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1d1195 · 3 months ago

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Two Negatives

~9.8 k words

From me: I promise it’s not going to be about math that much. This is an academic rivals sort of thing. It’s going to have at least two follow ups but this is the whole story overall. I think there are parts of it that are kind of hand-wavy and whatnot. Not completely connected or explained.

Warnings: Maybe if you read this the right way you may notice that Harry's a little bit of a sugar-daddy. Low self-esteem, cheating, mentions of sex stuff.

Summary: Harry loves annoying the girl in his classes. She's an easy target. And more often than not, she teases him right back.

Which Harry is an absolute sucker for.

“Hey,” he hissed.

She ignored him. Instead, her gaze bounced back between the board where Professor Charles was writing on the whiteboard and the paper in front of her alongside her notebook, dated and titled ready to jot down any issues she had as they worked through the new material.

Something hit the back of her head. Nothing that hurt. But she felt it in her hair. Probably a gum wrapper. Or maybe the actual piece of gum. She wouldn’t have been surprised. She reached behind her head without looking, grateful it wasn’t a piece of gum, and she dropped the wrapper in her bag beside her to dispose of later.

He dropped his calculator off his desk (flung it was more accurate) so it landed right by her foot. She didn’t flinch as it clattered and ignored the curious peeks of others looking at her like she was the one causing the noise.

“Give me a pencil,” he was right next to her, grabbing his calculator.

“Go fuck yourself,” she whispered so quietly she wondered if Harry could even hear her.

“Please! I forgot!”

“You always forget,” she hissed back.

Professor Charles cleared his throat. She glared at her paper as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How dare Harry embarrass her in front of her professor because he was too stupid to bring his own pencil again. She placed dots on her graph as her professor did, stabbing at her paper a little too hard. Pretending it was Harry’s Voo Doo doll. Just so it would stop. So he would stop. But no. He was still knelt beside her.

“Mr. Styles, is everything alright?” Professor Charles asked.

“Yup, just tying m’shoe,” he said and stood up with a grin. That grin probably got Harry out of a speeding ticket, especially if he was pulled over by a female officer. Probably got him out of homework when he was in school because he knew how to make anyone feel flattered and good about themselves.

That stupid, pretty smile of his with the most adorable dimples probably melted any woman that looked his way.

Professor Charles rolled his eyes as he turned back to the whiteboard. At the same time Harry plucked her pencil from her grip mid stroke of the number eight she was writing. Before she could protest or even fully grasp that her writing utensil was stolen, Harry was back in his seat... right behind her. She took a deep breath and tilted her head to the ceiling trying to keep herself calm so she wouldn’t scream at him in front of everyone. So, she wouldn’t look like a lunatic. Why did he have to sit behind her? She reached into her bag and pulled out her pencil case and continued writing as if Harry hadn’t interrupted her at all.

She didn’t have a class following her lecture so she would have a second to breathe and eat, which wasn’t the case most days. Fortunately, she was head tutor at the academic center in the library which wasn’t far from the dining hall. It was also pretty easy going at the center, so she could eat while working. But it was always nice to pretend and be a regular student and eat in the hall. She listened to music and read her book. The only hour she got to read much these days. After tutoring, she would be headed to one more class before she was back to work at the college bar in the center of town.

Her schedule was mapped out to the minute. Her days filled to the brim with school and work. Because she didn’t have a choice. It was the same way every penny of her budget was scheduled and allotted for other things as well. It didn’t leave time for friends.

“Hey gorgeous.”

Well, one friend.

He pecked her cheek before sitting across from her. “Class good?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, how was yours?”

He reached over the table, held her hand, and skimmed his thumb along her knuckles. It was sweet. If it wasn’t so forced. “Good,” he smiled.

Isaac was an extremely handsome guy. He was popular, smart, and funny. His family had big plans for him and that was why he was on this prestigious college campus.

“Hi Isaac,” a flirtatious call sounded from across the room. He turned to find the culprit but came up short.

“By the door,” she said. Isaac turned releasing her hand as he did and waved at the girl who dissolved into giggles. After greeting the masses, he turned his attention back to her. “Can I suggest something?”

“Of course you can, girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really want to be with the kind of girl who will openly flirt with someone in a relationship?”

“I think everyone knows it’s a fake relationship.”

“Regardless,” she shrugged.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, my love,” he winked. He grunted when she tossed one leg over the other beneath the table and perhaps overshot just a hair.

She met Isaac on the first day of college. She was bringing her own stuff into her dorm room alone. His parents caught sight of her. Recognized her as she looked like her mom’s twin from way back when they all roamed this campus themselves. But unlike them, she was there under very different circumstances. She greeted them politely, smiled, and chatted as she knew best.

But Isaac approached her later that evening. She was sweaty from unpacking all alone. Her saving grace was a dorm room to herself. Perhaps the only lucky thing about her freshman year. This place screamed money. Money that she didn’t have anymore.

Isaac screamed money. “I need your help.” So, Isaac made sure she didn’t die of hunger and didn’t become a complete social pariah. Made sure she was taken seriously because of course this campus was littered with people who didn’t believe smarts could come without money.

In return, she was to be a doting girlfriend. When his parents were around, she was to be a fixture on his arm. Would it last forever? Probably not. But at least she would be okay for four years. She was kind, lovely, the exact kind of girl they expected their son to find and help keep him stable to take over his father’s company.

The kind of girl that would let Isaac be with whoever. Of course they had their moments. Like the lunch breaks such as the current one. Making appearances so that if anyone asked it wouldn’t be unheard of that they were together.

But she was no stranger to the whispers. That poor girl has no idea her boyfriend is cheating on her.

Fortunately, she didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Especially not one like Isaac. So, if her fake boyfriend was cheating on her, then at least she didn’t have to deal with it. Each time his parents came to town it wrecked her schedule. Wreaked havoc on her study time. Her work time. After three years, it was starting to feel like more of a give and less of a take in comparison to him.

But Isaac was nice enough. He still thanked her profusely—especially when his parents were in town. He didn’t use a lot of tongue when he kissed her in effort to keep up appearances. Knowing where his tongue had been, she was grateful.

“I’m not jealous,” she told him. “I care about you enough that I don’t want your heart to get broken.”

“You know I don’t have one of those.” She rolled her eyes. “You know, I’d be happy to throw you a bone, my love,” he leaned toward her, his eyes flirty and his smile lascivious.

She snorted. “Not even if you boiled it in disinfectant.”

“Orgasms help with stress.”

“I’m not lacking in orgasms. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kinky, baby,” he winked. “You actually got me hard,” he told her. He wasn’t trying to sleep with her so much as he was willing to sleep with her. When they first arrived at college there were several firsts that both needed to accomplish and well, the fake dating wasn’t the only thing they were able to help each other out with. But after three years of rumors and knowing what Isaac was like outside their fake relationship, she was glad she got to him before all of the rumors swarmed around her.

“I have to go to work,” she told him getting up from the table.

Isaac really was a nice friend. Lovely even. But only if they were really alone. As time wore on, he got cocky and annoying—especially in public. It seemed like he was doing more of a favor for her than she was for him (even though she stopped asking him for things almost a month into their arrangement—shortly after she heard a rumor of a threesome).

But his parents loved her. They didn’t ask questions about his schooling or dating life because of her sweet nature. Originally, she felt guilty over their lie. But now, she was resenting that part of him more and more. He was a pretty good friend. But he was a dick of a boyfriend. “Are y’hungry, baby?” He asked.

She shook her head, cheeks blushing, and anger tingling in her blood. She hated the way he spoke to her in public; he sounded so condescending. Not at all like the kind and caring boyfriend he was supposed to pretend to be or even the kind and sweet friend he was behind closed doors. “Shut up, Isaac,” she sighed. His ego played a massive part in their friendship. He was rich and popular. She was not. “You sound like a douchebag.”

He pressed his lips to her ear, wrapped his arm around her waist. If she was looking in from the outside, she was sure it looked cute and romantic. “Mm,” he hummed ignoring her insult. “Can feed you something later,” he winked.

She knew people were watching so she smiled, leaned toward his ear. “If you’re going to feed me, I need a full meal.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes and pecked her lips. “See you later, baby,” he kissed her softly again as he said it. “Gonna make sure you’re nice and full,” he promised loudly as he walked away. Not so loudly, that everyone would hear. But certainly loud enough for Harry Styles, who walked into the dining hall at that precise moment, to hear.

“Wow, bit extra for the dining hall,” Harry smirked. She glared at him, her cheeks warming.

“Don’t suppose you have my pencil?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his hands over his pockets. “Sorry Your Majesty,” he bowed in his over-the-top kind of way. “Clean out.” She rolled her eyes, grabbed her stuff, and made her way for the exit. Harry grabbed her hand at the last second pulling her back to look at him. “Y’okay?” He asked. “Y’look tired.”

She snatched her hand away. She was tired. But it didn’t feel good for it to be pointed out that she looked tired. “Thanks, I guess,” she rolled her eyes again. “I’m going to go now before you have a chance to insult me again.”

“Hey,” he frowned and called after her again as she continued walking away. “M’serious. Y’look like you’re getting sick.”

It was extremely unfair that Harry noticed that. “Are you concerned about me, Styles?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“Someone has t’remember t’bring me a pencil.”

“You could very much bring your own pencil.”

“Well, then I wouldn’t get t’have these lovely conversations every day, would I, Your Majesty?” She shook her head and ignored him as he continued speaking to her. “Hope he fucks y’good and full or whatever,” he called. She glared but refused to look back at him.

Harry appeared in one of her classes on the first day of her second year. A transfer from another school. His smile was panty-melting. Truly. Even she could recognize that. But regardless of how pretty he was, it was obvious how annoying he was going to be. He slid into the seat right behind her. “Hi,” he smiled. She ignored him, focusing on her professor starting class syllabus stuff. Besides, it seemed unlikely that someone like Harry was talking to her. “M’Harry,” he whispered.

She started scribbling on her notebook.

“He hasn’t even started yet,” he mumbled.

“Can I help you?” She turned around to look at him.

His smile was breathtaking. It really felt like he stole the breath from her lungs. “Sorry, Your Majesty. Didn’t mean t’interrupt y’doodle. Do y’have an extra pencil?” He asked.

She stared at the twenty-year-old man in his second year of college unprepared for his first day of classes. Perhaps if she rolled her eyes and ignored him, the trajectory of her life might have been something else entirely.

Instead, she handed her pencil to him.

“Thanks, Your Majesty.”

She rolled her eyes, anyway, facing forward.

In her Abstract Algebra class Harry was right behind her once more. “Psst.”

She ignored him. But his body was closer, his voice was closer. “Your Majesty,” he practically sang.

“What is your deal?” She hissed.

“I need a pencil.”

“Bring your own.”

“I like the one y’gave me. It wrote so smooth.”

She doesn’t know why she gave him a pencil.

But she really did know.

Harry was obviously handsome and from the way he chuckled under his breath over the lame jokes their professors made, he was quick and probably funny in his own way. But moreover, he had to be intelligent. Really intelligent to understand a pun about probability theory. The way others in the class fawned over him (guys and girls alike) it was apparent he was popular. Maybe popular like Isaac which made her dislike him just a bit.

It went that way every class. Harry was in four out of five of her classes both the fall and spring semester. Every class he needed a pencil. Each day he thanked her in his ridiculously attractive accent. Your Majesty.

What a dick.

But Harry talked to her. Even if it was just asking for a pencil. Or a picture of the notes he missed from when he went to the bathroom. He didn’t care that her family was broke. That she was broke. That she worked three jobs and hardly slept. He didn’t make her feel like she didn’t deserve to be on that campus.

“Did y’get the answer t’number nine?” It wasn’t a trick; he wanted her answer. Her opinion. “I got two different answers three different ways. There was no judgment that she couldn’t afford the extravagant lifestyle that her peers did. She had one winter coat. Not six to match her outfits. She didn’t have a car. She didn’t go out to eat and she made her own coffee except for on Saturdays when she splurged and treated herself to her favorite bagel and her favorite coffee.

Maybe it was because she saw him at a party. A girl at his side, smiling at him. Twirling her hair and touching his pretty chest. It was effortless. She didn’t have to try to flirt with Harry. It was a given. Rich, popular, perfectly pretty. The same as Harry.

Everything she wasn’t. Everything Harry would never want.

So she tended to Isaac. Kept to herself.

Gave Harry an absurd number of pencils.

Which continued into their third year. Where things got busier, harder, and more overwhelming.

But Harry was always right behind her. Asking for a pencil. Making her cranky.

But always making her feel normal when no one else did.

It was obvious Harry had money. The key on his ring had a symbol for a car that would never be in her price range. His clothes were pretty, the latest trends. Even his sweatpants looked like they were designer.

Maybe it could have been that way for her. Maybe if her dad hadn’t embezzled all their money. Hadn’t gone to jail and left her and her mother with anything more than a penny. Growing up she didn’t feel rich, but she never wanted. But right as she was applying to colleges, with only one college campus that made her heart happy, it was the first time in her life she thought about and hated money.

She imagined no one on campus ever felt that way.

But even if Harry had the nicest clothes and the nicest car, he never flaunted what he had. Not even to his friends. He didn’t show off or act like he had a ton of money. He was just there.

Which is why perhaps, when he annoyed her to pieces, she didn’t mind giving him a pencil in the end.

It was a bad day. She missed her mom. She was exhausted. Didn’t have time to make herself a coffee which just felt criminal. The test on her mind nearly brought her to tears as she sat down in her seat, seconds before her professor walked in.

Her pencil case was empty.

Part of her felt sad she wouldn’t have a pencil for Harry. Would he ask someone else? Would he stop asking her because of it? God, why did she even care? It was a blessing. He would stop asking her. She wouldn’t have to keep wasting money she didn’t have on pencils.

Plus, he wasn’t even there.

The test landed on her table. Her brain felt weary. Was she getting sick? Probably. Stress did a number on her immune system. It was a miracle she wasn’t sick all the time.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes she tried to calm her mind. It wasn’t the time to think about the reading she needed to complete, the shift she was covering at the academic center, or the dinner she was really looking forward to splurging on. It had been ages since she had chicken in her pasta dish.

“Hey,” how long were her eyes closed? How did she miss him coming to his seat.

“I don’t have a pencil, Harry,” she hissed back.

“Of course, y’do,” she could hear his eye roll.

“I don’t, I forgot my pencil case.”

He snorted. Her eyes flicked to Professor Charles who didn’t look up from his own paper at the front of the room. “C’mon, quit being a brat.”

“A brat?” She whispered.

“Quiet,” Professor Charles still didn’t look up.

“Sorry Your Majesty, jus’ give me a pencil and—”

“I don’t have one!” Her voice was quiet and maybe if she wasn’t only two rows from the front of the room, it wouldn’t have been a big deal when he pulled it out of her grip.

But she was towards the front.

Professor Charles stood beside their desks. “You’re both excused.”

Her face felt hot and pale at the same time. She felt like she was going to throw up. The feeling of eyes on her made her more embarrassed than the time she tripped and fell at her third-grade band concert. “Professor Charles,” she started.

“Enough,” he snagged her paper from her desk. Her throat felt tight, her eyes prickled, and she thought that maybe in a different life she could have been friends with Harry. Liked him, even.

But not then.

She bit on her lip to keep from crying as she packed her stuff into her bag and marched out of the room, head held high, and ignoring everyone’s stare. Especially the guy following her out of the classroom.

She slapped the door to the building as Harry continued following her. She was fuming. Practically steaming from his perspective. Yet he couldn’t help but think she looked absolutely adorable. “Quit fucking following me!” She snapped.

“My God, you’re so uptight,” he rolled his eyes.

“Harry Styles, you’re an absolute dick. Just leave me the fuck alone, for God’s sake.”

It garnered the attention of a few onlookers. But their path to the dining hall was quiet given it was the middle of class time. "Jesus Christ, do y’ever jus’ take a break? S’one fuckingtest, Your Majesty. For fuck’s sake. He’ll probably drop it. Quit being a baby."

A sniffle. One small, tiny noise.

"You don't get it do you?" She snapped. She didn’t want to. But she couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was too much. The final straw.

In the entire time Harry had known her he had never seen her this upset. Not like this. Not to the point where she was crying.

Because of him.

He made her cry.

"I have a squeaky-clean record. I have to be perfect all the time. I can't let one hair be out of place. I can't get one bad grade. If I do, then everyone around me makes comments and they assume it’s because I have no money. The poor girl can’t hack it here. It's this massive pressure on me all the time. I can't get caught doing normal party things. I can't get caught cheating on a test, Harry. I can’t. I lose my scholarship if I don't maintain my GPA. I can hardly afford to be here, Harry. I have to work three jobs. I have to budget every minute of my time as much as every dollar of my bank account. Do you know I haven't been home in three years? I miss my mom so much and I can’t even afford to go see her and I just pretend because—” she covered her mouth and Harry swallowed hard, willing himself to not cry as well. This wasn’t about him. This was all about her right now. “And now,” she croaked. “I’m going to have to skip dinner because I need to buy new pencils because I have been giving them to someone who’s too fucking inconsiderate to even fucking return them after annoying me for no better reason that for kicks.”

Her sniffles turned into sobs and Harry had never felt like more of an ass. He thought she was annoying at worst, but he never wanted her to cry.

Her crying, all her tears, they were all his fault.

"I study so hard. I have to. But I want to. I want to make enough money to support my mom, and I can’t do one thing wrong because if I do then I’ll lose everything. I have to study. I’m not like you, Harry. You just know everything and that's amazing, Harry, it really is,” and for the first time since he started interacting with her, Harry felt horrible for the way he had treated her. The compliment she gave was so thoughtful. The kindness in her voice was unmissable. He was practically shocked it even came from her mouth. “But not all of us are gifted with insane intelligence like you. Not all of us are God's gift to women and can go out and party and not be judged for kissing someone I like. Not all of us can afford to be here without help."

Harry kept his lip between his teeth to keep from speaking.

“I’ll get over it,” she sniffed. “Sorry for being so uptight.” She wiped her face and stalked off toward her dorm.

Harry had never felt worse about himself.

She wore her best interview dress. Her hair was pinned precisely so that the pieces that constantly flew away were at bay. She swallowed the rock that formed in her throat as she knocked on her professor's office door.

"Come in."

"Professor Charles," she was grateful he didn't look up because she was worried, she was going to curtsey or something equally ridiculous. "I wanted to apologize—"

"Your boyfriend already came to tell me he's at fault for the fiasco in class. He took full responsibility and said it was extremely unfair of me to refuse you the exam."

Her heart skipped a beat. "M-my boyfriend?" She whispered.

"Mr. Styles is very bold and I suppose I was a bit harsh. You are a brilliant young woman and role model to your peers," he praised. "Would you like to take the test now or schedule another time?" He asked looking up from his work.

She swallowed. "Um..."

"I would appreciate it, if you took it now. I need an answer key to grade the rest of them," his voice was steady, but she felt the compliment down to her bones. "I have a class in two hours, and I was hoping to check grading off my to-do list before it started," he explained.

She felt uneasy, overwhelmed, but not like she did when she sat down the first time to take the same exam. "I can do it now," she whispered and dropped her bag at her feet and situated herself at the table on the side of his office below the window. She got to work and completed the test as if all it asked was for her to write the alphabet down. She was checking over her work when she glanced out the window and saw the sprawling campus. There were people walking by at fast clips. Eager to get to the dining halls and rushing to make it to their classes on time.

But in the midst of all the people running by, there was Harry, sitting on a bench. His arm stretched across the back of it, while the other held his phone. He crossed his feet at his ankles and looked like a model for relaxation.

He took the complete blame for the test. She felt her heart aching and she stood from the table and went over to her professor's desk. "Is... Mr. Styles able to retake the exam as well?"

"I wasn't planning on it," he looked up at her. "Why?"

She bit her lip, looked at her feet. "I could have just given him a pencil."

"Mr. Styles should be prepared for his own education," he said knowingly. There was no way she was going to explain her relationship with Harry to her professor. Plus, she wasn't sure she'd be able to. She dropped her gaze and handed off her exam. "You can tell Mr. Styles he can come up and take the test," he said simply. "I have the answer key now."

She blinked.

"He'll probably ace it as well, but your handwriting is neater," he shrugged, tipped his glasses further down his nose and silently read her answers. She stood still, like she was waiting for the danger to pass. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?" He asked glancing back up. She shook her head, pinned to her spot. The strangeness of it all was overwhelming. "Men like Mr. Styles are going to have it a lot easier than you. The field you’ve selected is male-dominated and many will sell you short because of your gender," he said. "That doesn't mean you need to worry about your worth," he assured her. "You are a brilliant, hardworking, and talented individual. Mr. Styles should be bringing you pencils to class."

Her cheeks felt warm.

"Also, to be fair, it's nice to know you're not cheating off of each other because it was getting a little suspicious," he turned her exam back across his desk and wrote her score at the top of her page, upside down—98%. "Missed a negative."

"If Harry misses it, can you knock off more points?" She asked before she could stop herself then felt herself blush at how ready she was to throw him under the bus. She looked down shyly and covered her mouth before she looked up at him again.

Her strict professor made a face that resembled somewhat of a smile. "Of course."

“Thank you,” she hoped she sounded as gracious as she felt.

“Great work,” he nodded in response.

She headed out of the office and walked toward the bench. She sat beside him and faced forward. Harry put his phone back in his pocket and turned only his head toward her. "How'd y’do?" He asked.

"Ninety-eight."

He tutted. "Too bad," he smirked.

A smile twitched at her lips. She looked up at the sky briefly. "He said you can go on up and take it now," she told him.

He blinked. Surprise coloring his pretty features. Harry rarely seemed stunned, especially because of her. It was cute and also exciting that he was surprised by her. "What?"

She looked at her lap, trying to focus on her nails but not for too long because she was worried that she would gnaw on them if she let the nerves overtake her. "That was... the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," she whispered. "Especially for Professor Charles' class," she continued. Taking a deep breath, she looked at him. "I was obnoxious. Bad day or whatever... it wasn't your fault and I’m sorry I made a big deal of it."

"I just wanted you to stop crying. You look ridiculous when you cry."

She smiled. A genuine one. Not a forced one that Harry had seen her give everyone under the sun. Not the one that she plastered on her face during presentations. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. “Y’had every right t’be mad at me. I was a complete dick.”

She shrugged. “I... I should have just given you a pencil... it turned out there was one at the bottom of my bag and... I kind of... like giving you a pencil. You just caught me at a really bad moment.”

“I know. M’sorry. I knew y’looked off.”

She tilted her head at him. “You knew I looked off?”

“M’pretty good at memorizing all your different looks,” he had a smile that made her melt. “Like right now, s’one of m’favorites. Y’look relaxed. It happens once, roughly, every three weeks, I think. Lasts maybe four minutes if m’lucky,” he winked. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. But Harry noticed how her cheeks turned red. It made him want to continue flirting with her. She was fun to flirt with. Her sarcastic comments were funny, even when directed at him, and it only amplified how smart he knew she was.

As much as Harry wanted to stay on that bench for as long as she did, he finally stood. Then rubbed the back of his head squinting at her, one eye closed. "Do you have a pencil?" He asked shyly.

She snorted, plucked hers from her pocket, and held it out to him. "I'd like it back," she reminded him. Even if he didn't, it was their thing now.

He rolled his eyes. "Wait here. It'll only take me half the time it took you." She rolled her eyes but pulled out a book from her bag and opened it to the page she was previously reading. "Hey kitten?" He asked. She didn't look up and Harry realized he never called her anything other than Your Majesty. He nudged her foot to make her look up. "Who did y’think I was talking to?" He chuckled.

"Who me?" She asked, but Harry noted the way her cheeks turned red. He rolled his eyes. "Sorry," she shook her head. "Did you need something else?"

His expression softened and he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," her voice was so gentle. "I'm sorry too."

"There's nothing y'need t'apologize for,” he shook his head quickly. “I was a complete ass," he admitted. She shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he said seriously. “Please don’t let anyone treat you that way.” She nodded silently. Knowing that she couldn’t promise that. Nor did she expect Harry to make her keep such a promise, but it made her heart squeeze with disappointment in herself. “Be right back,” he nudged her foot again as he headed back to the math building. She returned to her book and tried not to think about how Harry was probably right. This was the most relaxed she felt in months.

About forty minutes later Harry exited the building, walking at a leisurely pace. He sat on the bench once more. She didn't look up as he did but the butterflies in her stomach reminded her that he was there. Harry draped an arm across the back of the bench and then presented her pencil to her as if it were a bouquet of flowers. "How'd you do?" She asked gently.

He sighed, clucked his tongue. "Ninety-five,” she smiled but tried and failed to hide it from him. "I missed two negatives."

She giggled. "How embarrassing."

"How embarrassing," he mocked in a voice that was meant to sound like her. "You're so annoying. Do y’know he uses your work as the answer key?"

It had to be a record. The longest time they had been together without bickering. The number of times she smiled because of him.

The fastest someone had ever fallen for someone she was supposed to hate.

When Harry saw her boyfriend, he started looking for her. He was clearly busy with his friends and the women they were entertaining. But she wasn’t amongst them. He did a loop around the party. Looking for her even if he shouldn’t have. He stopped and chatted during his search so it wouldn’t be obvious. But even when he did stop and leaned against the wall, or grabbed another drink, he kept scanning for her.

When his loop came up empty of the pretty girl he liked to annoy, he wondered where she was and how he could ask without it being weird.

“Hey stranger,” Eleanor smiled and kissed his cheek. “Where’ve you been?”

Louis gave a polite wave to his best friend from across the way, a knowing smile on his lips, grateful that someone he trusted could keep an extra eye on his lady.

“Jus’ wandering around,” he mumbled.

Did he sound disappointed? He felt disappointed.

She stared at him and stood on her toes to reach his ear so she could speak to him directly over the loud music. “She’s not here.”

“What?” Harry pulled back like she slapped him. Was it that obvious? It couldn’t have been. He was just… wandering. Like a lost, lovesick puppy wondering where she was and hoping he would find her to make the weird feeling in his chest go away. Eleanor cocked an eyebrow at him. Silently telling him that hewas not fooling her. “Fuck,” he mumbled sipping his drink. It was pathetic and obvious.

“She doesn’t come to these things,” Eleanor shrugged.

“Why?”

She sighed, rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t want her here.”

Harry felt like the words Eleanor said were spoken in a language he didn’t know. “Who doesn’t want her here?”

“Her boyfriend.”

The grip on the bottle Harry was holding tightened. “Oh.”

“Go ahead. Ask.”

“Ask what?”

“Harry.” He closed his eyes and looked around to find him. It was like he already knew it was going to break him. He didn’t want El to continue even though he knew he needed to hear it. “What he told her to keep her away? She dotes on him too much. Worries too much about her reputation and everyone else’s. She doesn’t have fun. So, he doesn’t want her here. At these kinds of things.”

Honestly, a party didn’t seem like her vibe. She was more of a game night kind of girl. Someone you could take to a family cookout or a pool party with kids. But calling her not fun? Because frankly, Harry realized he hadn’t liked a single party he’d been to in months and it’s because her banter wasn’t there to keep him company.

“Oh,” he murmured. Trying to feign indifference.

“Don’t you want to ask what I think?” Harry didn’t look at his friend. His eyes finally landing on the man that didn’t deserve the sweet, intelligent, and beautiful girl he didn’t invite. He followed his path up the stairs to the second floor. Right as Eleanor told him the worst thing he had ever heard. “He hooks up with other girls and he has the common decency to do it behind her back,” she shrugged.

“What?!” He spit his eyes dropping to Eleanor again. How could she be so casual about this?

“She knows…or I would imagine she suspects,” she shrugged. “But she’s good for his family. They adore her. And he helps her reputation. She’s trying so hard to dig her family—”

It was like he knew. Everything. All of it made sense. Every tiny fiber of her being was made for someone else—whether it was her family who she adored and helped as much as possible, Isaac who didn’t deserve her at all, or even Harry, who honestly wasn’t sure he was much better than Isaac. “Does she know he sleeps with them?”

Eleanor looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t know if they sleep with him. I’m assuming. But I think it’s a pretty good assumption. He’s probably—”

Harry slammed his bottle on the ground shattering it and drawing the attention of those around him. He took the stairs two at a time and opened every door to every room—an unspoken party rule: never open a closed door.

He was breaking it.

A girl shrieked and he just knew he had found the right room. He didn’t pay any attention to her scrambling to cover up her naked chest and instead yanked him clean off the bed. “What the fuck!?” Harry shoved him back into the hall. He was only in his boxers. Piece of shit. Someone whistled and Harry shoved him harder as he tried to push him back and make his way for the bedroom again. “What the fuck, Styles?!”

“Call her,” he snarled. Shoving him against the wall again when he tried to continue escaping. “End it. Now.”

“What are you—”

“You’re going t’cheat on her?” Harry’s voice was venomous. “Her?” He repeated. Like that was really all he needed to say. Everyone was staring now. Harry kept going. “Call her and end it. Or I’m going over and telling her you’re done.”

The stupid prick tilted his head at Harry almost condescendingly. “Do you want her? She’s not like us.”

Harry didn’t like the way he said us. There wasn’t a single connection he wanted to be associated with in context of the vile piece of trash in front of him. Other than he managed to pick the sweetest girl he had ever met. But simultaneously, the very wrong girl to fuck with, because Harry also picked her. Unlike the moron in front of him, he was going to do everything he could to protect her and her heart.

“She’s doesn’t have money. She won’t understand—”

Harry punched him across the cheek before he could stop it and someone else watching groaned at the impact and Harry continued talking. “Tell her now.”

“Christ, Styles! What the fuck!” He rubbed his jaw.

“Tell her.”

“I’m not telling her shit. She knows she needs me more.” Harry jerked back like he had punched him back. “What? You don’t think she’d give up the reputation I have, do you?”

Harry watched him silently for only a moment longer. Without a word, he headed back into the bedroom grabbing the stray clothes. Before anyone could rationalize exactly what he was doing, he was sprinting down the steps and outside.

He threw them in the pool without thinking, ignoring the laughter and shouts from him as he hurried around the side of the house. He continued running and didn’t look back.

Harry was in her dorm. On her floor. Stopped in front of her door.

He knocked.

Repeatedly.

There was no answer, but he knew she was there.

So, he knocked again.

And again.

Eventually there was a click of her lock despite the fact it couldn’t be opened without her key card. Of course she was all about safety. Finally, he heard her voice starting to speak as she opened the door. “I’m off duty if you have an emergency, you’re supposed to see the RA on duty and—” The door was open and out of the way before she finished talking. Harry pressed himself inside. “Harry! What are you—”

“Tell me s’not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“Y’know he hooks up with other women?” He glared at her.

The color drained from her face.

Harry rubbed his hand across his face. “What is the matter with you?! Are you so desperate for a scrap of affection you’ll open yourself up t’diseases and shit because you—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed tears stinging her eyes instantly.

“—need him? You don’t need him. You’re a thousand times better than him. A million! Y’could have any guy y’want, and they would still want t’grovel at your feet. Why would y’pick the one Goddamn asshole who—”

“You don’t know shit. Harry Styles. Stop pretending like you know me because —”

“Then explain it t’me because I can’t think of one fucking reason someone as intelligent, kind, beautiful, and hilarious as you would—”

A weird noise left her throat. Almost a squeak. It was adorable. If Harry wasn’t so mad. He would have told her such. Would have reveled in it because she was so fucking sweet and cute. But instead, she asked the most heartbreaking question known to man.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Her question was so soft. So unbelievably shocked. Innocent. All the words left his head. It was too quiet. His shoulders were rising and falling too hard and too fast. “What?” He shook his head.

She looked at her feet. Harry scanned her. Her shirt was too big. It didn’t look like she was wearing pants. Maybe she wasn’t. Harry hoped she wasn’t. She only wore one sock. Like she lost the other in her sheets or maybe she only purposefully put one on because only that foot was cold. Those pretty eyes looked at him, anxiety, frustration, sadness, all staring back at him from the depth of her soul. “No one has ever said I’m beautiful before.”

Harry felt something die in his chest. He really thought he would start groveling on his knees for her because he was one of millions of guys who wanted to grovel at her feet. He wanted to be better. As soon as he made her cry over missing a test, he wanted nothing more than to be better for her. “No one?”

“Just... my family...” She shrugged.

“Kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “You’re… you’re really beautiful,” he rubbed a hand over his mouth, pinching his lower lip, as he scanned her. “In a way that probably makes a lot of girls jealous,” she snorted. He sighed. “Seriously. Your hair, kitten. It’s... so silky and shiny and your eyes,” he shook his head. “And your brain, my God,” he smiled softly. “M’not even going t’mention your body. Because you’re more than your appearance, but m’really...” he nearly sighed like a lovesick teenager. Maybe part of him still was. “You’re stunning, kitten.”

She blushed. Really blushed. So hard that Harry could see it in the dim light of her room cast from the twinkly lights she had strung around the window. Her cheeks were so red and utterly beautiful. For a second Harry thought it would be easy. All of it. Getting her to like him. Trust him.

Her face morphed into one of utter distrust. “That’s mean,” she whispered. “You’re... that’s mean to...” she shook her head.

“Kitten,” he frowned. Unable to believe she could think like that. He didn’t even know where to begin. Everyone had to like her. She was lovely, beautiful, so intelligent it took his breath away.

But she mistook his hesitation for the worst. She shook her head. “Forget it. You’re just... being nice to me because... because you feel bad or something,” she sniffled. The poor thing couldn’t even take his compliment. Harry wanted to cry. “Just the way everyone else does,” she laughed bitterly. “Thank you for being nice. Or whatever. For wanting to protect me. I don’t need it,” her voice cracked. “You can go back to your party or... whatever it is that—”

“Love,” his heart felt achy.

“No seriously. I get it. I’m too nice. I’m stupid to let him walk all over me but you don’t know the kind of reputation my family has in comparison to everyone here. So yeah. I let him use me as a prop—”

“Stop it,” he snapped and shook his head.

“—because I’m good for his image, too. Even if it makes me miserable and—”

“Kitten, I’m serious. Stop it,” his voice was almost raw. Like he had been screaming for hours. Maybe it was the combination of anxiety and frustration rushing through him. Like adrenaline but worse. He wanted to cry.

“—it’s pathetic that when people see me with him, they see this innocent—”

“Shut. Up.”

“—intelligent girl who doesn’t know anything because her family is poor and broken—”

“Stop it!” His voice took on a new octave. It made her words fall away.

They were both seething with anger and frustration. The tears in her eyes made him sick. Like when he made her cry because she couldn’t take her test. It was only the second time, but he quickly realized he hated it when she cried. “Stop what, Harry?”

“Stop minimizing who you are,” he practically growled.

“Everyone else does it.”

“Oh yeah? Name one time I’ve done that. If everyone has done it; tell me, kitten. When have I. Ever. Made you feel like less?”

She was silent. Finally.

Harry never made her feel like less. He annoyed the shit out of her. Pissed her off and made her sad. But he never made her feel like she didn’t deserve to be on that campus. Never made her feel inferior.

“M’going t’kiss you,” he warned stepping closer to her now that he made his point.

Her brain restarted. Her cheeks flushed again. “Harry, we can’t I’m... in a relation—”

He glared at her as her back pressed to her bed frame. Cornering her in her open room that was suddenly infinitesimally smaller than it was seconds before. “S’not a fucking relationship,” he snarled. “M’not sure what y’were doing. But you’re not doing it anymore. Not with him. Never again.”

“But we were—”

“Y’don’t need him,” he assured her. “Trust me.”

“But—”

“Y’have me, kitten. M’gonna do whatever y’need,” he cupped the back of her neck, making the words stop on the tip of her tongue and put one hand on the small of her back, pulling her to him swiftly and devouring her lips. She moaned instantly, seconds into the kiss. His lips felt like warm little pillows. Cushioning her own. It was intoxicating. Unfairly, he pulled away almost as quickly as it started. “Oh s’nice, kitten,” he praised. “Moaning already,” he pulled back and peppered kisses along her jaw. She whimpered softly, making him groan. “Y’make pretty little noises like that, kitten. M’not gonna be responsible for what comes next,” he warned pressing his lips back to hers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair at the back of her head. Harry leaned forward arching her backward and wrapping his arms around her tightly. He didn’t want to be aggressive, but there was something in the way her mouth tasted, the way her body felt, that he couldn’t stop kissing her. Hardly breathing, or maybe he was trying to breathe all of her in, he continued pulling her lips into his mouth. Hoping that somewhere along the way, they would get stuck like that. Destined to spend eternity attached by their kiss like a Greek punishment. Except the endless touch of her mouth wouldn’t be punishment. Because he wanted it to be endless. Wanted to spend forever showering her with affection because she deserved that and so much more.

“Can I stay the night, kitten? I’ll sleep on the floor if y’want,” his voice was practically ragged. His forehead pressed to hers. “I jus’ don’t want t’leave you. Please don’t make me leave.”

“You can stay,” she whispered, her voice breathless and airy. “Not on the floor, though.”

“M’not a bat, kitten. Can’t hang from your ceiling,” he joked.

She snorted. “C’mon,” she tugged him to her bed and pulled her in right behind her beneath her covers.

There weren’t many times Harry felt peace. “Harry?” She asked, as she settled into his embrace. His lips skimmed along her face, pressing every so often to whatever he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He squeezed her. “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

She sighed. “Your mouth is pretty nice when you’re not talking,” she said quietly.

He chuckled. “Just you wait and see, kitten.”

As lovely as the night before was, she tried to maintain a semblance of her routine between replaying the kiss(es) and the angry confession over and over in her head. At the moment, she was grabbing lunch for herself. It was probably going to set her back a bit since she’d need to buy more pencils since Harry stole them all, but she was a little too tired to go without supplying herself with more energy. She pulled her wallet out as the cashier rang her up. “It’s all set, love,” she said sweetly. Tilting her head, she gazed at the woman as if it were a joke.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s all set,” she repeated. “Your food’s been paid for already.”

She blinked, glanced around, looking for someone that fit the description of Good Samaritan. “Who...?”

“I’m not sure. I was just told that if you came through the line to tell you it’s been taken care of. You can get whatever you want,” she shrugged.

Blinking again she glanced around again. A line formed rapidly behind her. She gathered her items and headed for a seat. The one where Isaac usually joined her. But there was no Isaac. She read her book and listened to her music in silence. It was peaceful. When the hour was up, she headed back to the kitchen area to grab another snack, lining up behind the others waiting to check out as well. “Your food’s paid for.”

She felt like she was being pranked. “Again?”

“No, always.”

She felt like her mind was short circuiting. “What?”

“Your meals. All have been paid for. For the year.”

The snack she got was going to be uneaten because she felt like it was a prank. “I don’t understand.”

“I really don’t have more details than that. We were just told your food was paid for.”

“We?”

“My boss left, but I can have him reach out and explain it.”

“Please. Thank you.”

Stunned, she left with her snack. She headed to the library academic center. The tutors on her shift all waved to her. “That gift is for you,” Gabby said. At the front table was a fairly large giftbag. The kind you get for a kid’s birthday and put a board game in it. She looked at it curiously and pulled the tissue paper out of the way. She swallowed the lump in her throat realizing she didn’t need the dining hall manager to reach out to her after all.

She plucked the card from the slot on the side of the bag.

Half are probably for me anyway.

The bag was filled with packages of her favorite pencils. More than she would need for the rest of her undergraduate degree. Maybe even graduate. Or even the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath and pulled out her laptop and opened her email. She typed in Harry’s address, because she still didn’t have Harry’s phone number. Even after making out with him for hours. After waking up in his arms later than she was supposed to and letting his lips linger on her skin.

She wrote her message and pressed send before she could overthink it.

You didn’t have to do that. It’s way too much, actually. I’m a little uncomfortable imagining you spending THAT much money on food and pencils.

Well. If you died of starvation, I wouldn’t have anyone to bother. Kind of a boring way to suffer through the last two years of college—we have Real Analysis I and II next year. I can’t do that alone.

Thank you. That was... very nice of you.

You’re welcome, kitten. Coffee is free too; I went to every shop within walking distance and left your picture. An old ugly one from your mom’s Facebook page, don’t worry. Didn’t want you to get a big head about all of this. It’s not a big deal.

Help yourself to whatever you need and if you need something else let me know.

And this is my phone number so you can stop emailing me like it’s 2003.

She smiled fondly at the message. Closed her laptop and felt happier to be at work than she had in weeks.

Harry didn’t force anything. She was lying against his chest in her small room, on her small bed. “I’m sorry it’s so cramped,” she whispered.

“S’better for snuggling,” he shrugged and kissed the top of her head. “Go t’sleep, please, kitten.”

“Don’t you want to... I don’t know, fuck or something?”

“Well, when y’propose it so romantically like that,” he murmured.

She pouted. “I don’t know... I just assumed that...”

“That m’like Isaac? Please don’t make that assumption anymore.”

“So, you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Oh, more than anything,” he tilted her head up and brushed his finger on her warm cheek. “But not until you’re ready.”

“I literally just—”

“No. Y’think s’because we’re supposed to. Not because y’want to,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll wait,” he promised and kissed the tip of her nose, and it was the lamest kind of kiss imaginable. Being twenty-one and melting over a kiss on the nose.

Yet it made her want a thousand more of them. Made her want to cry with how adored she felt. Harry didn’t care that she worked a thousand hours. He didn’t expect her to make out with him. Or blow him. Or anything sexual. No, he practically begged her to sleep in his arms.

It was unfair how sweet he was wrapped up in the body of someone that made her infuriated for the last year and a half. Right as she was about to pass out, she jerked herself awake involuntarily. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed as if she so much as coughed and not nearly punched Harry in the face with her movement.

“Tired.”

“I know, baby. M’trying t’make y’sleep,” he combed her hair down. Traced her spine in the same movement. “Surprise, surprise, you’re a bit stubborn.”

