#dating app!harry
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harrywavycurly · 4 days ago
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The Almost Bumble Fumble: A Harry Styles One Shot
CW: None
Tag List: @georgiarose94
A/N: This is just some fun fluffy goodness that popped into my head the other day! I have a part 2 in mind if y’all want it? Enjoy!
Summary: Harry Styles shows up on your dating app and you’re convinced it’s not really him✨
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Harry only has one reason why he finally caved and downloaded the bright yellow dating app, he likes the fact he can’t be the one to message anyone he matches with first. It takes some of the pressure off of him because it’s hard to think of an opening line that is catchy and engaging enough to actually make the other person respond, and while he may be a talented songwriter he is absolutely horrible at trying to be witty and flirty through a screen and over texts. So not having to worry about reaching out first allows him to just sit and wait to see if anyone is actually interested enough in him to send him a message and so far, much to his disappointment and only a slight blow to his ego he hasn’t gotten more than a few random hellos.
Even though he hasn’t gotten the kind of response he thought he would since he downloaded the app just a few days ago, he still finds himself checking it a few times a day and that’s exactly what he’s doing now as he gets comfortable on his couch with a glass of wine in his hand. He scrolls through a few profiles and doesn’t swipe right or hit the heart button on any of them until he lands on one that seems interesting. Your profile picture is of you grinning as you stare at a piece of what he thinks is cake that’s on a plate in front of you that has a candle in it, there’s a little caption under it that says “if you can make me smile the way this cake did, you’re a keeper” and he chuckles to himself as he continues further down your profile. The most important thing he likes to look at on people’s profile is what they’re looking for on the app, because Harry knows he’s ready for a relationship and he isn’t trying to have his time wasted nor waste anyone else’s if he knows they aren’t looking for the same thing in the end.
He feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth when he sees your response to that prompt if the exact same as his, looking for something long term. Harry takes a sip of his wine as he looks through the photos you posted on your profile, enjoying the tiny look at what you do for fun since you have a few photos at concerts and other events such as the classic group photo during a girls night out but the one that sticks with Harry the most is of you sitting on a couch with a glass of wine and a book in your hand that someone took while you weren’t looking or at least that’s how it appears. When he reaches the end of your profile he doesn’t give himself a moment to overthink it he simply swipes right and continues on his scroll through the app trying not to get too anxious as he waits to see if you’ll match with him and find him interesting enough to message.
After a few more minutes of scrolling he lets out a sigh before he takes a rather large sip of wine, just when he’s ready to call it a night and leave the silly little dating app he sees that he has a new message. He quirks an eyebrow as he goes to his messages and he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he sees it’s from you, meaning you have to be online now since he just swiped on you not even ten minutes ago and you’ve already sent him a message.
Now what Harry isn’t prepared for is what your message says, having only gotten the different variations of Hello so far as opening lines so when he opens your message the laugh that escapes him is genuine and he feels as if you just sent him a one liner you’d possibly use on him if you saw him at a bar and wanted to start a conversation with him. He reads the message again and shakes his head as he chuckles to himself while also feeling a bit of an inflation to his ego because your opening line is tailored to him, it’s something that you wouldn’t be able to use on just anyone. Because even if they were an obvious One Direction fan it would be very risky because they might not know the lyrics to the song and be extremely confused.
“If the room was burning, would you really not notice?”
He finds himself instantly replying and when he hits send he suddenly starts to get nervous that maybe he should’ve waited a bit to reply so he doesn’t seem too eager and possibly scare you off before he can even really get to know you. But it’s too late now, so he just sips his wine and stares at the small screen in his hand.
“Honestly I don’t think I would. My mind would be too preoccupied by someone and their ability to tell little fibs.”
When he sees a new message appear beneath his he lets out a small sigh of relief because already this is the longest conversation he’s had on this app so far.
“Right well thank goodness you’re fireproof.”
He quickly replies to you and waits with a new feeling of excitement brewing in his tummy to see what you’re going to say next. But he can’t help but wonder how long you can keep this up, he will happily play along because he doesn’t want to be the one to change the subject and possibly ruin the mood.
“Exactly. I’m also very good at finding my way through dark places as well.”
Luckily for him he doesn’t have to wait very long and your response has him laughing and he’s grateful that he lives alone so no one can walk into his living room and ask him what he’s laughing at while cuddled up in the corner of his couch.
“Oh does that mean you’re not scared of the dark? Because if you are that’s okay I won’t let anything get to you and drag you down.”
He is typing out his reply and hitting send before he can even fully lean over and put his empty wine glass down on the table.
“That’s lovely of you to say but no I’m not scared of the dark. Not even a little bit. The only thing I get a little unsettled about is how quickly the night can change.”
As Harry waits to see what you’ll say he can’t stop his mind from wondering if there’s a possibility you’re doing something similar right now, sitting comfortably on your couch or maybe in bed smiling and laughing at your phone like an idiot. Because surely it can’t just be him that’s enjoying how easy the conversation is flowing, regardless of how silly it may be.
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You read the latest message from this “Harry” person and laugh at how he goes about avoiding the exact lyrics of the song night changes, you quickly type out a reply so you don’t have to keep him waiting for too long.
“It does change fast doesn’t it? I’ve always thought it was a bit rude how everything you’re dreaming about is just is gone in the morning.”
After hitting send you reach over to your nightstand and grab your glass of wine and take a sip as you go back to visit his profile. You narrow your eyes as you bring the screen a little closer to your face as you scroll down to the few photos he’s chosen, most of which are also on his Instagram so you don’t let the thought that you’re talking to the actual Harry Styles cross your mind. Especially since a lot of the information needed to make a profile on the dating app the two of you are currently messaging on is very accessible, it’s just a simple scroll through Google. The only thing that makes you quirk a brow is one photo he has at the very end of his profile, it’s a photo of him sitting at a table with a smile on his face while holding a glass of wine and it’s one you’ve never seen before but that also doesn’t mean anything because there’s tons of photos and videos of Harry you haven’t seen.
When you saw you matched with him you couldn’t stop yourself from instantly messaging him, because even though you know it’s just someone using Harry’s photos to get attention you figure you might as well have some harmless fun. You know eventually you’ll decide to move on and maybe report his account depending on how weird he gets. You’re brought back to the moment when you see you have a new message, you take another sip of your wine as you read what he wrote.
“It’s very rude but there is something that even the night can’t change. Do you know what that is?”
You bite down on your bottom lip as you read the message and you get an odd feeling this person might be trying to flirt with you because the next line of the song he’s talking about is a rather romantic one, but then again you can’t really be sure. You take this moment to test the waters a bit as you type out your reply and hit send before you can second guess yourself and delete it.
“It’s you and I right? Because nothing can separate us?”
You know you’re going to have to casually change the subject soon but you can’t help but want to see just how long the two of you can keep indirectly quoting One Direction songs in a way that has ended up with the two of you in a rather pointless conversation. You feel your cheeks get warm when you read his reply, of course this Harry impersonator would send you lyrics to Stockholm Syndrome.
“Precisely. It’s safe to say you’ve got me tied down.”
You finish off your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand before figuring out how exactly you want to reply. There’s a few ways you could go about this, but instead of going the obvious flirty route you choose to go for the comedic approach instead because that’s more of who you are anyway.
“I mean I can’t have you trying to escape the city and follow the sun now can I? Because that would just break my heart and I don’t even know where I’d go if that happened.”
You giggle to yourself as you scroll to the top of your messages and reread them, well aware that if anyone were to read them they’d be extremely confused. You also have to admit that this person is very well educated on their One Direction lyrics and you’re a bit impressed. When you get to the bottom you see “Harry” has replied and what he says makes you lean your head back and laugh as you drop your phone into your lap as you try to get yourself under control.
“I’d never try to escape because if your heart is broken and you’re just wondering around that makes me worry people will try to steal you away from me and I can’t have that. Not to mention I also have no clue where’d you go with a broken heart and I’m honestly so shit with directions so I’d be left with no choice but to walk around shouting your name.”
After a few moments you quickly type out a response and double tap his last message letting a red heart appear next to it so he knows you really enjoyed that creative use of lyrics from two songs.
“Walking around shouting my name? Absolutely not. Don’t embarrass me.”
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Harry doesn’t even bother trying to hide his amusement at your message, enjoying how you managed to give him an easy way to go along with your subtle change of conversation since he notices a very obvious lack of song lyrics in your reply. And Harry being the romantic that he is finds this a great opportunity to ask something, and your answer will be one he might possibly tuck away in his mind to remember at a later date.
“Not one for big declarations of love then?”
As he waits for your reply Harry takes a moment to process the fact that even though the two of you haven’t even really had a true conversation he already can tell by your sense of humor that he’s going to enjoy getting to know you more, if you let him that is. When he sees your response he laughs and runs a hand through his hair with his hand that’s not holding his phone.
“I’ve never had anyone do a big declaration of love for me before so I’m not sure how I feel about them. What about you? Do you need a Jumbotron proposal during a sporting event or a billboard dedicated to how much I love your hands?”
Harry looks at his free hand and wonders if you’re being serious about loving his hands or if that’s just an example you picked to show him what you would be willing to write on a billboard about him. As he types out his reply his mind begins to think of things that could be considered big declarations of love or feelings that maybe you’d like, because even though he doesn’t know you he figures having some ideas on the back burner can’t hurt and who doesn’t like coming home to an outrageous amount of flowers or a maybe even having the radio play nothing but your favorite songs for a whole day.
“I am open to all types of declarations of love. Big, small, handwritten or painted on a billboard. I’m not picky.”
Now only part of that statement is a lie, Harry truly does enjoy any type of declaration of love that his significant other is willing to give him but he is a tiny bit picky. But that’s something to discuss at a later date, because it doesn’t really have anything to do with what the two of you are discussing now, he’s picky about other things but not how someone is willing to tell him their feelings about him. As Harry is getting up and grabbing his empty wine glass off his coffee table and heading into the kitchen he gets an odd notification at the bottom of the message thread between the two of you.
*accept video chat*
But before he can even hit accept or decline the message is gone and he sees you’ve typed out a quick little explanation.
“Oh god I’m sorry! Finger slipped and hit the video chat button! Sorry!”
He quirks a brow as he scrolls to the top of the messages and sees what looks like a FaceTime icon near the corner. Having not noticed it before he becomes curious and maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s just that he’s interested in you and thinks this is a smart way to “meet” for the first time to get a better feeling of if the two of you actually can hold a conversation or not but either way Harry is typing out a quick message and hitting send before entering his kitchen.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know it was an option, I’m fine with a video chat if you are?”
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You stare at his message for a solid thirty seconds before you even blink, not knowing why on earth this person would want to video chat with you when you know they aren’t Harry Styles. It’s going to be awkward and embarrassing, for them of course not for you because you already know you haven’t been talking to the tall tattooed international superstar but maybe this is for the best so you can tell whoever it is how impressed with their One Direction song lyric knowledge you are. And maybe, just maybe you’ll still find whoever it is attractive and it won’t be a total bummer of a Friday night. So against your better judgement you send him a simple response before you climb out of bed and head for the kitchen to refill your wine.
“Sure!”
You catch your reflection in the door of your microwave and instantly place your phone on the counter next to your fridge so you can adjust the monstrosity that is your messy bun. Once that’s as good as it’s going to get you look down at your faded band t shirt and decide that it’s good enough for whoever it is that’s about to video chat you, it’s after nine at night on a Friday after all so in your mind them seeing you like this is just preparing them for what they can expect in the future. As you’re reaching for your bottle of wine you see a new notification appear on your screen and you feel nervous as you pick your phone up.
*Accept video chat from Harry Styles*
You hit accept and the screen goes black before suddenly you’re looking at someone’s ceiling and you squint your eyes and bring the phone closer to your face as what appears to be half a forearm comes into view.
“Sorry love it seems I’ve dropped you.” You feel your heart begin to beat so fast you’re afraid it’s going to explode as a British accent comes from the phone, you swear it sounds exactly like Harry’s but you simply shake your head at that idea because there’s no way he’s on the other end of this call.
“Oh wow you sound just like-”
“I sound just like who?” Harry asks as he finally comes into view after he picks the phone up from where he accidentally dropped it on his counter while trying to open his wine bottle one handed. Your eyes go a bit wide as you move your phone away from your face, you feel your cheeks get hot and out of pure panic you place your phone against your wine bottle and put both hands over your face making Harry raise an eyebrow at you.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re Harry Styles.” You mumble into your hands but Harry hears you just fine making him chuckle as he pours some wine into his glass. “You weren’t supposed to actually be Harry Styles.” You explain as you spread your fingers allowing you to get a small look at Harry through the gaps, it’s almost unfair how much better he looks while taking up your phone screen than he does in his photos.
“Who was I supposed to be?” He questions as he grabs his phone and his wine glass and heads back into his living room.
“Some weirdo just acting like you to get attention on a dating app.” Harry doesn’t quite like that answer, he doesn’t like the idea of someone pretending to be him just to get attention and possibly hurt people in the process.
“Do people really do that? Pretend to be me on things like this?” You just shrug as you slowly lower your hands from your face and Harry is glad he’s already sitting down because even with your pink cheeks and distraught look in your still slightly wide eyes he can’t get over how pretty you are.
“I’m not sure? You’re actually the first Harry Styles I’ve ever come across but I mean I just-I didn’t think it was really you.” You admit with a laugh as you reach and grab your phone so you can get to your wine bottle, deciding you now more than ever need to refill your glass.
“Are you disappointed it’s really me and not some random weirdo?” He watches you raise an eyebrow and make a humming noise as if you really have to think about it before answering him.
“Honestly I’m relieved it’s actually you because if it wasn’t then I would’ve had to tell a random person how impressed I was with their One Direction knowledge.” You answer after you fill your glass up with wine, Harry chuckles as you make a face of disgust at the mention of telling someone you were impressed with them. “But since it’s you-”
“Oh are you saying you’re not impressed with my One Direction knowledge?” He says in mock offense as he watches you walk through what he can only assume is your kitchen based on the oven he sees in the background.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You answer without any hesitation and Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin because the look you give him is one that tells him he should’ve known that was going to be your answer.
“Well I’m quite impressed with your knowledge and your opening message was-”
“Oh god.” You say with a groan as you head into the living room, your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you take a seat on your couch making Harry give you a soft smile to try to help ease your clear embarrassment of what you sent him because he thought it was great.
“Don’t feel embarrassed love.” He quietly clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine after the petname accidentally slips out of his mouth. “I thought it was brilliant that’s why I responded and kept it going.” He explains making you smile and it’s not until this very moment do the two of you really sit and look each other in the eyes and Harry feels his own cheeks get a little warm as you stare at him through the phone.
“You’re really pretty.” Harry laughs and runs a hand through his hair as you blink a few times and realize what you just said out loud.
“You’re really pretty as well.” He says with only a small hint of nervousness evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to come across overly flirty but he also doesn’t see the harm in telling you the truth, you are very pretty.
“Thank you.” You smile and get comfortable on your couch. “I guess it’s good to get all this embarrassing and awkwardness out of the way now right?” Harry just nods and smiles at your choice of words, giving him some hope that you’ll want to maybe do this again or possibly meet up in person if you feel comfortable enough.
“Exactly.” Is all he says with a grin making you return his smile as you sink into your couch and toss a blanket over your legs to get comfortable because something tells you that you’re about to be on the phone with Harry for a while and you don’t mind. You silently thank your lucky stars that you decided to message him when you saw he matched with you because you can’t imagine the level of regret you’d feel if you somehow found out you fumbled the opportunity to talk and possibly get to know Harry just because you thought it was a fake profile.
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mo0ns-and-stars · 4 months ago
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Saw something like this on tiktok the other day and can we make a tinder but for ppl in the maurauders fandom? I feel like that would solve all my dating issues, like I don't care about what you work but wich marauder do you kin? What is your favorite ship? Your favourite moment in canon? Are we looking for a Wolfstar Jegulus or Jily kind of relationship?
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gaaaaaaaayypr · 6 months ago
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Facts lol
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tedwardremus · 5 months ago
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Regulus Black Dating Profile AU
(Regulus gets kicked off the dating app after he puts "mudbloods dni" in his bio)
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awhitewomansinstagram · 2 months ago
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I’m sure people will have mixed opinions on this and I’m actually curious as to whether people agree, but I have seen men on dating apps start to put “I voted for Kamala” or “I want you to keep your rights” in their profiles and I think it’s fucking disgusting that they’re using the fact that women are in crisis in this country to try to get dates. Men absolutely should support women’s rights. But women are going through an insane amount of grief and terror right now and to you, it’s a vulnerability to exploit to get a quick hookup. Are you kidding me?
If you’re a man reading this, SHOW us you care. Don’t tell us. I don’t care how genuine your intentions are putting that on your profile. Show us you’re safe. Don’t tell us to score a swipe. If you care about politics, choose another issue to show that. Don’t tell us that you believe in our rights so you can date us.
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keira-incognita · 4 months ago
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It still boggles my mind that people – queer and sapphic people specifically, in this case – would choose to mention their love for Harry Potter in their fucking dating app profile. I’ve seen it listed among their likes, or their Hogwarts house included in their bio, or even pictures of them in house robes.
Like, you can’t be part of the greater queer community and not know by now what’s up with Rowling. What a repugnant shit stain she is. I can give the cis hets a pass on not knowing, especially if they’re not terminally online, but for the rest of us, someone had to have told you by now.
So if someone still mentions HP in their lesbian dating app profile in fucking 2024, I’m just gonna assume you’re a TERF and swipe left. Might as well just write in your bio “No trannies.”
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chasingwhitebunnies · 2 years ago
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Imagine a dating app where you enter your fictional crushes - books, movies, shows, etc. - and it does a cross analysis of their personality types, physical descriptions, hobbies, etc. and matches you with people who best fit your type (and also who share fandoms with you)
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uptownhags · 9 months ago
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today i won my city's public service award, and it's a whole thing. next week i have a photoshoot, the week after there are events. this is EXACTLY like the ep of offspring where neens becomes The Face of St. Francis*™
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finelinefae · 4 months ago
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bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]
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synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing
word count: 8.6k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)
a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !
this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here
. . .
Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 
From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 
Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.
Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 
She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.
Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 
Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 
One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.
She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 
She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 
Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 
When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 
She read his bio beneath. 
‘Harry, 30
Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans
Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’
She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 
As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 
Harry: Hey, pretty dress
She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 
Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 
Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.
Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?
Harry: Something along those lines
Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 
Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 
She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.
Harry: I’m even more impressed
She smiled, watching him type a new message. 
Harry: What brings you here?
She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 
Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 
Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 
Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 
Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.
Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 
Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx
Harry: No problem, love x
Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 
They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.
Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx
Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.
Y/N: omg really? 
Harry: What? You don’t agree?
Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater
Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say
Y/N: You think so?
Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 
Harry: Or the little deer from that movie
Harry: What was it?
Harry: Bambi!
Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 
Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 
Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 
Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 
Y/N: Well what should I call you?
Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 
. . . 
Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 
It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 
And Bambi.
Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.
After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?
Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.
She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.
“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 
Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.
She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.
He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 
Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 
He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”
“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.
Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.
Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”
He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.
Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.
Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.
He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 
“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.
Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.
They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.
In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.
“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”
His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”
“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.
Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”
Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”
Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”
Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 
“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 
She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.
“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.
Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.
“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.
“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.
She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”
“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.
. . .
“Mr. Styles?”
Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.
“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.
Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 
Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 
Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.
He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.
When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.
But then he met his Bambi. 
He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 
Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.
For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 
He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 
Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 
He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 
“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 
He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 
He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 
Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 
“Cancel them.” He shrugged.
His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 
He glanced at his phone when a text came through.
Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx
His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.
Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x
He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 
Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.
People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 
He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 
She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 
Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.
“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.
“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”
Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.
Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?
From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.
Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.
“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.
“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.
“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”
The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”
Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”
Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.
“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.
She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.
Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 
With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 
Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”
His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.
She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 
“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 
“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.
Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.
“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”
She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”
He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 
“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.
Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.
Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”
His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”
She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”
Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”
Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”
“Come work with me,” He offered. 
There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.
“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”
“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”
He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.
Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.
A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 
. . . 
Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 
A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.
She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.
She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 
Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.
And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 
Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 
Harry: Just outside x
She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 
The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.
“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”
Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 
“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 
“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.
Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.
“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.
Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 
Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.
As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.
“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.
Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.
Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”
Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”
Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 
Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.
Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.
He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”
Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”
Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”
Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”
Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 
As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?
The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 
Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”
“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.
Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”
“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 
She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 
He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”
Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”
He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”
"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.
"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."
She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”
He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.
When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.
“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”
Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.
Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”
Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.
“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"
She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”
“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”
Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."
“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”
“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.
Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”
Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”
Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”
Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”
“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”
She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”
Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”
Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”
"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"
Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.
“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”
. . . 
Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.
The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.
He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 
“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.
Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”
She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.
“S okay,” He smiled. 
The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.
“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.
She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.
Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.
The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 
When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.
Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.
“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."
She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”
In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.
Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.
"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”
Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.
As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 
Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.
