I can't help but to think.. you know maybe.." you trail off and look at him.

He has a slight smile rested on his lips and you sigh, "This isn't a therapy session. I apologize." You lay a hand on your forehead and rub your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

You curse yourself internally and wish you would magically poof home, under the covers to hide from everything happening right now.

"You're fine, love. I promise. If you weren't, you wouldn't be in my office this long." He smiles and gives you a quick wink.

You smile slightly and tilt your head, "Can I ask you something?" He nods, "Of course."

You smile slightly, "Please, don't take this the wrong way, I don't know if this is weird but where are you from?"

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no you're fine. I get that a lot but I'll break it down for you." He glances up at you as he smiles, "So I was born in Redditch, then when I was seven, my parents divorced and I grew up in Holmes Chapel with my mom. That was a really weird time for me."

You are kind of shocked that Harry just gave you part of his life story in a matter of minutes of meeting him.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." You shake your head, "My parents divorced, too, but I had to live with my dad. My mom moved three hours away with some guy she met on line."

He shakes his head, "That's not fair to you. I'm sorry, darling."

You feel weirdly comfortable with him, like you could tell him your deepest darkest secret and it will always be safe with him.

"It's okay. I managed. Look where I'm at now." You laugh slightly and motion around you.

Harry nods and smiles at you, "Mhm, Alluring Mag's newest assistant to me."

"What?" You cover your mouth, "Are you serious?" He nods and smiles, “So when do you want to start?"

"I'll start whenever you want me to." You tried to not sound too eager but you indeed, fail.

"Do you need to let another employer know or?"

You shake your head, "Nope. If tomorrow works for you, it works for me."

He nods, "See you tomorrow then." He stands up and holds his hand out and you take his hand with yours, "I get here about eight, so if you just wanted to get here at seven thirty to settle in, Jake can let you into my office."

You nod and smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Styles."

He squeezes you hand and leans in, "Please, when it's us, Harry is just fine." You smile, "Thank you so much, Harry."

"I'm excited to have you with me." He winks at you before letting go of your hand, "See you tomorrow."

You grab your bag and walk out of his office. You could feel his eyes burn into the back of you as you walks towards the door.

You glance back and his eyes quickly move up from your ass to your face and he smirks.

"Have a good day, Mr. Styles."

He smirks and shakes his head, "Have a good day, y/n."

And with that, you open the door and leave his office, ready to inform everybody that you are in fact newest assistant to the CEO of Alluring Mag.

── •✧• ──

Hello everyone, just a quick little authors note here.

I want you guys to tell me your thoughts about this! Every detail matters! I want to make this fanfiction the best that I can for you guys! If you have any ideas, you can message or comment anything and I will take it all into consideration!

Thank you for reading Secret Affairs.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Tag list: @larrystuff28

[yeahimwiththeband]

with the band chapter 19

husband and wife (part 2)

warning: you may briefly develop sympathy for a character you really dislike. A/N: my bitter little toast to the bride and groom. lydia learns what it means to be married to the man she's chosen. if you're just finding this now, i suggest starting at the beginning - or at the lastest, chapter 7. word count: 1.8k

From across the ocean, staring out at the water from California, Lydia could feel her cousin’s worry, and she thought to herself: you don’t know him like I do. 

It was her wedding day.

Lydia could hear their guests in their new apartment from the beach—all the heels and the slides on the tile floor, their conversation and clinking glasses bouncing off the mirrors and the marble. Their balcony doors were open, and the reception had almost spilled outside.

Lydia was still wearing her veil, a fine tulle dripping down her back all the way to her ankles, trailing in the water that washed up around her feet. She had her phone in her hand. She was trying to make a call.

She had been trying since 10 o’clock this morning, when the hairdresser had pressed the veil into place. 

Lydia stood on the beach barefoot; her shoes were upstairs, at the reception with the band and Ryan and all George’s friends—the ones who were in California, the school friends who wore worn-down Todds and wanted to feel a bit dangerous by hanging out with a real musician (or look it, on their feeds, in photos near a musician). Taking casual reels with Jess Harper casually lounging in the background. She had confirmed the guest list. Like a wife should. She looked down at her ring (huge and not very rock and roll, as Jess pointed out). George had even agreed when she said she didn’t want Dave Novoselic there, that creepy old rock star who always brought needles to every party. The one who brought the bad batch that sent Tara to the hospital. George promised Dave wouldn’t be there; George was on his best behaviour. Like a husband should be. Novoselic had been disinvited, at her request. That was the power Lydia wielded now. She wasn’t just some kid in over her head anymore, or some Penny Lane character hanging on by a thread: they were married. Everything was going to be better. It was a new life, after everything.

Everything had been perfect since Lydia decided to stay in California. She finally called her dad. She had even been home to visit, and had seen Izzy's mom and Mrs. Shepherd. But Lydia couldn’t bring herself to see Izzy.

Hovering at the storefront, Lydia had seen her cousin behind the register; she was so stricken by guilt at the sight that she turned back. After a few panicked messages, Harry cheered her up before he left for Italy: he said Izzy had moved out, had another new job, and was back in school—she only worked at the store on weekends. (Lydia tried to return the favour by not telling Jess where Harry was; she couldn’t keep track of whether they were off or on again or real or not real again. Jess's posts had gotten desperate.)

jessH missing this one today

↳ harrystyles hop on a plane soon babe

larry4ever222 you guys are so cute jk pls breakup

Lydia felt relieved that Izzy was doing better, that she had escaped, that bringing her on the tour had worked—for the most part—but Lydia's guilt stuck to her, like her wet veil against her ankles.

She watched the waves go out and felt the undertow along with it, pulling her white satin slip dress and the pit of her stomach. Her new life in California was so beautiful. Whenever she felt like she was being pulled under, she remembered that first summer on tour and the first time George noticed her. She was shooting content for Jess’s socials and he kept pulling faces at her through the camera. The next day, she found a new phone stand outside her door. Then a new computer and clothes and plane tickets.

Then a ring. 

The wedding had been perfect. Except Izzy wasn't there. And Izzy and Harry weren’t together. Lydia believed she had smashed that up too, causing accidents everywhere. She knew her cousin and she knew they couldn’t be together now, after Harry left her like that. But Lydia still wanted to fix it.

Maybe she could still fix it. She had a plan.

A car horn from the road behind their building jolted her out of her haze, and back into another memory. A little bar, in nowhere New Brunswick, at the beginning of Jess Harper's second, tiny tour. The summer after she had turned 18, the summer it all happened.

The audience consisting of the celtic band—including a bagpiper who had fallen asleep—going on after them, Tara’s parents, and a bachelorette party that was half unconscious. Lydia found an angle in the corner of the bar, pressed up against the window, where she could shoot the crowd to make it look like an actual crowd. She had to get more people in to see their shows, or the next venue would cancel and Ryan would walk. Lydia could stare at her shots of George pulling faces for hours, but they weren’t working. She leaned back, trying to make the seven heads in front of her look like 70.

She heard a car horn too close and glass sprayed across her skirt: she turned to see that a driver had tapped the side of the building, sliding too far into his parking spot. The tap cracked the window. Lydia leapt up and burst into tears, even though she wasn’t hurt. She ran to the back of the bar, past the kitchen, and outside, to the laneway behind the bar, and George followed her. He thought she was injured. He thought she should go to the hospital. She couldn’t stop crying.

“Did the  glass cut you?” George asked, circling around her. He pulled up her sweater a bit where glass still clung to it, but Lydia swatted his hand away.

“I’m okay,” Lydia said. “I just need a minute. You can go back inside.” 

“Must have scared you,” George said. He reached out and Lydia turned away. She was breathing deeply, in and out. “It’s not really like you, Lyds, to keep anything hidden.” 

“Not this,” Lydia said.

“Not what?”

Lydia shook her head.

"You always tell the truth," George said.

“I’ve done some… I’ve done some fucking awful things.” 

“So have I,” George said, smiling, countering her grave tone with levity. It didn't work: Lydia’s eyes sank down to the floor. 

“I’m not like you guys,” Lydia replied. “I’m here because I ran away.”

“Lydia, me too. We’re more alike than—"

“No, no we’re not. I’m alone. I’m alone with what I’ve done.”

“What you’ve done?” George asked.

“And you should know. You know what? You should know about it. I should wear like, a button or a sash or something,” Lydia said, gesturing across her chest, “with the crime written on it, so everyone who comes in contact with me knows, so I’m not lying every minute of every day that I spend with anybody. I caused a.… There was a car accident, and I was driving. I was trying—I thought I was a good driver. I was paying attention. But we still crashed.”

“Is that how—“

“Yes, that’s how I lost my mom. Because I felt like driving that day.”

“Lydia, you have to know that it’s not—“

“Don’t say it. I’ve heard it before. It doesn’t—it’s not true, so it doesn’t sink in.”

George’s shoulders dropped. He wanted to reach out, but she kept swatting him away.

“And then I left my dad at home.”

“Sometimes, you have to take care of yourself,” George offered. 

Lydia shook her head. 

“I’m a messy person,” she said, her voice low. “I’m a toxic person.”

“I’m messy too,” George said. 

Lydia backed further away from him. Her back hit the door. George stepped toward her. Lydia wouldn’t meet his eyes. She looked at her feet, at the pavement. 

“There’s no way anybody could ever want me,” Lydia stammered. “There’s no way you could ever want me.”

“I want you,” George said. “I want you.”

And that was it.

Lydia pulled her veil up out of the water and glanced at her buzzing phone. Harry had sent a dozen texts since she posted announcing that she and George were married. He was in Italy; it was the middle of the night there. But Lydia couldn’t bring herself to message him back.

What would she say?

What could she say to Izzy?

Lydia had done everything to make Izzy happy, even saying nothing and swearing everyone to secrecy when George became infatuated with her—briefly—on tour. Lydia just wanted to keep her on the tour and away from that store she hated so much, and she thought she could stand it—the sight of them together—if Izzy really loved him.

Of course, at the time, Lydia didn’t know she would be here just a few months later, on the beach, in her wedding dress, with George in a tux upstairs. But no one could have stopped her.

Jess had told Lydia not to go through with it just a few days ago at the recording studio. From behind the microphone, Jess noticed an bright prism of light against the walls of the control room, and the distraction almost made her miss the hook. She traced the light back to a rock on Lydia's ring finger, dropped her headphones, and raced out of the live room in the middle of her verse, pulling Lydia out into the hallway. 

“Lydia,” Jess said, gripping her wrist and smiling in spite of herself. "Tell me you didn't."

“We’re crazy, I know.” 

"This is serious."

Lydia giggled. 

“George is a propeller, a sharp propeller, going at full speed. Don’t walk into the propeller, Lydia."

Lydia smiled. “But the propeller speaks to me in soothing tones.”

Jess dropped her wrist and laughed. 

Lydia kept going: “The propeller tells me I’m a good person and we can run away together.” 

“Oh, Lydia.” 

Lydia shrugged. Jess rolled her eyes and they laughed.

From the beach, Lydia could hear that laugh.

She locked her phone screen and picked up the hem of her dress. Izzy would be fine, Lydia thought to herself, because she had a plan to get her back together with Harry. She conceived the plan after George proposed and put it in motion during her visit to her dad, when she convinced Mrs. Shepherd to leave Izzy that house in Italy, and then convinced Harry that region was the perfect place for him to dry out. With the wedding out of the way, the next phase of her plan could go ahead. 

“Where did you go?” George said when she re-entered their apartment, leaping up from his seat.

Jess smiled warily and everyone at the table clinked their glasses. George grabbed Lydia around the waist and she sunk into him, wanting to drown in him. They kissed and everyone clapped. Lydia beamed. She was exactly where she was supposed to be. Everything was beautiful, and George had paid for every detail: the ceiling was so heavy with flowers they kept falling, full blooms landing like grenades on the table to giggles from all the guests.

She sat down next to George and Jess raised her glass to her, looking skeptical (as always). Lydia gulped down her champagne and George squeezed his hand around her waist, burying his face in her hair to bite her neck. Lydia laughed: was this the happiest she would ever feel? Could she and George feel like this every day?  

“To the bride and groom!” Lydia recognized the voice and snapped her eyes toward it. It was Dave Novoselic, chucking back something clear, seated at the head of the table. He had joined the reception while she was downstairs, stepping out to make a phone call that she couldn't actually make.

“He saw the post and wanted to come—I didn’t know what to do,” George said, running a finger up Lydia’s neck. Dave wiped his mouth and winked at Lydia before turning back to Ryan.

Lydia smiled and took another long drink. It was her wedding day, and she would stay happy, no matter what.

next chapter ->

[1d1195]

Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

*

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

*

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. ��Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

--

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[stylespctals]

The nanny | Part 1 - Pining

Summary: where Y/N is the nanny for a little girl named Stevie Styles. Her job consists of traveling all around the world with the girls rockstar dad - Harry Styles. What happens when Y/N and Harry start having feelings for one another?

A/N: This is my first writing on tumblr sorry if i’m rusty! I’ve written fanfictions for other celebs but never harry, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.4k

warnings: sickening fluff, sexual acts, mention of death, mentioning childbirth, harry being such a loving boy, y/n being shy

Read part 2 here

——————————————————————————

“Stevie I’m sorry your daddy won’t be home till later.” you say, trying to comfort the crying four year old.

“But I want daddy.” She screams. Starting to throw a tantrum; you don’t know how to stop it. Stevie has never thrown one before.

You became the nanny for Stevie two years ago when Harry realized it wasn’t possible to travel the world alone with a two year old.

Stevie’s mother passed when giving birth, her and Harry weren’t together. The conception was a drunken one night stand where Jessie- Stevie’s mother- convinced Harry she was on birth control. She wasn’t. Harry was so angry after that, but he also knew he was at fault for not taking an extra precaution. After she passed he mourned her pretty hard. He knew the effect it would have on his baby girl.

He realized he was relying too much on friends to look after Stevie when he was busy that he ended being forced to bring her to events she wasn’t welcome at. He knew he needed to get a nanny but he wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone with a stranger. That’s when he met you.

You and him met at a bar. Jeff invited Harry out to drinks with him and few of his and Glenne’s friends. You and Glenne were super close.

You guys hit it off super well and Harry knew you were the person he wanted as his nanny. He found out you are a nanny and immediately asked you if you would be his. He offered you triple what you other options would’ve paid, which made you laugh and assure him you didn’t need that and you would be honored to nanny such a sweet girl.

And here you are now, best friends with an international pop star and the nanny of the best girl in the world; trying to calm down the sweet girl.

“Shhh Stevie it’s okay, daddy will back soon I promise.” you say soothingly, trying to stop the four year old from squirming out of your arms.

“No!” the little girl screams, getting up and running to the couch; she puts her head on it and starts hitting it.

“Stevie Anne that is not a way to act!” Harry says sternly. Walking into a scene he never had before.

“Daddy!” she cries as she runs up and hugs his legs. Crying the hardest she ever has.

Harry frowns, realizing something is wrong.

He picks her up and places her on his hip, she wraps her arms around his neck and sits there and cries.

“What’s wrong love bug.” he says moving her curly red hair away from her face.

She’s a spitting image of Harry, except for her bright ginger hair.

You sit there and watch as Harry talks to Stevie in a calm soft voice and wipes her tears away. Smiling loving how different he is with her.

“I’m going to go put her to bed.” he mouths to her, Stevie was falling asleep in the comfort of her father’s arms.

You nod, he takes off towards the steps. You start cleaning up.

You’re in the kitchen when harry returns downstairs. He sits down at the bar stool and sighs.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. Grabbing him a glass of wine and sitting down next to him.

“Thanks.” he says taking a sip of the wine. “She was just really upset that i’ve been gone, it’s been a while since she’s been without seeing me all day. I didn’t know it would put this much effect on her but now I realize it is.” he says, rubbing his forehead while downing his glass of wine.

“Ay take it easy.” grabbing the wine glass out of his hand you go and set it in the sink. “You hate drinking while on tour. If you’re going to you gotta take it slow, alright?”

“Yeah yeah I know sorry i’m just stressed I feel terrible for making her upset. And i know she probably took it out on you, I hate to put you through that. She’s usually such a great kid and never has any problems.” he groans, putting his head against the granite countertops.

“H, it’s alright. This is what i signed up for, to be a nanny for this precious little girl through all the bad moments. Okay?” you say, placing your hand on his, making tingles run up your spine at the contact.

He looks up at you with this soft look in his eyes that you can’t decipher. He squeezes your hand with a smile and mumbles a thank you.

You smile at him and he pulls you into a tight hug.

You feel him take a deep breath through his nose; nuzzling into your soft hair.

He plants two kisses on your temple and pulls away, looking you deeply into your eyes. “You’re the best you know that?” he says, not taking his eyes off yours.

You get a little flustered under his gaze and look away blushing.

“Yeah whatever.” you shrug, hiding your eyes from his. His hand grabs your chin and makes you look at him again

“I’m serious Y/N. I couldn’t ask for someone better to do this with. I thought I was going to be alone raising her and I was so scared. Then you came along and you’re the biggest help and everything I needed to help me and her through this.” He says moving his hand to your cheek.

This brings tears to your eyes; you pull him for a right hug again and cry into his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me into her life. I don’t know what i’d do without you and her.” you sniffle, pulling away to wipe and your eyes.

He smiles and wipes your tears.

Oh my god you’re melting.

“I think maybe we should both get some sleep we seem pretty emotional.” he chuckles as he stands up out of his seat. He holds his hand out for you and you take it.

“Come on i’ll run a bath for you. You deserve it.” he says dragging you to the en-suite bathroom.

You swing your feet giddily as you pull yourself up on the counter and watch him prepare the bath. Is it bad you can feel yourself getting wet beneath your panties? Something about a man pampering you really gets you going.

“Okay all set.” he walks over to you and lifts you up off the counter. Making you smile. “See you in the morning sweets, I got a free day tomorrow and I want to spend it with you and Stevie, so be up and ready by 10! Have a surprise for you two.” he kisses your cheek again which makes your heart race.

“Goodnight, H.” you blush. Again. He gives you a wink then leaves the room.

You get undressed and into the bath.

You shamefully rub yourself to an orgasm thinking of your boss.

——————————————————————————

Harry’s fucked. Being in love with your nanny?

These type of things only happens in books.

I guess not for Harry.

You were constantly on Harry’s mind. He woke up thinking about you and went to bed thinking about you.

He also thought about you in other ways. Which he was a little shameful about.

With his hand wrapped around his shaft stroking himself thinking about you underneath him whining and begging him to fuck you.

He can’t even be shameful when that’s all on his mind.

He knows it’s wrong but he’s been in love with you since the beginning. He just doesn’t know how to tell you.

He imagines all the way he’s could confess to you, but, what if you don’t feel the same? That’s a nagging fear in the back of Harry’s mind.

What if you’re just in it for the money? What if you are doing this because he’s Harry Styles? That sounds so narcissistic he thinks but he can’t help his mind go there after that being the case in multiple of his past relationships.

He try’s to rid these thoughts as he cleans himself up, then nestles into his covers.

“I’m going to confess tomorrow.” He says to himself, not even knowing if that’s the truth or not.

——————

Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed, I will have part to you tomorrow!

I also will be making a post about request if you have any!

[niallsgoldhoop]

CHANNING

a harry styles one shot seven thousand words cw - sexual content, alcohol, harsh language, spitting, spanking, choking,

“I can’t believe you almost missed this.” Looking over at me, the dark eyes of my closest friend shine under the overhead lights. “I mean, come on— It’s Harryween.”

Using my pinky to perfect the edge of the color as I look in the mirror, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay well I couldn’t let this costume go to waste.”

“Honestly.” Adjusting the straps of her angel wings, she laughs. “It’s perfect.”

Tucking a lock of wavy copper hair behind my ear, the green foliage sewed to the leather top last minute contrasts against my porcelain skin in the best way.

As soon as the decision was made— the costume just happens to fall into place.

It took me less than a day to buy the ivy from a local craft store along with the needle and thread. Deep in the back of my closet there was a black leather corset, the kind that fastened in a line of delicate hooks up the front, one that pushed my breasts up even higher than normal. Pairing that with the black leather skirt that hit the middle of my thighs seemed like the only option that made sense.

Less than two hours sitting on my couch and watching Succession later and all of the ivy had been sewn into place. After a little maneuvering I even managed to turn the broad, verdant colored leaves to a makeshift garter for each of my thighs.

Standing here in this bathroom and looking at my reflection, the extra ivy twisting from the top of the high topped canvas sneakers on my feet, I can’t help but smile at how good it looks snaking over my toned calves and thick thighs.

Poison Ivy.

“We better get down to the pit before it gets too crazy.” With a wide smile on her face, I laugh along with her as her fingers tangle with mine, pulling me along. “If we’re lucky we can get close to the barricade.”

Staying close behind her, the two of us manage to squeeze through the sea of people, finding a spot in the pit good enough that we would be able to get a decent view.

I’d been to plenty of shows before but it felt like nothing compared to the pit at a Harry Styles show.

Even as the show eventually starts, it’s clear that everyone got the memo to dress up and seeing the man of the hour— I’m so glad this is where I ended up.

The way he looks tonight should be illegal.

The way he’s looking at me?

Criminal.

Up on the stage, I make eye contact with him again as he passes by, my body heating under his gaze for what feels like the millionth time.

“God, he keeps looking at you!” The girl with two boas and a pink cowboy hat next to me says, her eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”

I feel my lips as they turn into a smirk, raising my eyes back to the stage to see him in front of me again.

Being so close to the barricade was an accident. Somehow, someway we managed to make out way closer and closer as the night went on. Dancing with everyone around us all night has been the best part of the show.

Well… That and seeing Harry dressed in the most delicate and detailed costume.

A clown with the prettiest cream fabrics and lace along with the most perfect moon and stars offsetting the lighter colors with their darkness. Even his cheeks have the rosiest hue— complete with little pearl drops along his cheeks and above his brows.

Nothing too scary, but something just sexy enough.

As he plays the song everyone longs to hear, this time when lyrics roll off of his heart shaped lips in front of me, there’s no mistaking it.

‘And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you —‘

Eyes set on mine, he brings the tip of each finger to his flattened tongue, a tease of how he would certainly be able to please between the sheets.

Rolling my eyes as my best friend grabs my arm, her fingers pressing into the bare skin of my bicep, I find his gaze lingering before he moves on — deciding to entertain the other side of his stage before making his exit.

It feels like the scene of a documentary as the end of the show finally unfolds and people make their way from the stadium, a mass of people all looking for something to get them as high as the feeling Harry Styles gives them.

Laughing on the way out, I give the longest hugs that I can manage before slipping out into the night to find the small bar that has always welcomed me on a night like tonight.

A night when I’m not ready to dream quite yet.

Between the way the city never sleeps and the people out for their own version of tricks and treats, it feels like hours before I find what I’m looking for even if it’s not terribly far away from where I started.

Still dressed in the costume I threw together at the last minute, I don’t even find myself caring much about that. People from all across the city are dressed in various Halloween get ups— making it that much easier to blend in.

Even if the majority of my skin feels like it’s on display.

Smiling as I grip the door handle, it’s the large hand that covers mine that makes my heart race.

The anchor tattoo.

The mermaid.

The cross.

Turning on my heel, the same eyes that looked into mine in front of thirty thousand people trace over my face — over my freckles, over my cheekbones… Over my lips.

