#harry fluff

[ellewritesx]

cabin pressure

Summary: He's your boss. You're his assistant. But 30,000 feet in the air, it's not exactly tour logistics he's asking you to handle.

Warnings: fingering, handjob, public sex, slight praise kink, a little bit of dom!Harry

A/N: thanks for the love on my first fic! this is the first smutty fic i've written, so you know the drill; don't take it too seriously. let me know if i've forgotten any warnings or if you'd like a part two because i've got some ideas ;) enjoy x

Word Count: 3,329

...

The cabin rumbles with a soft, steady vibration beneath your feet, the kind that settles in your bones after a while, a quiet reminder that you're thirty-thousand feet in the air with nothing but a view of the top of the clouds outside the window.

You've gotten so used to plane rides that they feel like buses now.

Life on the road tended to blur together after a while. Cities changed, skies shifted, but the routine stayed mostly the same: wake, work, soundcheck, show, sleep. Rinse and repeat. But somewhere in that loop, magic lived. The sound of a crowd screaming in the moments before Harry took the stage. The quiet backstage hum of instruments being tuned. The weird little moments, like brushing your teeth next to Harry in the bathroom of a green room or eating post-show ramen in sweatpants with the crew at 2 a.m. It wasn't glamorous, not always. But it was real. And weirdly beautiful.

But right now, there's no excited chatter echoing off the polished surfaces, no quiet strumming of an instrument, no 5-minute calls. Just the soft roaring of the engine and the occasional shuffle of someone shifting in their sleep behind a curtain. It's late and you're flying somewhere above the Atlantic, everyone tucked away for the red-eye haul to Lisbon.

Except you.

And Harry.

You're curled up beside him in the plush leather seat, a warm blanket draped over the both of you, your laptop balanced on your thighs, the screen casting a faint glow across your face. The soft click of the trackpad is the only sound between you as you scroll through the updated tour logistics: merch drop schedules, radio interviews, VIP timetables, revised set list cues...

You're focused. Professional. And painfully aware of how close Harry's knee is to yours.

''Alright,'' you speak up softly, not looking at him. ''I just need your input on the new Paris VIP plan. They want to add a backstage Q&A before soundcheck, only thirty minutes, but it overlaps with your press block. I told them I'd check with you first.''

Harry's quiet for a beat. You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, even though you're pretending not to.

''What do you think I should do?'' he asks eventually, voice low, almost sleepy.

Your stomach tightens. He does that often. Asks for your thoughts, your judgement, like he actually values your opinion. You try to ignore the way it makes your stomach churn and remind yourself that this is in your job description.

''I think we should move the press slot,'' you say, typing a note quickly. ''You'll have more time to reset before soundcheck that way. And you like talking to the fans. You always leave in a better mood.''

He huffs a quiet laugh. ''You pay attention to my mood, do you?''

Shit.

You blink at your screen, then glance over at him. He's leaning against the armrest, hoodie sleeves pushed up, tattoos half-hidden in the soft light. One rogue curl has graciously fallen above his brow and his lips are tilted in the barest smirk.

''Comes with the territory,'' you say quickly, like it's no big deal. ''I need to know when to avoid you.''

That makes him laugh, low and raspy, making you bite the inside of your cheek as you look back at your screen. It's fine. You're fine.

You've been his personal assistant for over a year now. You've memorized his schedule, his allergies, his coffee order and the name of the plushie he brings on tour, despite vehemently denying it. You know when he's tense, when he needs quiet, when he needs to be left alone. You're loyal, always. Unshakable.

And hopelessly, stupidly, quietly in love with him.

But he doesn't know that. Can't know that. You're too good at your job for that kind of mistake.

And you love your job. There was something electric about being on tour: the long nights, the endless movement, the rush of showtime. You loved the chaos of it all, how no two days were the same. You loved the adrenaline that kicked in when a last-minute change had to be made, and you were the one everyone looked to for the fix. It gave you purpose, grounding. And honestly, you thrived in it.

Even in the exhausting moments, the jet lag, the back-to-back shows, the late-night emails... you never once regretted taking this job. Being around music, around the team, around him, made everything worth it.

You'd slipped into the rhythm of the tour crew like you'd been part of it for years. There was something comforting about the way everyone moved together, the shared glances, the inside jokes, the group breakfasts in hotel lobbies.

You were the youngest on the team, but nobody made you feel small. They trusted you, and more importantly, they liked you. Jeff always brought you coffee when you looked like hell. Pauli made you laugh when you were wound too tight. It felt like family. Loud, messy, and wildly dysfunctional, but it was yours.

And Harry's an incredible boss, to nobody's surprise. He was thoughtful. Kind. A little quiet in meetings, but always listening. Always noticing. He never barked orders, he asked, genuinely. And when he thanked you for something, it wasn't in that empty, offhanded way people often do. He meant it. You could feel it in the way he said your name. It made you want to work harder, not out of obligation, but because he deserved that kind of loyalty.

''I should finish this before we land,'' you murmur, starting to scroll again. ''Still need to go through wardrobe notes for Madrid.''

You don't notice the way he watches you, how his gaze trails from focused eyes down to your parted lips, how he swallows when your fingers twitch on the keyboard.

''You never let me help,'' he points out softly, drawing your attention back to him.

You blink. ''Help with…?''

''Any of this,'' he gestures toward your screen. ''You do everything. Handle everything. I don't know how you're not burnt out yet.''

''I'm your assistant. It's kind of my job, Harry,'' you say with a soft chuckle and a slight tilt of your head, confused.

''You're the best assistant I've ever had,'' he hums, eyes dark.

Something about the way he says it makes your heart stutter.

You weren't sure when it happened exactly, when your feelings shifted, digging deeper into your skin than just a work relationship. Maybe it was the night in Atlanta when he stayed behind after everyone left the venue just to help you find your clipboard, calming you with hushed reassurances as you spiraled.

Or maybe it was how he never let anyone talk over you in meetings, always circling back to your points, asking what you thought. It was slow, creeping, this ache in your chest every time he smiled at you like he knew you, really knew you. You told yourself it would pass.

But that night in Austin you'd known. You'll never forget the way your breath had caught in your throat.

The setlist had already been printed, laminated, sent to every team lead. Your favorite song, a deep cut he rarely performed, wasn't on it. It never was. But during the encore, he looked over his shoulder at you backstage, smirked, and softly said into the mic, ''Think I'll do one more.'' And just like that, he launched into it.

When he sang the bridge, his eyes finding yours for a split second in the wings, it had felt like a secret. Like he was saying, I see you. I know, and you'd known you'd never be the same after that.

''Don't say things like that,'' you say quietly, forcing a smile. ''I might start thinking you actually like me,'' you joke, a futile attempt to lighten the tension that's suddenly growing between you.

There's a pause. Too long. You risk a glance at him, only to find him already looking at you.

''I do,'' he says.

Just that. Without a teasing lilt to his tone, or the shit-eating grin he usually wears that tells you he's just messing with you.

Your breath catches. Your fingers freeze on the keyboard. ''Harry…''

''I know.'' He looks away quickly, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. ''I shouldn't have said that. You're… important. To me. To the crew. I can't mess that up.''

The silence that follows is loud. You can hear your heart pounding. Feel the ache in your chest, years of unspoken want stretching tight between you.

You glance up at him. And for the first time in months, you let yourself see it. The flushed pink at the tips of his ears. The subtle quickening of his breathing. The way his hand flexes on his thigh like he's stopping himself from reaching for you.

His gaze drops to your lips.

''You don't know how long I've wanted to kiss you,'' he says suddenly, voice barely a whisper, like he doesn't even realize he's saying it out loud.

Your mouth goes dry.

''So why haven't you?'', you whisper. He blinks like he hadn't expected the question.

Then, quietly, he says, ''Because I can't lose you. I reckon the team would fall apart without you. You're too good at your job for me to screw it up... just so I could finally have you.''

You can't breathe. Not when he's looking at you like that. And still, even now, you almost chicken out. Almost.

But then your voice breaks through the thick silence, soft and unsteady.

''What if I said I wanted you to?''

His jaw tenses.

You feel it before you see it, the moment he snaps. Quietly, calmly, but undeniably.

His hand slides over your laptop, closes it, and sets it aside.

''Then come here,'' he says, voice low and dark. ''And let me show you how long I've been waiting.''

And suddenly, you're not just sitting beside your boss anymore. You're alone (well, you're shielded from the rest of the cabin by only a curtain, but close enough) with the man who's been undressing you with his eyes for months. Who knows what you look like on two hours of sleep. Who knows your parents' birthdays, your calendar, the way your lips part when you're concentrating too hard.

And now, you swear he knows the exact second your thighs press together under the blanket.

You hesitate.

Not because you don't want him. God, you want him. But the rest of the crew is right there, just past the curtain. His manager's asleep two rows in front of you. Someone else stirs faintly behind you.

''Harry,'' you whisper, panic tugging at your voice. ''There are people.''