“Who me?”

“Want me t’sing?”

“Don’t want my ears to bleed, no.” Harry chuckled softly. Ignored her.

Then hummed.

It was so warm, so soft, it felt like magic. Harry could sing. That wasn’t on any Bingo cards when she thought about Harry. She didn’t even know what song he was singing. But it lulled her right to sleep.

Harry was wrapped around her in the small bed, his head tucked below her chin, his face smushed into the front of her shirt. If she wore a lower cut shirt, Harry would have been drooling on her boobs. “You’re able to breathe in there?” She whispered, threading her fingers through his hair.

“S’the only way I want t’go,” he promised, his voice muffled with sleep and the fabric on her body. “Or with y’legs wrapped around m’head,” he shrugged one shoulder. If Isaac said that to her, she would have punched him. When Harry said it, it made her want to wrap her legs around his head. Made her squeeze her legs together. “Felt that,” he mumbled. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, so he had no choice but to feel it. “Did y’sleep okay?”

She nodded. “Did you?”

“Extremely. Wrapped up in m’favorite girl.”

Her heart fluttered and she kissed the top of his head. Never would she have imagined Harry being so sweet and lovely like this. “Are you... going to be mean in public to me?”

“I hope not,” he pulled away and rubbed his eye. He looked sleepy and boyish. A devilish combination for her skeptical heart. “Have I been mean t’you?” He asked. “I know I tease, but mean?” She supposed he wasn’t mean. Maybe the teasing tricked her.

“I guess the teasing—”

“M’so sorry love,” he frowned and cupped her cheeks, kissed her softly on the lips. “No more teasing,” he promised.

“Well,” she laughed softly. “I kind of like teasing you.”

He smirked. “I don’t want you to think m’mean,” his eyebrows pinched together.

“Can I ask you a question without making fun of me?”

“I think that depends on the question, kitten. If y’ask me some basic math problem like what’s the indefinite integral of x-squared times cosine x or what’s a negative times a negative—”

“Are we dating?”

He stopped his joke and cupped her face. Dropped his forehead to hers and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I would fucking hope so, kitten.”

She swallowed. “You don’t care that I’m broke? Or that I work a lot and I’m crazy and—”

“No, I don’t care ‘bout any of that. You’re m’favorite person to annoy. The person I look forward t’seeing most in class. You’re the entire reason ‘ve never skipped class.”

Her heart fluttered. “You can’t pay for everything, Harry. It was a sweet sentiment but—”

“M’not letting m’girlfriend starve,” he rolled his eyes.

Her heart definitely fluttered. He was sweet. Harry was sweet. What a revelation. Or maybe she always knew that.

She looked into those beautiful green eyes that made her feel overwhelmed in the best way. “Why do you call me Your Majesty?” She whispered quietly. Almost scared to hear the answer.

He rolled his eyes again. A favorite past time of his. “Because kitten,” he pressed his lips over hers briefly, then kissed her forehead, and finally the tip of her nose. He met her gaze and made sure she was focusing when he spoke again. In a few minutes she would be busy, overwhelmed, and stressed. For the moment, Harry wanted to make sure she knew just how important she was to him. “I think you’re a queen.”

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2K notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 10 months ago

Text

Teenage Dirtbag*

Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!

“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”

“27.”

“Harry, come on.”

“What?”

“I need an answer.”

“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”

Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to be studying.”

“We are.”

“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"

“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?”

“Mm.”

“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”

“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”

“27.”

“Harry.”

He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”

He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”

“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”

“Oh, did I? Oops.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah. But you like me.”

“Not right now.”

“Yes now. Always.”

You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”

“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”

“Harry—”

“What, angel?”

You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”

“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”

“We agreed to study.”

“We are.”

“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”

“So?”

“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”

“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.

You grab the cards. “Oops.”

Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat.

“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”

“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”

“Because I have you.”

“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”

You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

“Mm…for now.”

“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”

Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”

“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”

You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”

“What? They’re just words, baby.”

“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”

He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”

You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”

“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”

“Harry…”

“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”

You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”

“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”

You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.

You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.

His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.”

Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”

He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it.

The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.

However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.

Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”

“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.

“I know. But today is not that day.”

Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.

“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.

He winks.

With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.

And every trace of Harry has gone.

“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”

“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”

“Deal.”

You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.

Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present.

You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.

Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.

But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.

You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.

He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.

And that’s when he finds you.

Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.

He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.

“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.

“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”

Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.

Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.

And the same earrings you’re wearing now.

But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”

You smirk. “You guess?”

“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”

To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.

“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. ��Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”

You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”

“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”

“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.

He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.

He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before.

Compared to them, you’re just…you.

Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.

You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.

“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”

You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.

“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”

“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”

You lean back. “You saw?”

“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”

“H…”

“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”

He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret.

And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.

And you’ll be devastated.

Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.

He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.

Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.

“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”

“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”

Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”

He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”

“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”

“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress.

You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you.

You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”

Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”

“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”

The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.

“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.

You swallow. “…yes.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”

You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”

“Mhm. Not Zack.”

“No. No, not Zack.”

He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”

Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…

You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.

He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.

He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.

“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”

“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”

And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.

You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.

And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.

His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still.

You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”

You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”

“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”

And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside.

You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.

But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.

“What…what did I do?” you pant.

He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”

He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”

“I…I know.”

“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”

You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”

“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”

“Oh…”

His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”

Your lips part. “You…oh.”

“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”

“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”

It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”

Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.

And that’s your favorite part.

“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”

You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants.

He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”

You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.

You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking.

“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”

You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”

You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body.

You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”

Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.

The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.

And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.

But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again.

And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.

“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”

“Mm…mhm.”

“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”

With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.

“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”

You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.

“Okay. Keep going.”

You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them.

“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it.

And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again.

The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.

Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.

“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”

You only mewl. Loud and incoherent.

He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.

His bandana.

It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.

“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”

“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”

Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.

“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”

You nod.

“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”

Your lashes flutter.

“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”

Another nod, slower.

“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”

Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.

The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth.

Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric.

He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more.

And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”

You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum.

“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”

Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.

“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”

You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.

So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.

Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling.

He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.

He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”

He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.

You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything.

And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either.

“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.

You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”

“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”

“Mm…unlikely.”

“But maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Might hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”

“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”

“Tell her you’re staying.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”

“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”

The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”

His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”

He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.

Until the door opens.

And Zack walks in.

God I love fratrry 😭💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

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jezebelblues · 1 month ago

Text

cinnamon | h.s | 2

pt 1, pt 2 (completed)

summary: in which two broke college students ignore the fact that they’re falling for each other. (just because you ignore it, doesn’t make it any less real.)

cw: smut18+ (piv) …dare i say…subrry (if u squint), drug dealing/usage, angst, violence, blood (only a lil), college!harry, fem!reader

word count: approx 16.4k

| i needed some softrry i’m not sorry. BUT i am sorry for being a lil late with this final part!! i took a hot minute to edit / drive home from work. all that fun stuff. anyway!! hope u liked it :^)

masterlist

the shift between them was subtle at first.

YN didn’t say anything the next time they crossed paths in the hallway. she didn’t make eye contact, didn’t give him her usual raised eyebrow or sharp comment. she just walked past, her bag slung over her shoulder, her face blank like he wasn’t even there.

it wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t loud. but it was deliberate. empty.

harry noticed it more than he wanted to.

their usual routine—the unspoken agreement to walk home together after their evening classes—just stopped. she didn’t linger by the exit anymore, didn’t slow her steps like she was waiting for him to catch up.

the first time it happened, he told himself she’d just left early. the second time, he figured she’d had something to do. by the third, it was clear; she wasn’t waiting for him.

and yet, he found himself hesitating by the doors anyway, glancing toward the biology lab like an idiot, only to leave alone, his steps echoing too loudly in the quiet.

at home, it was worse.

the silence between their apartments felt heavier now. he used to hear her faint laugh through the thin walls, the clink of a coffee cup on her counter, the muffled hum of her shitty netflix shows. now it was quiet, like she’d taken all the noise with her and left him sitting in it.

harry didn’t know why it bothered him so much. this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? to keep things simple. clean. to keep people out.

but then he’d remember the look on her face when he said it—it’s not like we’re friends—and something sharp twisted in his chest.

and all he had to sit with was his own guilt and regret.

the distance wasn’t one-sided.

YN hated how much it stung. she told herself she didn’t care, that she was too busy with school and work to think about harry, but that was bullshit, and she knew it.

she felt his absence in the small things—the sound of his voice beside her on those walks home, the way he’d lean against the wall outside their building, cigarette dangling from his fingers like he had nowhere better to be.

she told herself he didn’t deserve her attention after what he said. that he’d made it clear where they stood.

but sometimes, when she caught a glimpse of him—his curls hidden under a backwards cap, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie—she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was carrying. and why he seemed so determined to carry it alone.

it wasn’t until thursday evening, two weeks since they last walked home together, that their avoidance finally broke.

harry was heading back from class, his backpack slung low, his rings clicking softly against the railing as he climbed the stairs, nails painted a cherry red that already started to chip.

as he reached their floor, the door to YN’s apartment opened, and she stepped out. her hair was tied back, her sweatshirt hanging loose over her frame, a pair of worn sneakers on her feet.

they froze when they saw each other, the air between them thick and awkward.

he glanced at her, then at the stairs, his jaw clenching—not in anger, not in hate, but in quiet hope. “hey.”

she didn’t answer. she just stared at him for a moment, her hand tightening on the strap of her bag. finally, she nodded once, curt and distant. “harry.”

then she walked past him, her steps quick, her head high.

he stood there for a moment, staring after her, his fists clenching at his sides. he wanted to say something, anything, to pull her back. but the words caught in his throat, weighed down by the same wall he’d spent years building.

so he didn’t. he just turned toward his door, the silence swallowing him whole as the door clicked shut behind him.

the house wasn't packed, but it was loud. laughter and bass thumped through the walls, voices spilling out onto the porch where clusters of people leaned against the railing, cigarettes glowing faintly in the dark.

YN hadn't planned on coming.

but her roommate had begged, tugging on her arm like a child demanding candy at a grocery store. "come on," she'd sigh. "it'll be fun. you don't even have to stay that long. besides, you think jays cute, right?"

and YN, with no pressing deadlines and no excuse not to, had reluctantly agreed.

harry didn't want to be here either.

the house hummed with energy—the kind of energy that clung to saturday nights in college. voices blended with the low pulse of bass—heavy hip hop, the faint static of a projector flickering on the far wall casting neon splashes of color across the crowded living room. laughter spilled out from the porch, accompanied by the faint, acrid tang of weed smoke drifting in through an open window.

he slipped inside unnoticed, his nyu hoodie pulled low over his face, his hand brushing the pocket where an empty altoid tin sat snug against his leg.

the thing about acid drops was they were tiny. clean. no plastic bags crinkling to give him away. no smell to catch on clothes. just a few paper tabs, tucked neatly into a tin that could easily pass for mints.

this one wasn’t supposed to take long, anyway. pauli had texted earlier, casual as ever.

bring me four. party downstairs but i’ll be at the same spot.

simple.

harry liked pauli well enough, even if he’d never say it out loud. he was easy to deal with—no drama, no bullshit, and he tipped. if things weren’t so complicated, maybe they’d even get along.

he moved through the thrumming crowd, his eyes scanning the room automatically, checking for the usual signs of trouble.

that’s when he saw her.

YN was tucked into a corner of the living room, half-hidden behind a group of people, her back leaning lightly against the wall. the warm glow of fairy lights strung across the ceiling flickered over her, mixing with the neon hues spilling out from the projector somewhere behind her.

it made her look like art—like she didn’t belong here, needing to be some vibrant watercolor strung high up in a gallery.

she had a red solo cup in hand, her lips curving into the faintest smile as she listened to something the guy next to her was saying. harry didn’t recognize him, not in the dim light, but it didn’t matter. what mattered was how close he stood to her, how his arm brushed hers whenever he moved, how he leaned in like he was trying to fill the space between them.

harry’s eyes drifted lower, tracing the line of her figure almost involuntarily. her shirt clung in all the right places, the loose wrinkles in the fabric shifting faintly when she’d move around. her black jeans, straight-legged with a single slit on the right knee, revealed a faint bruise just above her kneecap.

his eyes narrowed. the thought came unbidden, like bile rising in his throat—a thought he had no right to conjure, no right to mull over.

was it from him?

the thought pushed itself to the front of his mind, uninvited, insistent.

did she get on her knees for him?

he clenched his teeth, ripping his gaze away before it could wander further, before his thoughts could twist into something darker, uglier.

he had no right.

his hand brushed the strap of his backpack, grounding himself as he trudged up the stairs. the second floor was quieter, though the music’s thrum still vibrated the floor beneath his feet.

at the end of the hall, pauli’s door was already cracked open, a faint glow spilling out—a mix of blues and purples that pulsed softly, courtesy of the lava lamp perched on the nightstand.

he stepped inside, letting the door creak wider as he entered.

he looked up from his spot on the bed, his grin as effortless as ever, the glow from the lava lamp catching on his teeth. “harry. what’s up, man?”

he nodded toward him before he pulled the altoid tin from his pocket, flipping it open and sliding four tabs onto the corner of the nightstand. “same price.”

pauli sat up, grabbing his wallet from the bed. “you know me. always good for it.”

he handed over the cash—a neat stack of bills folded lengthwise—and harry pocketed it without a word. “tipped you fifteenthis time.” pauli added with a wink, leaning back onto his elbows.

harry smiled faintly, “‘preciate it.”

he grinned, the blues and purples of the room painting his face like some kind of hipster saint. “likewise, man. let me know if you ever wanna hang. game a little, whatever. always a spot for you here.”

he nodded once, already moving toward the door. “noted, thanks.” (he didn’t stay long enough to hear a response.)

the bass hit harder as he made his way back downstairs, his hand ghosting along the banister.

as his foot touched the last step, marie was already there.

pretty brunette, long legs, and a perpetual smirk that always seemed to say you can’t resist me. she never stopped trying to score free weed from him, always angling her body just close enough to make it seem like an invitation.

“hey, haz,” she drawled, stepping into his path.

he glanced at her, half a second’s worth, his eyes scanning the room as he muttered, “don’t have anything on me right now, marie.”

she pouted faintly, her head tilting just enough to catch the light. “come on. just this once?”

harry stepped past her without a second glance, his tone sharp but dismissive. “not now.” he avoided brushing her shoulder, his steps measured as he maneuvered past her.

the main room was a mess.

a circle of people had formed, shouting over each other as someone recorded the chaos with their phone flashlight. harry didn’t care what was going on—he just didn’t want to get stuck in it.

he b-lined for the kitchen instead, slowing his steps when he caught the low hum of voices just beneath the music.

he wasn’t planning to stop, wasn’t planning to get involved in whatever was going on in there. but then he caught the tone—a mix of light coercion and arrogance, the kind of smug insistence that made his stomach churn.

“come on,” the guy said, his voice smooth, confident. “just one pill, YN. you’ll feel amazing, i swear.”

harry’s stood still, his grip on the strap of his backpack tightening.

“jay…” her voice was quieter, hesitant.

“it’s no big deal,” he pressed, his tone almost lazy. “just let loose. it’s saturday, for fuck’s sake. live a little.”

it was jay. of course, it was jay.

he knew that voice anywhere—smug and dripping with entitlement, like the world owed him whatever he wanted.

“i don’t know,” she sighed, her voice soft, her uncertainty cutting through the noise like static.

harry’s chest tightened, a knot forming just beneath his ribcage. he knew he didn’t have a right to feel anything about this. he’d said it himself—they weren’t friends, even if that was a lie. YN could make her own choices, could hang out with whoever she wanted, could take whatever jay was trying to shove into her hand.

but the knot didn’t go away.

it tightened further when he heard her sigh, gentle and resigned, like she was starting to give in.

that sound sent something sharp slicing through him. before he even realized he’d moved, harry stepped into the kitchen.

YN was leaning against the counter, her red solo cup in one hand, jay towering over her, his arm braced against the counter beside her. his other hand held a small pill—molly, probably—his fingers hovering just inches from her lips.

he looked over his shoulder, startled by the sudden presence. but before he could say a word, harry was on him. he grabbed jay by the bicep, yanking him away from YN with enough force to make him stumble.

“what the—”

his words were cut off by harry’s fist colliding with his face. the sound of bone crunching echoed through the kitchen, sharp and final.

he fell back, clutching his nose as blood began to drip onto his shirt. “what the fuck, man?” he shouted, his voice muffled and nasally.

his knuckles throbbed from the impact, the skin already split and stinging, but he didn’t flinch. his breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts as he stood there, his fists still clenched at his sides.

he didn’t look at jay.

he looked at YN.

her breath hitched audibly, her chest rising sharply as her lips parted in shock. but she didn’t say anything.

she just bandaged that hand.

she didn’t even glance at jay—not once. her wide eyes were locked on harry, and in that moment, the noise of the party faded to nothing.

his gaze softened, the adrenaline in his chest burning into something heavier as his eyes traveled down.

the bruise on her knee caught his attention again, stark against her skin just above the ripped fabric of her jeans. his jaw tightened, his features shifting slightly—something flickering across his face that she couldn’t quite name.

and then he looked up, his eyes meeting hers again, and the weight of whatever had passed between them felt unbearable.

without a word, he turned and walked out, his shoulders tense, his fists still aching from the punch. he didn’t look back, but YN’s eyes followed him, her chest still tight, her cup clutched tightly in her trembling hand.

jay muttered something—another fucking psycho—but she barely registered it.

the only thing she could think about was the look in harry’s eyes before he left.

three days had passed since the party, and the library was quieter than usual.

a few scattered groups occupied the tables near the entrance, laptops open, notes spread in chaotic displays of end-semester panic. YN moved past them, heading toward her usual spot near the back, a corner table she’d claimed as her own months ago.

but as she turned the corner, she paused. harry was there.

he was slouched in a chair at one of the smaller tables, his head resting in his hand, his elbow propped on the desk. his other hand hovered over a textbook, pen in hand, though he wasn’t writing anything.

he looked tired. dark circles smudged under his eyes, his curls an unruly mess that barely held under the backwards cap perched on his head. his sweater was wrinkled, the sleeve pushed up just enough to reveal his forearm, where faint bruises from something she couldn’t place mottled the skin.

she stood there for a moment, debating whether to turn back, but something in the way his shoulders sagged made her pause.

despite herself, she walked over.

“how’s your hand?”

her voice broke the silence between them, startling him slightly. his head lifted, his eyes locking onto hers, his expression caught between surprise and something unreadable.

“huh?” he croaked, blinking at her like he wasn’t sure if she was real.

she nodded toward his right hand, which was still gripping the pen. “your hand,” she repeated. “you messed it up again.”

harry glanced down at it, flexing his fingers slightly like he’d forgotten it had happened. his knuckles were still faintly red, the scabs on his skin threatening to crack.

“s’fine.” he muttered, his voice low, his tone as casual as he could manage.

she raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “doesn’t look fine.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back in his chair and setting the pen down on the open page of his textbook. “you always this nosy?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down without waiting for an invitation. “you always this defensive?”

he smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “only when people ask stupid questions.”

“it wasn’t a stupid question,” she shot back, leaning forward slightly. “you punched a guy in the face hard enough to put him on the ground. you’re lucky you didn’t break anything.”

he shrugged, glancing at his hand again. “felt worth it at the time.”

YN’s expression shifted, her brow furrowing slightly as she studied him. “why’d you do it?”

he looked up at her then, his smirk fading, replaced by something sharper, more guarded. “thought he deserved it.”

“that’s not an answer.”

he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at her. “what do you want me to say, YN?” he asked, his voice quiet but laced with tension. “that i hated the way he talked to you? the way he tried to push you into something you didn’t want? or that it pissed me off seeing him so close to you, like he had the fucking right?”

her breath caught, her fingers curling against the edge of the table.

he let out a sharp exhale, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater as he slouched into his seat again, his gaze dropping to the textbook in front of him. “doesn’t matter. s’done.”

“it does matter.” she whispered, a furrow forming on her forehead from concern.

harry didn’t look at her, but his jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing faintly.

“you don’t owe me anything, harry,” she continued, her tone careful but firm. “but don’t act like what you did wasn’t about me. because we both know it was.”

he finally met her eyes, his expression guarded but not cold. “so what if it was?”

she stared at him for a moment, her chest tight, the words stuck in her throat. finally, she sighed, leaning back in her chair.

but harry spoke first, his eyebrows knit together. “did you sleep with him?”

her eyes darted between his, her lips pressed into a tight line, her shoulders faltering. it caught her off guard, obviously—she could’ve torn into him, yell about how he had absolutely no right to ask her that, but the way his eyes looked slightly glassed over underneath the fluorescent lights made her keep composure. “no, harry.”

he bit the inside of his cheek, nodding with a frown.

finally, she stood, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “take care of your hand, okay?”

the walk home had always been theirs. a quiet that belonged to them.

not awkward, but comfortable, the kind of quiet that felt earned. the rhythm of their footsteps, the hum of the city around them—it was just enough. for weeks, though, that rhythm had been off, broken by the absence of something harry didn’t want to admit he missed.

but now, it was back.

it started on a tuesday.

YN walked out of her bio lab, distracted as she finished sending a text. she didn’t notice him at first, leaning against the wall just outside the lecture hall, his cap pulled low, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

when she did notice, she froze for half a second, her breath catching. he wasn’t looking directly at her, but he wasn’t not looking, either.

she could’ve walked past him. maybe a week ago, she would have.

but instead, she shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and walked toward him, her steps slow, deliberate. “you’re still here?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

harry shrugged, pushing off the wall and falling into step beside her. “just needed some air.”

YN raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “right. sure you did.”

he smirked faintly, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

they didn’t talk much on the walk back to the apartment, but it didn’t feel heavy, not like the silence that had filled the space between them for weeks.

the november air sharpened the sound of their footsteps, campus quieter than usual around them. she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, glancing at harry from the corner of her eye. he walked with his usual loose stride, his cap casting a shadow over his face, but there was something less guarded about the way his shoulders hung, something less tense in the way he moved.

when they reached the front of their building and went up the familiar steps, right into their hallway, YN hesitated, her fingers brushing against the door handle. “goodnight, harry.”

he glanced at her, his jaw working like he was debating whether to say something more. “night, YN.”

he opened the door and slipped inside, leaving her standing there for a moment longer, the faint echo of his voice lingering in her chest.

by thursday, it felt less strange.

harry was already there when she walked out of her lab, leaning against the wall again like he had nowhere else to be.

this time, she didn’t pause. she just walked toward him, her bag slung low on her shoulder, and nodded in his direction. “let me guess,” she said as they fell into step together. “you needed air again.”

he smirked, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets “you’re quick.”

she rolled her eyes, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “quick enough to know you’re full of shit.”

as they turned the last corner before their building, harry finally broke the quiet. “so,” he breathed, glancing over at her, “how’s bio lab? still full of idiots?”

she raised an eyebrow, giving him a side-eye as she adjusted her hood. “you care about bio lab now?”

“just making conversation.”

she hummed, skeptical. “it’s fine. i’m getting through it. probably not as hard as chem, though, huh?”

harry laughed softly, shaking his head. “chem’s fine. can’t say the same for everyone else in that class, though.”

YN slowed slightly, turning to face him. “wait—fine? i thought you said you were failing?”

he smirked, tilting his head as he held the door open for her. “did i?”

she blinked, stepping through the doorway before narrowing her eyes at him. “you’re kidding.”

he shrugged, his grin small but sharp. “guess you’ll never know.”

she opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat, stuck somewhere between annoyance and disbelief.

“night, YN.”

“goodnight, harry.”

by the next week, it was a routine again.

neither of them acknowledged it, but they didn’t need to. the walk home became theirs once more, the silence and conversation fitting together like pieces of something neither of them wanted to break again.

two days later, her radiator would give out sometime after midnight.

it wasn’t subtle—first, the groan of old pipes struggling to keep up, then the sharp hiss of steam escaping. finally, a metallic clunk that echoed through the apartment like the radiator had given up entirely.

she stood in front of it, arms crossed, glaring at the rusty old thing like sheer willpower might make it start working again. the cold was already creeping into the room, the chill biting through her socks and sweatshirt.

she’d called the maintenance guy twice, but as usual, it went straight to voicemail.

she paced for a few minutes, debating whether to try fixing it herself. she’d done it once before with her dad’s help over the phone, but the tools she needed weren’t here, and the memory of burning her hand on scalding metal wasn’t exactly encouraging.

with a sigh, she leaned against the counter, her eyes flicking toward the wall separating her apartment from harry’s.

she hesitated.

asking harry felt like admitting something—weakness, maybe, or a level of dependence she wasn’t ready to face. but the cold was making her breath fog, and the maintenance guy clearly wasn’t coming.

“whatever,” she whispered, grabbing a throw blanket from the couch and wrapping it around her shoulders as she crossed the hall.

when harry opened the door, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.

his curls were a mess, his hoodie slouching lazily over his frame, the sweatpants he wore hanging low on his hips. his eyes were half-lidded, his features slack with sleep, but when he saw YN standing there, his expression sharpened slightly.

“what’s up?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

she shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “my radiator broke.”

he blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. “did you call maintenance?”

“twice. nothing.”

he sighed, stepping back and jerking his head toward the corner of his apartment. “give me a second. toolbox is somewhere under all this shit.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you have a toolbox?”

“yeah,” harry muttered, crouching to dig through a pile of books and loose papers. “what, y’think i just let my stuff stay broken?”

she smirked faintly, leaning against the doorframe “honestly, kind of.”

he glanced up at her, his lips twitching into a faint smile before he returned to his search. a minute later, he stood, a small red toolbox in hand. “let’s see how bad it is.”

the radiator wasn’t just broken—it was practically on life support.

harry crouched in front of it, his knees on the worn wood, wrench in one hand and flashlight in the other. his hoodie shifted as he moved, revealing the sliver of a shirt beneath and the faint line of muscle along his forearm.

she leaned against the counter, clutching the throw blanket around her shoulders, trying not to stare.

it was a radiator, for god’s sake. there was nothing sexy about it.

but somehow, the sight of harry focused, his brow furrowed as he fiddled with the valve, was enough to pull her attention. the way his hands moved—sure, precise, his knuckles faintly bruised—felt like a distraction she didn’t want to have.

“how long’s it been acting up?” he asked, breaking the silence. his voice was low, steady, like he was more invested in the question than he should’ve been.

she blinked, snapping her gaze away from his hands. “um, tonight. but it’s been making weird noises for a while. hissing. clunking. you know, the usual signs of impending doom.”

harry let out a quiet huff, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he adjusted the flashlight. “you waited until it died t’deal with it?”

she shrugged, her grip on the blanket tightening. “figured maintenance would actually show up for once.”

harry snorted softly, shaking his head. “rookie move.”

she rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched faintly upward. “okay, expert. what’s the diagnosis?”

he tilted his head, glancing at the valve before pressing the wrench into it. “clogged. pretty bad, too. no wonder it gave out.”

she shifted closer, crouching beside him to get a better look. “and you know this because…?”

“cause i’ve fixed this piece of shit more times than i can count,” harry sighed, his voice laced with dry humor. “y’think i just let it flood my place every time it breaks?”

YN smirked, tilting her head as she studied him. “so you’re saying you’re handy. good to know.”

harry paused, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “wanna find out?”

“oh, ew.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you walked right into it.”

their eyes met briefly, the air between them shifting. YN didn’t move, her fingers brushing the edge of the blanket as she watched him.

he broke the stare first, turning back to the radiator with a soft exhale. the metal creaked under the pressure of the wrench, the sound loud enough to fill the room.

she leaned further against the counter as she tried not to let her gaze wander. but the way harry moved—confident, efficient, like he knew exactly what he was doing—made it impossible to ignore.

“you do this for everyone, or am i special?” she asked, her voice lighter now, teasing.

harry chuckled faintly, his lips quirking upward. “you’re special.”

she blinked, caught off guard by the casual honesty in his tone. “wow. didn’t think you’d admit it.”

he glanced back at her, smirking. “don’t let it go to your head.”

“too late.”

a few minutes later, he leaned back, resting his elbows on his knees as he inspected the radiator. his curls fell forward slightly, the faint sheen of sweat on his temple catching the light.

“alright,” he breathed, “should be good f’tonight. just don’t crank it too high, or you’re asking for trouble.”

she stepped closer, crouching beside him again to inspect his work. “so you’re saying this isn’t a permanent fix.”

he shook his head, wiping his hands on the front of his hoodie. “nope. keep bugging maintenance. eventually, he’ll get sick of you.”

she glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “you ever think about being less cynical?”

he snorted, standing and grabbing his wrench. “not really my style.”

YN followed him to her feet, the blanket slipping slightly off her shoulder as she leaned against the counter again. “well, thanks. for whatever your style is.”

harry glanced at her, his jaw tightening briefly before his expression softened. “don’t mention it.”

their eyes met again, the space between them feeling smaller than it should have.

YN swallowed, her fingers brushing the edge of the counter as she tilted her head. “i mean it, thanks. you didn’t have–”

“YN,” harry interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. “it’s okay.”

the weight of his eyes lingered, his features unreadable but softer than usual, like something unspoken was hanging in the air.

she nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around herself “okay.”

harry grabbed his toolbox, heading for the door. as he opened it, he glanced back at her, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “try not to break it again.”

“no promises.”

the door clicked shut behind him, and YN stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where he’d been.

christmas break arrived a bit too quick, final exams and whispered see-you-later’s mumbled after lectures.

but YN stayed at the apartment.

so did harry.

it was sometime after eleven when she heard it. the knock had been frantic, sharp, and loud enough to rattle her nerves.

she sat up from her spot on the couch, her blanket falling to the floor as she turned toward the door. it wasn't the casual tap of a neighbor or even the hesitant knock of someone unsure if she'd answer. it was loud. rushed. desperate.

her heart kicked up, the kind of thud that made her breath catch in her chest. she didn't even think before standing, her bare feet padding softly across the floor.

she opened the door without a second thought, and there he was.

his curls were a mess, sticking to his damp forehead like he’d been running. blood smeared his cupid’s bow, dried into the corner of his mouth. his cheekbone was bruising fast, a shadow of purple already spreading beneath the skin. his knuckles, raw and bloodied, hung at his sides, trembling slightly as he stood there, his breathing uneven.

but it wasn’t just how he looked. it was his eyes.

they were glassy, far away, like he wasn’t even really standing there.

her breath hitched as her hand tightened on the doorframe. she wanted to ask a million questions—to demand what the hell had happened, to make him explain. but the way his gaze barely met hers before darting to the floor made her stomach churn.

“can i come in?” he asked, his voice low, rough.

she nodded quickly, stepping aside. “of course.”

harry stepped into the apartment, his movements slow and heavy. he stopped in the middle of the living room, his shoulders sagging like the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

she shut the door softly, her heart pounding as she turned to face him. “sit.”

he hesitated, glancing at the couch like it might collapse beneath him. then he slumped into it, his elbows resting on his knees, his head dropping into his hands.

YN hovered for a moment, watching him, before disappearing into the bathroom. she grabbed a towel, dampened it with warm water, and pulled the first aid kit from under the sink.

when she returned, he hadn’t moved.

“you’re a mess.” she murmured, sitting down upon the coffee table that sat right across from him.

he huffed a weak laugh, his shoulders shifting slightly. “you don’t say.”

she started with his face, gently wiping away the blood smeared across his lips and jaw. the silence between them was thick, heavy, but not uncomfortable. it was full, almost brimming, like there was too much in the air between them to put into words.

harry’s eyes stayed downcast, his breathing uneven as YN dabbed carefully at his split lip.

“this is gonna sting,” she warned softly, tilting his chin slightly so the light hit his face. she worked in silence, her fingers brushing against his skin as she cleaned the dried blood.

he didn’t flinch, but she felt the tension in him—the tightness in his jaw, the way his shoulders hunched slightly, like he was holding himself together by a thread.

when she finished with his face, she turned her attention to his hands. his knuckles were a mess—split, swollen, and crusted with blood.

“let me see, please?”

harry hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly before he lifted his hand toward her. she took it carefully, her touch light as she began cleaning the wounds—split raw and red.

and then, without warning, harry broke.

it started with a sharp inhale, his chest heaving as he tried to pull in air. then came the tremble, the kind of shake that started in his shoulders and spread like a wave.

she froze, her gaze snapping to his face.

his eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over, running down his bruised cheeks. it wasn’t a quiet cry. it was raw, deep, the kind of cry that came from somewhere buried so far inside that it was impossible to contain.

YN set the towel down, her fingers still wrapped lightly around his hand. “harry…”

he shook his head, his voice breaking as he choked out the words. “i don’t know how much longer i can do this.”

her chest tightened, her free hand coming up brush strands of hair from his forehead. “do what?”

he exhaled sharply, a shuddering breath that seemed to rattle his entire frame. “all of it,” he croaked, his voice cracking. “the fucking drugs. school. the… everything. i can’t keep it together anymore.”

“you don’t have to.”

his eyes snapped open at that, his gaze locking onto hers. they were red, glassy, but sharper now, like her words had cut through something.

“yes, i do,” he said, his voice bitter. “you don’t get it, YN. if i don’t, it all falls apart.”

“then let it,” she whispered, her voice sharper, the tension in her chest spilling into her words. “let it fall apart, harry. you don’t have to carry everything alone.”

he stared at her, his breathing still uneven, his knuckles trembling in her grasp. the silence that followed was thick, full of everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

but she didn’t let go of his hand.

he sat back against the couch, his chest still rising and falling unevenly as he wiped at his face with the heel of his uninjured hand. his head tilted back, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling like it might hold some kind of answer for him.

then, after a beat, he shifted forward, his elbows on his knees, preparing to stand. “i should go,” he muttered, his voice rough, worn thin.

he rose to his feet, wobbling momentarily before he ambled toward the door.

her frown deepened. “don’t.”

his eyes flicked to hers, hesitant, searching. “YN, i—”

“stay,” she said, cutting him off, her tone leaving no room for argument. “just… stay. at least for tonight.”

he paused, his jaw working as he glanced toward the door. but then he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging like he’d finally let go of whatever excuse he was clinging to.

slowly, he toed off his sneakers by the door, one foot pressing against the back of the other to slip them off without bending. he straightened, looking at her expectantly, unsure of what to do next, waiting for her to guide him.

YN’s chest ached at the sight.

she crossed the room, shutting off the tv and the lamp in the corner, plunging the living room into soft darkness. then she turned back to him, stepping closer, her fingers brushing gently over his hand.

“come on,” she murmured, her grip light but steady as she led him toward the bedroom. the room was dim, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds.

harry lingered by the door, his steps hesitant as YN turned back to face him. “just for tonight,” she breathed. “just so i know you’re okay. we don’t have to talk about it. not ever, if you don’t want to.”

his lips twitched, almost into a smile, but the weight in his eyes dulled it. “just once, huh?” he whispered, the faintest trace of humor slipping through.

YN nodded, watching him carefully. “just once.”

he shifted, glancing down at his hoodie, the edges of it damp and stained. “can i…?” he gestured toward his chest. “s’kind of a mess.”

“yeah.” her voice was barely above a whisper as she began to fumble with the blankets on the bed.

he reached for the hem of the battered fabric, pulling it over his head in one slow, fluid motion. it clung slightly, damp with rain and speckled with blood, before he tossed it to the floor. his tshirt followed, revealing the lean line of his frame, faint bruises already forming along his ribs, the tattoos that decorated him.

her eyes flicked over him briefly, catching on the dark smudge of a bruise near his collarbone, but she didn’t comment.

he stepped toward the bed, hesitating for a beat before sliding under the covers. the mattress dipped slightly as he settled, his movements slow, unsure.

she slipped in beside him, her movements deliberate, careful, leaving just enough space between them to let him decide. for a long moment, the only sounds were the faint rustling of sheets and the distant hum of the city outside.

harry lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands resting loosely on his stomach. his breathing was quieter now, steadier, but the tension in his frame was still palpable.

then he shifted.

he turned toward her, the covers rustling softly as he inched closer, his chest brushing her side as he lowered his head against her shoulder.

she froze briefly, her breath catching as his curls tickled her collarbone, the faint scent of rain and something sharp lingering on him. she moved her arm at his pace, holding his head against her, fingers brushing through his curls.

he let out a shuddering breath, his body softening against hers, the weight of him settling in like was made to fit against her.

she combed her fingers gently through his hair, her other hand resting lightly against his bicep as his arm draped over her.

it was all unspoken.

harry’s breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against her side. YN’s fingers didn’t stop, the motion soothing for both of them.

just once—it seemed to echo like a taunt. just once, even if neither of them truly believed that.

the hours ticked by slowly, the room heavy with the kind of silence that didn’t feel empty, but full.

harry hadn’t moved much since he’d settled against her, his head resting on her chest, his breath brushing faintly against her collarbone. she honestly thought he’d fallen asleep, at least, till he spoke again.

“i didn’t mean t’scare you.” he croaked, his voice muffled slightly by the fabric of her shirt.

she paused, her hand stilling for a moment before resuming its path through his hair. “you didn’t scare me.”

“you don’t have to lie t’me.”

“i’m not.” her voice was soft, steady. “you didn’t scare me, harry. you just… worried me.”

his hand shifted, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of her blanket. “i didn’t mean to do that, either.”

she tilted her head slightly, her chin dipping into his tousled mess of curls. “then stop doing things that make me worry.”

he smiled weakly, the expression brief and half-hearted. “easier said than done.”

they fell into silence again, the weight of his words hanging between them.

YN wanted to ask what had happened, what had pushed him to show up at her door the way he had. but she bit her tongue, letting the steady rise and fall of his breathing fill the space instead.

it wasn’t until his hand shifted again, this time fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, that he spoke once more. “s’been a long time since i…” he hesitated, his voice trailing off like the words were too heavy to finish.

her hand stilled, her fingers curling slightly against his scalp. “since you what?”

he exhaled slowly, the sound shaky, almost unsure. “since i let anyone see me like this.”

her chest tightened, the knot of something unnamed twisting deep beneath her ribs. she pressed her fingers gently against the back of his neck, her touch grounding. “you’re allowed to let people in, harry.”

he shook his head, cheek still pressed against her, the movement causing the collar of her shirt to shift a bit lower. “not really.”

“yes, really,” she said firmly, her voice low but resolute. “you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.”

his hand balled the fabric of her shirt, his body pressing closer to hers like he was trying to absorb the weight of her words. “s’not that simple, cinnamon.”

“it doesn’t have to be complicated, either.”

they didn’t speak again after that, but the tension in the room shifted.

harry’s breathing evened out, his body relaxing against hers as the exhaustion he’d been fighting finally caught up with him.

YN stayed awake longer, her hand brushing gently through his curls, her other hand tracing the muscle in his bicep. she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with everything she wanted to say but couldn’t. but eventually, her eyes grew heavy, and the rhythm of his breathing lulled her to sleep.

by morning, she woke to the weight of his arm still draped across her waist, the faint warmth of his skin against her own. his face was pressed against her chest, his curls soft and unruly, tickling her jawline. his lips, still split and red, were parted just enough to let out the quietest, almost imperceptible snores.

for a moment, she stayed still, letting the quiet of the room wash over her, the hum of the radiator and the muffled sounds of the city filtering through the window.

but then reality crept in, nudging her to move.

carefully, she shifted, slipping out of his grasp. harry stirred slightly, his arm twitching before falling back against the bed. he let out a soft sigh, his body sinking deeper into the mattress, and YN froze for a beat, watching him.

the bruise on his cheekbone had darkened overnight, a stark reminder of everything that had happened. she stepped lightly toward the thermostat, turning up the heat a touch before padding into the small kitchen.

her fridge was mostly empty, save for a few leftovers and a half-gallon of milk. she sighed, crouching to dig through the shelves until her hand landed on a familiar blue tube tucked into the corner.

ready-to-bake cinnamon rolls.

simple. easy. and hopefully something harry wouldn’t complain about. she pulled the tube out, setting it on the counter before preheating the oven. as she moved, her thoughts swirled—fragments of the night before, the weight of his head against her chest, the broken edge in his voice when he cried.

harry was a puzzle she wasn’t sure she was supposed to solve, but she couldn’t stop trying.

the scent of cinnamon and sugar began to fill the air just as she heard the faint creak of the bedroom door.

YN turned, glancing toward the hallway as harry trudged into the living room, his chest bare, his sweatpants from yesterday still slung on his hips. his hair was a mess of curls, sticking out in every direction, and his eyelids hung heavy, dark lashes casting faint shadows against his bruised cheekbone.

he rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low groan as he stepped further into the room. “what time is it?” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

“almost nine.”

he leaned against the wall, blinking slowly as the scent of the cinnamon rolls registered. “you’re baking?”

“don’t get too excited,” she said lightly, glancing over her shoulder. “pillsbury.”

he smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “good enough f’me.”

YN shook her head, hiding a small smile as she grabbed a plate from the cabinet. “go sit down. they’re almost done.”

he pushed off the wall, his movements slow and deliberate as he sank onto the couch. “didn’t know you were a morning person,” he muttered, resting his head against the back of the couch as he stretched his legs out in front of him.

“i’m not,” she said, pulling the cinnamon rolls from the oven. “you’re just lucky i like you enough to feed you.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, his eyes slipping shut. “guess i’ll take what i can get.”

she glanced at him as she set the rolls on the counter, her chest tightening faintly at the sight of him—bare, bruised, and completely at ease for the first time since she’d opened the door last night.

she shook the thought away, grabbing a plate and a spatula as she tried to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest.

when she set the plate in front of him, harry opened one eye, “yeah,” he smiled, his voice still low, almost a drawl. “you definitely like me.”

she rolled her eyes, settling onto the couch beside him. “shut up and eat.”

she stole a glance at harry as he chewed slowly, his head bowed slightly over the plate in his lap. the bruise on his cheek looked worse in the daylight, darker, more defined.

it was uncanny, how vulnerable he looked—shirtless and bruised, curled up on her sofa.

he didn’t look up when he broke the silence. “where’s your roommate?”