“It’s you.” Low and raspy, the accent drips off his lips as they turn into a sinister grin.

Rolling my tongue along the inside of my cheek, I watch his eyes follow the movement as I press through the door and let him follow.

“It’s me.”

The bar is small and dimly lit, the best place to come if you don’t want to be found.

I’ve come here for years, a product of begging to be lost.

Turning my back on him, I make my way to the bar and sit on one of the stools, smiling as the bartender makes his way down to me. I can feel Harry’s presence as he slides onto the stool next to me, his thigh brushing against the skin of my thigh that my skirt doesn’t cover.

“Hey, babe.” Leaning over the bar and kissing my cheek, the familiar face behind the bar places a shot glass on the counter before filling it with tequila and placing a lime along the rim, sliding it to me. “How was your night?”

My face turns towards the man next to me, his features sharper in the low light as he studies me carefully before I look away from him with a shrug. “It was okay.”

A laugh falls from his lips as he leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Okay? Is that all you have to say about me?”

“Maybe it is.” My shoulders lift in a shrug as I turn to face him, reaching for the shot and taking it, watching Harry as his eyes focus on my lips where I taste the lime. “Why? Are your feelings hurt?”

Catching the attention of the person behind the bar, those mossy eyes hold mine as he orders. “Can I please have four shots of tequila?”

“You alright with this guy, Chan?” Looking between the two of us, his eyes narrow in Harry’s direction.

I laugh. “We’re good. You can pull your best friend shit somewhere else.”

Rolling his eyes, he pours the shots out for the two of us. Leaving a small bowl of salt and limes before making his back to the other end of the bar.

“Chan?” Harry’s voice is rich and smooth, just like you always hear about. “Is that short for Chandler?”

I shake my head as I bring my hand up and flatten my tongue before running it across the back of my hand, eyes locked on his. “No, it’s not.”

“Are you going to tell me?” Watching my every move, his green eyes watch as I pinch salt between my fingers and let it fall to my skin.

“Should I?” Once again, I flatten my tongue across the same spot and taste the salt before picking up the small glass of liquor, tipping it back and letting it burn down my throat. “What’s in it for me if I do?”

Tension unlike I’ve ever known settled between us.

Somewhere my brain tells me to be careful, but the reckless part of me says that sometimes things are just meant to happen.

The odds of running into a man like him are practically zero. Yet here I am with flushed skin from the warmth of his proximity.

I reach for the lime but Harry beats me to it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and pressing the acidic fruit to my bottom lip, eyes begging for me to open for him.

“Suck.”

Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I flick my tongue across the broad side of the lime before wrapping my lips around it and following the simple instructions.

“So you do know how to listen.” Harry pulls his hand away from me before dropping the fruit back into the empty shot glass.

Tilting my head back, I laugh.

Pressing my hand on his thigh and leaning forward, this time my lips brush against his ear. “I only listen when I feel like it.”

“Hmm.” He hums as he leans back, eyes looking over my body. “Do you feel like listening tonight?”

I shake my head as he reaches for my hand and pulls me in close, his eyes burning through me as his tongue darts out and presses to my skin along my forearm. Holding me in place and using his other hand, he easily sprinkles the salt along my heated skin before flattening his tongue and tasting it.

My breath hitches in my throat as his fingers tip the glass back, taking the lime and holding it out for me. Taking the hint, I bite onto it and lean towards him letting him take it from me with a smug grin on his face. His lips brush against mine for only a moment before he leans away from me, sucking the juice out of the fruit to chase the bitter taste of the liquor. “Come on, tell me your name.”

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Squeezing his thigh, I brush my lips against the base of his throat, smiling when I feel him swallow thickly.

“And what’s that?” Gripping my chin, Harry tilts my head backwards and grins at me, his notorious bunny teeth biting into his bottom lip.

I roll my tongue along my bottom lip, watching as his eyes drop to my mouth. “You keep staring at my lips like you want them to do something.”

“Yeah?” His grip on my chin tightens. “What if I want to put them to work?”

I lick my bottom lip as my breathing shallows, giving Harry the opportunity to press his thumb into the small bowl of salt and brush it along my bottom lip. “I’d say you talk a lot for someone who hasn’t made a move yet.”

Harry’s eyes darken as he leans in, flicking his tongue along my bottom lip and tasting the salt. Reaching for one of the last two shots that he ordered, I watch as he pours the liquid into his mouth before using his thumb to pull on my bottom lip in a silent request.

Running my tongue along my lower lip and opening my mouth for him, I can’t even be bothered to be surrounded by other people or the sound that comes from the back of my mouth when he spits the liquor onto my waiting tongue.

Grabbing the lime and holding it against the skin of my throat, I’m almost embarrassed by the whimper that falls from my lips when he squeezes the wedge and his warm tongue catches the juice as it rolls down the column of my throat as I swallow.

“That’s right… Swallow for me, pretty girl.”

I can barely register his words before his lips are on mine and I can taste the flavor on his tongue as it finds mine, one of his hands sliding back into the waves at the nape of my neck and the other slipping just under the hem of my skirt and past the dark leaves of my costume.

He kisses me hard and with no abandon, as if he wants nothing more than to devour me. Leaning closer to him and hooking my finger into the waistband of his pants, I moan lightly when his teeth drag across my bottom lip.

“I need to get you alone.” He mumbles, his hand sliding along the inside of my thigh as his fingertips dance across my skin. “Need you on your knees while I watch those lips wrap around me.

I gasp when he drops his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking my skin. “There’s a private bathroom in the office— fuck, down the hall.”

Leaving the last shot, Harry takes my hand and pulls me towards the hallway that leads us in the right direction. With his arms wrapping around my body from behind, once we stop just long enough for me to punch in the code for the keypad I can feel him hard and ready behind me.

“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to take you right fucking here.” Nipping my earlobe, Harry plays with the hem of my skirt as his hand grips my throat and turns my head to the side, giving him more access. “How many ways are you going to let me fuck you, pretty girl?”

“Fuck.” Punching the last number into the keypad, when it beeps twice and I turn the handle, it opens easily.

We barely make it into the room and slam the door before Harry turns on me, pressing my body into the door and pressing his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place.

His mouth is on mine in a messy and hungry kiss all while his hands take their time exploring my body. From my breasts to my ass, not one place goes unnoticed by his skilled hands.

“This fucking costume.” Bringing the skin at the base of my throat between his teeth only to soothe it with his tongue, I shiver when he drags his finger along the top of the ivy, digging behind it enough to trace my skin. “People think that it’s so bright on stage and that I can’t see, but I do — I fucking see everything.”

Kissing under my jaw, his hands work the hooks that line the front of the top, one by one. “Tell me what you saw, Harry.

“You want to know?” Dragging his tongue across the swell of my breasts, I reach up and run my nails across his scalp, making him moan. “I saw you, dressed in this—“ Releasing the last button and letting the top of the corset fall to the floor, Harry cups both of my breasts and squeezes them, pinching each nipple at the same time. “I watched you dance, seeing your perfect ass sway from side to side like you didn’t give a single fuck that I was on that stage.”

Dropping down, Harry runs his tongue across the sensitive peak a moment before taking it between his teeth, pulling back enough to make me gasp. “I didn’t— I was more of a Niall girl—”

“Beautiful and bratty, huh?” His fingers find my throat as I smile, pressing into my skin just enough that my lips part on an exhale from the rush. “The only name that's going to come off your lips tonight is mine.”

“You seem so—.” My thoughts all but disappear when I feel Harry reach down and slip his hand under the tight material of my skirt after tracing the edge of the garter along my thighs.

Taking my nipple back into his mouth and teasing, he pulls back to look at me as his knuckle presses into my clit over the fabric of my underwear. “I seem so what, Chan? You won’t even tell me your name yet here you are — dripping down the inside of your thighs for me.”

“So full of yourself.” I finally get out. “Maybe you really are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

Pushing the fabric aside, Harry doesn’t even pace himself, sliding two fingers deep inside of me and making me cry out as his thumb circles my clit with so much pressure it borders pain. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Harry—“ I moan.

Curling his fingers, I feel like my body is on overdrive as he works an orgasm out of my body quicker than even I’ve been able to do it. . “Come on my fingers for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

Reaching out and gripping his shoulders, I can see the dark evergreen of his eyes just on the rim of his blown out pupils under the lights as his breath comes out shallow, the muscles under his skin flexing as he works me even harder through my orgasm.

Once my body loses all of the tension I tip forward into Harry’s arms with a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Yeah? That good?” He smirks as he wraps my hair around his fist. Once, twice. “Chan, I need to ask you something.”

I nod, my eyes the only things he’s focused on. “Now you want to ask questions?”

“I’m serious.” His nose brushes mine before he places a soft kiss to my lips, a complete contrast to the way he just coaxed a release from my body. “I need to know that if you don’t like something or you want me to stop that you’ll tell me, okay?”

I nod, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, taking my time to enjoy the way his tongue feels moving with mine. “I promise.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes burn into my features looking for any sign of hesitance.

“I’m sure.” Getting impatient, I nip his bottom lip. “Now, are you going to fuck me or stand here and be a gentleman all night? Which one is it?”

“Such a fucking mouth on you.” Flexing his hand in my hair and pulling tighter, there’s no option but for me to sink to my knees as Harry guides me. “I hope you know how to use it for more than just your attitude.”

Sitting back on my heels, I lick my lips. “Only one way to find out.”

“Go on then.” Nodding towards his straining cock beneath the fabric of his pants, he waits for me to undo the button. “Let me watch you choke on my cock so that you can’t talk back to me.”

When my hands finally free him, I whimper at the same time Harry’s groan fills the small office. Leaking with precome, I flick the tip of my tongue to collect the pearly drops.

“Pinch my thigh if it gets to be too much, yeah?” Using his hand that doesn’t still have my hair wrapped around his fist, he cups my jaw and runs his thumb across my cheek as I nod. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me.”

Taking Harry into my mouth, I wish I could take a picture of how he looks from this angle. His head tilts back as a moan curves around his lips, I swear to god I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire life. Pushing his hips forward slowly, I hollow my cheeks as I use my tongue to feel every single ridge and vein he has to offer me. My hands rest on his thighs as he drops his head down and meets my gaze.

“I’m going to go harder, is that okay?” With his cock still in my mouth, I nod. “Good fucking girl, good girl.”

Harry pushes his thighs even deeper, groaning at the feeling of his cock sliding down the back of my throat and making the muscles constrict around him from the intrusion. It feels like so much pressure and not enough at the same time as he repeats the action. Tears form in my waterline as I choke over and over, the tears spilling out onto my cheeks.

“See how good you're taking my cock down your pretty little throat?” Sliding his hand from my cheek, I moan around him as his hand rests across my throat. “Fuck, are you going to swallow for me?”

I choke once more, nodding.

“Good.”

It’s one word that precedes his release, one that I make good on my promise and swallow every drop of.

Once Harry pulls back, I take a deep breath and look up to him for only a moment before he pulls me to my feet and spins us around. Lifting me up and sitting me onto the desk, stepping between my legs and tracing his fingers over the edges of the ivy still wrapped around me.

Instantly his lips are on mine, groaning at his own tastes as he reaches between my legs and pushes the material of the leather skirt up, his fingers finding the sensitive nerve at the apex of my thighs as my hips roll forward to meet the friction.

“Are you this wet for me?” Lips ghosting over mine, his fingers find my nipple, pinching. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, please.” I say, looking into his eyes as he brings his fingers up, smearing the arousal across my bottom lip before kissing me again.

It’s impossible not to feel crazed as his hands fall to my thighs and push up my skirt, watching as it bunches up around my hips. “Lay back for me.”

Placing his hand in the center of my chest, I fall back onto the desk and whimper when I feel his warm lips leaving lingering kisses along the inside of my thighs.

“Look at you, so willing to let me do whatever I want with you tonight. I don’t even want to unwrap this pretty package you’ve put on for me.” His breath ghost across my center, the anticipation making me feel like I could explode at any minute. “I guess I got lucky— finding you on a night where you want to listen. A night where you want to be told what to do. Am I right?”

Harry doesn’t give the time to formulate an answer, his tongue immediately pressing into my clit before sucking it into his mouth. The action takes me by surprise as my back arches off the desk and my hands search for anything to hold onto.

Dragging patterns across the nerve, I cry out his name as he devours me like he’s never done before. As he releases my clit, his tongue finds my entrance and makes a languid path through my arousal before reaching the place I want him the most.

Up and down.

Side to side.

The stimulation makes my thighs shake as he tugs my hips toward him until my ass hangs off the desk and he pulls my dripping cunt even further into his face.

“Harry, fuck.” My hands flip, nails digging into the wood of the desk no doubt leaving marks. “Right there, fuck. I’ve never— never been so close so fast—“

Pushing myself up to my elbows, I let my head roll back as Harry rolls my clit between his teeth before pulling back, delivering a harsh slap to my outer thigh.

“Do you want to come for me?” Pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee, he raises a brow in my direction and smirks when I nod. “If you want to come for me— if you’re going to scream my name— you’re going to watch me as you do it. You’re going to watch me devour you like my last meal, do you understand?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod, resisting the urge to roll my head back when he immediately finds my clit and brings two fingers to my entrance, pushing them in and finding my g-spot.

“Harry.” His name falls off my lips like a prayer as he keeps his eyes on mine. “Please, please let me come. I need it, I—

I feel it as my body gives into the pleasure Harry so willingly gives.

My back arches, my breast pushing up into the air and not even a sound is able to pour from my mouth. Reaching out to grasp something and knocking a cup of pens onto the floor behind me, I cry out.

“Let everyone know who makes you feel this good.” Standing up, Harry looks down at me as he fists his cock in his hand. “I need to be inside of you right fucking now.”

“Condom?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.

Harry reaches behind him and grabs his wallet, pulling one out and ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on his length. “Tell me what you want? Hard? Soft?”

“Give me what nobody else can, don’t fucking hold back.” I grit out, feeling him run his cock along my clit. “Prove to me that you can fuck as good as everyone thinks you can.”

Harry smiles down at me only a moment before thrusting his hips forward, burying himself as deep as possible, making me scream out for him. “How’s that for a start? You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Harry!” I cry. “I need it just like that, so deep.”

Pulling his hips back, Harry leans over to kiss me as he thrusts again, the power behind it pushing the desk forward an inch. “Yeah? You like feeling like this? Feeling so fucking full that you can’t stand it. Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well, so fucking well.”

“You’re so big, shit.” I moan, my head lolling to the side as his hands spread across my waist and grip me before slamming into me. “God. It feels so— so fucking good.”

“You can take it.” Harry moans above me, his eyes going back and forth between my face to where he disappears inside of me, watching as I take every inch of him. “It feels like this was made for me. So tight, so warm.”

“Please, I need more—“

At my words alone, Harry pulls out and pulls me off the desk and turns me around. Pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, he bends me over the desk before pushing my skirt back up around my waist and grips the waistband to hold me in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” Peering at him over my shoulder, I open my mouth on a breathless moan when his hand cracks across the left side of my ass — quickly followed by the right. “Did you need me to fuck you from behind so I could spank you like this? Huh?”

I feel Harry as he slowly pushes his hips forward, filling me. Listening to his moans as they bounce off the walls, my own whimpers mix with the sound. Gripping my hips, he takes his time as he works so slow — each inch more agonizing than the last before his hips press against my ass.

“Are you going soft on me back there?” Looking at him over my shoulder, I smirk when fire flashes behind his eyes. “Is the guy from the bar all of a sudden gone?”

Harry rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before raising his hand and delivering a harsh slap, one that’s sure to leave his handprint behind.

“I know you fucking like that, don’t you? You’re squeezing my cock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.” Fingers digging into my hips, I moan when he pulls me back onto his cock and buries himself even deeper. “Tell me — tell me I'm the best you’ve ever had.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, I try to ground myself as Harry brushes against my g-spot with every single thrust, the pull in the base of my spine getting so strong that I don’t know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.

“I’ve neve been fucked like this.” I cry. “Nobody has ever, ever made me feel so fucking good.”

My eyes roll back as Harry presses his fingers against my clit and works them in time with his trusts, making me push up onto the tips of my toes in search of the release that isn’t far off.

“Like that, oh my god.” Panting, I meet him thrust for thrust as he fucks me harder and harder. “I'm so close.”

“Come on pretty poison girl, soak my cock for me.” Gripping the back of my neck, Harry presses me into the desk and gives me everything he has until my body gives up, releasing around him. “Fuck. you feel so good when you come around me like that. So damn good.”

Slowing his rhythm, Harry sweeps my hair off of my back and leans over me, pressing kisses up the curve of my spine. “Harry.”

“Yes?” His voice is soft as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You are incredible.”

“One more.” The words fall from my lips even though I know that I'm so fucked, that I know I won’t last much longer. “I want one more.”

Stopping his movements, I feel Harry chuckle. “You think you can handle me again?”

“I want to see you.” I say, my eyes darting toward the door of the bathroom. “Let me watch you come undone over me.”

Harry grins as he pulls out, the loss of him more than I expected. “I never would have guessed the woman in the crowd would be able to fuck me so well.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate people, Harry.” I walk in front of him, listening to the way he moans when he sees my own release dripping down the inside of my thighs. “Do you like what you see?”

“Fuck.” Running his hand through his curls. He looks freshly fucked and I can’t wait to finish him. “Let me see you.”

Stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light, the sleek and modern design is perfect. Turning, Harry steps close and finds my lips with his, taking his time to kiss me as his hands once again wander my body.

When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I let my head tilt back. “Come on. Give me what I want.”

“So fucking needy.” Harry responds, turning me around and pinning me against the counter. “Bend over, you pretty slut.” Pressing my ass out and shaking it from side to side, I cry out when Harry strikes his palm across each cheek. “How many?”

The tone in his voice makes me moan. “Fuck.”

“I said—“ Cracking down his palm again, he steps up behind me, pushing just his tip inside of my throbbing center. “How many.”

“Until you think I’ve had enough.”

I arch my back when he thrusts forward, his hand connecting with my ass even harder. “What if I never get enough. huh?”

“Harry—“

“What if I'm starting to think one night isn’t enough for me?” He thrusts so deep and I’m so sensitive that it feels so good, I clench around him. “Fuck, when you grip my cock like that I never want to leave — I could fuck you all damn night.”

I moan as I meet his gaze in the mirror, looking at the tattoos on his arms as he slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back onto his cock. “Don’t say that.”

“What? Don’t say that I want you?” Bringing his palm against my skin, his gaze locks on mine. “This— fuck, this isn’t normal.”

“What?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and letting my head fall forward. “What isn’t—”

“Feeling like this after one night.” Thrusting into me so hard that I scream, I feel tears in my eyes over the way my body feels ready to give into him again. “I’ve never had sex like this, never fucked anyone this good.”

I let my head fall to the side as my cheek presses against the cool counter, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the small room. “That’s because you've never been with someone like me before.”

“Fuck—“ Harry is relentless as he searches for his release. “I need you to come for me again, please.”

Begging me, his eyes are hazy as he looks at me, gaze looking with mine until with one thrust, my body shatters around his. “Harry!”

“Oh, shit—“

I watch as his head rolls back and his body stills for just a moment before his hips slowly guide in and out of me, riding us through the orgasms we’ve given each other.

“There you go, pretty girl.” Running his hands up and down my back. I take a deep breath. “You’re so fucking good. So good, Chan.”

I take a deep breath as I try to center myself. “Harry, that was—“

Resting his forehead between my shoulder blades, his warm breath skates across my skin. “I didn’t know it would be like that when I saw you tonight, the woman dressed with ivy across her body— that the vines would wrap around me and pull me in.”

“I don’t know why you’re the surprised one.” I say, wetting my lips. “You’re the one that showed up here. How?”

Harry pulls out, a whimper falling from my lips at the loss of him. “I don’t know… I wanted to get a drink somewhere where I wouldn’t feel like Harry Styles — I wanted to go somewhere small and local.”

“And you ended up here?” I ask, looking up at him from under my lashes.

Grabbing a hand towel, Harry presses a kiss to my temple before running it under warm water and hoisting me onto the counter, laughing as I wince.

“I ended up here.” He smiles as he reaches his hand between my legs, kissing me when I gasp as he runs the warm cloth over my sensitive clit.

We both look at each other and it’s almost like Harry can’t help it when he leans down to kiss me, taking his time as his hands come up to cup my cheeks.

“Let’s get you dressed, okay?” He speaks the words against my lips but makes no move to let me off the counter to grab my top. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

I laugh. “Come on, we have to get out of here before someone comes in.”

“I hope they do.” kissing down the side of my neck, Harry rests his forehead against my collarbone. “I need everyone to know I was with you — that you’ve been fucked you harder than you ever have in your life.”

Resting my hand in the middle of his chest, I push him backwards and hop off the counter on shaky legs, Harry laughing as he rests his hands on my hips to guide me back into the office.

“Here, let me help you.” It’s a sweet gesture to see a man like him help me back into my top, watching as he uses all of his concentration to make sure every hook gets fastened properly while he doesn’t disturb the leaves.

“Thank you… For tonight.” I say, looking over his features. “I really had a good time.”

Harry smiles and brushes a lock of hair from off my face. “I did too.”

I give him one last smile, reaching for the door handle.

Before I turn it, Harry reaches for my hand, turning me and pressing me into the door one last time, finding my lips with his own.

Unlike most of the kisses tonight, this one is so slow, so gentle.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to be able to see you again — I don't know what my brain is doing to me, but I just know that I need it.” The look in his eyes is so full of hope, so soft. “I’ll understand if you say no.”

“Here.” I hold my hand out, hoping he gets the hint.

When he does, he takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. I easily put my name and number in before giving it back to him, watching his lips curl up with a grin.

“Channing?” Looking from his phone to me, I smile as my hand grips the doorknob and finally push it open.

I wink at him as I step out into the hall. “It’s me.”

He steps forward and grips my hip one last time. bringing his lips down to mine.

“It’s you.”

💖

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 04

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

There he stood, right in front of her, a smile playing on his lips as their gazes met. Y/N felt a rush of emotions, a mix of surprise, nostalgia, and an underlying current of something more profound. The unspoken words of their past seemed to linger in the air between them.

Harry, with his soft brown curls and a simple white shirt paired with jeans and worn-out vans, looked like a page from a memory that she had been trying to forget. Yet, as he stood there, the year they hadn’t seen each other melted away, and they found themselves suspended in a moment that defied time; it seemed like the past months never happened.

The Love Band's living room, with its soft lighting and the faint melody of Fleetwood Mac in the background, turned into a cozy space where only the current moment held importance, at least for Y/N and Harry.

"Hi, sunflower," he replied, the words carrying a weight that transcended the casual greeting. The endearment was a throwback to the days when Harry used to affectionately call her by that sweet nickname, a reminder of their time together.

To Y/N, hearing it from him sounded bittersweet, like the echoes of a melody that brought both the joy of nostalgia and the ache of what they were once.

As Harry spoke, his heart seemed to beat in his chest like the rhythm of a familiar song. In awe of her presence, he couldn't help but marvel at the woman she was. The way her eyes sparkled, the slight curve of her lips as she smiled – it was a sight he had missed more than he realized. 

In that suspended moment, their gazes held a conversation that words struggled to capture. Without a word, Y/N found herself stepping forward, drawn by an instinct that transcended logic. Harry, as if guided by the same unspoken force, opened his arms, a silent invitation.