''I know,'' he murmurs, shifting closer. His thigh presses against yours, thick and warm beneath the blanket. ''We'll be quiet. Won't we, sweetheart?''

Sweetheart.

It wrecks you.

His fingers slip beneath the edge of the plush blanket. Nothing scandalous, just resting on your leg, but the promise in the gesture sends heat rocketing through you. You feel like you've been lit from the inside out.

''You can stop me anytime,'' he whispers, lips ghosting your ear. ''But if you let me keep going…'' A pause. A low, shaky breath. ''I'm not gonna be sweet about it.''

You breathe in too fast. Your lungs are full of him: his cologne, his warmth, the tension radiating off him like a second skin.

And you nod.

One small nod.

That’s all it takes.

His hand slides higher.

Slips under the waistband of your shorts. Over your bare thigh. Slow, reverent strokes, like he's committing your skin to memory. You try to stay still. Normal. But your breath is already shaking, and his hand is so sure. Confident. Dangerous.

''You've been wearing these shorts on purpose, haven't you?'' he whispers, breath tickling your neck. ''Walking in front of me. Bending over at every venue. Teasing me. Torturing me.''

You shake your head, a weak protest, but he just chuckles, dark and low.

''Liar,'' he murmurs.

And then his fingers brush the edge of your panties.

You jump. Just a little. But his hand steadies you, palm flat on your thigh, thumb brushing soft circles against your skin.

''Easy,'' he breathes. ''Let me touch you. Please, Y/N. Let me feel how wet you are for me.''

The sound your throat makes is borderline embarrassing, a choked gasp you barely catch in time. You grip the blanket tighter. Focus on breathing, on staying quiet.

''Shh, darling,'' he breathes, voice cracked and needy. ''You're gonna get us caught.''

He doesn't rush.

He slides two fingers over your clothed center, slow and deliberate. Feels the damp heat there and groans, quiet and low, like he's physically in pain.

''Fuck, baby,'' he whispers under his breath. ''You're soaked.''

You bury your face in your hand, heat crawling up your neck at the filthy words coming from your boss' mouth. ''Harry—''

''You've been like this the whole flight?'' he hisses, fingers pressing harder, rubbing circles through the fabric. ''Sitting beside me like a perfect little assistant, meanwhile your cunt's fucking throbbing under that laptop of yours?''

You nod, throat too tight to answer. His fingers trace over the damp fabric, slow and teasing, his touch maddeningly gentle; not enough to satisfy, just enough to torture. He keeps his eyes locked on yours like he wants to watch the moment your self-control snaps.

You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily. His hand is caught there now, stuck between them, exactly where he wants to be.

''Don't do that,'' he warns, voice tight. ''Don't hide from me.''

He presses down harder, fingers deliberately rubbing you through the soaked fabric. To anyone watching, it might not even look all that suspicious. But under the blanket, he's drawing filthy, lazy circles over your clit, just soft enough to make you squirm.

''You like bein' good for me, yeah?'' he murmurs against your temple, breath hot. ''Such a good assistant. Always do what you're told.''

You nod desperately, your hips rolling into his touch before you can stop them. He slides your underwear to the side with a practiced flick of his fingers, making you jolt again, whimpering in your throat. His fingers are on your bare pussy now, hot, thick, and teasing as he parts you slowly, lazily.

''You're gonna make me come in my fucking pants,'' he grits, barely moving his wrist as he slides a finger between your folds. ''You have no idea what you do to me.''

You're shaking.

You've fantasized about this on hotel beds, in green rooms, on long drives while he slept beside you in the tour bus. But nothing could've prepared you for the way he touches you. The way he whispers filth in your ear like it's poetry. Like every word comes straight from his heart.

''Open your legs for me, love,'' he says. ''Let me in.''

You do.

Without hesitation.

You shift, knees falling apart just enough under the blanket, and he rewards you by sliding one thick finger inside.

You gasp, one hand flying to cover your mouth and the other gripping his thigh under the blanket, nails digging in, as he pumps his finger slowly, gently, curling it right against your spot, like he's known your body for years without ever having touched you.

''There she is,'' he murmurs. ''That's my good girl.''

Your eyes roll back.

You grip the seat, try to breathe through your nose and bite your lip so hard you taste blood, your entire body trembling from the effort of staying silent. But he's not being merciful. He's savoring it. Twisting his wrist, adding a second finger, fucking you slow and deep under the cover of that soft blanket while the rest of the crew sleeps just feet away. He scissors you open, making you gasp out softly behind your hand, pressing his thumb to your clit with just enough pressure.

''You're so tight,'' he groans softly. ''Gonna take my cock so fucking well.''

You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your hand to stay silent. When you flutter them open slightly, you notice it.

His other hand is moving.

You blink through the dim light.

He's gripping himself under the blanket.

''Harry—''

''Shh,'' he whispers. ''I'm not gonna fuck you yet. Just need your hand. Need to feel you, baby, please.''

You stare at him, dazed. He's got your cunt stretched on two fingers and now he's hard too, thick and flushed and leaking against his fist, the stupid blanket draped over you blocking most of your view.

This shouldn't be happening.

You're his assistant. His team is right there.

And yet your hand is already moving before you can think twice, already wrapping around the base of his cock, warm and slick and heavy in your palm.

''Fucking hell,'' he breathes, his eyes squeezing shut as his head falls back. ''Y/N…'' he pants softly, his chest rising and falling hypnotically.

You stroke him slowly, in rhythm with the way he's fucking your cunt with his fingers. It's a miracle no one's noticed, everyone either asleep or wearing noise-cancelling headphones, the lighting dim, the blanket mercifully thick.

''You feel so good,'' he whispers, leaning closer. ''So warm and wet and perfect. Fuck, I've thought about this every night, getting myself off in the bathroom of every fucking venue while the whole team's waiting for me. I see you watching me every show, looking at me with those doe eyes, practically begging to be fucked, aren't you, baby?''

You whimper, pace quickening. His hips stutter into your hand, his fingers curling hard inside you.

You let out a soft, pained moan into your palm, thighs shaking as he pumps into you faster now, fingers slick and relentless. Your orgasm slams into you, sudden and all-consuming, and your body goes tight, locked up against the seat as he works you through it. Tears sting your eyes as the pleasure tears through you in silent, pulsing waves, Harry whispering praises against your ear as you shake through it.

He groans softly, barely audible, lips brushing your ear as you come undone in his hand.

''That's it. That's my girl. So quiet. So fucking good.''

You stroke him faster now, emboldened. He thrusts into your hand, sharp and desperate.

''I'm gonna come,'' he warns, voice breaking. ''Fuck. Gonna come all over your hand, sweetheart.''

You grip him tighter.

His breath catches, and then he's spilling in your hand, hips jerking, quiet curses hissing through clenched teeth. You feel it coat your skin, warm and messy beneath the blanket.

Neither of you moves for a long moment.

Just panting.

Reeling.

Your hand is still under the blanket, sticky and warm. His hand is still between your thighs, thumb brushing soft circles against your skin as you try to recover.

It takes a full minute before you can breathe again, and when he finally pulls his fingers from you slowly, your body shudders at the loss of connection. He brings them to his lips, sucks them clean without shame, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

''Taste even better than I imagined.''

You stare at him, wide-eyed, wrecked. Boneless. He just smirks, brushing your hair back like nothing happened.

''Next time,'' he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collarbone, your neck, your jaw. ''I'm fucking you.''

You shiver.

A curtain rustles behind you, someone getting up to grab a water, and you both quickly pull back, sitting up straight.

Like nothing happened.

Like you're just two co-workers sitting beside one another, watching the clouds.

But under the blanket, your hearts are still racing, your cunt still pulsing, the remnants of his release still coating your hand.

And the line between boss and assistant?

Officially obliterated.

''Now,'' he murmurs, settling back in his seat with a soft smile like he didn't just ruin you, ''about that Dublin setlist.''

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

[jarofstyles]

Use Your Head

Hi my love bugs!! Part two to Migraine is here. I'm sorry it took me a bit to edit. Last half of the original one shot but I am already planning/ have written a few patreon exclusive extensions for them. Enjoy!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 260+ exclusive writings

WC- 11.2k

Warnings- mentions of alcoholism/addiction, anxiety, prior bullying, smut, biting, soft dom!Harry, unprotected sex, creampie, slight moment of choking

Over the following weeks, Harry made a conscious effort to change how he interacted with Y/N. No more constant teasing, no more overly loud jokes to try and capture her attention. No more being straight up obnoxious. 

Instead, he found himself bringing her coffee on days he knew she was fighting a migraine, asking genuinely about her day, and going out of his way to make her life a little bit easier. It wasn’t just the guilt of it that was the driving force. Y/N was so lovely, so sweet. He’d been stupid to think that just because she was quiet that she was being judgmental or that she didn’t like him- because if he’d bothered to sit and listen to the whispers she did let out, he’d have been as enamored as he was now, months ago. And that was saying something considering how his crush had festered.