“home,” she sighed, “she went back for break.”

he nodded, his focus still on the roll in front of him. “makes sense.”

another silence followed, stretching longer this time, broken only by the faint clank of the plate as YN set it on the coffee table.

he shifted, his fingers brushing the edge of his plate before he set it down beside hers. “can i stay?” he asked, his voice low, hesitant.

she frowned slightly, tilting her head to look at him. “here?”

he nodded, his gaze fixed on the table. “just for a while. i don’t…” he paused, his fingers flexing against his knees. “i don’t feel like going back right now.”

she didn’t respond immediately, her chest tightening as she watched him. there was something raw in his voice, something that made her think he’d never asked for this kind of thing before—not from her, not from anyone. she shifted closer, resting her elbows on her knees as she leaned toward him. “you don’t have to ask. of course, you can stay.”

harry finally looked up, his sleepy eyes meeting hers. “just for a while,” he repeated, his voice quieter now.

YN shook her head, her lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “as long as you need.”

he didn’t respond, but the tension in his frame seemed to ease, his shoulders dropping slightly as he leaned back into the couch.

she wasn’t used to seeing harry like this.

his usual confidence—his sharp tongue and quick wit, had softened into something quieter, something almost fragile. the way he slouched slightly in his seat, the way his fingers fidgeted against his knees—it all felt foreign, but it tugged at something deep inside her.

he stayed there for a while, his head tipped back against the couch, eyes half-lidded as he seemed to lose himself in the moment. YN didn’t press him, didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch between them, comfortable and full.

eventually, harry shifted, sitting forward as he rubbed his hands over his face. “i should grab some clothes.”

she glanced at him, pulling her legs up onto the couch. “from your apartment?”

he nodded, standing slowly and rolling his shoulders as he glanced toward the door. “yeah. but…” he paused, his jaw tightening slightly before he let out a slow breath. “can i shower here?”

“you don’t wanna shower at yours?”

he shook his head, his lips barely forming a pout. he didn’t respond, not verbally at least, but his silence was enough.

she nodded, “go get your clothes then.”

he was only gone for a few minutes, slipping out her door and back in with an armful of clean clothes to change into.

she stood as he locked the door behind him, gesturing toward the hall. “c’mon.” she led him to the bathroom she shared with her roommate, flipping on the light and pulling back the shower curtain. “okay,” she breathed, pointing toward the corner of the tub. “this is my stuff.” she glanced at the bottles lined neatly along the edge. “shampoo, conditioner, body wash. whatever you need.”

harry stood just inside the doorway, watching her with an intensity she tried to ignore. his arms hung loosely at his sides, his expression unreadable but steady.

YN reached for the faucet, twisting it to adjust the temperature, testing the water with her hand before stepping back. “there,” she smiled gently, looking at him over her shoulder.

she hesitated, her hand hovering near the shower curtain, before finally stepping toward the door. “i’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

he didn’t respond right away. his eyes flicked to hers briefly, something flickering in their depths—something warm, quiet, and unsaid. “thanks.”

she nodded, slipping out of the bathroom and pulling the door shut behind her.

harry stood there for a moment, staring at the running water, the faint scent of her body wash already filling the small room. his chest felt tight, but not in the way it had last night. this was different. warmer.

he glanced toward the door, his lips pressing into a faint, unreadable line as he exhaled slowly. it wasn’t much—letting him stay, starting the shower for him, showing him her space—but it was enough to make something in his chest ache.

the night would settle in slowly, blanketing the city in quiet.

her back pressed lightly against the mattress as she stared at the faint outline of her bedroom ceiling. the soft hum of the radiator filled the silence, its warmth finally chasing away the lingering chill from earlier.

harry was beside her again, just like the night before.

at first, they were apart, separated by a stretch of empty space between them. she could feel his presence, though—the slow rise and fall of his breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets when he shifted. but then, just as she’d started to drift off, he moved.

the bed dipped slightly as he turned toward her, his weight shifting as his arm draped across her waist. his chest pressed lightly against her side, and his curls tickled her jawline as he lowered his head to her chest.

it was the same as last night, yet somehow it felt different—heavier, more—just more.

her fingers combed through his curls again, and he let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing against hers, the tension she hadn’t even realized was there melting away with the sound.

the silence stretched, long and unbroken, until harry’s voice cut through it—quiet, almost hesitant. “are we still friends?”

YN froze briefly, her hand pausing mid-motion before she resumed her gentle combing. her gaze drifted upward, staring at the faint pattern of the popcorn ceiling as his question echoed in her mind. she didn’t answer right away, her tummy tightening as she tried to make sense of what he was asking—not just the words, but the weight behind them.

finally, she nodded, the movement gentle as her chin brushed against his curls. “of course,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the slight flutter in her chest.

he didn’t respond immediately, but the way he shifted closer, his arm tightening around her waist, said more than words could have. she kept combing through his hair, the motion slow and soothing, her fingers tangling lightly in the knots at the nape of his neck.

“this okay?” she asked quietly after a while, her voice barely above a murmur.

he exhaled, the sound low and heavy, like he was sinking into her touch. he only hummed, “mm-hm.”

her lips twitched faintly, a small, tired smile forming as she rested her cheek lightly against his head.

his breathing slowed, his weight growing heavier against her as sleep began to pull at him. YN stayed awake longer, her fingers threaded through his hair, her eyes fluttering shut. whatever this was—whatever they were—it was fragile, unspoken, and entirely theirs.

the rest of the week passed in a blur.

monday

it started with breakfast. YN had woken up early, the smell of coffee already filling the small apartment when harry wandered into the kitchen.

he was barefoot, his shirt hung loosely around his frame, curls a mess, still sleep-tangled, and the faint shadow of the bruise on his cheekbone was beginning to fade.

“you’re up early,” he muttered, leaning against the counter as he grabbed a mug.

she shrugged, flipping a pancake. “someone has to feed you.”

he smirked faintly, lifting the mug to his lips. “you say that like i’d starve without you.”

“you might,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder. “your fridge is pathetic.”

he didn’t argue. he just sipped his coffee and watched her move around the kitchen.

tuesday

the snow came down hard that afternoon, blanketing the streets in white.

they sat on the couch, harry’s legs stretched out in front of him, YN tucked into the corner with a blanket draped over her lap. a movie played quietly on the tv, but neither of them was really watching it.

“you ever build a snowman?” she asked suddenly, glancing at him.

“what, like when i was a kid?”

“sure,” she said, nudging him lightly with her foot. “don’t tell me you’ve never done it.”

he shrugged, his smirk fading into something softer. “once or twice.”

she grinned, leaning forward. “you wanna do it now?”

harry stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head, laughing softly under his breath. “you’re ridiculous.”

but an hour later, they were outside, their hands red from the cold as they shaped clumps of snow into something that vaguely resembled a snowman.

wednesday

harry had offered to cook.

she had been skeptical—especially when she saw him poking around the kitchen like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. “you know how to use that, right?” she asked, gesturing toward the knife in his hand.

he shot her a glare, though the faint grin on his lips betrayed him. “m’not completely useless.��

it turned out he wasn’t. dinner wasn’t fancy, but it was good—better than she’d expected, and she told him so.

“don’t get used to it,” he muttered, glancing at her as he sat back in his chair.

she grinned, her fork tapping against her plate. “you say that like you’re not gonna do this again.”

he didn’t answer, but the faint curve of his lips told her she was right.

friday

the radiator acted up again.

harry fixed it without her asking, crouched in front of the thing with his hoodie sleeves pushed up and a wrench in his hand.

YN leaned against the counter, watching him work, her arms crossed over her chest. “they should probably just hire you as the new maintenance man at this point.”

harry glanced over his shoulder, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

YN shrugged, trying to keep her expression neutral. “it’d be efficient.”

he turned back to the radiator, but she caught the faintest twitch of his lips, the smirk softening into something that made her tummy flutter.

saturday night

harry didn’t leave her bed that night, just like every other night that week.

but this time, there was no hesitation.

he shifted toward her sooner, his arm slipping around her waist as he pressed his face into the curve of her neck.

YN sighed softly, her hand lifting to comb through his curls, her fingers tracing the familiar path she’d memorized over the past few nights. “you know this is becoming a habit.”

harry huffed a quiet breath, his lips brushing against her skin. “maybe s’not a bad one.”

YN smiled faintly, her fingers tangling into his hair. “you saying you like having me around?”

he didn’t answer, but the way his arm tightened around her waist and his body softened against hers was enough.

the pounding didn’t stop.

harry groaned, dragging a hand over his face as the sharp knocks echoed through the quiet of the apartment. his head was still heavy with sleep, his curls a messy halo that tickled YN’s shoulder as he shifted beside her.

the sound came again, louder this time, and she blinked herself awake, sitting up slightly as she frowned toward the hallway. “it’s not mine,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

he sighed, sitting up and planting his feet on the floor. “no,” he muttered, his voice rough. “s’mine.”

she turned to look at him, her brow furrowing. “you’re sure?”

harry nodded, rubbing his eyes as he stood. “yeah. i’ll handle it.” he grabbed his hoodie that hung from her bed frame, tugging it over his head as he crossed through her hallway. the knocking hadn’t stopped, and by the time he opened YN’s door and stepped out, his scowl was firmly in place.

a guy stood in front of his door—college-aged, tall, wearing a puffy jacket and sneakers that looked too clean for someone pounding on doors at this hour.

harry’s steps were slow, deliberate, the sleep still heavy in his frame as he approached. “you’re real fucking persistent, y’know that?”

the guy turned, his eyes flicking over him with thinly veiled irritation. “dude, i’ve been texting you all week.”

YN appeared in the doorway behind harry, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the frame. she stayed silent, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the two.

he tilted his head, his curls brushing against his hood as he crossed his arms. “so y’thought banging on my door at ten in the morning was a good move?”

the guy shrugged, his tone defensive. “you’ve been m.i.a, man. i need what i asked for.”

harry let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening as he reached up to run his hand down his face. “jesus christ.”

YN stepped forward slightly, her voice cutting through the tension. “this really something that couldn’t wait?”

the guy blinked, noticing her for the first time. his eyes flicked between her and harry, something smug curling at the edge of his lips. “oh,” he said, dragging the word out. “this why you’ve been missing?”

harry stiffened, his jaw clenching as his eyes narrowed. “don’t.” he warned, his tone sharp.

the guy held up his hands, his smirk widening. “i’m just saying—”

“i don’t give a shit what you’re saying,” he snapped, stepping forward. his voice stayed low, but the edge in it made the guy falter. “you‘ll get what you need later and you’ll walk away. clear?”

the guy hesitated, glancing at YN again before muttering something under his breath and nodding. “fine. i’ll text you later.”

harry watched him walk off, his shoulders tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides. when the guy was gone, she stepped closer, her voice softer now. “you okay?”

he shook his head, exhaling slowly as he turned back to her. “s’fine.”

“are you sure?”

harry frowned, the irritation fading slightly as he glanced at her. but he nodded, brushing past her into the apartment.

she followed him, shutting the door softly behind them. “does that happen a lot?”

he didn’t answer right away. he leaned against the counter, running a hand through his curls before glancing at her. “not usually.”

her frown deepened, but she didn’t press. “you sure you’re okay?”

harry met her eyes, his expression softening slightly, though the tension didn’t leave his frame. “yeah,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “yeah, m’good.”

she didn’t believe him, not entirely. but she nodded, letting the silence settle between them as the morning stretched on.

he had left around two, grabbing his hoodie off the back of the chair and muttering something about finally putting food in her fridge.

“i’ve been raiding yours, doesn’t seem fair.”he said earlier, his voice laced with lazy humor as he ruffled his curls into place.

she raised an eyebrow from her spot on the couch, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “that hasn’t stopped you all week.”

he smirked faintly, tugging the hood over his head. “yeah, well. figured i’d give you a break.”

and with that, he was out the door, leaving YN alone in the quiet apartment.

the knock came twenty minutes later, startling her.

it wasn’t the casual tap of a neighbor or the soft knock of a package delivery—it was firm, insistent. she frowned, setting her laptop aside as she stood, her socked feet padding softly against the floor.

when she opened the door, her stomach twisted. there he was—the guy from that morning, his puffy jacket zipped tight, his expression set in something between annoyance and impatience.

“um,” she paused, gripping the edge of the door. “can i help you?”

his eyes flicked over her briefly before he jerked his chin toward the hallway. “harry here?”

her chest tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “no. he’s out.”

the guy huffed, his hands disappearing into his jacket pockets as he nodded toward the apartment behind her. “you know when he’ll be back? he said i could get my shit later.”

“no, he didn’t say.”

he studied her for a beat, his head tilting slightly. “he live with you now?”

she shook her head. “he just… visits.”

the guy smirked faintly, the expression smug. “yeah. figured that much.”

YN bristled, her hand tightening on the doorframe. “look, if you’re trying to reach him, text him. i don’t know anything.”

the guy held her gaze for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering in his expression. finally, he stepped back, shrugging. “sure. i’ll text him…again.”

she slammed the door shut, her heart racing as she flipped the deadbolt into place. she leaned against the wood, exhaling sharply as the tension slowly began to drain from her frame.

she didn’t tell harry when he got back.

he’d been carrying enough all week, the exhaustion in his eyes and the weight in his shoulders a constant reminder of everything he was dealing with.

so she kept it to herself.

it wasn’t until later that evening, when they were sitting on the couch with the faint glow of the tv lighting the room, that harry’s phone buzzed.

he glanced at it, his jaw tightening as he read the message.

hey, stopped by urs and then ur girl’s place earlier. said u were out again. just let me know when i can get my eighth man.

harry’s chest tightened, his breath catching as he stared at the screen. “what the fuck?” he muttered, his voice low and sharp.

YN looked over, her brow furrowing. “what’s wrong?”

he turned the phone toward her, his eyes narrowing. “he came here?”

she hesitated, her stomach twisting. “yeah,” she admitted softly. “this afternoon. i didn’t think it was worth stressing you over.”

his expression hardened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “not worth stressing me over? YN, he showed up at your door.”

“i know,” she said quickly, her voice steady despite the tension creeping into her chest. “but i handled it. it’s fine.”

“s’not fine,” harry snapped, standing abruptly. “this isn’t just about me anymore, okay? if people start thinking it’s okay to involve you—”

“harry,” YN interrupted, standing to face him. “you’re overreacting. he was annoying, sure, but it’s not like he threatened me.”

“doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice rising. “this shit is getting out of hand. promised myself i’d keep you out of it, and now people are knocking on your door looking f’me. that’s not okay.”

“then maybe you should stop,” YN said, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

harry froze, his eyes snapping to hers, the weight of her words hitting him like a punch. “you think i haven’t thought about that?” he muttered, his voice quieter now but no less tense. “you think i want to keep doing this?”

her stomach twisted in ways that screamed retreat, retreat, retreat—the frustration in his voice cutting deeper than she expected. “don’t do this anymore, harry. it’s not worth it.”

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls as he turned away. “you don’t get it,” his voice was tight. “s’not that simple.”

“then make it simple.”

harry turned back to her, his jaw clenched, chest heaving as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. “i can’t.” his tone was sharp, the words heavy. “and you don’t get to tell me i can.”

YN frowned, her arms crossing over her chest as the weight of his words settled between them. he grabbed his hoodie from the chair, pulling it over his head before turning toward the door. “i need air.” he left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving her alone in the quiet apartment.

harry didn’t come back that night.

YN stayed up later than she intended, the silence pressing in on her. she flipped through a textbook on the couch, barely absorbing a single word, her mind spinning with fragments of their argument.

his face—the tension in his jaw, the sharpness in his voice, it just played on a loop in her head.

when she finally gave up on pretending to study, she dragged herself to bed, the empty space beside her feeling heavier than it had in weeks.

harry, meanwhile, had locked himself in his own apartment.

he sat at his small kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of water in front of him and his phone facedown beside it. the air in the apartment was stale, colder than he liked, but he hadn’t bothered to adjust the heat.

his bed was just in the other room, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie down.

the argument replayed in his head, every word a sharp reminder of how badly he’d let things spiral. YN was right—this wasn’t sustainable. he knew it, even if he didn’t want to admit it. but the idea of walking away from the one thing keeping him afloat felt impossible, like stepping off a ledge with no guarantee there’d be solid ground beneath him.

he rubbed his hands over his face, the bruises on his knuckles still tender, a faint throb reminding him of how close everything had come to boiling over.

when he finally moved to the bed, it was late, the clock blinking 3:42 am.

the sheets were cold, unfamiliar, and for the first time in weeks, harry realized just how much he’d come to rely on the quiet warmth of YN’s apartment.

it wasn’t just the bed or the radiator or the soft glow of her bedside lamp.

it was her.

the next morning, she woke up to the kind of silence that wasn’t comforting, just hollow. she sat on the edge of her bed for a long time, staring at the spot harry would normally take—his arm draped over her waist, his curls tickling her collarbone.

now, it was just empty.

she thought about texting him, but her fingers hovered over her phone, indecisive. she wasn’t sure what she’d even say.

harry didn’t text her either.

the day dragged on, heavy and slow, each hour feeling like it stretched longer than it should have.

she couldn’t help but glance at the wall separating her apartment from harry’s, the faint sound of movement on his side making her chest tighten.

he was close—just steps away. but for the first time in weeks, he felt farther than ever.

and neither of them knew how to bridge the distance.

the next afternoon, coming home from work, she spotted him the moment she turned the corner onto her floor.

harry was sitting on the ground just outside her door, his back pressed against the wall, his head tilted back as if he’d been staring at the ceiling for hours. the faint light from the hallway cast shadows under his eyes, making the tiredness on his face even more apparent.

he didn’t say anything when he saw her. didn’t stand, didn’t offer an explanation.

he didn’t need to.

YN’s steps slowed, her bag hanging heavy off her shoulder as her eyes met his. there was a weight in his gaze, an unspoken plea that neither of them needed to put into words.

she didn’t ask why he was there.

instead, she reached into her pocket, pulling out her keys and unlocking the door.

he stood, slipping off his shoes just inside the entryway as if he belonged there. maybe he did. without a word, he walked the short hallway to her bedroom.

the bathroom was warm from the radiator, but the chill of the night still clung to her skin as she slipped out of her scrubs. she could hear the faint creak of the bed as harry settled into it, the sound an odd comfort after the last two days of his absence.

YN pulled on a pair of worn sweats and a loose sweatshirt, her mind too tired to linger on the why of it all. when she finally climbed into bed, harry didn’t move to face her like he usually did. instead, he shifted closer, pressing his chest against her back, his arm sliding underneath her head to pull her closer.

his body was warm, solid, grounding in a way she hadn’t realized she needed until it was there again.

they didn’t speak.

she twisted the rings on his fingers, the very hand that lay sprawled over her tummy, pressing her into his chest. “harry?” she murmured, her voice worn, tired.

he hummed softly in acknowledgment, his arm tightening slightly around her.

“tell me why it’s not so simple?”

his breath hitched, just faintly, and she felt his hesitation in the way his grip faltered for the briefest moment. “it just isn’t,” he sighed, his voice low, rough against her ear.

“that’s not an answer,” she frowned, her index finger tracing the H of his ring. “not a real one.”

he exhaled sharply, the sound heavy and resigned, and for a moment, she thought he might shut down entirely.

but then he spoke. “s’my mum,” he rasped. “and rent. and groceries. and bills.”

she stayed silent, her fingers pausing against his fingers as she let him continue.

“i grew up watching her work three jobs just to keep the lights on—before we moved,” he mumbled, his voice steady but hollow, like he’d had this conversation in his head a thousand times but never out loud. “and it still wasn’t enough. there was always more t’pay for, always something else breaking, something else needing fixing.”

his chest pressed harder against her back, like he was trying to ground himself in the moment.

“when i got here, i thought things would get better. scholarships, loans—it was supposed to be enough. but it’s not.” his voice cracked, just barely. “it never is.”

“so you started dealing,” she croaked, filling in the gaps he didn’t.

harry nodded against her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. “weed was easy,” he admitted. “then psychedelics. then molly. s’not what i wanted, but… it worked. it kept me here. kept her afloat back home.”

YN turned back toward him slightly, her hand reaching for his. “har–”

he shook his head, “don’t.”

she didn’t push him, her fingers threading lightly through his as she pressed their hands between her chest and his.“you don’t have to keep doing this,” she said quietly after a long pause. “you know that, right?”

his grip tightened, and she felt the faintest shake in his fingers. “i don’t know anything else,” his lips trembled, his voice so soft she almost didn’t hear it.

she turned fully, her forehead brushing against his as she met his gaze, her hand still holding his tightly. “then let me help.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said finally, his voice low, but the bite that usually sharpened his words was absent.

she didn’t flinch. didn’t look away. instead, her lips curved into the faintest, almost tired smile. “i know enough,” she murmured.

they lay there, facing each other now, their cheeks pressed against the pillows. the faint orange glow of the streetlights filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows over their faces. harry’s eyes softened slightly, but he didn’t argue, didn’t push her away. he just watched as she shifted, her hand reaching out to trace the black ink etched into his bicep.

her fingertips moved slowly, following the lines of the tattooed ship, the sails that stretched across his skin. “i get it. not everything, maybe, but enough.”

her fingers paused briefly on the edge of the ink, her eyes dropping to her hand before continuing. “i’m here because of a full ride. the scholarship’s the only reason i even got to set foot in this city. but it’s not just… given, you know? there are expectations, benchmarks, a constant weight reminding me that if i slip up, even once, it’s over.”

harry’s eyes stayed on her, the faint tension in his jaw softening as he listened. “it’s like…” she hesitated, her fingers still tracing the tattoo. “it feels like there’s this blade hanging over me all the time. like one wrong step, one failed class, and it’ll fall.”

her voice wavered slightly, and she exhaled softly, shaking her head. “i’m scared, harry. scared of failing. scared of… what happens if i do.”

his hand shifted, brushing lightly against her arm.

“and the future,” she continued, her gaze flicking up to meet his. “i think about it all the time. whether i’ll make it through this, whether all of this pressure will be worth it in the end. sometimes it feels like it’s too much, but then i think, what’s the alternative? giving up? i can’t do that either.”

harry’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable, but his hand stayed where it was, a small, grounding touch against her arm.

“so yeah,” she sighed softly, her fingers brushing one last time over the edge of the ship before dropping to the pillow. “i don’t know everything, but i know what it feels like to carry something too heavy for too long. and i know what it feels like to be scared of what happens if you stop.”

he exhaled slowly, his eyes searching hers in the dim light. he didn’t say anything, but the way his fingers tightened slightly against her arm told her he’d heard her.

harry returned to the building just after five, the sky outside dimming as the cold of the evening set in.

he reached up for the key YN had left above the doorframe, something she reminded him of this morning before she left for work. his fingers brushed the cool metal easily, a smile on his lips as he unlocked the door.

stepping inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapped around him, a stark contrast to the chill that had seeped into his bones from the day.

his eyes landed on YN immediately. she was curled up on the couch, a blanket draped loosely over her, the flicker of the tv casting soft shadows across her face. her chest rose and fell evenly, her lips slightly parted in sleep.

harry toed off his shoes by the door, moving quietly as he turned the heat up a notch. his shirt stuck to his skin, damp with sweat and the stale air from hours spent running around the city. he peeled it off, tossing it over the back of a chair before padding toward the couch.

for a moment, he just stood there, his eyes tracing the soft curve of her body beneath the blanket, the way the dim light from the tv illuminated her features.

he didn’t think twice before bending down, sliding his arms beneath her. she stirred faintly as he lifted her, a quiet sigh escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake fully.

he slipped onto the couch, settling her carefully between his legs, her head resting against his lower stomach. she shifted slightly, her cheek pressing against him as he adjusted the blanket to cover them both.

his fingers found her hair instinctively, combing through the strands in slow, deliberate motions. it was a habit he’d picked up from her, from the way she soothed him almost every night, and he found himself wondering if she felt the same quiet calm from it that he did.

the tv flickered in front of him, some show he didn’t recognize playing softly, but his focus stayed on her.

her breath was warm against his skin, her body soft and relaxed, and for the first time all day, harry felt the weight of the world start to lift, just a little.

he thought she was asleep.

until her voice broke through the quiet, soft and drowsy but steady enough to make his chest tighten. “harry, i don’t think we’re just friends.”

his hand stilled in her hair, his heart thudding once, hard, against his ribs. he looked down at her, his breath catching as she shifted slightly, her face turning toward him, though her eyes were half-lidded. “what makes you say that?”

she hummed softly, her fingers curling slightly against his side beneath the blanket. “because friends don’t… do this.”

harry swallowed hard, his hand brushing lightly against the back of her head, resuming its slow, soothing rhythm. “you think so?”

YN nodded faintly, her cheek nuzzling against him. “pretty sure.”

he huffed a quiet breath, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles despite the sharp twist in his chest. “maybe you’re right, cinnamon.”

she didn’t respond, her breathing evening out again as sleep pulled her back under.

harry stared at the tv, his hand still in her hair, the weight of her words settling over him like a blanket of its own.

they'd both drifted off sometime after the quiet settled, the hum of the tv lulling them into sleep. when YN blinked awake, the room was dark except for the flickering light bleeding from the screen, washing everything in shades of blue and white.

she was still between his thighs, her cheek pressed against his naval, his warmth a quiet anchor as his belly fluttered with every breath.

harry stirred beneath her, letting out a low groan as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, his fingers brushing through his curls. he blinked hard, adjusting to the sudden glow of the television. the bruise on his cheekbone had faded to a dull yellow, but his knuckles still bore the deep, mottled stain of healing. they flexed slightly as he shifted, testing the ache.

she sat up slowly, still nestled between his legs, pulling her knees to her chest as she turned to face him.

his smile was soft, lopsided and heavy with sleep, his dimples cutting through in the faint light. his hands found the outer edges of her knees, palms warm and solid as he wiggled them side to side gently. "the bed is probably more comfortable," he whispered, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn't used it in hours.

but she didn't move. not away, at least. instead, she shifted closer, folding into herself, her toes tucking beneath him in the small space left between them.

her hands reached out almost hesitantly, brushing against his chest, her fingertips tracing the swallows inked beneath his collarbones.

harry tensed slightly, his breath catching just enough for her to notice.

she leaned in, her knees tilting inward, resting along his hipbones. the flicker of the tv painted her face in broken shards of light as she edged closer, her lips a breath away.

he swallowed hard, his voice a warning but barely that. "YN..”

but he didn't move. didn't stop her.

her lips hovered just over his, her breath warm against his mouth, and her voice came soft and deliberate, barely above a whisper. "tell me to stop."

he didn't.

the space between them disappeared as her lips met his, slow and certain, her hands sliding up to rest against the curve of his shoulders.

for a second, he didn't move, like the weight of the moment had pinned him in place. but then his hands shifted, sliding from her knees to her waist, pulling her in closer as the kiss deepened, quiet and unhurried, their breaths tangling in the stillness of the room.

her lips coaxed his into movement until hesitation (almost) fell away completely. his breath hitched as her hands slid up his neck, fingers grazing over the curve of his jaw.

he whispered her name against her lips, the sound a mix of a moan and a warning, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop or pull her closer.

but his hands betrayed him. they gripped her hips firmly, pressing her down until she straddled him, her knees framing his thighs, his back still flush against the armrest of the couch.

her weight settled over him, and harry's breath came out shaky, like the air itself was too much to handle. his hands stayed at her hips, fingers flexing against her like they couldn't decide whether to ground her or let her move.

"we can't.” he managed to say, the words slipping out between kisses that he couldn't seem to stop. the sentence dissolved into a low moan as her lips moved to his jaw, her teeth grazing against his stubble.

she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her own clouded and unwavering, her breath warm against his cheek. "we are.”

the words hit him like a match to gasoline, and his restraint shattered in an instant. his hands slid from her hips to her waist, his fingers curling against the thin fabric of her sweater as he pulled her closer, their bodies flush now. their kisses turned hungry, desperate, like both of them had been holding their breath for too long.

her hands tangled in his hair, pulling softly, and his low groan vibrated against her lips as his grip on her tightened. he tilted his head back slightly, giving her room as her mouth trailed along his jawline, her name tumbling from his lips again, this time softer, rougher, almost pleading.

his head hit the couch's armrest as her kisses worked their way back to his lips, her heat shifting over his in a way that made his breath stutter. his hands roamed higher, curling over the curve of her back, holding her like he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.

every instinct told him this was a line they couldn't uncross, but the weight of her, the heat of her, the sound of her soft, hitching breaths—it was enough to unravel him completely.

he moaned her name again, softer, almost like a prayer.

so she kissed him in answer.

his hands tugged at the hem of her sweater, his movements rough but not rushed. the fabric slid over her head, leaving her in just her bra, her skin warm and soft beneath the flickering light of the tv.

"fuck," he breathed, the sound slipping out unbidden as her lips found his neck.

the brush of her tongue sent a shiver down his spine, and when her teeth grazed the sensitive skin just below his ear, his hips bucked instinctively beneath her.

his hands slid up her back, fingers fumbling only briefly before unclasping her bra. the straps fell loose, sliding down her arms as he groaned again, low and guttural, the sound vibrating against her lips.

she rocked her hips against him, the friction sending sparks of heat spiraling through his chest. harry's hands flew to her waist, his grip tight like he needed something to hold onto, something to keep him grounded.

“tell me where you need it, h.” the words slipped between her lips through his like a dare as she kissed him again. her hips kept moving, rocking in a way that made his breath stutter.

harry's head tipped back against the armrest, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as her words hit him, a moan slipping past his lips, raw and unrestrained. his fingers curled tighter against her waist, his body aching, straining beneath hers.

"fuck—everywhere.” he muttered, his voice shaking, desperate.

she leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear as she rocked against him again, harder this time, pulling another broken sound from his throat.

harry bucked his hips against her, pressing his hardened cock into her core through the thin layers of their sweatpants. the movement was instinctive, almost helpless, his body speaking the desperation he couldn't put into words anymore.

“harry—” she breathed, her voice catching as she felt him beneath her, hard and wanting.

his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name, glassy and dark, locking onto hers. there was something unspoken in the way he looked at her, raw and fragile, like she was the only person in the world who could see him like this—needy, exposed, undone.

"you feel so good.” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as her hands slid up his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, taut under her touch.

harry let out a broken sound, his lips parting as if he wanted to argue, but all that came out was another moan as she shifted her hips, pressing down against him with just enough pressure to make him gasp.

"let me—“ she whimpered, "let me make you feel good.”

his hands slid back to her waist, trembling slightly as he nodded, his breath hitching when her lips found the sensitive spot beneath his ear again.

he didn't need to say it, not when every touch, every soft sound from his throat spoke volumes. YN could feel it in the way his body moved beneath hers, the way his fingers pressed into her skin like he was afraid to let go.

his touch moved higher, his palms grazing the curve of her shoulders, brushing over the column of her neck, before cupping her jawline with a reverence that made her chest tighten.

his thumbs rested just below her ears, his hands holding her in place like he needed to anchor himself in the moment. "please..." he breathed, the word breaking on his lips in quiet desperation. his voice was shaky, his accent thickened by the weight of it, and she felt the sound reverberate through her, lighting her nerves like a match.

she lifted herself, her knees pressing into the couch cushions as she rose just enough to give him space. her hands rested lightly on his chest, feeling the unsteady rhythm of his heart beneath her fingers.

harry took the opening instinctively, his hips shifting as his hands dropped to his waistband. his movements were clumsy, rushed, but YN didn't move away—didn't look away.

his fingers hooked under the elastic of his sweatpants and boxers, tugging them down just enough to free himself, the fabric bunching at his mid-thigh.

her breath hitched at the sight of him, her body flushing warm as his cock slapped against his naval from freeing himself.

she sat back, her movements quick but deliberate as she tugged her sweatpants and panties down in one smooth motion. the cool air brushed against her bare skin, sending a shiver racing up her spine as she climbed back into place, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him.

she lowered herself slowly, the heat of him brushing against her soaked cunt, but just before she could take him fully, his hands found her.

his fingers curled against the flesh of her bum, halting her movements, his grip firm but not forceful.

their eyes met, and she froze at the look in his. it was more than hesitation—it was worry, soft and fragile, barely hidden behind the glassy haze of his need.

he didn't say a word, but she didn't need him to. she knew what he was thinking, what was holding him back.

"i'm on the pill," she whispered, her voice steady but soft, her eyes never leaving his.

his gaze flickered, something uncertain melting away into something deeper, warmer. his grip on her eased, and his hands drifted lower, brushing over the curve of her thighs. his fingers spread wide, settling there, his palms grounding her as he gave the faintest nod.

she let out a shaky breath, her hands cupping the sides of his neck as she sank down onto him.

the stretch stole the air from her lungs, the way her body adjusted to his cock, enveloping him fully.

harry's eyes widened, his lips parting as a low, broken groan spilled out, his fingers tightening against her thighs like he was holding on for dear life.

"that’s good—” he rasped, his voice trembling as his head fell back against the armrest. his chest heaved beneath as her hands drifted lower, his body taut with restraint.

but his eyes—he couldn't tear them away. they followed every curve, every shift of her body as she moved above him. her skin glowed faintly in the flickering light of the tv, her breaths shallow and uneven, her lashes fluttering as she adjusted to him.

she was art, every movement deliberate, every curve of her body a masterpiece he couldn't stop staring at.

"s’good baby, just like that.” he moaned his words in reverence, his voice soft and raw. his hands slid up her thighs, his thumbs brushing over her hips as if he needed to memorize every inch of her.

"you're perfect.” he murmured, the words slipping out like a secret he hadn't meant to share.

her hips stilled for a moment, her gaze meeting his, and her lips curved into the faintest smile.

he wasn't used to being fucked like this—any of it. not the careful way her hands steadied themselves on his chest, not the slow, teasing rhythm she set, not the soft, coaxing words that slipped from her lips.

"your cock is so good, harry.” her voice was low and warm, melting into the quiet. her fingers traced the faint lines of his tattoos, her touch light but grounding.

he let out a shaky exhale, his hands flexing against her thighs, the grip of his fingertips faltering as he fought to hold himself together.

"like that?" she asked softly, her voice catching slightly as she rolled her hips again, watching the way his chest rose and fell in uneven beats beneath her.

his eyes blinked open, dark and unfocused, his gaze locking onto hers like he couldn't find the words.

"fuck—yes.” he breathed finally, the words breaking apart as they left his mouth.

she leaned forward slightly, her hips never losing their rhythm as her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “tell me what you need,” she whispered, her breath shaky. “i’ll do anything for you.”

his breath hitched, his head tipping to the side as her words sank into him, and his grip tightened on her thighs.

"just... just keep going," he rasped, his voice rough and barely holding together. "don't stop—please.”

she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her own soft but blazing with intent as she bounced on his cock.

his jaw clenched, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth, his fingers twitching against her skin. his eyes dropped to her chest, watching the way her tits bounced with each motion, his gaze burning and unashamed.

"yes, baby—fuck.” he muttered under his breath, a furrowed crease cutting deep into his forehead as he tried and failed to keep his composure.

she bit her lip, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she tilted her hips slightly, drawing a low, guttural sound from him that made heat pool low in her stomach.

his eyebrows knit together in pleasure, strings of whimpers falling from his lips in desperation.

his hands slid higher, curling around her waist as he tried to match her rhythm, but yn was still in control, her movements precise, her focus entirely on him—his body responding to hers like it was made for this.

his lips found her tits, warm and insistent, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his tongue soothed it, drawing a sharp moan from her.

YN’s back arched into him instinctively, her movements above him never faltering, her rhythm unrelenting.

his hands slid up her spine, his palms flattening against her back, holding her to him as though he couldn't bear even an inch of distance. each roll of her hips sent a tremor through him, his body taut beneath her, every nerve alive and aching with the intensity of her.

"YN—“ he groaned against her skin, her name breaking on his tongue, caught between a moan and a prayer.

his whimpers melted into low, guttural grunts as her pace quickened, her movements growing more frantic. his toes curled, his heels digging into the couch cushions as he tried to hold on, but the way she moved, the way her cunt clenched around his cock—it was unraveling him completely.

her moans rose higher, sharper, each sound pulling him deeper under her spell. his grip on her tightened, his fingers pressing into her skin as though grounding himself in her was the only thing keeping him tethered.

his chest rose and fell in desperate, ragged breaths, his gaze locking onto her with an intensity that made his vision blur.

her body was mesmerizing—her curves, the way she moved, the sheer determination in her eyes as she took him apart piece by piece.

"m’close, baby—please,” he choked out, his voice cracking as his head fell forward, his curls damp against his forehead.

once her heard her come undone, her breath shuddering as she came all over his cock—he was done for.

his eyes squeezed shut, his head tipping back as his toes curled tighter, his muscles tensing with the force of his release. a low, broken moan ripped from his throat, his body trembling beneath her as he spilled into her.

her hand cupped his face, her thumb brushing away the single tear that slipped down his cheek as she steadied her breathing, her body still moving gently along his length, riding out the final waves of their release together.

his hands lingered on her waist, his thumbs brushing over her skin in slow, absent circles, as though letting go wasn’t an option. his gaze flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes, soft and unguarded in the quiet aftermath.

she stayed perched in his lap, her body warm and bare against his, her breathing steadying as her fingertips traced the lines of his face. the bridge of his nose. the sharp curve of his cupid’s bow. the faint stubble along his jawline that scratched softly beneath her touch.

her hands drifted lower, finding his, their size so much larger in hers. the bruises on his knuckles were still deep, fading but stubborn, the purple-yellow marks a silent story she didn’t yet know.

she took his hand carefully, her fingers brushing over the tender skin as if she could will the pain away with her touch. harry let her, his shoulders sinking, his chest rising with a soft, uneven breath.

“you make it better.” he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant, like the words might shatter if he said them too loudly.

she glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. “your hands?”

he shook his head, his curls falling slightly over his forehead as he pulled his hands from hers, but only to raise them to her face.

his palms cupped her cheeks, his fingers threading gently through her hair, holding her like she was the only thing tethering him to the world. “life,” he breathed, his green eyes locked onto hers. “you make all of its bullshit better.”

her breath hitched, her hands lifting instinctively to cover his, keeping him there as if to say she wasn’t going anywhere.

they stayed like that, suspended in the stillness of the room, their bodies bare and vulnerable but safe. harry’s thumbs brushed softly against her cheeks, his lips parting as his eyes softened even further.

“my heart is yours.” he confessed, the words simple but heavy, his voice trembling slightly at the edges.

YN’s chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking deep. she knew what he meant—he didn’t need to say i love you outright. it was there in the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he couldn’t seem to let her go.

“as mine is yours.” she whispered, “every beat belongs to you.”

the corners of his mouth lifted, the faintest trace of a smile breaking through the intensity of the moment.

they stayed like that, connected, their foreheads brushing as the world outside fell away. they didn’t need more words, not now. it was enough—more than enough—to just be.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles concept #harry styles au #subrry #softrry #fratrry #college!harry #frat boy harry #harry styles smut #harry styles angst

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eveningepiphany · 6 months ago

Text

need | h.s oneshot

summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.

warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!

a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍

———

At college, things happen, and they happen fast.

One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.

Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.

It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.

And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.

It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”

“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.

He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”

“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.

One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.

It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.

“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.

His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.

A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.

“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.

Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”

“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.

“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.

“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.

“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”

“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”

He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”

“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”

“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.

“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”

“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.

“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.

He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”

He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.

“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.

“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.

“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.

“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.

Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.

He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.

“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”

You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”

“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.

You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.

He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.

You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.

He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.

An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.

“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.

“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.

His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.

“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.

You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.

“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.

A wrong move and he will use it against you.

“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.

“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.

You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.

He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”

“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”

His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.

The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.

“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.

Everything is in the fine print around here.

You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.

His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.

He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.

Not making a move until you cave against him first.

He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.

Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.

Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.

Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.

You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.

He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.

Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.

Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.

This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.

There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.

Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.

Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.

Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.

Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?

He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.

You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”

Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.

A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.

And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.

Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.

At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.

You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…

Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.

Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.

The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.

His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.

His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.

But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.

Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.

Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.

It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.

You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”

He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.

You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.

It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.

And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…

“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.

Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.

“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.

“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.

But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.

“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.

“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.

The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.

Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.

Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.

As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.

He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”

His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.

“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.

Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.

“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.

His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.

It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.

Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.

There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.

You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.

His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.

“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”

It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”

A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.

His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.

Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.

It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.

Need, need, need.

That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.

“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.

He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”

The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.

“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”

“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.

He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.

“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.

The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.

“Yes, just do it, please.”

He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.

The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.

He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.

“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.

“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”

His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.

“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.

He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.

The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.

It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.

“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”

He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.

You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.

Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.

Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.

“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”

“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.

His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.

A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.

“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.

Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.

“More, Harry.”

A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”

“Need you inside of me.”

When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.

“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—

“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”

His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.

“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.

“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”

“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”

“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.

There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.

Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.

“I’ve got a condom.”

“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.

“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”

You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”

“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.

“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”

“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”

You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”

He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”

“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.

“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.

He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.

His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.

You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.

Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.

Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.

“Fuck Y/N…”

“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”

He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”

He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.

Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.

“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”

You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”

“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.

You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.

He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.

“Harry, Harry please.”

He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.

“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.

“You.”

He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”

“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”

There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.

“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.

“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”

Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.

He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.

You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.

“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.

“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.

“Please, want you to ruin me…”

Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.

He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.

He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.

“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.

He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.

His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.

“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.

“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.

“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.

Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”

“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.

“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”

“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”

“Mouthing you off, huh?”