As they embraced, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the comforting warmth of each other's presence. The hug felt like coming home after a long journey, a familiar haven that resonated with shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the soft melody of their intertwined past.

For a moment, the cozy living room encapsulated the essence of what they used to be – a refuge where their souls met without pretense. The faint scent of Harry's cologne, the gentle rise and fall of their shared breaths, all contributed to the sanctuary of the embrace.

However, as they lingered in the hug, reality began to reassert itself. The made-up living room, once an intimate haven, became a stage where the complexity of their emotions played out. They reluctantly pulled away, a mutual understanding passing between them. The connection was undeniable, but so was the need for boundaries.

"I loved the show, Harry, you did amazing," Y/N said, a soft smile on her lips as she attempted to bridge the transition from the warmth of the hug to the safer ground of friendship. "I love the new album, too."

Harry's eyes crinkled at the corners, appreciating her genuine compliment. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot coming from you."

In his mind, he couldn't help but think that she was the muse behind the songs, wondering if she realized the entire album was dedicated to her. The melodies and lyrics, born from their shared experiences, whispered a silent acknowledgment of the impact she had on his creative journey.

"I can see how much you've all grown as a band," Y/N continued, her gaze drifting to the people surrounding them, all engaging in conversation between them, trying to give the couple a little privacy. "The Love Band has really evolved, and it's inspiring."

Harry nodded, a humble gratitude in his response. "We've put a lot of heart into it. It's been quite a journey."

"Speaking of journeys, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, pointing towards the two girls that stood a few meters away. "Let me present you to them; they're fans, just like me." She joked, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the playful introduction.

Both Harry and Y/N walked towards them, and as they neared, Natalie and Maia exchanged excited glances, their smiles widening at the sight of the acclaimed musician in their midst.

"Harry, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, gesturing towards the two girls who stood now close to the pair. "Natalie and Maia, this is Harry."

Harry offered a warm smile, extending his hand to each of them. "Nice to meet you both."

Natalie and Maia, both trying to contain their excitement —understanding that he was also their friend’s ex-boyfriend— shook his hand enthusiastically, exchanging introductions with genuine joy. "Nice to meet you Harry, we enjoyed the show so much," Natalie admitted.

Y/N, sensing the formal atmosphere, playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, you two, you can fangirl. It's okay."

This broke the ice, and they all burst into laughter. The living room, with its soft lighting and the distant hum of Fleetwood Mac's tunes, witnessed the easy camaraderie of new friends. As they settled into conversation, the transition from fan admiration to genuine connection felt effortless, the shared laughter echoing in harmony with the melodies that surrounded them.

Y/N, sensing Natalie and Maia's eagerness to get to know one of the artists they both admired, decided to give them some space. With a smile, she excused herself, mentioning she needed a moment and headed towards the conjoined bathroom.

As she closed the door behind her, Y/N took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts in the brief solitude. The room's distant chatter and laughter, though comforting, served as a stark reminder of the evening's unexpected reunion with Harry.

As her eyes met her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a mix of emotions played across her face. There was joy, undoubtedly, at the sight of Harry again after a year of separation. His presence evoked a rush of memories, laughter, and shared moments that had shaped a significant chapter of her life. Yet, intertwined with that joy was an ache, a reminder of the emotions she thought time had dulled.

The realization hit her; she had missed him more than she allowed herself to acknowledge. Seeing him, hearing his voice, brought back the echoes of the past, the shared dreams and the bitter taste of the breakup that lingered beneath the surface. It was as if time had folded, and for a moment, the wound felt fresh again.

She held back tears, feeling the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The bathroom, with its muted ambiance, became a sanctuary where she grappled with the bittersweet truth of their renewed connection. The mix of emotions was a testament to the complexity of their history, a narrative that had left an indelible mark on her heart.

Lost in her whirlwind of memories and emotions, Y/N hadn't realized how much time had passed. The knock on the bathroom door jolted her back to the present, and she hastily wiped away a stray tear. "Coming!" she called out, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

A familiar voice responded, breaking through the door's barrier. "It's me, sunflower. Can I come in?"

Y/N took a big breath, her heart fluttering at the endearing nickname that held echoes of a shared past. With a decisive nod, she unlocked the door, letting him in.

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a smiling Y/N, standing amidst the faint glow of the room. Yet, as normal as she tried to portray herself, he knew her more than she knew herself.

Harry stepped in, closing the door behind him, his green eyes holding a mixture of concern and understanding. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, just needed a moment.” The bathroom felt like their own little bubble and privacy; vulnerable. And for a moment, this was her Harry —well, was— and decided to just be honest. “It's just… a lot to take in, you know?"

Harry mirrored her sad smile, acknowledging the weight of their reunion. "I understand. It's a lot for me too." He gently touched her arm in a comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes. "I never expected to see you in the crowd again… after everything.”

For him, the sight of her in the audience triggered a strong sense of déjà vu, as if time had folded back on itself, recalling the moments when she used to be a familiar face in the crowd every night during their time together.

Feeling the warmth of his touch and the weight of shared history, Y/N found herself enveloped in a spontaneous hug. Harry's arms wrapped around her, a familiar embrace that brought a rush of mixed emotions. At that moment, words seemed inadequate, so they let the hug speak for itself.

"I missed you, bug," Harry whispered, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I'm glad you're here."

Y/N, her eyes damp with unshed tears, managed a small, heartfelt smile. "Me too." The simplicity of those words carried the depth of the emotions they both felt. In the shared hug, amidst the echoes of their past and the uncertainties of the present, they found a moment of solace—a bridge between what was and what could be.

hellooo i'm back!! :) if you want to be added to the taglist, please reply to this post! thank you so much for the support, hope u enjoy <3

taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate  @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @ameerakane20 @hesdebility

[distracted-milkshake]

I know I haven't been online to some of you in some months, but I cannot possibly stress how important this is. 

A woman named Bisan, a journalist in Gaza, was in the last hospital standing in what's left of the Gaza Strip. They are being carpet bombed, bombing every inch, destroying everything. 

This isn't a joke or a movie or some hoax, this is really happening. 

She is in tears and can hardly get the words out as the sounds of bombs and guns drown her out. The people there are injured, trapped, and have nowhere to go. 

The week the 21st-28th of January, 2024, STRIKE. 

This is unforgivable and inexcusable. 

In any way you are able, don't shop, donate, march or protest, spread the stories of those trapped and have been killed, and tell people why you're striking. Even if your busy or it's hard, it's nothing compared to what's happening in Palestine. 

Don't think it's useless. 

No national news will cover this. 

You are the last resort these people have. 

This applies to everyone reading this everywhere in the world. These people are not terrorists. 

Even terrorists don't deserve this, and it would be illegal. 

Reblog and repost this to as many people as you can. Share, screenshot, email, and speak out. Don't be the generation that watched a genocide happen and did nothing. 

Again, the week the 21st-28th of January, 2024. 

Share this to your whole follower list. 

Save Gaza. 

[freedomfireflies]

Ours*

Summary: The second part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has arranged a phone-call with one of his most notorious enemies.

Lucky for you, you’ve got a front row seat to the show.

His cock.

Word Count: 4.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“How long?”

“Five minutes. At least.”

“And everybody knows the plan?”

Asher nods. “They don’t move until they have my signal.”

“Good,” Harry murmurs, glancing down at his desk, narrowed eyes finding the open file. “Sugar, are you doing okay?”

Without even looking over at you, Harry can sense the way you’ve begun to recoil into yourself. And your cheeks warm at the dominant but caring edge to his voice as you clear your throat and scoot to the edge of the couch.

“Yes,” you call. “Just…nervous for you.”

Asher smirks to himself as Harry looks up, wearing a similarly amused expression. 

“Nervous for us, huh?” Harry muses, leaning back in his seat as he crosses his arms. “What, you think we can’t handle it?”

“No. No, of course not, I just…I want you to get him,” you clarify, glancing down at your lap to avoid their entertained stares. 

“We will,” Asher tells you, rather resolutely. “Trust me, sweetheart. He’s not gonna be our problem much longer.”

Harry nods once in agreement. “Nothing to be nervous about. He’s nothing. A fucking cockroach with his head up as his own ass. We aren’t gonna let him touch you.”

“I’m not worried about me, Har,” you sigh as you stand from the sofa. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. To any of you.”

He eyes you for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before motioning you closer.

Eagerly, you make your way over as Asher side steps out of the way to make room, and once you’re close enough, Harry quickly guides you toward his desk and sits you down on top.

“You don’t have to worry about me, mama,” he murmurs as he stands and makes a home between your thighs. “M’not ever gonna leave you. That’s why I’m staying here. So I can make sure you’re safe.”

You smile as he takes hold of your face between his large palms. “I always worry about you, Har. Whether you’re in here with me or out there with them. I just…I want you to be okay.”

“I am okay,” he says calmly, dipping down to press his lips to your top one. “Right here. With you.”

Asher clears his throat.

Harry’s eyes roll. “And Asher, too.”

Grinning, you glance over your shoulder at Harry’s right-hand man, who nods his approval.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he agrees. “Sean’s not gonna lay a fucking finger on you. Either of you. I promise.”

You smile your gratefulness before glancing back at your boyfriend, whose lips are pursed.

And you know why. While he understands the sentiment, he hates promises. 

This has been an ongoing argument throughout your entire relationship. 

He thinks promises are bullshit—nothing but wishful thinking and empty declarations. Nobody can guarantee anything. Especially in this line of work. You can’t possibly swear to make sure something happens when the entire world is working against you. 

But you think promises are the only real thing to hold onto you. A trust and a deal created based on faith and understanding. No, you will never be a hundred percent certain. But you’ll try. And sometimes…giving someone your word can make all the difference.

Asher knows Harry’s aversions to the phrase, having been reprimanded for it before. But you know he’s chosen to say it now because not only does he mean it…he knows you need to hear it.

So, Harry allows Asher to make you this guarantee. Because whether or not he believes in the idea…he chooses to believe in Asher. And in his ability to keep you safe.

“So…what do you need me to do?” you ask, fingers curling around Harry’s wrists to make sure he keeps holding onto you. 

“Stay right here,” he declares. “And give me something pretty to look at.”

Your face warms at the compliment, although you know he’s not kidding. “Ha, ha.”

He merely grins as he leans in for another kiss. This one much longer and much…heavier.

Whether or not he admits it…he’s nervous. He wants to know you’re safe more than he wants air in his lungs. Wants to be able to tell you that you’re safe and mean it. 

Deep down, he wants to promise you that nobody will ever get to you.

Finding Sean is simply the first step in that direction.

And if they don’t—

The phone rings.

You jolt in place from the sudden and shrill sound while Harry leans back and meets Asher’s eye.

Asher nods, finger coming up to tap his earpiece as he mutters, “Standby.”

Your heart begins to hammer inside your chest as you look between them and get ready to slip off Harry’s desk so you can return to the sofa.

But before you can, his large arm is outstretching across your body, blocking your path while his other hand moves to retrieve the phone.

Your mouth opens, ready to ask what he’s doing, but are unable to slip the question in before he brings the headset to his ear.

In a clipped voice, he sneers, “What?”

You watch his expression as he listens to the response, secretly wishing you could hear but knowing it’s probably better you can’t.

“Figured you’d find your way back to me eventually,” Harry replies, rather condescendingly. “But I’ll admit…I am a little disappointed I won’t get to put you on your fucking knees and make you beg.” 

Another beat as Harry awaits Sean’s response.

And whatever it is, it makes his brows weave a bit closer together as his teeth start to grit. The muscles in his already strong, tan arms begin to flex beneath his black t-shirt as he grabs onto your thigh and squeezes.

And at this point in your relationship, a firm touch like this doesn’t startle you, so you merely place your hand over his and do your best to offer some comfort.

He doesn’t show any signs of acknowledgment, but you know he appreciates it as he looks over at Asher.

Asher in turn takes a moment to listen to the response from his team before nodding his chin toward Harry, finger rolling through the air as an instruction to keep the conversation going.

“I’d watch your fucking tone,” Harry seethes, leaning forward as his mouth presses into the receiver. “There is no goddamn corner of the Earth that I couldn’t find you. And when you try to weasel your way out of our fucking deal…try to undercut me, and take what isn’t yours…the price on your fucking head goes up.”

You catch Asher mouth something to Harry as a silent conversation is had through tense glances.

With that, Harry presses a button on the base, slams the phone back into the switchhook, and instantly, the speakers come alive with the sounds of shouting.

Curious, your head tilts as you look over at your boyfriend, quietly questioning his intentions.

He simply throws you a smirk and takes hold of your hips right as the ringing of a gunshot echoes through.

And then, it happens again. And again. And again.

You feel the blood drain from your cheeks as you begin to piece together the truth. 

You’re listening to Harry’s team taking Sean hostage.

There’s yelling, and cursing, and more gunshots, and pleas for mercy. You imagine they’re taking out Sean’s own men first before moving for him, and the thought makes your head spin.

However, Harry smiles through it all, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning in to kiss you. 

You go still in his touch, unsure how to devote your attention to him when so much death and destruction is happening a few feet away.

But Harry doesn’t mind. He kisses you anyway. Takes control of you the way he’s so keen to do. He pries your lips apart and slips his tongue against yours. He moves his touch to the back of your neck to go a bit deeper and fully own you. And he grins sadistically through every second of it.

There’s some faint mumbling from the other side of the phone that you don’t hear or understand. But you do vaguely see Asher press his finger back into his earpiece as he nods at whatever is being said before turning to his boss.

“Ready,” he says as Harry hums and brushes his nose against yours.

“You still with me Sean?” Harry calls, and you swallow as you await Sean’s response.

It takes a moment for it to come, the rustling of violence slowing to a stop as a shuddering breath is heard.

“Fuck you.” The response is seethed through the speaker as Harry once again smiles to himself and rolls his head to the left so he can kiss the other side of your mouth.

“Easy,” he warns the convicted felon. “There are ladies present.”

Asher’s expression is smug and while you feel rather uncomfortable bearing witness to this side of Harry’s job, you can’t help but feel a little…thrilled.

You’ve always loved seeing him like this, although it is rare. Since he’s determined to keep you hidden away from his demons. 

But now, getting to see this kind of rage, this kind of power…you’re rather smitten.

A long stretch of silence follows Harry’s response, and he uses this time to begin trailing his free hand along your outer thigh.

His fingers dance across the fabric of your skirt before innocently slipping beneath to help guide your leg a bit further over, creating more space. 

You quickly grasp onto the edge of his desk to brace yourself as you stare at him, eyebrows flying up your forehead.

However, he simply sweeps his hand from your neck to your jaw, thumb brushing down your bottom lip.

“Do you know why…I’ve devoted so much time…so much money…to making sure that the men I do business with…are capable of doing it right?” Harry asks of Sean, his eyes on your mouth, touch once again traveling up your inner thigh as his intentions become clear. “Do you know why…it’s so easy for me…to find you? Put you on your fucking knees with a barrel to your head?”

There’s no answer from Sean. You didn’t imagine there would be. Harry merely wants an audience as he does what he does best.

Shows off.

“Because you…are fucking weak,” Harry continues in a near growl as he moves his lips to your neck and his fingers to your already damp panties. “Sloppy. Pathetic. Unable to follow a simple command.”

You swallow a whine as he slips beneath the band and finds your clit. He grazes it for only a moment before moving lower to find the pooling arousal being kept from him. 

“You underestimated me,” he murmurs, kissing just below your ear. “Underestimated what I’d do…to keep her safe.”

There’s another loud thud from the phone as Harry grins and eases a finger inside your aching hole.

“So…here’s what’s gonna happen,” he decides, waiting until you’ve actually begun to enjoy the feeling of his hand before taking it away from you altogether…and stepping back.

You just about crumble, whimpering to yourself as your nails scratch down the wooden table, and you watch him with a heavy lust.

But Harry doesn’t notice, instead nodding at his partner. “Hold her open,” he calls softly to the right-hand man, who obediently moves for you.

A tad curious, and endlessly intrigued, you look between them as Harry begins to roll up the sleeves of his nice dress shirt, stopping near the elbows, while Asher makes a home behind you.

His hands find your hips and he yanks you across the desk until your back meets his chest. Then, he leans forward so he can take hold of your legs and spread them as far as they’ll go, your muscles burning from such a stretch.

And Harry watches with a hunger you don’t think you’ve ever seen. You wonder if this has always been a secret kink of his, and truthfully…you wouldn’t be surprised.

He knows that Asher is probably scared shitless right now, terrified that if he makes one wrong move…it’s his head, next.

You imagine that’s what has Harry so awestruck. Knowing that the two most important people in his life have submitted to him. That they’ll do anything he asks. That in this instance…he has the power. The control. You’ll do whatever he tells you.

It’s probably why you’re so enamored, too. Because you know you’re safe. Every other day of your life, your safety can be called into question but now…with both of these men, you have never been more protected.

You’ll happily give them your pleasure, your body, your orgasms. Any fucking day of the week.

“I…am gonna fuck my girl,” Harry continues, once more speaking to Sean as he eyes your cunt and begins to kneel in front of you. “And lucky for you…I’m gonna let you listen.”

Your heart is in your throat with this admission, skin warming as he reaches for your underwear and easily snaps it from your hips. 

“And the second she comes…I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he finishes resolutely before surging forward and licking his tongue up your pussy.

You gasp so hard, you jolt against Asher’s chest, forcing his hands to tighten around your thighs as Harry begins. 

Your eyes just about roll back as soft, practiced licks are had across your cunt, teeth nipping at you with fervor. It’s…ecstasy. 

Sure, he’s eaten you out before. And he’s always been quite exceptional at it, too.

But never like this. Never under these conditions. Not with Asher in the room. Touching you. Holding you open. Holding you down. Keeping you still for his boss—your boyfriend—as a dangerous criminal is forced to listen over the phone.

“Oh, come on, sugar,” you hear Harry tut from between your thighs, and you look down as he glances up at you through his long lashes. “You know better than to be quiet, don’t you?”

He presses his tongue flat against you before you can respond, almost as if to ensure he’ll get the reaction he’s so desperately looking for.

And it works. You whimper as you nod, allowing the sounds to flow from you freely as you slouch in Asher’s hold.

“There you go,” Asher seems to chuckle in your ear. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

And you know he does. He’s now the only thing holding you up, keeping you from melting through the desk and onto the floor. 

Harry is quick with his work. Usually, he likes to drag this particular activity out. Work you up, leaving you hanging and desperate.

But today, he wants your orgasm. Wants that permission to kill the man he’s been hunting for weeks.

So, as the sounds of muffled grunts and pained groans continue to slip from the speaker, Harry adds two fingers into play. 

The moan you make is so loud, you can hear the echo of it through the phone. You writhe between the two men, head falling back against Asher’s shoulder as Harry’s grip in your knee tightens.

Harry knows you’re sensitive. Knows he hasn’t been able to give you the kind of care and attention you deserve. In fact, he’s had you do it yourself more times this week than he has your entire relationship.

And your own hand is fine, but it’s not him. It’s not his technique or his tongue or just…him. 

He’s the only one you want. He could be shit at it, and you think you’d still come just because he was the one doing it.

The closer you get, the more your legs shake. The more adamant Harry’s curling becomes. Until he’s stroking that one spot with so much determination that you begin to slip. 

And when he feels you slipping…he stops.

Of course, he stops.

After all, he promised Sean a good fucking.

And that’s exactly what he plans to deliver.

Harry straightens back up as you dejectedly slump into Asher, your eyelids growing heavy with longing.

He rips his belt off, the clanging of the metal sending goosebumps along your arms before he undoes the zipper. 

“Of all the fucking shit…you’ve taken from me,” Harry once again calls to Sean, a razor-like sharpness to his tone, “keeping me from my girl…has got to be your worst mistake yet.”

He takes out his cock, and the sight has you drooling. Saliva instantly filling your mouth as you eagerly watch him stroke it a few times before returning to you.

His other hand finds your cunt, fingers dragging up and down and through everything that’s collected. And the brief contact makes your hips buck up as Asher tsks in your ear and forces you back down.

Then, Harry’s touch is retreating and returning to his swollen tip as he drags your arousal down his shaft, just to watch it glisten with you.

You mewl, eyes flicking up to his as you silently plead with him to fill you. To wreck you, to ruin you, to claim you in front of everybody.

He grins.

Exactly one second manages to fit between the time that he places his hands beside Asher’s to spread you a bit further and when he’s burying himself inside your aching pussy. 

He’s not patient. Not gentle. Not kind. He knows you can fit him, knows you’ll take him, so he lets you. Lets you take him, lets himself stretch you, lets himself own you.

You groan his name as your arms fling around his neck, nails scratching down his scalp as he begins his tortuous pace. 

“Fucking missed you, mama,” Harry seethes in your ear, turning to press a lazy kiss to your cheek. “Missed this sweet, little pussy. S’always so good to me, isn’t it? Squeezes me just the way I like—”

“Please,” you whisper, rather dejectedly as the pleasure begins to consume you. Overtaking the part of your brain responsible for rational, coherent thoughts.

“So fucking tight, sugar,” Harry breathes, fingers curling around your thigh as if to steady himself. “Fucking perfect. Bet they wish they could feel you. Bet they wish they could feel how fucking wet you get for me. How fucking warm—”

He snaps forward, making you whine before he’s taking hold of your waist to drag you closer to him.

“Bet Asher would fucking love…to feel you,” Harry continues, almost condescendingly as he sneaks a sideways glance at his friend. “Bet you’d make his fucking day, mama. Bet he’s never had someone as tight as you. As fucking perfect as you and your pretty cunt. Bet he wanks off to the thought of you when I’m not around.”

You can’t see Asher’s face but from the way his touch has begun to grow heavy, you have a feeling you know exactly what he’s thinking. 

Harry’s devilish smirk returns as he presses his fingers into your clit. “Do you? Do you think about fucking my girlfriend? Think about taking her any way you want? Making her moan for you the way she moans for me?”

To accompany his comment, he shifts his thrusts up, forcing you to make that very noise as Asher exhales a shaky breath behind you.

“Know you do,” Harry tells him. “Just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, which you assume is meant to encourage Asher’s reply, and after about a minute…it comes.

“No,” he admits, voice thick as he readjusts his grip on your thighs. “No, I can’t.”

Harry is pleased with this, smiling to himself as he slips his hand under your shirt to find your tit and knead it in his palm. “You like watching me fuck her? Like holding her down for me while I ruin her? Like to pretend she isn't mine? But yours? Ours?”

You’d almost feel bad for Asher if you couldn’t feel how much he was enjoying this little show against your ass.

“Answer me,” Harry hisses when he’s met with no response.

“Yes,” Asher grits between clenched teeth, nails pressing crescent-shaped indents into your skin. 

Harry’s smug expression only grows as he drives his hips forward until you're keening. Then, his attention returns to you.

“Gonna come for me, mama?” he murmurs, dipping down to nose under your jaw until your head rolls back against Asher’s shoulder. “Yeah? Gonna let Sean hear your pretty little cries before I kill him? You gonna be the last thing he ever fucking hears?”

And really, you have no choice. Even if you wanted to be discreet, the way he’s got you held, the way his cock is claiming you from the inside out, the way his fingers are attacking your clit is making it impossible.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your throat as Harry squeezes and forces you upright. “No, you look at me,” he growls. “Look at me while I fuck you, do you understand?”