 Oddly enough, he had shared bits of his life with her that he usually kept private. It was something his therapist said was a defense mechanism for him, using humor to get people to like him but also succeed without opening up- but Y/N seemed to genuinely listen. She remembered stuff he said about his childhood dog or the fact cilantro tasted like soap to him. And to his surprise, she started opening up too - albeit cautiously. Her quiet demeanor made their late-night office chat sessions when they had to finish projects more special somehow, each small exchange feeling earned rather than forced.

It had started with her coffee order- iced mocha when she was drinking for enjoyment but an americano was ideal when she was approaching a headache for optimal caffeine. Then it ventured into the little fun facts that had him keeping a mental log of the obscure things he picked up along the way. 

She was really good at using chopsticks, she kept a tea kettle in her office and tea bags- including the ones he’d gotten her- which she would let him have if he asked.  She had a pet rabbit at home named Mocha, in honor of her favorite drink. She went to bed at exactly midnight (or tried to when her sleeping issue didn’t bug her) every night. She preferred the shape of anatomical hearts over the standard ones used for Valentine’s Day. She had an extensive TBR (he found out it meant To Be Read from google later) but she kept falling for sales and she was a sucker for a good romance so she had books in piles all over her place. All the things he learned were kept up in his head as precious information to use to make her feel more seen, more comfortable. 

So when she had mentioned having trouble falling asleep the last few days, he had taken it upon himself to grab her something his mum recommended. “It’s called sleepy time tea? S’got the cute bear on the box, so it must be decent.” He sat across from her in the break room, sliding the box across the table to her. “My mum used to deal with insomnia and she liked this one a lot. It may not fix everything but it helps make you drowsy.”

The woman glanced down at the tea box, a small smile tugging at her lips as she took in the cute bear illustration. She picked up the box, examining it further to see the ingredients before meeting Harry's gaze. "Your mum has good taste." She remarked, her voice soft but genuinely appreciative. Y/N tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture Harry was starting to recognize as a sign she was a little flustered. It usually followed something he did for her. "I'll give it a try tonight. Hopefully, it helps me sleep better than counting sheep."

“Mhm.. I hope so too. I don’t mean to keep throwing gifts and stuff at you, but I remembered you saying you were frustrated by it and figured I’d ask someone who’s dealt with that stuff before.” (Harry slept like a log,so he wasn’t much help.) He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a slightly anxious pattern. It wasn’t like he was going crazy- he mainly got her coffee or in this case, tea, but the last thing he wanted to do was make it seem like he was buying her friendship. “Did you submit your part of the project yet?”

"Yeah, finally got that done yesterday," The answer came with a small smile forming as she looked up from the tea box. "I actually managed to get through the presentation without forgetting any bullet points or stuttering this time." Placing the tea carefully in her bag, the corner of her lips curling up a bit more. Fucking adorable. "Thanks for checking in though. Most people don't care about these tiny details." The truth was, she found it sweet when he did. It showed he actually listened to her talking about work stress. "Want to grab lunch later?"

Harry's face lit up at her invitation, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I'd love that,"  He accepted easily, his voice warm and sincere. As if he would ever say no to that. "How about we go to that new sushi place down the street? I've been dying to try it out." Leaning back in his chair, he watched as she pulled up the menu on her phone. "My treat, of course. As a thank you for being so patient with me and my... previous behavior."

“Harry, you don’t have to keep making up for it. I believe you. We’re friends.” She sighed, tapping on top of the table. “You can let go of that guilt. Okay? You’ve proven yourself every day to me. As long as you don’t turn around and be a dick for no reason again, I’m fine. Really.”

A small laugh escaped him as he nodded, genuinely grateful for her understanding. It wasn’t something he probably deserved, but she was too good. "Alright, alright. No more guilt trips." He leaned forward on his desk, fingers drumming against the wood. "And I mean it, by the way. I'm truly not trying to buy your friendship with gifts. Though..." he pause. "If I wanted to treat a friend to sushi, would you say no?" The word 'friend' felt strange in his mouth now - almost too casual considering how much time they'd spent together lately.

She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t need you to treat me, H. Really.” It seemed like he did like to do it regardless but he’d be really sweet. As much as she didn’t need the extra things, the coffees or little treats he got her, it did make her feel appreciated- though she didn’t admit it too often because she knew he’d keep doing it.

"I know you don't need me to," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "But I want to. And besides, it's not like I'm buying you a whole new wardrobe or anything." He stood up from his desk, walking around to stand in front of her. "Let me just spoil you a little bit, okay? It makes me happy to do nice things for you." He gave her a small, sincere smile, his eyes searching hers. "Please?"

She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes but ultimately gave in to his puppy dog eyes. Those things were brutal. "Fine, fine," she conceded, crossing her arms over her chest. "But only because you look pathetic begging like that." 

Harry's face lit up with a triumphant grin. "See? Was that so hard?" He chuckled, ruffling her hair slightly before she could swat his hand away. "Alright, sushi it is then. My treat."

—-

Harry found himself more relaxed than usual during their lunch. He’d been dying to try it since he’d seen a review in the paper and there was no one else he’d rather eat with right now. Being around her felt exciting just as much as it was relaxing. She was so calm and sweet, making him feel at ease even though sometimes he felt like he was buzzing when she gave him her attention. 

Was this the shit he had been missing out on when he could have just spoken to her without acting out? He’d wasted a lot of time, but she was thankfully far more gracious than he would have expected her to be. They sat across from each other at a small table by the window, the sunlight creating a warm glow around them. The conversation flowed easily, no lulls. Y/N was by far the easiest person to talk to once she warmed up to you, and he was finding out the pleasures of getting closer to her every day. "You know," the man hummed, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, "the whole office is going to drinks tonight." He paused, studying her face. "Are you planning on..."

"Going?" She finished his question, laughing softly. "Probably. I don't go out much, so when they suggest it, I’ve been trying say yes." She picked up an egg roll, dipping it in soy sauce. "You?" She asked, meeting his gaze. He was struck by how pretty her eyes were, how they almost sparkled when she laughed. It was weird how beautiful she was. How people didn’t put their foot in their mouths like he had whenever he had been around her prior. It was distracting in the best of ways.  Damn it, he really liked her.

 "Yeah, I'll go," He said, pulling himself together. The last couple of times he had ditched mainly because he had been trying to catch up on some other stuff, but considering he knew for sure Y/N would be there? There was no way he wouldn’t. "The whole marketing team will be there. You too?"

"The whole marketing team," she confirmed, nodding her head. "Including Laura and Tom, who always end up drunk and arguing about whatever anyone wants to bring up." She took a sip of her iced strawberry açaí green tea, a small smile tugging at her lips at the memory of the last office outing where exactly that had happened. "And probably Jennifer from HR, who always tries to get everyone to play truth or dare like we’re still in school. I mean, considering she’s HR she has to know that would be a major violation. Sometimes I think she tries to get it to happen so she has something to do at work considering everything is usually relaxed." Y/N laughed softly, setting her chopsticks down. "Will you be there the whole time? Or will you bow out halfway through?" Sometimes Y/N got a little overstimulated from being out at places like that and she had to leave.

"I usually stay the whole time. You know me, supposed party animal." Harry shrugged his shoulder at the title.  She was like a different person when she wasn’t at the office. He was too, obviously, but it felt more dramatic when it came to her. "But actually I… I don’t drink.” His face shifted before he smiled again, though it didn’t fully reach his eyes. “I'm the one who usually calls cabs at the end of the night when everyone is hammered." The words seemed casual enough as he picked up another piece of sushi, but there was something unsaid. 

“Oh!” She was somehow a little surprised at that. Something about Harry did give ‘party animal’ but it was mostly his extroverted nature. “I’m glad you still come out then. I can have a drink or two if I feel like it but it’s not really my thing, you know? I’m not a fan of the taste so I go for the fruity or sweet stuff.” She set her chopsticks down to give her tummy a break. The suggestion had been really good, actually. It may as well be added to her take out rotation. “It’s nice of you to do that for them, Har. Really.” She had tried not to pay him much mind in the past but the kindness wasn’t overlooked now.

"It's no big deal," He waved off her compliment, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He always did it without expecting anything in return, but hearing her say it made him feel a little warm inside. He liked that she was noticing these things now. “I um, I used to struggle with alcohol. Drinking too much. It was a nasty habit I picked up in uni and I didn’t realize how bad it was getting.” Clearing his throat, he looked down towards his plate. “S’been 5 years. It doesn’t bother me to see other people drink so it’s fine when I go out. But yeah it’s… S’a interesting dynamic.” He had no idea why he chose now to tell her that. It wasn’t something he ever really talked about at all, but… Y/N felt like a safe person.