He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”

“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”

“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.

“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.

And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.

Only time will tell…

———

a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfic #prompts #reader insert #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles smutshot #smut #enemies to lovers #enemies with benefits #college au

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itsnevercasual · 7 months ago

Text

Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry #college harry #college!harry styles #fbh #lhh #phh #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction

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sushistyless · 5 months ago

Text

Kisses in kiwi flavour.

just some early morning love between Y/N and H.

1.2k (blurb). My masterlist!

——————

“Mhm,” Harry grumbles sleepily as he wraps his tatted arms around Y/N’s waist, encasing her with his strong chest. His arrival in their tiny kitchen (but cozy— they’d add) catches her by surprise, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. She melts into his touch, liking the pattern his fingers make as they skate on the bare skin that’s revealed from the way he rucks her (well, previously his) shirt.

“What’s m’precious doing up so early?” He bends down some, the raspy notes of his voice resonating against her neck, and the feel of his lips curving against the canvas of her skin as he speaks slowly.

Y/N breathes in deeply, a smile blooming on her face from his words alone. She flips a pancake, noticing how the golden brown colour on it has spread evenly, and plops it over onto the ceramic plate kept on the side. She nestles further into him as she does so, and Harry’s hold on her tightens, his face now buried in the crook of her neck as he inhales her scent— rosemary and… cinnamon? — revelling in the knowledge that he now has her full attention.

“She’s making pancakes for you. She’s amazing actually.”

Harry grins hazily at her response, kissing her neck and skating his palms gently along her soft waist before giving her love handles a little squeeze. “Don’t doubt that. My dodo is amazing.”

Y/N bites her lip in efforts to stifle her own fluttering laugh, cushioning her head back on his bicep, and leaning back into him. She twists her head to look up at him, fondly gazing over his features while he continues to talk in the drawly velvety voice of his, “But as wonderful as tha’ is, she left me without m’cuddles this morning.” He pouts, giving her puppy dog eyes that are way too easy to fall for, Y/N thinks. “And I need m’girl to give me my daily dose of cuddles t’function.”

He was such a dodo too.

“Oh no,” Y/N gasps dramatically, “How will you live now? I’m getting worked up just thinking about it—” She pretends to faint on his arm, animatedly throwing a hand over her heart and closing her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry warns, the muscles in his cheek resisting the usual urge to twitch into a grin, “She should know that I have her in my arms— in m’clutches— right this second.”

Y/N blows a raspberry, not giving much regard to the threat, instead fanning her hands in front of her face, “Yeah, yeah, right. Like tha—" Her sentence is cut short however, when Harry’s hands move to tickle her sides. A bubble of chirpy laughter immediately bubble out of her system, as she curls into herself as a built in mechanism.

“H-Harry!” She squirms in his embrace, laughs pouring out her lungs, grappling to hold onto his wrists which is almost impossible considering his tactful tickle skills. And even when she does manage to get a hold of him, he’s way too strong for her to move especially when she’s already in an annoyingly compromised situation. “

“Yeah?” He beams, deep dimples making little craters in his cheeks, “Don’t worry now. Her laughs have resurrected me.” His fingers continue to squiggle around her sides until his arms wrap around her form completely, fully holding her to him.

He decides to relieve her by planting a big smooch on her cheek, and there’s quiet in the room from her breathing finally slowing down, heavy pants and little laughs leaving her lips as she calms down. Her fingers move to thread around with Harry’s, a pulse in his grip as she does so.

“Boo you, H,” she beams, panting out, “Absolute meanie.” She shakes her head, eyes betraying her quest to stay unaffected as if they remain with a blushy, joyful little twinkle in her crinkled eyes.

Harry only stares back at her, the biggest smile pulling on his lips. He watches the sparkle in her eyes, happiness cradling his heart at the fact that he could be the cause of that.

“I wanna kiss you, now.” Harry whispers and flips her to face him completely, entranced by the sight of his idiot. His lover. His dodo.

His.

“Yeah?” she counters, slowly pushing herself up to sit on the now empty, slightly flour-y counter. Harry catches on and guides her by the hips, assisting her.

“Yeah.”

That’s when she pops a piece of kiwi from the bowl on the counter into her mouth.

A glint in her eyes is next slowly, and before he knows it, she’s chewing on it.

“Aish. Too bad. Toooo, too bad.” She lets out a soft giggle as she chews, hand covering her mouth, “Such deprivation this is for you. How can you kiss me, when I-I’m eating, Hm?”

“Oh, no.” He smirks at her, “S’bad manners to talk while eating.” He brushes a strand of hair out of his face, his teasing and banter with her mischievous, actions tender. He scrunches his nose some, “Guess it’s time for me to break a rule too, then.”

He moves forward and nudges his nose with hers, and Y/N helps, giggling softly as she pulls back, chewing with her mouth still covered by her hand, a bit of the kiwi juice trickling down her lips. “H! Oh my god, you are—"

“— much less clumsy than you? Yeah, you messy girl. I am.” He grins showing his usual dimples, eyes far too busy twinkling into taking her features as he brings up his thumb and carefully swipes away the little bit of kiwi juice trickling down her chin.

Y/N giggles softly, with a shy glow in her eyes as he does so, finishing her bite. Just as she’s done, in a moment of bold mischief she tries to reach for the bowl again.

“Ah, ah— ahh. Nope.” Harry’s hand immediately reaches for her, pulling it back, a lopsided smile tugging on his lips. “You menace.”

“Oh, I’m the menace?”

“‘Course you are. You’re dodging m’kisses.”

“I’m eating, H! I-" she bubbles out in a laugh, cut off by him.

“Is it ‘cause I ate that last donut you wanted yesterday?” He now pouts, his hold on her tightening as he bends a bit and nudges her nose with his. “Aw, and now you’re upset, Hm?”

She pouts a bit herself, laughing breathily, as she noses back at his nose, eyes closed. “See? You’re so mean. You’re not even sorry about it.”

“‘M such a meanie,” Harry says with a little smile, his eyes fluttering shut as he rests his forehead against hers.

Y/N finally leans in and kisses him, eyes closed too, as the soft touch of her hands behind his neck send tingles down his spine. Supple lips locked in a sweet dance with hers, harry deepens the kiss, tilting his jaw and pulling her flush against his chest, strong arms tightening against her soft frame.

He pulls away barely, eyes full of tender affection as he looks at her own irises, filled with a shy, excited tinge.

He whispers soft, eyelashes fluttering close to hers in a butterfly kiss, “Mmh. Y’taste like Kiwi.”

She kisses him back, barely able to contain her own shy little smile, “And you owe me a donut.”

———

ah, thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and liking! 🤍

#thank you so much for reading!!! <3 #AHH HERE IS A PIECE AFTER SO LONG eeeeep #literally honestly wrote this to break my writers block shehhsuehshs #my writing #Harry styles x reader #Harry styles writing #Harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fiction #college!harry #golden retriever!harry #soft Harry styles #sushistyless #Harry styles blurb #Harry styles one shot #blurbs

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pleasingforharry · 2 years ago

Text

For Your Eyes Only

college!harry x quiet!yn

SUMMARY: Harry didn’t want Y/N to leave for class as he woke up needy and horny. But she needed to go, so he was left alone wishing she were there to take care of him. Maybe there was a way to persuade her to come back home. A text? A video? Something for her eyes only.

WORD COUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Uhhhh smut because I was in a smutty mood.

"Don't go," Harry begged, clutching his girlfriend to his chest. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with Y/N stuck in between his legs. “I need you.” His tone was suggestive. And to make it more obvious, he pushed her naked leg against his clothed cock—hard and throbbing.

Y/N sighed and tangled her hand in his hair. It was beyond messy in the mornings. “I don’t have time, dove. Class starts soon. I’m pretty sure I’ll be late even if I leave now.”

“So, just stay,” He whispered in her ear. Y/N let him handle her so now she sat on his lap, arms loose around his neck. It may have looked as if she was agreeing to stay as she sat comfortably on him. “I’ll make it worth your while. Take care of you so good, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” His voice was raspy from the early morning, but also dark from desperation.

It was very enticing. Y/N gave her boyfriend a light kiss before pulling back before he deepened it. Then appeared that charming smile. “No, dove. I can’t. But I'll come right back, as fast as I can. Promise.” she told him softly. Her lips pressed against his cheek, nose, brows, and back to his own pair of plush lips.

Harry wasn’t ready to give up yet, though. His hand grabbed Y/N’s hips and moved them so her cunt rubbed against his hard cock. “Feel that?” He gazed at her with hooded eyes. Y/N could moan from how fuckable he looked. He bucked his hips up, causing her to gasp. “Just for you, baby. I can make you feel good. Just stay, okay?”

Y/N dropped her forehead on his shoulder in defeat.

“I just know you’re wet. I know my baby too well,” Harry turned his head to reach her ear. He gently bit her lobe. “Come on. Let me eat your pretty cunt out. I want to suck on your little clit while you try to push me away. Then I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. I can make you come so many times. And then we can watch a movie while I massage your puffy pussy lips with my fingers. Maybe accidentally let one slip inside.”

Damnit. She moaned. She couldn’t help it. Neither could her hips as she moved them on her own.

“Harry,” she cried.

“I got you, come on. Stay.” His voice traveled through every inch of her insides.

If Y/N wasn’t so worried about missing an important topic in class, she’d keep her ass right in Harry’s room and let him have his way with her. But as much as she loved to be with Harry, she’d never forgive herself if she missed class over something that could wait.

“Okay, fine,” Y/N sighed and kissed his cheek. “But I’m hungry. Can you make me some breakfast?” Harry’s eyebrows shot up. He was not expecting to win that battle.

He nodded and flipped them over so Y/N was laid out on the bed. “Stay right here, princess. I’ll bring you up something nice,” He said, smiling widely. Y/N patting his jaw. “Thank you for staying. I love you.” He leaned down to kiss her, which she gladly accepted, before Harry shot out the door and down the stairs.

Y/N only laid there for a minute, debating which guilt would make her feel worse. Was it really a big deal if she missed one class? Was it so bad if she left Harry here for only two hours? She thought about it. And then she decided.

Her movements turned quick because she didn't want Harry to catch her in the act. Y/N dressed herself in sweatpants and a tank top that were left in her boyfriend's room and had never returned to her own dorm. She layered it with Harry's hoodie.

There were a pair of crocs that she left in his closet. They had to do. Her bag was against the desk as she slid it on, before leaving the room. She listened for Harry in the kitchen. He wasn’t alone as numerous voice toppled over his.

Y/N planned to sneak out the front door because it wasn’t in view from the kitchen. She crept down the stairs, listening in on Harry's conversation to ensure he wasn't about to go back up to his room.

“You gotta put that thing away, man!” She heard Isaiah complain.

“Why don’t you take care of it for me? If you’re so worried about it,” Harry snapped back. Niall laughed loudly.

“Poor Y/N, how does she even walk after that?” He sighed. “Don’t you feel guilty, H?”

“Mind your own business, Niall.”

“Hey, she’s my friend. I have a right to be concerned about her ability to walk after you destroy her with that absolute weapon!”

Y/N rolled her eyes and continued her journey. She successfully made it out, but hesitated closing the door behind her. Her teeth sunk into her lip as she thought about it. She’s already late. Maybe she could just email her professor to sum up the class.

It was tempting. Very. But she still closed the door and started a light jog to the bus stop.

dove: you left.

my baby: i did. i have class

dove: i made you breakfast

my baby: i know. i asked you to

dove: you tricked me.

my baby: i love you

dove: i need you

my baby: need me from afar

Harry didn’t respond, which surprised Y/N. But she just shrugged it off and flipped her phone over as her professor continued to teach the class. When she arrived, no one looked at her, but her professor gave her a sidelong glance. Y/N blushed profusely and scurried to her seat. She spread her papers out in front of her and caught up with everyone.

On the other hand, Harry wallowed in his room. He ate the breakfast he made for Y/N and sighed with every bite.

The class was two hours—two hours too many for Harry. He was laid out on his bed, huffing and pouting like a child. He missed his girlfriend. And so did his cock. His hand was softly squeezing over his sweats as his other texted Y/N again.

dove: i’m so hard rn

dove: i think i might have to fuck my hand, i cant wait two hours

Y/N placed her phone under the table, before looking at the screen. And she was thankful she did. She shot her eyes to the people sitting next to her, but they were too busy copying what was written on the board.

Her legs twitched at the message, and she shifted in her spot. She lowered her brightness, before responding.

my baby: i’m in class

dove: then come back. maybe ill forgive you

my baby: busy

dove: i need you.

my baby: i’m sorry

The three dots appeared for a while, but then disappeared. Y/N was a little disappointed. She didn’t think he’d back down. Unless both of his hands were busy. She shifted in her seat again, feeling a sudden damp in her panties.

Y/N began to set her phone down when a video sent from Harry appeared. The thumbnail was black, so Y/N clicked on it with curiosity. And her eyes widened when it started.

Harry’s cock filled up the screen with his thick fingers wrapped around it. The tip was red, twitching, and leaking with come. His voice was gravely as he slurred out a moan. Y/N squealed, lowering the volume completely before more was heard. No one glanced at her as the professor boomed her voice.

Harry’s hand moved up and down his cock at a slow pace. Y/N whole body jumped at the sparks that attacked her. The V line that led to his cock was prominent and so kissable. Harry lifted his hips to meet the thrust of his hand.

“Jesus, Harry,” Y/N mumbled, her eyes memorized on every detail of the video. His thigh muscles had Y/N’s breath uneven. She shot her eyes up when the class got suddenly quiet. The professor had asked a question and everyone’s hand went up. But for the first time, Y/N didn’t bother answering. She looked back down at the video of her boyfriend.

Nothing more happened besides Harry fucking his hand. He would occasionally swipe his tip, and his legs would twitch in response. Y/N was so eager to hear the sound, knowing exactly what noise he’d be making.

dove: for your eyes only, baby

Y/N was wet. It was starting to become uncomfortable. She had replayed the video with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Damnit,” she groaned. Her clit was now asking for attention. Y/N's free hand innocently rested on her lap before sliding between her thighs. It just looked as though she was simply warming up her hands with her heat. Her sweats were baggy, so nothing appeared off about her appearance.

Y/N watched the video again while running her finger along her cunt. She poked at her clit and flinched at the pleasure. She imagined how Harry’s cock would slide up her cunt to tease her before pushing in slowly, every inch stretching her.

Fuck.

dove: i want to come

dove: my cock needs you, Y/N. please.

Double fuck.

Y/N slapped her phone down and sat correctly, her attention trying to focus back on the class. She wrote what the professor explained and copied the board. Harry’s cock was red and shiny from the saliva he had spat in his hand. Y/N pushed her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. His thighs muscles thickened when he thrusted up, just like he would when she would get tired on top of him. Y/N pinched her nose to ignore the thoughts. His hand moved faster when he felt close, but stopped to tease himself.

Triple fuck!

Y/N gathered her things and stuffed them into her bag. She was quiet but fast, making sure to not disrupt the class—whatever topic they were on. Her phone pinged, and she flipped it over as she expected Harry’s text.

dove: please tell me you're wet. are your thighs clenching together and your pretty fucking clit puffy?

Her grip on her phone tightened. She put it in her pocket before gathering the rest of her belongings. She slug her bag over one shoulder and excused herself out of the classroom.

Y/N walked with speed to the closest bathroom. Fortunately, not many classes were in session in the building, so the few stalls in that smaller bathroom were empty. Y/N took out her phone as she leaned against the counter.

my baby: i’m in the bathroom

my baby: can’t focus anymore. thanks for that

Harry answered right away.

dove: are you wet?

my baby: so wet.

She could imagine Harry moaning at her text.

my baby: did you come yet?

dove: ofc not. its only going to be inside of you

Y/N covered her mouth to gasp. She walked into the farthest stall and locked it shut. She threw her bag to the side and pressed her back against the wall.

dove: what are you doing in the bathroom?

my baby: you know what

Her hand shoved into her sweats. She didn’t waste any time pushing her panties to the side and collecting the juices that instantly coated her fingers.

dove: tell me

my baby: you don’t deserve to know. but i can tell you it feels really good.

Y/N wasn’t lying. Her thumb and index finger pinched her clit, causing her to moan in the echoing, empty room. Her hand holding her phone dropped to the side as she focused on her fingers. She pushed her ring finger inside herself, imaging it was Harry’s. That made her eyes roll back.

Suddenly, her phone started to ring. Y/N looked down and saw Harry’s contact on screen. She smirked through her gasps. “Fuck,” she whined, before declining the call. Her hand dropped again.

dove: answer. let me see you.

Y/N typed with one hand while the other plunged more fingers into her cunt. Her eyes were turning glassy that it was kind of hard to see.

my baby: not yet.

dove: just wait until you come back, baby. i promise I’m going to fuck you dumb

Y/N moaned at the text. Her legs warned to give out, but she didn’t want to sit naked on the bathroom floor. Harry had too much power over her when it should’ve been the other way around. So, she had an idea.

Y/N swiped to the camera app and pressed the video tab. Her phone was between her legs, revealing everything. She started recording, looking down at the screen with a whiny face—eyebrows drawn together, lips parted as she gasped with each thrust of her fingers.

“Yes,” she moaned, touching her sensitive clit. “I want to come so bad. Fuck. I need it, dovie,” She hissed. “I have to do it all by myself.” Her head fell back against the wall, the camera shaking from her wavering hand. Her fingers shot into her cunt and curled, just like Harry would do to earn the most symphonic noises from her.

The video was filled with heavy breathing and wet fingers moving inside of Y/N’s cunt. Her thighs clamped together.

“I can’t hold this anymore,” Y/N sighed, raising the camera to her face. She stared back at her flushed cheeks and smiled. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Y/N ended the video and boldly sent it to Harry.

A few minutes of silence passed. During that time, Y/N stopped playing with herself and cleaned up with toilet paper. She was desperately horny, and just as needy as her boyfriend, but really didn’t want to come in the bathroom alone.

When she was composed, Y/N walked to the door to leave, but a message from Harry finally went through.

dove: Y/N, come to my dorm right now.

my baby: i have to get back to class.

dove: then im on my way

Y/N chuckled with a roll of her eyes.

Yeah right.

my baby: ill see you later

Y/N left the bathroom and snuck back into her classroom. Maybe she was gone for a suspiciously long amount of time because the classmates that sat besides her gave her an up and down glance. One raised their eyebrows and chuckled.

Y/N wanted to die on the spot.

Another ten minutes passed, and Y/N was able to rejoin the class as if she had never left. She quickly caught up on her notes and answered some of the questions the professor asked. It felt good to be back and focused on what was important. Not her boyfriend, who should be at his dorm pouting and waiting for the time to roll by.

She was wrong.

Her phone pinged, and she was going to ignore it, but after another buzz to her thigh, she looked.

dove: im outside your classroom. come here

dove: i’ll gladly walk in and take care of business on your professor’s desk

Y/N eyes widened as she read the messages. She cursed under her breath, considering what to do. Harry wouldn’t actually do that—storm into her class and cause a scene, but the fact that he was here, in the building, caught her off guard.

Once again, her papers were collected and stuffed back into her bag. Y/N waited until her professor turned away to face the board, before scurrying out. She could feel the heat of eyes on her back, and her hand connecting to Harry’s face when she finds him.

Just like he said he was, Harry leaned against the wall by her classroom door. He looked out into the distance with a smug smile, lost in thought. Y/N puffed out a breath, earning his attention. His smile turned into a devilish smirk.

“Hello, baby,” He said, stalking towards her.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N stepped forward and hit his chest. “Everyone saw me leave twice because of you. I’m so fucking embarrassed. I’ll have to drop the class now. I can’t walk in there ever again. You—”

Y/N was cut off by a hard kiss from Harry. He grasped her neck and held her there, immediately shooting his tongue into her mouth. Y/N moaned within the kiss, holding onto Harry’s wrist. He pulled away an inch to speak. “What bathroom were you in?” He asked in a voice so low, Y/N could barely hear him.

Her head motioned to her right. “Down the hall. It’s the smallest in the building so more likely that I’d be alone,” She explained. The end of Harry’s lips curled up.

“Perfect.” He kissed her roughly again before moving behind her. He pushed his cock against her ass and sighed in relief. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Harry pressed closely to his girlfriend as she walked them to the bathroom she previously occupied. He leaned down to find her ear. “I missed you. And I love you.” Y/N looked up at him.

“I know, and I know,” She giggled, stopping in her tracks to push her ass back against him, before continuing to walk.

The couple made it to the bathroom, and it was empty. Harry thanked the heavens because no one deserved to hear the noises he was soon to yank out of Y/N’s throat.

“Which stall?” He asked. Y/N pointed to the farthest one, and the biggest. “Get in there.”

She turned to face him. “You’re staying here?” He lifted his chin, staring down at her degradingly.

“When you get inside, you take off this hoodie and bra. Then you get on your knees and wait patiently for my cock. Understand?” Harry instructed. His hand swiftly wrapped around her neck.

Y/N gulped—nervously and excitedly, she wasn’t sure—before nodding.

“Finally listening. Good girl.” Harry smacked her ass. “Go.”

Y/N went inside the stall and shut the door behind her, but didn’t lock it. She placed her bag on the wall opposite of her. Harry was quiet on the other side, and it grew nerves inside of her. What was he doing?

Like he told her to do, his hoodie came off, so did her tank top and bra. She stuffed them inside her bag so it wasn’t on the floor. Finally, she sank down to her knees and shuddered. She was facing the door, so whoever opened it would have a full view of everything.

Y/N’s eyes saw Harry’s feet near the sink, deadly still. He didn’t move for a while, nor made any sound. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to tell him she was ready, but it had to be obvious because it’s been a while.

“I made sure I didn’t come, this morning,” Harry suddenly spoke. Y/N flinched in surprise. “Even after you left, after I texted you, sent that video, watched yours and fucking almost died on the spot, Y/N, I stopped myself. You know why?” Y/N wanted to soak into the floor by the authority of his voice. He sounded mad. Good.

Y/N watched his feet move closer to her stall. They stopped when he was exactly on the other side.

“You want to know why I made sure I didn’t come after the painful hardon I had?” Harry asked. The door swung open and there he was. Eyes filled with desire, lips panting out harsh breaths. And his cock out of his boxers and sweats. It was slapped up against his chest—thick, veiny, and perfectly fitted for any of Y/N’s holes.

The girl gasped as she stared straight at his cock. Her mouth dared to water at the sight.

Harry leaned forward, and Y/N had to tilt her chin up to meet him face to face. His tilted to the side in a teasing manner. It felt degrading with her naked on the floor as he stood, almost clothed, with a shit eating grin.

“Because I promised myself that when I have you, this heavy load that I’ve been carrying is going to fill every inch of you,” Harry finished as he grabbed Y/N’s jaw. He made sure she continued to look at him. “And you will take everything I give you. I almost feel bad about how much you'll leak when I take you back to my room and do it all over again.”

Maybe Y/N shouldn’t have teased him.

She smiled sincerely at him. “Is it too late to apologize?” Harry chuckled and let go of her jaw to stand back up straight. He took his cock into his hand.

“You’re about to apologize right now,” He said. “Now open.”

Y/N was timid to do so, but her mouth widened anyway. Her boyfriend definitely wasn’t small, and it always took some time for him to fit anywhere inside of her. But she was still obsessed with him. He was pretty, and veiny, pink at the tip, and reactive every time she was near. It made her feel special.

Harry sighed at the sight of Y/N. His hand tugged on his cock. Not that he really needed to because he was already as hard as he could get. He’d been waiting for this all morning.

Harry pressed his thumb into Y/N’s lower lip to push it down further. His other hand directed his cock into her mouth. Y/N subconsciously closed around him, hollowing her cheeks. Harry hissed at the warmth around him. He tangled his fingers into her hair for a grip.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” He asked her. Y/N looked up at him with doe eyes and nodded. “I don’t think so,” He teased.

Harry doesn’t waste another minute stuffing his cock into Y/N’s mouth like he dreamt of since that morning. His body tensed up as he let out a predatory moan. Y/N used her hand to stroke the inches that couldn’t fit in her mouth.

She bobbed her head quickly, feeling Harry twitch inside of her. He could drop on the spot from how weak in the knees he felt. His thighs gladly accepted her sharp nails digging into the flesh.

He wanted it to leave a mark.

Harry’s cock was finally getting the attention it needed. It was warm inside Y/N’s mouth and was teased by her tongue that petted the veins along the sides. His tip pressed the back of her throat, causing her to gag and back away briefly. But Harry had a hold on her hair to guide himself back inside of her.

Moans were spilling out him. “I’m already about to come, baby. Doing so good for me,” Harry praised her. He looked down to watch Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as she focused on sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. She fondled his balls to quicken the process. “Gonna let me fuck your face now? Finally adjusted to my cock?” He needed to get control again before he got lost in the pleasure. She did that to him.

Y/N nodded and dropped her hands to his thighs for leverage. Harry drew his eyebrows together as he held her by the hair. He planned to start at a slow pace, but as Y/N tried to move her head closer to suck him in, he knew she was ready for him. Needy thing.

Harry kept Y/N’s head still, before snapped his hips forward. He tested the waters and watched for a reaction. Y/N shut her eyes while a muffled moan strained out of her. Harry took that as the confirmation to keep going.

His thrusts were quick. Each time he went in, he’d hit the back of her throat. It felt like heaven. Y/N moaning around him sent vibrations to every nerve in his cock. She watched his stomach muscles—covered by ferns—react to each thrust. She loved the view.

Her eyes turned glassy from the tears building up. Her jaw was tired and sore, but it was only the beginning. She was ready for it all.

Harry didn’t back down on his speed. His hips were fast and direct, never missing a beat or shifting. He hit the same place each time. “Fucking love your mouth, baby,” He spoke out loud. “The perfect shape. Made for me, I swear.” He groaned as he looked down at Y/N drooling from the corner of her mouth.

There was a puddle dripping in her sweats. Y/N was extremely wet that she dared the thought of taking care of herself right in front of him. But it was a death wish to try. Harry had a plan for her.

His grip in her hair tightened, pulling a moan out of her. He was close. His head threw back again, Y/N getting the perfect view of the underside of his chin. His neck was thick and veiny as he clenched his teeth together. He was letting out hard pants.

“Gonna fill your mouth with my come, baby. You’re gonna swallow it all like my good girl?” Y/N nodded, unintentionally bobbing her head to match his thrust. She shifted on her knees in anticipation. She loved the taste, the saltiness of his come. It spurted in her mouth like a dart from how hard he usually comes. She had pride from being able to make him do that.

Harry stopped his movements as he moaned out a gasp. “Take it all, Y/N. I’m not asking.” Her thighs wanted to squeeze together.

After one last thrust, Harry was shooting down Y/N’s throat. His moaning and heavy breathing got louder as he released. He repeated Y/N’s name under his breath, and it was music to her ears.

Harry pulled out, allowing Y/N to swallow properly. She smiled like an angel as she enjoyed the taste in her mouth. Harry had a hand on the stall door to balance himself.

“Open,” He said to her through pants. She stuck her tongue out. Every drip was gone and down her throat. “You’re fucking amazing. I don’t think I tell you enough.” Y/N laughed.

“You don’t. You only tell me three times a day. I need more.” Harry winked at his girlfriend and stood back up straight. Y/N wanted to discard her sweats as her panties were destroyed, and soon her sweats.

Harry grabbed Y/N by the armpits and lifted her to her feet.. She had to hold onto his shoulders. Her body was on complete fire, mostly her bruised throat and scalp. But it felt amazing.

“You okay, baby? Too much?” Harry held Y/N by her hips, their bodies close together, as he asked her. He kissed her cheek, before backing his head to look at her.

Y/N smiled drunklike. Her throat was tight, and she didn’t trust herself to speak. So, she did it by grabbing his face and engulfing him in a wild kiss. Harry tasted himself on her tongue.

“I can take that as a ‘yes’?” He chuckled when she stopped. Y/N nodded and quickly kissed him again. “Okay, good. Stand at the wall and hold onto it,” He instructed, flicking his eyes to the spot he wanted her at.

Y/N did her best to walk over there with a seductive sway of her lips. Harry smiled proudly at her. He leaned down to pull his sweats and boxers down, stepping out of them. Y/N didn’t see as she was facing the wall.

Harry approached her from behind and did the same with her sweats. “Lift your feet, baby. Let me get you out of these.” He helped her slid the rest of her clothes off until they were both naked. “This is a sight I need embroidered in my head,” Harry commented as he unabashedly examined Y/N’s posed body leaning against the wall. She smiled shyly and looked away, facing the wall again.

Harry stood behind Y/N, kissing the back of her neck as his arms wrapped around her body. His cock poked into her ass, and she pushed back against it. She was actually dripping down her thighs now that her panties were gone.

He sucked a mark on her shoulder and another on her shoulder blade. He peppered more kisses down her back, before traveling back up until he found her ear.

“Ready to take me like a good girl, baby?” Harry asked. Y/N arched at the question and nodded. “Say it. I don’t care if your voice is gone. I want to hear you want me.” She whined with her head falling back on his shoulder. Harry grabbed her breasts and squeezed them in response.

She let out a breath, before struggling to properly say, “I’m ready for you. I want your cock in me so bad, dove.”

“Yeah?” Harry smirked and kissed her jaw. “You want my cock?” Y/N nodded, pushing into him again to prove her point. She was thinking of just reaching back and doing the work herself. She was over the teasing.

“Yes. Please.”

“Alright, I got you. You’re gonna take me so well. I just know you will,” Harry whispered, dragging his hand down her stomach and around her hip to her ass. He squeezed her cheek, before finding his cock and holding it. “My baby is gonna let me fuck her so hard, yeah? Apologize for leaving me all alone this morning, huh?” Y/N nodded, even though she really wanted to roll her eyes hard enough that her pupils disappeared.

Harry held Y/N by her waist—an arm horizontal across it—while lining himself with her cunt. Y/N waited in anticipation. Her hands holding the wall in front of her. She arched her back and bit her lip.

A gasp was shared between the couple when Harry finally pushed into Y/N completely. His lower abdomen touched her ass. Harry was in complete bliss that he had to stay still for a moment because of the overwhelming pleasure. He placed his hands over Y/N’s against the wall. He curled his fingers between hers.

“Fuck me,” He groaned as Y/N panted. She thought his cock in her mouth took her voice away. No, it was his cock stretching her walls as if it were their first time. He slipped in so easily from her wet cunt inviting him in eagerly. “Good, princess?”

“Yeah. Yes. Fuck, yes,” Y/N nodded rapidly. Her eyes fluttered shut so her senses were directed to Harry leaving her cunt briefly before plunging right back inside. Her hands turned into fist—one of Harry’s held the back of hers, but the other dropped to her hip for leverage. She felt his nails dig into her hip.

He started a slow pace so they could cherish the tightness of Y/N’s walls and Harry’s thick cock filling her up. Y/N choked on her own moans at each thrust. Her ass snapped back in its own. Harry loved it.

“Alright, baby. I’m done being gentle with you,” Harry whispered in her ear. “Ready?”

“Mhmmm. Yes,” Y/N answered, followed by incoherent noises that added to Harry’s list of his favorite things he’s heard come out of her mouth.

Both of Harry’s hands were on her hips. His grip was rough that it was for sure going to leave marks. For his eyes only, though.

He fastened his thrust, jumping to a brutal speed. The skin slapping sounded of an audience clapping at an award show. Loud, fast, and full of pride. That’s what Harry felt as Y/N took him perfectly.

His head tilted up to the ceiling with his eyes shut. He buried himself in the pleasure of his cock being covered by what it yearned for. Not his hand, but the cunt made for it. His cock was home, and it wasn’t leaving any time soon.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Harry moaned loudly as he felt his legs almost give out. His pace didn’t stop, it actually went faster. Y/N gasped at the fiery of his thrust. He was getting his revenge, and she loved the pain that was included.

“Keep going, dove. I want it,” Y/N panted out. She searched behind her for some part of him. Harry felt her hand on his shoulder and smiled. He let go of her hip to twist her arm behind her back—a new kind of leverage. Y/N whined as she wanted some sort of comfort. But as he squeezed at her wrist, her eyes rolled back.

“You’re so warm and tight, baby. I can stay in you all fucking day. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop,” Harry spoke over the skin slapping. Y/N had a moment of weakness from his voice. She had to use the wall to stop herself from falling on the floor. “I got you, princess. I’m not letting you go anywhere. You’re taking all of this,” Harry chuckled as he watched her struggle in front of him.

Harry barely spoke like that during sex. He was gentle, holding back on the teasing because he was too caught up in the love of their intimacy. But today, he was pissed. And he was going to make sure she felt it.

He switched his thrust again. Snapping his hips hard into her at a slow pace. Y/N yelped each time, feeling him reach deeper than before. She looked down at her stomach.

“What? You feel me in there, princess?” Harry asked. He pushed into her and groaned. “I do too. Reaching so deep inside my baby. Only I can do that, right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes. Only you. More.” Her words were wavering, but he still understood. He always knew what do to satisfy his girl. She would turn into a moaning, mumbling mess because of him. He loved that power.

Harry wasn’t stopping anytime soon, but Y/N could feel her release creeping up on her. He noticed because she was squeezing his cock more frequently and writhing in her spot. She was too busy whimpering to tell him. Her ass tried to meet his thrust like before, but she was tired and ready to burst.

Her forehead met the wall. “I’m... dovie, I—”

“I know, babygirl. Doing so fucking good. Gonna lick that pretty little cunt of yours when we get home,” Harry whispered to her. She moaned through heavy breaths. He was trying to kill her.

Harry continued to throw praise and light degradation to tease her. Y/N took it all with whining moans. Her knees bent and wiggled. She was getting close. Harry, on the other hand, she wasn’t so sure as he’d snap into her with a loud, gravely moan, causing her clit to throb, before pulling out slowly and doing the same again.

“Can I hold onto you? I’m close,” Y/N cried out. Harry was still holding her arm down behind her back. His face grew soft at her request.

He briefly stopped his thrust. “Of course, my good girl,” He chuckled. “Turn around.” Y/N did so, and Harry wanted to kiss all over her. She looked spent but not completely satisfied.

His hands grabbed her legs and picked her up while they wrapped around his waist. He pressed her to the wall, smiling up at her. She returned it and kissed him. Her arms locked around his neck.

Harry slid his cock back into her and continued his fast, furious pace. Y/N cried out every curse she could think of while twisting Harry’s name into the mix. It was getting him close to his own release. Hearing her beg him to bring her to euphoria became his most important mission.

Fuck revenge. He would do anything right now to please his girl.

Harry reached between them to rub at her clit. It was throbbing fast like her heartbeat against his chest. “Mmmm, my baby’s clit is so warm and pretty,” He said, pressing his lips against Y/N’s opened ones. She was trying her best to breathe properly. “It’s all mine. I get to rub it all day, all night. Make my girl feel so fucking good. That’s all I want to do. Make you feel so good. Okay?”

Y/N suddenly came, gasping loudly and digging her nails into Harry’s back. With a few slow thrust, he was right behind her.

Harry smoothly rode Y/N through her orgasm, whispering more sweet nothings in her ear as his fingers quickened its rubbing on her clit. His cock continued to spurt more come that he stayed deep inside of her.

The couple were panting in sync now, reminiscing the sinful activity they partook in this innocent bathroom.

Harry pushed his cock into her a few more times. “Making sure all my come stays in there. Keep hold of it for me.” Y/N giggled and kissed his neck. It was all just dirty talk. Harry knew Y/N should pee and clean up her legs.

He pulled out of Y/N, before placing her on the toilet. While she peed, he gathered their clothes from the floor and her bag. He bent down to slip her panties and sweats back on. She put on the rest of her clothes herself so Harry could catch up with his own.

When they were completely dressed, Harry lifted Y/N back in the air and held her against him. Her legs wrapped around his waist again.

“How ya feel, baby?” He asked her, walking to her bag in the corner. He slipped his arms through the straps so he was wearing it himself.

“Sore. Very fucking sore. It’s not fair,” she pouted. Harry chuckled and kissed her puffed out lip.

“Well, your only break is during the drive back to my room. Use it wisely,” Harry said, nonchalantly. Y/N eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? We’re doing this all over again.” His smile was wicked. Y/N sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Harry walked them out the bathroom and to his truck.

Y/N really shouldn’t have teased him.

dont even say it. i know. im ashamed. but fuck, it was kinda good

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x yn #college!harry x quiet!yn #College!Harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff

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chaoticloving · 2 years ago

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afterparty

frat/hockey!harry styles x reader

summery: after an intense after party from harry winning the game, the fire alarm get set off, revealing a secret relationship

warning: allusions to sex

a/n: TESTS DONE FUCK YEAH

The after party was intense, to put lightly.

After another amazing win by Harry and his team, they organized a party at the frat. Beer, booze, and vodka was all throughout the house—sprite for the designated drivers—and cheers could be heard all along campus.

Y/n and Harry had a quite relationship, no one knew that the future hockey star and the genius future lawyer were dating. An unluckily pair that met during an Economics class, in a time where Y/n had no clue what she wanted to do in her life and Harry had little confidence in his hockey career. They happen to sit next to each other, taking subtle glances at each other. But it was when Y/n noticed Harry’s excelling scores in the math heavy portion of the lesson class that she saw her chance to strike, and start conversation.

It’s all history now. They are older, their last year in college, plans in the works for the rest of their lives; nothing was for certain, except that they would stay together. They are confident, they found their right path and are happy—they just can’t fess up to their friends that their together. They both feel guilt, but it’s their life, and they can inform people on certain aspects of it at the right time.

But at the party, they hung out, talked with friends, drunk, played games, drunk, and made subtle gestures to each other that everyone was too drunk to realize how crude they were. The party was loud, music tearing the eardrums of people as they danced, and it was packed. It was for certain that you would have someone’s sweat on you by the end of the night.

But that wasn’t the after party.

It wasn’t an official party, in fact, only Y/n and Harry were present. It was intimate and loving moment between the couple; close, passionate, and sloppy. They were drunk, so it wasn’t the most complex of sex that they’ve ever had, but it was damn good.

The aftermath of laying naked in Harry’s bed was just as great, sobering up and loving the heat radiating from each other. Harry had his face buried in Y/n’s chest, arms wrapped snuggly around the women’s torso as Y/n had her hands mixed in his hair, massaging his scalp nicely. Harry’s thumb was softly rubbing her skin, brushing away any and all insecurities she had.

Harry softly hummed when he was drifting off, a way to not let his mind wonder to worrisome thoughts and that was subtle enough to allow Y/n to rest. He liked making up melodies or replicating some song he heard at the gym.

His humming was coming to a end though—Y/n’s heart rate was softening and causing Harry’s to do the same, he was drifting off, mind mush of wacky dreams of Y/n. She had fallen asleep around five minutes into his humming, passing out after the exhausting party and the even more tiring sex, but made sure her love for Harry was known to settle any worrying midnight doubts.

A loud blaring alarm ruined their night though. Harry had fully awoken first since not being in REM in the first place. He turning over and noticed the sound coming from the fire alarm. His eyes went wide as he used his arms that were around Y/n and gripped her hard, pulling her up with him and waking her in the process.

“Wha’s that noise.” She mumbled, eyes not even fully open.

“Fire alarm. We need to get out.” Harry had put a sweatshirt of his on Y/n guiding it through her head and then put boxers on straight after.

He grabbed a pair of boxers for himself, turning around to see Y/n a little more awake as she put her arms in the sleeves and stood up. Harry was panicking, so he did the sane thing and lifted her up and took her through the house to the closest exit.

Him and Y/n were met with the cold wind of three in the morning. Other members of the team were outside the house, all equally shivering and trying to warm themselves up in their boxers and shirts. A few were straggling behind the couple, but no one until Louis noticed there was one more person accounted here then what should be.

“Alright, who’s extra is here!” Louis shouted over the alarms. “I’m gonna need to know for the report!”

The guys murmured, snickering about one of their friends getting cocked block by a fire; until the eyes fell on the only guy in plane boxers, hugging someone to his chest, Harry.

“Damn, Harry?”

Laughs roared out as the boys nudged one another. Louis smiled and walked over to his best friend.

“Alright!” He called out the group of boys, getting them back into their own business. Louis looked over the couple, curious as to who the girl it. But when he heard the voice, he was shook.

“Hey Louis.” Y/n mumbled, still a little out of it.

“Y/n?” His mouth is open, head looking up at Harry and then back at the girl; his frat brothers watch the interaction too, all tsking and others smiling, mumbling about getting some cash and pizzas. “No fucking way—are you two just hooking up or..?”

“Together.” Harry asserts, arms tensing more around his girlfriend. “Don’t get any ideas, dick.”

Louis put his hands up, stepping back. “Hey. I wouldn’t, just glad everyone’s out here and safe.”

Louis went over to the fire chief, probably telling them what he knows. Harry hugs Y/n though, looking for a bit of comfort with his friends peering eyes. One of the reasons Harry was unwilling to tell the boys about his relationship is just how much they liked Y/n; he knew damn well she was hot and sexy, so did the other boys, and if they knew she’d be around a lot—no way they wouldn’t make their lives a living hell.

“You good, H?” She whispered softly, thumb stroking Harry’s arm.

“Cold.” Is all he spoke, but Y/n wasn’t buying it.

“Embarrassed?” Y/n offered.

Harry shook his head and kissed his girlfriends shoulder. “Never embarrassed of you, love.” Harry hesitated before continuing. “Just don’t like the idea of the boys knowing we sleep together—I’m terrified for the pranks their going to pull to try and get you to go out with them now.”

Y/n smiled kindly at the dumb boy, he was lovable, but he could be a little stupid sometimes. “No prank or shirtless boy could take me away from you.” She chided.

She squeezed Harry’s Harry’s hand three times, then another three times after. I love you.