You attempt to nod but his grip keeps you from doing so. Instead, you simply clench around him and make another indiscernible noise.

And suddenly, everything whittles down to right now. To this moment as you watch him disappear into you over and over again. The way your body stretches to accommodate him. The way he groans at the sight. The way little droplets of sweat have begun to bead around his hairline.

He slows his thrusts some. So he can really make sure you feel him. So he can push past your muscles and drag himself through. So he can hit the spot you need until you go dizzy. Until you’re blubbering, “Please, please, please, Daddy,” repeatedly with each practiced drive of Harry’s hips.

The name seems to snap his last band of restraint as he growls and leaves bruises behind that will carry you through tomorrow.

And even Asher attempts to ease your neediness. His thumbs brushing back and forth on your thighs as he whispers, “Easy, sweetheart. It’s okay. Just breathe, yeah? Breathe.”

You’re thankful for the reminder. You don’t think you would have remembered otherwise. In fact, you’d almost forgotten how. You don’t remember anything right now except this feeling of tightness in your abdomen. Of euphoria building within your cunt as Harry repeatedly strikes you with white-hot licks of bliss.

“Getting close, aren’t you, sugar?” Harry mumbles, kisses moving down your neck as he flicks your clit beneath his thumb. Rubbing it in circles as you attempt to squeeze your legs closed. “Oh, I know. I know, honey. Want you to wait for me, all right? Want you to wait until I’ve filled you and then I want you to come with me, okay?”

You whimper again as his hand returns to your waist, waiting eagerly for him to finally find his end.

And you attempt to help him along, hands tangling in his hair, pussy fluttering around his cock, and soft, little whines urging him closer. 

The veins in his arms are pushing against his skin as he grips onto you. As he fights the urge to just throw you down onto the floor and split you in fucking half. 

You sort of wish he would.

But that thought is dangerous. Much too dangerous and you squirm a bit harder as you wrestle with the impending orgasm. Commanding yourself not to come until he has.

And feeling your struggle has Harry’s eyes rolling back as his rhythm begins to falter and he seethes, “That’s my fucking girl,” before releasing his load.

You bask in the feel of his warm seed filling you to the brim, vaguely aware of anything else until you hear Asher whisper, “Now, sweetheart. Go ahead.”

So…you do.

The office comes alive with near-pornographic moans and whispers of names. And in the middle of it all…gunshots.

Harry’s touch continues its assault on your clit as he rides you through your first and straight into your second. Wanting you to come to the sound of Sean and his men being eliminated one by one.

You choke on a pant as he attacks your sensitive, swollen cunt. As he forces you to find your second orgasm of the afternoon. As Asher continues to keep you spread, the warmth of his body, and the smell of his cologne overwhelming each of your senses.

It’s too much, too good. You feel powerless under the weight of this one moment. Of Harry, and Asher, and their promise to put you first. Keep you safe. Make it worth it.

The second one hits you so hard, it feels like a slap across the face, and Asher releases his hold on you so you can collapse into Harry’s chest and bury your face in his neck.

And Harry is more than happy to have you in his arms once again, caging you to his body as he murmurs his praises and gently slows his pace.

He kisses the top of your head, runs his fingers down your spine, and tells you how proud he is.

And as he does, Asher reaches for the phone, lifts it up, and slams it down to end the call. 

"Did so good for us, didn't you?" Harry says as you sigh with contentment and melt into his touch. "Didn't she?"

Asher hums. "So fucking good, sweetheart."

You revel in their voices. In their assurances. In the way they still sound like they're far from through with you.

And in the way you feel so safe.

Protected.

Now…it’s just the three of you.

And truthfully…

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next Part:

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

- Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[darlingdesire]

GOOD GIRL 18+

Harry is your sexy, rich boss. And you occasionally fuck in his office—so here's that!!

“Come here.”

His words were simple, but the way he spoke them sent a shiver down your spine and your breathing momentarily halt. Harry was sat at his desk, the only light coming from the lamp that cast a golden haze over his figure, intensifying the dark look on his face.

He looked up at you as if seeing right through you, reading every thought in your mind. "Y/N" His voice sounded deep and commanding yet still gentle. "Come here." He said again, this time more sternly than ever before. "Do not make me ask again."

You swallowed hard, trying to help down the shy feeling you got when Harry spoke to you this way; nodded, and began to make your feet move over to his desk. Your heels clicking against the floor was the only sound heard in his large office.

As soon as you made contact with his desk, he grabbed hold of both sides of your hips and pulled you closer towards himself. "Good girl..." he whispered into your ear, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. "...now sit down."

You blinked at him, trying to gauge what he meant by that; your mind was trying to figure out if he meant on the desk, or on his lap. You were overthinking it greatly, but being in his presence made you get that way. Who could blame you, he was your boss—one wrong move and you could be gone and replaced by some other girl just with a snap of his fingers. But you knew he wouldn't do that, he adored you too much.

He chuckled softly, watching you struggle to comprehend. "Sit on my lap, Love." He said simply, looking straight ahead without any hint of emotion whatsoever. "Don't think about anything else besides sitting there. Just focus on doing exactly as I say."

You glanced down at his clothed lap; it looked inviting, very inviting. So you lowered yourself down until you were seated on his lap. You tried to control your breathing, but knowing what was underneath you made you feel flustered. You could feel the way it had indented his black pants, and it pressed against the bottom of your thigh very distinctly.

His hand reached up and cupped one side of your face gently, stroking along your cheekbone."Relax, love." He murmured quietly, leaning forward slightly so that your noses brushed together. "Just breathe slowly...in through your nose...out through your mouth..good girl.”

You still hadn't said anything since entering his office, and you don't think you were capable of it anyway as you focused on steadying your breathing. It was embarrassing how much your heart was beating.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you try not to make too much noise while struggling to keep calm. “That's right, darling. Calm yourself down now..." He whispered soothingly, brushing his thumb across your lower lip once more. "...just let go...”

“Harry...” You whispered, not knowing what you were gonna say after that, the word just trailed off into the air. But it was also a plea, a desperate plea that begged him to continue with what he was doing—God, you wanted him bad.

The look in his eye told you everything you needed to know without needing to hear another word. "Shh...it'll be alright, darling." He said softly, kissing your forehead tenderly before pulling back again. “Now close your eyes for me, please?" He asked quietly, looking down.

You closed your eyes; the darkness clouding your vision and you could only focus on his touch and the heat of his intense stare on your face. This was a regular thing for the two of you, probably once or twice a week when he had to stay behind after hours for some work things, and since you were his assistant; you had to stay as well, so what better way to relieve stress than this. It had started a few months after you started working for him, and now, one year into this job it was still going on strong. He was a very successful man, very rich, and very attractive.

His hands moved slowly up your sides, stopping briefly at your waistband. "Good girl," he murmured, giving your cheek a soft kiss before continuing on. "Just relax, love. Let me take care of you tonight."

Your chest started rising and falling deeply, continuing to focus on his hands that smoothed over your body. You felt the heat in your core burn more rapidly, more hotter. It was making you go insane, you couldnt keep yourself calm as you felt his fingers ghost over the waistband of your black skirt.

A low chuckle escaped his lips as he heard your breathing become heavier. "Such an obedient little pet aren't we?" He teased, slowly letting his fingers move underneath the waistband and go further down."Tell me how much you want this, baby..."

Your thighs couldn't help but close, his teasing touches too much for you to handle, but he didn't like that and used his free hand to push your thighs apart—squeezing on the flesh as a warning to keep them open.

The sound of his voice sent shivers through your spine, causing goosebumps to form. "Keep those legs spread wide for me, darling" He said huskily, moving his other arm around your front and pulled you closer to his chest, pinning you against his chest as the hand that was inside your skirt finally met your panties. “You didn't answer my question.”

Your eyes snapped open and you dropped your head down to look at where his hand was hidden; “So bad,” Your murmured, squirming on his lap a little when his fingers started ghosting over your clit, “I want it.”

His grin widened."Good girl." He whispered softly into your ear, continuing to tease you by rubbing circles around your clit. "Now tell me what you need, love..tell me how badly you want this...how badly..."

Your hair fell down your shoulders in waves, hiding your face from him and you closed your eyes again to relinquish the pleasurable feeling he was giving you. “I need you to...” You gasped softly when he pushed his hand into your panties and used his other hand to push your legs further apart. “Touch me like that.”

A low hum rumbled out of his throat as he felt your body tense up beneath him. "Hmm? Tell me more, baby." He teased, sliding two fingers between your folds and pressing gently against your entrance. "Tell me what else you need."

You nodded slowly, your lips parting as you drew in shallow breaths. “I need you to fuck me...” Your hand went to grab his clothed wrist, making sure his own hand stayed there inside your panties and not anywhere else; “Hard.”

A smirk spread across his lips as he heard those words leave your mouth. "Hard?" He asked teasingly, pushing another finger inside you while still using his thumb to rub against your sensitive spot. "You want me to fuck you so hard?" He pushed your hair out of your face and pulled your head back so it was resting by his; and he whispered the next words into your ear; “and rough, baby?”

Your eyes clenched shut when you felt two of his fingers sink into your entrance; “Please.” You whimpered, your hips shifted around and you were slowly moving against his lap—against his cock that was hard and ready for you.

His breath hitched slightly as he saw how eager you were becoming. "So needy..." He groaned quietly, leaning forward to kiss your neck and shoulder before whispering again. "...So perfect for me aren't you, my perfect girl, hmm?”

You nodded again, unable to form words as his fingers continued to relentlessly pleasure you—over and over again and he just wasn't stopping. You breath caught in your throat and your grip on his wrist tightened as you felt the knot in your belly tighten, you felt him kiss his way up your neck, knowing you were about to cum all over his fingers— he proceeded to make them move faster and harder.

As soon as you started moaning loudly, he knew what was coming next. "Sweet girl gonna cum?" He chuckled softly, biting down gently on your collarbone before pulling away from you. “Cum for me,” He whispered into your ear, and just like that on command, you felt the flood gates open and the rope fully snap.

Your entire body tensed as you climaxed, and his arm tightened around your body, keeping you pinned close to him as to make sure you didn't wriggle away to get away from the intense pleasure. “Harry!” You smacked your hand down onto his neck, holding it to keep his face close to yours.

He smirked widely, kissing your lips passionately once more. "Good girl." he said smugly, squeezing your side as he held you tight against himself. His other hand ran through your hair affectionately, stroking it lightly while still pinning you to him, “come here.”

You turned your face to his and immediately, he closed his mouth over yours without any warning—like he was desperate for that kind of closeness. You moaned softly against his lips and he began to move his hands up your sides, smoothing up over your shirt and suddenly ripped it open, the buttons flew off and you gasped; his tongue entering your mouth. His hands went under the shirt and moved over your skin, cupping your breasts that we're covered by your lace bra.

His fingers traced along the lace over your bra and pulled it down, your breast spilled out and he immediately cupped it. "Mmm...” He moaned against your lips darkly at the feeling of your breast against his hand. He pulled away from the kiss; his eyes so dark and filled with lust it made you want to hide away, “Bend over the desk.”

You wasted no time in climbing off his lap and finding home bent over his desk. He followed suit and stood up, instantly pressing his crotch to your ass, grinding harshly to relieve the hardness in his pants. You heard his belt clink and clank as he undone it, quickly moving onto unzipping his belt and pushed his pants down.

He grabbed hold of your hips tightly and pressed himself against you roughly, groaning. "S’lovely..." He said lowly, looking at you with an intense look in his eye. His hands were shaking slightly as they gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart. He watched the way his cock moved against your soft thighs; though he was an impatient man and then pulled your panties down to your knees.

You could only lay there and take it as he pushed his tip into your soaking-wet entrance. He pushed your legs further apart. And you momentarily stopped breathing as you focused on feeling him enter you fully. “Fuck...” You whispered, letting your cheek drop against the cold desk and closed your eyes.

His breath hitched when he felt how tight you were around him, gripping his shaft like a vice. "God fuck." He cursed under his breath, pushing deeper inside of you until he hit bottom. Your walls squeezed him painfully, making him grit his teeth. You felt so good—so fucking good every single time. He could never get enough of your sweet little pussy.

Your mouth opened further when you felt him bottom out. He was all the way inside of you, and he was so thick... it quite literally took your breath away every time you fucked. You couldn't see straight when you felt him pull out halfway and then push back in, this time pressing deeper and deeper, making you whine out and spread your arm out above you to grab the edge of the desk as some sort of anchor.

He groaned loudly, burying his hand into your hair as he began thrusting harder and faster now, slamming himself deep within you each time."Fucking hell..." His voice came out strained and low, sounding almost animalistic. "So fucking good... So goddamn perfect..."

You were crying out everytime he slammed into you. You couldn't move underneath him, couldn't utter a single word expect mewl out an unintelligible noise with every thrust he did into you. You could feel him all over you—gripping your hips for better leverage every now and then, in your hair when he felt like hearing your noises louder, on your neck...

His breathing grew heavier and more ragged as well, sweat dripping down onto your thighs below him. He leaned forward slightly, moving one hand firmly on your neck and the other snaked down to your wet pussy while continuing to pound away at you relentlessly. "Fuck... Fuck... Oh god..."

His fingers began to circle over your clit; intensifying the harsh pleasure you were already feeling and you were so close to cumming. You wanted to cum so bad, you needed it—the pleasure was too much for you, but oh god did it feel amazing. “Harry, I'm gonna...”

He growled deeply, pressing himself closer to you as he kept going at full speed. "Cum for me baby." He said harshly, biting down on your shoulder gently before pulling back again. "I want to hear you cum." He kissed your shoulder and began to rub his fingers faster of your clit.

You tensed around him again, you walls clenched his cock as it drove deeply inside of you over and over again at a rapid, hard pace; that mixed with the way his finger were circling over the bundle of nerves made you reach the peak point and you felt your hard climax drown you. You smacked your hand down onto the desk, gripping the edge hard as you screamed.

The sound of your orgasm echoed throughout the room, causing him to groan loudly. "Oh fuck!" He slammed into you harder than ever before, driving deep within you once more before shooting hot ropes of semen inside of you.

You were a mess as he rode out your orgasms, continuing to thrust into you to make sure all of his cum was deep inside of you. He kissed your shoulder and bit down to stifle his hot moans.

His breathing became heavy after coming so hard. " Fuck.” He muttered quietly, leaning forward to kiss your neck softly. "Such a good girl.”

[chocfrog-enjoyer]

Romione all the way!

[finelinevogue]

starry eyes

summary - harry’s the captain of the ice-hockey team and there’s a house party to celebrate their win

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, alcohol anxiety, house party, lots of kissing

word count: +3.2k

pairing: ice-hockey boyfriend!harry x college!reader

You arrived to the party late.

It was kind of your thing though, turning up late. If it weren’t for your boyfriend, Harry, you’d turn up to events weeks late or even weeks in advance. He was your personal calendar reminder, but unfortunately he had drunk too much beer to remind you what time the party was starting.

It had been the last game of the ice-hockey season and Harry, the captain, had brought it home with the final goal. He had scored and won for the entire team, which is why the whole school was now celebrating in his frat house.

Being the captain’s girlfriend, you had an obligation to be there but you’d take the opportunity to get drunk with Harry any day. Feeling euphoric with him was another planet of love.

“You ready to get fucked tonight?” Kora asked, laughing after coming out of the bathroom with a small bag of white powder.

“You ready to get fucked tonight?” Kora asked, laughing after coming out of the bathroom with a small bag of white powder.

“You already are fucked, babe.” You laughed, standing in front of your full length mirror and adjusting your dress. Harry had always told you that you could arrive to his parties in joggers and you’d still be the prettiest girl there, but you wanted to put a little more effort into yourself tonight.

Your black dress hugged your body perfectly and you actually felt really hot. Your tights were really sheer and had darker black hearts running up and down the length of them, your ankles and feet covered by your Docs. Your outfit didn’t show much colour so you added one of Harry’s red checkered flannels over your dress. Leaning into the mirror you rubbed your fingers under your eyes to smear away the mascara that had fallen.

“And you’re going to get fucked, our darling Y/N, by your champion of a boyfriend.” Sloane wolf whistled at you as you checked yourself out.

You blushed thinking about Harry’s reaction to your outfit and just getting to see you in general. You hadn’t managed to see him since the game and so you were eager to see him and kiss him for all he was worth.

“We ready ladies?” Bertie asked, picking up his phone and holding it out to take a group picture before you all left.

It turned out to be a video of you all being excited to party that Bertie added to his story, which you only knew because Harry texted you almost instantly after it was uploaded.

H🫂: juust saw berts story. get here quick but get here safe. i need to kisss youuuuu xxxx

He made you giggle with his text and everyone teased about how your relationship was still in the honeymoon phase 2 years after you’d got together.

It wasn’t a long walk over to Harry’s house, but it took you longer because you were all drunk walking and Kora needed to wee behind a rose bush.

The frat house was so busy to the point people were queueing up outside just to get in. The people outside the front door had created a party outside just to keep them drunk before they got inside, afraid to be sober upon entry. All of the ice-hockey team and their significant others would already be inside, since they all had first priority access. That’s the only reason you walked to the front of the queue, because you knew the bouncer and he’d let you in instantly.

“Suckers!” Kora shouted at all the young teenagers that were here to get a glimpse of their ice-hockey team players rather than actually get drunk.

The bouncer let you inside easily, along with your trail of friends. Each of you were just as drunk as the other, but maybe Kora was a different kind of drunk to the rest of you.

Once you were inside you were greeted with a chorus of hellos, since you were quite well known thanks to Harry. That and the fact you were known for being the kindest person on campus. You were always there to help others and never cared who someone was or where they came from. You were a good person and that’s why people trusted you enough to be friends with.

After hugging a few people, you made your way to the kitchen to take a few more shots.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see where Mitch was calling your name. You smiled and waved him over. Mitch was Harry’s best friend and regular weed supplier. Some nights you and Harry would drive to the beach and escape college life for a night, whilst sharing a blunt or two. It wasn’t something you and Harry did regularly, but it was nice to feel a different kind of high for the night.

“Mitch, hey bud!” You raised your shot glass up to him and then knocked it back with a sour face. “Congrats on the win!”’

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him slightly, not hugging him too tightly because you reserved the best hugs for Harry only.

“Thank you, yeah.”

He pulled his blunt out of his mouth and passed it over to you. You held it between your fingers and took a heavy drag of it, letting it burn the back of your throat before blowing the air back out. When you’d puffed it back out, you handed it back over to Mitch thanking him.

You normally would’ve taken more of a hit from Mitch’s stash, but you weren’t really keen on getting high tonight, Getting drunk was enough. Plus you’d rather get high off Harry.

“Y’seen H?” You asked.

“Saw him about.. twenty minutes ago.”

You nodded and stood next to him as you watched the rest of the room become electric. The music was playing some house party playlist off Spotify, you could tell. There was a group of people dancing with each other, another group playing beer pong and then just people dotted everywhere talking, shouting, to each other in conversation.

Many of the team players were hooking up with their respective girlfriends and boyfriends, only making you crave Harry that much more.

You kept bringing your bottle of red up to your lips to swing as you watched the room like it was a movie on a TV screen, laughing when you saw other people laugh.

Bertie came into the room with his boyfriend in towe, Alex, who was also on the ice-hockey team. Both of them served themselves drinks whilst talking to you.

“Hey, Alex, have you seen Harry?” You asked yet another team member of Harry’s.

“Um, not for a while, no. Sorry.” He shrugged and wrapped an arm around Bertie’s waist.

You smiled softly, but inside your heart was breaking over not finding Harry sooner. You were getting anxious to see him now and the alcohol was going to cause tears if you weren’t careful.

“Hey, Mitch?” You poked the guy next to you, who was passing his secret stash onto Bertie and Alex.

“Hm?” He leaned down so he could hear you better.

“I’m going to go try and find Harry.” You pointed to the exit of the room and Mitch nodded in understanding. He got out his phone and texted Harry that you were looking for him as well. He was a good friend.

Mitch made you check your phone just in case Harry had sent you a message, but your phone had no service since there was so many people in the building. You sighed and tucked your phone back into the flannel shirt pocket, with shaky hands. That was your first sign a breakdown was on its way if you didn’t find Harry soon.

You could handle your alcohol quite well normally, but only because you drank within your limits if Harry wasn’t with you. If Harry was with you, you didn’t mind drinking a bit excessively because you knew you had him to take care of you and be the emotional support blanket required if the alcohol turned into a breakdown. So, the fact you hadn’t found Harry yet and you’d definitely exceeded your alcohol limits made you very anxious and very aware of how tipsy you were.

You were glad you wore your Docs.

The amount of people that were crammed into the house was impossible, making it very difficult for you to see anyone beyond two people. People kept on tapping your shoulder and expecting a conversation out of you, but you had to politely decline because you only wanted to find Harry for now. You weren’t focused on anything other than finding Harry.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, please. Sorry.” You repeated over and over again as you tried to push through the crowds of people.

Thirty minutes later and you were entering a new room, this one even more crowded than the last. It was very loud in here too, or maybe it was because you were sobering up after looking for Harry for so long. You were simply going round and round in circles, but nobody seemed to know where he was.

Your heart was pounding what felt like outside of your chest from the anxiety the alcohol was giving you. You pulled the flannel around you and the collar up to your nose momentarily, breathing in Harry’s cologne just to feel like he was somewhat close to you. You continued through the crowd, getting pushed back by random people and your feet getting trodden on by dancing feet.

“Y/N!” Harry’s voice shouted over the crowd so loud you were worried that he would shatter his voice.

“Harry?” You questioned quietly to yourself, spinning in circles trying to find the source of his voice.

“Y/N!” His voice shouted louder and your eyes teared up after thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you, after wanting him so desperately.

Then you saw him push a drunk guy out of his way to reach him. He smiled brightly when he saw you and you pushed through some more people to reach him, your brows furrowed in determination to reach him.

Your heart slowly healed itself as you got closer to him, feeling more and more comfortable and safe by the second.

When you finally met him, you went straight in for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his waist and you squeezed tight, swaying slightly as you held him close. The moment felt infinite and you wished it could’ve been as he wrapped his own arms around you, picking you off the ground slightly and onto your tiptoes. You laughed as he spun you in a little circle, holding on tight to you.

You laughed and loosened your hold on him to finally look at him. Both of you kept ahold of each other as you looked at each other, hazy eyes burning into one another’s.

“You look so beautiful.” Harry said softly and even though the room was booming with loud music, you could make out every word he said perfectly.

“You won.” You congratulated him on his game win and he nodded his head lightly.

“I was looking everywhere for you.” He said. “Been going round in circles for an hour looking for you.”

“Me too.” You laughed, cupping his cheeks in the palm of your hands. His cheeks were warm from the flush of pink that was drawn out by the beers he’d drunk.

“I thought you might’ve just been late, but then Mitch said he’d just talked to you and that he hadn’t smoked enough to hallucinate yet.”

You dipped your head and rested your forehead on Harry’s firm chest, right over where his heart was beating rapidly with the anxiety of finding you. Turns out you had both been as desperate as the other to find each other. Your arms dipped too, snaking around his neck and hugging him close again. Harry’s arms relaxed on your middle, underneath his flannel shirt.

Someone then bumped into the back of you and you turned around to see who it was, but Harry had already cupped the back of your head to keep it safe from any more bumps, whilst shouting, “Hey, watch where you’re going will you?”