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moonchildstyles · 4 months ago
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y/n and harry broke up. he goes on a date, and y/n drives in the rain.
wordcount: 8.5k+
—————
(Y/N) knew it was hypocritical to be feeling jealous at the moment—pathetic, even. She was there that night, she knew she was the one that ended her relationship with Harry. He was single, and there was nothing wrong with him going out with another girl; he could take her to whatever restaurant he wanted, including the one that they had found together last month. 
It had only been a couple of weeks, though. And, he had been the one that wanted to try and work things out with her. Harry had been the one that was insistent that they could work through this—the miscommunications, the lack of time together, the passive aggressive arguments—, but now he was the one moving on nearly immediately. She wanted to cry that it wasn't fair, that he was supposed to still be torn up about it the same as she was. 
It wasn't as if she didn't love him anymore or was itching to get out and meet other people, she was just finding herself more unhappy than she was happy when she thought about him. He had told her that he loved her, that he wanted her—needed her—when she had sat him down, she thought neither of them would be moving on this quickly. 
But, it's fine. It's whatever. Good for him. 
Locking her phone, she placed it face down on her kitchen counter with a startling slam. She didn't double check to see if she had cracked her screen, instead stepping away from the device all together as if it wanted to sulk just as back as she. If her phone was a good friend, it would delete the Instagram app as soon as possible; there was no reason to see any more pictures of Harry and his new friend at dinner. 
Forcing her head to clear, (Y/N) padded through her apartment with the intention of cleaning up. The last weeks had left her with heartbreak brain, chores having been pushed to the wayside as she recovered. When was the last time she went grocery shopping? Had she really run out of tissues or did she have an extra stash in some closet she'd been too lazy to check? 
She shook her head, taking the pile of dirty socks to her washing machine while her mind raced with distractions. It was late, but she could go grocery shopping, at least to pick up a few essentials so she didn't order in again for the next couple of days. Seeing the world for another reason instead of work would be good for her, she thought. Even if the thought of putting on shoes that weren't slippers made her want to tear up. 
After starting up the washing machine, she trudged up the stairs towards her room. The cloudy night called for something warmer than the ratted t-shirt and frayed shorts she had on, leaving her to rifle through the collection of sweats she had tucked in her dresser. No matter the garment she pulled out of the drawer, didn't seem to be enough; not thick enough, soft enough, warm enough. Leaving the pieces in a mess in the drawer, she didn't let herself think before she was drifting to her closet where there was a too familiar hoodie hanging up. 
The smell wasn't quite as strong as it had been weeks ago, but there was still a faint scent of Harry's cologne embedded in the fibers. It was truly nothing more than a plain black hoodie, the material showing wear in the way the strings were tied into a bow at the neck with frays at the end, holes lining the sleeve hems, and a lipstick stain smeared on the back shoulder in a shade she had on her bathroom counter. Though it was his hoodie, she had stolen it enough times that it lived at her home with Harry taking it back every now and then, imprinting himself on it for her to revel in once he gave it back. 
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she knew it was a bad idea. There was no reason for her to wear that hoodie. Really, it was surprising that he hadn't asked for it back yet—especially if he was going out with other girls. 
It would be crazy for her to wear it, right? It was not normal to be mourning a relationship she ended. That was not her hoodie.
She slipped it on, anyway. 
As much as (Y/N) was crazy, and hypocritical, and jealous, and insensitive—she missed him. 
This whole thing would be a lot easier if she wasn't still in love with him. If he had just broken her heart and ruined those feelings for him, she wouldn't be feeling insane as she pulled the sleeves over her hands and pretended as if she wasn't breathing in his scent. 
Going out didn't seem so bad when she had this on, though.
Collecting her bag and keys, she made a point to rush through the final steps of readying herself before she was going out the door. If she waited too long, she might end up crying in this hoodie instead. 
Outside, it was raining much harder than she had initially thought. Pulling up her hood, she attempted to protect her hair from the droplets though there were casualties that were immediately pasted to her face. By the time she made it to her car, the hoodie was beginning to grow heavy against her back, rain streaked down her bare legs (in the interest of getting out of the house, she didn't change from her shorts like she'd wanted), and her lashes made heavy with mist. 
Once safe inside her car, she pulled in a heavy breath. 
She could do this. While Harry was out at dinner on a date, she'd go pick up some spaghetti noodles and more cheese than she should eat in a week.
Because she wasn't upset. She wanted to be broken up. She's fine.
With a forceful turn of the key in the ignition, (Y/N) gladly focused on the mechanics of driving through the rain as opposed to everything else on her mind. The clean scent in the air filtered through the cab, comforting her more than she realized. 
No doubt, she could do this. 
Pulling onto the main road, she turned up her music to be heard over the sound of the rain beating against the windscreen. The pavement was slick, dyed a slate black with the help of the droplets, puddles growing in every small divot in the road. The streetlamp twinkled off of the gathered water, rippling with each added drop. Everything was just a bit bleary through the windshield, even with the reach of her wipers going in overtime to wipe away the streaks. 
While she was never a huge fan of driving in less than perfect conditions, especially at night, the scene out here tonight was a perfect match to the pit in her stomach. It made sense for the weather to act this way, she thought; she was too torn up for the world to be given a cloudless, warm night. 
The music playing sifted through a playlist she'd found the other day, her search having been nothing more than for "breakup music". While she didn't know every song, or if she was even allowed to be moping to the tunes considering she was the one that cut things off, the lyrics she could catch were felt in her chest with a weight on her lungs. The ones about the other party moving on before the singer was ready stung particularly sharp tonight.
Especially when an all too familiar song started up, a voice she'd heard thousands of times before pleading with his ex lover to keep from calling her new flame "baby". 
This song had come out long before (Y/N) had met Harry, written with another in mind, but she remembered listening to it back then. She remembered wondering just how heartbroken one would have to be to write stanzas just as these, how hurtful it would be to see your love finding someone else to take your place. 
(Y/N) automatically reached out to skip the song, not even knowing it was on the playlist despite it being an obvious pick, but her hand stopped short. 
It'd been weeks since she heard his voice, even longer since he sang around her. Even if this was through speakers, mastered and fit to music, it was something she'd been missing despite pretending she didn't. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, dropping her and back to the steering wheel as if she hadn't just submitted to self-torture. 
As the tune went on, (Y/N) no longer had to wonder what kind of heartbreak went into poetry like this. She was right where Harry used to be, wishing he would give her just a bit longer of pretending to be his baby before he chose another. 
She hadn't realized she was tearing up until her wipers were unable to keep her view from being blurry. The rain outside now paled in comparison to pools glimmering at her waterline. Her skin felt hot, resistant to the chill seeping through her vents. She didn't even make it through the full of the outro before she repeated the song once more, knowing it would only spur her tears on that much more. 
Before she knew it, her bottom lip was quivering before a broken sob puffed from her lips. She sniffled with tears racing down her cheeks, searing over her warmed skin. 
It wasn't her business, but did he share the same bite of sushi with this new girl that he'd also given to (Y/N) a month ago? Did he order the same bottle of rosé? Did he reach across the table to push her hair out of her face just as he did for (Y/N)? Was tonight going to be the first date they would relay to friends and family when asked how they had found someone so special? She had no right to ask any of these questions, but was Harry going to fall in love with this new girl? 
Did he think of (Y/N) at all tonight, like she was thinking of him? 
The idea of being on Harry's mind at all was enough to have her hands tensing around the wheel, but the thought of not crossing it at all had them shaking instead. Her eyes were flooded, hands wavering on the steering wheel, skin warm and nose wet. The rain beat down against the hood of her car with as much force as her heartbeat, riding the tempo as if she couldn't hear it well enough in her ears. 
She shouldn't've left the house tonight. It would be way easier to sob like this if she wasn't having to also keep track of the road in front of her and the slick pavement beginning to flood with more water than the drains lining the sidewalks could handle. At least she seemed to be the only one out on the road at the moment. 
Scrubbing her hand over her eyes, she attempted to clear them in hopes of regaining her focus. The song was over now and she planned on wiping that song and subsequent album from her vicinity as soon as she made it to the grocery store. 
By the time she blinked her eyes open, lashes sticking to one another under the weight of her tears, she was only a few hundred feet away from the vague outline of a stoplight. She hadn't even seen the light shift from green to yellow, let alone to the blazing red that shone overhead. 
Of course, now would be the time she saw one other person on the road, already creeping out into the intersection to use their own green light. 
In a knee-jerk reaction, (Y/N) stomped on her brakes. Her breath caught when she felt that tell-tale give under her tires, the feel of the back of her car shifting out of sync with the steering wheel. 
The broken rattling of her heart was replaced by the pounding of the beats against her ribs as she realized there was no way she was going to stop. She was currently gliding over the road, her tires unable to grip onto anything underneath them through the layer of rain on the pavement. All she could do was turn the steering wheel and hope that her car followed, hopefully missing the poor bystander who would learn that she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have been when coming to the intersection. 
Every thought in her head seemed to happen in slow motion, but the world around her raced by in a second. She could feel her mouth moving, her voice muttering curses that made no sense, but there wasn't a single sound she heard over her heartbeat. Beyond her windows, the rain blurred every moving shape, her foot still heavy on the brake despite it being a fruitless effort. 
Headlights shone against her face for a brief second before she cranked the wheel, spinning just in time as she hit the middle of the intersection. Her new bleary view showed off the vague outline of the pole of the stoplight for a brief moment before spinning out even further until she was facing the direction she'd come in, her car turning in a complete one-eighty in her lane until everything suddenly stopped with a metallic crunch. 
She heard the impact before she felt it. Her driver's side door whammed into the pole of the stoplight, denting through the layers of metal with the window cracking and breaking. Prisms of glass rained over her, grazing her face and tops of her thighs with prickling shards. Her dented door threaded to push in on her before stopping, leaving a pressure against the side of her body and a complicated way to get out of the vehicle once she found her head. Her dashboard was lit up with every caution insignia as if she had no idea of what had just happened. Through the broken window, rain began to stream in, seeping into the cuts on her face and legs. She shivered though she couldn't feel a single chill from the air, her body beginning to reel from the accident she had just found herself in. 
In the back of her mind, over the pelting rain and pounding heartbeat, she heard her breakup playlist filtering through the remaining speakers. 
A wretchedly familiar voice singing about fine lines and being alright. 
"Hon? Are you okay?" 
Turning to face the nice woman who'd come to check on her after witnessing her blunder, (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond. 
She burst into tears.
—————
Harry really needed to stop wearing this necklace. 
He'd known that for the last few weeks, and, yet, every time he'd thought to unclasp it and put it at the bottom of a jewelry box to never be seen again, he never had the strength to. Instead, he continued to wear it every day, absently playing with the single pearl sitting at the base of his throat. 
Natalie watched as he fiddled with the pendant, but he still couldn't get himself to stop his idle hands. 
He hadn't even wanted to be here tonight, anyway—he had to self-soothe somehow, even if that meant playing with the necklace his ex-girlfriend gifted to him. 
Natalie was nice enough, a friend of a friend of a friend who'd been around to some parties here and there, but she wasn't (Y/N). Harry had only agreed to come out tonight in hopes of giving him a reason to wash his hair and eat something that wasn't bread or coffee while sitting on the kitchen floor. Even with clean hair and an order of his favorite sushi cleared from his plate, he still felt slices of guilt; one for going out with someone while still being very hung up on his ex, and for going out at all with someone who wasn't (Y/N). 
Harry wasn't stupid, he'd caught the cell phones pointed in his direction when he and his date had been seated. If it wasn't up already, it was only a matter of time before those photos would be circulating on all of the socials and appearing on timelines. He could already picture the headlines for tomorrow morning, detailing the mystery woman on this dinner date while questions about his previous flame were posed. He just hoped (Y/N) would somehow be able to dodge these flecks of news—even for only a couple of days. 
Hopefully, he'd have a chance to talk to her before she knew. If she was open to hearing from him, he'd explain where he was coming from in even agreeing to this date, and maybe she'd take him back. If she knew he was still in love with her, willing to change his schedule, relearn how to communicate, start going to therapy weekly again, would it be enough to salvage their relationship? 
"But, what about you?" 
Being pulled from his head, Harry had to face Natalie with a blink of his eyes. She had been talking about a movie or something—or was it her last holiday?—, but he hadn't heard a single word. Another pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 
He thumbed over the pearl at his throat. "Um... I'm so sorry, wh—" 
Divine intervention came in the form of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He shot an apologetic smile at Natalie before slipping the device out of his pocket, eager to pick up for whoever was on the other side. 
Until he saw the contact name, anyway. 
(Y/N)'s mother. She was calling him. 
"Who is it?" Natalie asked, canting her head at Harry's startled expression. 
"Um... Jus'—uh—someone I haven't heard from in a while. I have to take this, 'm sorry." 
He didn't catch Natalie's reaction before he was rising from his seat and heading towards the front door with the phone pressed to his ear. Rain sprinkled over his head while thunder cracked in the distance. A darker storm was moving in. 
"Hello?" 
"Harry?! Harry, are you there?" 
"'M here, yeah. Is everything alright?" He'd never heard her voice in such a frantic state, especially not over the phone like this. Was she that upset over the breakup? 
"(Y/N)—It's (Y/N). She's been in an accident, and I—we—Her father and I, we're—She's alone. I-I know you two broke up, but she's in the hospital by herself and the nurse said she's not doing okay, she's—I don't know, I don't want her to be alone but I can't get on a flight until tomorrow morning and there's—" 
Frantic chattering continued on through the receiver, but there wasn't a single syllable that was able to breach his thoughts. 
(Y/N) was in the hospital. She'd been in an accident and was now at the hospital. Alone. She wasn't doing well while she was in the hospital after being in an accident, all alone. 
His stomach turned. 
"Wha—Where's the hospital? What hospital is it?" 
Was he having a heart attack? Every beat of the organ fluttered at the base of his throat, the chambers squeezed tight. 
He needed to find her. She couldn't be alone. She had to be okay and he needed to be there. 
Her mother shakily relayed the name of the hospital and room number, stumbling over the syllables until Harry had them seared into his memory.
"I-I'm so sorry to ask you, I know what—" 
"No, no," he shook off her words, "Th-Thank you for telling me. 'M going to her right now, I'll let you know how she's doing." 
Shaky goodbyes were shared with quiet sobs sounding on the end of the other line. Harry felt breathless as he stowed his phone away, hands shaking with fumbling fingers. His head was a mess. 
All he wanted to do was go—get in his car and go, be with (Y/N). But, there was Natalie sitting at their table, a dessert ordered to the table with their check of sushi and wine waiting with their server. There were people around them who would no doubt post about any kind of commotion he sounded tonight, perhaps even leak his location if hearing he was on the way to a hospital in the city. (He usually liked to see the best in others, but it'd happened before, these wild invasions of privacy). 
Despite every instinct pushing him towards the parking lot and abandoning the night, Harry forced himself to walk back into the restaurant. He held a thin grip on his control, but it was enough to get him back to his table with Natalie so he could quietly speak with her. 
"Is everything okay?" she asked before he'd even taken his seat. 
Swallowing, his throat bobbed as he shook his head. "No, actually. I—'m really sorry, Natalie, but I have to go. My, um, a friend of mine—they're in the hospital. I need to go." 
Natalie's features were marred with surprise, mouth dropped open with her lashes in a glimmering flutter up at him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. That's so scary. No worries, go ahead I'll take care of everything. Call me when you can, okay?" 
Meeting the blue shimmer of her gaze, Harry felt his features tighten. She was much too nice for him. 
He wasn't going to call. 
Harry didn't say anything before he was rushing out of sight, only stopping at the hostess station for a slick second to tell the staff to charge the card attached to the reservation. Natalie was open to order whatever she wanted for the rest of the night, but she wasn't paying for a single cent. This would be his apology for never calling. 
It was with shaky fingers that he typed in the name of the hospital (Y/N) was at—all alone—as soon as he was in his car. Though his heartbeat didn't settle much, his head felt a bit clearer knowing that with every mile he was cruising down the street, he was growing closer to (Y/N). His hands couldn't stay idle for very long, consistently reaching up to the necklace around his throat. 
(Y/N) was going to be alright, right? 
The question warmed the backs of his eyes, flushing his skin. As much as he wanted—needed—to be at her side, Harry realized he wasn't sure what he was walking into. Her mother had said she wasn't doing okay—whatever that meant. What kind of scene was he going to walk into? 
Stop lights and brake lights passing in a blur through the growing rain, Harry made it to the hospital in record time. The pavement was slick, reflecting the glow of the streetlamps and the many car lights bumbling through the carpark. He didn't think before he was pulling into the first spot he found, parking at a sloppy angle before he was rushing out. 
With the rain coming down, his hair fell across his forehead, slicking to his skin. The droplets acted as the tears he was unwilling to shed until he saw (Y/N) in person. 
He marched his way into reception, shoes squeaking over the linoleum. Behind the desk, a woman perked up, spotting him with bored eyes before she perked up with recognition he knew too well. 
"Hi, um, how can I help you?" she sputtered. 
Unable to muster a greeting smile, he kept his eyes low. "I—um—I need to see someone, please?" 
The rest of the checkin passed in a daze, Harry only barely able to keep himself from begging to see (Y/N). He relayed as much information as he could, showing any kind of identification needed. He was more than thankful to hear that her parents had approved his visit during their initial phone call, something he filed away for later so he could thank them when he had a clear mind. 
The best thing he heard, the one that stuck glaringly in his mind, was the fact that she wasn't housed anywhere to be treated for critical pain. She was being held somewhere safe and hopefully comfortable. 
Following the given directions, Harry felt like a ghost as he floated through the different doors and elevators. He moved restlessly while he dinged through the floors, feet shuffling while his eyes were trained on the rising numbers. 
Was this the slowest elevator on earth? Or were they always like this? 
Once set free on the correct floor, Harry floated through the halls, sweaty palms pressed into the pockets of his pants. All he could focus clearly on was the room numbers pinned beside the doors, the thumps of his heart bubbling in his ears. 
After going down what felt like endless miles of hallways, the correct room number finally appeared before him. The door was shut, the lights inside dim. His hand hesitated on the door handle.
He had been so consumed with making it to her, to make himself feel better with the sight of her, that he hadn't really considered if she would even want to see him. If she wasn't asleep at the moment, would she just kick him out? She had been the one to break up with him, anyway. 
Before he could doubt himself any more, he pushed through, keeping his steps light over the linoleum. 
Just as he thought, the room was quiet and dark, rain streaking down the window. There was a warm glow coming from the standing lamp at the corner of the room, machines beeping along with the television with a made-for-tv movie playing. A whiteboard marked with her name was pinned to the wall, filled with stats and jargon Harry didn't have the mind to decipher. 
Amongst it all, (Y/N) was laid in the hospital bed with the thin covers pulled to her middle. Her eyes were shuttered, showing off the bruising underneath alongside the myriad of cuts over her skin. As peaceful as she appeared, sleeping away under the crumpled sheets, Harry couldn't help the tears that touched his eyes. 
With the door closing behind him, he drew closer to her bed. It didn't take much examination to spot the tear tracks glimmering on her cheeks, the swollen puff of her lips. It was the same way she'd looked when she had told him she didn't want to be with him any longer. 
Harry wasn't sure what broke his heart more: the obvious evidence of weeping on her features, or the fact that her tears would have skated over every cut and scratch marring her cheeks? 
He shuffled over the floor. He wanted to be at her side, hold her hand and let her know she wasn't alone anymore, but he didn't want to wake her. There was a reason that she wasn't allowed to head home after being checked out by the hospital team, the more rest she received the better. 
Instead, he gingerly made his way to her bedside, taking a spot in the uncomfortable chair seemingly waiting for him in the lamplight. With the way she was laid up in the bed, he had an unobstructed view of her relaxed features, some of the more notable injuries on her face bandaged up while others were left treated with nothing more than a glistening salve. She didn't look particularly comfortable, especially knowing how she usually liked to curl up with her hands to her cheek and legs to her chest, but this was better than nothing. 
Better than being in a wrecked car somewhere. 
The thought was sobering, enough to have those tears he had been urging away to resurface on his waterline once more. 
She was here. (Y/N) was okay—hurt, but well enough to be left to sleep on her own. She was no longer alone. 
He hung his head in his hands. He didn't want to think about what kind of accident would have put her here, blood on her face with machines monitoring every vital in her body. 
With those tears in his eyes, peeking up at her between his lashes, she looked like a watercolor painting. The edges were blurred, leaving the general outline of the person that filled his dreams and became his muse for the better part of the last year and a half. 
He couldn't believe the last month of his life. He'd lost her. And for what? Because he didn't think it was important enough to send her a text when he was going to be out later than initially thought? Because it was easier to let his schedule happen to him, as opposed to shaping his life around making enough time to spend time with her? Because why would he talk to her, tell her where he was coming from, when he could be passive aggressive and sweep everything under the rug instead?