After a minute of Louis using wild hand and arm gestures to the fire captain, he finally rallied the boys and Y/n back and gave told them the cost was clear. “And Niall?”

“Yeah mate?”

“Never put another pop tart in the toaster ever again.” Every had an annoyed groan and people started to, playfully, shove the man for interrupting their sleep while simultaneously laughing that he cocked blocked Harry.

“We were sleeping!” Harry would shout back at any man that made that same joke which only made them burst out with laughter even more.

Eventually, since the damages were only a ruined toaster, everyone went back inside and Y/n and Harry snuggled under the covers. Although Harry would never admit it, he loved being the little spoon but facing inwards so his face would rest on Y/n’s boobs, and that’s exactly their current position now.

“Think maybe we should spend tomorrow night at mine?” Y/n offered. “Think Lila is there though.”

Harry snuggled even closer to his girl, drifting off slowly. “Maybe we should just move in together.”

Y/n giggled softly. “As much as I’d love that we are broke uni students. Wait till your off playing Hockey professionally and I have my job; then we’ll talk.”

“Hmmk.” Harry hummed. “Can’t wait until we don’t have to be quite anymore when we have sex.”

“I think you mean you don’t have to be quite anymore.” Y/n sighed softly.

“‘scuse me for telling ya how good ya feel.” Harry words were slowly slurring together, but also talking about sex slowly got him riled up.

“Let go to sleep before you get hard.” Y/n sighed. “Too early for morning wood.”

“Never to early to be horny for you babe.” Harry shifted his body and slightly rolled the couple over so Harry was completely on top of Y/n. “Could fuck you right now.”

“Sure you can.” Y/n said, eyes closed but knowing Harry’s are nearly there too. “Tomorrow we can wake your mates up so let’s save it for then.”

“Alright.” Harry kissed his loves nose. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #college!harry #hockey!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles collage #harry styles oneshot #fratboy!harry #frat!harry

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finelinevogue · 2 years ago

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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 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.”

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writingsfromhome · 6 months ago

Text

Things to Learn II

A/N: I kind of love writing these characters? tsm for the love on the original I’m glad I got to dive back into their story again. I’m starting a taglist so if you’d like to be on it give me a shout :)

Part 1 / 2 / 3 /

————————————————————

Harry rushes out of the toilets so he doesn’t miss the opening scene and nearly crashes into someone standing around the corner.

“Sorry!” He says as he tries to rush on by.

“Harry!?” The person calls his name.

He stops in his tracks and takes a look at who he just bumped into. And of course, it would be her.

“YN,” he swallows the lump forming in his throat. “Hi-uh what are you doing here?”

“Watching a movie?” She raises a brow. Still the same attitude as before.

“Oh! Right. Yeah. Me too-“

“Which movie are you here for?”

“The Planet of the Apes reruns,” Harry points to the door he so badly wants to walk through. As much as he wanted to stand here and talk to YN, have her attention all to himself, he wanted to watch the movie he came here for more.

“Well I’m here for that new romcom but Raina ditched me to go to that riverbank bonfire bullshit everyone’s talking about. But I hate smelling like campfire afterwards plus I already bought popcorn-“

“Didn’t that movie start 15 minutes ago?” Harry notices she’s standing in front of the poster. Why was she hovering outside?

“Well yeah because I’m wondering if I should be the loser inside watching a romcom by herself.”

Harry doesn’t know if he should be offended—he regularly watched movies by himself during the summer when he had nothing else to do. But then he realizes YN and her opinions weren’t something he took offence to ever since he put down his intellectually superior flag.

“Well I’m here with Caleb if you want to-“

“Bloody hell I was waiting for you to get the hint,” she brushes past Harry and he trails behind, confused.

“You wanted to watch Planet of the Apes?”

“No! I just didn’t want to watch a movie by myself. And you were supposed to invite me.”

“Oh,” these were the social rules Harry often missed. It was sort of nice having YN spell it out for him. “You could have just said-“

“Shh,” she shushes him as they enter the theatre.

Harry was pleased at the way Caleb’s eyes bugged out of his head at the sight of YN.

“I thought you were going to the toilet?” He whispers loudly.

“I was but she-“ Harry cuts off as someone in front turns around with a dirty look. The movie hadn’t even started.

YN sits beside Harry and begins snacking on her popcorn. She hogs the armrest and he lets her, and when she pulls out her sweets and offers it to Harry and his friend they end up swapping most of their snacks. Despite being distracted at first he has a really fun time with the two of them.

Outside in the lobby after the movie is done, YN hesitates after throwing out her trash. It looks like she was wondering if she should stick around or not.

“Thanks,” she finally tells Harry. “Let’s not do this again though.”

“You joined us,” Harry reminds her. She eyes both him and Caleb.

“Yeah, exactly?” She says with a hand on her hip.

“I’m j’saying we weren’t the ones ditched here,” Harry says before he could stop himself. Her pleasant expression falls and Harry can see Caleb concentrate on something far away. Coward.

“Firstly I was invited to join the party but like I said I don’t like smelling like campfire. Secondly, just cuz I told you I was ditched doesn’t make you-“

“Um, I gotta go.” Caleb pipes in from behind. Both Harry and YN turn to him and he almost shrinks. “My ride is here um…”

“See ya later,” Harry cups his hand and Caleb bolts out faster than a cat seeing a dog.

“You were saying?” Harry turns back to YN.

“Look,” she points to the other theatre, the one she’d been standing in front of when Harry bumped into her. “The next showing starts in a bit.”

Harry stares, trying to figure out what she was asking.

“We could watch it?”

“I thought we shouldn’t do this again?”

“Shut up,” she starts walking away.

“Isn’t this illegal?” Harry catches up to her. “I don’t even want to watch this movie.”

“Actually you do,” she grabs his arm and pulls him up the stairs even though he’s following her anyway. Harry tries not to focus on the exact part of his arm she’s touching but it feels warmer than usual. “And secondly nobody is going to kick us out. It doesn’t even matter, do something illegal once in a while.”

Harry follows along with her and they end up having a lot more fun at the second movie. He actually finds it funny and it reminds him of watching these during the holidays with his sister and mum. YN leans her head on his shoulder during an emotional scene and Harry feels like he’s made of clay until she takes it off and laughs at the next scene.

“You had fun, admit it!” YN says as they walk out of the theatre. It was close to midnight now and Harry was planning on walking home.

“Maybe!” Harry doesn’t.

“Liar,” she skips ahead of him. “Secretly you thought my romcom was a lot cooler than your Ape movie.”

“Planet of the Apes, and you enjoyed that one.”

“I’m not denying it,” she shrugs. “C’mon I know you’ve got a sister don’t you watch romcoms with her?”

Harry seems disturbed by the idea, “Not that sort. We watch holiday ones during Christmas but-“

“Oh my god like the Holiday?”

“Yeah I’ve seen that a billion times. And there’s one with Keira Knightley-“

“Oh I bet there is,” she nudges him and Harry blushes. “She does seem your type.”

“Yeah and you probably love Jude Law in The Holiday.”

“Well yeah he’s alright,” she pouts her mouth and doesn’t finish her sentence.

“No way,” Harry laughs. “It’s not Jude Law.”

“You know who’s peng? Tom Hardy. There’s a man I’d watch in a romcom over and over.”

“What?” Harry didn’t know who that was but now he was curious.

“Yeah. You should look him up. Anyway, my ride’s gonna be here any minute so I’m staying here.”

“Oh. Yeah right.” Harry thought they were walking home together but she stays near the closest bus shelter. “Well bye.”

“Bye,” she waves him off.

He doesn’t think he’d see her again that summer. But the next morning she sends him a text saying it was fun and he should come over some time to broaden his romcom education. He thinks she’s joking but the following Tuesday she shows up at his house with DVDs and Percys and although Harry’s mum is surprised to see a girl friend at the house, she orders them pizza and his family gives him the den all to themselves.

After watching two movies back to back and feeling sick from all the junk they’ve consumed they lay on the floor. As evening falls through the wispy curtains of his front window Harry asks YN about her summer and uni. She’s cagey and likes to turn questions around on him but it’s nice talking to her like that with most of her guard down. It almost feels like they’re friends.

***

YN shows up at Harry’s house after dinner. His butt is glued down on his sofa ready to settle into a night of playing video games but the ringing at the door interrupts him.

“Harry!” His sister calls out from somewhere. He was closest to the door and on his way there he peeks through the curtains of the den to see a familiar head of hair. In a cap.

“Hey!” She walks right in.

“Hey…” Harry looks at her get-up: a tanktop and gauzy skirt paired with the trainers she always wore.

“Oh YN,” Harry’s mum pokes her head down from the staircase. “You haven’t been around in a while how are things?”

“Hi Mrs. Styles.” YN was always the perfect angel in front of his parents but his mum was right, it had been a couple weeks since she came by. “I’m good! I’ve been working a few shifts at the shop I do summers at. I had the day off I’m trying to convince Harry to come out with me.”

She was, Harry thought. And she had a summer job?

He’s reminded that no matter how much closer they got, she was always somewhat of a mystery.

“Oh where are you heading out?” Harry’s mum walks down a few steps and sits down.

“There’s a get-together of some of our school friends. Harry never shows up to these things so-“

“Harry,” his mum joins in. “You should go!”

“I never even said no, jeez!” Harry grows flustered.

“But he was totally going to,” YN says to his mum. She laughs and Harry feels peer-pressured.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

“Well be safe,” his mum gets back up. “Make good decisions.”

Harry glares at YN when his mum clears the area and she smiles sweetly back at him.

“Oops.”

“For the record I don’t want to go.”

“Exactly,” she smiles. “Now where’s your room we need to put you in something better than that.”

He was in very comfortable sweatpants and a tee. By the time he was leaving he was in was a short sleeved button-up layered over the same tee and shorts he didn’t even know he owned. She’d forced him to take his glasses off and wear contacts then ruffled his hear with gel and she’d been so close every one of Harry’s senses had been hyper-tuned to her. YN had been oblivious.

“I can’t find my phone,” Harry pats his pockets down as they go downstairs.

“Just leave without it! We’re gonna be late!”

“Can you just call it?” Harry’s halfway up the steps. “I can’t leave without it.”

YN rolls her eyes and calls it. It rings from the den and she walks towards it.

“Seriously?” She walks back out. “You never changed my name?”

Future Prime Minister YN with a heart. It had stayed the same since their group project.

“I guess not,” Harry suddenly feels even more self conscious.

“You can keep the heart,” she goes into his contacts after holding his phone up to his face.

“Hey I never said you could go in!”

“Shush!” She smirks as she updates her name. “There.”

“You don’t want to change the photo?” Harry asks and sighs at her new name: HRH 💖

“No time. Let’s go!” She pushes him out the door.

“I’m going I’m going!” Harry closes the door behind him and they set off down the road.

“You’re so lucky your mum’s so chill,” YN says as they walk.

“Where are we going?” Harry asks.

“My mum thinks I’m at Raina’s watching movies or some shite. Your mum actually like, encouraged you to go out. She didn’t even give you a curfew.”

“Well I never do this,” Harry replies. “What is this anyway.”

“Another bonfire-“

“Does Raina do those like every week?” Harry remembered something about this that night they bumped into each other at the cinema.

“No,” YN says, offended that he would criticize her friend in any way. “The guy she’s seeing right now knows a guy. They do them like a couple times a month. If they did it every week don’t you think someone would catch on?”

Harry shrugs.

“Anyway, you have a decent closet why do you always dress so…boring?”

“I don’t dress boring,” Harry shoves his hand into his pockets. “I’m just comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable,” she points out.

Harry eyes her outfit again, she looked nice and her legs looked particularly nice in the skirt. Harry looks up in the silence he’d just created to find YN staring at him with a raised brow.

“Had a good look?” She punches his arm.

“Ow,” Harry rubs his arm but he deserved it. He’d been oggling. But ever since she’d gotten into his face to run her gelled fingers through his hair, and the cloud of her shampoo or perfume whatever it was closed in around him he’s having a hard time not glancing at her every opportunity.

“Have you got anyone you’re seeing?” Harry asks.

“Nope,” she pops her p. “With uni starting I didn’t really want to let a guy distract me and fuck with my feelings.”

“Wow,” it slips out of Harry’s mouth.

“What?” She narrows her eyes. “And we’re going right here.”

They turn the corner and she asks Harry again what his reaction meant.

“Nothing. I’m just surprised you’re not having a summer fling or something.”

“God Harry, do you think I just date boys to get off or something? I’ve barely had a boyfriend-“

She cuts herself off.

“What?” Harry missed what happened.

“Nothing.”

“Aw c’mon you can’t say ‘nothing’ now,” Harry pushes. After knowing YN this long, she was still scary, but he’d learned where and how to poke at her to get more answers without getting his head bitten off. “You’ve dated plenty of guys.”

“For someone with his nose in a book all the time you claim to know a lot about who I’m dating.”

“It’s hard not to miss what everyone’s talking about.”

“So you believe all the rumours? In that case it’s probably true you cried your first time.”

“What?!” Harry flushes. “Who said that?”

“But rumours are true right?”

“Fine. You just always had one of the football blokes nearby I just-“

“So you just thought I dated the whole team?”

Fuck, Harry realizes he’d screwed up when she starts to speed walk away. He’d spoken before thinking about what it might sound like from her end.

She starts to walk ahead and Harry fastens his pace to catch up. He reaches out and clasps her shoulder. “YN wait I’m sorry. I didn’t think-“

“Whatever,” she brushes his hand off.

He felt awful. He tries again, grabbing her arm this time and she comes to a stop.

“I’m sorry!” He says again. “Just forget I said anything.”

He’s surprised to see her teary eyes when she turns to him.

“What?” She snaps. “Never seen a girl cry before?”

“No I just—I didn’t mean to make you cry-“

“Oh you didn’t make my cry don’t worry,” she huffs. “I just hate how everyone in school always judges me based on their own fucking insecurities.”

Harry pauses, it was true. And he knew YN was only as cutting as she was so she could be taken seriously—so nobody would walk all over her just because she was a girl. He shouldn’t have made that comment, he knew that. He knew better but apparently he still had things to learn.

“I shouldn’t have judged you like that,” Harry mumbles. “I knew better.”

Her mouth parts slightly, YN wasn’t expecting Harry to say a combination of words that actually sounded better than an apology. She forgives him, but she doesn’t let him know.

“Well…you can make it up to me.” YN threads her arm through Harry’s. At first he doesn’t quite know what to do—despite their budding friendship YN rarely showed any affection or even friendliness in public. This was different.

“How? That sounds a bit sinister.”

“You’re going to get drunk with me. I’ve never seen you drunk before, and I want to be able to have embarrassing pictures of you to use next time you make me upset.”

“No way!” Harry unthreads his hand, regretting the decision a little.

“So you’re just gonna go to a party and watch everyone else drink? Your mum would be disappointed!”

“Trust me my mum doesn’t want me to get drunk,” Harry corrects her. “And I don’t drink for a reason. It really doesn’t take much to get tipsy.”

“Really?” YN eyes him. “But you’re tall.”

Harry shrugs, suddenly his heart thuds in his chest as he catches sight of the smoke of the bonfire. This was real—he was actually going to a class party with YN as his company. He had no friends there. This wasn’t his scene. What was he thinking?

“Have we got to do-“

“We’re going,” YN takes his hand and drags it the rest of the way. “We’re going to uni next year and you’re not going to be a party virgin.”

“I’ve been to parties!”

“What? D&D parties?” YN snorts. “You’re going to an outdoor party with drinks and getting drunk. I want you to let loose. Show everyone Harry the nerd is kind of funny?”

“Kind of?” Harry tugs her hand back. “You snorted at my jokes a couple weeks ago.”

YN looks back at him and Harry’s breath is momentarily caught in his throat. The light of the bonfire reflects in her eyes that crinkle at the corners as she looks at him. She has an amused smile fixed on her face. She’s relaxed completely, unguarded.

He wanted more of that, he realizes.

“Oi it’s about time!�� Someone notices YN and waves her down. Harry’s forced to follow. “Brought a date did you?”

“Not my date,” YN rolls her eyes.

The group, amongst whom most had been in a lot of his classes, simply stare at him expecting a name or something. Blimey, he realizes nobody recognized him. YN did a good job with her makeover.

“Good,” one particular bloke—tall with a shaggy overgrown mop of hair peels away from the group and slides his arm around YN. She distances herself in one languid move and continues on.

“Are you lot alright?” YN asks. “It’s Harry?”

“Hey Harry,” a few of them say with a removed friendliness. They still couldn’t place him. Harry would have been offended if this wasn’t the last summer he would see them all.

“Okay?” YN turns to Harry with her eyebrow raised and a joke in her eyes like they were on the ins of something together. It warms Harry’s chest with a gentle ease.

“Harry,” shaggy-hair says. “How d’you two know each other?”

“I’m gonna show Har to the drinks,” YN continues ignoring the guy. Harry’s dying to know who that is. “Anyone seen Raina?”

“She was over there a little while ago,” someone motions towards the fire.

This satisfies YN enough. She turns, “Drinks

“Yeah,” Harry feels lighter being here knowing nobody really recognized him. Like he could be anyone. Maybe he was getting a taste of what being at uni would feel like. He liked it.

He asks YN who that guy was when they get enough distance.

“Oh him? We went out a few times, hooked up at a couple parties. He seems to think that means I want him around at any given moment but he’s a bit clingy.”

A bit was an understatement but Harry stays quiet.

“He looks old.”

She laughs, “Yeah maybe cause he’s 21?”

“What’s he doing with a bunch of teens?” Harry asks, puzzled.

“Oh Har,” YN pats his shoulder and laughs. “Let’s get you a drink.”

“Just one drink,” Harry insists.

But after downing the disgustingly hoppy beer YN hands him Harry starts to feel even better being here. Nobody recognizes him, he has YN keeping him company (after she goes to Raina for a bit and comes back grumbling about her new boyfriend), and the energy at the party starts to really take off as someone turns on a playlist and people really start to mingle.

“So you excited about uni?” YN asks. They’re both sitting on a large rock. Yn has her knees tucked into her and her cheek rests on top. She seemed down after coming back from Raina.

“Yeah!” Harry says. “Finally get some bloody freedom, away from this place.”

“This place?” She slides her cheek across her knees to look at him. She looks beautiful, Harry thinks, before sliding his eyes away. It was still hard for him to maintain eye contact with her despite all the evenings they spent together.

“School. These people.”

“Hey they didn’t even recognize you today,” she chuckles. “I did a good job.”

She reached out and brushes one of his curls. Harry inadvertently leans in closer to her.

“I look the exact same,” Harry scoffs.

“No without those big ass glasses you actually look different.”

“Call me Clark Kent then.”

“Clark Kent.”

Harry looks at YN with an are-you-serious expression and she laughs.

“I didn’t actually mean to call me Clark-“

“I know,” she says softly. “I’m trying to annoy you.”

“That’s not hard to do.”

“Hey!” She punches him lightly. “That’s mean. You’re mean when you’re drinking.”

“No I’m not,” was he? He was just being himself here.

“No…you’re not,” she agrees. “But you’re honest. Anyway, you’re living on campus right? That’s lucky.”

“Why don’t you?” Harry asks.

“I can’t,” YN turns her face away again. “I’ve got to stay at home. Things are…complicated. So I’ve just got to commute.”

“Do you think we’ll hang out at uni?” Harry asks and then flushes as he realizes he said it out loud.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?”

Harry shrugs. “We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“Look at us now,” she leans into him, nudging his shoulder, and the warmth of her pressed into him is a balm to his melancholy. “We’re not gonna have the same labels in uni. Nobody knows us. We just get to be ourselves.”

“I hope so.” Harry says. “Should I get another drink?”

“Really?” YN sits up. “You want another?”

“Yeah!” Harry suddenly feels energized. “Why fucking not?!”

“Alright!” She hops off and he follows. “You also swear a lot more when you drink. It’s funny.”

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes immediately.

“Don’t be, I like it.” She says and Harry’s heart skips a beat. He floats the rest of the way to the drinks.

He downs half of another beer before he’s recruited to do a keg stand. He’s pretty sure it’s YN’s pretty-boy that jostles him into that crowd. He’d never done one before and YN tries to pull him away but tipsy and brave he gets instructions and allows two strangers to hold him up while he drinks what feels like the equivalent to the Thames.

The boys standing around cheer him on when he stands back up with the longest time out of everyone tonight. If he was anything, Harry was a winner. And he feels powerful: he’s actually seen and celebrated tonight for doing something as stupid as a keg stand. Why didn’t he do this more in school?

“Make way for the goat!” One of the guys shouts.

“You’re all wankers!” Harry shouts. “I just owned you all!”

“Harry,” YN’s hand clasps his and while he shouts celebrations back to the guys he’s dragged away by her.

“It’s Harry right?” A girl he’s never seen before stops YN on her trek to get him far away from the drinks. “I’m Marva.”

“Marva!” Harry pulls his hand from YN and shakes Marva’s. “Nice to meet you…Mara.”

“Yeah nice to meet you,” she smiles. “You’ve got really nice eyes.”

“Thank you Mara. You have really nice teeth.”

“Fucking hell,” YN mutters then louder she says, “Sorry Marva we gotta go. Maybe you can catch up with-“

“Okay I just wanna say that was sick what you did,” Marva points to the keg.

“I’m king of the keg,” Harry says and YN mumbles something to the side but Harry’s too swept in winning, in getting attention from this beautiful girl, to hear.

“Yeah, uhm could I get your number?”

“Uh,” Harry tries to remember his number but it doesn’t come to him. He should remember his number. Why isn’t it coming to him?

“Or I could give you mine?” She says after Harry stands there silently for an uncomfortable minute.

“Yeah,” Harry hands his phone over but his mind keep trying to push through the slosh to remember his number. Soon enough he’s walking away with YN again. “Why is my number? It’s a set of numbers…”

He’s mumbling, an anxious feeling creeping up his chest as he tries to remember.

“Hey,” YN finally allows him to stop. She senses the panic rising in him and lays a hand on his chest. The buzzing stops immediately. “Harry look at me.”

Harry looks down at YN, she was one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. He wishes he could hold her face for eternity. He would live in peace.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. “You’re not blinking are you alright?”

“Probably not!” Harry laughs. “I just got hit on by a gorgeous girl did you see that?”

“Yes,” she rolls her eyes. “She was impressed by your ability to drink upside down. What a catch.”

“I am a catch,” Harry motions to the water behind them. “I’m a fish in the sea.”

“Oh my god,” YN laughs. “You’re ridiculous is what you are. That’s a river I thought you were smart.”

“I’m cool now.”

She brushes his hair again, “give a nerd a new hair style,” she drags her hands over his eyes, “put him in contacts,” she continues tracing her hand down his face to his chest, “put him in new clothes-“

She cuts herself off when Harry grasps her hand against his chest. He was sure she could feel his heart racing inside.

They stare silently at each other, the darkness cushioning them on either side until it feels like they’re the only two beings in the night. Like they’re drifting in the dark, tethered only by hands and gazes.

Harry tilts forward, YN doesn’t move back. So he closes the distance and presses his lips to hers, they’re as soft as he imagined. They’re the best lips he’s ever kissed.

Maybe he imagines it, maybe it was a drunk fantasy, but for a brief second she presses her lips against his; she closes her eyes and kisses him back.

The next second, she’s shoving him backwards and scrambling away. Her look of shock and betrayal cuts right through the fog in his brain.

“What the fuck?” She shouts. “Did-did you just fucking kiss me?”

“I’m sorry!” Harry feels his heart in his throat, why did he think she would ever want to kiss him? She was YN, he was just Harry. “I don’t-I’m not I-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She wipes the back of her hand against her mouth, adding assault to injury. “Why would you do that?!”

“YN,” Harry stumbles forward but she peddles backward. It’s another punch added, almost deflating him entirely. “I didn’t mean—I’m drunk I’m sorry-“

“Being drunk isn’t a fucking excuse,” she spits.

“I know! I’m sorry!”

“Goddamnit! You’re just like every other asshole of a guy. I thought we were friends! But of course you get drunk and try to kiss me-“

“It’s not like that!” Harry tries to tell her. He was just braver drunk but he’s been in love with her a long time. After hanging out this whole summer he just thought they had a moment there. He read the signs wrong; apparently a bookworm could read wrong.

Maybe he would never be good at this whole people thing.

“Then what?” YN seethes. “Then why the hell—why did you try to kiss me Harry? You don’t even like me why would you kiss me?!”

“I…” he doesn’t know what to say. Of course he liked her. He more than liked her; YN changed his life and he’s starting to like who she makes him be.

But nothing will make this situation better. And the worst part is he feels her slip away, right through his fingers. It’s like one of those jelly toys from when he was a kid; the harder he gripped the easier it slipped away.

“Get fucked Harry,” YN swears. She turns and leaves. She leaves him and he doesn’t think she’ll ever come back.

When the rush of adrenaline subsides Harry empties the contents of his stomach. With his head swimming he picks himself up and finds his way out. With a final glance at the party he’d just felt king of, he spots YN tucked into the body of shaggy-hair and his stomach turns. Why did he ever think she’d want him? Girls like her didn’t end up with guys like him. Why did he ever come to this stupid party in the first place and get drunk? This wasn’t him. Uni or not, maybe he was never meant to change all that much.

***

Harry looks around his half of the dorm he’s just finished putting together with a proud smile. At last the day had come, he had successfully escaped the shackles of school and all its taunting and made it to the uni of his choice. Despite only being a 1.5 hour train ride from home Harry chose to get the full uni experience and live on campus. His life was going to change, he could feel it.

That is, until his roommate walked in.

Messy hair, backwards baseball cap, crewneck and baggy jeans and massive headphones on. Harry already types him in his mind—how the hell did the dorm board pair the two of them together?

“Aw marra,” he holds his hand out sideways and Harry clasps his hand and lets his body gets tugged into his roommate’s bony shoulder. “Harry right?”

“Yeah,” Harry tries to find his balance again. “Roderick?”

“Just Rod yeah,” Roderick throw his duffel bag onto the bed and points behind him. “Give me a hand with the other bags?”

Harry wasn’t much for lifting heavy things but he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with someone he’d be living with the next year. So he goes.

“When did you get here?” He asks.

“Last night,” Harry wanted to get in before everyone else and avoid the crowds of people. He knew it would be a good way to meet others and make friends—his sister told him the first week was when you made most of them, but he did what we wanted.

Rod barely hears him as they get the last of his bags. “It was packed to shite trying to get in here. Where’d you come in from?”

“London,” Harry answers.

“And you’re staying here? On campus?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to do the commute everyday. Felt like a waste of time.”

“Yeah that’d be crazy.” His roommate agrees.

“What about you?” Harry remembers to ask.

“Sunlun,” he replies. Harry hadn’t heard of it, and reminds himself to look it up later. “I was right ready to lose it driving here. My mam drove me-“

“Oh is she around?” Harry asks.

“No,” Rod laughs. “I’m not starting school trailing after her. But I promised her I’d have a meal with her after moving my—hey you should come!”

Harry has a hard time keeping up with Roderick, despite having longer legs than him he walks as fast as he talks and he talks with an accent that takes a minute to filter through for understanding.

“I couldn’t-“

“No you’re coming,” Rod claps Harry on the back. “She would love seeing that my roommate’s someone like you.”

Someone like you, what did that mean? But on some level Harry knows just by comparing Roderick’s outfit and Harry’s slacks and spotless crewneck.

Harry has no choice but he gets a free meal out of it. Roderick’s mum is sweet and by the end of the meal he understands his roommate a lot better, knows everything about where he’s from—Sunderland, and is invited to “drop by for tea” anytime he’s up north.

Roderick invites Harry to a get-together for first years happening somewhere off campus but Harry feels sensed out and tells him he was calling it a night. Rod looks disappointed but leaves without him. Harry almost feels disappointed in himself. He was supposed to have a different life being in uni, but he didn’t want to make old mistakes and try to be someone he wasn’t.

***

Freshers week is both invigorating and exhausting for Harry as he tries to navigate all of the personalities and social groups without falling back into his usual ways. He attends the talks and the tours, one in which he meets Mikey who was also planning on joining debate club. Harry goes to mixers and breaks so much ice he’s sure he could get a part time job as an ice sculptor.

Harry also attends the workshops and he meets a few more friends there, but mostly when he signs up for clubs he’s interested and goes to their mixers he finds people he clicks with very easily. He doesn’t spot Rod once or anyone else he would have known from school.

On Thursday Harry heads to Newsroom Society Club which was a fancy title for the uni’s reporting club. He has a few new friends he’s made, Florence from one of the workshops and Gabriel who lived in the same hall as Harry as well as Mikey. They were all interested in being part of reporting—the newspaper or the podcast.

Harry stumbles into a projector when he spots her.

“You alright?” Gabriel grabs Harry’s jacket to hold him steady. All eyes are on him as the slideshow on the wall tips off balance and he’s bright as a tomato.

“Yeah I didn’t see that there,” Harry lies.

“Kinda hard to miss,” YN pipes in from where she stands.

Looking at her reminds Harry of the summer. It felt like a dream looking back on it, how they became friends and then quickly drifted off after he stupidly misread her cues and tried to kiss her. Although it was one of the few times he had gotten drunk and he was out of his depth when it happened. But YN had avoided him after that. He knew they were going to the same school but he didn’t think he’d see her this early on.

Harry’s new friends eye YN, assuming she was being rude just because. But when Harry acknowledges her they settles down.

“YN. Hi.” Harry waves awkwardly.

“Harry,” she says coolly.

“You’re here for the paper?”

“The show actually,” YN nods. The girl she’s talking to touches her arm and motions she was heading elsewhere.

“Oh me too,” Florence pipes in. “I’m Florence by the way.”

“I’m Mikey,” his other friend says as if Flo opened a gateway to YN. “I’m also interested in it. Not sure if I’m staying though.”

YN eyes his friends and returns her gaze to Harry. “Neat. I’m YN.”

“You two know each other?” Mikey asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says as YN says “Unfortunately.”

There’s an awkward beat as the group tries to figure out if she’s joking it not. When her lips curl into a small smile and they take the cue to laugh. It amazed Harry how well YN could command a group. Even now.

“Are you going for any other clubs?” Flo continues asking YN.

“I was thinking tennis, I used to play.” YN says and Harry’s surprised to hear that. He’s reminded he didn’t know her much—he never really got to know her that well despite all the time together. She was a closed book on a lot of things. “How about you?”

“Yeah I’m thinking of joining the volunteer committee!”

“Yeah what do they do?” YN asks. “Obviously volunteering but like-“

She doesn’t need to correct herself any further as Flo launched into a onboarding speech about volunteer committee. And Harry’s mesmerized by YN as she listens to Flo attentively, it’s different to the way she interacted with him or Mikey or a lot of people. When she feels him staring her eyes flick up to meet his and then back to Flo. She does it again and he takes the hint, looking away.

He flushes remembering the summer, how things started so well and ended so terribly.

YN ends up sticking to their group as the club organizers gather everyone to do a small introduction of the Newsroom Society. When it ends and they’re left to mingle Harry’s friends ask him what they were going to do for lunch.

“I’m easy, we can go anywhere.”

“I wanted to catch the fencing match they have going on at 2,” Gabriel says. “I might stay behind-“

“Let’s just do the caf.” Harry decides.

Florence turns back to YN who’s with her friend again. “Hey we were gonna grab lunch in the caf would you want to join? Both of you?”

YN meets Harry’s eye and an awkward energy sizzles between the two. It happens so quickly.

“Soph?” YN asks her friend.

“Eh,” she shrugs. “Okay. I’m Sophie by the way…”

Introductions are made all over again and YN and Harry are left herding the crowd from behind at the end if it.

“Hi,” Harry says as they fall into step.

She eyes him first before responding, “Hi.”

Silence as the group ahead chatters away.

“How’ve you been?” Harry attempts small talk.

“Fine.” She replies without returning the question. Harry gets the hint and grits his teeth. It was frustrating knowing she had glued herself shut and it would require a tool he didn’t have to get her to open again.

At lunch she continues to gloss over anything he says and talking with everyone enthusiastically but him, making him feel like he was in secondary all over again.

“We should do this again,” Florence suggests. “You guys are fun.”

Harry thinks Flo just liked having girls to talk to since most of the friends she’d made so far had been Harry and his.

“Yeah,” Soph agrees. “Maybe we’ll all make the Newsroom Society. Flo I think I’ll come to the volunteer thing with you next week just text me when it is.”

Somehow Harry’s friends intermingle with YN’s and by the time classes actually starts he’s seen YN socially more often than he had in secondary.

“YN,” Harry catches her walking out of their international business course. He’d found they had two classes together despite deciding different majors.

She glances up at her name and upon seeing Harry continues walking.

“Hey YN,” he walks ahead enough to stop her.

“Hey. What?” She asks.

“Can we talk?”

She raises a brow.

“C’mon,” Harry turns and hopes she’ll follow. She does. He leads them to a seating area for students in the building’s courtyard. “We should talk.”

“About?”

“Us.” Harry fidgets. “Look, I know what I did last summer wasn’t right. And being drunk wasn’t an excuse. I…I misread the signs and I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to betray your trust like that and. Yeah. I’m really sorry. If we’re gonna hang out and be mates, it’s weird when you’re always mad at me.”

She stares at him for an uncomfortable period and Harry can’t hold eye contact the whole time.

“How many times did you practice saying that?” She asks with a straight expression.

He laughs, “A few times.”

Like the sun after a thunderstorm, her smile slowly brightens the rest of her face as it stretches over her face.

“For the record, don’t ever try to kiss me ever again.” YN lists on her fingers. “Secondly, there will never be signs between us as anything more than friends so just…don’t look for them. We’re just friends.”

“Got it,” Harry mock salutes.

“I’m not done,” she holds up three fingers. “Thirdly, it’s nice seeing you be less…secondary Harry.”

“What?”

“Y’know like, bookish awkward nerdy Harry. You’ve actually got friends, I saw you at a couple parties. It’s nice!”

“Oh,” Harry didn’t think YN thought about him at all. He thought he went back to being a nobody but she was still noticing things about him. Things he thought only he had picked up on.

She was right—he felt more himself the longer he was at uni. It wasn’t easy but he found it easier to make decisions about people and friends, emotions and conversations when the pressure to fit into a box fell away.

Of course, Harry still struggled connecting with his roommate. After declining his initial invite to a party Rod mostly kept to himself and sometimes Harry was asked to give him privacy a few hours some evenings. Harry usually obliged, wanting to still be friends with Roderick.

One of the parties YN saw him at must have been one Rod invited him to. It was the first time he’d really spoken to him since that first day. And Harry had gone to the party just to reduce the friction with Rod. It went over well, he’d even chatted up a girl.

“Anyway,” YN hitches her bag onto her shoulder. “My next class is much later in the day so I’m gonna find a place to crash until then.”

“When is it?”

“Like, 5?”

“Shit, you commuted for our 10 and have to stay that late?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “It was the only way I could fit both classes into this semester.”

“D’you…” Harry reconsiders the rules she’d given him. He didn’t think this was breaking any. “D’you want to come go my dorm? You could…nap or something.”

Her face lights up, “Wait really?”

“Yeah?”

“Um yeah? If that’s alright if-“

“Yeah,” Harry’s pleased to be able to offer something that’s made her light up. “Yeah c’mon. My roommate should be out. My next class is at half past 1 though.”

“That’s enough time for a nap,” YN says as she falls into step beside him.

“You don’t have to leave.” Harry tells her. “You can stay while I’m in class.”

That’s how Harry finds himself walking out of his dorm quietly so as not to wake a sleeping YN. She had knocked out soon after getting into his sheets, and he’s thankful he’d just washed them over the weekend after accidentally spilling tea all over them.

He felt bad that she had to commute for nearly 2 hours and stay the whole day for an evening class. He gives her an open invitation to use his dorm as a hotel when she wanted. She’d corrected him it was more like a motel, and then said his bedsheets smelled surprisingly nice for a motel.

Harry has a smile for most of his walk to class.

Near the end of class his phone vibrates with a text.

Roderick: there’s a girl sleeping on your bed?

Shit, Harry didn’t think he’d be back before him.

Harry: that’s just YN, sorry hope you don’t mind.

R: nah I just wasn’t expecting it lol

H: she’s just crashing

R: she single?

H: what happened to the girl you were hooking up with last week?

Despite not talking a lot, Harry still had the lowdown on who Rod was hooking up with because of the revolving door of girls.

R: mate. That was last week.

Harry rushes back from class but to his surprise he finds YN sitting in bed braiding her hair while Rod leans against his desk explaining something about Sunderland.

“Oh hey Harry,” YN says when he walks in.

“Hey,” Harry tries not to sound too out of breath. “Uh I see you two’ve met.”

“Yeah. YN’s pretty cool, where’ve you been hiding her?”

“I’m not-“

“Ew,” YN cuts him off. “Do they not teach manners in Sunderland?”

Harry watches, for the first time since he’s met him, Roderick stammer and look uncertain.

“Anyway,” YN gets off the bed and adjusts her clothes. “Thanks for letting me crash.”

Harry watched Rod get a hold of himself and YN put her bag back together again. That was the privilege of being so beautiful, she could shame guys like Rod into behaving themselves.

“See you Friday?” YN tells Harry. They had a Newsroom Society meeting. Harry ended up making the cut for the paper along with Gabriel and Flo. YN had made it for the podcast and this week was when they first got assignments.

“Yeah,” Harry says. YN walks past him, squeezing him arm and walking out.

“Marra,” Rod blow the air out of his cheeks. “She’s….something. You should invite her to the party Friday if she’s on campus.”

“Yeah I’ll ask,” Harry says. Weird how the tables have turned, he thinks. Here he would be, inviting YN to a party.

***

Harry doesn’t get a chance to catch up with YN until after Newsroom. He asks her if she was doing anything afterwards.

“Nope,” she rubs her temple. “I have a Saturday shift to work so I was just gonna head home after this.”

“Oh.” Harry says. He forgot she worked. “I was gonna invite you to this party-“

“You?” She points to him and laugh. “You’re inviting me?”

“Erm yeah?”

“I love it.” She says seriously.

“Yeah,” a smile tugs at his lips. “I know. But if you’re busy-“

“Oh no. I’ll show up to a party you’re inviting me to, where is it?”

Harry gives her the place. She tells him one of her friends was trying to get here there too.

“Whatever, I’ll just suffer the consequences tomorrow. Although I’m not dressed for a party at all.”

Harry eyes her hoodie and jeans. Even he knew YN dressed up more for parties.

“Too bad you’re not a girl,” she sighs. “I could just borrow something from your closet.”

“How about the friend you mentioned?”

“She lives a town over so she commutes. Wait, let me see your closet maybe we can make something work.”

“Don’t you make fun of my closet?”

“No I make fun when you wear it. It might look hot on me.”

The idea of YN looking hot in his clothes forces the blood to rush to his head and he has to take a few deep breaths before trailing behind.

Rod’s nowhere in sight when they get to his dorm. Harry unloads his backpack and splays out on his bed, tired from the day and really not wanting to go to any parties.

“This could be cute,” YN unhooks a plain white tee from his closet and throws it on his bed. She picks up a sweater and a short-sleeved button up. She holds them up to her and instructs him to turn around while she tries it on.

Harry’s so tired that turned around he ends up falling asleep, half his body still dangling off the bed.

While uni was really fun for him, and getting to explore different sides of him and learn a whole lot, it was a constant rotation of something. Sometimes he wondered if he should drop a class or a club just to give himself some breathing room. Or sleeping room. But Harry wasn’t a quitter. Instead he was tired a lot of the time and felt like he was constantly catching up.

“Hello,” Harry’s woken by a vigorous shaking. YN peers down at him, lashes long and coated in mascara probably. Her lips are painted a deep pink and she’s put her hair down.

“How did you…” Harry blinks at her.

“I had some makeup in my bag, I just touched it up while you slept.” She sits down beside him. “Now what are you wearing and when are we leaving?”

“I’m just wearing this,” Harry motions to his jeans and hoodie. She raises a brow. “Wait what are you-“

He notices what she’s wearing. His white tee that hangs loose on him has been tightened into a single point on YN’s ribcage, baring her midriff. She’s kept her jeans on but somehow despite only swapping out one item of clothing she looks magnetic.

“Wow.”

“I know right,” she gets up to allow him the full picture even though he didn’t want to ogle any more. “I just went with one of your tees, used a hair tie to style it. I’ll wear my bomber on top. And you can change your hoodie at least. You’ll look like a slob in that, it’s not going to impress any girls.”

“What if I don’t want to impress any girls?”

“Don’t forget I caught you flirting with Sophie last week.” She warns him.

It was embarrassing, Soph had been talking through one of the articles they were assigned to think about for Newsroom and it had turned flirty when Sophie started teasing him. Harry had recently felt more confident in the girl department and he’d flirted back until YN had dropped into the conversation pretending to gag at Harry.

Harry wondered if Sophie would be at the party. He should have texted her to ask.

“Let’s not talk about that.”

“I would actually love to talk about that,” she grins. “But I do want to head out. So wear this and let’s go.”

She throws Harry a crewneck and taps her foot. When she doesn’t make a move to look away he changes in front of her and doesn’t meet her eye.

“You’ve got a tattoo?” YN sounds surprised as he gets his arms into the crewneck.

“Huh?” Harry realizes she’s staring at his ribcage. He forgot he had a tattoo, not often looking at himself naked in the mirror. “Oh yeah. Caleb and I got it for our 18th before we went to uni. He’s moved to Canada for uni so-“

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you.” YN says in a quieter voice than usual. Harry’s hands are still trapped in his sweater, halfway to his head, when she steps closer and traces her hand over the numbers. Her hands are cold and unexpected and he gasps.

“Sorry,” she looks up at him but he can barely look at her. She was touching his bare torso. “Was that cold?”

“Yeah,” Harry clears his throat.