"You're the first person at work who knows about that." He admitted quietly, stealing glances at her face to gauge her reaction. He'd spent months being an asshole around her, and now he was trusting her with this? Something vulnerable, genuinely real. Something he usually only shared with close friends or his therapist. "Most people assume I just don't drink because I'm some kind of saint." He managed a small laugh, but it was edged with something more vulnerable. "Though I’d appreciate it if you could keep that between us. I’ll take the party animal jokes over them knowing..."

“Harry, I would never.” She interrupted, reaching for his hand with concern on her face. “First of all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You realized you had a problem and you did what you needed to do to better your life. That’s fucking amazing!” It was rare to hear her cuss but it felt like an appropriate time. “Addiction can happen to anyone at any time. But I can assure you there is no way in hell that I’d try and tell anyone your business. You trusting me enough to tell me that isn’t lost on me, okay?” Stroking her thumb over the top of his hand, she gave him a little smile.

"Damn." He laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing. He hadn't expected her to get it so quickly. Most people just made recovery sound like something that he should hide, like it was something dirty or shameful. She made it sound like any other condition. "You get it," He said slowly, his voice lower. "Like, really get it. You're not going to make a joke or something?" He wouldn’t have blamed her considering how he had treated her before. But Y/N would never. That was the difference. He had been a bit used to people reacting negatively.

“Nope. No need for jokes.” She didn’t even think about that. “We don’t even have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to. That information is safe with me. I don’t need anything else from it. We can just move on and talk about it another time, okay?” Squeezing his larger hand with her own, all she wanted to do was make him comfortable. They’d have to head back to work soon and she didn't want the conversation to get cut off if they got deeper into it, but she really appreciated him opening up. Never would she have thought that. Then again, even after the last few weeks of getting closer, there was still so much to him that she didn’t know.

Harry nodded, giving her hand a grateful squeeze back before reluctantly letting go as they both stood to throw out their trash. "Thanks." he said softly, meeting her gaze. "Seriously. That means a lot." As they walked back towards the office, he couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through his chest as their hands brushed each others every so often. She had handled that revelation with such compassion and grace, without any of the judgment he'd feared.

 It was yet another reason why he was slowly falling for her, despite his best efforts not to.

———

The usual crowd was filling up the bar - coworkers laughing loudly, ordering rounds of shots. Y/N sat at a high-top table with a few of the infamous marketing team members, sipping her second drink- another Diet Coke, as he had heard her order. Across the table, Laura and Tom were already getting heated in their friendly argument about the rightful winner of the Grammy’s. Meanwhile, Harry leaned against the bar, ordering water for himself and checking his phone occasionally, but mostly keeping an eye on Y/N.

 It was hard to keep his eyes off of her at all, especially after she had taken her blazer off and showed her arms in the tank top she’d had underneath it. So distracting, in fact, that he’d barely noticed someone from accounting, a blonde named Michelle he’d talked to a few times, saddled up next to him. "Hey Harry."

Michelle batted her eyelashes at him, ordering herself a vodka cranberry from the bartender before turning her attention back to Harry. "You're looking pretty bored standing here by yourself," She remarked, leaning against the bar next to him. "Why don't you come sit with us?" Her hand gestured towards a group of her friends from accounting, who were laughing and drinking nearby. Harry, however, barely spared her a glance before responding politely, "Nah, I'm good here. Thank you for the offer though."

"Come on, you're usually the life of the party. Don't tell me you're just going to stand here all night." Michelle persisted, adjusting her top slightly. Normally, that kind of fljrting could worked - but the way she had said it put him off. Besides, all Harry could focus on was Y/N laughing with her team members across the room. "Look, I actually need to... Excuse me." He mumbled, excusing himself from Michelle before she could protest. Finding his way back to Y/N, he leaned down to whisper her ear. It was closer than he usually got to her and he tried not to let that get him distracted. “Please help me. Michelle’s been bothering me the last few times n’I really don’t want t’be wrapped up in all of that.”

As he spoke into her ear, Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck, sending shivers down her back that she quickly ignored. Hopefully he wouldn’t be able to notice any of the chills on her arms. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating up close, the sweetened spice making it hard to focus on the task at hand - helping him avoid Michelle. "Uh sure- What do you need help with?" She asked, turning her head to look up at him, their faces inches apart. He looked so frustrated, and for some reason, seeing him like that made her stomach flutter.

His eyes locked with hers, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes that made his stomach drop - was it just the light, or was she actually looking at him like that? He pushed the thought aside, focusing on his problem. "Can you come t’the bar and lean into me or something?" He asked quietly. "So Michelle gets the hint that I’m not interested?" He needed a buffer, and Y/N being up close to him would probably do the trick. "Please?" He added, using his puppy dog eyes to his advantage.

Y/N obliged, standing up from her seat and following Harry to the bar. As they stood side by side, she leaned into his arm slightly, making it look like they were engaged in a conversation. Michelle, noticing it quite quickly, sauntered back over to the bar, looking miffed. "Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked, trying to insert herself between them. Harry wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist lightly, pulling her closer. "Not really the best time. M’in the middle of something.”

Y/N could take a hint, looping her arm around him in turn, leaning her face against his shirt. Giving a light smile, as a response to the woman who seemed weirdly annoyed that a man that had nothing to do with her was so close to another woman. “We’re gonna leave soon, so maybe you guys can talk another day.” It wasn’t exactly catty, but it was an insinuation that they’d be leaving together. 

Michelle could put things together and make up her own mind. They could deal with that gossip later.

Michelle's face dropped, clearly not expecting such a casual display of familiarity between them. Harry felt Y/N's head resting on his chest and almost lost his breath for a second - it felt more natural than it should have. Her slight weight against him made his arm circle around her waist more securely, and he tried to focus on maintaining his composure instead of how good she smelled right now. "Yeah..." He said to Michelle, letting the word trail off as if he couldn't even be bothered with her now. "I'll catch you later."

As they stood there, Y/N's hand found its way to his back, her fingers running over the fabric of his blazer and then his dress shirt underneath. It was a simple, casual gesture, but it sent a jolt of warmth through Harry's entire body. He felt like he was melting, his arm around her waist tightening slightly as he tried to subtly pull her closer. Her hand felt so small and warm against his back, and he found himself leaning down slightly to nuzzle his face into her hair, breathing in her scent. “S’this okay with you?” He was double checking for her assurance. “Don’t want you to feel like you have t’make yourself uncomfortable for me.”

Michelle had walked away and Y/N didn’t feel the need to pull away. As nerve wracking as it was, she tried to push them off as she had felt him relax into her. He was sweet, he really was. This was the Harry under all the layers of peacocking and jokes. The type of man she actually really had begun to like.  “I’m okay.” Tilting her head up to meet his eyes, she gave him a shy smile. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah. M’great, actually." He responded softly, watching her face. God, she was so pretty. Here she was making his stomach flip with one small smile. "You know what would make this a little more believable?" He asked quietly, his voice lower than before. He was testing the waters, really. He had no idea if she'd go along with this. "If I put my hands here." He demonstrated slowly, spreading his hands over her lower back. “S’that good?”

As his hands found their way to her lower back, Y/N could feel the tingling spreading across her stomach and up her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching, trying to gauge his expression. His hands felt big and protective on her back, making her feel small and safe. She didn't pull away, instead, she found herself leaning into his touch slightly. "Yeah, that’s... It’s nice." The reply was whispered, hoping he didn’t catch the slight quiver in her breath.

Harry watched closely as she swallowed hard, her eyes flicking down to his mouth briefly. Truthfully he was an idiot for thinking doing this would have no effect on him - here she was making his body react like he was a teenager again. It hadn’t been thought through- that didn’t mean he would stop, though. His thumbs moved slightly, massaging her lower back lightly. He saw her eyes close softly, almost like she was enjoying it.

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing her ear. "You're doing great," he murmured, his voice a low, soft rumble. He couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit against him, like she was meant to be there. His hands shifted slightly, pulling her a fraction closer. "Michelle's long gone now, but..." He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "D’you think we pretend for just a little longer?"

"Mhm," she hummed softly. It was hard not to show that she was borderline giddy at the suggestion. Her hand pressed more firmly against his back, hooking her fingers in his belt loops showing she had no plans to move away anytime soon. Instead, she leaned her head to rest back against his chest. 

The way her body fit against his was doing things to him - things he shouldn't be thinking about right now. Like about how she smelled so good it was making him feel antsy to inhale her scent. 

"How long d'you need?" She asked, her voice soft but steady. A small smile played on her lips as she felt his heartbeat against her ear.

"Just... five more minutes, maybe." He murmured, his voice hoarse. He didn't want to let her go, not yet. Not when she felt this good in his arms. "And then... maybe we could go somewhere quieter? Talk, if you want?" He suggested, his hand slowly sliding up her back and down to her hip. Harry was playing with fire, he knew that, but he couldn't help himself. Not when she was being so sweet, so willing to do this with him. 