The beeping of the heart monitor was the pitched baseline that anchored him to the room. Every dotted sound kept him from being swept away in the rivers of tears dripping down his heated cheeks. 
He could have lost her today. In the worst case scenario of this day, he would have received a very different phone call. He wouldn't have had the chance to sit at her side right now. He wouldn't have seen these healing injuries on her, instead having only old photographs to remember what life looked like on her. 
As cracked as his heart was at the moment, he would take these cuts and scrapes, this uncomfortable chair, the stiff set of her bedding, over any other ending this night could have had. 
The rain pelted against the window as Harry fixed his gaze to the love of his life. 
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, if it had been nothing more than a few minutes or if it had been hours at her side, until there was the soft click of the doorknob twisting with the door pushed open. Entering was a nurse in soft purple scrubs, hair pulled back and a clipboard in her hands. She had her eyes trained down before looking up to catch Harry wiping his eyes and (Y/N) unstirring in her bed. 
"Oh, hello," she murmured, voice soft as they were both aware of the patient in bed, "I didn't know she was having any visitors tonight." 
A barely there smile curled Harry's cheeks, his skin smooth of dimples. "Yeah, got here as fast as I could. Have you been helping her?" 
The nurse shook her head, "A little, but she's been asleep for most of it. Poor thing cried herself into exhaustion, so I doubt she really remembers meeting me." 
Her statement had his bottom lip quivering. Harry had to remind himself to be grateful she was even here to cry. 
"She's doing alright, though?" 
With a quick glance at the clipboard, the nurse nodded her head. "Yeah, she's doing much better—now that she's calmed down a little. We've just gotta keep an eye on her for tonight. She got a good crack to her head, so I want to make sure she doesn't sleep for too long tonight." 
Harry gave her a nod, a moment from offering to wake (Y/N) for her before the nurse stepped forward. In gentle tones with a hand to her shoulder, she woke (Y/N). 
Unlike her, she had been sleeping rather lightly, jumping awake after only a single call of her name. (Y/N) fluttered her eyes open, lashes sticking together from the dried crust of her tears, enough so that she reached her scratched hands up to rub the mess away. 
"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, her voice in a croak as she got her bearings. 
"Hello," the nurse responded with a gentle smile, "Sorry to wake you, hon. I just wanted to check on you, then you're good to go to sleep, again." 
"Okay," (Y/N) breathed, struggling to sit up. 
Without thinking, Harry surged forward, helping her as much as he could. The second he put his hands on her, (Y/N) jumped, having not seen him prior.
It was clear she was more than surprised to see him with the way her eyes widened, blanching at the sight of him. 
"Harry?"
He offered a quiet, thin smile, sitting back in his spot once she was stable, sitting up for the nurse. "Hi." 
Before much else could be shared between them, the nurse began running her tests. Small talk was shared between the two, (Y/N) glancing more than once in Harry's direction. His hands were a fiddling mess in his lap, watching with rapt attention as every evaluation was run. 
"Everything's looking okay—what I expected we'd be seeing," the nurse mused, writing down her information on the clipboard in hand, "But, how are you feeling? Any extra pain, anything you want me to take a look at or mention to the doctor?" 
"I'm fine," (Y/N) smiled, the expression less than convincing, "Nothing hurts any more than earlier." 
"Okay, okay," the nurse nodded, "That's good, let me know if that changes. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, so get in your rest while you can." 
A pointed look was placed in Harry's direction at her last statement, a teasing curl to the corner of her lips. (Y/N) gave a sheepish nod. 
"Right, thank you." 
The nurse departed with a couple of well wishes and a reminder that she'd be back in a few hours. Once the door clicked behind her, a stiff silence settled between them. The only sound came in the form of the mechanical beeping of the machines around her and the ending of the television movie playing. 
(Y/N) had her eyes facing ahead, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Harry stared at her. 
"(Y/N)—" 
"You're here." 
His throat bobbed as he heavily swallowed. "I am," he nodded, dropping his gaze to his picked cuticles in his lap, "Your mum called me." 
A furrow had her brow pinched. "Her and my dad are on vacation right now." 
Another nod, a strand of hair touching over his forehead. "They'll be back tomorrow morning, but she wanted someone to be with you tonight." 
Maybe it was the way her shoulders tensed, the glassy look that took over her gaze, or the pinch to her features, but something brittle settled in the air between them. Every breath felt delicate as he waited for any kind of response. 
"I'm sorry." 
It was his turn for his brows to knit together. "For what?" 
That fragile tension between them cracked. 
"You were on a date." 
Harry hung his head, lips thinning. He thought he would have more time to explain this. 
"'S not what it looks like, (Y/N)." 
She shook her head, voice quiet under her breath. "So it wasn't a date?" 
Sucking in a breath, his lungs squeezed. "I mean—It—Yes, it was a date, but—" 
The beeping of her heart monitor heightened, the pitch seemingly hitting higher than a moment before with the pace quickening. "So it is what it looks like." 
"(Y/N), 's more—there's more to it than that." 
(Y/N) only shrugged at his half-hearted response, her head hanging between her shoulders. 
Harry felt just as defeated as she looked now. This wasn't how he wanted to reunite with her, but he guessed beggars couldn't be choosers. This was the opportunity he had, and he wasn't going to turn it away. 
"What happened tonight?" he murmured, shifting the conversation away from his own blunders. Unfortunately, this avenue would be an easier section to stomach than anything she would want to know about his date. 
"I got into an accident." 
"I know," Harry gently prodded, "But, what happened? Y'usually only hit curbs, not anything else." 
His shoulders loosened when his teasing was enough to draw a huffed laugh from her, a slight smile softening her features. 
As much as they may have deteriorated recently, he did know her. He knew her better than he knew himself. 
"It was just raining really hard, and—I don't know—I wasn't able to stop like I thought. I slid and hit a pole, and... yeah." 
As much as he did like teasing her about her more precarious driving habits, he knew more than anything that she was cautious. It wasn't like her to settle into accidents like this—she rarely ever drove in weather like this anyway, let alone at night. 
"Y'never drive in the rain," he pressed, an unaired question bookending his words. 
"I know." 
Harry looked at her, waiting for more than those two syllables. It was fruitless, he knew. 
He hung his head, running an absent hand through his hair before his fingers found the pearl at his throat. Eyes on the floor between his feet, he couldn't look at her as he spoke once more. 
"(Y/N). What happened tonight?" This isn't like you. Why did this happen? 
The air in the room seemingly went still. 
When he chanced a look up once more, he saw her sitting in her hospital bed with sparkling tears in her eyes. His chest panged at the sight. He knotted his fingers tighter together, forcing himself to see from reaching out. 
"(Y/N)...," he started, voice decidedly more gentle than a moment before. 
She shook her head. "I didn't want to be home—and I was crying, and I wasn't paying attention and the rain was heavier than I thought—and just... Everything happened." 
What was worse? Hearing that she had cried more than once tonight, before she'd even got in her accident, or seeing her recount it with another set of tears racing down her cheeks? 
This time he couldn't help himself; Harry reached out to touch her wrist. Her skin was warm under the chill of goosebumps on her skin. While she didn't move to hold his hand like she used to, she didn't flinch away. That was enough, he thought. 
"Why were y'crying, lo—(Y/N)?" He internally cringed at his slip up. He had no place calling her anything but her name. "What happened?" 
Another shake of her head. "It's stupid," she sniffled, fluttering her eyes closed with the tears clinging to the tips of her lashes. 
"Not if it made y'so upset that y'ended up here tonight," he crooned, words a quiet lilt only for her to hear, "What happened?" 
"I—It's..." she cut herself off more than once, throat bobbing, "I don't... I was the one that broke up with you, I-I'm not supposed to be upset. It-It's not fair." 
Her voice was barely a whisper by the time she finished speaking. His hand on her wrist tightened, a snug warmth against her skin. He ran his thumb over the bone, pretending he didn't feel the cut just on the underside. 
He waited. 
Another made-for-tv movie started on her television. 
He waited. 
She took a deep breath. Her eyes still closed.
"You went on a date tonight." 
Harry's shoulders deflated. 
"(Y/N)—"
"No," she peeped, shaking her head with her arm stiffening under his hold, "No. You were on a date, and I'm crazy and I'm not supposed to be upset, but I couldn't handle it—I didn't want to be home alone an-anymore. I didn't think you'd be over it already since I'm not, but you-you can do whatever you want an-and I need to be okay with that. And, then you—your music, it started playing while I was driving and I-I—Harry, I couldn't stop crying and then I crashed." Her voice was clogged in her throat, muddy and thick. Her tone came in waves, ebbing and flowing until it gave out. "I'm sorry." 
There was no chance Harry had of keeping his own tears at bay as he listened. It was too much—all of it; hearing her beginning to sob over the thought of him being over their relationship, how just the sound of his voice over her speakers brought her to tears while driving, the fact that she'd seen photos of him out on a date had driven her from her home to get away from herself. 
He felt his skin flush, the warmth heading down his neck the same way his tears did. He sniffled his nose, his lips rolled between his teeth to keep himself from blurting out each thought he couldn't help but to have. 
He doubted telling her how much he loved her was going to be much help when she was so dedicated to the thought of him already finding someone new to replace her. 
"You—" he cut himself off when his voice came a croak, clearing his throat with his hand on her wrist. "Y'don't have to be sorry, (Y/N). You're not crazy, either—I don't know what I would do if I'd seen y'go out with someone else, either. Y—'M jus' sorry, I never—I didn't mean to—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured, shaking her head as she slid her arm out from under his hand, curling into herself while she refused to open her eyes. "It's not your fault—you—I ended our relationship, you can do whatever you want." A shuddering breath had her shoulders shaking, lungs rattling. "I-I'm sorry you're here instead of with her." 
Just short of climbing up on the bed beside her, Harry pulled his chair as close to her side as he could. There wasn't anything he could say—nothing that he could imagine would shift her mind on what she'd seen and decided was the truth. All he could do, even if it involved uncomfortable bending of his joints, was collect her into his arms and hold her. It was only then that the slow roll of her tears were let loose into full weeps, her face buried into his neck. 
She burrowed against him, sinking into him as if the last month hadn't occurred. His hands spanned over her form, familiar with every plane and curve. His fingers caught on the raised abrasions that could be felt through her thin gown, but Harry could only be grateful that those were the only evidence of her accident. The mechanical beeping of her pulse skittered high, enough so he worried that the nurse could be alerted of the disturbance. Nonetheless, he held her tighter. 
"There's nowhere else I want to be," he murmured into her hair, his voice watery like the tears running down his cheeks. 
Reaching towards him, (Y/N) wrapped her hands in the wool of his jacket, fingers clawing into the fabric in a tighter grip than he'd expected from her state. "E-Even tonight?" 
Her cry was thin and pathetic, causing Harry to pulse his arms around her once more. "Tonight—every night. As long as 'm with you." 
He could feel the flutter of her lashes as she cinched her eyes shut tighter. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again, just audible given how closely he had her wrapped around him, "Wh-What about her?" 
He shook his head against her hair, his nose skating over her crown. There would be a time to really unpack why he found himself at a candlelit table with Natalie, including everything that was going through his head every time she spoke to him, but that wasn't tonight. She needed him, and all of the reassurance he could give more than he needed to clear his conscience and monologue over his feelings. 
"She's not you and that's all that matters to me," he told her, sincerity dripping in his tone, "All I want is you." 
(Y/N) cried in a blubbering sob, "I didn't think you loved me anymore." 
Harry's own eyes had to be shuttered closed then, a fruitless attempt in hopes of stemming the tears falling out of his eyes and into (Y/N)'s hair. "I didn't think y'loved me anymore, darling." 
"I-I do, I do," she countered, shaking her head in his neck with her grip tightening on him, "We-We just never saw ea-each other anymore, and I-I thought you were mad at me all th-the time and I thought we'd be happier apart—b-but I was wrong and—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," he soothed her, starting a circuit of his palm over her back, "I-I understand. But now we know—you're all I want, an-and I'll do anything to make it work with you." 
"You're all I want," she whimpered, voice tight, "Don't leave me." 
While a part of him was soaring knowing that she was still in love with him, that this wasn't over the way he'd thought, he was still more than heartbroken to hear that she was so torn up and broken herself. She thought she had no choice but to end the relationship in hopes of making both of them happier elsewhere. He never imagined himself making someone he loved feel that way. 
"I won't." 
—————
Rubbing the lack of sleep out of his eye, Harry stood back as (Y/N) checked out of the hospital. Her mother was twined to her side with her father looking just as distraught, though he was better at giving his daughter space. They'd come straight here as soon as they landed only a couple of hours prior, walking in on Harry who had stayed far longer than the originally carved out visiting hours with (Y/N) still in his arms. 
Gratitude was exchanged between them—Harry for coming to (Y/N)'s side at a moment's notice, and her parents for telling him at all and letting him be there for her—with a thread of stiffness lingering afterwards. Harry couldn't blame them; the last they'd heard about him was the fact that he'd been dumped by their daughter along with all the reasons why. They didn't know what had come of the night before, yet, only seeing the aftermath of their tear puffed faces and his arms wrapped around her.
Truthfully, Harry wasn't even sure where he stood with (Y/N) at the moment. Promises uttered through sobs after a traumatic event wasn't something he was going to hold her to. Even if he wanted to believe she was still in love with him and wanted to be with him like she'd said last night. 
Armed with paperwork and parents at her side, (Y/N) nodded to the nurse at the checkout with a plastered smile. Though they were still clear on her skin, the cuts and scrapes she'd earned in her accident didn't look so bad when she smiled with light in the eyes. 
Though he was still a bit too far away, he could hear the mumblings of a quiet conversation happening between (Y/N) and her parents. He was sure she was going to go home with them, and sort out everything else that couldn't be helped with a night at the hospital, but he'd wait until he knew she was safe before he'd leave himself. 
He watched from the corner of his eye, giving them privacy, though he could see (Y/N) waving off her parents before stepping towards him. It was a lingering departure, her mother refusing to let go too readily, though she eventually resigned herself to head down the hallway towards the bank of elevators with her husband and her daughter's paperwork. 
(Y/N) took shy steps towards Harry, empty hands a fiddling mess. 
"You're still here," she said, voice quiet to match the waiting room. 
He shrugged, a small smile having curled the corner of his lips. Was he supposed to remind her that she had asked him to stay, or keep that ex-boyfriend barrier in place? (If it was even still standing, given the way she'd fallen asleep in his arms just hours before).
"You're doing alright?" he asked instead, scanning over the planes of her face as if he didn't have them memorized already. 
She nodded. "Just sore, but I think I'm just going to feel that way for a little while. My head's doing better, though—I still have a headache, but I don't think it's because of the accident." 
Though she ended with a laugh, Harry figured she wasn't sure what to make of last night anymore than he did. 
"'M happy you're alright," he told her, sincerity weaved through his words, "Are your mum and dad taking y'home?" 
"Yeah," she nodded, looking over her shoulder to the couple waiting at the elevators, "I think my mom wants me to stay at their house tonight, but we'll see." 
"Oh, y'don't want to spend hours watching soap opera reruns tonight?" Harry teased, a sly smile touching his lips. The curl only stretched when (Y/N) laughed. 
"Not particularly, but who knows," she said, sparing another glance over her shoulder to see the audience waiting on her, "Um, we talked a lot last night." 
"We did, yeah," he nodded, throat bobbing as swallowed, eyes dropping from her own, "But, we don't—'m not—If y'don't feel the same way as y'did last night, 'm not going to ma—" 
"I do," she cut him off, a bright chirp that matched the spark in Harry's chest. "I do feel the same, I mean. We should probably talk a little more, though, right?" 
A dimple dented Harry's cheek, suddenly feeling incredibly more alive than just a heartbeat before. "Probably." 
"Are you busy tomorrow? In the morning?" 
It didn't take a second thought before Harry was moving his schedule around to keep his morning stark open tomorrow. Those meetings could be moved—maybe even made into an email or a quick phone call. 
"Not for you." 
The blooming smile she gave him was reminiscent of the first time he pulled that flirtation on her. 
"Good," she quipped, "I'll call you tonight or something, then. Maybe we could get breakfast tomorrow?" 
"I'll be there," he cemented, "Jus' tell me when." 
The rewarding light in her eyes made it easy for Harry to forget the last month of his light (except for the night he'd just spent with her, of course). 
"I will," she told him, "Bye, Harry." 
Maybe it was the way she hesitantly stepped towards him, or the shy way she had her lips rolled between her teeth with a budding smile, or the memory of her warmth against his chest, but Harry didn't think before he was collecting her into his arms. (Y/N) melted into his chest on instinct, wrapping her arms around his middle. He could feel the mush of her cheek against the cuff of his shoulder. Despite the sterile scent of the hospital clinging to her, underneath it all was the familiar fragrance of her shampoo and sweet body lotion she somehow never ran out of. 
Drawing away first, (Y/N) only put enough space between them to get a look up at Harry. Though her eyes were bloodshot, bags darkening underneath, and the shadow of her tears lingering in the corners, he'd never seen anything more beautiful than (Y/N)'s eyes. 
"I'll see y'tomorrow." 
"See you tomorrow." 
Long after she untangled herself from his hold, Harry still felt (Y/N)'s warmth long enough to carry him home and keep him company until his phone rang a familiar tone later that night. 
—————
ahhhhhh I never write angst so I hope this turned out all right! thank you sm for reading, and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or anything at all send them in!
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fandom · 1 year ago
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Ships
Unexpected connections happen in two places: the Ships list and Feeld—a dating app for the curious. On Feeld, finding like-minded people is as fulfilling as finding yourself. In celebration of ships, here are this year’s iconic connections.
Ineffable Husbands +17 Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens
Steddie Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Stranger Things
Destiel Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural
Byler -3 Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Stranger Things
Wenclair Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Wednesday
Bowuigi Bowser & Luigi, the Super Mario Bros. franchise
Huntlow +7 Hunter & Willow Park, The Owl House
Avatrice Ava Silva & Beatrice, Warrior Nun
Hannigram +2 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal
Buddie -4 Evan Buckley & Edmundo Diaz, 9-1-1
Vashwood Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trigun Stampede
Zelink +80 Zelda & Link, The Legend of Zelda
Lumity -6 Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House
Ghostsoap Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish, the Call of Duty franchise
Blackbonnet -11 Edward Teach/Blackbeard & Stede Bonnet, Our Flag Means Death
Wolfstar +8 Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe
Merthur +12 Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin
Jegulus +25 James Potter & Regulus Black, the Harry Potter universe
Bumbleby +48 Yang Xiao Long & Blake Belladonna, RWBY
Bakudeku -4 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku no Hero Academia
Dreamling -1 Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, The Sandman
Soukoku +60 Nakahara Chuuya & Dazai Osamu, Bungou Stray Dogs
Firstprince Alex Claremont-Diaz & Prince Henry of Wales, Red, White & Royal Blue
Wesper Wylan Van Eck & Jesper Fahey, the Grishaverse
Wangxian -8 Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Mo Dao Zu Shi
Satosugu +23 Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru, Jujutsu Kaisen
Imodna +8 Imogen Temult & Laudna, Critical Role
Kanej +44 Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, the Grishaverse
Bubbline Princess Bubblegum & Marceline, Adventure Time
Ladynoir -17 Ladybug & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
Twiyor +6 Loid Forger & Yor Forger, SPY x FAMILY
Loustat +43 Louis de Pointe du Lac & Lestat de Lioncourt, Interview with the Vampire
Zosan Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, One Piece
Marichat -12 Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
Serirei +65 Serizawa Katsuya & Reigen Arataka, Mob Psycho 100
Adrienette -21 Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
Chenford +24 Lucy Chen & Tim Bradford, The Rookie
Petrigrof Simon Petrikov & Betty Grof, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake
Kavetham Kaveh & Alhaitham, Genshin Impact
Griddlehark +54 Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, The Locked Tomb series
Raeda -13 Raine Whispers & Eda Clawthorne, The Owl House
Tomgreg -19 Tom Wambsgans & Greg Hirsch, Succession
Hanamusa Jessie & Delia Ketchum, the Pokémon franchise
Zolu Roronoa Zoro & Monkey D. Luffy, One Piece
Narumitsu -12 Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney
Sonadow +23 Sonic & Shadow, Sonic the Hedgehog
Ineffable Bureaucracy Archangel Gabriel & Beelzebub, Good Omens
Spirk +9 Spock & James Kirk, Star Trek
Ballister x Ambrosius Ballister Boldheart & Ambrosius Goldenloin, Nimona
Nandermo -42 Nandor the Relentless & Guillermo de la Cruz, What We Do in the Shadows
Jonmartin -15 Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, The Magnus Archives
Punkflower Hobie Brown & Miles Morales, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
AkiAngel Aki Hayakawa & the Angel Devil, Chainsaw Man
Ronance -49 Robin Buckley & Nancy Wheeler, Stranger Things
Superbat -11 Superman & Batman, the DC universe
Shuake Ren Amamiya/Joker & Goro Akechi, Persona 5
Geraskier -48 Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier, The Witcher
Hualian -18 Hua Cheng & Xie Lian, Tian Guan Ci Fu
Sulemio Suletta Mercury & Miorine Rembran, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury
Sterek -5 Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale, Teen Wolf
Gumlee Prince Gumball & Marshall Lee, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake
Shadowpeach Sun Wukong & the Six-Eared Macaque, Lego Monkie Kid
Drarry -29 Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe
Wilmon Prince Wilhelm & Simon Eriksson, Young Royals
Harringrove -34 Steve Harrington & Billy Hargrove, Stranger Things
Kazurei Suwa Rei & Kurusu Kazuki, Buddy Daddies
Lestappen Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen, Formula 1 drivers
Zukka -5 Zuko & Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Codywan +8 Commander Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Solangelo -23 Will Solace & Nico di Angelo, the Percy Jackson universe
Catradora Catra & Adora, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Shadowgast -4 Caleb Widogast & Essek Thelyss, Critical Role
Stucky -43 Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes, the Marvel universe
Tarlos -18 TK Strand & Carlos Reyes, 9-1-1: Lone Star
Johnlock +21 John Watson & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock
Sasunaru -24 Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Naruto
Locklyle Anthony Lockwood & Lucy Carlyle, Lockwood & Co.