“Any others?” She asks.

He shakes his head, his voice sticking in his throat. He couldn’t move, he was too busy concentrating on breathing.

He slowly pulls his jumper on the rest of the way and only when they head out does he feel safe enough to talk. He tells YN how he planned on getting more tattoos eventually, once he figured out what he liked. It was a bit scary being so permanent but he liked the way he could express himself or hold memories on his skin.

They talk about it until they reach the dorms the party was at.

“Catch you inside,” YN says as they enter. “Don’t get too drunk.”

“Never again” Harry shouts after her. She waves without turning around.

He thought they would hang out here together but he finds himself wandering the dorms until he spots Mikey. He becomes absorbed in Mikey’s group of friends and forgets he’d been here with YN.

At some point Harry finds himself the centre of attention of a girl from his intro to biology class. Mary. She’s cute with a shoulder-length brown hair and animated eyes. When she smiles at Harry he feels his heart flutter.

“What about weirdest?” She asks Harry. They were talking about their shared interest in cults.

“Raelian,” Harry responds. “Have you heard of them?”

“Ooh no tell me about it,” she shuffles closer to him in the stranger’s room they were talking in. Harry had been nursing his drink for the last couple hours and he’d nearly made it look like it was done.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he ignores it. When it goes off again Mary raises her brow.

“D’you need to get that?”

“I dunno,” Harry pulls out YN flipping him off on screen. He still hadn’t changed her photo.

“Harry!” He hears his name shouted from the hall just as the call ends.

“Is somebody actually calling you?” Mary furrows her brows.

“I don’t-“ his name is shouted again but louder.

The two of them shuffle to the hall and YN’s unmistakable face comes into view.

“Harry!” She says in a loud and happy tone. “I found you!”

“YN,” Harry glances at Mary nervously. She seems concerned. “What happened?”

“What didn’t happen amirite?” She elbows him. “Anyway. I don’t feel well and I am going home.”

“Drunk?” Harry scratches his head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You’ve got like nearly 2 hours on the train.”

“And?” She shrugs. “I’ll sleep it off.”

“You can’t do that.” Harry insists.

“Well good thing you’re,” she points her finger into his chest and tilts forward. “Not the boss of me. Oh hey. We haven’t met!”

She spots Mary beside him and she bows to her.

“Heh. Harry. And Mary.” YN points between them.

“D’you need help?” Mary asks. “With her?”

“I don’t need help!” YN shouts. “I’m cool. I’m fun. I’m totally alright.”

“You’re really not,” Harry grits his teeth. He was finally hitting it off with Mary and of course YN had to go and get drunk and ruin it.

Technically he did invite her to the party though. Did that make her his responsibility? Harry wasn’t too sure about that sort of thing.

“I did an amazing job at Ring of Fire,” YN slurs. “Phe-nnnnn-omm-enal.”

“I am going to get her out of here,” Harry tells Mary. He twists his mouth to the side and hopes he looks as sorry as he felt. “I invited her so…”

“That’s alright! That’s what friends are for right?” She smiles. “I’ll see you in class?”

“Yeah!” Harry nods. “I’ll see you.”

With a final exchange of smiles Harry grabs YN by the shoulders and gets her out of the building. The whole time she talks about random things from the night that Harry couldn’t care less about.

“YN why did you get so bloody drunk,” Harry says outside his building. It was a co-ed so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for both of them to go in but Harry wanted to sneak her into his room.

“I didn’t mean to,” she says. “I wasn’t even gonna stay this long.”

Her voice pitches down and she becomes droopier in Harry’s arms. His arms hurt; he should use the gym on campus more often.

“What happened?” Harry continues to entertain her.

She doesn’t say until they reach his room. He prays Rod would still be at the party and breathes a sigh of relief when the other side of the room is empty.

“Sit here,” Harry places YN on his bed and finds a water bottle for her. “Drink.”

“I can’t, I need to piss.”

Harry groans. “Why didn’t you say earlier?”

“I forgot,” she whispers. “Sorry.”

He points the toilets out to her and leaves the door open a crack so she can find her way back. Her mascara’s running when she gets back.

“Were you crying?” He asks.

“No! I tried to take this stupid stuff off.” She sighs. “It really is waterproof.”

Harry shakes his head, YN was a right state and he didn’t really know what to do. She’s always the one in control and in command. He remembers his sister using makeup wipes but he didn’t have any. He improvises with kleenex but she complains that it hurt. He tries dousing one in water but the makeup barely budges.

“Just let me sleep in it,” she complains.

“And get it all over my bedsheets?” Harry shakes his head. “No way.”

“Oils,” YN leans back in his bed anyway. “If you’ve got oil. Or balms. Whatever.”

Harry rummages through the room and manages to find a hair product his sister bought him with oils. He puts some on the kleenex but YN is snoring in bed by the time he gets up to her.

“C’mon,” he taps her face. “Did you seriously fall asleep already?”

“No,” YN cracks an eye open. “I’m up.”

“Good. Here use this.” He offers her the wipe but she whines until Harry gives in and helps her wipe it off. It makes his heart race and he tries not to breathe her in too much. Despite smelling like a brewery, underneath that she smells like YN. The one he knew last summer.

“You can’t sleep in my bed with this on.” Harry complains. Who knows where those jeans have been.

“M’not sleeping in my underwear,” she mumbles. “You wish.”

“Trust me I don’t,” Harry didn’t even sleep in his underwear. “I’ll give you some sweatpants. Please change into them.”

“You’re the worst,” she whines. But does as he says, moving like a sloth. She peels off his tshirt and slides into his sheets and Harry avoids looking at her in her sports bra. At least it wasn’t a lacy one.

She was just a friend. They had both made an agreement. Friends slept in the same bed. He’d probably shared a bed with Caleb before—this was fine.

Harry creeps under his sheets and tries to keep space between YN and himself but she tucks herself into his side and is out like a light.

***

Harry wakes to a shock of cold on his thigh. His eyes rip open and he yanks himself away from the freeze.

It takes him a moment to register YN giggling beside him.

“What the fuck!” Harry groans and turns on his back. At some point he’d turned towards YN and they’d probably slept facing each other. It was better than any other alternative he figured.

“Sorry,” she says without sounding a single bit sorry. “I just had to do it.”

“I literally let you crash in the same tiny bed as me and you repay me like that!?” Harry says to the ceiling. Sleep still tries to pull him back in but he fights it—with YN up he probably wasn’t going to get any more sleep.

“Okay no I shouldn’t have done that sorry.” She apologizes. “You wouldn’t happen to have like paracetamol or-“

“It’s in the desk drawer—what are you—ow!”

YN had started climbing over him as he answered and nearly kneed him between the legs.

“Sorry!” She whispers. Harry glances at his roommate to find him sleeping in his bed. He hoped Rod was too drunk to notice YN in his bed when he came in.

Harry decides to just get up then and eventually he walks YN to the bus terminal both of them full on caf coffee and breakfast. She was going to cut it close for her shift but she didn’t seem to care.

“Thanks for taking care of me last night,” YN says as the bus comes into view. She doesn’t look him in the eye as she says it and he can barely look at her saying it. “You didn’t have to and you did.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry says, equally uncomfortable with YN’s vulnerability.

“I saw an ex,” she meets his gaze. “I didn’t think I’d run into him after all this time. That’s kinda why I drank more than I intended. I wasn’t supposed to inconvenience you—hey, weren’t you talking to some girl last-“

“Yeah,” Harry hoped Mary wasn’t too weirded out by YN. “It’s fine. I’ve got class with her.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” she slaps her hand to her forehead. “I hope I didn’t make things weird. I owe you.”

“It’s alright,” Harry finally meets her eye and realizes it was alright. He could be friends with YN and maybe this could work. “It’s what friends do.”

“Really?” She asks.

He nods. “I’ll help you home from any party.”

“Awww,” she wrings her arms around Harry’s neck and he takes a step back to steady her. He forces his brain to think only friendly thoughts, and not how steady his hand feels on her lower back or how nice her hair smells, as he returns the hug. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

She leans back and pats his face. “You’re growing up so much. Look at how much nicer you are.”

Harry blushes and she laughs at him as she runs to catch the bus. He watches the bus wink out of sight and sighs.

It was in part thanks to YN he’s grown so much, she forced him out of his shell and pointed out all the ways his intellect can get in the way of being a nice person. And being out of school helped the rest of the way; Harry’s contemplative on his walk back home.

***

“What about orange juice and biscuits?” Mary asks.

Harry thinks about it before shaking his head, “No. it doesn’t make sense.”

The two were having dinner together in the caf. Ever since the party last month they’ve spent more time together in between classes. They weren’t dating but there was a heavy chemistry between them. Harry didn’t realize, Mary was just waiting for them to make the first move.

“Crisps and jam?”

“Why?” Harry scrunches his face imagining the weird food combination. Mary was reading off an article she was reading when he sat down at her table.

She shrugs, “Apparently it’s moreish.”

Harry liked Mary a lot but he sometimes felt he paled next to her, like if he asked her out and she really got to know him she might not like him as much. So he kept her at arm’s length.

“What’s more-ish is the bile coming up my throat thinking of that.”

“A lot of these are pregnancy cravings!” Mary says. “What do we know?”

“Who’s pregnant?” Flo asks as she sits beside Mary. Mikey joins the table too.

“Nobody’s pregnant,” Harry corrects. “We’re just reading an article.”

“No actually, the computer science prof that everyone hates is pregnant. She’s not teaching next semester anyone who’s interested should take it then.” Flo informs the group.

“Can you imagine?” Mary turns to her. “Being so hated that the one semester you’re not teaching there’s a massive waiting list on your course?”

The group begins to discuss this particular prof and Harry fades into a listener. Mary catches his eye a few times and sends a bright smile his way and Harry keeps it tucked within.

Now a couple months into uni Harry was starting to find a rhythm that he was able to ride. He had more friends than he’s ever had, regularly went to parties and hung out with them, Rod and him were good friends by some way of YN, and uni challenged Harry’s brain in a good way.

Him and YN didn’t hang out very much but he often saw her at parties, in the Newsroom, or if he came back to his dorm while she napped. If had become part of their regular schedule for her to use his dorm to nap and Harry was more than happy to let her. Rod was too—even happier than Harry sometimes.

“Are you going to the Halloween thing Harry?” Mikey asks.

“Huh?” Harry had zoned out. “Uh I think so. Yeah. Why not?”

“Awesome,” Flo says. “We should go together.”

“We’re not doing matching costumed Flo,” Harry says for the tenth time this month.

“Why not?!” She cries. The table becomes noisy again as they argue the same thing they’ve argued since October started. Harry feels at home.

***

Just finished my mid-term, Harry texts Mary. We should celebrate with drinks later.

Yeah after I finish mine later today, would love to. Mary texts back.

Harry smiles at his phone and switches chat to YN.

Are you still at mine?

She doesn’t reply and Harry figures she’s either sleeping or maybe writing a mid-term. He knew she had one later this afternoon—the same class as Mary.

Uni turned out to be a small world, he’d found a few people he already knew in these halls and somehow new friends and old acquaintances had all mingled together.

The good thing was now that he regularly wore contacts and started putting in some effort in how he looked, a lot of his old classmates either walked past him with no recognition or spoke to him like they weren’t the reason he had one friend in secondary.

It still took some adjusting to: here he was, bottom-rung at his old school, asking someone at the top rung if she was still sleeping in his bed. It was mad.

Harry turns the key of his door and freezes at what’s before him.

His roommate Roderick sits on his bed with his back to the wall and someone looking very much like—no it was YN because her jacket lay on his bed, straddling his lap. YN and his roommate were making out.

“What is this?” Harry asks when his senses return. “What’s going on?”

“Oh hey Har,” Rod looks past YN. He was so casual, Harry felt a little crazy at thinking this was a big deal.

“Oh,” YN turns and unhooks her legs from around Rod. “You’re done your exam. How was it?”

Were they insane it was he just a prude? Harry’s roommate was making out with his friend. That regularly crashed in his room. Has this been going on for a while?

“Good. Fine. YN can we talk?” Harry asks.

“Sure,” YN climbs off the bed and fixes her lipstick whilst passing the mirror. Harry nods to the hall and she steps out. “What’s up?”

“What…what’s going on there?”

“What? Rod?”

“Obviously!”

“Oh my god Har, it’s nothing serious we were just making out.”

“For how long?”

“I dunno? Why do you want to know?”

“No like how long have you two been hooking up?”

“We were just making out today why’ve you got your panties in a twist?”

“So this is the first time?”

“No…we made out at a party last week. Anyway I was just studying on your bed after getting a nap in and he walked in. It got flirty, one thing led to another-“

“I’m not comfortable with this.” Harry clenched his teeth. He didn’t know why but it felt wrong they were doing this in his room. After he’d opened it up for her to give her a break from the constant commuting. What if things go sour between them and Rod takes it out on him? What if she ruins the vibe of their dorm?

“Harry,” YN lays a hand on his shoulder with a serious face. “You know I’ve kissed boys before. Done even more than-“

“This isn’t a joke,” Harry brushes her hand off. “I don’t feel comfortable with you doing…that in the room.”

“So now you’re deciding who I can see-“

“No!” Harry shouts a bit too loud and someone on the other end of the hall looks up. “No. You know that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t care who you hook up with YN. Just not in my room with my roommate. Do whatever you want with him at parties but not in my room. I don’t care what you do. Just…not in my room.”

Harry shuts up once he realizes he’s repeating himself. He hopes she understands.

“Fine.” She does her classic move. She shuts down. “I’ll be a devout virgin in your room. Outside I’ll be the wild child I am.”

“YN don’t twist this,” Harry sighs. “Why do you do that?”

“I’ve got an exam in a couple hours.” She opens the door. “I should go.”

“Already?” Rod says as they walk in.

“Harry’s made a request about us,” YN shoots him a look and Harry wants to take that look and throw it back at her. He was going to break it to Rod differently knowing how tenuous the balance of their friendship was. But now she’s just dropped it like a bomb in the middle of their dorm.

“What?” Rod looks at Harry.

Harry flushes but he tries to look at Rod when he tells him, “I think it’s weird you two making out here. You can do that anywhere just not here. My roommate and my friend…it’s weird.”

Rod blinks, Harry thinks he’s zoned out until he shrugs. “Nee bother. I respect it Harry. I’ll catch you out there then YN.”

YN looks between the boys, her hands holding her bag are curled into fists and with one last angry look to Harry she exits the room.

“Doesn’t look like she’s too chuffed with you man.” Rod pipes in from behind.

She wasn’t chuffed with him half the time, Harry was now used to it.

***

The Halloween party is packed like sardines and Harry considers leaving. Mary had come down with a flu and she’d also been avoiding him the last week. Gabe said she’s probably tired of him not doing anything about their mutual crush, Flo thinks she needs space, and YN says she found someone new to fantasize about but Harry thinks the last one is mostly to get under his skin.

Ever since that day in his dorm YN’s gone back to being bristly with Harry. It doesn’t bother him most days but it does frustrate him on a few.

“Harry!” A familiar face waves him down. The party was in off-campus student res and it was decorated like somebody had gone batshit on Amazon. Just walking toward Sophie, Harry had gotten a faceful of smoke, fake cobwebs, and bubbles for some reason.

“Soph! How’s it going?” Harry hadn’t seen Sophie since she quit Newsroom a few weeks ago. With midterms and club deadlines clashing she decided she couldn’t do both and left the club.

“So much better,” her brightened eyes and large smile fixed on her face clued Harry in that she’d already started drinking. “But I miss the Newsroom crew. How is everyone?”

“We’re fine—you know you could still hang out with us? We’re around.”

“Ugh I know,” she sways towards him. “But I feel like I hardly have time to be social. Social. Does that sound weird—so-shul?”

“I think you’re a bit drunk Soph,” Harry points to her cup.

“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “What about you? You don’t even have a drink!”

“I…I was gonna go get one.” Harry lies. He was actually gonna go home.

“Okay! Someone had shots going.”

She grabs his hand and it tingles. She races around until she finds the half-empty vodka and demands Harry do shots with her. He nearly chokes on it and coughs uncontrollably which sets Soph off.

“Are you alright?” She slaps his back harder than she looks like she could. “You need a chaser hold up!”

She disappears behind the table and pulls out lime wedges from god knows where. She instructs Harry how to do it even though he didn’t want any more but she doesn’t relent.

The second time is a lot smoother but Harry realizes he really did not like vodka either.

“Soph! Har! You two know each other?!” Roderick suddenly walks in on them, crashing the two with an arm around both. “Small worlds!”

“Hey Rod,” Soph’s glow dims a little.

“Now what kind of hello is that? And what are you supposed to be?”

“Scream queen right?” Harry asks as Soph says “Scream Queen duh?”

Rod frowns and takes his arms down. “Well I can make you scream, qu-“

“Alright,” Harry and Soph eye each other. Harry has been to enough parties with Rod to know what level of drunk meant what level of no filter. And it was best they left him alone now. “We’ll see you around mate.”

“Thank you,” Soph whispers in his ear as she loops her arm and they walk away.

“What’s going on with you two?” Harry asks. He’s learned enough to know Sophie soured at the sight of him.

“Really?” She asks.

“Really—what?”

“Him and YN were hooking up a few weeks ago. He was just…ekgh.”

“That’s not a word,” Harry laughs.

“I know!” She throws her hands up, one of which holds a knife.

“Alright,” Harry holds his up. “It’s a word.”

She throws her head back and laughs, then wields the knife against his throat.

“Woah, Soph.”

“It’s fake!” She laughs again.

“Yeah thank god,” Harry lowers it and she tumbles into him with the pressure she had put on it.

“Oops,” she smiles up at him. “Hey how d’you know Scream Queens?”

Blood rushes to Harry’s head as she looks up at him through her lashes. Soph was beautiful—she always had been. But tonight she looks particularly beautiful. It could be the vodka. But he wanted to kiss her.

“I watched it over the summer with…” Harry had watched it with YN. This was YN’s friend. Maybe he shouldn’t kiss her.

“Hm?” She inches her arm up and loops it around his neck. Her head tilts to one side and Harry feels the vodka flood his brain while his blood rushes another direction. “You’ve got really nice eyes.”

“So do you.” Harry barely gets out.

“Our babies would have amazing eyes.” She says with complete seriousness. Obviously she was drunk.

“Yeah. Uhm,” Harry tries to push her away. He does, or he tells himself that. But when she stands on the balls of her feet Harry felt it was rude to not meet her halfway. Not press his lips against her strawberry-flavoured plush ones. It felt amazing.

“D’you wanna go somewhere?” She whispers in his ear.

Harry doesn’t want to. He just wants her to shut up so they can keep kissing.

He leads her gently to the wall and continues kissing her, displaying what he’s learned in his two months at uni. And the noises she makes does unspeakable things to Harry.

“C’mon!” She urges to him. “Surely one of the bedrooms are free!”

At the thought his mind clears for a single moment. Should he be doing this? Was his first time really going to be at a Halloween party with Soph?

“I don’t have any-“

“That’s alright!” She tugs him back to her. “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”

“You’ve got to lose the knife though,” Harry says against her lips.

She laughs and tucks it into his back pocket. “Okay?”

Her laugh scatters away the remaining rational thought and he follows her wherever she takes him.

***

“Alright team,” the head of Newspaper stands addressing the crowd. “This has been an incredible year of reporting. I think we’ve done a fantastic job and I want to commend you all on your efforts and time lent to our humble club. Our final edition is going to print today, and the year’s final episode releases this Friday. So do give it a listen. Next year we’ll be back invigorated with more stories to tell. Have a great holiday all!”

Harry’s eyes roam the room, feeling content at being part of this hard-working group.

Despite only a semester on the Newspaper Harry felt really bonded with everyone. The team was big, split into print and podcast and yet despite not knowing everyone, the passion for stories and reporting was palpable. Especially release weeks.

Over the semester Harry had gotten even closer to Florence and Gabriel, it made Newsroom feel even more collaborative. And they often grabbed a bite after Newsroom or they would sometimes go to Gabriel’s and play video games. YN would join occasionally.

YN, only being a first year, was often frustrated being sidelined by seniors. Her friends often heard about it after particular Newsroom meetings. Still, YN on the podcast team made waves and Harry knew because her name was often on a lot of projects or on the lips of a lot of seniors. It made him proud to be her friend, often it reminded him of how he used to think about her. But Newsroom was a perfect example of how they both had separate strengths and how they flourished in each of them. He’s glad he realized that last year.

Harry’s eyes continue to dart to the door, checking his phone. It was weird y/n didn’t show up today when she should have. Especially the final meeting.

When the group goes for dinner in the caf Harry spots their friend Sophie.

What started as hooking up at Halloween ended in a few other hook-ups over the last month or so. Each time Harry felt incredibly guilty but Soph was really nice to him and nice to kiss too. Plus, Mary had stopped hanging out with him without another word and he wasn’t exactly sure what he did for that. So he’d given her space.

“Y/n wasn’t at today’s meeting, shame.” Flo says to Soph. “D’you know where she is?l

“No, that’s strange. I saw her earlier today?” Soph looks at the group.

“Me too,” Gabe adds. “She’s around.”

“Yeah it is strange,” Harry comments. “She’s usually on time, or at least sends us a text if she can’t make it.”

“I hope everything’s okay,” Flo scrunches her brows.

“I’m sure it is.” Sophie reassures her.

She turns to Harry with a secret smile, one hand sliding onto his thigh. “Any plans after this?”

“Oh!” Harry startles as her hand slides higher up his thigh. This was so…public. “Maybe. Uhm. Soph can we talk?”

He’d wanted to talk to her all week but had been so busy with exams. He thought about it a lot and really didn’t think sneaking behind y/n’s back with her friend was right. Especially after he asked her not to hook up with Rod in his room and she stopped.

Sophie shrugs and follows him off to the side.

“We need to talk,” Harry starts, he waves between both of them. “About this.”

“Yeah?” Sophie asks.

“Yeah. And. About Y/n.”

Sophie just notices the serious tone to Harry’s voice. She stops playing with her hair and stands taller. “Okay. What about her?”

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to articulate his thoughts. “I’ve just been thinking with us being her friend, she doesn’t know about us. I don’t want to sneak behind her back give her another reason to have trust issues—she’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah,” Soph agrees. “Y/n’s strong. She’s got like, that tough quiet strength she just exudes it always. I admire that about her.”

Harry nods, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Exactly. She’s really loyal to her friends, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I just…don’t think she’d approve of this.”

Sophie’s eyes soften with understanding. “Oh.”

“What?”

“You…care about her don’t you?”

“Well uhm yeah she’s my friend I-I yeah-“

“Like care about her.” Soph cuts off Harry’s stuttering. He felt like an idiot.

“Uhhh…”

“Be honest,” Soph curls the side of her mouth. “It’s not like we’re dating I don’t like care if you do.”

“Yeah fine. More than I probably should yeah,” he sighs. “But she’s made it clear we’re nothing more than friends. And I’m fine with that but we go way back and she’s helped me though a lot. I just don’t want to lose her. As a friend. But you’re a really great person too Soph I don’t want to lose. And I don’t want it to get complicated here.”

“I get it,” Sophie shrugs. “But it doesn’t have to be complicated. Or a secret. We’re just having fun!”

“Yeah I just don’t want to jeopardize anything.”

Unbeknownst to Harry and Sophie, y/n enters the caf then and spots the two before spotting their usual table. She heads towards Harry and Sophie first, curious as to why they were separated in what looked like an intense discussion.

“Fine. I get it!” Sophie continues.

“I’ve screwed up with her enough.” Harry says as y/n gets within hearing distance. “I hate feeling like I’m walking on egshells around her.”

“YN’s a tough cookie,” Soph agrees. “I’d be scared to be on her bad side.”

“I’ve been on it. Kinda made my life hell. It’s like facing a lion with just a stick.”

“You poor thing,” Soph touches Harry’s cheek and laughs just as her phone vibrates. “Oh that’s Emmy hold on.”

Harry smiles as she steps away but it dies as y/n steps into view.

“Oh y/n…how long-“

“Walking on eggshells? Didn’t realize being around me was such a burden-“

“No y/n that’s not the-“

“Save it Harry,” her eyes flicker with hurt.

“No seriously!” Harry tries to explain. “I wasn’t saying it like that!”

“You compared me to a fucking lion!”

“Let me explain-“

“After everything I told you about me I thought we got each other Har-“ Y/n cuts herself off as her throat closes with tears. She was not the type to cry in front of anyone, especially a boy. She waits for the feeling to subside. “It’s pretty clear where I stand. And by the way, talking me down isn’t going to make you look good with Soph.”

“Y/n please,” Harry feels her slipping away again and he envisions taking her by the shoulder and giving her a good shake. He hated when she did this, like the tides at a beach she retreated so quickly all he was left with was sand. She never left enough time for someone to grab her.

“Just…whatever Harry.”

With that she turns on her heel and walks away, the noise in the caf suddenly comes roaring in on either side of Harry. He wants to turn the volume dial all the way down and run after her but he knows neither are possible.

“What was that?” Sophie reappears.

“She heard the wrong end of our conversation.” Harry says with dread. “I didn’t mean for her to hear it like that. She must think…I don’t even know what she must think.”

“Mmm,” Sophie squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “Just give her space. I’ll ask her what she heard and explain don’t worry. She’ll come around.”

Harry wasn’t so sure.

***

Harry watches as Mary enters the bar and looks around. For a moment he can just be another bloke seeing Mary for the first time wondering what she’s like with her cropped hair and animated brown eyes. He feels his heart picking up speed the longer he watches her—he can’t believe it took him this long to ask her out officially.

Although it wasn’t entirely his fault.

Harry didn’t think Mary would ever be interested in him on a deeper level—he definitely wouldn’t date himself. And when Mary began to make excuses about hanging out last year, Harry took that as a big glaring sign he was right, instead of just asking her outright.

Then there was the tryst with Soph. And the fallout with y/n who cut him out of his life like she was scissors through wrapping paper. Harry acted like it didn’t hurt him but it did; after all the time they spent together he didn’t know how y/n could be so cold with people she called her friends. She didn’t even care about his explanation.

But Harry’s sister had given him an earful one night during Christmas break, about dating the girl he was really into and not being such a coward. It took him a whole month to work up the courage but on Valentine’s Day he’d asked Mary to be his. It was cheesy but she loved it. They’d hung out a few times and last week Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. He was officially in a relationship!

Mary catches his wave from the front and she breaks into her toothy smile that squeezed his heart every time it was directed his way. Falling in love made the whole world feel soppy. Harry’d never experienced something like this; in a world of learning and achievements this was one he felt really proud to get to.

“What are you smiling so hard about?” Mary teases as she reaches him. Harry kisses her and keeps her hand in his as they sit.

“Just this girl, can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Must be a lucky lady,” Mary grins. She was head over heels too.

“Nah I think I’m the lucky one.”

“God,” Mary pulls her hand away and presses them to her blushing cheeks. “You’re damn charming when you want to be Harry.”

That wasn’t a word anyone would ever use to describe him. Yet Harry feels over the moon to hear it. Here was proof he was changing—he was finally growing up.

The new couple have a few drinks with their food, they talk about school, friends, and the upcoming Easter Break.

“I’m heading home too,” Mary was originally from Liverpool. “My mum’s sister’s coming in from Australia for Easter. She’s got these little rascals I haven’t seen in years so I’ll have to see how big they’ve gotten now.”

“Are those the rascals who stole your Taylor Swift poster?”

“Signed poster,” Mary corrects him. “And yes. As payback because I caught then stealing their dad’s smokes. It’s been 3 years and I still haven’t gotten that back.”

“You really think they kept it?”

“Well we’re gonna find out,” Mary grinds her knuckles into the palm of her other hand. “I’m older and stronger now I can take them.”

Harry laughs, he loved seeing Mary when she was joking like this. Otherwise she was a bit like him when it came to studying and being serious.

“Well you’ve got a boyfriend now. I’ll make the trip if it means getting that poster back.”

“Would you!?” Mary reaches out to him. “That’s actually so sweet.”

Harry’s chest fills with warmth as she kisses him, and that sparks a different hunger. They pay their tab and head out hand in hand back to his dorm.

Rod isn’t in and they take advantage of that.

Roderick and Harry had continued their friendship despite y/n disappearing from his dorm. They’d gotten to the point where Harry declined a couple parties and Rod didn’t take it personally, and Harry actually helped Rod out with some of his studies. They worked out together and there was a better balance.

He did see y/n at parties sometimes. A couple times with Rod too. He tried to talk to her the first couple times but she always danced away just as he got to her. So he stopped trying. She was frustrating.

“Hey,” Mary kisses his jaw. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry,” Harry had gotten lost in his head again. “I think Rod’s gonna be back soon-“

“Oh,” Mary sighs. “Okay. My roommate’s a shut in, too bad we can never go to mine.”

“If I asked him to not come home he wouldn’t,” Harry realizes Mary wanted to cross some bases too late. He really should stick to being in his body more often. He should have messaged Rod as soon as they headed here.

“Maybe next time,” Mary smiles sweetly. She wipes the side of Harry’s lips with her thumb, that’s when he realizes she was wearing lipstick. It was a subtle colour but not as much when it’s smeared on her chin. Something about seeing it like that feels endearing to him.

“Until then,” he pulls her back to him and kisses her hard, she responds in kind. Just as Harry slips his hand below her tee the doorknob jiggles. He sighs, “Fuck.”

“It’s alright,” Mary whispers below him. “That was fun.”

He peers back down at her, her lipstick is even worse but she’s looking up at him like she’s seeing him for the first time. Note to self show Mary how much I like her, Harry realizes.

This time he uses his thumb to swipe at the smudged lipstick. She smiles at him like he hung the stars.

***

Harry would have taken the train home last night to avoid the crowds but it was his last day with Mary before being apart for 2 weeks and he wanted to make the most of it. So now he pays the consequences with a packed train and barely any leg room.

The guy next to him plays some video game on his phone, the person across from that guy is already napping with her mouth open. Harry waits to see who takes the seat across and his heart drops when they finally take the seat and look up at him.

“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters.

Y/n. Of course it would be her. She’s cut her hair since the last time he saw her—now she has a fringe and he’s pretty sure layers with how much they flick outwards from her face.

“Y/n,” Harry greets her. This was going to be one long train ride. Although he wasn’t sure what she was doing here—did she move on campus this semester?

“Harry…” she says with a studied coolness.

“Nice to see you.”

“Is it?” She asks. “Look I’ll just find another-“

She gets up but Harry’s faster. He stretches out his long leg to block the corridor. She’s stuck within the 4-seater.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you in,” Harry says with a small smile. She would be forced to sit in front of him, he would finally be able to get her to talk.

“Harry don’t be so immature move your leg.”

“That’s your seat just take it y/n.” He motions to it.

“Harry!” She tries to climb over it but Harry just raises his leg and it throws her off balance. She nearly falls backwards but Harry springs up fast enough to balance her. That’s how he finds himself standing in her personal space, one hand on her lower back and the other clutching her arm.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Get. Off of me.” She replies.

He lets her go and she actually sits back down. Harry glances around and flushes as he realizes everyone around them had started staring.

“Nice hair,” Harry tries again as the train leaves the station. By then they’d been sitting in silence for at least 15 minutes.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Y/n brushes her bangs.

“So are you on campus now?” Harry continues casually.

This both surprises and irritates y/n. Usually he was very sensitive to when she was being a bitch to him, but now it seemed he was getting some enjoyment out of talking to her despite her attempt at staying cold; something had changed with him.

“No.” She answers as clipped as possible.

“So you’re taking the train home today because…”

“God Harry,” y/n sighs. “I had my last exam and stayed out too late. Now stop asking me questions like I’m in a bloody interview. Leave me alone!”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing the last couple months,” Harry grumbles. The look she gives him could cut him in half.

She studies him, what’s changed she wonders. He still didn’t meet her eye completely but he was challenging her a lot more. She wouldn’t have minded it as much if she wasn’t recovering from a killer hangover.

“So won’t be hard to continue.” She glares.

And that’s how the remaining hour or so is spent sitting across from his friend or ex-friend, whatever. In silence. Apart from a few glances her way he buries his nose in his book and texts Mary as she boards her own train.

Of course, they get off on the same platform and when Harry’s mum catches sight of y/n she insists on giving her a ride home since y/n was just going to take the bus. The two of them sit in silence as Harry’s mum asks them a dozen questions. The ride ends with an invite for dinner and a non-committal yes from y/n.

“You guys get into a fight or something?” Harry’s mum asks as they drive to their home.

“Or something,” Harry mumbles.

“It was like the the bloody DMZ in here.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s just y/n being y/n.”

“I saw her a couple weeks ago at M&S,” Harry’s mum continues. “She didn’t look so good I offered her a ride but she said she was waiting for her sister to finish her shift. D’you know what’s going on with her?”

Harry thought about it but couldn’t think of a single thing. Y/n kept her cards very close to her chest.

“No. She doesn’t share much.”

“Well do you ask?”

“No but even if I did she would just shut me out,” Harry suddenly feels defensive.

“It’s still nice to be asked,” his mum says. “Knowing someone cares enough.”

Harry looks at his mum, the words she’s saying makes sense. But it surprises him to hear them and realize just how much it made sense. How come he’s never realized that?

Maybe he was a shittier friend than he realized.

So Harry gives it a few days and shows up at y/n’s house. This time he knew exactly where to find her.

“You are?” One of y/n’s brothers answers the door. He was a couple years older than them.

“Harry I uh-is y/n home?”

“Maybe,” his brother continues to scrutinize Harry until he squirms. “Wait here.”

He waits for an eternity, sitting down on the stoop while he does. Finally the door opens behind him and y/n joins him on the stoop.

She’s in a blue sweater and pyjama pants. Harry’s surprised to see little powerpuff girls all over them. His sister used to watch that Friday evenings.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I just want to talk y/n,” Harry had practiced looking her in the eye. Just talking to her like a friend. He looks at her now. “You’ve been icing me out for months now it’s unfair. Sophie told me she told you what we were talking about, how you walked in when it sounded wrong and you’re still mad about it?”

She stares at him for a beat before sighing.

As she exhales she grows smaller in front of him until she’s drooped over, her arms circle her knees, and her head rests atop them—she’s the size of a pumpkin.

“I’m not mad at that,” she admits. “Sophie explained you didn’t mean it like that. I was more offended just at the fact that you two were talking about me. But I didn’t realize you two were close…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that-“

“That,” she cuts him off. “Is mostly why I was upset with you. You made such a big deal that I was hooking up with Rod meanwhile you were banging one of my friends? Behind my back?”

“We weren’t-I wouldn’t say bang-“

“Doesn’t matter Har!” Y/n sits up again and Harry feels the clouds break for a sec as she uses his nickname. “That wasn’t a great way to find out. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Harry didn’t know. Or he did: he didn’t think him and Soph were going to be more than a one time thing and when it was, he was ashamed a bit. He didn’t think he would go to college and have a casual relationship as his first one. It wasn’t something he necessarily wanted public knowledge.

“Maybe I was scared. I dunno. I just know I’m really sorry.”

They sit in silence for a few seconds, Harry hears the hoover turn on in yn’s house.

“Why’ve you got to be so fucking honest for,” y/n finally says with a sigh. “Makes it so hard to be mad at you when you’re all sincere and vulnerable.”

“Sorry,” Harry repeats.

“Stop it!” YN exclaims.

“Fine!” Harry’s heart pounds. “I don’t give a fuck about how you felt. Happy?”

Y/n freezes and slowly turns to stare at him. A smile ever so slowly tugs at the corner of her lips. She almost looks proud?

“Harry!” She grins. Then she punches him square in the bicep. Then gasps. “Have you been working out?”

Harry had been; in between class and clubs and dating, he started working out last winter with Rod.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n,” Harry jokes and y/n snorts. The two look at each other at the sound of it before bursting out in laughter.

“I don’t know where that came from!” Y/n says through laughter. “I literally snorted!”

“You sounded like Peppa Pig,” Harry also has tears in his eyes. He missed hanging out with y/n.

Once they get ahold of their laughter Harry bumps his shoulder into hers. “It’s nice you’re talking to me again.”

She looks like she wants to say something to Harry, her eyes grow intense as she fixes onto him, her chin wobbling, but then it passes. Harry ignores the spark of disappointment.

“Yeah we’ll see.” She says with a half smile.

All was right in the world again, Harry thought.

He should have known, though, being friends with y/n would never be that simple.

TAGLIST: hmu if you want to be added

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #college!harry #ya harry styles #enemies to friends #idk #harry stylesxreader #things to learn #harry styles series #how the HELL has it been over a year since part 1 #HOW #nerd!harry

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

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Zipper Extra VI

Read the rest of Zipper here

@jhughesangel for you :)

Some cavity inducing sweetness (hopefully)

P.S. Sorry I'm writing about the holiday season. Again. I'm sure that's tiring but fall/winter is my favorite time of year and it makes for the most romance in my brain.

~2.2k words

On the first of the month, she began baking. Harry had seen her in action at her place, but now it was their place and coming home some nights after she did to an apartment that smelled like cookies, cinnamon, and apples. It was heavenly and more than ever he wished with everything in him that he hadn’t waited so long to have this moment.

Every space of the apartment was decorated with red berries and greenery and other Christmas décor. The tree stood in the window of the living room overlooking the town. It was beautiful and magical. Harry didn’t even have a tree, the last few years which pained her to no end. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t have one prior to them dating either. The only Christmas tree he saw was the one at his mum’s house. Or at her place.

But they were living together, now. So, every holiday was warm and inviting. It felt like home when he was there. She made it make sense. “S’not our anniversary, right?” He asked, coming to stand behind her. His hands pressed onto the counter on either side of her as he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck as a gentle hello. The rest of his body was warm against her back, his body encasing her between the bowl of chocolate and Harry.

Turning her head as much as she could to get a peripheral look at him, she licked the excess frosting off her thumb, she shook her head. “No, baby. Wrong month,” she giggled.

Harry wrinkled his nose “M’sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted.

“It’s okay. I’ve never really been one for anniversaries,” she shrugged. Yet she always has a present for me. He thought to himself with a frown. “I mean...” she noted the way his body deflated with a sigh. “I think I love you pretty well every day...I think there are worse things in life than forgetting a card or a day where you finally came to your senses,” she twisted in his embrace, and she brought the tip of her finger to his lips so he could have a tasted of the frosting. It was silly and romantic all at once. He gave her finger a gentle bite inciting the most beautiful, little giggle from her. “Does that make sense?” She asked.

“So I should be giving y’a gift every day because m’in love with you all the time,” he nodded with a half grin.

“No,” she laughed and rested her forehead on his chest. “No way. Your gifts? We’d be broke.”

“It would be worth it,” he murmured. “I’d spend every penny I had on you.”

“Absolutely not what I want.”

He chuckled rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “Did you have a good day?”

She nodded. “I won my case,” she murmured into his chest.

“Y’don’t sound very excited over the good news, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head.

“It didn’t feel like winning,” she mumbled. “Sometimes fighting for the top dog doesn’t feel very good.”

Her poor sweet soul. “S’never made any sense t’me that someone as sweet as you would be a corporate lawyer.”

“M’good at it,” she said defensively and pouted as she looked up at him.

“I know you’re good at it, angel,” he nodded. “S’not a question. But morally, your heart is jus’ so much nicer,” he kissed the top of her head. “M’surprised y’don’t cry in court sometimes.”

“S’really hard sometimes,” she admitted.

“Y’don’t have t’be a corporate lawyer if y’don’t want.”

“Yeah...but then I wouldn’t have an office next to yours. We wouldn’t have lunch together..." Harry felt a pang of adoration shoot through him. Like she had personally squeezed the veins of his heart just as a reminder that he adored her so much. "And you’d make way more money than me and I wouldn’t be able to afford living here.”

“Y’could live here for free,” he rolled his eyes--as if money would keep him from her. “Jus’ make y’pay me in kisses...and other things.”

She tilted her head up to look at his face while he gazed down at her. “I love you,” she smiled.

He grinned and shook his head. “Thank goodness,” he murmured and attached his lips to hers. They tasted of chocolate, love, sweetness, and happiness. Perfectly her.

She didn’t like having a blindfold on—especially in public and without a clue of where they were headed. It was chilly but her coat was warm, and Harry had his arm firmly around her waist. One thing she trusted was that Harry would never let her fall. “I am already surprised Harry. Please let me take it off. I must look insane, and people are probably thinking you’re going to kidnap me.”

“I would love t’see someone try and kidnap you,” he chuckled. “Watch y’step, kitten,” he hummed and squeezed her tighter as he brought her up two steps. She had no sense of where they were—not by sight of course—but he had taken her around three different blocks in order to disorient her. The smells didn’t help either because it was a Saturday night. It was Christmas time, and everywhere in the little city smelled and sounded the same. “Think y’would argue with them about how they didn’t tie the blindfold tight enough.”

“The same cannot be said for you,” she wrinkled her nose trying to get the fabric to move around her face. “Is it weird? You’re not going to embarrass me are you?” She asked.

“What on earth d’you think m’going t’do, kitten?” He laughed. “We’re almost there, just a few more steps.”

“I don’t know. Maybe me accidentally taking your towel every morning has finally done you in and you’re going to murder me and hide my body.”

“Kitten, we’re around other people. Please don’t give them ideas.”

“I don’t think you would murder me. But statistically, you’re the one most likely to.”

“M’ignoring you,” he murmured. The people around them gave sympathetic and awkward smiles. “Okay, two steps,” he pressed his hand on her lower back. The back of her calf touched something solid but she hadn’t a clue where she was. It could have been anywhere. But they were still outside. Maybe it was just a bench? Or a wall by the fountain? She had no way of knowing.

“Am I going to be in a blindfold the entire night?”