“Yeah. You can drive me back to my place. Or yours.” It was a decision in a while that she was going to let him  read into however he wanted. Y/N was welcoming any bit of what could happen. If it was to truly talk somewhere else, or… more. She would be open to it.

The words had him almost losing his breath, his body tightening slightly. He wasn’t sure what he’d imagined her response to be, but it certainly hadn't expected her to suggest that. "So if I said... let me take you home to mine' - you wouldn't have a problem with that?" He asked slowly, his thumbs moving back and forth on Harry lower back possessively. He was trying to read between the lines. Was she being friendly, or was she being flirtatious? Christ, he hoped it was the latter.

“No. No problem with that.” In any other circumstances, she’d be embarrassed with how breathy her voice sounded as she replied to him. His voice was deep and soft just for her, making her feel the heat pooling in her tummy. “You can take me home, Harry.”

His pulse quickened, hope surging through him at her breathy confirmation. He swallowed hard, letting it hit him with how much he wanted this. Wanted her. "Alright then," the answer was spoken, his voice thick with restrained desire. "Let's get out of here."

———-

The drive to his place was silent but tense, filled with unspoken words and heavy glances. As soon as they pulled into his driveway, Harry turned off the engine and looked at Y/N, his eyes searching hers for any bit of apprehension- but he found none. She seemed at peace, if not a little bit happy about the situation, and he wasn’t about to waste any time. Getting out of the car, he walked around to her side, and opened her door for her - a gentlemanly habit he'd picked up and kept up. He led the way to his house, unlocking the door and stepping inside, closing it behind them.

“Did you really want to talk?” Y/N asked, peering up at him from her lashes as she took a step towards him. The foyer of his house was dimly lit, but she could see how intently he was staring at her. “Or did you bring me home to do something else?”

"I had some things I wanted to say, yeah." he admitted quietly, his voice deeper than she had heard it before, similar to how he’d spoken at the bar. There was an edge to it, one that made her feel… exhilarated. "But right now..." His hand found her waist naturally, pulling her into him. "I think there's something else I want more." He paused, his thumb moving in small circles on her hip.

“Yeah?” She whispered back, allowing herself to lean into him. “And what is that?”

"You." The words whispered were cut off before she could respond, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It started slow, almost questioning- as if he was waiting for her to pull away. Giving her the chance to do so. But when she didn't, when she leaned into it instead, his free arm snaked around her to pull her even closer. The kiss deepened, becoming a little more desperate as he felt her against him. His fingers tightened on her hip, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek, tilting her head slightly to kiss her more thoroughly.

Y/N melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back just as needy. A small noise escaped the back of her throat, one that he swallowed with his mouth greedily. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly as she felt him groan against her lips.

Her fingers in his hair made him feel like he may lose it a little bit. Everything about Y/N called to him, but her knowing what to do without ever being told spurred him on further. Deepening the kiss further, he traced her bottom lip with his tongue and bit back a second groan at what he found. She tasted fucking perfect - sweet and subtle, like honey and peppermint, a tiny hint of her sticky soda from the bar. His own personal new favorite flavor. 

 One hand slid down her back to palm over her ass while the other cradled her face, keeping her exactly where he wanted her, practicing that control he liked to keep. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, matching his own heartbeat- But when she let out the soft whimper against his lips as it seemed like he may pull back, pressing herself closer against him instead?  Harry thought he might lose his mind.

Harry pushed her carefully backwards, taking her with him until she hit the wall. Breaking the kiss, he started to trail his lips down her neck, sucking and nipping gently at her wherever he could reach. "You taste so sweet." He murmured against her skin. "I want t’kiss you everywhere." It punctuated his words with a particularly hard suck on her neck, knowing it would leave a mark- wanting it to leave one- as his hips pressed against hers, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him.

She gasped, head tilting back to give him better access. Hands fisted in his shirt, she tugged him closer as she felt the hard evidence of his arousal press against her stomach. "Harry," she whimpered, voice shaky. "Bite me." The words were out before she could even think about them, a demand rather than a request. She wanted his mark, wanted evidence that this really happened. Even if it was just for tonight- though she wanted more than just once. “Please? Jus’ a little bit. I want to feel your teeth on my neck.” Her hips rocked forward slightly, seeking friction.

The growl that rumbled in his chest at her words was primal, sending a shiver through her body. "Fuck, you're perfect." Harry murmured before grazing his teeth against her sensitive skin and sinking them into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He bit down hard, not with the goal of breaking the skin but applying enough pressure that she would definitely have a mark in the morning- just as she requested.

She cried out, arching her back to give him more access as he bit down. He could feel her nails digging into his back through his shirt, pulling him closer as if she was afraid he might stop. "More." Y/N begged, panting heavily. "Harder." What she wanted was  the ache, wanted the reminder on her skin that he was really here, really doing this. "Harry, please..." She whimpered, turning her head to try and pull him into biting her again. "Again."

“I’ve got t’be careful, sweetheart.” He cooed against her skin, nipping underneath the mark he had left. “Do you like the pain, hm? Or do you like the marks?”

Y/N moaned, trying to tilt her head further to give him better access to her neck. "Both," she breathed out shakily, her body tensing as he nipped underneath the mark. "I like the pain because it hurts so good, and I like the marks because they remind me... they remind me you were really here, doing this, not just in my head." She was rambling, but she couldn't seem to shut up as he kept marking her up. "Can you give me another one?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, you can have another one." He crooned, biting down on the same spot on the other side, applying a little more pressure this time. There was doubt in his mind that he could really say no to her, not when she asked him with that tone, those eyes, and the taste of her on his tongue.  He could feel her trembling against him, hear the desperate whimpering sounds she was making. He loved it, loved how responsive she was to him, how easily he could reduce her to a shaking mess. 

"Fuck, look at you..." He murmured, pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork. Sure enough, there were two perfect bite marks on either side of her neck. She looked claimed, marked - and Christ, it turned him on more than anything else. Before she could react, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up for another kiss. This one was rougher, more urgent than before, his tongue plunging into her mouth. One hand slid down her waist while the other tangled in her hair.

His fingers gripped her hair taut, holding her in place as he kissed her like he was starving for it, for her. His other hand squeezed her ass almost too tightly as he ground himself against her, conveying his mounting desperation without words. Each nip and suck at her lips sent jolts straight to his cock, making him impossibly harder, if that was even possible. He swallowed every whimper and moan greedily, addicted to her sounds.

"Fuck, darling." Harry whispered against her lips as he pulled back to let her breath. His hand slipped into her trousers to get a better handful of her, feeling her hum at the intrusion. All he needed was her warmth, the feel of her on his skin. He could die happy like that, most likely. 

Letting his fingers play with the edge of her panties, he knew he was in some sort of dream. After months of crushing on her, even when he had been failing, he’d dreamt of this. "You're killing me here." His breathing became heavier as he squeezed the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her harder against him. One hand kept her hair tight while the other dipped lower, almost slipping beneath the fabric but pausing uncertainly. "Can I..." he trailed off, waiting for her permission before actually sliding beneath, his voice rough with need. "Can I touch you, baby?"

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding almost frantically against his lips. "Yes, please." The reply was a shaking whisper, her heart racing wildly like a little hummingbird. "I want your hands on me, Harry. Anywhere, everywhere." She was so turned on, so desperate for his touch that she couldn't even think straight. His hesitation had only added to her desire, making her want him even more. "Just... please, touch me," she begged, her hips rolling against his in encouragement. "I need it."

"God, you're killing me." He growled softly, picking her up easily by her thighs. Realistically, he had been waiting for this day for ages and he wasn’t going to take her in his foyer- regardless of how badly he was tempted to. Y/N deserved a proper fuck, which included being in his bed. Somewhere she was meant to be. Hopefully one day they’d do it out here, but today was not that day. 

Thankfully there was no protest from his little dove, her legs wrapping around him automatically as he lifted her up, allowing him to walk them towards his bedroom without breaking the kiss. He couldn't get enough of her lips, her taste, anything that had to do with her. Greedy, he was so fucking greedy for anything he could get from her. 

Kicking his door open, he wasted little time dropping her onto his mattress softly, listening to her sweet giggle as she bounced on it. Watching hungrily as her shirt rode up slightly, the deposits of her body revealing more of her stomach. "Off." He ordered softly, unbuttoning his own shirt slowly. "Take your top off." Harry wanted it off. He needed to see her.

She sat up slightly, unbuttoning her blouse slowly, revealing the plain white camisole underneath that had been a layer under the sleeveless top. His eyes were locked onto her hands, watching intently as she revealed more and more of her silky skin. "Now the cami." He urged, his voice dropping lower as he unbuckled his belt, his mind desperate to see the heaven underneath.  His unbuttoned shirt tossed haphazardly onto the floor, revealing his tattooed torso. "I want it all off, sweetheart. Don’t want a lick of fabric between you and my hands."

Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the attention. She lifted the bottom of her camisole, slowly letting it peel off of her body to reveal her bare chest. Her breath hitched as she looked up at Harry, seeing that intensity in his eyes. He was staring at her like she was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, and it made her feel powerful, desired. Never in her life had she imagined that Harry of all people would be the one to make her feel that way. She let the man stare as he pleased, letting her hair fall off her shoulders from where she had it up as she sat there, completely bare from the waist up.

“Fuck me.” He groaned, hands itching to touch. Holy shit. He had almost lost it. Her body was insane - full breasts with pretty nipples that hardened under his gaze. He had the  urge to taste them, suck on them until she let out the pretty noises he’d gotten hints of - but he didn't move. Harry wanted to see all of her first. "Off, all of it. Told you. Need t’see all of you." He ordered again softly, his voice hoarse with restraint. He watched as she shimmied out of her pants slowly, revealing black lace panties underneath. "Baby," His voice was slightly breathless as she kicked the fabric off, letting it fall in a pile beside his bed. "I think… that you're trying to kill me."

The sight of Y/N naked in his bed almost knocked the breath clean out of him. Here was this incredibly sexy woman, somebody he'd fantasized about for months, laid out before him like a goddamn dream. The soft curves of her body, the smooth planes of her skin, those pretty tits moving in time with her slightly labored breath—it was almost too much. His cock was rock hard, straining against his zipper, aching to be buried inside her. “You are the most gorgeous little thing.” He murmured, undoing the button of his trousers as he stepped closer to her form. “I knew you would look good in my bed, but fucks sake, Kitten.” He reached for her face, tilting her chin up. “Think you were made t’be here.”

As he reached for her face Y/N shifted her mouth, catching his thumb between her soft lips and sucking on it gently. The feeling of her mouth wrapped around his thumb, the subtle tug as she sucked, was incredibly intimate and distracting. Harry's eyes rolled back slightly, a low groan escaping his throat as he stared down at her.

As Y/N sucked his thumb with increasing pressure, her other hand deftly moved to his zipper, tugging it down slowly. The sensation of her hot mouth contrasted deliciously with the cool air hitting his exposed skin. He couldn't help but shudder, his hips rocking involuntarily as his aching erection sprang free. "Holy fuck." he gasped, watching her through hooded eyes. She maintained eye contact, her tongue swirling around his thumb teasingly as her fingers brushed lightly over his straining cock.

He wanted those full lips wrapped around him so badly he ached. He wanted to feel her warm breath against his stomach, the gentle suction around the tip of his cock, the way she looked up at him with those big eyes. "Enough of my thumb. We both know what it is y’really want." He growled, his voice thick as he gently pulled her thumb out of her mouth, smearing her lipstick with the saliva coating his digit as he dragged it over her lip. 

"Think it’s time for you to wrap those pretty lips around something else now." Letting his trousers fall to the floor along with his briefs in one go was exactly what he needed. Hissing slightly, he grabbed his painfully hard dick in his hand and swiped the leaking slit with his spit and lipstick coated thumb, watching her eyes as they took in every motion. “See what you did t’me? Been doin’ this to me for ages, sweet girl.” He mumbled, guiding his cock towards her swollen lips. "Do you want to suck on it

like you were sucking my thumb?"

Y/N looked up at him with those big, doe eyes, her lipstick slightly smudged from the drag of his thumb. She could feel the warm, heavy weight of him in her hand as she wrapped her fingers around his base tentatively. She could already taste the saltiness on her thumb where she had swiped the bead of moisture from his tip. "Can I?" she whispered, parting her lips slightly, inviting him in. "Like this?"

"Fuck yes," he breathed out intensely, watching as those perfect lips parted. His hand moved to the back of her head gently, not pushing, but guiding. "Just like that. Nice n’slow for me." He wanted to savor the moment she took him in for the first time, make sure it felt good for both of them. Her small hand wrapped around his base felt amazing, but he needed more.

Y/N stuck her tongue out slightly, swiping over the tip of his length. He watched hungrily as she gathered the bead of liquid there, tasting him carefully. "Mhm," she hummed softly, wrapping her lips around her teeth to hide her smile. It wasn’t something he had expected but he found it incredibly sexy - she was savoring his taste. Her pink tongue peeked out again, licking over the head like a sweet, swirling around the sensitive underside. Surely it was something he should have expected, but it made him shiver slightly, his hips jerking involuntarily. “Shit. You’re a sweet little thing everywhere, aren’t you darlin’?”

His dirty words made her stomach flutter and her core clench. She liked them too much, especially when they were laced with that deep voice. She dragged the flat of her tongue slowly down his length from base to tip. Taking her time with him was exactly what she wanted. Weeks of getting to know each other, the quiet attraction building until it was too loud to ignore, this had been on her mind more than she could admit yet. His stomach contracted sharply as she did it again slowly, watching him through her lashes. Y/N was putting on a show. 

The woman wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to bend to her and feel as much as she had.

Harry was losing his mind. His hips were rocking gently, trying to encourage her down further each time she swiped her tongue down. She was torturing him slowly, deliberately - he could see the mischievous glint in her eye behind her lashes. He could feel his orgasm beginning to roll over just from her tongue lathing over him - but she hadn’t even taken him in her mouth yet. "Tease." The groan was loaded as he scraped her hair into his hand, pulling her back up to the tip. “C’mon, sweetheart. Suck on me a bit. Rub your little clit while y’do it. Get yourself wet f’me.”

She let out a shaky breath at his command, slipping one hand between her legs. Her fingers found her clit easily, already swollen and sensitive from all the teasing and tension they had between them. While she circled herself slowly, she opened her mouth wider, letting the tip of his length slide between her lips.  Moaning softly, vibrations pulsing around him as she slowly worked herself with her fingers. 

She was beautiful - eyes closed, lipstick smudged, fingers busy between her legs while she took his cock into that perfect mouth.

Harry knew she was getting wetter just from the sounds she was making around his length as she suckled gently, her fingers busily rubbing herself beneath his watchful eye. The slick sounds of her cunt against fingers, he knew she had to be dripping for him. He wanted to be inside that cunt so badly it hurt, but watching her pleasure herself while she took him into her perfect lips slowly was a blessing he had never anticipated getting the honor of experiencing. The feel of her soft, hot little mouth wrapped up around him, a sensation he had been gagging for. "Deeper, kitten. Y’can take some more while you rub that clit, yeah?” He encouraged hoarsely, his hand carding through her hair.

Y/N hummed around him, taking him deeper. His tip hit the back of her throat and she swallowed slightly around him, making him hiss sharply as she gagged a little. “Shit, baby. Are you alright?” His hand held her cheek, wiping the tear that had spilled accidentally from her gagging. “Didn’t mean t’do that. M’sorry, precious.”

 “I’m okay. Just didn’t anticipate it.” She reassured him, pulling back slightly to catch her breath. A devastatingly beautiful and filthy smile was painted on her slightly swollen lips before she pursed them, wetting him with her saliva and taking him back in. Mindful of his size, she relaxed her jaw and her throat as much as she could, letting him slide further back. Her fingers moved faster between her legs, swirling around her sensitive pearl.

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuck your fingers, Kitten. Get yourself open a bit for me. Need to be in that cunt soon.” He pleaded, eyes rolling back as his tip hit the back of her throat. The noise she let out was filthy, downright nasty, but she didn’t attempt to pull back. She stayed there with her throat spasming around his cock, breathing heavily through her nose. “Oh, for fucks sake… my girl.” He muttered in awe, mouth hanging open. “Should’ve known y’would be a filthy fuck. So quiet and sweet… Read all those dirty books, don’t you?”

"Mhm..." Y/N hummed around him intentionally, pulling back slowly before taking him deep again. Her fingers moved faster, sliding inside herself, stretching herself ready for him. He was big and she knew it was good to get herself ready, but part of her wanted to feel the stretch. She pulled back completely, leaving a trail of saliva along his shaft. “But you like that I’m dirty.”

"I fucking love it." He groaned, feeling his dick pulse as it hit the back of her throat one last time. At this rate he’d be spilling in her mouth sooner rather than later, but they both needed more than that. "Love that you're so quiet and sweet on the outside but a whole different person on the inside." He pulled her head back further, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a wet pop. "Now, get on the bed and spread those legs for me. Need to see that cunt before I fuck it." He demanded, his voice rough as the words tumbled out. "Want you to show me how wet you are for me, sweetheart." His voice was rough, heavy with lust as he gripped his dick in his hand and stroked it using her spit as he watched her get up back onto his bed, laying back in the duvet. "Spread those thighs nice n’wide. Want to see if you're ready for my cock." Harry wanted to taste her pussy, wanted to watch her fingers disappear inside that tight hole. 

He wanted to devour her.

Y/N listened, throwing one leg over the other slowly, spreading herself open for him just as he asked. Using two fingers, she circled her clit slowly, letting her head fall back slightly with a small moan. He watched every movement, feeling  himself pulse in his hand as she slid two fingers inside herself easily, working herself open with a muffled whimper. His mouth watered - she was wet, so fucking wet and all for him.  There was no way in hell that he was going to be inside of her and not keep her. None. 