Lokius Loki Laufeyson & Mobius M. Mobius, the Marvel universe
Supercorp -67 Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Supergirl
Piltover's Finest Caitlyn Kiramman & Vi, Arcane
Helnik Matthias Helvar & Nina Zenik, the Grishaverse
Prohibitedwish Scarab & Prismo, Adventure Time
Klance -12 Keith & Lance, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Reylo Rey & Kylo Ren, the Star Wars universe
Hanazawa Teruki & Kageyama Shigeo, Mob Psycho 100
Cockles -44 Misha Collins & Jensen Ackles, Actors
Percabeth -46 Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, the Percy Jackson universe
Astarion x Tav Astarion & Tav, Baldur's Gate 3
Timkon Tim Drake & Conner Kent, Young Justice
Davekat Dave Strider & Karkat Vantas, Homestuck
Cynonari Cyno & Tighnari, Genshin Impact
Creek Craig Tucker & Tweek Tweak, South Park
Klapollo Apollo Justice & Klavier Gavin, Ace Attorney
Style Stan Marsh & Kyle Brovlofski, South Park
Korrasami -11 Korra & Asami Sato, The Legend of Korra
Bill x Frank Bill & Frank, The Last of Us
Nick x Charlie -51 Nick Nelson & Charlie Spring, Heartstopper
Dreamnotfound -50 Dreamwastaken & GeorgeNotFound, Streamers
Dinluke -33 Din Djarin & Luke Skywalker, the Star Wars universe
Rhaenicent Rhaenyra Targaryen & Alicent Hightower, House of the Dragon
The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded ships weren’t on the list last year. Explore your desires on Feeld. Within a safer, inclusive space, you can feel free to connect more intimately to yourself and others. Choose from over 20 gender and sexuality options and explore solo, or with a partner. Curious? Download the app today.
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faithfulpuppy · 2 years ago
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I downloaded Hinge and the first profile it offered me was like "Something I won't shut up about: Harry Potter!" and like JESUS CHRIST bad start
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jarofstyles · 2 months ago
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Cabernet
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This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.
Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!
WC- 4.1k
Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements
-------
Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated. 
Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts. 
“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company. 
Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased. 
“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her. 
It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.
Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous. 
Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy. 
“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead. 
Again, cute.
“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”
“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out. 
“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap. 
“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?” 
“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.
“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.” 
“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”
“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”
There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.
He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.
Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship. 
“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.” 
“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.
“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward. 
“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?” 
Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day. 
Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap. 
“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”
——-
Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night. 
She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim.  “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too?  Fill you from both ends."
“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?
“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."
The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.
"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.
As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.
She had done it. 
“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.
"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."
“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.
"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."
It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.
He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”
Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”
Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him. 
“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting,  but she wanted to hear it.
"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."
Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”
"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”
“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”
"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.
"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.
Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.
As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.
His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.
"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.
His restraint shattered at her words.  "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."
With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.
With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”
“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”
“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.” 
Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.
“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return. 
“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.” 
“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy. 
“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”
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blue-lights-to-dreams · 23 days ago
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Golden Light // H.S.
synopsis: you go on a blind date with Harry at your best friend's insistence and enjoy it much more than you expected.
wc: 3.9k
a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! i haven't written fic in a hot minute, so let me know what you think! this will likely have a part 2 where the exciting stuff happens, but writing even this much took me forever so i wanted to share before the Christmas mentions became irrelevant, lol!
The streets of New York City are beautiful this time of year. Christmas lights twinkle in nearly every retail storefront, some even including a dusting of ripped-up cotton balls and other snow-like materials. Just ignore the grey sludge coating the streets.
You were never one for holiday cheer, and today was no exception. Despite thinking the same of every single day, you’ve had what you would consider the longest day of your life. Your first meeting ran late by just a few minutes, but even this was enough to push your calendar so far off that you needed to reschedule your final call with the client you’d been waiting almost a month to meet with.
There was nothing more in this world you wanted to do than curl up in bed with a bottle of wine and a silk eye mask. But, here you were, trudging down the streets of New York City in your slightly uncomfortable heels, trying to dodge puddles, slush, and other mysterious substances on the sidewalk, on your way to a blind date. Emma had set you up with a friend of her boyfriend’s, and she’d made you promise you’d give him a chance.
Your last relationship had ended with a bang after you went to his apartment to surprise him after getting out of work early one afternoon, only to find him in bed with a blonde girl you never did learn the name of. 
You could easily find a man to wake up to the next morning, but after years of running your own business, it wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar to meet Mr. Right. You’d dated enough men with little ambition; you needed someone who had drive– had success.
All you knew about your date for the night was his name was Harry, he was a record executive, and, according to Emma, he was hot.
The pit in your stomach only grew as you approached Bella Napoli. It didn’t help you’d spent the last six blocks trying to lift your dress and nearly-floor-length coat high enough to keep it out of the puddles.
The little blue location dot on your maps app glided closer to the restaurant with each step you took, nearly there - mist ghosted over your nose with each exhale, doing nothing to keep it warm in the frigid weather of the city, and you couldn’t wait to get inside.
Finally, you spotted the marquee sign affixed to the small brick building half a block up, signaling the end of your journey. The glass-front double doors opened easily under your hasty pull, eager to feel the heat of the brick building’s furnace.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the hostess greeted from behind her podium. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and prominent cheekbones.
“Good evening, I have a reservation under (Y/L/N),” you brushed stray snowflakes off of your wool coat. Emma had ensured she would let Harry know the reservation would be under your name, and you hoped she hadn’t forgotten.
“Ah, yes, table for two? Right this way.” The young woman stepped from behind the podium and began heading toward the main dining area. You followed her as she snaked around the tables full of affluently dressed couples and businessmen in suits, reaching a small archway leading into a more dimly-lit section of the restaurant. 
She led you to a booth in the corner with velvet seats and matching curtains, held open by small hooks on either side - out of sight from most of the other patrons in the section, who didn’t seem to be paying any mind to you anyway. A small candle sat between two menus, adjacent to a traditional silverware layout and an empty highball glass on either side of the booth.
You slid onto the bench facing the room’s entrance as the hostess filled each glass with ice water. She nodded as you thanked her and informed her a man by the name of Harry should be arriving soon to join you. Just in case Emma had forgotten.
The menu was short but obviously well-curated. The wine list was almost twice the length of the food menu - just how you liked it. You skimmed the offerings, deciding on a merlot of the second-highest price point. Your anxiety still made itself known in the way your stomach was twisting. You checked the time. It was 5:58 pm - still two minutes early. You hoped the wine would drown the butterflies (or maybe moths) in your stomach.
Your eyes returned to the restaurant’s food offerings but were again drawn upwards as another person sauntered into the secluded section of the restaurant. His pale grey, half-unbuttoned silk shirt settled just under the gold cross necklace grazing the indent between his pecs. A blazer of a much darker grey draped his shoulders, matching the straight-legged trousers just long enough to only allow the front of his patent-leather black loafers to peek out from under them. 
The air suddenly felt heavy, like you couldn’t get a breath in. Who is the lucky lady he’s here with tonight? Your eyes darted around the section, trying to find his date, but coming up empty. 
Shit, is this Harry?
Your fears are confirmed as you realize the hostess had entered the room a bit ahead of him and was leading him to your booth. The poor girl looked entirely flustered.
“Here you are, sir. Your waitress will be over shortly to grab your drink orders,” she squeaked, turning on her heels and scurrying away as quickly as possible.
You smiled at him as you shuffled out of the booth and rose to your feet, trying to seem much more confident than you were. You reached about the height of his shoulder in your heels.
“You must be (Y/N),” he spoke with a slight smile, glancing at your attire before returning his eyes to meet yours.
“That would be me. And you must be Harry.” You smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing out the part of the dress resting on your hips.
Harry took a step toward you with arms extended, pulling you into an easy hug, His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and yours around his waist. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of vanilla, patchouli, and musk. Expensive. Even just brushing your fingers across his suit jacket as he pulled away, the feel of the fibers suggested it had also not been cheap.
“You look stunning. I love the color of your dress,” he complimented, pulling back slightly with his hand hovering over your waist. “It looks great on you.”
“Thank you, it was actually a gift from my mother.” Compliment-taking was not your forte.
“Well, she has great taste. Shall we?” He motioned toward the set table, waiting for you to take your seat before sliding into the bench on the opposite side. “Have you been here before?”
“I haven’t, but I’ve heard great things. Have you?” His ring-clad fingers picked up the beverage menu in front of him as you spoke.
“I have, it’s one of my favorites.” That must have been why he suggested it.
“Is the Merlot any good? That’s what I was thinking of ordering, but I’m open to suggestions.” You played with the seam of your dress under the table absentmindedly.
��Now that, I haven’t had. I’m more of a white wine guy myself. I’m a fan of the Riesling.”
“Really? My first guess would have been whiskey, honestly.” There exists a pattern in these kinds of men - they always drank some very expensive whiskey they needed to tell you all about, as if it didn’t taste like smoke-flavored lighter fluid.
“I tend to prefer a sweeter taste,” his eyebrows twitched as he raised the glass of water to his lips. You nodded before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, taking time to browse the food menu.
It wasn’t very extensive, with a few choices to pick from each protein category. You settled on a grilled chicken tagliatelle with a cream sauce, hoping it would pair well with the wine.
“Hi, my name is Danielle and I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” a voice burst your bubble of concentration, “have we decided on what we’d like to drink?”
You recited your wine order first, with Harry following shortly after. The waitress jotted down your selections in her notepad before exiting the room with a promise to be back to take your food orders shortly.
“So, Emma said you work in marketing?” he spoke slowly. His accent was thick, only further drawing you into the conversation.
“PR, actually,” you replied, “I have my own firm, with a few employees. I love it.”
“That’s amazing,” he sounded sincere. “How long have you been in PR?”
“Almost a decade, but I’ve had the firm for a little over 3 years. At first, it was just myself operating out of my apartment, but we’ve been able to build up some clientele and move to an actual office space. Emma said you work for Atlas Sound, right?” you shifted the conversation away from yourself, curious about what exactly came with being a record executive.
“That’s right. I’m mostly in charge of production but I help out with some of the publishing aspects as well.”
“Ah, so no talent scouting? I was hoping this could be my big break…” you mused, narrowing your eyes at him. Harry chuckled, flashing the smile you’d found yourself dead set on seeing more of. 
“No, no, unfortunately, that’s not me, but I may know some people who could help. Let me guess, rap?”
You almost choked on the water you’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it before the laugh burst from your throat. It caught you off guard - Harry honestly didn’t look like he would even know what rap is. A silly notion, given his career, but true anyway.
“You have a beautiful laugh,” Harry stated sincerely, and your heart just about stopped. 
Before you got the chance to respond, a full wine glass was placed in front of each of you. You hadn’t even noticed the waitress had come back. “Here are those drinks. Did we decide on what we’d like to eat? I can make some suggestions if you’re not sure what to get…”
It appeared as if she’d forgotten you were even in the room with the way she was staring directly at Harry. You couldn’t blame the girl - you’d been staring too - but she could definitely tell the two of you were on a date, so she could have at least been a little more subtle.
Harry smiled politely (and briefly) at her before turning his attention back to you to confirm you were ready to order. You both relayed your choices to the waitress, and you appreciated that Harry did not seem like he was interested in entertaining her advances.
“Anyways, where were we…” he smiled again, and your heart lurched.
Conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, aided by the wine in your glasses. You found yourself getting less and less nervous about him not being the right fit, but more and more nervous you were somehow making a fool of yourself. 
The story of how one of your interns accidentally jammed the copier so badly you had to buy a completely new unit made Harry laugh loudly. It was one of many stories you had from your job that were definitely funnier in retrospect than they were as they happened. You were aware you’d talked a lot so far, but you couldn’t help it. The way Harry spoke was attractive, but the way he listened was even better. He seemed genuinely interested in the stories you told, maintaining eye contact, nodding in the right spots, and asking thoughtful follow-up questions. It had been a while since you’d had a date genuinely listen to you, and it was refreshing. 
He asked more about your job, and you found yourself telling him how as much as you like being “in charge” and able to have control over your firm, sometimes it was incredibly stressful, especially in emergencies. He could see the stress that followed you home every day seep back into your expression, despite you trying your best not to let it show.
His ring-clad hand slid across the table, fingers gently entwining with yours and giving them a quick squeeze.
“You know, I think you’re brave for taking that risk. You should be proud of what you’ve built.” The eye contact he made with you as he spoke was intense, with sincerity behind his words. His hand was warm, contrasting the cool feeling of the metal rings, and you subconsciously squeezed it back in an attempt to keep it where it was. Luckily, your hands stayed intertwined for another couple of minutes as you expressed your appreciation for his kindness and shifted the conversation back to his job until your food was in front of you.
The meals were delicious, just as Harry had promised. He’d ordered a mushroom risotto that looked delicious, and your pasta tasted perfect with the wine you’d chosen. Good job, self.
Soon, you found your plate nearly empty and your body warm from the alcohol. Your thoughts felt slightly fuzzy, and you caught yourself staring a little too long at the rings on Harry’s right hand, as well as the fingers adorning them. The muscles flexed as he moved his hands while speaking, and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away. You knew how his hand felt in yours, but how would it feel touching your cheek, against your back, gripping your - 
“Did you save room for dessert? The tiramisu is incredible.” Harry’s voice broke your train of thought, and you quickly averted your eyes back to his. What seemed like a slight smirk played on his face, but you couldn’t tell if it was because he’d noticed the staring, or if the alcohol was just affecting him as well. You prayed for the latter.
“That sounds great, but I can probably only take a few bites. Would you want to share a piece?” you suggested, much too full for an entire dessert to yourself.
“I’d love to.” Harry absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm you couldn’t place, not helping your attempts not to stare. “So, tell me more about that yoga class?”
The conversation flowed again, with Harry ordering dessert when the waitress stopped by. Of course, you were just as interested in his words as he was in yours, hanging on his every accented sentence. He was a captivating storyteller and his facial expressions were no different - you loved how his eyes lit up at the good parts and narrowed at the bad in the story. The slight scruff on his face complimented the way his mouth moved as it formed words, drawing you closer. How would they feel against your own lips, you wondered? 
You could hear the words he was saying, but you weren’t fully listening as he continued telling you about the time he got a little too drunk at a friend’s birthday party and ended up volunteering to give a speech he had in no way prepared for. It was a great story, very funny, but your mind was otherwise preoccupied. Wine always made you… flirty.
Soon, the tiramisu was in front of you. This, too, looked delicious - Harry was right again.
“Would you like the first bite?” He offered, picking up one of the small forks laid out on the plate and scooping a bite of the dessert onto it.
“Well, ladies first I suppose,” you joked. You parted your mouth slightly as you leaned forward, waiting for him to place the fork on your tongue. What you weren’t expecting was for his other hand to reach out and lightly grasp your jaw, thumb on your chin to hold your mouth farther open. A choked gasp escaped your lips at the same time the sweet cake hit your tongue, but you could barely taste it, too distracted by the skin contact. Again, his eyes didn’t leave yours as he allowed your mouth to close and pulled his hand away from your face.
“Well? How is it?” he asked, with a definite smirk this time. 
You tried to compose yourself before answering, swallowing the dessert and the lump that had formed in your throat. “It’s good… really good.” Your voice came out breathier than you intended, and you blinked heavily a couple of times, trying to kickstart the part of your brain that could think of anything except what you’d like to do with the gorgeous man sitting in front of you.
Harry took his own bite next, letting his eyes flutter shut as his mouth closed around the fork. His long eyelashes rested atop his strong cheekbones, the same ones you almost had to physically stop yourself from reaching over to brush your fingertips over. His lips were a stunning, dark shade of red, still slightly wet from the wine he’d been enjoying.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the bite, slightly brushing against the collar of his shirt. Seafoam green eyes made contact with yours as he opened them again, and a small smile graced his face as he realized you’d been watching him intently.
“You’re right, it is really good.” Your heart raced under the fervency of his gaze. He was staring into you like he wanted to read the thoughts echoing in your brain. “Would you like another bite?”
“Sure, but I can feed myself this one if you like,” you attempted to lighten the intense mood that had befallen your booth so you might actually be able to catch your breath,
“That won’t be necessary, I was quite enjoying myself,” Harry mused, refusing to break eye contact until you did. He scooped another bite onto the fork, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear before resuming his grip on your jaw and returning the fork to your lips. He felt your jaw flex as you chewed and swallowed the bite, but didn’t take his hand off of your face. Instead, he brought his thumb back to your lips and brushed below them gently, careful not to smudge your lipstick. 
He brought his thumb back to his mouth and slowly closed his lips around the pad of it, a half-smile tugging at his lips at your bewildered expression. “Sorry, you had a little something there. I figured I’d get it for you.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath instead of attempting to utter a response.
He took another bite himself before offering you another, which you obliged with little hesitation.
“You know, Harry, you need to be careful feeding me like this or I’ll get used to it.” Another feeble attempt to ease the tension and stop acting like a flustered teenager.
“I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmured, voice sincere and slow, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine, “if it means I keep getting to see your cheeks flush.”
He’d noticed how your body was responding to him, whether or not you tried to hide it. Your face burned again, sinking further into the booth behind you in slight embarrassment.
“Well, it doesn’t help that I’m on a date with an attractive man who’s feeding me tiramisu. I think that’s every woman’s dream.”
“So it’s working?” His face glowed in the candlelight, a smirk on his face but a subtle vulnerability behind his eyes.
You knew what he was implying, but wanted to regain some of the power you’d lost by being so flustered. “Maybe.”
“That’s not good enough for me. I need a yes.” He needed confirmation that you were on the same page.
“And what exactly am I saying yes to?” A sip of wine ran down your throat as you awaited his response.
“To letting me walk you home after this,” Harry stated bluntly, scanning your face for your reaction. You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, but you held your composure, leaning back casually against the booth behind you as you pretended to mull it over. You already knew what you wanted.
“Alright, Harry,” you smirked, bringing the wine glass to your lips once more, “let’s see where the night takes us.”
- - - - - - - - - - 
“God, it’s freezing out here,” you groaned, dodging patches of ice. You were nearly home, your apartment building visible up the street.
Harry had grabbed your hand under the guise of keeping it warm a few minutes ago, something you were grateful for now as you gripped it tightly, trying to navigate the snow-covered ground in heels with little traction. He’d offered to call an Uber, but you wanted some more time with him without a driver listening in on your conversation.
As you approached the building, your imagination ran with thoughts of getting him upstairs, into your apartment, into your living room… 
Before you could get too far, you were at the front door. Your free hand patted over the pockets of your jacket to ensure that you had your keys and found them in your left pocket.
“I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N,” Harry turned to face you, not letting go of your hand. “I’d love to do this again, sometime, if you’d be interested.”
A slight flush now graced his face, glancing at the ground as he awaited your response.
“I had a lovely time. I’d love to see you again,” you confirmed quickly, not letting him worry for too long.
He was beaming now, allowing you to admire his prominent dimples. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but smile right back at the sight.
“There’s that beautiful smile again,” he quipped. His free hand reached for your jaw, cradling it again as you both continued to grin at each other for a few moments. A silence fell upon you again, and Harry’s eyes searched yours for a second before flickering to your lips, which had slowly returned to a resting state. As he moved his gaze back up, your eyes gleamed with the reflections of Christmas lights and were swimming with the need for more contact with him. He inhaled slowly, nervously, before exhaling sharply. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded quickly, gripping his collar to pull him closer before his mouth met yours. Electricity sparked between the two of you, his luscious lips colliding with yours over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss started slow, but quickly became deeper, more desperate, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you close to him. Your hands searched for solace, moving from his collar to his cheeks before lightly running through the hair at the back of his neck.