“No, m’love. M’gonna take it off as soon as y’sit,” he said gently touching her hips to guide her to sitting on the seat behind her. She was quiet as Harry reached behind her head, the palms of his hands sliding softly against her cheeks as he reached. Before he undid the knot, he gently massaged his fingertips into her hair and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. It made her stomach flutter and she felt like she would explode from the way he made her feel.

The moment she opened her eyes she was greeted with Harry’s gorgeous green eyes gazing at her. “God you’re pretty,” he murmured, and she felt a bit dizzy hearing it from his lips—Harry was pretty, too. It took every bit of willpower to tear her eyes away from his gaze. His hand slid into her lap, and he twisted their fingers together while she took in the surroundings. There was a man directing a horse on a perched seat above them an older top hat on his head. The carriage they sat in was white, with red leather seats. Green garland with red berries and Christmas bows draped around them. A set of twinkly lights was hung around the little awning of the carriage as well. Her lips parted as the horse quietly pulled them around the park. There was a dusting of snow, Harry couldn’t have dreamed of a better day to do this. But it was perfect, exactly what he wanted.

Speechless. She was completely and totally speechless.

Harry watched her expression change about a thousand times in one minute trying to make sense of what was happening. “Y’okay, in there?” He asked cupping the side of her face and brushing his thumb on her cheek. “S’this...not what you wanted?” He asked feeling the nerves creep up.

Did she forget their anniversary? No... it wasn’t that. Did he do something wrong? Why was...how did he know?

Maybe this was just something she wanted to do with her ex-boyfriend and not Harry. Maybe this wasn’t something she wanted anymore. “Er...we can...stop, if y’want, kitten. I thought y’would want this...but...maybe I got it wrong, naturally. Thought y’would want to—”

She shook her head trying to shake some sense into her mind and get her brain cells to put together a coherent thought rather than just staring at the scene before her. “No...” she shook her head quickly. “No...this is...Harry this is perfect,” she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled and a relieved sigh left his lungs in the form of a nervous chuckle. “Oh...good,” he pressed his lips against her temple and watched her eyes scanning the park around her. They had been to the park about a thousand times on foot, but seated in a horse drawn carriage, it was as if she had never seen the trees and paths. The light displays and the children milling in front of their parents were completely new to her.

“How...how did you...did you ask my sister about this?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No...”

“Did I tell you about this?” But she was certain she didn’t. She hadn’t thought about a carriage ride in years.

“Uh...no,” he smiled awkwardly giving her hand a squeeze. “When we were studying one time...y’were all upset ‘bout your ex not planning dates or whatever. You were on the phone with your sister and y’said y’wanted a Christmas carriage ride.”

Her heart felt like it was melting. “You...heard that?” She sounded so stunned. Harry was a bit worried about her well-being. She seemed completely out of sorts. To him, this was the only thing that made sense. In fact, he should have planned this when they first started dating. In his mind, this was nearly three years too late. Lord, knew it was over a decade too late for her sweet self. “You...remember that?”

He smiled, squeezing her hand in her lap again. With his freehand he brought it to her face again and brushed his thumb across her face. “I know...I know y’have forgiven me for...how mean I was—”

“You weren’t mean.”

“Well, I wasn’t nice t’you, kitten. S’well as being mean. Y’deserve nothing but kindness. You’re the sweetest soul I know.” She wanted to respond but she felt like there was more he wanted to say, and her throat was closing around the warm emotion she felt the longer he spoke. “M’sorry, again. For all that I put you through.”

It wasn’t that bad. She couldn’t tell him enough. She knew it ate at him like nothing else, so she simply nodded. “I know you’re sorry. But really...it’s alright, baby. I know—”

“Shh,” he hushed pressing a finger to her lips. “M’not done.” She felt like the blindfold was placed around her lips at his words. It was so perfect. The right temperature, the right scene, the perfect guy.

“Okay,” she murmured.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive myself,” he admitted. “But m’so glad I figured out how I felt. M’so sorry it took me s’long. More than being mean t’you...I don’t know if I’ll forgive myself for taking s’long. Wasting all that time we could have been together. But I don’t want t’waste time ever again,” he promised.

He kept hold of her hand as he shifted from the seat to the floor of the carriage balancing on one knee and digging into his coat pocket as if he did this all the time. He pinched the small box in his grip with his free hand. She couldn’t even see inside the box, but she knew that her heart was going to explode when she did. So, it was for the best that she didn’t get to see it. “Y’make me so happy. You’re m’favorite person t’wake up to. T’come home to. Before you, I never even thought ‘bout marriage. It only makes sense when I think ‘bout you,” he was rushing his words a bit. Like when he first told her how much he liked her and how he would be a shitty boyfriend.

He was anything but.

“I don’t know if I’ll get better at remembering anniversaries and birthdays but God, kitten. I want t’try with you. Because y’deserve the best and m’not sure if s’me that’s best for you but I want to be. I want t’take you on carriage rides and make sugar cookies with our little babies that will look jus’ like you and take them t’soccer practice on weekends. I know s’not anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten. Inside or out,” he never made sense when he was spilling all the emotions directly from his heart, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She thought she might cry if he spoke any longer.

“Please, marry me,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @st-ev-ie @lovrave @harrysxcarolina @pandeebearstyles

@sunshinextemptress94

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

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jezebelblues · 1 month ago

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𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 | 𝐇.𝐒 | 𝟏 *ੈ𑁍༘⋆

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥.

pt 1, pt 2 (completed)

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐂𝐖: drug usage/selling, angst, college!harry, fem!reader, smut in pt2 if that’s what ur here for, allusions to violence, friends to lovers if u squint

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 13.8k

❏ i was trying to compress this into only being one part but i felt like each piece of them growing closer was too important to the plot to be deleted </3 but i’m posting pt 2 like right after this so !! btw this is so fratrry coded but bro is not in a frat. he’s just a broke college student that sells drugs fr

masterlist

off campus housing was a curse sometimes.

but, if you had the option between dorming it out or paying for an apartment yourself, maybe it could be categorized as both a blessing and a curse.

but for YN and harry, it’s just a curse.

a dorm wasn’t in the cards for them in general—it was hard enough drowning in loans for tuition itself, and adding thousands more for shitty campus housing was just overboard.

but still, the illusion of choice would’ve been nice.

they lived in carson hall, off campus apartments that were filled to the brim with students. there might’ve been a few tenants in the building that weren’t a student, but they were probably there for the same reason as everyone else—affordability.

$850 per month felt like a rarity, and it was pretty much unheard of in new york. so, if you were a broke student that couldn’t dorm, this was your saving grace.

if the walls in the unit weren’t brick, it was cheap drywall that had the paint chipping off. there was a radiator that broke every month like clockwork, sat right underneath a window with glass so thin it shook with the breeze.

there was no carpet except for in the main lobby, everything else was either tiled linoleum and creaky wooden floors installed in the 90’s. there was a communal laundry unit in the basement that required four quarters exactly, nothing else. sometimes it’d swallow the coins, sometimes it wouldn’t, and sometimes it’d eat their coins and wouldn’t turn on at all.

there was a maintenance man that lived on the first floor—living there for half the rent since he was on call 24/7 on the weekdays to fix anything the apartment complex needed—but you’d have to be the luckiest person on earth for him to respond. if the washer ate your quarters, chances are, you won’t be getting them back. and if the sink continued to drip water in rhythm with your heartbeat, you’d be better off watching a youtube tutorial on plumbing basics than calling for the maintenance guy.

but, it was four walls and a roof—not to mention, it was only a five minute walk from the dining hall (the heart of campus, obviously).

YN and harry didn’t know each other, not exactly. they lived on the same floor, and harry was the guy that was known for dealing to make rent and loan payments.

and YN was the girl that always had sleepy eyes and smelt of vanilla and cinnamon—sugar and spice.

but that was it between them, fleeting glances of acknowledgment and the lingering scent of vanilla laced with weed in the hallway.

all until the first knock tapped against his door at one-thirty in the morning.

it was one of those nights where the due dates of assignments pressed down heavy, like it was daring you to breathe under the weight.

harry’s radiator was hissing again, spitting steam into his tiny apartment, a kind of mocking applause for everything breaking down. his desk was cluttered with blueprints—half-sketched, smudged, unfinished—and on the counter, the last edible he'd cut sat wrapped in foil, waiting for whoever was desperate enough to buy it.

the knock was soft. hesitant. not the kind of knock that screamed cops or where's the party? harry almost didn't get up. whatever it was, it could wait.

but something about it—how it lingered, quiet but insistent—dragged him to the door. barefoot, wearing nothing but a ratty tshirt and sweatpants, he swung it open without bothering to check who it was.

YN.

the girl who always smelled like a fucking christmas cookie. she stood in the hallway like she'd been arguing with herself for hours, her arms wrapped around her torso to keep warm. she didn't say anything right away, just looked at him with wide, tired eyes.

harry leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. "are y’lost?"

her voice came out softer than he expected. “i need…something.”

he raised an eyebrow, scanning her quickly—her pink sweatpants, the hoodie that was two sizes too big, the way she kept glancing at the floor like she hated being here. "that's specific. milk? a lightbulb? help moving a body?"

"for my roommate," she rushed, ignoring the bite in his tone. "she's—she's having a panic attack or something, some stupid argument with her boyfriend i think—and i don't have anything that can help."

harry stared at her.

her voice cracked, the desperation cutting through the cool front she was trying to hold. "it's late, and the pharmacies are closed, and i just—someone said you might have something."

"someone.” he repeated, pushing off the doorframe, his tone sharp enough to slice through her composure.

"please."

something about that word caught him off guard. not the word itself, but the way she said it—like she was embarrassed to use it, like it physically hurt to ask him for anything. harry sighed, stepping back. "wait there."

he crossed the room to the counter, digging through the shoebox that held the operation he kept as low-key as possible. the old baggie of edibles rustled faintly in his hands, and for a second, he thought about saying no. this wasn't his problem.

but he grabbed one anyway, turning back to find her still standing in the hallway, arms wrapped tighter around herself. he shoved the baggie into her hand. "take this and go."

she hesitated, looking down at it. "is it safe?"

harry's laugh came out sharp and humorless. "you knock on my door at one in the morning, asking for something t’fix a panic attack, and you're worried about FDA approval? yeah, it's safe. s’low-dose."

her fingers curled around the bag. "how much do i owe you?"

he shook his head, already tired of this conversation. "don't worry about it. just go."

YN started to turn, but her gaze caught on the cluttered desk in the corner—blueprints stacked in uneven piles, a half-empty coffee cup balancing on the edge. "what's all that?" she asked, her voice quiet but curious.

"none of your business."

he stepped forward and shut the door before she could ask anything else. the lock clicked, and for a long second, he stood there, staring at the closed door, wondering why the hell he'd helped her at all.

friday nights strained. not the kind that made you feel like you’d accomplished something. no, this was the other kind. the kind that made harry want to throw his phone into the east river and spend the rest of the weekend in bed, ignoring the world.

by eight pm, the texts started rolling in like they always did.

can u drop to sigma chi?

emergency. we need molly asap. paying extra if u can get here by 10.

it wasn’t glamorous. it wasn’t even fun. but it paid the rent.

harry sat at his desk, staring at the mess of blueprints he hadn’t touched all week, his phone lighting up next to him with another text. the math was simple: weed, molly, shrooms, lsd. nothing heavy, nothing messy, and no one under twenty-one.

he grabbed his backpack, already packed from the night before—a hollowed-out calculus textbook buried inside. it was beat to shit, but nobody looked twice at a guy carrying around a heavy book and a bookbag on campus.

the first stop was sigma chi. always sigma chi.

by the time he got there, the party was in full swing. the air reeked of spilled beer and too much cologne, bass pounding through the walls like a heartbeat that refused to die. harry slipped in through the side door, past a crowd of girls laughing too loudly and holding plastic cups like they were accessories.

the guy waiting for him was leaned against the fridge, his baseball cap turned backwards, a grin plastered on his face. “harry, my man!”

he didn’t answer. didn’t smile. instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small baggie, handing it over like he was exchanging a pack of gum. the guy shoved some crumpled twenties into harry’s hand, already too distracted by his phone to say anything else.

“you’re a lifesaver, bro.”

he left through the back door without another word.

weekends were always like this. frat houses, dorm rooms, random street corners. most fridays, he had ten stops, maybe more if people got desperate.

his phone buzzed constantly. texts rolling in every fifteen minutes:

can you meet by the bodega?

do u have anything stronger? asking for a friend.

the last one made him roll his eyes. he didn’t do stronger. stronger got people killed, got cops asking questions. harry wasn’t stupid. this wasn’t about partying or fun; it was money.

he started dealing during his first year at nyu. not because he wanted to, but because the scholarships didn’t cover everything, and student loans only went so far.

at first, it was just weed. his guy, jeff, lived in brooklyn—a family man with a college degree, a wife, and two kids. harry used to think guys like jeff had it figured out: the house in a decent neighborhood, the minivan parked out front, the soccer games on weekends. but his life was no more stable than harry’s.

jeff’s business wasn’t just selling weed—it was growing it, right in his basement. his wife knew, of course. they kept it far from the kids, locked up tight behind a door that might as well have been a vault.

he hadn’t started out as a dealer, either. he ran his own small business—some business marketing firm that couldn’t compete with the bigger guys. now, the basement was his fallback, extra income, and harry couldn’t help but see a version of himself in jeff. same fire, same hustle, same gnawing ache of more, more, more.

“this isn’t enough,” he had said one night, halfway through weighing a fresh batch. the house smelled faintly of citrus and pine, a scent jeff swore masked the weed smell. “you ever thought about branching out?”

harry frowned, leaning back against the workbench “branching out how?”

“psychedelics—shrooms, lsd. same crowd, bigger profit. no one’s getting hooked, no one’s overdosing. it’s clean.”

harry’s gut twisted. he didn’t like the sound of it—too messy, too big. “i dunno, mate. weed’s easy. i don’t want t’get in deeper.”

jeff leaned against the table, crossing his arms. “i get it. but you’re already in. and if you play it smart, you don’t have to worry about the cops, or junkies, or any of that shit. i know a guy in the bronx—mutual friend. you’d like him. solid guy, clean product.”

he hesitated, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table. “y’really think it’s worth it?”

jeff smiled faintly, shrugging. “depends on what you want. if it’s just enough to scrape by, keep doing what you’re doing. but if you want to breathe a little? yeah. it’s worth it.”

harry didn’t jump in right away.

it took a few weeks of thinking, weighing the risks against the reward. but eventually, he made the trip to the bronx. the guy jeff pointed him to was older, late thirties maybe, with a clean apartment and a habit of over-explaining. harry liked him immediately.

the product was good. better than he expected. shrooms, lsd tabs, packaged clean and easy to move. the kind of stuff that sold itself to the right crowd.

molly came later.

it started with frat guys asking for it at parties, offering triple what harry charged for weed. at first, he turned them down. molly was different—harder to control, riskier. but the money kept knocking at his door, and harry, tired of scraping by, finally let it in.

his guy in the bronx knew a supplier. harry kept it lowkey—low doses, clean product, no bullshit. but it still weighed on him, the way every step deeper into this life felt like standing on thin ice.

jeff always said this kind of hustle didn’t last forever. harry just hoped he’d find a way out before it swallowed him whole.

his voice stayed in his head more than he liked to admit—you can’t do this forever, kid. something’s gotta give.

but that was the problem, wasn’t it? harry didn’t know what would give first—his luck, his sanity, or the thin line he kept walking between survival and collapse.

the deeper he got into dealing, the more he saw how easy it was for people to lose themselves in it. not just the buyers—people like jeff, too.

there was this one night, months after harry started moving psychedelics. jeff had called him over, saying he had some fresh product he wanted harry to try. he drove out to brooklyn, expecting the usual.

but when he got there, he looked different. tired in a way that felt heavier.

“you good?” he had asked, leaning against the workbench.

he nodded, but his hands trembled slightly as he sealed a bag. “yeah, just a long week. car broke down, furnace is acting up… you know how it is.”

he did. too well.

when he left that night, the bag of weed tucked into his backpack, he couldn’t shake the thought—this doesn’t end well. jeff had everything harry thought he wanted—a family, a house, a life that looked solid from the outside. and still, it wasn’t enough.

he lit a cigarette as he drove back to the city, the smoke curling around him in the dark car. he couldn’t let this life be all there was. couldn’t let it pull him down the same way it was pulling jeff.

but even as he told himself he’d find a way out, harry’s phone buzzed with another text, another buyer, another deal.

just enough was never enough.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. he was tired. bone-tired. the kind of tired that lived in his spine and refused to leave, no matter how much sleep he got.

but he typed back anyway.

because this was life. grinding himself into the ground so someone else could forget their bullshit for a night.

and as much as he hated it, he couldn’t afford to.

the rain wasn’t letting up. the kind that soaked you through in seconds, cold and sharp like a thousand tiny needles stabbing your skin. the stairwell in the building was already a deathtrap on the best days—cheap tiles, no traction, old wood.

he was on the couch when he heard it. a thud, heavy and hollow, like someone had dropped a bag of bricks—or fallen. then the curses followed, muffled but furious, the kind of sound that pulled him out of the half-sleep he’d been drifting into.

he sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. for a second, he thought about ignoring it. again, wasn’t his problem. but something about the sound got under his skin.

grabbing the sweatshirt hanging off the back of the couch, he pulled it on and opened the door, peering out into the dimly lit hallway.

that’s when he saw her.

sprawled on the stairs, her sweater soaked through, hair sticking to her face, and an armful of books scattered around her like shrapnel.

fucking christ, harry thought, leaning against the doorframe. he crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you always this graceful, or is it a wednesday night special?”

she looked up, and if looks could kill, he’d have been dead on the spot. her cheeks were flushed, probably from a mix of frustration and exertion, and her jaw was clenched tight enough to crack. “are you always this much of an asshole, or do i just bring it out in you?”

harry let the smirk grow into something closer to a grin. “you okay?” he asked, his tone half-mocking, half-genuine.

YN didn’t answer right away. she was too busy untangling herself, her knee hitting the step as she tried to gather the mess of books and papers that had spilled everywhere.

harry sighed, pushing off the doorframe. “hold on.”

he jogged down the stairs, crouching to pick up a book near her feet. the cover was soaked, the pages already curling at the edges. he flipped it over in his hand, inspecting the damage. “you’re gonna fail with this,” he said, holding it up. “this thing’s toast.”

she snatched the book from him, glaring. “you’re toast.”

he chuckled under his breath, bending to pick up another one. this time, it was a notebook—thick, overstuffed, with half the pages threatening to fall out. “what are you even carrying all this for?”

“this is college, is it not?”

harry straightened, stacking the notebook on top of the book in her arms. “you’re gonna wreck your back lugging all this around.”

“not everyone has money for a decent bag.” she muttered, not looking at him as she grabbed the papers from his hand.

that made him pause. his jaw tightened, his usual sarcasm flickering into something harder, heavier. he opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then closed it just as fast.

he shifted, handing her the last book. “here. try not to break your neck next time.”

she snorted, a bitter laugh slipping out before she could stop it. she pushed herself up, wincing as she shifted her weight onto her right leg.

“you sure you’re okay?” harry asked again, watching the way she was favoring her left leg.

“i’m fine.”

“right.” harry muttered, crossing his arms as she started up the stairs. he followed her halfway up, more out of habit than concern, and watched as she struggled to balance her books against the wet fabric of her sweater.

when they reached the landing, she stopped, glancing back at him. “thanks,” she said, the word sounding like it physically hurt her to say.

harry shrugged. “don’t mention it.”

as she turned to head toward her apartment, she added over her shoulder, “no, seriously. don’t.”

he smirked again, shaking his head as he watched her limp away. he didn’t respond, just leaned against the wall, waiting until she disappeared into her unit before heading back to his own.

he dropped onto the couch, dragging a worn notebook off the coffee table and flipping it open. but his focus was shot. all he could picture was her on the stairs—soaked, pissed, and too stubborn to admit she wasn’t fine.

her comment stuck with him, too. not everyone has money for a decent bag. harry hated how much that hit home.

the world didn’t give a shit if you couldn’t afford what you needed. if you didn’t have it, you improvised. it was why he was out here selling weed and molly to spoiled frat boys and girls with trust funds so deep they could drown in them.

he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. his phone buzzed on the armrest beside him, breaking the silence.

it was one of his regulars, some sophomore who thought a couple grams of shrooms would make her weekend transformative.

yeah. same spot. 9pm.

he tossed the phone onto the table, leaning back against the couch, the springs groaning under his weight. this was the life: fixing busted radiators, chasing down half-earned engineering credits, and grinding himself into the ground so some kid could take a trip they’d forget by monday morning.

later that night, he was back out, a ballcap sat over his curls, backpack slung over his shoulder, heading to the usual corner just off washington square park. it wasn’t raining anymore, but the streets were still slick, reflecting the city lights like oil spills.

he spotted the girl waiting for him, leaning against a lamppost with her arms crossed. she waved when she saw him, a little too eager.

the exchange was quick, the shrooms passing from his hand to hers, the cash tucked into his pocket in one smooth motion. no small talk, no lingering.

when he got home, the hallway was quiet, except for the faint hum of the fluorescent light overhead. YN’s door was closed, no sounds coming from the other side.

he paused for a second, staring at it. he shook his head, unlocking his door and stepping inside. the idea that popped into his brain was stupid, irrational. he didn’t owe her anything. she was just the girl down the hall, who gave as much shit as she took.

but still, he dug into his closet, pulling out the old army surplus bag he’d stopped using after high school. it wasn’t much, but it was better than what she had now.

the next morning, harry slipped out of his apartment early, the bag in hand. he dropped it just outside her door, no note, no explanation, before heading out to his first lecture of the day.

when YN found it later, she stared at it for a long moment, her brows knitting together. she didn’t have to ask who left it. and even though she muttered asshole under her breath, she brought it inside with a faint smile.

because she needed it. and harry—whether he’d admit it or not—knew that.

the next time they saw each other, he was coming up the stairs, his backpack slung low, the smell of rain clinging to his sweatshirt. it was late—nearly eleven—and he was tired, the kind of exhaustion that sank into his chest and refused to let go.

YN was coming down, her new bag bouncing lightly against her hip. she was in scrubs and a college hoodie, hair tied back, but there was a tension in her face that hadn’t been there before. maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was the unmistakable look of someone dragging themselves through another brutal shift.

they almost passed each other without a word. almost.

but as they crossed paths, she stopped, her hand gripping the railing. “hey.”

harry stopped mid-step, turning to look at her. “hey,” he echoed, noncommittal.

she tilted her head toward the bag. “this you?”

he leaned against the railing, shrugging like it was no big deal. “needed something better, right?”

her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with her. finally, she shook her head, letting out a dry laugh. “why, though? why do you care?”

he blinked, caught off guard. he didn’t have an answer for that—at least not one he could say out loud. instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging again. “call it charity,” he said. “or don’t. i don’t really care.”

YN stared at him for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. then she nodded, her grip on the railing loosening. “thanks,” she muttered, her tone softer this time.

“don’t mention it.”

but before he could take another step, she smiled—the tiniest twitch upward. “no, seriously. don’t.”

he smirked at that, glancing back over his shoulder. “you’re welcome, cinnamon.”

her brows shot up at the nickname, her mouth opening to protest, but harry didn’t stick around to hear it. he was already heading back to his apartment, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

that should’ve been the end of it.

but the next day, when harry opened his door to grab the mail, there was a coffee cup sitting just outside, still warm, with no note or explanation.

he frowned, picking it up and staring at it like it might explode.

then, from down the hall, YN’s door opened, and she leaned out, raising an eyebrow at him. “drink it or don’t—i don’t care.”

he held up the cup, smirking. “what’s this? donations?”

“no,” she grinned, already retreating back inside. “just paying it forward, asshole.”

the door clicked shut, and he stood there, shaking his head, the faintest chuckle escaping him as he sipped the coffee.

their classes in south hall were evening ones, usually letting out at nine pm sharp.

YN stepped out of the biology lab first, tugging her sleeves down against the chill that crept into the building after dark. her bag was slung over her shoulders, the college crewneck rumpled from hours of sitting in the same chair. her jeans were stiff from the cold, her shoes scuffed with wear, and her hair fell loose around her face, sticking slightly to her cheek. she brushed it back absently, her eyes on the door ahead.

harry caught sight of her from the second-floor stairwell as he left his chemistry lecture—a rolling stones hoodie hung loose on his frame, sweatpants sitting low on his hips, his green sambas (that he bought second hand, his proudest find) practically falling apart at the seams.

he hadn’t planned on saying anything. hell, he wasn’t even sure she’d noticed him. but as he watched her push through the doors, her breath fogging in the cold, he felt something tug at him.

he hesitated for half a second before jogging down the stairs, his curls bouncing slightly as he caught up to her “hey.”

she glanced over her shoulder, her steps slowing just enough to register him. her brows furrowed when she saw him. “you’re in chemistry,” she said, like it was an accusation.

harry blinked, a bit confused as to what she was hinting at—but going with it anyway. “m’yeah. good observation, sherlock.”

“no, i mean,” she gestured vaguely behind her. “your class is upstairs. what’re you doing down here?”

harry shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “walking home. duh. our lectures must end at the same time.”

YN gave him a skeptical look, her pace picking up again as they stepped into the night. “you don’t have to do that,” she said quickly, her tone dismissive. “i’m fine.”

he fell into step beside her anyway, the straps of his backpack swinging slightly as he walked. “cool. didn’t ask.”

her jaw tightened, and she shot him a look. “seriously, i don’t need a babysitter.”

“good,” harry muttered, unbothered. “’cause I’m not volunteering.”

she sighed, tugging her bag closer to her body as they trudged through campus. the sound of their shoes against the pavement filled the space between them.

as they turned the corner, the streetlight flickered above, casting long, uneven shadows across the sidewalk. harry noticed the guy first.

it wasn’t unusual to be sketched out by randoms over here, their apartment was on the edge of campus—lots of stragglers where university police didn’t quite patrol.

he was leaning against a stop sign, his cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. his gaze was lazy, his posture too casual, the way people got when they wanted you to feel like they were watching you without actually looking.

harry stepped closer to YN without thinking, his shoulder brushing hers as he moved between her and the road.

“seriously?” she muttered, stopping mid-step to glare at him.

harry didn’t look at her, his eyes locked forward as they passed. “what?” he asked, voice calm. “said i’d walk with you. didn’t say i wouldn’t get in the way.”

she scoffed, but she didn’t pull away. he brushed it off, and in a way, she appreciated that—the way he acknowledged her nerves but didn’t say anything. the way he acted like it was just a miss-step rather than a reassurance.

when they reached the entrance of their apartment building, YN stopped, finally turning to face him. her arms were crossed now, her expression sharp. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“you’re welcome.” his eyebrows knit together in stifled laughter, looking straight past her as he opened the heavy door to their building, holding it open for her to walk through.

they went up the narrow stairwell quietly, each step creaking under their weight.

she pursed her lips, stepping past him to unlock her door. but just before she disappeared inside, she glanced back at him, her tone softer this time. “thanks, i guess.”

harry tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “don’t mention it.”

the door clicked shut behind her, and harry lingered for a second, staring at the empty hallway beyond. then he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket, turned, and headed to his own door. his rings clicked against his keys as he unlocked it, the faintest smirk still on his lips.

the walk back from the hospital felt longer tonight.

the clock had just ticked past ten, but the streets were alive with people heading to bars, parties, anywhere but where she’d been. YN tugged on the sleeves of her hoodie, pulling them down farther, the fabric worn soft from too many washes. her scrub pants swished faintly as she walked, her badge clipped to her pocket, catching the glow of passing headlights.

her shift had been hell. the kind of night where you didn’t have time to think, let alone breathe. a kid came in after a bad bike crash, his face pale, his leg bent in a way it shouldn’t have been. then there was guy that coughed up blood over her sneakers—not to mention running around the er the entire rest of shift to do the work the nurses couldn’t get to.

her feet dragged as she pushed through the door to her building, climbing the stairs to the second floor one step at a time.

the music hit her first.

it wasn’t loud, just a faint rhythm seeping through the crack of harry’s door. something easy, mellow.

as she walked past his door, her steps slowed, her gaze flicking toward it. for a second, she lingered, her pulse ticking faster than it should’ve. but then she kept walking.

she tried to focus on her own door, just a few steps away, but her mind wouldn’t settle. work had been brutal. her roommate would be on a two hour facetime with her boyfriend, giggling about nothing. her friends were either pulling late shifts or at some frat house, three beers deep by now. and the quiet—god, the quiet—was going to eat her alive.

before she even realized what she was doing, she spun on her heel, walking back the way she came. her hand hesitated over harry’s door, her fingers curling into a loose fist before she knocked.

the door swung open after a moment, and there he was.

he stood there in loose jeans and an old band tee, his curls falling into his face like he hadn’t bothered to push them back. the rings on his fingers glinted faintly in the dim light behind him, chipped black polish catching her eye.

“cinnamon,” he grinned, leaning one arm against the doorframe. his voice was low, amused. “what’s up?”

behind him, she saw the room wasn’t empty.

lounging on harry’s couch was louis, a guy she vaguely recognized from her english lecture—he was always late, always cracking jokes that somehow landed. and in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the counter, was a tall guy she didn’t quite recognize.

she took the smallest step back, shaking her head. “sorry,” she mumbled quickly. “didn’t realize you had people over. never-mind.”

he raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking from her to the empty hallway behind her. “y’sure? you look…” he trailed off, his lips quirking slightly. “rough.”

she glared at him. “thanks. really needed that.”

he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “you’re knocking on my door at ten o’clock, cinnamon. that’s gotta be for a reason, yeah?”

she hesitated, her fingers twitching at her side. the guy in the kitchen glanced over briefly, then went back to whatever he was doing, and louis didn’t seem to notice her at all. “forget it,” she muttered, stepping back again. “i’m fine.”

he didn’t move, his eyes narrowed as they locked onto hers. “bullshit.”

her jaw tightened, her shoulders straightening. “i was just gonna ask if you had anything. you know, to…” she gestured vaguely, avoiding his eyes. “take the edge off.”

his smile returned, slow and knowing. “didn’t peg you as the type.”

YN glared again, her cheeks flushing slightly. “for a dealer, you’re really bad at pushing sales.” she said flatly, spinning on her heel.

he chuckled lightly, stepping out into the hallway a bit. “hold on a sec.”

she paused, turning halfway back to face him.

he glanced over his shoulder, toward the couch and the kitchen, before meeting her eyes again. “come back in ten,” he nodded. “i’ll get rid of ‘em.”

she blinked, caught off guard. “you don’t have to—”

“i said ten.” he cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

before she could say anything else, he stepped back into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. YN stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door like it might open again. she bit the inside of her lip, fidgeting with her key and going inside.

and at exactly 10 minutes, she was back in front of harry’s door.

this time, she didn’t hesitate. she knocked twice, easier than before.

the door opened almost immediately.

harry stood there again, his curls pushed back out of his face this time. his expression was unreadable, somewhere between curiosity and amusement. “told you ten minutes.” he stepped back, leaving the door open for her. “c’mon.”

his apartment wasn’t what she expected, though she wasn’t sure what she’d pictured. it was small, dimly lit by a single desk lamp in the corner. the faint scent of weed hung in the air, but the room was surprisingly neat, except for a pile of papers and notebooks on the table.

lounging on the couch, louis was pulling on his jacket, his face lighting up in surprise when he saw her. “oh, hey. you’re…” he snapped his fingers, squinting. “chem lab, right? morning lecture?”

YN nodded stiffly, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her hoodie. “english,” she corrected. “i see you there sometimes.”

“right, right,” louis said, grinning. he turned to harry. “new buyer? good taste, man.”

harry rolled his eyes, stifling his own smile. “out.” he muttered, shoving a hand toward the door.

louis smirked but didn’t argue. he grabbed his bag, tossing a wink at YN before stepping into the hallway. the guy in the kitchen followed, slipping past her without so much as a glance, the scent of cheap cologne trailing behind him.

he shut the door with a sharp click, locking it before turning to face her. “there. happy?”

she crossed her arms, leaning against the wall near the door. “i didn’t ask you to kick them out.”

“you didn’t have to.”

she sighed, her gaze shifting to the desk in the corner. the blueprints stacked there caught her attention—clean lines, precise calculations, a world that felt miles away from hers.

“you gonna tell me what you want, or are we just standing here all night?”

her eyes snapped back to his, the sharpness in his tone cutting through the haze of her thoughts. “got anything that’ll knock me out for a few hours?”

he raised an eyebrow, walking past her to the desk. he opened a drawer, rummaging around before pulling out a small baggie with a single edible inside. “low-dose,” he said, holding it up. “won’t knock you out, but it’ll take the edge off.”

YN hesitated, glancing between him and the baggie. “how much?”

harry shook his head, tossing it onto the counter. “on the house.”

“i’m not—”

“just take it,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “call it a favor. or a bribe. whatever makes you feel better.”

she stepped closer, picking up the baggie with careful fingers. her eyes flicked to his, searching for something she wasn’t sure she’d find. “thanks.” she muttered, her voice quieter now.

harry leaned against the edge of the counter, his arms crossed. “you look like shit, by the way.”

she huffed, shoving the baggie into her hoodie pocket. “and you’re still a dick.” she shot back, heading for the door.

“fair enough.” he muttered. but just as she reached for the handle, his voice stopped her. “hey, cinnamon.”

she turned, her brow furrowed. “what?”

harry’s smirk softened slightly, the easy confidence in his tone faltering just enough to feel real. “you ever wanna talk, you know where i live.”

YN didn’t respond, didn’t trust herself to. she just nodded once and slipped out the door, her footsteps fading down the hall.

the next day, it was closer to four pm when YN got home from work.

she barely noticed the faint buzz of her roommate’s call as she slipped into the bathroom, peeling off her scrubs and stepping under the hot spray of the shower. the water hit her like a reset button, the ache in her shoulders easing as the steam curled around her.

when she finally emerged, her hair damp and loose, she threw on a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized sweater—something warm, something safe. the apartment was quiet now, her roommate having left a while ago, probably off to see her boyfriend.

it was around six when the knock came.

YN glanced up from her laptop, her brows furrowing. she wasn’t expecting anyone. she hesitated for a second, debating if she even wanted to answer, but curiosity won out.

when she opened the door, harry was leaning against the frame, his usual smirk softened into something more uncertain. he looked like he’d been pacing before this, his curls slightly disheveled, his hoodie hanging loose over a pair of black sweatpants.

“hey.”

YN raised an eyebrow. “hey.”

“you any good at chem?”

she blinked, “chemistry?”

he nodded, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “yeah. like, the basics. stoichiometry, balancing equations, all that shit.”

she tilted her head, leaning against the doorframe to mirror him. “i passed it with like an 85% so, i guess?”

he smiled, “fantastic. y’busy right now?”

“why?”

“thought maybe you could help me out. i’ve got a test coming up, and i’m…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely. “not great at it.”

“you want me to tutor you?”

he beamed, sarcastic, knowing. “sweet of you t’offer. let’s go.”

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. she sighed, pushing off the doorframe. “fine. but if i’m doing this, we’re going to the library. your apartment smells like weed, and i can’t think in there.”

he chuckled, stepping back as she grabbed her bag from the couch. “fair enough, cinnamon.”

the campus library wasn’t crowded, the usual sunday night stragglers scattered across the tables in hushed clusters. harry led her to a table in the back, far from the main entrance, where the buzz of conversation faded into the quiet hum of fluorescent lights.

he dropped his backpack onto the table, pulling out a battered notebook and a copy of the textbook that looked like it had been through hell. “alright, professor,” he said, smirking as he slid into the chair across from her. “teach me.”

“this is gonna be painful, isn’t it?”

harry grinned, flipping open the textbook. “probably.”

she sighed, leaning forward. “okay, first question—how the hell did you even make it to college if you don’t know the basics?”

harry shrugged, unbothered. “charm and good looks.”

she groaned, dropping her pen onto the table. “you’re gonna fail.”

“no,” he drawled with a smile, “that’s why you’re here.”

despite herself, YN smiled, shaking her head as she reached for the textbook. “alright, let’s see what we can do.”

the first twenty minutes were pure pain.

she flipped through harry’s beat-up textbook, squinting at the faint pencil notes scrawled in the margins. “alright,” she muttered, tapping her pen against the page. “let’s start with balancing equations. that’s pretty straightforward.”

harry slouched in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers like he was bored out of his mind already. (and he was. if he was honest, he didn’t need help with chem at all). “straightforward for you, maybe. i’m just here trying not to flunk out.”

she furrowed her eyebrows, shooting him a look. “you’re not gonna flunk out. you just need to—” she hesitated, searching for the right word. “try.”

“i’m trying right now. see? look at all this effort.” he gestured toward the open book in front of him.

she sighed, leaning across the table and grabbing the pen out of his hand. “no. this is you sitting there, being useless. pay attention, harry.”

“yes, ma’am.” he mumbled, sitting up slightly straighter. his voice carried the faintest edge of mockery, but he kept his eyes on her, watching as she wrote out a problem on a fresh sheet of paper.

after another ten minutes of stumbling through coefficients, YN thought she saw a flicker of understanding cross harry’s face. he pointed at the page. “so you just make the numbers match? like, both sides need the same amount of atoms?”

YN stared at him, deadpan. “yes. that’s literally it.”

he leaned back, running a hand through his curls. “jesus. why the hell does it sound so much harder in class?”

“because you don’t listen in class,” she laughed, “and i’m guessing you don’t read the textbook either.”

he grinned, leaning forward again. “why would i, when you’re clearly better at explaining it?”

she rolled her eyes, turning the page in the book. “charm and good looks only get you so far, harry. you’re gonna have to put some actual work into this.”

“oh, so you do think i’m charming.”

YN didn’t dignify that with a response. instead, she handed him the pen and pointed to the next problem. “solve it. no shortcuts, no guesses. i wanna see the work.”

he groaned but did as he was told, his brow furrowed as he scribbled on the page.

by the time the clock struck eight thirty, they’d managed to get through most of the chapter. YN had to admit—he wasn’t completely hopeless.

and all he could do was smile—she bought it. if engineering didn’t work out, he thought, maybe he could be an actor. or a pathological liar.

“see?” she said, leaning back in her chair. “you’re not terrible at this. just lazy.”

harry huffed a laugh, closing the textbook with a loud thud. “lazy? you wound me, cinnamon.”

“you’ll live. anyway, i think we’re done for tonight. unless you wanna keep going?”

they walked out of the library together, the crisp night air hitting them like a wall. the campus was quiet now, most of the students holed up in their dorms or off at whatever weekend plans they’d made.

as they reached the edge of the quad, he glanced at her. “thanks for helping me out.”

she shrugged, her hands tucked into her hoodie pocket. “no big deal. just don’t make it a habit.”

“what if i do?”

YN shot him a look, her brow furrowing slightly. “then you’re buying the coffee next time.”

harry chuckled, the sound low and warm in the cold air. “deal.”

they reached the entrance, and YN hesitated for a moment before heading inside. “night, harry.”

“night, cinnamon.”

as the door clicked shut behind her, harry lingered on the steps for a moment, lighting a cigarette.

he smiled to himself again, he couldn’t help it. he was proficient in math, one of his best subjects—bordering the edge of genius, basically. but she didn’t need to know that, not when he just stole a couple hours from her, not when it was the perfect excuse just to hang out with her.

it was wednesday when she next saw him.

the clock on YN’s laptop read 11:03 pm, the harsh blue light illuminating her tired eyes as she highlighted yet another passage in the dense textbook sprawled across her lap. the apartment was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle from her roommate’s room and the faint hum of traffic filtering in through the drafty window.

she hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch in over an hour, legs curled under her, a growing pile of sticky notes cluttering the coffee table. her focus was razor-sharp, though her back ached from the awkward position she’d settled into.

when the knock came, she didn’t flinch. didn’t even glance toward the door. she knew exactly who it was.

with a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips, she set her laptop down carefully, nudging it closer to the stack of notes as she rose from the couch. her socked feet padded softly across the floor, her hand instinctively reaching for the lock. she swung the door open and leaned against the frame, her shoulder pressed into the wood as she tilted her head to the side.

“cinnamonnnn,” harry drawled, his voice almost melodic, the nickname rolling off his tongue like it had been hers all her life.

he stood there in a slightly oversized sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pair of gray sweatpants that were smaller than the ones from the other day—joggers maybe. a green packers beanie was snug over his curls, though a few stray strands peeked out, curling against his forehead. his hands were stuffed deep in his pockets, and he rocked back on his heels like he had all the time in the world.

YN narrowed her eyes slightly, the faintest smile ghosting her lips. “harryyyy,” she mimicked, dragging out his name in the same exaggerated tone.

“you busy?”

yes. “no.”

his dimples deepened as his grin grew wider, like he knew she’d lie. “hang out with me for a bit then.”

she let out a quiet laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “to do what? it’s almost midnight.”

“come walk with me.”

her lips parted slightly, a soft exhale escaping as she gave him a hesitant look. he didn’t push, just waited, the silence between them comfortable, expectant. “you’re such a bad influence,” she muttered, shaking her head as she turned back into the apartment.

“oh, yeah,” harry said, stepping forward to catch the door before it closed. “terrible.”

she tugged a sweater over her head, the fabric swallowing her as she slipped her feet into an old pair of sneakers. they were loose, the kind she could slip on without bothering with laces.

when she stepped past him, harry held the door open before letting it fall shut behind them as they ambled into the narrow hallway.

“where are we going?” YN asked as they descended the stairs, the cool air of the building’s lobby settling around them.