His jaw tightened as she added another finger, stretching herself wider. The view was his favorite, watching her free hand knead her tits and arching her back as she fucked those fingers in- the lewd sound of her wet cunt making him swallow back his groan. Holy shit.

Her fingers slipped out with a wet sound and she brought them to her lips, sucking her arousal off with a needy whimper. "Please, Harry. Fuck me already." She begged, her hips lifting off the bed restlessly. "Been waiting for this for so long. Need your cock." Her head tilted back and she licked her lips, staring up at him with fuck-me eyes. "Stop teasing and just fuck me already." The desperation in her voice was clear, pussy throbbing and empty, craving him.

It wasn’t at all something anyone would expect from her, let alone Harry. She was so quiet at work, kept to herself, gave her shy little smiles- and here she was. Laying on his comforter, thighs spread as she exposed her cunt to him with the taste of herself on her own tongue, begging for his cock. It was a very quick lesson he was learning- when Y/N asked him for something, he was most likely going to give it to her.

"You're a little minx, Y’know that?" He growled, running his cock through the mess she’d made of herself before lining himself up with her entrance. "This isn't going t’be slow or sweet, sweetheart. We’ll have to save that for another time. You want me t’fuck you?" Pressing the head into her hole, he watched as her back arched off the bed ever so slightly with her hand reaching for his wrist. “S’alright, baby.” Harry softened his tone.” M’just teasing. I’m giving it to you. Just lay there and look pretty. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Pushing forward slowly, he let himself fill her inch by inch. Finally. Feeling the spasms of her cunt as he rocked his hips in, getting nice and snug as he got all the way inside of her, he couldn’t deny himself the moan that left his lips. The heaven that was her cunt wrapped around him had his body feeling hot, each roll of his body feeling her tighten up around him.

"Baby, fuck." He hissed as she wiggled slightly beneath him, her inner muscles clamping down around him experimentally. "Stop that. Don’t want t’cum too quickly." He warned hoarsely, watching her body as he filled her up. The stretch of her pussy around the girth of his cock, lips clinging to him as he pulled out and pushed back in was fucking lethal. There had been effort to slowly work her up to it, but he needed to fuck her harder. Wanted to hear the little gasps and moans coming from her beautiful mouth. "Goddamn. You're tight, baby, So fuckin’ good." He grit his teeth as she flexed again, his hips bucking forward suddenly, watching her tits bounce slightly with the force.

He kept snapping his hips forward, filling her up over and over again, the wet sounds of her taking him filling the room. Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist as she tried to pull him deeper, her nails clawing at his chest as she whimpered and whined beneath him, breathing heavily as Harry talked lowly to her. "You like it rough, sweetheart. Can feel it. Got you dripping on this cock…" He growled, his hands going to her thighs and pushing them up and back, opening her up wider as he drove into her again and again. "Like being manhandled, bitten… what else?"

"Yes... yes, just like that- I like all of it." She gasped, her voice breaking slightly as he nailed particularly deep. He was definitely the biggest of the dicks she had ever taken and while she had thought it would be a struggle to fit it, Harry hadn’t hesitated in making her take it in the way she needed. Making her feel this full was a rarity and she wanted to feel it tomorrow, feel it everyday. The memory of his cock deep inside of her and his hands gripping her tight needed to be refreshed often and plenty. 

"Harder. I can take it, I promise." She whimpered, her nails digging into his arms, leaving crescent marks. Her hips met his thrusts eagerly, showing she was taking exactly what she wanted. "Talk to me. Love your voice so much." The girl breathed out, her face flushed with the pleasure he was so willing to give her. "Tell me how good I feel."

"You're taking it so well, baby." He cooed, angling his hips differently and hitting a spot inside her so perfectly she let out a choked noise. "Your little cunt is squeezing me so goddamn tight, like it's trying to milk every drop of cum from me." If she wanted dirty, he’d give her dirty. His filthy words echoed in the room as he kept fucked into her, watching her tits bounce before meeting her eyes. 

"Bet you'd let me fuck this needy hole anytime I wanted, hm?” Hooking her thighs over his arms, he looked down to watch her cunt swallowing him up. It was unreal to see it in person, in real time. It wasn’t just a dream. Y/N was in his bed, taking him inside of her- and she was loving it. “Bend y’over your own desk, turn the lights off and shove those scraps do fabric y’call panties into your mouth to keep you quiet. No one would bother us, think you’ve got a headache but… You’d really be taking my cock.”

It was absolutely something she had thought about, especially the last week. Y/N had her own fantasies and he had plucked that one from her head and spoke it out loud. If she wasn’t getting railed it would probably freak her out, how he had somehow read her mind- but it felt too good to think about anything but him inside of her. "You’d really do that? Fuck me on my desk?" She panted, her fingers playing with her hard nipples as he watched. “You said I-I’m the filthy one but you’re just as…just as bad.”

"You’re not answering my question." He chuckled darkly, snapping his hips up sharply and stealing her breath. "If I lifted that skirt up and bent you over your desk… Sunk my cock in this pretty hole. Would you take it?" He growled deceptively soft, his voice getting deeper. "Spread your legs wide, like you’re doing for me right now, and let me pound you while you keep quiet… Make you drip with my cum all damn day? S’that something my pretty little kitten wants t’do for me?" He knew he was dirty, knew he was an asshole - but the mental image of doing exactly what he described had him leaking inside of her.

She threw her head back slightly with a small moan, "Yes, god yes..." She whimpered softly, her mind going crazy with the thought. "You could shove your hand over my mouth while you do it..." Her body tightened around him as the fantasy felt more real. He’d been so polite their whole newfound friendship. Maybe a dirty joke or two to make her roll her eyes. Y/N knew he could be dirty, had a feeling he could fuck, but having it in real life was so different than she had imagined. It was better. "You could pull my hair while you pound me from behind... You could..." She broke off with a gasp as he hit something deep inside her that had her seeing stars.

“I could what, baby?” He crooned, feeling the droplet of sweat slowly drip down the side of his face. This was by far better than any workout he’d had recently. His workout of choice, if he had one. The poor comforter was a goner and he knew it, but there was little care about anything other than getting her to cum around his cock. “S’getting hard to talk now, mm? Taking that cock so deep… Thinking about all those filthy things. M’gonna make sure you get fucked at your desk- Gonna make sure you get whatever fuck you want. But I want to feel you cum for me.” Lowering herself, he adjusted so her legs could wrap back around his hips as he got close to her face. “You‘re so good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.” That was no lie. “Been dying to get my hands on you since the very first day, and now m’not going to take them off.”

"Harry..." She whined softly, her body feeling hot and sweaty. Her thighs were slick with her juices mixed with his spit - he had spread them open and spat right onto her hole before pushing back inside. Y/N was getting close, just like he wanted. He had her legs spread wide again, watching every snap of his hips and how her pussy swallowed him. His deep voice was making her brain mushy. "Kiss me- Please?" She whimpered, dragging her nails up his back to hold the hair at his nape.

"Anything you want, baby." His lips crashed down onto hers, swallowing her whimper as he continued pounding into her. The kiss wasn't sweet or gentle - it was hungry and demanding, reflecting exactly how he was fucking her. Having her where he’d wanted her was borderline overwhelming. Finally having her, being able to taste her, feel her everywhere… That was a dream. Y/N was the dream.

 His tongue pushed into her mouth as he hit that perfect spot inside her again and again, pulling back to coax her into it. "C’mon baby. Can feel you so close t’cumming... you're right there.” The croon was heavy against her lips, feeling how she was moving against him, how she clenched around him. It was everything he’d needed. “Gonna fill this dirty little cunt of yours..." His hand moved between them and found her clit, pressing down firmly as he swiped in circles. “S’that okay, baby? Can I fill this pussy up?” His voice broke slightly, kissing her over and over between the words.

She kissed him back frantically, her arms wrapping around his neck as she squirmed with him rubbing her clit. It was too much, his dick hitting that spot, his fingers on her clit, the deep rasp of his voice as he asked if he could fill her up. It was a wet dream, but she knew she wasn’t asleep with how full she felt. Their bodies were damp with sweat, her thighs and his shaft covered in her slick, the throb she felt between her legs- there was no way any dream could make her feel this good. 