He tore his lips away from yours but didn’t stray far, pressing his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You could see both of your small pants in the air as they fogged due to the cold. A small smile played on each of your lips, and you just knew your lipstick was half-gone because you could definitely see some of it on Harry.
“You know,” you pulled away, straightening your stance confidently, “I have a bottle of wine upstairs if you’d like to help me drink it.”
Harry grinned. “I would love to.”
part 2!
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tedwardremus · 5 months ago
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James, married with a kid of his own, wants his best friend to find his happily ever after, too, so he makes Sirius a dating profile. Sirius never uses it willingly.
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erodasfishtacos · 1 month ago
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You Belong With Me | pilot!h |
Prompt: YN and Harry are enemies until they’re not. YN doesn’t need another relationship but neither does Harry. It doesn’t go smoothly.
Word Count: 19k+
Warnings: discussion of miscarriage
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—-—
It isn’t love.
At least not a first.
YN cannot tell you the moment she fell in love with him.
However, she can tell you the moment that she knew.
-
YN had never had a casual hookup, she’d always been in committed relationships, and had pretty vanilla sex that almost always took place in a bedroom without much excitement.
For a long while, she never thought anything of it and deduced that maybe she just was not one of the people who had a wild adventurous sex life or was bold - it was just fine with her boyfriend in the past, it was never anything to write home about.
She definetly never thought that she would find out that she did in fact have a wild side at work of all places.
YN reveled in not rocking the boat, she’d never do anything unprofessional at work, and she was always one of the best employees - some whispered that she was a kissass or a try hard, YN just wanted to do a good job and hope that most people liked her.
YN had just gotten out of her longest relationship so far - she’d been with Noah since her first year of college and had broken it off after nearly six years of being together just about five months into her new job.
It wasn’t working out any longer, if they were honest, they hadn’t been working out for quite sometime.
YN doesn’t know exactly when she had fallen out of love with Noah but she had.
It was a rocky breakup.
They wanted different things.
YN wants a ring.
Noah didn’t want to get married.
Even though it wasn’t the worst breakup ever, YN really was struggling with all the stress it had put on her because her whole life had changed now that she was a flight attendant.
She had to let Noah keep their two dogs which really felt like she gave away custody because he could be home every night to take care of them while YN was never home for more than a few nights at a time.
Noah had owned the house they lived in which meant YN moved into an apartment that wasn’t that bad but it really wasn’t anything special, it didn’t really matter because she wasn’t home often enough and packed boxes lay untouched for a long time.
YN decided that being single was best right now, it would be near impossible to find a relationship that would work with her hectic hours and she wasn’t going on a dating app to have mediocre sex.
It only takes one person to flip her whole life around.
And that is a fucking understatement.
-
It officially marked her seventh month at the company and her second of being single - both were going somewhat well in her eyes.
Her parents wanted her to find someone, wasting no time in pestering her because they wanted her to have a wedding, to give them grandchildren.
Honestly, YN’s has not been looking.
At first, the breakup with Noah went fine, pleasant even but just a few weeks ago, it had turned completely sour after Noah had told her she wasn’t able to visit their two dogs anymore.
When YN was home, she’d swing by at least once a week to spend some time with her two fur babies whether in his backyard or taking them to the local park for a hike.
However, he’s found a new girlfriend and has stated that it’s no longer a good idea for her to come see the dogs but also said she’s not allowed to take them either which means she has completely lost them.
Noah: It’s nothing personal. I just don’t want my new girlfriend getting the wrong idea, you know? Sorta a buzzkill to have my ex and me sharing dogs like they’re kids or something. I hope you understand, maybe I can send pics
“YN, hello?” Her friend Elaina waves her hand in front of her cellphone screen to break her gaze from Noah’s text message.
“Sorry,” YN mumbles as she locks her phone and puts it on airplane mode.
They were waiting in the employee area for their flight to be ready, a little lounge that was a bit too humid and the coffee was always out.
“I was saying that today is Pilot Styles’ first day with Paradise Airlines after moving from Coastal,” Elaina explains to YN and the few other women that were huddled on the worn couches.
YN’s brow furrows at that, “Am I supposed to know who that is?”
She had heard rumors that a new pilot would be joining their team, be their captain as Paradise Airlines were unlike other companies - they tended to keep crews together on the same flights to build a good coworking relationship.
All the girls look at her like she had a second head, Justine speaking up first, “How do you not know who he is?”
YN doesn’t quite know how to answer that, shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t remember anyone ever saying anything about that captain to me. Why is it a big deal that he is changing to our airline?”
Perry jumps in, excited that she gets to spill some gossip, “Well, we’re surprised you don’t know him because of the amount of shit that the stewardess’ bitch about him. It’s a big deal that he’s coming to our airline because every attendant I know hates him.”
YN wasn’t expecting that for the reason that he was so well known.
“I mean most pilots are a bit grouchy,” YN responds as she sips her coffee that has enough espresso to get her through the next ten hours, “They all seem a little miserable if I’m honest.”
Elaina laughs at that, leaning forward, “He’s not just a bit grouchy. He’s a straight up asshole. He’s probably the most unfriendly, unwelcoming person that I’ve ever met and I’ve heard from others that it’s the same. He treats everybody like they’re less than and is demanding, like everybody needs to bow down for him.”
“You’ve worked with him before?” YN asks Elaina, it sounds like she was speaking from personal experience and there was still annoyance in her tone as she recounts how she knows the captain.
“Unfortunately, I worked at Coastal Airlines for a few years before I moved here. Styles is probably around forty years old so he’s been here quite a while now. I didn’t have many experiences with him but I swear he made at least one attendant cry each flight.”
“Did he make you cry?” YN responds because that seemed to be what Elaina was insinuating as her friend picked at the foam of her cheap coffee cup.
“Once,” Elaina nods with a pursed smile, “I accidentally turned off the seatbelt sign right before major turbulence which was totally on me but Harry lost his shit on me, he wrote me a formal warning, told me that if i can’t do something as simple as button control that I should be working somewhere ‘more my speed’, and when I started crying - he fucking laughed at me for and told me I was being childish.”
“Maybe he was just having a bad day?” YN tries to justify because why would someone be so cruel for no reason, it didn’t make sense unless he was perpetually miserable.
Justine finally jumps into the conversation, “He has a bad day everyday. He usually sits down at the hotel bars for an hour or so after check-in. I’ve watched stewardess’ try to hit on him, get him to take them back to his room because even though he’s a dickhead, he’s fucking hot. A lot of the time, he just turns them down but sometimes he’ll toy with them. He’ll flirt, buy them a drink, and then laugh at them because they thought they had a chance with him.”
It’s official, YN already hates this Captain Styles, he sounds like a chauvinist pig and she hopes that she can just manage to keep a safe distance from him.
YN misses the social cues of the situation, she misses the way the other girls tense up, she misses the warning glances that they’re trying to silently give her, she misses the way their eyes widen at the doorway.
YN’s back was turned toward the door so she couldn’t see who walked in, didn’t even hear anyone, and shakes her head with a soft chuckle, “I don’t care how good looking Captain Styles is, he can fuck off if he thinks he can be an asshole to me. I’m not in the mood.”
And she was expecting some type of response from her fellow coworkers but instead they are absolute dead silence, sitting stock still, and looking down at their laps.
“Is that right?” A deep voice asks from behind her, it nearly sent chills down her spine at the tone, cool and collected but the sharp, authoritative edge was not going unnoticed by her.
YN squeezes her eyes shut for a long moment, already having a sinking feeling that it was none other than the captain, her new boss, behind her and had just heard her brave declaration.
She stands up, straightening out the pleats of her freshly ironed dress, and turns towards him.
YN feels her breathing stutter when she finally comes face to face with the man who no one has had anything good to say about and she feels a weird flip in her stomach.
They said he was hot.
But that really didn’t do any justice to the man standing in front of her.
He was hot, sure but he was devastatingly, intimidatingly handsome.
She’d never been so intimidated by someone based on their appearance alone, he was so beautiful that it was startling as he stared her down with a bored expression.
He was tall, lean but not in a scrawny way, it was obvious that he had lithe muscle on his body that was hidden away under his uniform, and said uniform fit him like an absolute glove.
Captain Styles had cropped brown curls with individual gray hairs scattered within, mostly near his temples which was the one of the only signs of his age, his eyes were a piercing green surrounding by dark lashes, and his lips were puffy, pouty, and currently in a frown.
YN realizes that he’s expecting a response and in that moment, despite his good looks, she decides that she’s not going to let herself be treated like shit because she has had enough of that from other men in her life lately.
She knows it’s only appropriate to apologize but she’s not going to grovel for his forgiveness, he could hate her because she already disliked him, and so she swallows her pride for the moment.
“I apologize, Captain Styles,” YN says clearly, not letting once ounce of anxiety slip into her tone, “That was inappropriate and uncalled for. It won’t happen again. I look forward to working with you.”
He narrows his eyes at her, studying her face and not letting the scowl leave his, its like he’s trying to look at her soul with how intent his stare is, and then he’s replying, “Unfortunately, I cannot say the same. It doesn’t seem like such a pleasure to work with you. However, I am hopeful you’re not as unpersonable with customers as you are with your superiors.”
YN’s has to stop herself from letting her mouth drop open at the harshness of his words, a ball of red hot fury beginning to build in her as she drops the faux smile from her face.
“I don’t think you have much room to talk about being unpersonable, Captain Styles,” YN tells him, making sure the words sound soft and just casual conversation even though it’s anything but - she can feel the eyes of her coworkers bulging at the confrontation.
Harry smiles brightly, his bright white teeth flashing almost dangerously at her words, “Even though it’s adorable, the attitude won’t last long. Not if you want to keep your job.”
YN doesn’t let that worry her, she could always find a job with another airline, there’s always a need and for some reason, she decides that she wants to pick a fight with this man when she’s never done something like this before.
“I’m good at my job and I’m friendly,” YN shrugs like she’s unbothered, she catches Harry’s fist clench tightly at his side in annoyance but it’s the only sign of it in his body, “I think you may be able to take some lessons from me because the latter seems pretty difficult for you, Captain.”
Harry’s eyes are dark, laser focused on her and no one else in the room, and her words don’t change his facial expression, he simply states to the room at large, “Change of plans for the flight to Heathrow,” He takes a minute to look at her name badge, “I would like Perry and YN to switch positions on today’s flight. The plane is boarding in fifteen minutes, please be prepared to board and prepare for takeoff.”
With that, he’s turning on his heel and striding right back out the door.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Elaina hisses as she smacks YN’s arm, “What the hell were you thinking?”
YN doesn’t really know what got into her, that man just brought something out in her that made her want to fight, to be a little be feisty, and get under his skin when no one else could.
“I wasn’t really,” YN admits with a nervous laugh, flopping back down on the sofa, “He’s just so arrogant, cocky. Men like that get on my nerves and I’m not going to let him treat me however he wants.”
“I have to say I’m relieved I’m no longer on cockpit duty but I’m sorry for you, it’s going to be a long flight,” Perry sighs as she sits up to throw her empty drink away.
Fuck.
“Of course,” YN shakes her head in annoyance, “Of course, he’s going to make me wait on him hand and foot now.”
“Depends, sometimes he really keeps to himself. Especially on the long flights but when he’s on a rampage, he’ll make the whole flight awful. Thanks for that,” Justine snorts but doesn’t actually seem that mad, like she knows YN is going to get the brunt of it.
“Lucky me,” YN responds sarcastically, it was about time they headed out to board.
Paradise had the nicest planes in the game, newest and most expensive, an average seat on board cost no less than a thousand dollars, and everyone had pods instead of normal seating.
It was for long flights, international which YN didn’t mind - she liked getting out of the country, sometimes she got to experience the cities for a day or so, not always.
The cockpit attendant was exactly what it sounded like, they were responsible for communicating with the pilots and then passing that message onto either the passengers or other employees.
They would ask the stewardess to check on things, give them drinks or prepare their food, and give them any updates that may be necessary for them to know.
Most flight attendants want the cockpit because it tended to be the easiest spot, didn’t have to deal with the unruly passengers much, didn’t have to be at their beck and call, and most pilots were pretty low maintances and kept communication to a minimum.
However, everyone seemed to want to face the customers for a ten hour flight than even have to talk to their pilot which wasn’t what YN had considered - it just shows how awful he is and she just subjected herself to it.
-
Takeoff is smooth, after a few minutes, Captain Styles’ voice filters through the intercoms where he discusses the flight, the weather, the time, and cursing altitude before wishing them a good trip.
He doesn’t bother YN until three hours in, pressing the button that signals to her that she is needed in the pit which she punches in the code and sticks her head in where Harry and his co-pilot are.
“Yes, Captain Styles?” YN uses her most professional tone because she truly wasn’t trying to get fired.
“Club soda with lemon,” Is all he responds without looking back, no please or courtesy - it was demand because he could.
“Yes sir,” YN has to make sure it doesn’t come out as sharply as she wants it, he’s already creating an itch under her skin, and its making her want to tell him off again.
She takes her time preparing the drink, no rush to be back which she’s hoping annoys him, and when she steps back into the cockpit, attempting to hand him the beverage - he doesn’t reach for it.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’d actually prefer a raspberry la croiax,” He again doesn’t make any effort to look at her and she swears she can see the slightest smirk at the corner of his lips.
“I’ll take the club soda,” The other man shrugs, taking it off of her hands so that it doesn’t go to waste, oblivious to the obvious tension in the small space.
YN knows that he’s doing it just to fuck with her, its unprofessional and immature but that shouldn’t surprise her with how much people have been warning her about him, right?
She again drags her feet and inhales deeply before reentering, hands out with the drink, and this time Harry reaches for it - she tries not to startle when their fingers brush momentarily, one of his rings bumping her.
“Miss. YN, I know I switched you position last moment,” Harry hums like he’s thoughtful, it actually makes her more irritated than when he’s blunt and cold, it like he’s playing a game right now, “But I think cockpit attendant is most likely the easiest job on this plane. If you cannot even get beverages in a timely manner than maybe you need some additional training or an even easier job.”
YN is absolutely staring daggers into the back of his head, she knows that this is usually when the other women cry or back away with their tail between their legs but YN wasn’t going to do either of those things.
She was going to kill him with kindness.
“Abolstuely, Captain Styles. I apologize for any inconvenience, I know you have such a hard job and I’m making it difficult. I’ll try better in then future, thank you for your feedback,” The fake enthusiasm is dripping into her voice and it’s obvious how much acting is put in to her demeanor.
She preens a bit when she realizes that it catches him at least a little of guard, his smirk faltering for a moment before his eyes narrow again and his nostrils are flaring, “Get out my pit.”
And YN has to contain her giggle, overjoyed that she’d managed to irk him, and it seems to do the trick as he doesn’t request anymore beverages for the rest of the flight and doesn’t interact with her nearly at all.
-
YN can at least give it to Captain Styles that it was a smooth flight, as they were landing and finally able to exit the aircraft - all the girls looked at her with wide eyes, most likely expecting it to look like she had cried recently but she hadn’t.
It was a tradition to dine together when they landed in a new country since Paradise made them a team and always paired them together, they were also at the same hotel which worked out for them to hang out.
Elaina, YN, Perry, and Justine were all sat in the hotel restaurant gossiping about different attendants and recounting atrocious customers when out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry walk into.
He had changed from his uniform into a pair of loose black slacks and fitted black t-shirt as he headed straight toward the bar, he didn’t glance around to see his surroundings and slid onto a stool.
“He has no right to be that attractive when he’s that much of an asshole,” Justine grumbles, crossing her arms dramatically, “Almost every pilot sleeps around. Why is he the only one who doesn’t?”
“You don’t think he’s ever slept with one?” YN asks curiously because she doesn’t put it above Harry to do one night stands and then act like the girl didn’t even exist the next day.
“I think he was married at some point,” Perry shrugs, “And from what I know he didn’t cheat on his wife like most pilot’s do. I don’t know what happened but Brandy said she heard Harry tell one of his copilots that he was single a year back or something. So they must have gotten a divorce.”
That surprised YN, she knew that many people who worked for airlines and travel constantly tended to do quite a bit of sleeping around because they weren’t home often with their significant others.
There was a lot of cheating in this line of work.
So once again, it did throw YN through a loop that he wasn’t known as one of the serial cheaters like most pilots are - that’s not saying he didn’t cheat on his wife, he could have done it much more secretly but it’s hard to keep it that much under wraps.
“I’d divorce him too. I can’t imagine he treated his wife too well,” Justine adds in with a sip of her margarita and a chuckle, “Despite how handsome and charming he can be, he seems like a bit of a loner.”
YN was not going to feel bad for him.
The rest of the dinner goes well, Harry doesn’t turn to look at them once but he has to know they’re there - Perry and Justine got a bit rowdy towards the end of the night and their giggles were echoing through the room.
When they file out, YN glances at Harry which she doesn’t know why, and is startled to see that he’s staring at her through the mirror opposite the bar, only for a moment before he purposefully looks away.
-
“Fucking shit,” YN curses loudly in the empty bathroom, she’d only been back from dinner for not more than fifteen minutes and was about to hop in the shower when dropped her hairdryer right on the top of her foot as she unpacked her toiltery bag.
It was already showing signs of discoloration and there was a nice sized abrasion across the top - it was absolutely throbbing and the shower was forgotten.
She had showered before the flight and wasn’t too dirty which meant she was just going to wait until the morning.
Instead she slips into her pajamas which consisted of a plain black tank top and a pair of cotton shorts that had sushi rolls all over them - a gift from Elaina after a girls night of bad sushi which resulted in food poisoning in Japan.
YN had a bad habit of walking around barefoot, it didn’t matter whether it was her house, the woods, the hotel hallways - she’d grown up in the country and it was just a habit to not wear shoes when she didn’t have too.
She grabs the ice bucket from the countertop to go fill it with ice, she could wrap some up in a towel and ice her foot - hopefully to prevent it from swelling too much.
They had a flight back to the states tomorrow and it was another ten hour trip, they were required to wear a specific kitten-heel shoe and she knew a swollen foot would feel awful in it.
It was nearly eleven at night, she didn’t think there would be many people patrolling the hallway, and wandered out of her room down the corridor - following the signs that guided her to the ic machine.
She passes the elevators and continues down the row of room when she hears it beep and the heavy doors open, she doesn’t bother looking back because she’s sure it’s just someone going to their room.
Of course that’s not the fucking case though.
“It’s pretty disgusting to be walking around barefoot in a hotel,” A voice from behind her states with clear disdain in his low tone, “Then you get into a clean bed with filthy feet?”
YN internally groans because of course it’s him.
“Mind your own business, Captain Styles. We’re off the clock,” YN retorts back with more bite than she’s had all day as she continues to walk albeit at a slower than usual pace.
“Why are you limping? You weren’t limping earlier at the resturaunt,” Harry asks pointedly, his voice hasn’t softened and it’s like he is literally demanding the answers out of her, not asking.
Huh.
He was paying attention to her earlier.
Interesting.
“I dropped my hairdryer on my foot. I’m going to get ice for it,” YN can’t help the low but audible gasp that leaves her mouth when she steps down and a sharp pain shoots up through her already tender foot but then she feels the ice bucket being ripped out of her hand, “Hey! What the hell-“
“Quiet the fuck down, will you?” Harry hissed as he steps in front of her, cutting off her path, there was still quite a long way to go until the ice dispenser and she’d like to get this over with so she can rest her foot, “Go back to your room. I’ll bring the ice to you. What room number are you?”
He doesn’t sound like he’s doing it because he feels bad for her, his tone is making it seem like she’s being annoying and an inconvenience and if he gets her the ice then she won’t be such a bother to him - his facial expression isn’t saying anything different than that either.
“I can get my own ice,” YN tries to reach for the handle but he jerks it away childishly.
“I didn’t ask you whether you could or not. With how long it took you to bring me a fucking drink by the time you hobble back to your hotel room, the sun will be rising. Don’t make me ask again, what room number are you?” Harry grits out because he’s definitely annoyed but YN doesn’t know whether he has another state of being besides that.
“Three twenty seven,” YN mumbles defeatedly, she wasn’t going to stand in the hallway and argue any longer about a stupid bucket of ice, it pains her but she manages to say, “Thank you.”
Harry stares at her for a moment longer, frown etched onto his face, and he looks like he’s about to say something nice but then his eyebrows furrow once again and says, “Be more careful. I don’t want to have to deal with a new stewardess because you can’t walk and put some fucking shoes on.”
Then he’s sauntering off without waiting for her response and she can’t help but just look at his broad back for a moment in disbelief at what an asshole he is but there is at least some type of kindness underneath….maybe she’s imagining things because she’s tired and in pain.
There’s a knock on her door a few minutes later, she thought he’d be back with the ice sooner and she started to believe that he was purposely taking long because of what she did with his drinks on the flight earlier.