“you’ll see.”

she huffed, though the corners of her mouth tugged upward as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. he moved like the world waited for him, unhurried but purposeful, his long legs carrying him down the steps in easy strides.

when they pushed through the front door and into the night, the cold air hit her immediately, making her shiver as she stuffed her hands into her pockets.

their path wound deeper into campus—the air quiet, save for the rustling of dead leaves underfoot and the occasional distant honk of a car. the faint glow of streetlights filtered through the thinning trees, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.

harry walked slightly ahead, shoulders hunched against the cool air. she walked beside him, somewhat, perhaps a step behind, though the edge of her elbow would brush against his arm every so often. it wasn’t an accident, not really.

their breaths puffed out in white clouds, swirling in the breeze before disappearing. the last of the dead leaves fell from the trees with a soft crackle, catching in the wind before tumbling to the ground.

his pace slowed slightly, letting her match him, and he nudged her with his shoulder—just enough to jostle her. she looked up, her brow furrowing as she glanced at him.

“what was that for?”

he smirked, his gaze flicking ahead. “thought you were fallin’ asleep over there.”

she rolled her eyes but let her shoulder bump into his lightly as they walked. “sure. ‘cause nothing screams excitement like following you into the middle of nowhere.”

he let out a low chuckle, his breath visible in the cold air. “you’re dramatic, you know that?”

“you didn’t answer the question earlier.”

“what question?”

“about where we’re going,” she said, her voice teasing. “you could be leading me astray so you can murder me without any witnesses.”

he turned his head to look at her, his brows lifting, “i did answer, you just didn’t accept it.” he paused, pursing his lips as if he was in thought. “it would be a good plan, though. quiet enough out here. no one’d hear a thing.”

she snorted, her steps faltering slightly as she tried not to laugh. “you’re a terrible murderer. you’d leave a trail of evidence a mile wide.”

“would not.”

“would too.”

he turned to her fully now, his eyes narrowing as he stepped backward in front of her. his hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his pace matching hers even as he walked in reverse.

“alright, then,” he said, his voice laced with mock seriousness. “if i were to murder you—and that’s a big if, by the way—how exactly would i screw it up?”

she bit back a smile, “well, for starters, you’d forget to hide the body properly. probably just leave me in the middle of the path, thinking no one would notice.”

he let out a soft laugh, his shoulders shaking as he shook his head. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it?” YN countered, raising a brow. “you’re the one who thinks this is a good place to kill someone.”

his grin widened, the faintest dimple appearing in his cheek. “you’re paranoid, cinnamon. that’s your problem.”

“and you’re too cocky. that’s yours.”

they fell into a rhythm again, walking side by side as the breeze picked up, carrying with it the faint scent of city streets and damp leaves. their arms brushed again, neither of them pulling away, the warmth of the contact lingering longer than it should.

harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the smirk on his lips softening slightly. “for the record,” he said, his voice quieter now, “i know exactly where i’m going.”

she smiled, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. “good,” she said lightly. “cause i’d hate to have to come back and haunt you if you got me lost.”

their steps grew softer as the buildings behind them thinned out, replaced by clusters of trees swaying in the light breeze. the path curved slightly, the faint hum of traffic fading into the distance.

he walked slightly ahead, his head turning now and then to glance at the towering oaks that lined their path. the trees began to part, revealing the outline of icahn stadium in the near distance. the track and field stretched wide beneath the faint glow of a single overhead light, casting long shadows across the ground. the bleachers stood tall and imposing, their sea of blue seats reaching into the sky like a wave frozen in time.

harry slowed to a stop as they approached, the chain-link fence surrounding the stadium standing between them and the field. he didn’t guide her toward the gate, knowing it would be locked after hours. instead, he stepped closer to the fence, pulling his hand out of his pocket and giving one of the links an experimental tug.

she watched him, her brow furrowing slightly. “if you think we’re going on a run,” she said, her voice flat, “you’ve completely lost it.”

he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as his fingers curled around the chain link. he glanced at her over his shoulder, “shut up and c’mere, cinnamon.”

YN hesitated for half a second, then stepped forward, the grass folding beneath her sneakers. the light breeze brushed against her skin, carrying the faint scent of earth and damp metal. he stepped back slightly, giving her room as she reached for the fence. without waiting for further instruction, she started to climb, her hands gripping the cold metal tightly as she hauled herself upward.

he watched her movements closely, his hands hovering near her hips in case she wobbled. “i got you,” he muttered, his voice soft enough to blend with the wind.

she didn’t respond, focusing instead on the rhythmic pull of her arms as she reached the top of the fence. for a moment, she perched there, the view of the stadium stretching out before her, before swinging one leg over and carefully lowering herself to the other side.

harry gave the fence one last tug, then started climbing after her. his movements were quick and efficient, as though he’d done this a hundred times before. his sleeve bunched at his elbows as he reached the top, pausing briefly to glance down at her. “how’s the weather down there?”

she glanced up, brushing her hands off on her pants. “you’d better not fall. i’m not catching you.”

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he swung over the top and landed easily on the grass beside her. “wasn’t planning on it,” he breathed, brushing his hands off before shoving them back into his pockets.

they stood there for a moment, the quiet of the field settling around them like a blanket. the overhead light flickered slightly, casting their shadows long and thin against the ground.

she stared at him for a moment, then sighed, shaking her head as she followed him. “you’ve got way too much energy for this late at night.”

“and you were too stubborn t’say no.” harry shot back as he walked ahead, his steps light against the rubber surface. “used to hate running, y’know,” he breathed, glancing at YN as he spun around. he walked backward with an ease that made her slightly nervous, like he’d trip over himself any second but never actually would. “hated everything about it—your legs aching, your chest burnin’, that horrible feeling in your throat after.”

she caught up, her pace steady as she smiled faintly, her breath visible in the cool air. “now it’s your thing.”

he paused for a split second, his eyes catching hers in that unreadable way of his. then, to her surprise, he smiled. “yeah,” he nodded slightly. “now it’s my thing.”

the bleachers loomed ahead, their steel frame groaning faintly in the wind. harry reached them first, stepping aside to let her go up. “go on,” he muttered, gesturing upward with a nod. “all the way to the top.”

“what, you’re not going to race me?”

he smiled, his hand brushing against the cold metal railing. “wouldn’t be fair. your legs are shorter than mine.”

she narrowed her eyes but couldn’t help the faint laugh that slipped out. “wow. okay. guess i’ll just take my time then.”

she started up the concrete steps, her hands gripping the railings on either side. the cold bit at her palms, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of her feet against the uneven surface.

harry followed a few steps behind, his stride naturally longer than hers. “this is painful t’watch,” he drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “are you always this slow, or is it just for me?”

YN stopped abruptly, her hands tightening around the railings as she shifted her weight. her hips jutted out slightly, throwing him off balance as he climbed.

he cursed under his breath, his hands instinctively reaching out to steady himself. his fingers found her hips, his grip firm but fleeting, as though he realized too late what he’d done. “jesus,” he muttered, pulling back as quickly as he’d touched her. “bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

she turned her head just enough to catch the faint flush creeping up his neck. she smirked, leaning her weight into the railing. “sorry—shorter legs and all.”

harry just blinked before the corner of his mouth twitched. he stepped back, his expression a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement. “you’re a child.”

she laughed softly, turning back to the stairs and continuing her climb. “yeah,” she called over her shoulder, her voice teasing. “but you’re still following me.”

they climbed higher, the steps echoing faintly beneath their feet, but harry's pace started to falter again—restlessness bleeding into his movements. "oh, for god's sake," he laughed, his patience snapping like a brittle thread. his fingers drummed against the railing briefly before he stopped altogether, grasping onto her wrist.

his grin was lopsided, dimples flashing as he let go of her hand and flung himself past her, his long legs taking the steps two at a time as he rushed toward the top. only a second and a half later, she met him up there, finding him standing there with a proud grin, his hands resting on his hips like he'd just conquered something monumental.

“impatience isn’t a virtue, by the way.”

he kept his smile, his dimples cutting deep as he lifted his hand in front of her face, palm out. his fingers wiggled dramatically, “talk to the hand, sista."

she paused, staring at him like she wasn't sure whether to laugh or push him off the railing. her expression cracked first, laughter spilling out before she could stop it. she swatted his hand away from her face as they leaned into each other, his own giggles breaking free in a low, rumbling sound that shook through him.

their laughter folded into each other, her shoulder pressing lightly into his chest as she tried to steady herself, his larger frame giving way slightly under the weight of their shared amusement.

harry’s laughter softened as he reached up, his fingers tugging at the edge of his packers beanie. his curls bounced free as he pulled it off, the cold air nipping at his now-exposed hair. without a word, he stretched his arm around her, carefully plopping the hat onto her head.

“what are you doing?” she asked, her voice laced with with something delicate as she adjusted it, the oversized beanie swallowing her hair and tilting slightly to one side.

“you looked cold,” he said, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal. his fingers lingered at the edge of the beanie for just a second before he gave her forehead a gentle push with the flat of his palm.

it wasn’t hard—just enough to tip her head backward a little, like an afterthought, his grin barely contained as she blinked up at him.

“seriously?” YN smiled, tilting her head forward again, a faint laugh escaping as she fixed the hat and gave him a mock glare.

he didn’t reply, already stepping to his left with an exaggerated flourish, gesturing toward the narrow row of faded blue seats that stretched across the top of the bleachers. “c’mon.”

he slid into one of the seats first, his long legs folding awkwardly into the tight space as he leaned back and let out a contented sigh. he patted the seat beside him without looking at her.

she hesitated for a beat, brushing her hair out of her face before following him into the row. the cold metal of the seat pressed through her sweats as she sat down beside him, her knees brushing against his for just a second as she settled.

she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. harry’s beanie slipped forward slightly, brushing against her eyebrows, but she didn’t bother adjusting it. instead, she rested her chin on her knees, her gaze drifting across the empty field below as the wind whistled faintly through the bleachers.

he shifted beside her, digging into the pocket of his sweats. his movements were easy as he pulled out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lime green lighter. sliding a cigarette between his lips, he leaned back, flicking the lighter once, twice

nothing.

his fingers were stiff from the cold, the wind catching the flame before it had a chance to hold. he tried again, his brows furrowing slightly as he muttered something under his breath.

YN turned her head, watching him with quiet curiosity. “you good over there?”

harry’s lips quirked around the cigarette. “just peachy,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he tried one more time.

without a word, she reached over, her fingers brushing against his as she took the lighter from him. “hold still,” she murmured, leaning sideways as she cupped her hand over the cigarette perched between his lips, shielding it from the breeze.

her movements were practiced, easy, like she’d done this a hundred times before. she flicked the lighter once, and the small flame sprang to life, steady this time. she lit the end of the cigarette, her hand still shielding it from the wind as she glanced up at him. “there.”

harry took a drag, the ember glowing softly in the dim light, and exhaled a thin stream of smoke. his gaze flicked to her, an unreadable expression crossing his face before his lips tilted into a small, lopsided grin.

she shifted back into her seat and pulled the beanie lower over her ears, her chin finding its place against her knees again. they sat in the quiet for a while, the whispers of the wind weaving around them, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or harry’s exhales.

she looked him over, the way his curls danced around his face, the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette, how the ember’s reflection flickered in his eyes. she bit the inside of her cheek before she muttered softly, almost to herself, “you’re british.”

he let out a breathy chuckle, the sound slipping through his nose as he took another pull from the cigarette. he sighed slowly, the smoke curling up into the cold night air before he turned his head toward her, his smirk faint but amused. “good eye, sherlock.”

she kissed her teeth, rolling her eyes as she prepared to retort, her lips parting—

but harry cut her off before she could. “—cheshire,” he breathed, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that caught her off guard, soft and lilting. “born there, anyway. mum moved me and my sister here when i was thirteen.”

“for a job or..?”

he nodded, the glow of the cigarette tip briefly lighting his features as he took another drag. “she got an offer she couldn’t turn down. packed us up, left everything behind. started over.”

YN tilted her head slightly, watching the way his gaze lingered on the field below, distant but steady. “must’ve been hard.”

he shrugged, “it was… weird. missing home, trying t’fit in here. but she did what she had to do. mum’s always been good at that—doing what has to be done.”

there was a warmth in his voice, a quiet admiration that made her chest tighten. she didn’t push for more, sensing that he’d already said more than he usually would. “your accent is starting to fade,” she said instead, her lips curving into a small smile.

he smiled faintly, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “guess so. comes back strong when i’m drunk, though.”

she laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned her eyes back to the field.

he shifted slightly in his seat, his arm brushing hers as he glanced over, his cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers. “what about you?”

she blinked, turning her head toward him. “me?”

“yes, you. where’s home?”

she hesitated for a moment, “about an hour north,” she mumbled, her voice carrying the faintest edge of something wistful. “right on the border between here and connecticut.”

he nodded, leaning back slightly as he tilted his head toward her. “family?”

YN huffed a quiet breath, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “brother’s in the army. mom and dad work all the time. and i’m just here.”

his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes studying her for a moment, thoughtful and quiet. “just here?”

she shrugged, hugging her knees closer to her chest as she rested her chin on them again. “yeah. they’re busy, you know? always have been. it’s not bad or anything, it’s just… how it is.”

harry didn’t respond right away, the glow of his cigarette catching the faint flicker of emotion in his gaze. “you don’t go home much, then.”

“no. they’re fine without me. and i’ve got everything i need here. school, this place… the occasional packers beanie to keep me warm.”

he chuckled gently at that, the sound low and warm as he reached out to tug the edge of the beanie further down over her ears.

YN tilted her head slightly, her gaze fixed on the horizon as she broke the silence with a question that felt heavier than the moment. “ever fall in love?”

he turned to her, his brows furrowing slightly at the unexpectedness of it. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, cigarette still lit between his fingers. “once or twice.”

she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into a faint, almost knowing smile. “yeah,” she said softly. “me too. once or twice.”

his eyes lingered on her, studying the curve of her profile in the dim light. “what happened?”

“life, i guess. we grew apart, wanted different things.” she paused, her fingers idly tugging at her sleeves. “it wasn’t awful. just… wasn’t meant to be.”

he nodded slowly, his eyes drifting to the field below as he leaned back again, stretching his legs out in front of him.“same here.” he sighed. “things got complicated. fell apart before it could really go anywhere.”

YN turned to face him fully now, her cheek resting on her knees as she studied him. “do you think it’s worth it?”

“what, love?”

she nodded.

he was quiet for a beat, his features softening as he mulled over her question. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice low but certain. “for the right person.”

silence.

“—he treat you right?”

“what?”

he flicked the ash off the tip of his cigarette. “the guy you loved. did he treat you right?”

she hesitated before she nodded, check still flush against her knees. “most of the time.”

his jaw twitched at her answer, “most of the time isn’t enough, y’know?”

“think you could do better?” she teased lightly, though there was an edge of genuine curiosity in her tone.

harry turned to her then, his eyes meeting hers, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smirk. “yeah,” he said simply, taking another drag. “i know i could.”

her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t look away. instead, she lifted her chin off her knees, her lips curving into a small, sly smile. “yeah right, harry.”

“i don’t say shit i don’t mean, cinnamon. not like that.”

YN didn’t respond, just shook her head faintly as she turned her head back to the field, her chest tightening in a way she didn’t quite know how to name.

he stayed quiet too, the silence settling over them again, but this time it felt heavier, charged with something unspoken that neither of them was ready to unpack.

he let the cigarette drop to the concrete, the faint glow of its ember dying as he ground it under his sneaker. the scrape of rubber against stone was sharp in the quiet, and then he straightened, towering over YN as her gaze followed him.

“let’s go,” he mumbled, his voice even but lacking the warmth it held earlier.

something had shifted.

it was subtle—barely a flicker—but she felt it. the easy banter from earlier seemed to pull back, replaced by something quieter, something more guarded.

she didn’t question it, though. not yet.

harry gestured toward the steps, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he waited for her to stand.

she sighed softly, pulling his packers beanie tighter over her ears as she rose, the cold biting at her cheeks while she fell into step beside him as they made their way back down the bleachers.

when they reached the chain-link fence again, harry stepped forward first, gripping the metal links as he tested its sturdiness like he had before. he didn’t say anything, only nodded toward the fence as he stepped aside to let her climb.

YN rolled her eyes but moved toward it anyway, her hands curling around the cold metal as she pulled herself up. harry’s hands hovered near her hips just as they had earlier.

she glanced down briefly to meet his eyes before she swung her leg over the top and climbed down the other side.

he followed quickly, his movements smooth and quick, landing on the grass beside her with barely a sound. they fell into step together on the walk back, the cool night air nipping at exposed skin as the distant hum of traffic filled the silence.

harry’s hands stayed buried in his pockets, his head slightly lowered as his long strides matched her shorter ones.

she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, sensing the subtle shift in his demeanor. he wasn’t closed off, not entirely, but there was a distance now, like he was holding something back. "you okay?" she asked softly, her voice cutting through the silence.

"mm-hm,” he hummed, his tone even, but distant. "you?"

she nodded, even though something about his shift made her chest feel heavier. "yeah."

she didn’t press, didn’t push. instead, she let the silence stretch between them as their footsteps echoed softly against the pavement.

by the time they reached their building, the city felt quieter, the world around them settling into the stillness of the late night.

and though neither of them said a word as they split, the weight of the unspoken things between them lingered, threading itself into the space they shared.

another few days passed, and the walk back to the apartment felt lighter than usual.

YN had just said goodbye to a friend before rounding the corner to the building, her smile lingering as she adjusted the strap of her bag. it wasn’t often she felt this at ease.

but that lightness disappeared the moment she reached the stairwell.

as she climbed to their floor, her eyes landed on harry. he was standing at his door, his shoulders tense, his head down. his key trembled in his hand, the metal scraping against the lock as he missed the slot for what had to be the third time.

it was wrong. harry was steady. always steady. whether he was handing off a bag of weed or walking down the street like the world revolved around him, he had this uncanny knack for keeping his cool.

but not tonight.

she slowed her steps, her brow furrowing as she got closer. “harry?” her voice cut through the stillness, sharper than she intended.

his head snapped up. for a brief moment, she saw something raw in his eyes—panic, maybe—but it was gone as quickly as it came. his mouth twisted into a faint smile, the one he always wore like armor. “you’re back early.” his voice was rough, low, like he’d been grinding it against a wall.

she took a step closer, her eyes scanning him. “was about to say the same thing.” her gaze flicked to his hand, the one holding the key, the knuckles split and bruised.

“what happened to your hand?”

he stiffened, tucking the injured hand into his hoodie pocket. “nothing’.”

“bullshit,” she muttered, shoving her keys and phone into her pockets to free her hands. “let me see.”

he let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “don’t worry about it, cinnamon.”

the nickname barely registered; her focus stayed on him, on the tension in his shoulders, the blood crusting his knuckles. “harry,” she said, her tone firmer now. “you’re bleeding. just let me—”

“it’s fine!” he shouted, his voice cutting.

YN snapped her head back up, averting her gaze from his hidden hands, right to his eyes. his chest rose and fell, his breathing shallow and uneven. she didn’t speak, just stood there, watching the way his jaw tightened like he was trying to swallow something bitter.

he finally sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “fuck.”he mumbled, almost to himself.

she moved closer again, slower this time, her voice softer. “let me help.”

his eyes flicked to hers, guarded but not as sharp. his lips parted, like he wanted to argue, but no words came out.

inside her apartment, the air felt too still, too quiet.

harry sat stiffly at her small kitchen table, his hoodie now pushed back to reveal the messy curls tumbling over his forehead. he cradled his injured hand in his lap, his jaw set as YN dug through her cabinet for the first aid kit.

“you really don’t have to do this,” he muttered, his voice low.

“yeah, well,” she sighed, pulling the kit down with a thud. “i’m doing it anyway.”

when she sat across from him, the silence between them grew heavy. she reached for his hand, but he hesitated, his fingers curling slightly.

“harry.”

he huffed but relented, letting her take his hand in hers.

the damage was worse up close. his knuckles were split and swollen, streaks of blood staining the spaces between his fingers. she inhaled sharply, her brows knitting as she reached for the antiseptic.

“jesus,” she muttered, shaking her head. “what the hell did you do?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes fixed on the floor. when he finally spoke, his voice was flat. “ran into someone.”

she paused, the antiseptic-soaked cotton ball hovering over his knuckles. “like?”

“someone who didn’t want to pay up front.”

her stomach twisted. she pressed the cotton to his knuckles, and he hissed through his teeth, his fingers twitching under hers.

“hold still.” she murmured, her voice softer, airy.

he didn’t respond, just watched her work. her touch was careful but firm, her hands steady as she cleaned the cuts.

“you can’t keep doing this.” she said quietly, not looking up.

harry’s lips twitched, a dry laugh escaping him. “you worried about me?”

YN shot him a look, her expression somewhere between annoyance and concern. “maybe, harry. you ever think about that?”

his smile faded, and for a moment, his eyes softened—just a fraction, but enough for her to notice. “it’s nothing.”

“it’s not nothing.’” she countered, wrapping a clean bandage around his hand. “you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“maybe.” he whispered, watching her tie off the bandage.

“and you’re okay with that?”

his gaze flicked up to hers, and for a moment, something vulnerable passed between them—something unspoken but heavy. “depends on the day.”

she swallowed hard, her fingers lingering on the edge of the bandage before she leaned back.

“you’re an idiot.” she grumbled, standing to put the kit back in its place.

he grinned faintly, flexing his fingers against the bandage. “yeah, but you’re still patchin’ me up, aren’t you?”

she glanced over her shoulder, her lips pressing into a thin line. “someone has to.”

he stood, his frame filling the small kitchen as he neared the door.

“harry?”

he glanced back, his eyes soft as he looked at her expectantly.

“please be careful.”

his jaw clenched before he managed a tight nod, and then the door clicked shut behind him, leaving YN alone in the silence, the weight of his words—and his presence—lingering in the air.

it was thursday again, and the walk back from their evening lecture became an unspoken agreement.

it wasn’t something they talked about—there were no texts exchanged or plans made. but every tuesday and thursday, as the evening classes let out, they’d meet by the lecture hall’s exit. sometimes harry would already be there, leaning against the wall, pretending he wasn’t waiting. other times, YN would hang back near the doors, scrolling through her phone until she saw him.

tonight was no different.

harry was already outside when she came out of her bio lab, her bag slung over her shoulder and her hair a little messy from tying and retying it during the experiment. he fell into step beside her as they turned toward home, his bandaged hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, his backpack slung low over one shoulder.

“that bad?” he asked, glancing at her as she adjusted her strap.

she sighed, shaking her head. “some idiot forgot to label their samples, so the whole lab got an extra hour of let’s go over the basics again.”

harry chuckled, the sound low and warm. “you lot are a buncha losers, huh?”

“says the guy who’s probably failing chem,” she shot back, grinning.

he shrugged, unbothered—simply because it wasn’t true. “aggressively coasting.” he corrected.

what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

she rolled her eyes, giggling despite herself. the conversation drifted, easy and familiar, as they made their way through campus.

it was when they turned onto the last block before their building that harry stopped.

she noticed it immediately—the way his body went still, his eyes narrowing as they flicked to the other side of the street.

a man stood there, leaning against a lamppost, his hands shoved into the pockets of a heavy coat. he wasn’t doing anything—not technically—but there was something about the way he stared at the building’s exit that set harry on edge.

“go inside.”

she frowned, looking at him. “what?”

harry’s jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving the man across the street. “just go inside, YN.”

her confusion deepened as she followed his gaze. “harry, what’s going on?”

he turned to her then, his expression sharper than she’d ever seen it. “i said go the fuck inside.” he snapped, his voice low, biting—the words cutting through the cool evening air like glass.

she flinched, her eyes widening slightly. but before she could say anything, harry was already crossing the street, his shoulders squared and his hands shoved into his pockets.

she stayed where she was, her heart racing as she watched the scene unfold.

harry approached the man with a deliberate calm, his posture loose but his movements sharp. she couldn’t hear the first thing he said, but the man straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing as he looked harry up and down.

the conversation wasn’t loud, but it was tense—harry’s voice low, steady, while the man’s tone was sharper, more aggressive.

she could only catch snippets.

the man stepped closer, his hands twitching at his sides, and for a moment, YN thought it was going to escalate. but harry didn’t flinch. he held his ground, his voice even as he spoke again.

finally, the man pulled something from his pocket—a small bag, crumpled and poorly sealed—and shoved it into harry’s hand. he gave him a look, muttering something under his breath before turning on his heel.

he crossed the street, his shoulders tense, his face hard as stone. when he reached YN, he brushed past her—his shoulder catching hers, a silent signal that screamed follow me.

she hesitated, but only for a second before trailing after him. he didn’t look back as he pushed through the front door of their building, letting it slam shut behind them.

the silence between them stretched thin as they climbed the stairs, harry taking them two at a time, YN struggling to keep up with his longer stride.

“harry,” she started, her breath slightly uneven, “what the hell just happened?”

he didn’t answer, his hand gripping the stairwell railing tightly enough that his knuckles whitened.

“don’t ignore me,” she pressed, her voice sharper now. “who was that guy? why were you acting like—”

“drop it, YN.” he muttered, his voice sharp and clipped, but she wasn’t having it.

“no, i’m not dropping it!” she snapped, her tone cutting through the empty stairwell. “you don’t get to just walk away from this without explaining. i saw the way you looked at him. you knew him, didn’t you?”

he reached their floor and stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall, his back still to her.

“you knew he was trouble the second you saw him,” she continued, stepping closer. “so tell me why, harry. what’s going on—are you okay?”

he turned then, spinning on his heel so fast that she nearly bumped into him. his eyes were clouded, sharp, and for a moment, the force of his glare made her breath catch. “s’not your fucking concern, YN.” he spat, his voice cold and low, each word biting like frost. “it’s not like we’re friends. so just fucking stop.”

she froze mid-sentence, her jaw slack as the words sank in.

harry’s breathing was uneven, his hands balled into fists at his sides, but he didn’t look away.

she closed her mouth, her lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes stayed locked on his. after a long pause, she gave a single, curt nod. “got it.”

her voice was quiet but sharp, like the edge of a knife.

she stepped around him, her gaze never wavering as she turned toward her unit. the weight of her presence lingered, heavy and unforgiving, even as she unlocked her door and disappeared inside.

he stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway. his chest felt tight, his fists still clenched, but he didn’t move. he didn’t look for her.

because if he had, he would’ve followed her. and he wasn’t sure what he’d say—or if it would even make a difference.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles concept #harry styles au #college!harry #frat boy harry #fratrry #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles series

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harrywavycurly · 6 days ago

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Hello my babes!! I have a few things I’m working on at the moment but was just seeing which one of these y’all would like to see first? And by first I mean posted on Friday! ✨

I’ve got a few people wanting more of Mafia/Sopranos Harry, I have part 1 of a mini series about frat Harry working as a mover aka College Hunks and then a happy ending part 2 for the bff!harry so just let me know which one you’d like first!💖

Have no clue what I’m talking about? No problem!

Mafia/Sopranos you can find here✨

The concept for college hunks can be found here✨

Bestfriend Harry who’s in love with you is right here✨

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #mafia!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #my little lanky baby #harry styles #harry styles mafia au #fratrry #frat!harry #college hunks hauling junk #friends to lovers

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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The Arrangement | "Like this, Daddy?"

Based on reader requests - was unable to find the original request but I know a lot of y'all really wanted this one. Enjoy!

Summary: Harry wants to make a cute video of Y/n stripping for him but it quickly turns into a sex tape.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, sex tape stuff

The Arrangement Masterlist

“Want to make a little video of you. How’s that sound?” Harry said as Y/n looked down at the pretty lacy nighty set he’d just gifted her. She was used to him buying her things but this little gift with silk and lace and bows was super sexy and feminine and exactly something she’d love to have.

Looking up at him with rounded eyes she smiled, “Anything you want, Daddy. Is this for the video?” She asked as she lifted the lingerie upward.

Harry brushed his fingers over the material and nodded, “If you want. You’ll be the star so you can decide what you’d like to wear or not wear.”

Looking over the delicate fabric she nodded and bit her lip, “I’ll go change. I really like this. Think it’ll be really pretty for a video.”

It was stunning. When she slid it up her hips and tucked her breasts into the flimsy lace she looked at herself in the mirror and grinned. It really was lovely. She imagined that the lingerie was very expensive. Nothing she could ever afford. But of course, nothing Harry bought her was in her price range.

The moment she walked into the bedroom, dawning the sexy lacy set and a pair of sleek black heels, Harry already had his cellphone recording and the lights dimmed. He was sitting on a chair with his legs spread and watching her as she stepped in closer.

She’d never done anything like it before. Being recorded was nerve-wracking. She wasn’t sure how to act or what to do as she stopped and stood just feet from her lover.

“What should I do?” She asked shyly as she brushed her hands over her sides and looked down at herself.

“Show Daddy how you touch yourself, baby. Use that chair next to you if you want to sit or bend yourself over it. Show me what a good girl does for her daddy.”

Harry was already aching for her. He’d been gone at work all day and had missed her. The vintage lingerie set that he bought her last week finally came in that afternoon and seeing it hidden away in the box under his desk had him imagining what she might look like in it all day. But what he imagined hadn’t even been close to reality. The way it fit over her curves made it look like it’d been tailored for her. Her breasts were held in as the lace softly stretched over her skin and her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. Tiny bows on either hip that dangled silk over her smooth skin. She looked edible.

She smiled and rubbed her hands over her breasts first. She felt her soft tits under the fabric and pressed her nipples through the lace to get them hard as she watched Harry. Moving her hips a little she laughed in embarrassment at herself as she lowered her hands over her stomach and to her hips. She felt silly. She wasn’t a good dancer in any setting but trying to do some sort of strip dance while being recorded? In front of Harry?

Harry had a serious expression on his face though as he turned on a sexy song for her to dance to, “You’re doing so well, baby. Look at how pretty you are for Daddy. Like a little present with lace on top and little bows on your hips. Keep going, honey.”

The music gave her something to move to so she swayed her hips a little more as she continued feeling the fabric under her palms. She kept her eyes on Harry’s, wanting him to give her cues but he was silent as he watched her. She decided to lift her arms upward and spin. She spun slowly and kept her neck turned so she could see Harry and when she saw him lick his lips and his eyes drag down her frame to her hips and her waist she felt like that was a good sign.

She bent herself down, slowly pushing her bottom out and lowering her hands to her ankles before attempting to sensually pull herself upright again. Her rhythm had never been great but she was doing her best to move to the slow and sexy beat.

Placing her hands on the chair she arched her back and wiggled her tush a little as Harry’s expression turned a little darker. He looked like he was getting turned on and that really had her tummy bubbling with excitement.

“You’re a natural, Y/n. So fucking gorgeous for Daddy. Keep going, baby. I wanna see you get a little nasty.”

She knew her face was hot and her ears were on fire. Her nerves were peaking but she felt like he was enjoying what he was seeing based on the way he was looking at her. And if that didn’t give it away, the bulge at his crotch was a good indicator.

She put her pointer and middle finger in her mouth, using her tongue to swipe up and down her digits as she sat down in the chair across from Harry. Spreading her legs apart she watched as he angled his cell phone toward her and she pulled her wet fingers out of her mouth, “Like this, Daddy?” She lowered her left hand down between her thighs and pressed her wetted fingers over the thin material at her crotch. She continued rocking lightly to the music as she gazed into Harry’s eyes and bit her lip.

Harry watched as she toyed with herself over the fabric of her lingerie and he was nearly bursting from his pants. He loved how sweet and shy she acted but he knew she could be absolutely filthy if she wanted to, “Bring your other hand up and play with your tits too. They look like they need some attention.” He directed.

She was thankful he told her. She preferred to be given directions and now she at least knew for sure he wanted to see her play with her breasts.

Touching the fabric over her boobs she poked one finger under the lace and brushed over her nipple as she continued circling over the fabric at her crotch with her other hand.

Harry pressed over his erection as he watched his girl do her thing. She was adorable but he could tell she was finally getting worked up, “Don’t stop touching yourself until it’s all wet. Want you to show Daddy how wet you can get.”

Y/n let out a deep breath and nodded as she continued fingering over her nipples and rubbing the warm spot between her legs.

“Daddy, want to touch it. Under this. Can I?” She poked her finger along the inside edge of her panties close to her pussy.

“Yes, baby. Pull it to the side. Let’s have a look at Daddy’s sweet little cunt.”

She pulled at the material and pushed it to the side, exposing her pussy to Harry and his camera. Spreading her legs further she leaned back and swayed her neck as she rubbed herself, “It’s getting wet for you Daddy. Just like you like.” She lifted her fingers and puffed a small laugh, “See?”

Harry groaned and undid his pants to let his cock have a bit more space. He was going to lose it. Yes, she was adorable, but she was a vixen and she knew what she was doing.

When the material of her panties was all wet and her soft panting had her chest rising and falling she began to pull at the lace over her breasts and bring her tits out, “Want you to see how hard my nipples are.”

Harry leaned forward and examined her body as her breasts bounced free from the top of the night set, “Now that your pussy’s all messy, want to see you dance a little baby. Start taking off your lingerie one piece at a time.”

Y/n moaned as she removed her hand from her pussy and stood up with a grin. Harry’s hard cock and his parted lips and dark eyes told her what she needed to know. He loved what he saw and her confidence to keep going was spurred.

The top part of the lingerie was unhooked and pulled off as she moved with the music and then she turned around so her bottom was aimed at Harry as she bent and looked over her shoulder, “Watch this Daddy.”

Harry was watching all right. That was never going to be an issue. He’d kept his eyes on her body the entire time, “Oh baby. You’re such a sweet girl with your ass in the air for Daddy like that. Can you stick your fingers inside your wet hole for me? Want to see you finger yourself like this.”

She grasped onto the chair and pulled the fabric away from her crotch again. It was soaked through. She kept her head turned so she could watch Harry as she brought her hand around her bottom and spread her legs, pushing two fingers into her pussy for the camera, “Feels good, Daddy. Wish it was your fingers inside of me.” She panted her words.

She arched her back further as she continued thrusting her fingers and keeping her eyes on Harry. The angle was perfect. Her backside was bare to him, the fabric pushed over so he could see everything, wet and puffy with her fingers stuffed into herself. Her tits swayed as she rocked herself to the beat and her high heels made her look extra slutty.

“Now turn to face the camera again. Want to see your perfect breasts.”

She pulled her hand away and stood as she turned and gyrated her hips and squeezed her tits together, “You like it, Daddy? Is it a good video?”

Harry nodded, “Very good. How would you feel about me fucking you and recording it? I promise no one will ever see it but us.” He hadn’t intended on it, but now that he had started it he figured why the hell not?

She would say yes to anything he wanted. She never questioned his decisions, “I like that if you want it. Want you to fuck me, Daddy.”

Harry groaned and let out a laugh, “In due time. Pull the rest of that off, baby. Keep your heels on, though.”

Her hips moved slowly as she pushed her fingers into the band of her bottoms and began to pull them down her legs, still attempting to keep up with the beat.

Harry stood up and held the phone out so he could capture everything, “Let’s have a little smoke, and then I’m gonna set this up and fuck you. Keep dancing baby.”

Lighting up a joint after he propped his phone up to record Y/n as she danced he took a puff and then handed it to her.

Taking it between her fingers she drew in a breath of the cannabis and continued dancing slowly wearing only her high heels. One hand she used to run over her curves, feel over her breasts, and down to her tummy while she inhaled and then blew out the smoke from her lips.

Harry took the joint from her to let her get back into the little strip tease she began doing.

“My pretty girl. Who’s girl are you baby?”

Y/n looked at Harry and ran her hands upward and swung her hips, “I’m your girl, Daddy.”

His smile and the sultry gaze had Y/n feeling quite bold so she tilted her neck from side to side with the beat then pinched her boobs together, “Mmm… look, Daddy…” her moans were soft as she thumbed over her nipples and swayed, “So pretty for you. Am I pretty for you?”

Harry swallowed and nodded, “So pretty for Daddy, that’s right.” He sat down on the chair she was dancing next to as the camera kept recording, “Can you give me a lap dance? Want to see how filthy you can be.”

Wearing only her heels she looked at the camera and then climbed over his lap, facing him. Her drippy pussy was on display for the video as she gently moved her hips and Harry kept his hands on the arms of the chair.

She arched her back and sighed as she rolled her hips and tried to stay steady over him as well as she could.

“You can put your hands on my shoulders if you want. I’ll allow it.”

She quickly lowered her hands so she could stabilize herself as she rocked and swayed to the music, “Like it, Daddy? I’m a good girl for you aren’t I?”

Harry groped at her ass and pulled her down over him, her pussy pressed against the zipper of his pants, “My good girl. Does exactly what Daddy asks of her.”

She smiled and nodded as she rolled her hips over him. She knew she was wet but as she felt Harry’s zipper under her she gasped and looked down, “Oh no, Daddy. I’m getting your pants all wet.”

Harry was barely holding it together. He was ready to destroy her, “S’okay. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it? Can be washed. You’re just a dirty girl. Can’t help it when she’s messy.”

When she felt Harry pull her in closer she felt like her body was on fire. She knew he was going to be fucking her soon. His cock was hard and his eyes and irises were nearly fully covered by his pupils, “I’m so messy sometimes, Daddy,” she said as she began to climb off his lap and settle onto the floor between his legs. Turning around to look into the camera before looking back up at Harry she hesitantly put her hands up to his zipper, “Can I pull you out? Wanna suck on you so bad.” The camera had the perfect angle of her taking him into her mouth as Harry struggled to keep his mind clear. He wanted to give her a taste but he really wanted fuck her brains out.

She took him down her throat as Harry pushed his hands into her hair and made her gurgle over him a few times before he lifted her up and stood from his spot and bent her over the chair, “Daddy needs to feel this pussy right now. Needs to fuck his little girl before he goes crazy. You did so good for me, baby.”

Harry watched the camera as he pushed himself into her tight, wet hole. She gasped and clung onto the chair as he stuffed into her, “Yesss… Daddy…”

Moans and grunts and slow, long thrusts started the scene. His sweet girl was only wearing heels as he was nearly fully clothed, his cock the only thing exposed to the camera as he started to work into her at a faster pace.

He pressed her down by the back of her neck, her face into the seat cushion of the chair with her mouth wide open. She could barely make a peep once he began to thud into her harder. The sturdy chair moved under their weight as each heavy plunge was given to her.

Harry kept one hand at her bottom, pulling her soft skin so he could watch his cock disappear into her slippery pussy over and over again. The camera was picking up the scene from the side and Harry knew his cock could be seen entering her pussy at the angle it was in. It was perfect for his own private collection.

When he spanked her bottom quickly she groaned and gasped, the first noises from her throat since he’d been inside of her and he smiled, “There you are. Wondered where your voice went. Little girl needs spankings to get her to speak up? Hm?”

She was being rocked and jolted at each of his harsh thrusts and her clit was rubbing hard over the fabric of the arm of the chair and it felt divine. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head as she gurgled and tried to respond but her body was already sending her into an orgasm.

Harry coughed out a surprised laugh as he felt her clench and spasm over his cock and he closed his eyes as she came around him. It was the best feeling in the world to have Y/n’s pussy in orgasm while he was inside of her. There was nothing like it.

He landed another palm on her bottom as she began to come down and he pulled out, lifting her up gently. He wrapped his hands around her hair and pulled her back into his chest as he spoke into her ear, “On your knees for me little girl.”

Y/n clumsily got to her knees and turned to face Harry. She was a mess with drool on her face, palm prints on her backside, messy hair, and mascara down her cheeks. A gorgeous mess.

Harry grasped her hair into a makeshift ponytail and began to pump his cock in front of her face, “Open up wide and stick out that pretty tongue.”

She looked up at him in a daze as she opened her mouth and jutted her tongue out for him. She kept her hands behind her back, knowing that’s how he liked it. She only touched when he allowed her to.

The moment his warm, pink tip settled over her tongue she licked along the parts she could reach and moaned at the taste of his precome dripping. Harry continued stroking himself off, his slit in contact with her taste buds as he groaned at the sight, “My little fuck doll. Loves having Daddy’s cock in all her holes,” He pushed himself down into her throat in one swift motion and held her down on him as he continued, “Goddamn, baby. Always take it so well. So pretty when your mouth is stuffed and throat is gagging.”

He pulled back out as she gasped and kept her mouth wide open. She kept her eyes on his and slid her tongue out to reach for his pretty cock but with the way he was holding her hair she couldn’t move her head and Harry went back to stroking himself on her tongue.

He wanted to come inside of her pussy and show the camera the creampie and how cute she was dripping with him, but he also wanted to record himself coming on her face and her tits.

He felt his balls squeeze to his body as he moaned and felt his tummy swirl as his orgasm started to unfold.

Gonna cover you in my come, baby. Fuck, so pretty…” he pumped faster as his fingers tightened in her hair and he felt his legs quiver as he finally began to release.

The first pump of his come went into her mouth before he angled himself to spurt on her face and then her neck and to her tits. Harry’s groans and the sound of his palm stroking his cock, getting come all over his shaft as he poured himself all over her pretty skin was pornographic. He knew the video would be good for later. He’d have them watch it that night as he fucked her again before bed.

“Fuck, baby! God… ffffuuu…” his words were panted as he slowly came down and gently released her hair.

His chest heaved slightly as he caught his breath and grasped her chin, angling her face upward, “Time to lick Daddy’s cock clean, baby. Go on.”

Y/n got to it immediately, swiping her tongue over his shaft and down his balls and back upward, swallowing his come and her arousal, lapping at him like he was a lollipop.

“Mmmm…” she moaned as she looked up at him with her tongue roving over his skin.

“Yeah? Tastes good sweetheart? It’s cause your pussy was there too. Like how you taste don’t you?”

Y/n nodded as Harry backed away and tucked himself into his briefs. He bent down to his cute girl with his come all over her and swiped up a glob from her tits putting his fingers up to her mouth, “Taste.”

She happily opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers, licking those clean as well. Harry sighed and grinned, “Daddy’s dirty girl.”

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