He was known for being too kind to actually start a fight, but people did know not to mess around with you otherwise there would be an issue. Luckily the guy apologised to you both and everything was fine.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning over so you could hear him.

You nodded against his chest and brought your head out from hiding. His eyes were as bright as the stars that hung in the night sky and all because you made him feel that way.

“Can we go?” You nodded your head in the direction of the door, wanting to escape this sweaty room with all the drunk dancing people.

“‘Course.”

Harry took a tight hold on your hand and walked through the sea of people towards the door. Every time you lagged a little behind him, due to someone dancing a little too hard, he would wait patiently for you to squeeze through whilst still holding your hand tight.

You were half-way to exiting, when he stopped right in front of you and pushed you a little ahead of him. Both of you were still holding onto one another's hand, but this time you were leading.

“Can see whether you’re alright this way.” Harry had explained the reasoning to you.

You continued to move through the crowd and look back at Harry for reassurance every now and then, but before you could count to ten you were out of the room and could breathe again.

Harry quickly tugged on your hand and pulled around the bannister and up the stairs, making you shuffle along behind him. People were passing by and trying to stop Harry for a chat or a photo, but he kept on walking past with a smile with his only focus on you in his hand.

You knew he was taking you to the hideout upstairs.

The hideout was a small room at the top of the house, in the attic, that was filled with a pool table and video games on one side of the room and then the other was equipped with beanbags and blankets. It was yours and Harry’s favourite place to come to if you both wanted each other alone for a while, since no one ever bothered to come up here during a party. It was made even safer by the fact it had a pin-code to even get into the room.

Once you were both in the attic, alone, Harry walked you over to the beanbags in the furthest corner and flopped himself down backwards, making a dramatic sigh as he did so. You watched him with a smile as you did so, trying to cover it up when you noticed him looking at you with starry eyes again.

“Well, c’mere then.” Harry tugged on your hand to make you fall down next to him, but not hard enough to actually make you move.

“Actually.. I think I’m going to…”

You pretended to walk away but Harry was quick to sit up and pull you back to him, stronger this time so you did fall onto him. You laughed on your way down, cautious of where your knees landed in case you hurt Harry.

“No. You’re staying here, with me.” Harry wrapped his arms around your waist and held you against his body. Laying flat on top of Harry you felt safer than ever and were glad you went through those moments alone to get to this one.

You hummed peacefully as you snuggled your face into his neck, breathing the same cologne that had been on his flannel shirt - only this time it was stronger.

One of Harry’s hands pulled your dress back down your bum so if anyone walked in they wouldn’t get a free show. It was little gestures like that which made you so aware that you’d chosen the right guy to fall in love with. It was a gesture so small that people might even miss it, or call it insignificant, but to you it only made your heart grow for him more.

“Missed you today.” You said, your voice slightly muffled from being so pressed up against Harry’s body.

“Yeah? I missed you too.” Harry’s hand had now slid underneath the flannel shirt and was rubbing up and down over your back, a feeling so comforting you could call it home.

“You always get too busy on game days and I don’t get to kiss you enough. It’s unfair.”

“It is unfair, baby. I agree. I’m free to kiss you now though.”

“I know. I’m choosing to cuddle with you instead, in case you’re needed again tonight and you can’t sleep over at mine.” You lightly admitted to not being able to sleep without him by your side.

“Screw whoever needs me. I’m sleeping at yours tonight and we’re sleeping good.” His arms tightened around you protectively, afraid someone would ruin the moment.

“But maybe we can kiss a bit too?”

“Never going to say no to you, baby.”

You moved your head out of his neck and hovered it above his. You felt his hands move out from underneath the flannel and up to cup the back of your head gently. One of your hands stayed by your side and the other came up to cup his cheek again.

Both of you gazed your eyes over each other, sometimes dipping down to see your lips. Harry then pushed your head forwards with his hand and sealed your lips with you. He tasted exactly the remnants of the party downstairs, with a lovely mix of beer and whatever else he had been drinking.

You moaned when his lips pushed a little deeper, making your head follow his in an effort to not part your lips. Harry pried your mouth open with his tongue and made short work of tasting you all over, noting the taste of weed on your tongue. He tasted cherry sours too and it only made him crave more of you.

“I… love.. You… So much.” Harry said in between kisses, not wasting a single second more to tell you. You always knew it, but it was always a bright moment to hear it again and again.

You hummed in agreement, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He turned his body so yours fell off his and back onto the beanbag carefully. His body then hovered over yours, the weight of his chest pressing against yours and grounding you to him. You’d never felt so safe and loved.

You tried lifting your head to kiss him again, but his lips weren’t puckered ready for yours.

“No. Say it first.”

“I love you.” You told him and he could tell by the glint in your eyes that you honestly meant it.

“Don’t ever stop telling me.” Harry made you promise by linking his pinky finger with yours and then you both kissing each others pink fingers.

“Well, then don’t ever stop loving me.” You counter offered and Harry was quick to kiss your pinky finger all over for that promise.

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present

Chapter 2

Word count: 5,075

Warnings: Violence, gun, blood, nightmare, slight panic attack.

Author's note: Thank you for the love on Chapter one! Feedback is appreciated:) Here's the link if you've not read it: Chapter One

There was no way y/n could follow Harry around all day, he was a busy doctor. He had patients to tend to. For the time being, she didn't have a better idea except to continue meeting him at the bar. 

"Have you always wanted to be a doctor?", she asks the man, clad in a lime green shirt today. He seemed like he was in better spirits than he was the previous night, so y/n took the opportunity. 

"I..don't know.", Harry's eyebrows furrow, like he tried to think, and it hurt him to remember. "I know how to treat people."

"That's nice.", y/n nods. "It must be a big responsibility, having lives of people in your hands."

"I think I'm used to it.", he replies shortly. "Why are you so interested?", he looks up at her.

"Just like that.", she shrugs. "Can I not make friends? I'm new to this town."

"Why did you come here?", he asks.

"Less expenses than in the city.", y/n sighs, looking around at the bar. Girls swinging their hips on the dance floors, guys looking at them like they were a piece of meat, and lots of loud music blasting. This wasn't her scene at all.

"You don't like getting drinks.", Harry tells her, more like a statement than a question. He was observing her too.

"I don't mind the drinks, it's the whole scene I don't like. I prefer spending my free nights in my bed, with ice cream and a good novel."

Harry cracked what looked like a small smile, one of the dimples on his cheek popping, which made y/n feel warm. She cursed herself for feeling like that, before continuing with the talk. "You said you want to make friends. I'm not the right guy, y/n.", Harry says.

"Why? You're ice cold, mean and friendless? What a sad lifestyle you must lead, Doctor."

He chuckles, popping some of the fried peanuts into his mouth. "I'm not cold and mean."

"So you are friendless.", y/n concludes.

"What's the point? I don't have time for friends.", he says.

"But you need friends in your life, Harry. Friends support you through hard times, you can be yourself with them, and you can have lots of fun!"

"Friends also betray you.", he grumbles.

"Have you been betrayed be a friend or a close one?", y/n asks, trying to know if there were people he thought plotting against him and Reagen in the past.

"I don't remember.", he snaps, motioning for the bartender to fill up his drink. y/n waits for him to calm down, watching him tip the entire glass down his throat and groan. 

"Whiskey's your choice of poison?", she asks, flinching. She doesn't like the burn of whiskey.

"Yes, but it's too much for someone like you. You should try something sweeter, like rum.", he says. "Old Monk rum for the lady please.", he tells the bartender.

"What do you mean by someone like you?", she raises her eyebrows at him.

"You know what I mean.", he simply says. y/n decided to come back to the topic of friends. "Do you have a best friend?"

Harry freezes again, and y/n observes the look in his eyes like he was trying to remember a painful memory. Oliver had told her that Harry was his best friend. He needed his best friend back, and she heard the suffering in his voice when he told her that. "N-No..no, I don't think so, I don't know. I have memory issues, I don't remember a lot of stuff."

y/n nods. "That's okay. Well, I can be your best friend. I mean, I can start by being your friend and then we can see how it goes."

Harry smirks. "You really want to be my friend, don't you?"

"Be grateful I'm taking pity on you, Mr. Friendless mysterious guy.", y/n replies, and Harry laughs. y/n smiles. So he does remember how to laugh.

The bartender keeps her drink in front of her. "I've never tried this before.", y/n says, looking at the dark, sweet smelling liquid.

"You'll like it.", Harry says confidently. "Trust your new friend's drink choosing ability."

y/n grins and tries it. The liquid drink went down smooth, leaving her mouth refreshing and quenching for more. It had almost a dehydrated berry taste to it, which she really loved. She also felt the slight warmth of the alcohol.

"I do like it.", she decides, taking another sip. "How did you know?"

"Just like that.", he shrugs, imitating her from their conversation earlier, and she smiled, liking him more as she got to know him a little. "Oh and by the way you agreed to us being friends.", she adds, in case he let it slip by accident.

"Just friends, y/n?", he gets up after stuffing some cash inside the book the bill came in. y/n sits there thinking about what he said, and he gives her a small wave. "I'm gonna get to bed, see you around."

Harry leaves the bar, leaving y/n pondering. Did he want something more than friendship with her? She couldn't deny that she wasn't attracted to the man, but she couldn't take advantage of him like that. She was already feeling bad for befriending him for someone else. She was only using him and he didn't know that. She decided that she wouldn't let her feelings grow. Yes, he was handsome, and it was natural to get attracted, but she wasn't going to let anything else happen between them. 

______________________________________________________

The painting was gorgeous. It as crafted with such bright tones, and beautiful color bleding. y/n had poured all of her emotion into it. It was piece she didn't look at very often. She didn't keep it for sale either. It was personal. 

The woman in the painting was made of a mix of colors. Her eyes were standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her oval face.

"This is beautiful.", Harry speaks. "You paint more of landscapes, who is this woman?"

y/n sucks in a breath, approaching a sensitive topic. "I don't know..I think it's my mom. I remember how she looked like..but my Uncle Luke said my parents left me when I was little."

Harry tears his eyes away from the painting, looking at her. "I'm sorry. You haven't tried to contact them?"

y/n shakes her head. "I've thought about it, but I don't know if I can take whatever the truth is. And I'm happy with my Uncle."

Harry nods, looking at the other paintings. "Can I buy it?"

"Sure, which one?"

"All of it?"

"All of it!?"

"I have a new flat, it's empty.", Harry says flatly, like it was obvious. "This would look nice on the walls."

"But all of them is going to look like an art gallery and less of a flat, Harry. Um let's select a few out, okay?", y/n says, and Harry nods. "I'll have to see what your flat looks like, to know what matches."

y/n wanted to see if she can get her hands on any pictures, any files, or anything that can point out to his past life.

"Fine, let's have tea at my place.", Harry agrees and she smiles, nodding. "See, you're getting the hang of things for someone who hasn't had friends before."

Harry only gave the girl a small smile, continuing to look around her studio. 

Harry's flat was huge. Two bedrooms, a big kitchen with a patio, a beautiful balcony overlooking the small town. It was neutral themed, the colors brown and cream. Harry makes them tea, and brings out some cookies as they sit on the couch. 

"For looks like yours, you had to have been in love at least once.", Stella says, and Harry keeps his cup of tea down. "Maybe. Don't remember. Are you saying I'm handsome?"

y/n bites her lip as Harry smirks. "I didn't say that. You may be good looking, that's all."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"She must have been lucky, whoever the girl was.", y/n tries to get it out of him. Come on, please remember something so I know you really are the person Romania told me about. 

Harry sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead like he had a headache. "I-I..I don't believe in it."

"Believe in love?", y/n asks, and he nods, bringing his hand back and looking at her with those beautiful eyes. "Do you believe in love y/n?"

y/n nods. "Of course. Love is like this overwhelming sentiment that keeps you up all night and makes you feel like a little child waiting for Christmas day. The feeling of having a soulmate and a place you can really call home, that sounds promising."

Harry's eyes ran over soft features, as he spoke, "You sound like you have been in love."

y/n laughs, biting into a cookie. "Nah, me? I talk too much, and I'm weird. Who would want to love me?"

"There might be someone.", Harry whispers softly, but not soft enough so y/n couldn't hear it.

__________________________________________

"I'm not sure if he is the man you're looking for.", y/n tells Romania on the phone. "He doesn't remember anything about his past, and he's such a sweet guy! He's a doctor who saves lives for god sake, he's not your mafia boss!"

"He's had you fooled by his charm, Miss y/l/n.", Romania huffs. "The reason he remained our secret weapon was because of how easily he could blend in. Do not fall for his charm, it's all an act."

"I think he really doesn't remember, Romania.", y/n twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, worried about what she has to do.

"He does, y/n. I have to believe he does, for his own good.", Romania sighs. "Or we have to kill him."

y/n's hand freezes over the phone. "K-Kill him?"

"Yes, he's a threat to our opponents. He knows too much. If they get to him first..", Romania drawls off. "You won't understand, y/n, just know that he is very important. You are our last hope. If you cannot prove that he remembers, then we will kill him. At least he'll get to be with Reagen then."

"Y-You can't kill him.", y/n whispers, her heart beating fast. What did she agree to? She made a deal with people capable of killing a poor man?

"Then do your job, y/n. I'm sending another fifty thousand to your account. Update me soon." Romania hung up with that, and y/n sat down heavily, hand on her forehead. She has to find a way to break into his shell. She doesn't want to be responsible for the death of a man.

__________________________________________________________

Broken windows. Blood covering the pieces of glass. Someone held a gun to her forehead, the face unclear. The wind was strong, piercing her skin. Then she heard the trigger being pulled and a shot being fired.

y/n wakes up with a gasp, her body sweating under the linen sheets. She closes her eyes, pressing a hand to her heart in relief. It was just a dream. The same dream she keeps having. Uncle Luke had told her to stop watching and reading mystery. This was the consequence.

Her thoughts went to Harry as she pours herself some water. She wasn't even supposed to ask questions to Romania. There were so many questions she had. About his line of work, about his family, about why the opponents had stayed away from him so far, and most importantly, about Reagen. How did they meet? How was their relationship? Were they going to get married?

So many questions she couldn't have the answers to.

The next morning, her Uncle Luke wanted to go on a walk, so she went with him. "Boy troubles.", Uncle Luke observes. "Who is it?"

"It's no one.", y/n dismisses it, feet trudging over the fallen autumn leaves. She didn't like the town, but she couldn't help but admit it was pretty. Full of trees.

"Really?", Uncle Luke teases and she sighs, giving up. "It's just Harry."

"Who's Harry?"

Her uncle had forgotten all about her side job, and the mysterious guy she was spying on. y/n cooked up a story about a customer named Harry to make Uncle Luke happy. She would do anything for him.

She fixed up some breakfast for him before rushing to the cafe. She was running a little late. She got to her painting. Then sat at a table, eating a lovely sugary custard pastry and drinking her ice lemon mint tea while she had a break.

"Do you always eat so much sugar?"

She looked up surprised to see Harry. "It's not good for your health.", he says, before sitting down across from her. "After you shove the sugary cereal down your throat for breakfast, you have this as your everyday snack?"

"Woah, don't go Doctor mode on me.", y/n laughs, continuing to enjoy her pastry. "But it's so good, and this is the only time I'm relaxing, so let me have my pastry, okay?"

"Suit yourself.", Harry eyes it with disgust. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at the hospital?", y/n asks him.

"It's my day off.", he answers, eyes moving to her lips as he watched her tongue peek out to clean up the little bits of custard. "Thought to spend it with my friend."

"Ahh.", y/n smiles. "How do you wanna spend it then?"

"Someone once told me it's fun to have ice cream and watch a movie. Show me how it's fun."

"Is that a challenge?", y/n grins, quickly downing the rest of her drink. 

"Sure.", Harry gives her a signature smirk, before he leaned forward to bring his hand up to her face. His hand rests on her cheek as his thumb gently rubs away a bit of custard on the side of her mouth. y/n felt goosebumps on her skin as he touched her, and their eyes meet. y/n gets lost in the depth of Harry's eyes. She saw something she hadn't seen before. 

Pain.

Harry quickly pulled away and y/n grabbed a tissue. "Give me a minute.", she told him, and he nodded, waiting for her. y/n had done her paintings for the day, and she signed out of the cafe. 

They went to the grocery store to pick up some goods, all while talking happily like friends. Harry was lowering the guard he had up, and although that made y/n happy, it made her guilty at the same time. He thought she was his friend. He was trusting her. 

And what was she doing? 

She was using his friendship to get out some information that she doesn't care about, out of him so she can get the rest of her money from the deal and lead her life.

A man lurking behind them caught y/n's attention in the grocery store. She ushered them to the next aisle, and she saw another man at the end of it. Both of them were looking at Harry like he was their worst enemy.

y/n remembered what Romania had told her about their opponents. 

"Harry, let's get out of here.", y/n keeps her hand on his arm, feeling the urge to protect him. He did not deserve this. He didn't even know who he is. 

"Wait, we didn't get the kind of noodles you like-"

"-This will do." y/n puts one of the instant ramen packets into their trolley, staring back at the men hoping they'll back off. "Come on."

Harry follows her with the trolley, oblivious to the men watching him. He offered to pay, and y/n quickly gets them back into her car. 

"Why were you rushing?", Harry asks.

"I um..I have to pee!"

"There was a restroom inside.", Harry points out.

"Yes I'm scared of urinary tract infections, yeast infections especially, they're so nasty, have you seen the pictures? I'm scared of using public toilets.", she lies, and rambles on.

Harry looked at her for a second, before doubling over and laughing. y/n smiled sheepishly, adoration filling her as she watched him laugh. That laugh did things to her. 

"Well okay let's go then, you have to pee!", he says, and they both laugh as y/n pulls out of the parking lot, missing the two men staring at them from a distance.

_____________________________________

y/n watches Harry as he immerses in the movie, watching it with interest. They had obviously decided on a crime thriller. She had seen before, and she was more interested in studying the tall man beside her, lounging in his sweatpants, curled up on his couch. 

"You're right, I should do this more often.", Harry mumbles, leaning back and stealing a glance at y/n. "You sleepy?"

y/n was a little sleepy with the lack of sleep last night, but she shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "Not at all!"

A mountain of blankets and half eaten snacks rested on the coffee table in front of them, and she knew she probably wouldn't make it through the whole movie but she had to. 

"Did you go to a doctor about your memory issues?", y/n decides to bite, and Harry heard her, but he still asks, "Sorry?"

"You have memory issues, you can't remember a lot of things. Have you seen a doctor about that?"

Harry pauses the movie. "No. It won't help."

"Why not?"

"I've tried taking medicine, it won't come back. I lost those memories for a reason y/n, I don't want to bring them back. Just like how you don't want to reach out to your parents.", Harry answers, jaw clenching. "I have a good life here. I'm happy."

"Are you though?", y/n leans forward to him. "Are you really happy, Harry?"

Harry remained quiet, studying her face. "It doesn't matter."

"It does! I wish to see you happy. If we can get your past behind you, maybe you can-"

"-I'm already behind it. I don't know what happened in the past, and I don't care. Can we just watch the movie?"

y/n sighed in defeat, but nodded, curling back on the other side of the couch as Harry presses play on the movie. How the hell was she going to get him to remember who he was?

y/n can't fight of the sleep for too long. Harry sees her dozing off, and a fond smile coats his lips as he looks at her. He wanted to carry her to bed, where she could sleep more comfortably but he figured he wouldn't without her permission. Instead, he went to his room to get his blanket and tucked it around her small frame. 

He hated anyone in his personal space, but this was y/n. He could make an exception. Hell, he had already invited her into his house.

y/n mumbles incoherently in her sleep, and Harry coots closer to her, keeping a hand on her arm, in case she was having a bad dream, and continued to watch the movie.

y/n saw the same dream again. Blood. Broken window. Glass. Gun. 

Harry frowned as her serene, peaceful face split into a disturbed one. Her eyebrows scrunching, and her legs tucking underneath her chin. She began to shake lightly.

"y/n.", Harry shakes her awake gently.

y/n runs in her dream, away from the gun, but the shot is still fired from the gun. Before she could see who was injured, she jolts awake.

Her scared eyes meet Harry's. "Hey, it's okay, you're in my flat, we were watching a movie and you fell asleep.", Harry strokes some of her hair back from her forehead as she looks at him, like she wanted reassurance that she's safe. 

Harry doesn't hesitate before pulling her into his lap, wrapping his muscular strong arms around her, and tucking her head into his chest. "Shh..it's okay, you're okay. It was just a dream."

He felt a strong emotion to kill anyone or anything that caused y/n to get so scared. He knew it was in her dream, but he hated the thought of y/n being hurt. She was so delicate, so sweet, he had to protect her.

"H-Harry?", y/n whispers into his chest, her arms tightening around his body.

"Yes?", Harry whispers back, continuing to stroke her hair to soothe her. 

"I'm sorry.", she sniffles, and he gets confused. Was she apologizing for having a bad dream? He had a feeling it was for something else. Either way, she was shaken up and his job was to get her to relax and make her feel okay.

"Don't be, sunshine. I got you."

______________________________________________________

y/n felt horrible. She felt like a monster. Here there was a man who comforted her when she was scared, and on the other hand, what was she doing? She was just doing her task. She would eventually throw him to Romania like he was a piece of meat. y/n felt like electricity was coursing through her veins when Harry's hands smoothed over her body and her hair, calming her down. He scooped her into his lap with no effort, and Stella felt safe.

She felt safe like she never had before. She wanted to stay in his arms forever and forget everything else that happened. She wished she'd met this man before all the Romania and money crap. She wanted to call her and tell her she couldn't do it anymore, but she couldn't back away now. Harry is not showing any signs of who he was five years ago. If he really is that person, then y/n needs to bring his memories back. His friends, or a family y/n doesn't know about, they need him. 

She apologized to him, said that she's sorry for hurting him and doing this to him, but he thought she was worrying about her dream scare. If only he knew the truth.

Then there was what he called her. He called her sunshine. It sounded so sweet, and she wishes he calls her that again. y/n could no longer deny it. She had feelings for Harry, and the feelings kept growing. 

One week. It has been seven days since she started her task. She has only three more weeks to get Harry to open up. She has to gain his trust first. Yes, he's letting her into his house, he's getting comfortable around her, but she has to gain his full trust. 

"Here you go, chicken alfredo. You need some real food after all that ice cream.", Harry smiles as he serves the pasta he just made into two plates. 

"I didn't know you could cook.", y/n says impressed as she sits on the chair. 

"How could you? You've never had my food before. Now you know.", Harry answers, sitting beside her with his plate. He watched her as she tastes it. y/n let the creamy pasta satisfy her taste buds, and the flavorful bite of the chicken was amazing.

"It's so good.", she hums. "You're multi talented. Any other hobbies? Secret gamer? Guitarist? Cyber hacking? Gold smuggler?" y/n waits for his response to the last two.

Harry chuckles, eating his own pasta. "Gold smuggler?"

"I don't know, mystery guy. You tell me.", y/n says playfully.

"Not that I know of. But that would be an interesting secret hobby, wouldn't it y/n?", he asks, giving her a look. What was that look? Was it a knowing look? Was he teasing her? Was he hiding?

"I guess, y-yeah.", y/n replies shortly.