So when she swings open the door, she already has a major attitude as she snatches the bucket of ice out of his hand and scowls at him, “I know I took a long time with your drinks earlier but I’m actually in pain, its really rude of you to -“
Harry extends his hand, showing that he has a bottle of aspirin in it, “I went down to the little shop in the lobby and got this for you, didn’t know if you traveled with it but should help the swelling and pain for tomorrow’s flight.”
And YN actually feels bad because that was nice of him to do and so she sheepishly takes it, “I’m sorry I know we got off on the wrong foot. I just thoug-“
“I’m not going to be your fucking friend, save the apology or whatever you’re about to say. I do not care,” Harry shakes his head as his hands go back to his sides, “I’m looking out for my crew, nothing more.”
YN thinks she’s starting to see past his tough guy exterior even if she’s only known him for a few hours at this point.
“You bring every stewardess aspirin?” YN shoots back with a raised eyebrow.
Harry grits his teeth, jaw clenching, “I haven’t met one as clumsy or unbearable as you before.”
“It’s an honor to be the most unbearable one you’ve met in all your years of being a pilot,” YN flutters her eyelashes at him but there’s so much tension between them that she can almost taste it, she’d never felt this with someone before, “I look forward to living up to my title.”
It surprises her when Harry steps forward, their chests nearly touching, and he is looking down at her, “I’m not someone you want to fuck with, do you understand me? Listen to your little friends when they tell you about me, it’s all true.”
“I’m not scared of you,” YN shakes her head defiantly, crossing arms and bumping his chest just barely in the process but he doesn’t move back yet.
“I never said anything about being scared of me,” Harry responds almost conversationally, if he leaned forward just a bit more their lips would be connecting and….
And what the fuck.
No, YN, No.
“I don’t understand why you’re such a miserable asshole,” YN responds tightly, trying to reign in her thoughts, “But you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to make me fucking bow to you.”
Harry doesn’t like that, not one bit because he nearly snarls, and bites out, “You’re not going to last long on my crew. I’ll make fucking sure of that. I won't fire you but by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to quit.”
YN finally snaps at that, this arguement clearly going no where, and she would have thrown the aspirin back at him but she actually did need it so as she reaches for the door handle to close it, she makes sure to let him know, “Fuck you.”
Harry's face transforms into a sickeningly sweet smile, dimples popping in his cheeks as he steps out of the room and into the hallway, “It’s been a lovely first day working with you, Miss YN. If you want to be intimidating, you might want to try it when you’re not wearing pajama shorts with sushi rolls on them.”
And with that, he’s disappearing down the hall.
-
As expected, the next day YN’s foot was swollen which made getting her feet into the kitten heels exceptionally hard this morning, her foot was already pulsating in pain by the time they got to the airport.
When they’re in the staff room, checking any updates for the flight, there’s a collective sigh of relief when positions are posted before they all look over at YN, she doesn’t even have to look to know what they’re thinking.
“You really pissed him off,” Elaina states as she frowns at her friend, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Styles put the same attendant on cockpit for two flights in a row.”
YN was relieved in all honesty because she was going to be able to sit more than the others and she’d rather not be on her feet for hours on end with her bruising in the just the very beginning of the healing phase.
“It’s because I’m not going to take his bullshit,” YN responds with another sip of her strong coffee, “I can see why he makes people cry, he’s a jerk but I'm not going to let him win with me. He gets on my last nerve so I’m going to make sure to get on his.”
“And if he fires you from his crew?” Perry asks and it’s clear that she’s trying to tell YN to cool it with the attitude because they really don’t want to see their friends lose her job.
YN almost spills about the conversation her and Harry had last night, how he doesn’t want anybody new on his flights which makes her somewhat confident that he won't get rid of her easily but she wasn't going to tell her friends about that interaction.
Instead she tries to come off as nonchalant as possible when she shrugs her shoulders, “So be it. I’m not going to kiss his ass for this job.”
Elaina and Justine are giving her the same disapproving looks like they don’t want to see the Rama unfold which will most likely end in YN getting the boot as it was much easier to replace a flight attendant than a pilot.
-
It must be tradition for Harry to come into the staff room before the flights to let them know that boarding is happening soon and if there’s anything that they need to be aware of.
When he walks in today, he notices how the others straighten up and sit more proper than they were before, giving the captain their full attention and YN can’t help but roll her eyes.
She knows it's outwardly rude but she doesn’t put her phone away when he begins to speak about the potential weather hazards and turbulence that may occur on the upcoming flight.
YN wants to smile because she can feel the daggers that Harry is boring into her as he speaks and she blatantly lets him know how uninterested she is in what he has to say.
After he is done speaking, he asks if there’s any questions or anything that the staff needs and they all respond pretty much in unison saying ‘ no Captain’ everyone except YN.
YN has never, not once been so insubordinate at work, she fucking thrived on being a model employee and for the life of her, she could not explain the brattiness that Harry brought out in her.
She was having fun making him angry and she’s never been that type of person, it was like she was also enjoying his attention even though it was negative but YN wouldn’t admit that.
It seems pretty easy to rile him up, get him on-edge, his bullshit tolerance was seemingly low which made it easy for YN to succeed.
“Miss YN, I’d like to see you privately. Now,” Harry orders with no budge, he hasn’t raised his voice but the words are distinct and pronounced.
“She’s just having a bad day,” Elaina, always the good friend, tries to justify because she’s definitely afraid that YN is about to get fired, “She doesn’t usu-“
“Did I ask you?” Harry snaps at the women, his eyes fiery now with confrontation, “Did I ask for your opinion? I think I can do my job just fine without your input, stewardess.”
He managed to make the job title seem less than or demeaning in the way it came out but Elaina’s eyes go wide in surprise and she instantly quiets back down.
“If you find it necessary to try to tell me how to manage my crew, you can start looking for another airline to work for,” Harry threatens but his gaze is already back on YN, her heart absolutely sinks when she hears Elaina start to sniffle to hold back tears.
That was the normal effect that he had on others, a few really harsh and threatening words would make them cry because they were scared of him and his wrath.
YN pats Elaina’s thigh, in a silent ‘thank you’ for trying to stick up for her but she pushes herself off the couch, quickly hiding the grimace when her foot reminds her it’s injured and grabs the handle of her heavy luggage.
“Fifteen minutes,” Harry tells the rest of them before he’s going back out the door but this time with YN in tow, again slower than usual as she’s trying to manage this bruised foot in heels.
Harry doesn’t take her far, just down the hall to an empty conference room and shuts the door - she wants to smile with how angry he seems to be but she also hates how handsome he was when he was like this.
His jaw was clenched but it showed off how defined and cut it was, his puffy lips were pouty and a bit swollen from biting them, and he made his shoulders as broad as possible like he was trying to puff up in defense.
“I think it’s a fucking record,” Harry almost growls as he crosses his arms, putting his hat on the table, “I don’t think I’ve ever despised a stewardess as quickly as you. How have you gotten anywhere in life with that spoiled attitude?”
“I could ask the same,” YN raises her eyebrow because he doesn’t have room to talk on attitude, “I’m not normally like this. You just bring out the absolute worst in me.”
“Good to know I have such an effect on you,” Harry smiles smugly, his teeth gleaming and those same dimples popping, “That I can get you so worked up.”
It definitely had a double meaning laced in those words.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” YN laughs like he’s told the funniest joke, “You’re not as great as you think you are. I’m not impressed.”
And bingo.
That must strike a nerve with him.
YN can already tell nobody ever tells him that.
His teasing smile drops into something stormier, “Cut the bullshit now. When I’m talking, you listen and pay attention, you’re not some silly little teenager who can’t take a moment away from her phone. I know what you’re doing. I’m not going to be disrespected so blatantly in front of my crew.”
YN’s insides sorta twist at that because when he lays it out like that, it was really fucking rude of her and just because they’re having issues doesn’t give her the right to be so outwardly disrespectful in front of the crew.
She actually means it when she says, “I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”
Harry’s eyebrows raise like he’s surprised that she sincerely apologized but it relaxes him a bit after the apology, shoulders dropping just the slightest, and YN’s mind starts to drift on what his broad shoulders look like underneath the perfectly pressed uniform…
No.
Absolutely fucking not.
But god, even if YN couldn’t stand his personality, she really couldn’t deny how fucking attracted she was to him, it would be hard not to with how beautiful he is.
It helps to know that he doesn’t sleep with people he works with which means that she could fully keep this a fantasy.
“See you can be an obedient little puppy,” Harry lets the condescending tone lace through his words.
YN has to clench her fists by her side to avoid smacking the ever living shit out of him.
“Go fuck yourself,” YN hisses because he’s now managed to completely piss her off, “I take back my god damn apology. You absolute douchebag.”
Harry smiles again, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights because he got the reaction he wanted out of her, and watches in amusement when YN grabs her luggage handle and though she can’t storm out of the room as she’d like with her foot, she exits without another word.
When she’s a bit down the hall, she stops, leaning against the wall as removes her shoe, massaging at the tender skin that was already pulsing from being in the heel.
It felt good to have it off for a moment but of course, Harry decides to come the same way down the hall which makes YN cut her rest short and slip back on her heel without looking at him.
As she starts back down the hallway, almost like yesterday night, the handle of her suitcase is pried from her hand by none other than Harry as he strolls down the hall, “What the fuc-“
“Keep your voice down,” Harry chides sharply, taking the duffle off her shoulder and swinging it over hers, “We’ll never make it to board on time with you limping around like this. C’mon, I don’t like being late and you’re going to make me.”
YN’s argument dies on her tongue because it’s actually very nice of him to be lugging her suitcase and duffel which they don’t say anything else but when they get inside the plane - Harry tucks them away for her too.
She’s relieved none of her friends are on board yet because she knew they would have a ton of questions if they saw what just happened.
And YN would not have a fucking clue how to explain it.
-
The next three months go on basically the same since being on the same flight crew with Harry, they would constantly go at it before flights, Harry would drag her into a private room and they’d argue a bit before he’d take her luggage to the terminal for her.
They never interacted at the hotel restaurant or bar but they happened to bump into each other a lot as YN made it a habit to get ice at night around the same time and they both never mentioned how Harry was magically coming up to his room at that time and would walk to the ice machine and back to her room together.
As time went on, the night walks with Harry, there wasn’t always much conversation, occasionally bitching about an unruly passenger or an idiot staff member, quite a bit of jabbing and poking at each other but it didn’t seem so filled with hatred anymore.
It wasn’t a pleasant relationship at all, they were both pretty awful to each other and YN typically ended every conversation they had with a ‘fuck you’ or some variation of it but now there were some not so hostile moments mixed in between them.
They weren’t friends, not even cordial really but YN knew that she had a closer relationship to Harry than anyone else on the crew and she’d had kept that hidden from her friends.
She didn’t want them to get the wrong impression, she knew they would jump to the conclusion that they were hooking up or that she liked him in that way - it was better to keep it on the down low even if there really wasn’t much to report.
It had been a late flight in, everyone had eaten one of the lackluster meals on the plane, and headed up to their hotel room the moment they landed to go to sleep.
YN was on the same boat, not bothering to get the unnecessary ice tonight, and she’s just stepped into her room when her phone buzzes with a text message from her friend back home.
Micah: What a dick. I didn’t even know he was in a new relationship, let alone that serious. [image attachment]
YN opens the conversation to a screenshot from Noah’s instagram, she’d blocked him after he refused to let her see the dogs anymore, and it was a picture of his most recent post.
He was holding a girl she didn’t recognize, her legs wrapped around Noah’s hips and her left hand held up to their face where they’re kissing, and a prominent diamond sat on her finger.
The caption was something sickeningly sweet about her saying ‘yes’ and how excited he is for the rest of their lives together.
They hadn’t even been broken up for an entire year yet.
One of the main reasons that they broke up in the first place was because after six years, YN was ready to settle down and get married but he said that he just didn’t want that right now and he wasn’t sure if he ever really wanted to get married.
It turns out that he just really didn’t want to marry her.
God, she was over him but the rejection still fucking stung.
She deletes the photo from the conversation so she doesn’t have to look at it any longer and she can’t go back to hyperfixate on it later but she felt like a bus just hit her suddenly as she sat in her empty hotel room.
YN wipes her eyes roughly, refusing to let herself cry over it, and instead, she does something she typically never does while she’s traveling for work - she slips on her shoes and heads right down to the hotel bar to get drunk.
The flight the next day wasn’t until noon so she didn’t have to roll out of bed super early and she just wanted to feel numb right now which alcohol had a great way of doing.
It was a bit busy for a weeknight, quite a few businessmen scattered around the lounge, a few couples, and a few lone people like herself when she sits down on a bar stool and orders Long Island.
YN wasn’t a light weight per se but it really didn’t take her much to be feeling good and by her third one, she was feeling warm and fuzzy, not as awful as she felt an hour earlier.
She was drunk, not to the point of blacking out or being belligerent but enough that she was ready to curl into bed and have a night long sleep and pray not to have a nasty hangover.
YN’s just ordered her fourth, a bit surprised that the bartender allowed it but she wasn’t showing any sign of being smashed, and then someone slid up beside her, close to where their shoulders brushed.
It was stupid but momentarily she wished it was Harry, thought it would be him but she frowns when it's one of the businessmen from the lounge that is grinning at her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks even though he can see that she has a completely full one right in front of her.
“I’m good, thank you,” YN tells him without much kindness in her tone to let him know that she’s not interested in whatever he wants from her but that doesn’t seem to deter her.
“C’mon, just one? It’d be a crime not to buy a drink for someone so gorgeous,” He lays it on hard, he wasn’t sitting and he was too much in her space for her liking.
“I said no,” YN replies firmly, it was obvious in her body language that he was making her uncomfortable but he really didn’t seem to care.
“Are you married? What’s the big fuckin’ deal? I don’t see a ring on your finger, just have a drink-“ The man pushes, angrier as he realizes that he’s being rejected, YN ignores the wedding band on his finger.
“Is there an issue here?” A startling loud voice states from behind them and YN slumps in relief when she realizes that it was Harry.
“Who the fuck are you?” The businessman retorts, puffing up his chest and posturing like he was ready for a fight.
“Her husband,” Harry lies easily, he’s not as worked up as the man he’s confronted but he doesn't need to be - his presence and the way he holds himself is ten times more intimidating than the other man.
The businessman looks between the two of them before rolling his eyes, snatching his freshly ordered beer off the counter and going back to the table with his friends.
“Thanks for that,” YN tells him as she goes to take a sip of her drink.
Harry doesn’t allow her, intercepting the glass and putting it back on the bar, “You’re drunk. I think you’ve had enough to drink. It’s time for you to get to bed.”
YN frowns at the full drink, she can’t help the spoiled whine in the back of her throat, “But I want it.”
Harry surprisingly lets out a soft laugh, his hand coming to her shoulder and his thumb rubs a circle for a moment before he’s pulling back - realizing what he did but doesn’t lose his smile, “I know you do, seem to be really enjoying them but I think it’s time for you to get back to your room.”
“Mm, a few more sips,” YN coos which isn’t her normal behavior but she was drunk, she couldn’t be blamed for being a bit flirty with the prettiest man she’d ever seen, “S’good and sugary, make me forget.”
Harry’s brow furrows, “That’s an awful reason to drink. What are you trying to forget?”
YN shakes her head as she begins to pull out her wallet, grabbing a few bills but she stops when Harry directly hands the bartender enough to cover it.
“You didn’t have to do that,” YN mumbles because she doesn’t know why he was being nice to her.
“I know I didn’t, come on,” Harry replies, he gently holds her shoulder as she clumsily gets off the bar still and when she stumbles, Harry wraps his arm around her waist but just barely touching her to guide her, “You’re a sloppy drunk, aren’t you?”
YN pouts at that as they leave the bar, “I don’t drink a lot. I don’t think I’ve gotten drunk in the last year or two.”
“Why now?” Harry asks as he presses the button up when YN starts to tilt - the hand on her back finally moves to her hip, gripping her with more pressure to keep her standing.
YN snorts unattractively, her eyes were getting bleary and heavy, she was getting tired which happened when she drank liquor.
“Like you care why I’m sad,” YN scoffs as they’re stepping into the lift, he leans forward to press the number to their floor.
Harry pauses for a moment, he doesn’t tell her he cares but instead repeats more firmly, “Tell me what’s going on. I’m sick of asking.”
“My ex just got engaged,” YN whispers and fuck, she feels tears begin to prick at her eyes as she say it out loud.
“He’s your ex for a reason, why are you upset?” Harry responds but he doesn’t seem judgemental but curious.
“I was with him for six years. We broke up two months into this job. He said he didn’t want to be tied down, he didn’t think he ever wanted to get married, and he didn’t want me waiting around for a ring and babies,” YN swallows as she wipes at her cheeks, mascara was definitely starting to rub, “Less than a year later, he’s already proposed to a girl he barely knows. I don’t know why I wasn’t good enough for him. I was a good partner.”
Harry’s silent as the elevator goes up, his hand doesn’t leave her hip even though she’s not swaying but she appreciates it's ground her and makes everything seem a little less worse.
“I’m sorry,” Harry finally says and he doesn’t sound like he’s being condescending - it actually sounds like he means it, “I cannot imagine what that feels like to go through. I can’t imagine why he would do that. You’re smart, intelligent-“
“Don’t act like you don’t hate me, Harry. Just to make me feel better,” YN butts in because she doesn’t need him to butter her up when she knows he doesn’t mean those things.
“I don’t hate you,” Harry’s voice is deep but quieter than it usually is, “You get on my nerves nearly every fuckin’ second of the day but that doesn’t mean that I don’t see how smart, quick-witted, beautiful you are.”
YN bites her lip because she didn’t realize that she needed to hear that, it’s been a long while since she’s got a compliment, and in about the year leading up to ending her relationship with Noah - he’d never say anything nice like this.
“Thank you, I-I haven’t heard anything nice like that in a while,” YN tells him as she continues to swipe away tears and look down at her feet because she can feel Harry’s eye watching her and she’s embarrassed she’s responding this way.
“You should be hearing those things everyday,” He sighs and squeezes the plush of her hip kindly, guiding her again when the elevator at or door opens, “I know it’s a bit ironic considering our style of communication but I do mean those things.”
YN tells him her room number and they begin walking down the left of the hallway, her mind is fuzzy but feels a little more clear after their conversation, “It’s fine, I’m just as bad and I started it for the most part. I don’t expect to hear those things from you.”
As they wind up at her door, Harry steps back and puts his hands into his pockets, “I should be nicer to you but I hate to admit I enjoy getting under your skin and making you angry. You’re quite pretty when you're pissed at me.”
And YN’s mind goes to insecurity right away because she knows that Harry doesn’t like her even though he said he doesn’t hate her, he has no reason to be this nice to her and even though they’ve had moments through the past months of niceness …
She doesn’t know what makes her blurt this out and she wishes she could swallow it as soon as it came out of her mouth.
“Are you trying to be all nice to sleep with me or something? Then you’ll be a dick again once you get what you want?” YN’s words are just a bit slurred but hold a somewhat curious, somewhat accusing tone as she watches him.
The small smile that had been on his face for their conversation drops and in its place was a frigid scowl and before he even spoke, she knew that she had offended him but the way his shoulders tense up and he takes another step back from her.
“You know what’s fucked up? I finally try to put myself out there just the littlest bit for you and all you can think is that I want to fuck you? You think that lowly of me?” Harry’s soft whispers were gone and back was the cold, emotionless bravado that echoed off the empty hallway walls, “That I was just trying to use you?”
“I-Harry, I didn-no, I didn’t,” YN begins to stumble because unlike their usual back and forth arguing that dissipates in meaningless banter, this wasn’t that - she had actually upset him and that was never her intention.
“Save it your bullshit apology,” Harry replies to cut her off, shaking his head like he’s disappointed in how idiotic he’s been, “I’m done trying if this is where it fucking gets me. I knew it wasn’t fucking worth it.”
And with that, he’s storming away from her without another word and he doesn’t look back as she stares after him dumbfounded at what the fuck just happened.
The flight the next day home, Harry puts her back on the back crew which was the further position away from the cockpit who dealt with the consumers in the back of the aircraft.
Her friends congratulate her on getting away from the pit because they didn’t know anything about how Harry and hers relationship has developed but all she could feel was anxiety about how much she’d fucked up.
He doesn’t come into the staff room before takeoff and is already in the pit when the stewardess’ board, YN doesn’t see him until the crew is heading off the plane.
Harry makes it clear he’s looking for no interaction as he hustles through the terminal with long strides.
-
They have a three day break and during that time, YN isn’t even thinking about Noah and his new engagement that originally had her so torn up in the first place.
All she could think about was Harry.
She had a wishful thinking that the time off would heal the wounds and they’d be back to normal but she knew that wasn’t the case when Harry put her again on the back crew.
She did not see him throughout the flight once again and stayed behind while the stewardess got off the aircraft when they landed which meant YN knew she wasn’t going to see him.
He makes a habit of this for the next three flights as well before YN can’t take it anymore, knowing that he’s actively avoiding her because she’d hurt his feelings.
He didn’t come to the hotel bar, he didn’t meet her in the hallway for their ice run, and it was more devastating than YN though which made her come to the frightening revelation that she might have a crush on the man she’d been mostly enemies with for over six months now.
She missed interacting with him, she missed fighting with him.
She missed the way his jaw clenched when she made him irritated, the way he looked like he wanted to reach out and manhandle her when she purposely ignored him when he called for her on flights and he had to come out of the pit, or the way he would squeeze her wrist lightly sometimes as a thank you when she would bring him a drink.
YN didn’t want to admit to herself that she felt something, maybe it wasn’t full blown feelings but just a smidge of fondness for the grumpy bastard.
And maybe part of it was that she felt special, Harry didn’t soften for anyone else but her and even though she didn’t tell her friends about it - she knew they were suspicious that YN was constantly on pit duty or that she hasn’t gotten fired after how sassy she can be to her captain.
After the fourth flight of no sign of communication, YN decides that she needs to take matters into her own hands because she didn’t know what she wanted with Harry but she didn’t expect it to suck this much when he didn’t engage with her.
They’re in Milan and when Harry doesn’t show up at the hotel bar, well YN wasn’t expecting him to at this point, and she needed to figure out what hotel room he was in.
She’d normally never be so deceptive but she was desperate, she walks straight up to the front desk and tells a bold-face lie to the young receptionist.
“My boss left his phone at the bar,” YN lies, flashing her own phone quickly, “I completely forgot what room he said he was in. Would you be able to tell me?”
The girl doesn’t think anything of it as she looks up the information, letting YN know what room and YN is thanking her before walking determinedly to the elevators.
It’s late by this point, nearing eleven and she was praying that he wasn’t asleep as she stepped up to his door, her heart was pounding out of her chest at the mere thought of being rejected.
It takes a good three minutes before she finally musters up the courage to knock on the door a few times - god, she didn’t even know what she wanted to say to him.
There’s a bit of rustling behind the door, YN wonders if he’s going to open it - there’s no peephole on these ones and her breathing freezes when he swings open the door.
He was in a pair of gray joggers that were low on his hips, the band of his underwear peeking over but the main thing was that he was shirtless and he had tattoos everywhere.
Her brain couldn’t tell if it wanted to focus on memorizing the black ink on his skin or the definition of his stomach, a trail of sparse hair leading from his belly button into his underwear.
Harry doesn’t give anything away from his face, blunt and cold, “Can I help you?”
“I want to say I’m sorry,” YN decides that is the best place to start, “You were kind to me that night and before that even, it wasn’t right over me to insinuate you were doing it for an inappropriate reason.”
“I don’t need a fucking apology, I don’t care,” Harry bites out and YN knows that his guard is a hundred percent up by the way his posture is uncomfortable and defensive.
“You do care,” YN replies surely, “If it hadn’t bothered you, you wouldn’t have been ignoring me for the three weeks. I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry because it wasn’t my intention.”
Harry doesn’t deny it again but he doesn’t admit to it either, instead he grits out, “It doesn’t matter either way.”
“It matters to me,” YN argues back, now getting defensive.
“It shouldn't,” Harry’s voice is back to being louder, firmer.
YN bit her lip for a moment, deciding on how vulnerable she felt like being with the man who showed absolutely none himself, “I’ve missed you these past weeks. I miss fighting with you on the flights, I miss our nightly ice machine walks, and you giving me a hard time in the staff room before takeoff.”
Harry’s lips twitch before he’s pulling them in a tight line, “I accept your apology.”
“Are you done ignoring me?” YN presses because this doesn’t feel resolved and she’s never had the urge to want to touch someone so much.
“For now,” Harry’s lips barely tilt into a smile.
It’s quiet between the two for a long pause, staring at each other, and YN doesn’t know what she wants but she feels like she’s just standing there like an idiot, “Well, goodnight. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”
Harry’s eyes dart back up to hers, she realizes that he’d been checking her out, and he doesn’t show any shame in being caught before nodding, “We are. Goodnight.”
YN turns towards her room, the door closing softly behind her but she pauses after a few steps because she’s never been adventurous, she’s never been bold, and she might be making a mistake but fuck, she has to just try.
She’s retracing her steps, knocking on the door harshly, and it was like Harry hadn’t gone back further into the room yet because he opens it up quickly.
They don’t say anything before YN steps forward, heart pounding in her ears, and leans up - pressing their lips together and letting her hand rest on his cheek.
It flips a switch in him because he’s pulling her into his room, shutting and locking the door before walking her right into the entryway wall - his lips were persistent and taking over as he coaxes her mouth open to lick into it.
He knocks her hand away from his face but only so he can take hers between his hands, cupping her jaw on each side tightly as he moves her head how he wants to deepen the kiss.
YN’s never been kissed like this in her life, she’d never been more aroused either.
Harry presses his hips forward until their pelvises are pressed together, he wants her to feel how hard he’s getting as pressed against her and bites at her bottom lip.
YN whines at that, her hands coming up to roam over his chest, it was so defined and muscular, not what she was used to - Harry was hard and firm where Noah had been soft and plusher.
When she thumb brushes over his nipple, his pec twitches and she has to do it a few more times until she gets her fill.
He wasn’t shy when he sucked on her tongue, licked at the roof of her mouth, and made her feel like he wanted to feel every single part of her as he moved down to the hem of her shirt.
He pulls back with his lips a delicious bubblegum pink, swollen and shiny from their spit, “What do you want? Do you want me to stop?”
That’s the last thing she wants.
YN shakes her head, “Don’t want to stop, please.”
Harry smiles at her, it’s a softer expression than she’s ever seen from him and he leans forward, nuzzling her cheek for a moment before dragging her in for another long kiss.
“Can I undress you then, pup?” Harry murmurs against her lips as he starts to bring up the bottom of her shift but slowly enough that if she told him no, he would stop.
“Please, just want you,” YN agrees breathlessly when she tries to move to the button of her jeans, Harry knocks her hand away with an annoyed grunt and glare.
“Let me do everything, I just want you to enjoy it. Don’t worry, you’ll get all of me. I’ll give you anything you fuckin’ want,” Harry tells her as he sheds her top, then bra.
He looks torn for a second like he can’t decide whether he wants to play with her chest or continue until she’s fully bare but he decides against the latter, cursing as he pulls down her pants, “Knew you’d have the cutest tits.”
“You’ve thought about this?” YN questions as he moves to discard her underwear.
“Of course I fucking have, it’s all I’ve thought about for the past month. No, I wasn’t doing any of those things to get in your pants but it didn’t mean I didn’t want to fuck you,” Harry’s voice is getting deeper and raspier as he’s gets more and more turned on, “On the bed.”
Noah’s the only guy that YN’s ever been with.
It was uncomfortable to have such a devastatingly attractive man standing in front of her when she didn’t feel anywhere as sexy as him.
The worry only stays for a moment because when she’s spread out in the middle of his bed, he’s tracing every inch of her skin, and moans loudly as he moves to squeeze himself once, “I think this is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. God, you’re like a little angel, aren’t you?”
“Come here,” YN whimpers, reaching out for him because she needs to touch him and he obliges eagerly, he’s tugging off his joggers but keeping his underwear on as he crawls over the bed and on top of her.
Harry finds her lips again, dropping his hips to grind against her center, and it feels so fucking good, just this contact through two layers of clothing and it all like a new experience to her - she never felt this with Noah.
Harry’s mouth moves but he’s not just kissing, he’s licking at her, sucking, and biting all over her jawline then neck until he gets to her chest where he lets a pleased hum when he cups them.
“Puppy, how are you this perfect, hm?” Harry coos as he leans down to graze his teeth against her hard nipple, “Pretty little thing coming to my room, begging for me to touch her, and then you show off this body? Maybe I should ignore you more often.”
YN turns her head and bites meanly at his hand which makes him chuckle and kiss the curve of her breast in apology before he’s wrapping his lips around one, fingers coming to pinch and roll the other one.
“Fuck,” YN gasps because he definetly knows how to use his mouth and her back arches involuntarily, pressing herself further into him, and trying to grind her hips up against where he’s hard, wishing he could slip between her folds like this.
Harry leaves them wet and hard as his lips continue down the center of sternum, down on her belly and she’d never thought it would feel good to have someone nip and suck at her plush but it did.
When he starts to move even further down, closer to her pubic bone, she freezes which Harry can tell right away by the hand on his shoulder tightens and her legs still from where they were restless.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?” Harry asks with concern as he sits up more on his elbows to make eye contact with her - she didn’t know how he managed to look so cute and so obscene at the same time with worried eyes and puffy lips.
“You-I just,” YN stutters and she wants to smack herself for being an idiot because she should have known that it would lead like this but softly, she says, “You don’t have to…you know, do that.”
“Do what?” Harry replies with confusion, his fingers were still tracing mindless patterns on her tummy, thumb smoothing at the skin.
YN groans in embarrassment, she could feel her face getting hot, “You know…I’m just saying you don’t have to…,” Her eyes dart down to her lower half so that maybe he gets the hint.
“What? Eat your cunt?” Harry clarifies and of course he’d be this fucking crass in bed, she shouldn’t have expected anything less, “Do you not want me to? If you don’t want me to, I don't have to.”
“It’s not that,” YN wants to crawl into a hole and die.
“You’re acting like it would be a chore to me. I am one hundred percent sure that I’ll get just as much pleasure from tasting you on my tongue, getting my face in your perfect little cunt. Now what’s the issue?”
“You’re going to laugh,” YN mutters and she wishes she would have just kept her stupid mouth shut at this point.
“Tell me now,” He’s gone demanding again, his fingers pressing harder into her skin now.
“I’ve just never had it done to me before,” She admits finally, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over her eyes to hide the absolute embarrassment of it all.
Harry crawls back up on top of her, forcefully moving her arm until they’re making eye contact, “I thought you were in a relationship for six years?”
“I was,” YN sighs as she curls her hand around his neck, “He said that men didn’t really do that often and he told me that he didn’t want to put his mouth on me and I never wanted to make him uncomfortable so we never did that.”
“Your ex is a selfish little prick,” Harry rasps against her lips, his hand moving down until he has his thumb pressed snug up against her clit which makes her twitch, “You get this excited from my thumb? You better not tell me he didn’t give you fingers either.”
“He didn’t want to do that either,” YN mewls when he starts a slow circular motion on her nerves.
“If it was possible, I’d have my mouth on your cunt and you riding my fingers every fucking day of the week,” Harry rumbles as he moves back down her body, “He’s a fucking dickhead who didn’t deserve you for a million different reasons. Do you want me to or no? I will understand either way.”
“Want it, Harry. I want it,” YN nearly slurs with how fucking turned on she is, her hips squirming again, and Harry gives her a dazzling fucking smile as he scotches down the bed.
He’s shouldering her thighs apart even further before he’s gripping the meat of one to keep her knee crooked and open as he groans like he’s getting pleasure from simply looking at her.
“God, I don’t think I’m going to survive this. I’ve never seen something this breathtaking before,” Harry says as he thumbs her folds apart, admiring her for another moment before he’s ducking down to bury his tongue tight up against her clit.
And holy shit.
She didn’t realize that this was what she had been missing.
Her legs try to close around his head but he keeps them spread and his other hand comes down the rest around her middle to keep her hips down.
He knows exactly what to do as he laps fat strokes of his tongue up from her core to her clit, over and over while YN is still relentlessly is trying to grind her hips up.
Harry pulls back which makes YN whine but he simply says, “Should have known what a brat you’d be in bed with how you are at work. Stay still now and let me do what I want to you. I promise it’ll feel good, baby.”
And his voice is so strict, demanding that she does finally relax into his hold which he rewards with fucking his tongue into her.
“M’close, Harry. Feels s’good,” YN moans as her stomach clenches.
“Come on, pup,” Harry coos against her, “Give me what I’ve earned, yeah?”
She’s almost disappointed she feels her orgasm coming because she doesn’t want to be over but Harry’s mouth is practiced and self-assured, he keeps the same pace throughout her orgasm which makes it longer by a few seconds.
YN melts into the mattress, body feeling loose and tingly as she comes down for her high, and her brows furrow when she sees Harry push down his briefs and begin to stroke himself with intent.
YN weakly kicks his thigh with a pout, “Don’t.”
Harry doesn’t stop but he slows down which gives YN a look at just how well endowed he is and to no surprise, mouth-wateringly beautiful.
“Don’t get myself off?”
“Fuck me,” YN breathes out, surprising herself with her boldness.
Harry’s hand stops, “Yeah? You’d let me get you on my cock, puppy? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”
And….
YN wants to preen at the compliment, after feeling like she didn’t deserve anything to hear Harry say that made her stomach flutter even if it was just dirty talk.
“How do you want it?” Harry asks as he comes closer again, ducking down to kiss at her knees, thighs, and he peppers kisses over her mound which feels wildly more intimate than anything she’d ever done with Noah.
“However you want,” YN murmurs shyly because her only experience is Noah and they had a vanilla sex life to say the least, a whole lot of doggy and her riding him so he didn’t have to do any work.
Harry laughs at that, lips vibrating against her belly, “I’ll take you anyway you’ll let me. What do you like most? What makes you come hard?”
YN doesn’t have an answer to this because she’s never had an orgasm from penetrative sex before without her own fingers rushing to get her there so he doesn’t finish first and leave her hanging.
Harry is obviously experienced and so it doesn’t make her proud to have to feel inexperienced at this moment.
“Shut the fuck up,” Harry huffs out even though she didn’t say anything, he takes a moment to nip at her hip, “You’re telling me this fucker never got you off? Please tell me this is a joke.”
YN tries to cover her face again but he wraps his hands around her wrist and pulls them away, “This is so embarrassing.”
“It is,” Harry agrees easily, “For him. Can’t believe you were with him for six years and he couldn’t even make you come. You’re telling me she was neglected this whole time,” Harry frowns as his thumb comes back to her clit, “Should be a crime.”
“I mean I did get off but I had to….get myself there,” YN starts to wiggle again, wanting to chase the friction from his movement.
“I’d love to watch you do that sometime but tonight, you’re not going to have to lift a finger,” Harry tells her confidently before he’s positioning himself above her, lips brushing hers but not quite kiss as he lines himself up and she wraps her legs around his narrow waist, “I like this position. I want to see how gorgeous you are when you come.”
YN brings a hand up to his curls, knotting her fingers in the strands, and brings his lips fully against hers as he pushes in, it doesn’t hurt but it definitely takes a minute to adjust as Harry was much more blessed in the department than Noah was and she hadn’t had sex for over six months.
“Wait wait,” YN pants out, pulling back, “I -I’m on birth control but are you clean?”
Harry smirks at her like she’s asked something funny, “I’m clean. I got tested after my last partner.”
“Me too,” YN replies, relieved that they don’t have to stop.
Harry resumes kissing her but when he’s finally all the way in, his breathing stutters and he lets out a low whine that makes YN throb - like she felt so good to him that he couldn’t stand it.
“Harry, you feel so good,” YN mewls as he starts a slow but powerful rhythm, she was turned on to the point where she could hear it as he thrusted in and out.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever felt, pup,” Harry praises and she doesn’t know whether it’s just the dirty talk, it most likely is but it still makes her feel empowered, sexy.
It becomes to much when he starts to pick up the pace to continue kissing, every other breathe out of YN’s mouth was a moan and he moves down to wrap his lips around her nipple and his hands came under her bum - positioning her more upwards so her backside was off the bed and he could slide in perfectly.
The change in position made him hit a spot she’d only heard about in her body, on every odd motion he would nudge it, and she was going to come again without any stimulation on her clit.
“Ha-Harry,” YN moans louder than she’s ever been and he pulls back from her breasts as he’s staring at her now, eyes studying her face.
“Oh baby, are you close f’me? Am I doing a good job?” Harry’s voice isn’t as steady as before either, there was a bead of sweat on his temple, and his chest was pink with arousal.
“Yeah, I’m close-“ YN doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before she’s squeezing around him, shaking as he keeps his pace to work her through it, and she’s a little dazed that she misses when Harry stills inside her - letting out his own filthy noises and praises as he comes down too.
YN didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t for Harry to collapse his full weight on top of her and nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck for a moment, kissing her pulse point before rolling off.
She doesn’t want to assume that she can sleep here, she still needs to take off her makeup and she doesn’t have pajamas, and she feels anxiety creeping in which makes her get off the bed.
Harry lays on his back, one arm above his head, stomach flexing as he catches his breath, unashamed as he lays on full display because he has to know how beautiful he is.
“Where are you going?” Harry frowns as he watches her gather her scattered clothes.
“Um…back to my room? I have to take off my makeup, change,” And she didn’t want to mention showering because she wasn’t going to sleep after he'd come inside her.
“You don’t have to, I don’t want you to think that I’m kicking you out,” Harry sits up more, reaching for his briefs before his joggers and standing up to go over to his luggage to rummage for a shirt, “Let me walk you back at least.”
“Walk of shame,” YN half-jokes as she pulls her top over her head, bra crumpled in her hand because she didn’t feel like putting it back on.
“There’s was nothing shameful about how fucking well you took it,” Harry gives her a cheeky smile as he grabs his keycard, her room was only a few doors down.
When she unlocks her door, she turns around with her hand on the handle, and doesn’t know what to say but Harry’s leaning down to kiss her softly this time, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Harry.”
And when YN steps inside her room, closing the door behind her, she knows she’s royally screwed because that was the best sex of her life and now she knows for sure she has a fat fucking crush on Harry.
-
The first month after their original hookup was filled with more sex, it wasn’t every night but at least every other time they had to stay in a hotel - Harry would find his way into YN’s room and they’d have amazing sex each time.
He had her constantly on pit crew and they still bickered back and forth but it wasn’t as heated and it turned more into teasing than actual fights anymore which YN surprisingly didn’t mind.
YN felt like she’d gotten to know just bare minimum about Harry while she’d be pouring her heart out when the right moment hit, and he didn’t stay the night but he’d hang around for a bit before leaving her room.
It was also the month that YN realized that she didn’t just like vanilla sex and Harry had made her realize that very quickly because before him, she’d never had sex anywhere but in bed and a few times in a shower.
It had been an evening flight out, their flight had got delayed due to a gnarly thunderstorm which meant they would be stranded at the airport for another three hours before their plane came in.
Harry never spent time in the employee lounge, pilots had their own area which was rumored to be substantially nicer than the one that YN was currently sitting in.
They still have two hours until takeoff when she receives a text from Harry.
Harry: Come to the pilot’s lounge. Third floor near gate b32.
YN’s heart rate spikes as she gathers her luggage, her friends looking at her curiously, “I think I’m going to walk around a bit, maybe find a new book to read.”
“Want us to come?” Elaina volunteers but doesn’t seem eager to move from where she’s splayed on a overstuffed chair while playing Candy Crush.
“I think I’ll be fine,” YN replies as she heads out the door, it was actually good luck that all three of her friends appeared to be in a lazy mood because usually at least one of them would want to tag along with her.
YN knows other staff are not prohibited in the pilots lounge and so she’s nervous as she finds the long hallway that leads to the tucked away space that he’s referring to.
He’s waiting outside the door with his normal unreadable expression, his uniform perfectly fitted and pressed - the thrill of her being able to take it off of him makes her start to get wet without him even doing anything.
“I’m not supposed to be here,” YN tells him even though it’s obvious.
That makes Harry crack a grin, a wolfish tilt to his lips, “I’ll sneak you in.”
Harry opens the door with a special keycard, guiding YN into the lounge, it’s empty in here but it’s a million times nicer than the one that she’s used to with luxurious comfy seats, a pristine kitchen, and big flat screen televisions.
Harry moves to hold her wrist, tugging her along until they’re in the back corner, and Harry’s pushes open another door - to a single stall bathroom that looked like it could be out of a movie with shining tile floors and floral wallpaper.
“Harry,” YN warns because she knows with this is going and she doesn’t want to get in trouble.
“It’s fine, pup. There’s no one in here,” Harry soothes as he locks the door, he is predatory as he stalks towards her, his eyes dark and his movements slow but precise.
“Someone could come in at anytime,” YN points out desperately, she wants to do this but she wants to be assured that there’s no way that they’re going to get caught, even though he can’t guarantee that.
“Better keep your pretty noises to yourself then,” Harry rasps, YN has noticed how much scratchier and deeper his voice gets when he’s turned on, it’s unfairly hot.
She doesn’t have time to reply because he’s picking her up from under her bum and seating her on the sink countertop, his mouth moving to hers, and bringing her into a kiss that’s already filled with desire.
YN is nervous, she’s knows it’s dumb, and she doesn’t want Harry to make fun of her because of it but she’s never had sex somewhere this….risky and this is all so new.