If he is hiding, he's doing a very good job of it. He remembers everything, he's putting up an act, a mask. Romania's words lingered in y/n's brain.

"I do play the guitar. How did you know?", he asks, pouring some water into both of their glasses.

"Your fingers are calloused.", y/n states her observation. 

"Observant, I see.", Harry nods impressed. "You ask so much about me. What are your interests besides painting and reading thriller novels?"

y/n laughs. "Watching thriller movies." Harry rolls his eyes, and she grins. "Okay. Um..I don't really know, I don't get time Harry."

"You should explore yourself some more.", he mumbles.

"Oh? Says Mr. Always Busy Doctor."

He shrugs, and y/n looks at her phone as it rings. It was her Uncle Luke.

"Sorry, gotta take this.", she excuses herself, and Harry nods, twirling the pasta around his fork. 

"Uncle Luke?", y/n answers, and hears panting on the other line. "W-Where am I?"

She keeps her fork down, fear creeping up. "You're at home, Uncle Luke, everything okay? Did you go out somewhere?"

"y/n..w-where are you?", her uncle's voice came out in a whimper and she stands up immediately. Harry looks at her with a frown. 

"I'm at a friend's house, I'll come over now, okay? Don't worry, you're at home. Look around, what do you see?", she replies calmly, even though she was freaking out.

"S-Stairs..p-pictures on the walls. Of us."

y/n sighs in relief. He is at home. "Yes, it's safe, Uncle Luke. You're at home, okay? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Come soon..sweetheart.", he whispered, and y/n feels her heart break at his small voice. "I will. I love you."

She stuffs her phone into her pocket and looks at Harry. "I'm sorry I have to go, my uncle needs me."

"I'll come with you.", Harry was already putting away their plates.

"No, Harry, it's okay..my place is small and it's a mess and..you don't wanna be there.", y/n says embarrassed.

"y/n, I didn't always have a flat like this. I used to live on the streets for a few months. Then someone who said they know me came and told me that I'm a Doctor. I managed to get my license back, and everything worked out. I know what it's like, okay?" Harry squeezes her shoulder gently.

y/n quickly stored in her brain the information he had shared. Then she felt bad. He told her because he thought she was his friend.

"Okay, come with me.", she agrees. Harry and y/n leave Zach's flat, and it's a twenty minute drive to y/n's place.

"Your uncle..", Harry drawls, waiting for her to complete.

"Alzheimer's.", she answers, and Harry nods understanding. They didn't talk on the way. y/n was worried, and Harry wasn't used to starting conversations.

When she got home, y/n runs to her Uncle who was sitting at the end of the stairs. "D-Did you fall?", she gasps, seeing him clutch his foot like he was in pain.

"Y-Yes.", Uncle Luke nods, arms leaning to pull his niece into a hug. "y/n. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Uncle, shh..", y/n assures, holding him tight and feeling guilty. She had left him alone and he fell. "Y-You didn't fall down all the stairs, did you?"

"No I tripped on the last few.", he answers. "I think my balance is off. I'm okay I think..I just needed to see you."

y/n nods, kissing his cheek. "It's okay, I told you that you can always call me. I'm glad you did." She looks over him to see if he was injured.

"W-Who's this young man?", Uncle Luke looks up at Harry who was silently watching their exchange.

"He's Harry, I told you about him, remember?"

y/n looks back at Harry, who was looking at her uncle with an expression she couldn't read. Uncle Luke nods at him. "Sorry our first meeting is like this."

"I don't mind.", Harry leans down to help him stand up. y/n took one arm and Harry the other, Uncle Luke was brought back on his feet. 

"Does your ankle hurt?", y/n notices as he winces, and he nods. 

"I can take a look.", Harry says. "Let's get him to bed."

They got Uncle Luke back to his room, and y/n makes him drink some water. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and his fingertips ran over Uncle Luke's ankle as he examined it. Harry did his prodding, checked the movement on the ankle, and observed that there was no swelling, but a purplish bruise forming. He did not feel any broken bones.

"It's a small sprain.", he tells them. "You have a crepe bandage, y/n?It should be there in a first aid kit."

"I think so, let me see.", y/n says, and goes to the cupboard near the sink where she keeps basic first aid. 

Uncle Luke stares at Harry, making sure his niece is gone, before spitting out, "What are you doing with y/n?"

"We're friends.", Harry answers patiently, although he did not like the tone Uncle Luke spoke in.

"Don't you dare get close to my niece. I know all about you, Harry Styles.", Uncle Luke uses his full name, and Harry did not even know that that was his full name. He's used to people coming up to him and calling him that, then they threaten him and go away. 

"Do tell me, cause I don't remember.", Harry says, and Uncle Luke grabs his collar with an iron grip. A weak man like him shouldn't be this strong, Harry notes. 

"You think you're smart, don't you? Doctor Turner, huh? We're just waiting for the right time. You killed my family. I will watch you being burned down to the ground, Styles."

"What the hell are you talking about?", Harry exclaims, trying to get his hand off of him. 

"Oh my god. Uncle Luke, stop!", y/n rushes over, and Uncle Luke lets him go, his face full of hatred and anger. "I'm so sorry Harry!", she says to him apologetically.

"It's okay.", Harry tells her, staring at her uncle. "Illness does it."

y/n nods, rubbing her Uncle's arms, calming him down. "I'm here, Uncle. Harry's my friend, it's okay."

He didn't answer, just kept looking at Harry as he wrapped his injured ankle up. "Keep it elevated, ice pack on and off. It should be fine in two days.", he said when he was done, and left the room.

"I'll be right back.", y/n tells her uncle, before running behind Harry.

"Harry!"

Harry pauses near the door. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into him.", y/n grabs his hand to stop him from storming out. Harry nods, a little shaken up with what her uncle had said. You killed my family.

Harry was a Doctor. He saved people, he didn't kill them. He knew her uncle was sick, but the fire in his eyes when he looked at him? He couldn't shake it away.

"He's turning delusional, I'll make an appointment with his doctor for tomorrow.", y/n shakes her head, stressed about what to do. Harry thought she had too much of stress in her life. He could see the dark circles under her eyes due to the lack of sleep. He wanted to ask her about it, but now wasn't the time.

"I-I have to go, y/n", Harry tells her, and y/n nods, standing on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for your help. You're a good man, Harry."

Was he? 

Harry's fingers went to his cheek where she had kissed him as he stepped outside the door. Her touch made him feel less anxious. He hoped it would leave him calm enough to get some sleep tonight. His thoughts shifted to the girl who came into his life just a week ago. She was perfect. He had a chance to make things different from last time. 

After all, she's his to ruin, isn't she?

[yeahimwiththeband]

undefined

with the band chapter 17

i know if i go

warning: italy, standing up for yourself, new year’s eve makeout hookup?

A/N: after izzy runs into harry in sicily, she invites him back to her hostel for a nye party. he makes her an offer she doesn’t expect. previous chapter here

word count: 2.8k

The hostel reminded her of the co-op in Austin: set in a lush garden, it was full of people her age and smelled like lemon zest. Its floor was terracotta and the walls were cracked tile, with leaning, thrifted bookcases lining the courtyard under a walkway. Olivia, Meg, and Izzy just had enough time to shower and throw on the one going out fit scrunched at the bottom of their bags. Izzy brought out her green dress; Meg wore flip flops with shorts and a metallic crop top, and Olivia floated around in a gauzy tulle thing over a t-shirt and shorts.  Izzy couldn’t get the dust of her sneakers—she made them walk back, declining a ride with Harry’s driver, and they had collapsed in a corner of the courtyard, watching the other backpackers mill around. She wondered if Jess was here, in Italy; she tried to push the thought out of her mind. On Insta, Harry and Jess were still very much together—so many strategic little public comments. Some sounded like Ryan, some sounded like authentic Jess and Harry. Izzy shook it off—it was out of her control, and she had made a new life for herself. She was so happy she left LA. 

The hostel’s bar was pouring shots for 3 euro each. It was already around 10 PM; the sky was clear and bright with stars, and the walls of the courtyard were cool against their backs. Through the gateway at the end of the courtyard, Izzy could see through to the patchy garden, with a thick clover lawn dotted with huge peony bushes and mimosa trees, dangling clusters of gold. She felt relaxed. She was wearing what she wanted to wear, with people she could be honest with. She wasn’t trying to fit in at a party where she didn’t belong anymore. Here, she could just be herself. Her heart trembled at the sound of a vespa outside, but it whipped past without stopping. Harry wasn’t here yet. 

Izzy remembered the last special occasion party she went to: that pretentious thing at The Frick with George and all his boujee private school friends, who were trying to warn her about him. Izzy exhaled. She felt so happy, in that moment, that she had left the tour and there was now an entire ocean between her and George.

“Limoncello,” Meg said, placing tiny glasses the size of a thimble in Izzy and Olivia’s hands. The golden mimosa buds were spilling in from the yard on the wind, racing across the floor and blowing into their hair.

“We have a long way to go if this is what we’re drinking all night,” Olivia said.

“We’re celebrating! To Italy and this trip,” Meg said. They all clinked glasses, took a sip, and Izzy instantly smiled: it tasted like Italy felt, like summer, bright and sweet and a little biting, so far. Meg wrinkled her nose: “It’s like drinking sugar.” She returned to the bar, while Olivia leaned back and closed her eyes, listening to the guitarist strumming from the corner, a Swede 18 or 19 who had picked up one of the hostel’s guitars. Izzy tried to focus on him, listening intently. She had to stop checking the doorway for Harry. She had to stop imagining kissing him at midnight. The countdown, the lean in, firecracker sparks and yellow flowers flying around them...

“Now, grappa!” Meg was back already, with three shot glasses. Izzy’s carefully lowered her little goblet of limoncello to her feet.

“What’s grappa?” Olivia asked, peering at the almost-black liquid. A few of the backpackers had started to dance by the bar.

“It’s like wine, but more. You know?” Izzy could hear that Meg was drunk. She also sounded happy. Looking at her friend’s flushed and smiling face, Izzy could only feel relief - she had been such a bad friend on the tour, and felt like she was finally paying Meg back. Izzy flashed on the night Meg packed her bags, the way she sounded when Izzy said she wasn’t going home.

“So…” Olivia started, exchanging a glance with Meg. “I guess Harry should get here pretty soon, right?

“Alla nostra!” Izzy said, grabbing her glass. She threw it all back and then instantly spat it out, narrowly missing.

“Mama mia,” Olivia said. Her eyes were scrunched closed and she pinched her nose. She had only taken a small sip, but it made her sinuses burn.

“Oh my god,” Meg said.

“I’m dying,” Izzy said. Italian swear words she had heard her mom mutter throughout her childhood tumbled out of her mouth: it was like drinking paint.

“You’re not supposed to shot it like that,” said someone pretentious. Izzy felt someone take the glass out of her hand and press a napkin in in its place.

Izzy unscrunched her eyes to see Harry, t shirt on, leather jacket slung over his shoulder, smiling and trying not to.

“Please don’t laugh at me,” Izzy said.

“Never,” Harry replied.

Izzy picked up her Limoncello. Olivia and Meg had disappeared. She and Harry were alone in a corner

“Thanks for coming,” Izzy said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t—that other party,  you won’t be sad to—“

“I’m sure,” Harry said. He checked over his shoulder, a reflex. Izzy looked too—no one here seemed to recognize him. They were safe.

“Doesn’t this place remind you of the co-op?” He asked. “The one in Austin?”

“Yes,” Izzy said. Golden blooms flew around them.

Izzy told Harry more about the house and the garden and he leaned in to listen, rapt, nodding almost constantly. Oh god, what was he actually doing here? After she stalked him?

“You must think I’m stalking you,” Izzy said. She could never keep a filter on around him.

“I thought you’d think that of me,” Harry replied, laughing a bit. “I saw the house—we drove past your house on the way here. You have more claim to this place than I do.”

“You’re just going to cede all this territory?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “I’m clearly on your turf. ‘M not even slightly Italian.”

“I feel bad for you,” Izzy joked. Harry smiled.

Izzy was about to start in on more small talk - she had only started to tell him about her apartment with Olivia back at his house, and she could go through the curricula of her horticulture classes - when Harry cut her off. “Want to dance, Izzy?” Izzy threw back the rest of her limoncello, sugar biting the back of her throat, and followed him through the little doorway at the end of the courtyard outside. You could just hear the guitar from out there.

Harry put his right hand on Izzy’s waist and paused, like the wind was knocked out of him. Izzy put her hand on his shoulder. He seemed to get a grip of himself, she put her other hand in his.

Just then, Izzy heard a familiar song. I got my red dress on tonight, dancing in the dark… They started moving easily, just like they did in the arena the night he first taught Izzy how to dance. So she could go dance with George.

She heard that voice echo in her mind: I love teaching you to dance so you can dance with other men.

“I asked him to play it before I said hello to you,” Harry said sheepishly.

“Harry, what are you actually doing here?” He spun her away from him and then pulled her back closer.

“You were gone when I got back.”

Izzy didn’t know he came back for her. “I texted you. You didn’t return any of my messages.”

“I was—there was a lot going on. A lot of shit. I was trying to protect you,” he offered.

The words just flew out of her: “Thank you for trying to be soft handed with me, but I’m not a kid - you don’t have to hide things from me.”

“I’m sorry I did that,” Harry said.

“I waited for you, for a long time. It felt like forever. You left me there. You left me there in the arena.”

“You left the tour.”

think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky

“I was scared. It wasn’t just Tara. It was you,” Izzy said. The truth.

Harry nodded.

“You and Jess…” Izzy started.

“There’s no me and Jess, Izzy,” Harry said firmly. “It’s all just for the tour. Ryan’s idea.”

“I don’t think it’s fake for her,” Izzy persisted.

“Nothing’s ever happened between us. Nothing.”

“I think she’s in love with you, Harry.”

Just then, Izzy heard a familiar voice gasp. She looked up, to see Meg and Olivia at the hostel’s second floor balcony, looking down at them. Or at least Meg was, until her head whipped around like she had seen a ghost and the two disappeared back into the hostel.

“The deal is that it goes until the summer—that’s how I got them off the tour for a few months at least, that was the trade I made with Ryan.”

“I didn’t know that. That does sound like something he would insist on, he’s so obsessed with social.”

“And I’m sorry about those stupid fucking photos. I was—I interfered, and—“

“No, you were right. You were right. You knew George, and it would have been better for me to be off the tour than with him. I wish you would have just told me about him, there was so much I didn’t know—“

“Would you have believed me? You would have just thought I was jealous.”

“That’s fair. I mean, I had no idea that you feel… That you felt that way.”

The past tense landed like an anvil between them.

Harry’s phone buzzed; someone was calling him. He silenced it, then put his arms around her again.

“Do you remember it, like I remember it?” Harry said, looking at his feet. They started moving easily, just like they did in the arena the night he first taught Izzy how to dance. She remembered the confetti falling around them.

Izzy nodded. Their faces were close; his hair brushed her forehead.

“Izzy. Come back on tour with me. George and Lydia are only joining for some of the dates—they won’t bother us, and I’m sure they won’t last that long, anyway.”

Harry’s eyes searched hers. A little supercut of the tour played across them in Izzy’s mind: Listening to Harry from the side of the stage with Meg, lying under the stage with Olivia, sitting on the stage after the show with Harry and Elijah, Jess and Lydia and George laughing together in the back room, lying in the grass with Harry at the co-op, playing guitar with Tara in the green room, Harry comforting Lydia, flashbulbs breaking through her window, Tara coughing up blood from the floor at that party. The reel glitched on those images and played them over and over: Tara on the floor, Tara on the floor, Lydia and George, Lydia and George.

Harry’s phone buzzed again. He silenced it again, waiting for her reply. “Izzy? It could be whatever you want. The secret girlfriend. Seamstress for the band?”

And there it was: Izzy felt her anxiety rushing back in, filling a cavern inside her that had been empty and maybe just waiting for it to come back. Harry was trying to be playful, but Izzy winced. He was waiting for her answer and she couldn’t stall. Her heart raced: she saw her self in Australia with Harry, Paris, London, Warsaw, Spain. She saw herself watching Harry and Jess faking a relationship for clout. She saw herself awkwardly avoiding George and Lydia. Suddenly, that last one eclipsed all the other things. She felt her heart start racing. “It ends in… July?”

“We’re in California for January, and then we wrap back here in Italy in July.”

“Back in LA.”

“Just for January.”

Harry’s words raced through her mind: seamstress for the band. She would be back in Los Angeles again, the city where George was recording, for almost a month. Izzy exhaled. She wouldn’t let anxiety make this decision. She tried to think: what do I actually want? Do I want to go back on the tour, or do I want to keep living with Olivia, go to classes, and work on what I’ve been building? She wanted to tell Harry more of the truth—they still weren’t saying everything. 

“You didn’t want to be with me… over the holidays, when I was texting you,” Izzy stammered. “You left me on read for weeks. But you want me on the tour.”

“I thought you hated me. I was sure you hated me. It was only when I heard you were here, that I thought…”

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

His eyes widened. He pulled her hand up onto his chest—his heart was racing, too, tapping her fingertips.

“Not anymore?” He said. Izzy wanted to make a decision based on what she wanted, not what she was afraid of. 

Izzy leaned in and kissed him, soft lips crushing into hers just like she remembered. He put his other hand up to her face, fingertips in her hair, dragging his thumb along her cheek. A flower had caught in his hair. 

Harry kissed her cheek, then her neck. He wound his arms around her waist and crushed her against him, pressing his lips to hers again.

“Izzy.”

“Harry.”  

Izzy wanted to go with him, so badly. So badly. She pulled away and looked at Harry. Jess’s words echoed in her mind: You’re back on your bullshit, living for other people. 

“I want you to come and find me in July,” Izzy said. Harry’s face furrowed—anger flashed across it, just like it had before.

“I thought you were coming back with me now. Eddie, Elijah—they’re all excited to see you, they all know you’re coming with me. We leave Saturday. Everything’s set.”

Izzy stepped back from him. “I don’t think I can watch you fake it with Jess.” The words she was saying felt like they were coming out of another person’s mouth. The person who enrolled in the classes, the person who got her own apartment, the person who didn’t want to be the secret girlfriend; Izzy felt, for a moment, that this was a separate person than who she actually was—she was desperate to be with Harry again.

Harry’s phone buzzed again. He silenced it again.

“Wait…” Izzy said. Her hand dropped from his chest. “How did you know that I was here?”

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Lydia. Lydia told me.”

More secrets and lies, Izzy thought. She was left out again, not knowing what was going on—just like she had been with Lydia and George, and Harry and Jess. She felt like a kid at a grown up party again. 

“I don’t want to keep things from you,” Harry said, reading her look. “I’m just trying not to hurt you. I have been trying to talk sense into Lydia. I told her about George’s debt, just like I told you—she didn’t know how bad it was. How bad it still is.”

“I want to be with you,” Izzy said. Harry smiled. 

“Me too, Izzy. That’s all I want.” They were so close, Izzy thought. So close to everything being perfect. 

“When the fake relationship is over. When George and Lydia aren’t there—I’m sure I’ll be fine with all of it, in time, but I honestly can’t deal with them at all right now. Just even hearing anything about them, it’s too much…”

“I’m on the road alone for seven months and then see if you’re still around? That’s what you want?”

“It’s not that I want it, it’s just what I think I can tolerate.”

“Seven months away from you? Izzy, I don’t know if I can.”  

Noise from the courtyard broke in: it was almost midnight and the backpackers had crowded around the bar to count down. They were shouting: 20, 19... 

His phone buzzed again. “Bloody hell,” he said. He finally took it out of his pocket and checked who it was. He scrolled through a few messages, color draining from his face.

“Izzy, I… are Meg and Olivia still around? You’re not alone ‘ere, right?”

“They’re here. You’re here.”

Just then, Meg called over from the courtyard. “Did you tell her already?” Meg asked Harry.

10, 9...

“Tell me what?” Izzy asked, sharply. She felt like she was on the outside again. Meg walked over and put her hand on Izzy’s shoulder. Olivia followed, and tilted her phone toward her.

It was a news headline in The Daily Mail. George and Lydia were engaged. Rock god, whirlwind romance, fashion icon jumped out from the screen.

Izzy closed her eyes then opened them again. She was hoping that the headline would have disappeared. But it was still there, and more were popping up after it. They were planning to elope. They were already in Vegas, or maybe they were already married—some articles said Vegas, some said California. Harry said something, but Izzy couldn’t hear him.

Meg gently pushed the phone away. “You dodged a bullet,” she said.

“So it could hit Lydia,” Izzy replied.

3, 2...

“I’ll go,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her cheek and stepped away to answer the phone. Izzy grabbed for the phone again and saw a stream of photos: Lydia smiling deliriously, George smirking at the camera, a huge emerald ring.

Happy New Year!

“What am I supposed to do?” Izzy asked no one. “Do I go back on the tour? How can I help her?”

“You can’t. This is her choice,” Olivia said.

“Stupid choice,” Meg added.

Olivia sat down in an old iron chair leaning against the wall and extended another glass of limoncello to Izzy, who gulped it down.

“He knows about the insurance payout, doesn’t he?” Meg asked. Izzy swore under her breath. She hadn’t even considered that.

“Insurance payout?” Olivia asked.

“He’s drowning in debt, and Lydia got a payout when her mom died. I don’t think she’s actually touched much of it.”

“How can we help her?” Izzy asked. “Before you suggest it, I’m not going back on the tour so I can watch her and George together and maybe get poisoned by Jess.” Olivia laughed.

“I think you have to do what would make you happiest, not what would fix Lydia. You’ve done a lot over the last three months,” Meg said.

“What are you going to do, Izzy?”

Izzy looked around for Harry, but he was gone.

next chapter

[1d1195]

Most

Being soulmates was everything to Harry. Even when he didn't want to be soulmates.

Because as much as that meant all-encompassing love, it meant there would be just as much pain.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

[harryxmarvel]

Broken trust

Summary - Y/n overhears harry calling her annoying

Pairing - Harrystyles x reader!y/n

W.c - 1.5k

Warning - Angst

A/n - First try writing angst

Y/n always felt like she was too much. Even before dating harry.But he told her it was fine to be herself around him.

She was loud, carefree, blunt and sometimes clingy and she knew that.

She knew she was and she tried to keep it at bay. Besides harry had told her that he liked how she was. He liked her character and that's what made her as her.

So she was herself when she was with him and he loved her for it but maybe it does get too much sometimes?

Probably.

So when y/n heard harry talk to a friend about how clingy and loud she could be. How he wished he could take a break from her sometimes. It broke her. She felt her heart rip into two when she heard him say those things to his friend without knowing she was hearing it all.

He had said everything she wished she wasn't but was and she thought Harry had accepted that this was her and loved her for it but maybe not.

With a crushed heart she went back downstairs, silently going back to placing the dishes she prepared for him. Now she had doubts about everything she was doing.

Was her preparing his favourite dish annoying too?

What else did he find annoying?

Did he hate it when she cuddled him?

Did he like the way she laughed?

Did he still love her?

She was staring off somewhere when harry walked down and hugged her from behind bringing her back to reality.

He placed a gentle kiss on her neck his strong arms wrapped tightly around her.

"what's for dinner, baby?" He asks still kissing her neck.

She didn't reply tho, not when she was trying to figure out if he was faking being sweet. Would he say all those things to her face?