Harry can tell by the way she’s kissing, distracted and in her own mind which makes him pull back, his thumb coming to rub at her bottom lip, pulling it down a bit.
“Do you not want to?” Harry checks as he watches her face, “We don’t have to, baby. We can wait until we get to the hotel. It’s okay with me either way. I should have check-“
YN cuts his off with another kiss before she pulls back, fingers coming to graze along the collar of his uniform, dipping underneath and caressing the skin as much as she could.
“I want to. I’m just nervous, I’ve never had sex anywhere but in a house,” YN’s face is heating with embarassment, admitting how fucking vanilla she is to someone who obviously isn’t.
Harry’s smile is nearly fond, “Tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay? M’going to show you that you deserve to be fucked whenever and wherever you want. I don’t know how your ex never did it outside the house. I thinking about fucking you everywhere, the hotel pool, over the edge of the bar, on the balcony.”
YN’s thighs clench and she presses their lips together to shut him up because sometimes his dirty talk is so sincere and downright filthy that she’ll combust if she hears anymore of it.
They don’t get caught but fuck it gets YN addicted because it’s not the only time it happens.
-
The second month, things had evolved even more.
Harry started saying that he was much too tired to walk back to his hotel room that was right down the hall and YN never kicked him out, he started staying after every time they hooked up.
YN would ask about Harry’s life outside of work but he really never divulged much which made YN remember each time that this was simply casual for him - there was no interest in a relationship and he didn’t like her like that, didn’t want to get to know her or open up about himself.
It made things harder, when he would kiss her so sweetly and tell her every time that she’s the best he’s ever had, it was hard to comprehend that he didn't have feelings for her either.
Especially on nights where he didn’t even get off.
He was too exhausted from a long flight but YN wasn’t, how he’d eat her out or give her his fingers as he kissed her softly, goading her sweetly to come so they could go to sleep.
He’d do nice things outside of the bedroom too.
On days where they didn’t have to be at the airport until noon, Harry would order breakfast to her room, he had arranged a massage for her, and then once a spa day when they had a day off in Toronto.
They still hadn’t hung out without having sex until almost three months into their casual arrangement.
YN didn’t feel good when they landed in London.
When she’d gone to her hotel room, she’d thrown up everything she’d eaten that day, and it felt like she’d been hit by a truck as she showered before laying in bed.
She hadn’t gotten sick again but she could tell that something she’d eaten had upset her stomach.
Then around ten, there’s a knock at her door.
YN groans because her body protests when she pulls herself off the bed to open the door - just in a big shirt and underwear because she already knows who it is.
Harry steps into the room, going to cup her jaw, and lean in for a kiss when she pulls back much to his displeasure - a frown gracing his face as she denies him.
“I don’t feel good, I’m sorry. I don’t feel like having sex,” YN tells him, hoping he doesn't mind too much - she remembers how upset Noah would get if she turned him down, “Maybe tomorrow morning but I got sick-“
Harry’s frown deepens as he guides her towards the bed, “We’re not doing anything if you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about the next time we are going to. We’ll find time when you’re feeling better.”
“But…” YN hates that she feels like she has to ask, “Are you mad?”
Harry looks a bit devastated at that question, his voice soft as he pats her bum as she crawls back in bed, “Why on earth would I be mad, pup?”
It’s the first time he’s called her that outside of sex.
He’d call her other things like baby, darling but that nickname hadn’t been spoken before in this context.
“Because I don’t want to have sex tonight,” YN wants to look away but he holds her gaze so intently.
Something clicks and Harry realizes that this insecurity must come from her last relationship.
“I wouldn’t be mad even if you never wanted to have sex with me again,” Harry assures her and he sounds sincere as he sits next to her, “I fucking love doing that with you but if you didn’t want to tonight or whenever, I’d never be upset. I respect whatever you want to do.”
“Thank you,” YN smiles weakly, she wanted a cuddle and it didn’t feel like she could because they didn’t do just that.
Harry nods, squeezing her thigh before standing back up.
“Have a goodnight,” YN tells him as he turns his back to her.
He whips around with confusion written all over his face, “You want me to leave?”
YN is just as confused, “I thought that’s what you were doing.”
“I was just going to turn off the floor lamp,” Harry nods to the light still on in the far corner, “But I can go if you don’t want me here-“
“No!” YN says too quickly, “I want you to stay. I just, we haven’t done this without you know…having sex.”
Harry’s face relaxes as he realizes he’s not being kicked out but he does move to turn off the lamp before stripping down to his briefs, he doesn’t respond to her last sentence but instead says, “Put on a movie.”
She does and he brings her into his chest and now that becomes a thing.
-
By the middle of the third month, they spend every night together when they’re traveling, and even when they’re not having sex, they go to bed cuddled up at night.
Harry doesn’t even bother with false pretenses and stops putting his suitcase in his own hotel room.
YN still finds frustration in how closed off Harry is, he’s attentive and at least acts interested when YN talks about herself and her life but he rarely gives anything out.
She’d been dying to know about his ex-wife, if what his friends said was true and he was married but he doesn’t ever mention an ex-wife or anything much for that matter.
It starts to feel like YN wants this more than him which isn’t fair to him because he never said that he wanted a relationship with her and she knew she fucked up by falling for him.
One night though, something changes and it begins to give YN hope that this wasn’t all in her head that he might like her too.
They had gone out onto the balcony of the hotel, they were in Madrid, and it overlooked the city as they laid on the lounge chair, YN in between his legs, and the warm air had a light breeze.
“I’ve never been to the Maldives, never been lucky enough to get a flight there,” YN hums as she plays with the rings on his finger, his hand resting on her belly, “But I’d say that’s my dream vacation. Always have wanted to go. Have you flown there?”
“I haven’t had a flight there, working wise. I had my honeymoon there,” Harry replies and his voice is tighter, more vulnerable than it was just mere minutes ago.
“Oh,” YN doesn’t know what to say.
“It was beautiful. The water was amazing, it just looked like you were living in a magazine,” Harry continues but he sounds strained like it’s hard for him to even talk about it.
“That’s why I want to go,” YN keeps her voice upbeat, giving him the opportunity not to elaborate if he didn’t want to.
“I was married for five years,” Harry tells her with hesitation.
“When did you get divorced?” YN can’t help but ask, hoping it doesn’t make him close back up.
“We didn’t,” Harry says but there’s no sharp edge to his voice, “She passed away.”
YN’s heart absolutely sinks into her stomach.
“I am so sorry to hear that, Harry,” YN squeezed his hand, bringing it up so she could kiss his palm and he allowed it.
“We…we were separated at the time and had filed for divorce,” Harry continues with a shudder, “We hadn’t been getting along for the past two years of our marriage. We got married right out of college, we’d only known each other for six months before we eloped. We were stupid and young. Once the honeymoon phase was over, we realized we had nothing in common or even really liked each other. We tried to make it work but we couldn’t.”
“I…uh, I didn’t want to be with her anymore but I still loved her,” Harry’s voice is shaky, “Not so much as a lover but she was still my friend. I…It was hard. She was in a car accident coming home from work, she was working the night shift as a nurse at the hospital. Drunk driver.”
“That’s heartbreaking,” YN feels herself getting upset for Harry, tears falling down her cheeks at what he had to go through, she couldn’t even imagine.
“Don’t cry, S’okay. I’m okay now,” Harry soothes as he leans forward to thumb at her damp cheeks, “I’m okay. I got counseling, I’ve worked through my grief.”
“I should be comforting you, I’m sorry,” YN apologizes but she’s taken by surprise when he leans forward and kisses her firmly, it’s not sexually charged but there’s so much feeling as he holds her to him.
It feels like more than just friends with benefits.
It has to be.
-
Harry was on a rampage at work, YN had never seen him so infuriated in her life as they were up in the air, five hours into a eleven hour flight, and he was more pissed than even his worst fight with YN.
The ground crew hadn’t fully fueled the aircraft, they weren’t going to make it to their destination on what they had left to work with, it wasn’t something that often occurred but it has happened occasionally in the past.
However, it meant that Harry had to work with staff on the ground to figure out what airport he needed to land out to refuel while figuring out the logistics of changing the course and time of the flight.
He hadn’t lashed out at YN but he’d chewed out nearly everyone else on the crew at least once but poor Perry got shouted out at least three times and she had cried two of them.
At the end of the day, the eleven hour flight took nearly fourteen, and by the time YN and Harry were in their bed, it was late, and they were both tired as they turned on a movie.
YN isn’t sure about how the topic went to their previous relationships but she answered anything Harry had asked about Noah, YN felt like she could do the same now that he had opened up about his wife.
“What did your family think of you getting eloped six months after meeting each other?” YN was curious, figured it wasn’t a crazy question to ask at all but Harry visibly tenses.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Harry throws up his guard instantly and usually YN is understanding but quite frankly, it is starting to piss her off now.
“Of course you don’t,” YN scoffs with an annoyed edge.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Harry shoots back, sitting up straighter and looking over at her.
“That you will never open up to me! I share everything about me with you and you give me absolutely nothing. You shared about your wife that one night but beside that, you’ve never let me get to know you!” YN points out as she sits up too, anger rising in her chest.
An expression that YN doesn’t recognize flashes across his face for a moment before he’s covering it with a scowl, “I don’t have to share anything with you, YN. We’re not dating, we’re not in a relationship. It shouldn’t fucking matter if you know me.”
And ouch, that….that really fucking hurt.
YN could feel herself getting more upset than she’s been in a long time because this was her getting rejected officially.
Because if this is all he wants, YN doesn’t know if she can be okay with that anymore.
“Get the fuck out of my room,” YN finds herself huffing out, ripping the covers off of her legs and standing up - she feels a wave of naseous run over her as she bolts to the bathroom, slamming the door and doubling over the toilet.
Harry opens the door, moving to pull her hair away from her face, and rubs at her back as she heaves into the bowl, moaning at how gross she feels before flushing - he takes a step back from her.
“Thanks,” YN mutters as he gives her room to walk over to the sink to brush her teeth, “My stomach’s been sensitive to food lately while we’ve been on trips.”
“I know,” Harry replies simply because this isn’t the first time he’d held her hair as she got sick.
“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” YN tells him and at the same time, her heart is completely ripping into two.
This is the moment she realizes how irrevocably in love with Harry that she is and she’s fallen so hard that it feels impossible to dig herself out of the hole she’s dug.
If she couldn’t have all of him then she knew she was hurting herself in the long run because she’d never get what she wanted from him and sex just wasn’t enough for her even if it was for him.
“YN,” Harry’s voice is smaller than it’s ever sounded, shocked by what she’s saying and his eyes are wide, pleading, “Don’t. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn't have said those things. Today hasn’t been a good day, I didn’t -”
“Don’t apologize, Harry,” YN shakes her head, voice steady and firm,“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I just…this isn’t working for me. I can’t just be a hookup for you, I don’t want that. I want to know you, I want more than what you want. It’s just better if we stop while we’re ahead.”
“YN, please just-“ Harry sounds like he’s begging but YN’s made up her mind and nothing has ever hurt more than this.
“Harry,” Her voice is stern, “Please just leave.”
He bites his lip because he wants to argue more, he honestly looks like he’s near tears but YN doesn’t know if that’s just her imagination as he exits the bathroom to gather his clothes into his suitcase - digging around for the keycard to his own room he threw carelessly somewhere.
YN didn't sleep that night, eyes hurting from how much she’d cried, cheeks raw from where she had continuously wiped away the traitorous tears because this hurt worse than anything she’d ever gone through with Noah.
-
YN does exactly what Harry had done to her in the past.
She hides away before flights because her friends have told her that Harry has been coming in looking for her  and she switches positions with someone else so that she’s not in the pit.
She ignores Harry when he knocks at her hotel door one night, ignores his text messages asking for them just to talk, and lets the food he sends up from room services go cold.
It’s only been a week since the incident but YN hasn’t felt any better with her stomach issues as she settles back at home after another flight - she’s restocking her toiletry bag for the next day when she realizes that she didn’t need to refill her tampons.
YN’s heart sinks into her stomach when she realizes that she can’t remember the last time that she had a period but there is absolutely no fucking way that she’s pregnant because she was on brith control and took it regularly.
She was googling frantically the statistics of birth control not working and that the pill is ninety-one percent effective which means there’s only a nine percent chance it’s not.
But there’s a chance.
YN digs in her cabinets for an old test that she knew she’d shoved somewhere after she’d broken up with Noah and had sworn off sex, and she was shaking as she waited for the results.
Her phone chimes with a text from Harry.
Please, can we just talk?
Don’t shut me out. Please.
YN, can you just give me a chance to explain myself?
Please, YN. I can’t stand this. It’s killing me. Please.
And YN ignores them, hyperventilating as her alarm sounds, and she flips the plastic stick - a digital reading across the screen and in clear bold letters, it tells her what she didn’t want to fucking see.
Pregnant.
Holy fucking shit.
“No,” YN whimpers as she blinks at it, “No no no.”
She was responsible with her pill, how was she part of the small percentage?
It never happened with Noah, why now?
Why was it with the person who didn't want her like this?
YN feels lightheaded, stumbling to her bed, and burying herself in the covers because she doesn’t know what to think or do or feel because she’s pregnant with Harry’s baby and he doesn’t even want a relationship with her.
-
YN calls off work for the next two weeks because she doesn’t know what else to do, she had vacation time to use, and she couldn’t face Harry right now as she figured out what she was going to do or how she was going to tell him.
She’s still violently sick nearly everyday, feeling worse as the days go on, when her two weeks was up - she didn’t feel any better about going to work.
Harry hadn’t stopped texting her, trying to call her but she couldn’t even read them because it hurt too much.
YN is in love with him, she had a baby in her stomach that is half him, and he didn’t want any of that.
On the day that she returns to work, they’re going to London again.
She’d been having awful cramps all morning, getting sick twice in the airport bathroom, and felt like she was striking a fever as she boarded the plane.
Harry was out of the cockpit, standing right outside of it, and his eyes flash in concern when he sees YN, “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you -“
“I’m fine,” YN brushes him off, lying through her teeth as she stows her bag away before retreating to the back of the aircraft despite his eyes on her the whole time.
-
YN lets her friends convince her into going to the hotel restaurant that night despite feeling like death, the cramps hadn’t stopped, her head was now pounding, and she still felt overheated.
Her food was untouched as her friends giggled and gossiped around her but suddenly she felt like she was going to pass out.
The stomach cramps turned into a sharper pain, something she’d never felt before.
It was indescribable and she knew that she needed to go to the hospital.
And all she can think about is the baby.
That this isnt’ good.
“Oh…Oh my god,” YN gasps as she pushes her chair back, “I- I need to go to the hospital.”
All three girls jerk their head with wide eyes, immediately confused and worried, Justine who was sitting next to her, “What’s wrong?”
“Cramps, I’m having cramps. They’re….fuck, they’re bad,” YN groans as she moves her hand to her stomach, feeling like she may just double over in pain.
“Do you think that it might just be your period?” Perry asks as she begins looking for a staff member.
YN shakes her head sharply, “No-no because I'm pregnant.”
All three girls gasp in surprise, moving into action as they flag over the waiter to call the paramedics - the pain in her stomach was starting to overwhelm her.
“Call Harry,” YN shoves her phone at Elaina, “Please.”
“He’ll understand, YN. Don’t worry about work right now,” She tries to assure her.
“Elaina, call him,” YN says firmly, giving her a look, and that when all three girls register what she is implying - they try to hide the absolute shock as Elaina presses his contact information.
YN zones in and out of consciousness for a while, barely remembers when Harry arrives but he’s brushing her hair out of her face, murmuring things to her, and patting a wet rag on her forehead that someone gave him.
He clambers into the ambulance with her and she starts to come back to reality for a little while the paramedic begins to ask her questions about her health history.
She doesn’t know how it didn’t get communicated from her friends about what was going on but the EMT asks, “Do you have any idea why you’re having this pain?”
Harry’s hand is gripping hers tightly, he’s confused and has no idea what is going on but he’s shaking as he watches her.
“I’m-I’m pregnant,” YN manages to spit out and squeezes her eyes shut because she doesn’t want to see Harry’s reaction to that news.
His hand leaves hers.
“Baby, oh my god,” Harry gasps in surprise but he’s getting up from the seat, leaning over, and pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, “You’re pregnant...”
“Your baby,” YN nods as she tenses as a cramp fleets through her body, “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I took my pills I promise, I don’t know how-“
“Sssh,” Harry soothes instantly, lips peppering kisses all over her face now as he strokes her hair, “S’okay, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m here and I love you so much, pup.”
YN blinks up at him blearily, “You love me?”
Harry nods, there’s tears in the corner of his eyes, “I’ve been trying to tell you for the last weeks but you wouldn’t talk to me. Of course, I fucking love you.”
“I love you too,” YN tells him but has to grit her teeth when another pain shoots through her and everything goes dark for a while.
-
YN wakes up in a hospital bed, there blinds are drawn shut and it’s dark in the room, she can tell it’s still night as there is no sun seeping through the cracks of the sills.
She feels substantially better than when she was being transported here but her side is still aching and as she blinks her eyes open, she sees Harry sitting right next to her bed with his head slumped against the edge of the mattress.
He was asleep and looked to be in the most uncomfortable position, sitting up in a chair with his back hunched at an awful angle, his one hand resting on his thigh but the other was holding tightly onto hers.
She could fully admit that her heart soared with love as she watched the man beside her sleep - it may sound creepy but she loved watching him like this because all his frown wrinkles were smoothed, he was relaxed with his puffy lips parted, his eyelashes long against his cheekbones.
Her free hand comes to his hair, carding her fingers through the curls, and lightly scratching her nails against his scalp.
It takes a minute but he finally stirs, a sharp intake of breath as he sits up with wide eyes, there was so much anxiety in his expression that YN had never seen before this night.
“Pup,” Harry rasps, his voice thick from sleep but he brings her hand up to kiss the back of it, avoiding the IV, “How long have you been awake?”
“Just now,” YN tells him and she knows, she knows she needs to ask what happened but the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her that she no longer has a baby growing in her stomach.
“I love you,” Harry breathes out quickly like he’s worried she’ll kick him out of the room, “Pretty much from the beginning I think. I should have let you in, I wanted to. I just…if I have you that means I could lose you. I’ve been through that and I don’t think I could handle it if that happened to you. I hadn’t been with anyone since my wife passed. It’s been ten years and I’m scared.”
“I love you too,” YN whispers sincerely, leaning over slightly and Harry meets her the rest of the way to lay a gentle kiss on her lips, thumb coming to brush under her cheekbone, “The baby..”
Harry bites his lip, jaw clenching but not from anger this time but YN’s absolutely alarmed when he starts to cry, “Our baby is healthy and stable.”
“Wha-What?” YN stammers out in disbelief, she had fully prepared herself for the news that she had miscarried, “The stomach pain, I-You’re lying. Please, don’t- I can’t.”
“Baby, no,” Harry coos soothingly, standing up and leaning over her, pressing his forehead against hers, “It’s wasn’t anything to do with your pregnancy. Your appendix ruptured. The baby was never at risk, they’re okay.”
“I had appendicitis? No-not a miscarriage?” YN clarifies because she doesn’t feel like she’s awake right now, she had prepared herself for the worst news possible.
“Yes, they removed your appendix. They checked on the baby. Everything is fine with you and our baby,” Harry assures her as he peppers kisses all over her face like he did the night before, “I heard their little heart beat, YN. They’re already growing and so strong. Fuck, I’m so in love with them and I just found out.”
“I took my birth control everyday at the same time,” YN begins to explain as she watches Harry’s hand drift down to her stomach, there wasn’t any sign yet maybe a little pudge she hadn’t noticed but he still laid his hand there protectively, “I don’t know why it didn’t, I’m sorry-“
“Do not ever apologize to me about this,” Harry replies firmly, his voice serious and deep as he pulls back to look at her, “Of course, this isn’t what I was expecting but I want it. I want it so fucking badly. I never- I never thought I had kids after you know…what happened.”
“I don’t even know anything about you,” YN sniffles as she pulls him back down, digging her face into his shoulder for comfort as his hand comes to cup the back of her head.
“We have about six months for you to learn every single thing about me,” Harry murmurs with a wet chuckle, “I’m done having walls up. I was trying to tell you that for the last month. I am so fucking in love with you I can’t think straight. I want you to know all of me.”
“I want that too, I want you in every way,” YN presses her lips to his shoulder, tears making his shirt damp.
“You have another night in the hospital,” Harry tells her, “For observation. I think I’d like to start now.”
“Okay,” She nods quietly, moving over with a wince until Harry can squeeze into the small hospital bed with her.
“I grew up in this shitty little apartment above a Chinese restaurant…” Harry starts his story, YN had never heard him speak so much but for the rest of her hospital stay, aside from naps, Harry doesn’t stop sharing.
And he never stops again after that.
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