Her ex-boyfriends have told her cruel things when they broke it off. It took her months to get over but when she met Harry everything changed and she accepted that this was her and the right person will love her for her. He made sure to help her realise that.

But now everything was coming back and she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed because she knew what came after. He was going to break up with her. The thought alone sent a chill down her spine as she unglued herself from harry and went to the dinning table.

They sat in silence and harry immediately knew something was wrong. She was never quite ,always talking about anything that was on her mind.

"what's wrong baby?" He sweetly asks his green eyes filled with worry meeting hers but she quickly looks down at her untouched plate of food.

"nothing" she murmured afraid if she talked any louder he'd find it annoying.

Harry stood up from his seat and walked near her and lifted her chin with his fingers looking at her eyes to see them "What's going on?" He asks worry in his voice.

She didn't reply , pushed herself away from him and walked to their shared bedroom. The tears were gonna burst any minute and she didn't want him to see her but before she could close the door he was behind her.

She turns around ready to scream at him but the tears finally leave her eyes and fall down her cheeks. Harry was stunned and he immediately walks towards her to hug her only she fights it and tries to push him off and he realises maybe he had something to do with this. Did he make her cry? What had he done?

"Babe, can you please talk to me? Did I do something? Did I make you cry? Please love" he begs eyes filled with worry as he watches her move away from him.

She didn't answer him, her throat tight as she tried to catch her breath. Harry tried to comfort her from distance and it seemed to calm her down. She was sat on the floor leaning against the wall near their bed.

Harry sat on the opposing wall patiently waiting for her to say what was wrong without knowing it was all his fault. Y/n never cried, if something made her sad she voiced it but she never shed a tear in front of him not even when he was teary eyed watching some sad romcom with a sad ending so it shocked him to see her fall apart infront of him and he didn't even know why.

" I'm sorry" she says and harry immediately moved closer to her and wraps his arms around her pulling her to his chest.

Harry rubs her shoulders and after she had calmed down a bit she pushes herself away from harry and he looks

"I....heard.. y...your call?" Y/n says but it comes out as a question her eyes are filled with tears again as she remembers his words.

"what call...." Harry stops mid sentence as realisation hits him like a train and y/n could read every emotion on his face. Confused to realisation soon turned to one of sad and worried.

"Babe....I di" but before he could lie and take it back y/n cuts him off

"No! no, don't do this. You wouldn't have said that if you didn't mean it."

Harry's eyes start to gloss over at the realisation of how bad this could go. He had messed up big time and now as his brain tries to find something to not mess it up further y/n packs a bag and while he scrambles to his feet to beg her to stay.

"Y/n , baby... Please don't do this. I didn't mean it. I just have been in so much pressure with the tours, interviews and the next album. I'm so sorry. I really am I'm sorry. I love you...." Harry's was scared and y/n could see it but she knew how much her leaving right now was going to hurt him she had to do it because he had wrecked her heart with his words and she needed time away to recover from that.

"H. I just need some time... I'm sorry too. I know I could be too much sometimes but I never thought I would make you feel like you have to handle that side of me but that is me and if you hate that then I can't be with you." Y/n says tears steaming down her face and harry wasn't any better he was losing the love of his life because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. He really was stressed but he still shouldn't have said it and now he is going to face the consequences. Will she come back?? His mind keeps asking him.

The truth was they both didn't know the answer to that.

*

It had been a week and harry had called and texted everyday leaving voicemails apologizing and even sending flowers to her apartment. Y/n was glad he stopped there and didn't show up at her door because she would cave but she still needed time to think and move forward about this. She hadn't replied to his texts or calls but she soon had to soon.

But y/n didn't need to as she bumbs into harry at the cafe they both regulars and he smiles at her and pulls her into a hug taking a deep inhale of her hair and mumbling "I miss you" as they break the hug a little too soon for his liking.

"join me please?" Harry asks eyes begging her as y/n nods her head silently in agreement . They both take a seat at one of the corner booths , the windows were tinted so they would be perfectly fine there. Harry orders y/n's usual coffee and they sit in silence. Harry trying to catch her eyes but she was looking down at the table avoiding him.

"Y/n .....I didn't mean what I said. I love you for who you are please don't forget that. I can give you reasons but that won't get us anywhere, I'm really sorry i shouldn't have said those words and especially not to someone. I really am sorry y/n. Forgive me please?' harry asks expectantly.

" I get it harry, I just .... You could have told me you know. Just let me know when I become overbearing - no let me talk." She cuts him off when he tries to interject. "The words doesn't hurt , it's hurts me to know you said it behind my back. I told you about my ex but now it feels like you did the same thing just not to my face which feels even worse " y/n says eyes getting glossy again as she blinks to get rid of the tears and harry gulps before nodding his head as he waits for her to tell the words. Tell him she didn't want him anymore.

"I'm sorry, i was feeling stressed out and I should have just told you. I really am sorry" he says and she wraps her hands in his gently.

"I do forgive you though but I need sometime to process this and to trust you again" y/n says in a low voice and harry nods his head again understandingly.

Harry agreed to have sometime apart and they moved on from there. They would go on dates and eventually Y/n started to trust harry again and he made sure she knew just how much he loved her.

[writingsfromhome]

The Golden Years

A/N: really liked this song the first time I heard it and decided to write something based off of it!!

——————————————

5 years ago:

The halls were noisy with the rush of the bell; the day had ended and everyone was eager to get home on the spring Friday. I sit in the music room with my guitar, strumming softly trying to get the tune out of my head.

The music room had the familiar woody smell, I never really knew if that was from the furnishing or all the instruments but I never got tired of it.

The only other people here are Thomas who’s napping after skipping his last class and the music teacher who’s setting up the class for next week’s lesson. He liked me and by extension allowed me to linger in his class after school. And sometimes let my mates stay hidden from hall monitors.

I wave goodbye to him as he finishes up, wishing him a good weekend. He just misses y/n walking in.

Y/n y/l/n. She moved down the road from me a couple years ago and she was always fascinating to me. She’d made friends her first few months here and stuck with them—those same friends hated my friends for various reasons but they always gave me an excuse to interact with her albeit in an annoying way.

Y/n was known to win out the lead for any play our school has put on. She had an infectious energy and I’d spent every moment she caught my eye gazing at her—not that I’d admit it if anyone ever asked.

She spots me and smiles, I remember to smile back at the last minute, shocked that she was acknowledging me with one. We hadn’t been nice to each other in a while; the circles we ran in loved to hate each other.

“Hey Harry,” she walks up to a nearby desk and perches there. “Whatcha working on today?”

I try to compose myself, “hey. Y/n. Uh I’m just trying something out. Something new.”

“Can I hear it?” She asks, her eyes alight with a genuine interest. It catches me off guard again.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I asked didn’t I?!”

“It’s really rough.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugs. She makes herself more comfortable.

“Really rough I-“

“Please?”

With a bat of her eyes I’m putty. I take in a deep breath—here goes nothing. Or if anything this would just be one more thing her friends could make fun of me for. Maybe that’s why she was here.

I strum her what I’d been working on for the last hour and hum along. She listens intently, her expression shifting and opening up as the chords change. Being me and nervous, I end it on the wrong note and nearly poke my eye out with the neck, making an awkward save as I set it down on my lap.

She sits quietly after the production, back straight and gazing out the window with a relaxed smile.

“I know you said that’s rough but that was amazing.” She says to me. “You’re actually bloody talented Harry.”

“Aw uhm well thanks,” I mumble. My cheeks feel on fire. I rarely played for people like this. If they were around while I worked on pieces that was alright but I’ve never had an audience of one.

“No really! You have a gift how long you working on?”

“The day.”

“The day!” She shouts and her enthusiasm makes me laugh. I don’t know why she was being so nice to me but it fills me with a buzzing joy. “You have such a way with your music like each strum is a new part of a story. It’s good! I can imagine it in a movie.”

I blush harder, “Thanks I um…I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s easier to express myself with this than with…with like a conversation?”

She nods in understanding, “Y’know you should share your music. Start a channel or something online and post stuff! Like covers—people love covers-“

“I don’t really like to sing.”

“But I bet you’re good at it too?”

“Uhm nah I’m-“

“Don’t get shy on me now!” She nudges me and I swear I feel it linger even after she moves her hand away. “You’re such a tough jerk in the halls when you’re picking on my friends don’t go soft now.”

I laugh until I’m doubled over, part overjoyed and part embarassed because it was true. I don’t know why I was suddenly being shy.

“I’ve got to warm up my vocal cords,” I touch my throat once I’m done laughing. She grins. “I can’t sing right now.”

“I’ll hear it one day. I’m holding you to it.” She points a finger at me. “You should be performing this stuff.”

The idea of performing outside the walls of the music room felt both exciting and daunting. But the earnestness in y/n’s eyes give me a sense of courage.

"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never really thought about it.”

"Well, maybe it's time you did," she suggests gently. "Don't let your talents stay hidden."

“Yeah,” I smile. “Makes sense coming from you.”

“What’s that mean?” She raises a brow.

“Our year wouldn’t be blessed with all your productions, you’ve got natural talent too.”

“Yeah well,” now it’s her time to blush. “I really enjoy it.”

“I know.” I say. She catches my eye and a tender fondness passes between us.

“Anyway, I promised Clara I would braid her hair before her football match so I’ve got to go. But…it was nice talking Harry.”

I watch her go and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face the rest of the weekend.

5 years later:

I didn’t think I would see her here. After all, she lived across the pond these days and had rsvp’d as a maybe.

But there she stands with the same group of friends that surrounded her even back then. They’re all a little older, grown into people their secondary selves could only imagine becoming. But even now, they’re faceless next to her; she commands all my attention.

She looks stunning in a simple blue bridesmaid dress and her hair grown down in waves. The wind lifts her hair and she looks as majestic as the first day my eyes landed on her. As radiant as every day I’d been with her afterwards. She was golden sunshine and every minute I got to spend with her had been golden too.

Four years since I last saw her. Those four years had gone by in the blink of an eye; it had been fun ‘til it hurt.

I feel a surge of emotions—longing, regret, and the tiniest speck of hope. They compete for dominance as I indulge studying her for a moment longer and just as I look away her head lifts, catching my gaze for the briefest second.

My heart races.

I turn and wander to where my mates pass a football around. Just like we used to. Some things never changed.

Some things did.

“You see her yet?” Thomas asks.

“D’you not see the look in his eye?” Abe, his twin brother, asks.

“Yeah I saw her,” I interrupt before they wheedle me for how I looked. I could imagine it, the regret and sorrow etched into my face. “It’s been four years I’ve already told you lot I’m over it.”

My friends glance at each other.

“I am.” I insist.

“The lady doth protest—ow!” Ramo rubs his chest where I’d tossed the football.

“Where’d this even come from?” I nod to the football.

They shrug, “Some kid had it. We stole it from him.”

I sigh and look around the space. One of our best mates from secondary was getting married to Hailey, one of Y/N’s mates. That’s why half of our class was here a short walk from where we all went to school.

The reception should have started a half hour ago but the couple were stuck in traffic. Apparently. So all the guests have been entertaining ourselves and that meant stealing footballs from children.

“What happened to that lady you were supposed to bring along?” Abe asks.

“Lady?” I ask.

“Yeah wasn’t she a few years older than you?”

I repress the urge to sigh, the same as when we were school boys these friends never stopped teasing each other. Of course I also did my fair share but the trick was to never let them know it cut too deep.

“We ended things a while ago,” I say as if it doesn’t poke at an old wound to say.

A while ago was two weeks ago when she found out my ex would be at the wedding and I had sent a text to the best man clarifying if she would be there. She had seen the message and gone batshit, talking about trust and about being emotionally closed off. It was hours of arguing into the night before she’d left home. We’d broken up the next day.

The old wound was feeling like I was never going to find love like I did with her. With Y/N. Every relationship I’d had since crashed and burned worse than a Nascar vehicle with faulty mechanics.

If I would've known those were the golden years, I would have done things so differently.

But for the last two weeks instead of pathetically staring at pictures with my ex and wondering if I should call her to make up, I was pathetically looking at the polaroids of Y/N and I that I kept in an old box. I wondered what happened to the ones she had, if they had gone up in flames or if they lived in a shoebox under her bed.

My attention’s snagged by the boys elbowing each other and glancing at me and then behind me. I turn just in time for y/n and a couple of her friends to walk up to us.

I try to play it cool but I don’t know how I look; probably like a deer in headlights, and y/n is the bright stark headlights.

But her eyes slide off of me and onto the group and it feels like I’ve become the deer after the headlights have blinked out of sight.

“If it isn’t the poor four,” one of y/n’s friend uses our nickname from school. “And who’s this?”

“Dinis,” Dinis puts the football down and extends his hand to Clara. We watch them flirt.

“Didn’t you know Dinis in college?” Abe asks.

“Clara moved away in college,” y/n says smiling at the interaction happening in front of us. “Obviously she hasn’t felt the Dinis-effect yet.”

Her friend and her laugh.

“Oi Y/N haven’t seen you in a minute how’s the Angel City?” Ramo asks.

“You mean the city of angels?” Y/n raises a brow and the group laughs again. I’m too mesmerized watching her talk, seeing her alive and in person in front of me to catch the joke in time so I smile along with the group. “It’s cool, always something to do. But I don’t actually live there anymore I moved out of the city last year. Get some breathing room.”

My heart skips a beat. “I heard the city’s as rammed as ours.”

I anticipate her attention, us locking eyes, something passing between. When our eyes do meet I feel a rush of familiarity and uncertainty.

And she simply glances like I’m just another bloke to her, nods, and the looks back at the group. “Yeah sometimes even worse if you can believe.”

Someone else asks another question but my head is filled with a loud buzz. Reality feels like it crushes me down as easy as an aluminum can; I was spared a glance. She spared me a glance. That’s all I was to her?

“Where d’you think the newlyweds are?” Clara asks.

“Traffic,” Abe rolls his eyes.

“Think fast,” Thomas suddenly shouts and the football is whizzing past me towards Clara. We watch in horror as it hits her with a thwack in the chest.

“What the fuck Thomas!” Clara holds her hands out as she stares at the dirt staining her blue dress. “What the-“

“That’ll come off,” Clara’s friends assure her. “It’s not mud don’t-“

“Here,” suddenly Denis is beside her and holding out his hand. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“What the hell mate?” I look at Thomas. He’s flushed and looking scared. I’m too busy looking at him to notice Clara’s pitched the ball back at him and it hits him in the side of the head, knocking some sense back into him.

“Nice one.” Someone mutters.

“I’m sorry!” He finally finds his voice as Clara walks away with Dinis.

“You’ve got shite all over your hair,” Abe points out to his brother.

“I’m outta here before I’m next,” y/n’s other friends starts to back away to the group they were in previously.

“Where?!” Thomas starts rubbing it off which only spreads it further into gelled hair.

“Let’s go,” Abe hauls his brother away with an arm locked around his neck, tussling the dirt in his hair as they go.

“So…” Ramo looks between y/n and me, scratching the back of his head. “That was crazy. I should return this ball to…”

He trails off, walking away from the two of us. Which wouldn’t have been as awkward except he just left a cloud of awkward in his stead.

“Y/N,” I say softly like I was approaching a feral pup.

“Harry,” she replies, her tone polite yet distant, a subtle barrier between us.

“I don’t think they’ve changed much,” I act like I wasn’t aware of everything unspoken.

She smiles politely. “Nope. Just as boyish as the day we all met.”

“That wasn’t our proudest moment-“

“Yeah you boys thought you could beat us girls at British bulldog.”

“Little did we know,” I shake my head. We’d been badly beaten and battered by the girls’ team. We didn’t take to losing very well back then.

“If only we knew then what we know now.”

I look over at y/n; it felt like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Something that sounded close to reminiscing about us.

But with how she was acting it made me feel like I’d made us up. Was it never that serious for her?

“Wouldn’t have fucked up so much?” I ask.

“Yeah something like that,” her lips tip into a half smile. She still hasn’t looked me in the eye for more than a second. I missed those eyes. I missed the way they used to look at me.

“How’s the acting?” I ask. I wait for her to look at me, acknowledge me more than she did. Wait to see if alone together there would be more meaning in the looks we exchange but she stays facing forward.

“It’s slow right now. I haven’t been booking much this season which is why I was able to make it to this.”

“Sorry to hear that,” look at me I want to say instead.

She shrugs. “It happens. Slow seasons then you find yourself booked back to back and burnt out. Nature of the biz as they say.”

“Very LA.”

We go quiet and I feel my heart explode at the distance she was keeping; I can sense her guardedness.

"I've missed you," I confess quietly, unable to hold back the truth any longer. "I think about you often."

Her gaze softens, a fleeting vulnerability crossing her features before it hardens into something stonier.

"It’s been four years," she notes in an even voice. “Surely you’ve moved on Harry. Don’t try to flatter me now.”

I don’t think I had moved on, I think with a sinking heart. I hoped tonight would be a night of reconnecting and exploring if there was anything left of us in the future. But it seemed that y/n had made up her mind about what her future was going to be long before this.

“Oh look Clara’s back,” she spots her friend walking back towards us. Dinis is nowhere in sight but she’s splotchy and windswept.

“I’m going to literally kill that prick. I’ve got a wet spot on my front like I’m still bloody breastfeeding or something.”

“It’ll dry up,” y/n pats her friend’s dress. “It’s sunny out don’t worry.”

“It better by the time we do photos.”

It’s like I’m not even there. They continue talking and slowly turn to walk back to their other friends.

“Nice talk,” I call out.

Clara’s still too busy ranting but y/n glances at me. Her smile is a reflex as she waves, unengaged and apathetic.

I feel a jab in my chest, I don’t know what to think. The last four years I’ve been so afraid I’d let go of the best thing. That I’d never find a love like hers. Meanwhile she’s moved on so much that I wasn’t even an ex any longer. I was just someone she knew in grade school. That hurts. It feels like lava dripping over my chest.

“Y’alright?” Ramo reappears at my side. He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah!” I put on a smile I don’t even feel. “Just wondering when this party’s getting bloody started.”

I feel Ramo’s eyes on me as I walk towards another drink but he doesn’t say anything more.

***

I sit with my arm around Y/n and her head rests on my shoulder. Sometimes the quiet moments we existed in beat out the others. They fed my heart and heightened every sense of mine.

“I wrote something,” I whisper into her hair. She turns her head to look up at me and I gently pull away. “A song…for you.”

“For me?” Y/n’s eyes are alight with shock and something else. “You wrote a song for me?”

My heart pounds as I confirm with a nod. “I’m halfway done but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Well go on,” she sits up and angles herself towards me. “I want to hear it!”

I pull my guitar case closer to me and open the familiar snaps, pulling the instrument out and close to me with shaky hands. Y/N watches with an excited attentiveness.

I began the melody that started as a few chords in my head the first time Y/N and I kissed under this tree and has continued to build for the 4 weeks since. This tree felt like it witnessed so much of the 5 weeks we’ve officially been together and I wanted to write an ode to it as much as y/n.

I couldn’t believe it was only 5 weeks but after a summer and a whole semester of flirting and hanging out I’d finally asked her out at the end of January. It was now March and Y/n had gotten her acceptance letter from across the ocean. She had told me last week with nervous hands and I wanted her to know we would always have this thing between us no matter what decision she made.

Y/n smiles as I begin but her eyes grow misty as I finish my final lines I had so far.

"And under the cherry tree, where love and laughter will always be," I sing softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'll cherish all these memories, even when you're not beside me."

“Oh Har,” she tips forward and I catch her against my chest, her head buried in my neck. “I can’t imagine living so far from you. Leaving you and everyone behind.”

“It’s the adventure you’ve been waiting for,” I reassure her. “You’re gonna make it big.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she whispers.

I pry her away gentle so she can look me in the face. I want to selfishly tell her to stay and never leave me. But even more than that I want her to do what she has always been passionate about, what she loves to do.

Love.

I love her, I realize with a clarity that cut so deep it tumbles out of my mouth.

“I love you,” I say. She freezes in my arms and I fumble to continue. “And I want you to live the life you always imagined. You’re destined for amazing things y/n I know it. I’ll always be here.”

“Will you?”

“Of course,” I kiss her on her temple and ignore that she didn’t say it back. That I said it too soon damnit we’d only been dating a month. What was wrong with me?

“I think you need to share your talent with the world,” she reminds me.

“That’s why I joined the talent show with you.” It was y/n’s idea, a final hurrah before we graduate and to prove to myself that I could get over my performance anxiety.

“We’re gonna crush it.”

I nod, the lump in my throat grows too big for words. She seems to sense it like she always does and pulls me into her this time.

It would take her a week to whisper the three words back to me, in the darkened corner of a house party right before she leads me home. It was a long week but so worth it.

***

The next time I catch y/n alone is when I’m talking to Hailey who’s thanking me for the few words I gave for her now husband Michael. The husband in question was doing the Macarena and Hailey was the sort to never be caught dead doing that sort of thing.

That’s why the couple never made sense to either group of friends. Yet they were the ones with a ring on their finger this many years later.

“Hailey oh-“ y/n is tipsy, I can tell with the sheen to her eye and the permanent half-smile etched into her lips. “Sorry didn’t realize-“

“That’s alright!” Hailey wraps her arm around y/n. “This girl is the best. She literally hopped on a last minute flight to be here! Can you believe that? I was crushed when she said maybe but ugh she always swoops in last minute saves the day. That’s always been her, back in the day during one of our school dances right, I got caught with…”

Y/n and I lock eyes as the bride babbles on and there. Finally there. The passing look of two people who know what the other is thinking without a single word.

She seems to catch herself and after an intense few seconds and a small smile she composes her face into an unengaged one and jostles Hailey.

“Hailey Harry doesn’t care! I just wanted to get a photo with you and Mik-“

“He’s too bloody busy doing cringe dances-“

“He’s actually having a drink looking for you now but look at this.”

“What?” Hailey’s head swivels around the room as y/n presents her phone with the groom doing a very serious macarena.

“And they say gen z get all the cringe dances,” I comment. Y/n snorts and then covers her mouth, her laugh falling away into a composed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” I say before I can think. A part of me was getting desperate and a little irritated and another felt heartbroken all over again.

“Do what?” She asks as Hailey prances away from us when she spots Michael.

“Be all serious and composed around me. If I’m funny just laugh. My ego could use a lift.”

She stares with a tight lip and cautious eyes.

“You used to laugh the most at my jokes,” I say a bit softer. “Made me feel like the funniest bloke in the room.”

Her eyes lose a bit of their edge but her mouth is still hard-set and a wrinkle forms between her brows. That was new.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” She says. “Gotta get the picture.”

“Right,” I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go back to the married couple. Right before she reaches them she turns slightly. When she finds me still watching, she jerks back around.

Hope siphons into my chest.

***

“This is the best song!” Abe shouts in my ear as he and the remaining wedding guests belt out Sweet Caroline.

It was late into the wedding party. Much of the older invitees had gone home and kids with their footballs were probably tucked into bed. What remained were Hailey and Michael’s school friends and a few stragglers that were too drunk to want to go home.

“Final song,” the DJ announces. “Time of my Life.”

All night I had been stealing glances at y/n waiting to see if she would come to me. Reciprocate even an ounce of anything I felt. But she hadn’t. She’d gone out of her way to avoid me even when we’d bumped into each other outside the toilets. She’d simply brushed past with a mumble of something I couldn’t make out.

I think what I said to her made her angrier. The anger, and the cold shoulder was new. It makes me feel small.

But I’d had enough drinks by now to feel confident. Enough to walk to where she dances with some friends.

“Y/n.”

She startles and plays it off with a laugh. “What d’you want?”

I motion my head to the side. To talk.

Hesitation makes her eyes weary but she follows after a moment.

Everyone around us sings along to the song. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“What?” She asks.

I stare at her openly, she allows me as she searches my face herself. I grasp at something to start this off with but I’ve had a few drinks myself.

“I used to think you were completely out of my league,” what comes out is a random thought in the speech I’d built up in my head throughout the night.

Her nose wrinkles, “what are you on about Harry?”

“Don’t do that,” I clutch my shirt. “Don’t act like we’re strangers, like we didn’t have something together.”

Her smile falls away, “we had something…like four five years ago. That’s…that’s ages ago Harry. Tell me you’re not still hung up on it?”

Her voice cuts right through me but it’s her gaze that doesn’t quite look at me that gives her away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me I mean nothing to you now,” I cut through the bullshit. It might have been the realization that I’d stayed hung up on this woman for years, sabotaged my love life on the idea I’d find nothing like what we had. And she stood here in front of me now undermining what we had. Making me feel crazy.

She looks me in the eyes, the eyes that haunted me in my dreams.

“I…it was a long time ago Harry.”

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me all night?”

“I haven’t. We’re talking now?”

“So I’m nothing to you?” I ask, hearing the hurt and wishing I didn’t sound so desperate.

“Look. We were young and free and what we had back then doesn’t actually translate to much when you look back as adults.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? So you can freeze away your feelings for what we had?”

She gapes, then turns away with her arms wrapped around herself like the freezing caught up.

“I don’t know what you want.” She finally says.

“I just…” what did I want? “I want to know if you ever think about us. If you have any regrets…if…”

She sighs, “Of course you cross my mind from time to time. But I wouldn’t have regrets. I can see why someone would have regrets, however, after they just let someone they called the love of their life go. Especially when she needed him the most.”

There it was. Her hot anger.

“When you needed…”

“Yeah!” She barely glances at me. “I was scared of leaving and losing you and being alone and all the unknown things. And you left me. You just…said goodbye to us.”

Woah.

Her eyes prick with tears and she turns back to the dancing crowd. The song was winding down and the venue being cleared. I feel the opportunity pass through my fingers.

If I would have known, I would have held her longer. I would never have left her alone. Especially when she needed me the most.

“Y/n,” in a desperate move I grab for her arm and turn her back around. Her lashes are lined with tears, her mouth open in an “o” as she looks up at me. My eyes can’t help themselves as they flicker down to them. This was the closest I came to holding her like before. Her eyes do the same and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s not worth much,” she says through a watery smile. Trying not to cry; trying to stay composed.

“I’m still in l-“

“Stop,” she puts her hand on top of mind and gently nudges it off her arm. She shakes her head and her hair falls gently to cover her face. “I can’t do this right now Harry. I travelled all this way to celebrate our best friends. But the distance between us was for a reason.”

“It’s been years-“

“Doesn’t change how you left me after I gave you my whole heart. Or the fact that that we ended.”

“I truly an sorry,” I say to her retreating figure.

The shame I feel courses through my body; I couldn’t have known better back then. I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize these types of decisions weren’t to be made lightly. That their repercussions would echo for the rest of my life.

I left her under the cherry tree in the courtyard of the school we’d graduated from. It was late June and it haunted my memories since.

—

Under the skyward branches of the blushing cherry tree, a solemn silence hung in the air. It was the last day of our final year, and emotions swirled between us like the spring breeze.

Y/N stood with her back against the tree trunk, her yearbook clasped tightly to her chest, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood before her, my hands nervously clenched in my pockets, heart heavy with the weight of impending decision.

"I can't believe it's over," y/n murmured, her voice cracking with emotion as she meets my eyes. "Four years went by so fast."

I nod, unable to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t school ending that was making us this sad but what would come of us as I would attend school in the country and y/n out.

This decision weighed heavily on my mind ever since I learned y/n was attending ucla across the ocean—a decision she had made long before we acknowledged our feelings for each other. Now facing the idea of long-distance, I couldn’t shake the fear that everything was changing and things would be different in an unknowable way.

"Yeah," I manage to reply. My voice comes out hoarse, my throat tight with tears I was pushing down. “I'm going to miss this... miss us I…”

Her lower lip trembles, emotions ripple across her features. “Harry god I’m gonna miss us, you…just getting to be together everyday!”

I scrub at my eyes, not wanting to cry right now. She notices and wipes them for me. “You've been my rock through everything this last year."

I take a step towards her, closer. She was the sun and I wanted to bask in her glow, always. Except today wasn’t a bright day, my heart breaks at the sight of the tears streaking her cheeks. “Y/N I…” I try to find the right words but they fail me again. In the meantime a hundred chords play through my mind, deepening the grief I felt.

Suddenly a surge of panic grips me, my blood turns cold like it usually did when I thought about her leaving me. When I consider the depth of what this meant.

Deep down I couldn’t bear the thought of losing y/n but at the same time the unknown was playing at my fears, my anxiety. Imagine a future where she’s thousands of miles away. Everyone I know who talks about long-distance always gets their heart broken…distance never makes relationships stronger.

What if, I think, what if I just rip the bandaid off.

Wouldn’t that be the merciful thing to do? Instead of continuing to a point of no return. I mean what if we try long-distance, y/n creates a life in America, and realizes I was holding her back? What if we end up hating each other?

My brow feels slick and my heart pounds away. I clear my throat.

“I love you y/n.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“After this summer, after you leave-“

“We don’t have to talk about this right now let’s just enjoy now and-“

“How can we?” I finally break. “How can we enjoy now when we know there’s an expiry date to all this!”

“Harry,” y/n grabs my hands. Attempts to soothe my anxiety but I’d passed the point of no return. The words continue to tumble out.

“What if…maybe it’s for the best if we…if we let go now.”

“What?” Shock colours y/n’s face and her eyes fill with tears. “What are you saying Har?”

“I don't want us to... to hurt each other trying to make this work.”

Her mouth hangs open and I can see her heart breaking in front of me. It kills me inside.

“But Har,” her voice grows desperate. “We talked about…we could…we’ll make it work-“

“Y/n,” now my own grows desperate. I wanted to stop talking about this, now that I’d made the decision to let go I wanted to just cut this loose and run away. “We’ll only hurt more.”

Her lower lip trembles and tears coat her bottom lash as she looks up at me through her top lashes. She whispers, “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”

And I was. I didn’t want to be the one to break us up but what choice did I have? I was doing it as the best case scenario.

Tears spill down y/n’s face and her voice is barely audible over the rustling of the cherry tree, “b-but I love you.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, the sway of the leaves now roaring in my ears. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing to my face. I feel my heart turn to dust and my entire body aches as the weight of the decision coats me. “I love you too y/n. I love you now and always.”

I clasp her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, a sob pulled forth by the contact.

“Y/n…maybe this is how we say goodbye. On our own terms. With space to…to heal.”

Y/n cries harder and I pull her in, tucking her into me because she fit so perfectly in my contours. A part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, I always imagined our goodbye at a Heathrow terminal under bright lights and linoleum floors.

We both cry into each other but I pull away first, I had to be the stronger one.

“I wish you nothing but the best,” I cup her face. “I…”

I didn’t know how to translate the dust of my heart. I kiss her one last time and then again on her forehead.

With that, I turn away unable to stand in the heartbreak. Every step away from her and the cherry tree feels impossible but I walk away from the girl who was my everything, feeling torn between the love I had for her and the fear of what the future would bring.

—

All I’d been thinking about was myself. About how I’d had friends who tried long distance and how their ending was more brutal than ripping the bandaid off from the get go.

That summer we avoided each other at parties, at our local haunts, and on the day she left I watched her car pull away from my bedroom window and leave forever with a leaden feeling in my heart. That I’d made a big mistake, too big to ever fix.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to set thing right. But things were just getting worse.

***

“After party!” Abe wraps his drunken arm around my shoulder. By then I’d sobered up with a quiet moment off to the side, smoking even though I’d tried to quit ten times in the last month. “I thought you quit that you cheeky bugger!”

“I’m going to,” I squish the cigarette against the wall. “You said after party?”

“After party!!” Ramo hollers coming up from behind. I take in the scene before me, the string lights were having their power cut, most of the tables were wiped clear of cutlery and tablecloths. Just like that the magical night Hailey and Micheal had been planning for months was over. Now they had their whole lives in front of them.

“Har?” Someone snaps a finger in front of my face.

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” A group had gathered in front of me, a mix of groomsmen and bridesmaid. Y/n isn’t one of them.

“What?” I ask again. “What’s this about an after party?”

“The party isn’t done,” someone replies.

“Please?!” I hear someone else say off to the side. Now that the music had also turned off it had gotten quieter in the venue.

I turn to the other conversation and see Hailey tugging y/n’s arms, trying to convince her of something. And just like that y/n’s eyes meet mine and something like resignation passes through them.

“-you in?” Michael claps my back and I’m jolted back to the crowd in front of me.

“Yeah,” I assumed they asked me about this after party. “Let’s keep the party going!”

Whooping ensures and everyone trickles out into the parking lot.

“Where is this again?” I ask whoever was closest to me.

“Schoolyard?” Clara answers. “If we don’t get kicked out for loitering that is.”

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

Clara side eyes me and realizes I’m joking. She huffs a laugh. “It’s like hoping for your 1 year old to go to bed without a tantrum.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “You had a baby last year. Congrats on that Clara.”

She laughs again, “You’re sweet Harry. Thanks. It’s been a hell of a year but I’m a glutton for punishment because all I can think of is skipping the after party to bury my face in my daughter’s. She’s probably asleep though. I’d wake her up.”

I imagine Clara with her daughter, she was always mothering her friends when I’d hang out with y/n in school. “I can see you being a wonderful mum. Your daughter probably adores you.”

“Not as much as I adore her,” Clara sighs. I chuckle and another laugh comes from the other side of me. I startle to see y/n walking beside me.

How long had she been there? Our eyes meet and the smile she sends me is sweet and innocent. Like that day in school long ago when she walked in on me tinkering away on my guitar and asked me to play something for her.

It throws me off just like it did then. I turn away.

“We’re just gonna walk there!” Someone ahead of us shouts back to the group.

“In these heels?” Someone complains.

“The girls can take a car?” Hailey suggests. So some of the bridesmaids pile into one but Clara and y/n stay with Hailey.

“I’m sensible now,” Clara stretches her heel-less foot out. “Y/n you sure you don’t want the ride?”

“I’ve been dancing without these for the last two hours.” Y/n shrugs. “My feet can handle the walk.”

“Are we betting how long it takes to get kicked out?” I ask the remainder of the crew.

Bets start flying, I bet 40 minutes.

“D’you think the cherry tree is still there? That was probably the loveliest bit of our school every spring.” Clara asks. “I haven’t been back in ages.”

“Yeah!” Hailey pipes in. “We did some of our photos there when we did save the dates. We ended up using the ones at the garden though.”

I glance at y/n, I can’t help it. She has the same idea because she looks at me too. I didn’t understand what was happening tonight. I’d nearly given up on reconciling but here she was suddenly giving me softened looks, her hard edges dulling down enough for me to bump into her shoulder and try joking.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“What?” She balks. “Ideas?!”

“Hey Har,” Hailey turns to me. “D’you still play? That guitar remembers guys? He was always playing that thing.”

I avoid y/n’s gaze now.

“Not really.”

“Harry’s a tight-ass finance bloke now,” Ramo says for me. “That creative spirit died after he and a little somebody-“

“I’m not,” I cut Ramo off knowing he was going to say something that would make all of us awkward. I continue to avoid y/n’s attention. “A tight-ass finance bloke. I like to think I’m a fine-ass finance bloke. And it’s because I just don’t get the time these days.”

“You were so good,” comes y/n’s thoughtful commentary.

“He was wasn’t he?!” Hailey continues. “Thought I’d see you on TV or something. That show with the contestants? I always thought if anyone from school went on there it’d be Harry.”

“Thanks Hailey,” I’m uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. And the way Abe keeps wriggling his eyebrows at me and tilting his head to y/n.

By now we’ve reached the school grounds and watch as the rest of the girls scramble out of the car. I spot the cherry tree on the far side, no longer in bloom and smaller than I remember.

There’s a buzz about the group, like being together all these years later in the schoolyard brings with it some life-changing magic. Like time’s worn thin tonight and we can almost reach out and touch our school selves.

“Hailey and Michael!!” Ramo shouts incredibly loud. My 40 minute bet shrinks to 20. “Official Mr. And Mrs!! Let’s fucking go!!!”

They all take off down the field, open bottles dangling from their hands, jackets and gowns flying in the wind as they go.

I take off after them, laughing as a bubble of relief flows up from my lungs. It was just like before, running across the school field with my mates, laughing and shouting random shite into the world.

I glance to my side and y/n’s pumping her legs but falling behind the group. I hold out my hand without thinking but she comes to a full stop. So do I.

“These fucking heels.” She peels them off and sighs in relief, tossing them to the side and taking a swig of her wine bottle.

“You might need those later.”

“Fuck those heels!” She shouts louder.

I laugh and hold out my hand, “We’re falling behind. C’mon!”

She grabs it and we run to catch up, and I’m grinning so hard I feel like my cheeks are going to split. This might be an illusion of a moment I could only dream of but I didn’t care. Despite the night sky and nippy air, everything was sunny and golden.

The finish line was the cherry tree at the end of the yard and our friends pile around it, out of breath.

“Jesus I’ve got stitches,” Clara complains. “I’m never doing that again.”

Hailey giggles and wraps her arms around her husband. “I love all of you so much. Thanks for making this day so special.”

We all pour our love back to the couple. Alcohol and conversation begins to flow around the group and eventually I find y/n sitting beside me tugging at the grass.

“So you really don’t play anymore?” She asks softly after a while.

Her eyes are round and inquisitive as she asks, and I could drown in them. I think of everything I could tell her about not playing—how it made me think of her, how it hurt too much to play after a while, how that part of me was dead and I didn’t like to dredge it up anymore.

Instead I shake my head and leave it hanging, staring down into my lap.

“Why?” She whispers, edging closer to me so that our knees nearly touch. I wonder if she notices or if it even matters.

Again I think of all the reasons and my eyes fill with tears as I do. I’d shut away so much of myself because I had too much love for y/n that couldn’t go anywhere. I’d shut the love away and myself as well.

She taps my knee and I look up, her eyebrows scrunch together when she notices the tears.

“You were supposed to do big things with that guitar of yours,” she whispers to me. And it sounds exactly like something she would have said to me all those years ago. It’s too much. I take the bottle of wine sitting beside her and take a swig. She watches me with concern.

“Music,” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse. “Music didn’t really hold the same magic afterwards. After we…I stopped…speaking in it.”

“Well fuck. That makes me really sad.”

“It’s alright—numbers became my new language.”

“How depressing!”

I laugh and cut myself short when it nearly turns into a sob.

I was sitting with y/n after all these years, under the cherry tree, and she was farther away than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “For being a chicken. Leaving before you left me. Then I just watched you go.”

Y/n opens her mouth and closes it after a second. Voices from the group drift over to us, Michael discussing honeymoon plans, Clara showing Dinis photos of her daughter, someone talking about a teacher we all hated.

“That was really sweet what you said to Clara earlier,” y/n says. It’s so random it takes me a second to recall.

“Oh yeah. Well she was always fussing over your friends like a mum. At least whenever I hung out with all of you.”

“She did. Makes sense she’s the first of us to be a mum. Although it wasn’t really planned—I’m really glad it turned out like this for her in the end.”

I nod, unsure where this was going.

“Har I-“ y/n’s voice sticks and she quiets again. It kills me to wait instead of telling her to spit it out.

“Y/n,” I say gently when she presses her lips together and doesn’t speak. I nudge her knee this time. “What?”

Our eyes meet and a galaxy of things rush between us. Memories, like distant stars, flicker with joy and pain. We’re caught between them—caught in the gravitational pull of the past and the very solid present of each other.

“I…I was hurting so bad after. After you said-after we broke up. I forgot you were probably hurting too. That the hurt could have always lingered too.” Y/n admits.

I forget to breathe as a constellation of emotions pools in our eyes, an ache from the unspoken admission that maybe we had missed each other all of this time.

“We were so young,” y/n continues. She picks at the grass. I imagine it helps feel in controls amidst the emotional storm happening between us.

“We were.”

“So free,” she laughs a little.

“Yeah. Too free. I don’t think I realized what I wanted until it was too late.”

“You had the whole summer,” the soft accusation cuts deep. I feel the gravity of how much it affected her.

“I was so scared of the hurt I…”

“Yet we hurt anyway.”

Those four words suck the oxygen out of my lungs, I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to.

We sit in another silence, I think about the version of us that didn’t leave the cherry tree separately. The version that kept holding on.

Maybe there could be a version of us that comes back to the cherry tree and leaves together this time. That thought spurs me into action.

I stand and brush the grass off my pants. Y/n watches me with a confused expression.

I hold my hand out to her for the second time that evening.

“Dance with me under the cherry tree?”

She flushes as our friends quiet down. But she grips my hand and I pull her up towards me.

“Really?” She whispers.

“Where’s the music?” One of our friends asks and as we begin our slow dance a phone breaks out in a slow number. It makes y/n giggle.

“This is incredibly cheesy.”

“Just embrace it.” I tell her. “The last time we were here-“

“We don’t have to keep talking about it,” she looks up at me. “It was so long ago. We can’t change the past. We really were young and we just have to-“

“Y/n,” I cut her off. “We were young but our love was real.”

This leaves her speechless. She simply furrows her brows and blinks away whatever emotion it pulls forth. And with her arms locked tightly behind me and my arms on her waist, we continue to sway. A quiet yearning defying time and distance fills the space between us; even as I pull her flush against me and she buries her face in my neck.

“That’s more like it,” I can hear Abe say in the back with a whistle before everyone laughs and goes back to chattering.

“So,” y/n says softly after a while. “When I blew you off at the wedding you were going to say something.”

I hardly remember. I was going to say a lot and I was probably a few drinks in.

“I lied.” She continues. “I tried to forget about you. I held onto the anger so I wouldn’t hurt when I thought about you. Then I looked you up every once in a while expecting some musical thing attached to your name but I never did see anything—now I know why.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“So you really stopped after we broke up?”

“Yes,” I say again. “I tried that summer but everything sounded like…like a donkey trying to sing. I gave up on it ever sounding good again.”

“That’s a shame Harry,” she says and I know she means it but I don’t want to focus on me.

“So you looked me up did you?”

“Don’t start on that,” she flushes. I drop it but not the smile on my face. She notices and buries her face into my shoulder.

We continue swaying to whatever song was queued on our friends’ phone. It feels like we’re all 17 again and staying up later than our parents would like. It felt like we were all young and free, not 20-somethings sitting around our married friends.

“I can’t believe we’re all back here again.” I comment.

“I know. Feels fake. Especially being back here, with you.”

“I hope this is alright?” I pause but y/n tightens her grip.

“It is. Y’know no matter how many people filled the space after you.” Y/n says. “It was never you.”

My breath catches. Was she saying-

“Incoming!” Someone shouts and before I can ask where the group erupts in chaos. People run every way I’m surprised nobody bumps heads.

“What!?” I say just as a flashlight beam cuts across my face. The police. “Oh fuck! Let’s go!”

I grab y/n’s hand and we run away from whatever authority was stalking towards us with flashlights.

It’s just like the old days.

“Harry!” I hear Thomas yell up ahead and I veer to the right towards it.

“Ow! Shit!” I hear y/n shout behind me before she releases my hand.

“What? What are you doing?!” I rush back to her.

She’s picking a rock out of her foot, behind her the lights grow closer.

“Those fucking heels!” I shout.

“Bad decision!” She tosses another pebble off her foot.

“No time! Get on!”

“What?” She freezes but I turn around and crouch, tugging her arms around me so she can get the hint. She loops her legs around my waist and even though I’m slowed down we somehow make it, laughing and stumbling, towards Thomas and Abe. They wave at us from just beyond the school ground and once we make it in the clear we head back to the venue and our parked cars.

“That was insane,” they gush.

“Felt like the golden years,” I grin.

“The fucking golden years,” they laugh.

“Okay designated drivers,” Michael says when he catches sight of us. “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a final round of bidding the newlyweds adieu and waving them off. I look for y/n once they blink out of sight.

“I came with Jamie,” she wraps her arms around herself.

I take my jacket off and drape it around her. I’m transported to doing the exact same thing after house parties because y/n would complain that a jacket would ruin her outfit and then walk home shivering.

“What if you go home with someone else?” I ask.

“You’ve got a car?”

“No,” I regret not driving myself now. “I came with one of the boys.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you staying?” She asks.

“Uhm…I came from my flat. Near Shoreditch.”

“Oh right.” She looks away. “You live in the city…right. I’m staying at my mum’s.”

“That’s not too far. My parents still live down the road from yours.”

“I know,” she smiles. “What if you dropped me home? And I invite you in?”

“Y/n,” I tug her closer. “What’s this you’re suggesting?”

“Staying?”

The sight of her, the feel of her, her scent and her perfect hand on my chest envelop me. I couldn’t say no; I was under her spell.

“That would turn this amazing evening into an amazing weekend.”

“And who knows what comes next,” she whispers as I lean the rest of the way. I want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t respond. She simply stretches up and presses her lips to mine. My heart collects itself and explodes in an explosion of slime.

She feels the exact same, tastes the same, but the confidence is new. It makes me dizzy. I want her even more.

“Get a fucking room!” Thomas says from behind. “Are you two gonna need a ride or planning on shagging in the bushes over there?”

I flip him off and finish the perfect kiss, using every bit of my willpower as y/n’s hand trails down my neck and back to my chest.

“Go on,” I say without even looking at my friends. “We’ve got an after after party.”

“Gross,” someone grumbles behind us.

“G’night!” Y/n shouts and with our chests heaving we break apart, grab hold of each other’s hands, and begin the walk to her house.

We walk in silence—our hands swinging between us tells you everything you need to know about how we were feeling.

At her front door y/n smiles up at me. It feels like deja vu, standing in her doorway with her looking at me like that. Knowing we were going to her bedroom just to get in bed. Time folds in on itself as I press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m so glad I couldn’t stay angry tonight,” she strokes my face. “I would’ve missed all this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m glad my mug’s so handsome it wore you down.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “It wasn’t the mug. Although it is even more handsome than the last time I saw it.”

I kiss her, “Mmm then what was it that wore you down?”

“I dunno,” she sighs. “You? Us?”

Us.

“Whatever it was, I’ll make sure to write it a thank you note. Now why don’t you open that door because my hands are not going to stay PG for very long. And I’m pretty sure your mum’s got one of those camera doorbells.”

“Oh god,” she whips around and laughs before slapping a hand to her mouth. “Sorry mum!”

We stifle our laugh and step inside. Deja vu comes rushing at me again at the familiarity of her home.

As we sneak up to her room I think about what y/n said. It was true, even though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Despite how we felt at the beginning of the night it was always going to end this way. Something about us was always meant to come back to each other.

You. Us. Her.

It was always her.