"Yes, yes, yes- give it to me. Give it all to me- you’re making me cum." She cried out against his mouth, her body seizing up as her orgasm hit her hard. “Oh my god, m’cumming. I’m cumming, you’re making me cum-“ The frantic words were cut off with a high pitched whine. Her cunt clamped down on his cock as she came, the wet sounds of him fucking her through her orgasm filling the room. "Har- fuck." The garbled moan escaped her as she took it, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

"Good girl, baby…" He praised softly, his voice muffled against her mouth as he kept pounding into her convulsing cunt. "You took it so well… Knew you would, my beautiful fuckin’ girl. Been waiting so long to have you, needed you since I met you." He moaned back, his hot breath washing over her face as he kept his cock filling her, in and out, getting her full over and over. “Soaking that cock… Don’t think I can last.” The feel of how slippery and hot her cunt was, feeling her trying to suck him in deeper, it was too much. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

"Cum inside me, please..." She begged softly, a cooed whisper as she felt him still fucking into her. Sensitivity made her shiver but she didn’t want it to stop- it oddly enough felt good, the little twitches of pleasure. "Fill me up, Harry. I want it all... I want you to cum so bad." She wrapped her arms tighter around him, holding him close as she felt him start to shake. "Give it to me. Let go... I’ve got you."

"You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me." His voice was thick with need, the way she held him close being the final straw. It was unlike what he’d experienced before. Being held that way, coaxed, her soft lips pressing against his sticky skin as she got them as close as possible, it was a new level of intimate he’d never expected from a first time with someone- but it was Y/N. Everything about her was soft and silky, comfort. The sweetest girl with his bite marks on her throat and her legs wrapped tight around his hips, pulling him in deep.

 "Fuck... I'm cumming baby" He groaned thickly, burying himself to the hilt as hot streams of his load filled her. The pleasure nearly made him feel delirious. Heart beating out of his chest, hand curled up in the comforter as his body stayed as close to her as possible. "Oh fuck.” He slurred, grinding into her. “Feel that? Feel my cum flooding your pussy, sweet girl?" The pulses of his cock as he finished made her whine, eyes fluttering as she sought out his mouth to kiss. When his hips stilled, he made sure to keep himself deep, wanting every drop inside her. "S'alright if this is my new favorite place to cum... between those pretty thighs?"

He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing her in as she nodded with a tired giggle. She was wrapped around him completely, like a vine, running her fingers up and down his spine and her lips finding him when he pulled up from her neck. He let out a happy sound as she pressed kisses to his face before he caught her lips again, humming against them. His body was heavy on top of hers, his softening length still nestled deep inside her warmth. His kisses were gentle and slow, his hands carding through her hair as he held her face close to his, needing to feel her breath against his face. "Love how you smell… like that peppermint tea y’always drink… and me." He murmured softly against her lips.

She released a soft giggle against his lips, feeling the ticklish slide of his stubble against her cheek. "Now you smell like me too, big guy." Her fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck as she gazed up at him, wrapped around him like a koala.  “But you said some stuff…” She raised an eyebrow as he pulled his face back to look at her. “You had a big crush on me?” Her tone was teasing, a little giddy from the knowledge. “You told me that before but it hits different when you’re balls deep.”

He groaned softly, shaking his head at her teasing as he rolled his hips lazily, feeling how her walls clenched around him. "Smartass." Though he grumbled, there was a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Yeah well, you had me chasing you for months, sweetheart. Little did you know, every time you told me to go away or that I was being obnoxious, my brain was a constant loop of 'fuck, she's gorgeous.'" He tapped her nose playfully. "So yeah, I had a crush. Have one. But m’not gonna ask you to be my girlfriend properly in this way so… Just know you’re mine, and m’gonna ask you in a far more romantic way for the proper title."

Y/n giggled again, feeling completely giddy and light - post-sex afterglow mixed with knowing he'd pined after her for so long. "Is it weird that you being such a weirdo turns me on?" She admitted with a laugh, running her fingers through his damp hair again.  “You better ask properly...That’s what I deserve." The tone was playful, but there was a dreamy look in her eyes as she thought about what romantic Harry might be like. The woman had vast knowledge of annoying Harry, Office Harry, and Friend Harry… but boyfriend Harry? Well, that made her giddy to think about. "If you ask nicely..." The hum was soft as she lightly pinched his cheek. “I may just say yes.”

“That’s my goal, cause I’m already planning on it.” That had always been his goal, even if he had completely fucked it up and had to start from scratch. Building them up was worth it, though. Having her so close, hearing her giggles, feeling her body warmth? All of that was priceless. “Gonna stock up on all your headache stuff here, too. Make sure you’ve got a stash. Have to make sure you’re taken care of always…” His lips split into another grin. “Even if I’m the cause of your headache.”

[deatheaterv]

HUNG THE MOON

pairing : harry potter x fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : harry potter secretly leaves you thoughtful gifts, too shy to approach.

the common room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. harry sat in the corner, fidgeting with a piece of parchment that he hadn’t written anything on. his heart thudded annoyingly loud in his chest as he glanced over to where you sat, curled up with a book on the couch.

you weren’t even doing anything extraordinary. just reading. but you had this way of existing that made it impossible for him to look away. he was sure if he tried to talk to you, he’d either trip over his words or worse, make you think he was some kind of idiot. so instead, he just sat there, thinking about how he could get closer to you without actually, you know, talking.

and then it hit him.

the next morning, a neatly wrapped package appeared at your usual spot in the great hall. it was small, tied with emerald green ribbon, and your name was scribbled on the tag in handwriting that was careful but a little crooked. inside was a tiny, enchanted quill that glowed softly when you wrote, perfect for late-night essays. no note, no explanation. just the gift.

you frowned, curious, but you liked it. it wasn’t every day someone left you something so thoughtful.

the gifts didn’t stop there.

the next day, there was a charm bracelet, each tiny trinket representing something from your favorite class. how they knew your favorite class was beyond you. the day after that, a soft scarf in your house colors that smelled faintly of cedarwood and something else comforting. each gift was small but meaningful, left without any indication of who was behind it.

you couldn’t help but smile every time you found one, though the mystery was driving you a little mad.

harry, meanwhile, was in shambles. he’d watch you from across the common room, his heart leaping every time you smiled at something he left for you. but he still couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

until one evening.

you were heading back to the dorms when you found him standing awkwardly near the stairs, his face redder than a howler.

“harry?” you tilted your head, stopping a few steps away.

he blinked, his green eyes wide as if he hadn’t expected to get caught. “uh—hi.”

you crossed your arms, the tiniest smirk playing on your lips. “so, are you going to tell me why i keep finding all these ridiculously perfect gifts or should i keep pretending i don’t know it’s you?”

his jaw dropped. “you knew?..”

“harry, you’re the only person in this house who stares at me like i’ve hung the moon,” you said softly, stepping closer. “i just couldn’t figure out why you didn’t want to talk to me.”

he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “i was scared. i didn’t think you’d… i mean, i didn’t want to bother you.”

you smiled, so warm and bright it made his stomach flip. “harry, you could never bother me. i think the gifts are sweet. but next time, maybe just… talk to me? i don’t bite.”

his cheeks turned impossibly red, but he nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “okay. i can do that.”

and he did. eventually. but for now, you just stood there, smiling at each other like two complete fools, neither one in any rush to move.

[harryspurpleloofah]

Just next door

Summary: the guy who just moved in next door invited Y/N over for coffee and she saw a sex toy. Him hearing her touch herself later that day evolves into phone sex

Warnings: swearing, female and male masturbation, fingering, phone sex, guided masturbation, mentions of reader hearing moans from Harry’s apartment while he hooks up with someone, I think like a tiny bit of swearing?

The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the small apartment as Y/N set two steaming mugs on the table near the window. Across from her, Clara perched eagerly on a chair, her fingers drumming against the ceramic mug in her hands.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Clara said, leaning forward like she was about to deliver life-changing news.

Y/N arched a brow. “What? Did someone steal your parking spot again?”

Clara shook her head, a grin already tugging at her lips. “No, it’s way better. I was coming up the stairs earlier, and guess who I saw?”

“Unless it’s Freddie Mercury, I’m not guessing,” Y/N replied dryly, taking a sip from her cup.

“A man,” Clara said, her grin growing wider. “A hot man. Like, ridiculously hot. And he was moving boxes into the apartment right next to yours.”

That got Y/N’s attention. She straightened slightly, setting her cup down. “The apartment next door? The one that’s been empty like…forever?”

“Exactly!” Clara practically squealed. “And let me just tell you, this guy is no ordinary neighbor. He’s tall, has this messy, curly hair, and..oh my God—he was wearing a sleeveless shirt while carrying all those boxes. His arms, Y/N. His arms. I swear they look like they belong in a museum.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a flicker of curiosity was in her. “Sounds like someone’s trying to show off.”

“Um, if you had arms like that, wouldn’t you?” Clara quipped. “He’s a walking thirst trap, I’m telling you. You should bake him cookies or something, just so I have an excuse to come back and see him again.”

“Yeah right,” Y/N scoffed. “The last thing I need is to deal with a cocky neighbor who probably spends more time flexing in mirrors than unpacking his boxes.”

Clara snorted, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t write him off just yet. You haven’t even met him. What if he’s sweet? Or mysterious? Or—”

“Or obnoxious,” Y/N interrupted. “Or loud. Or the kind of guy who blasts terrible music at all hours.”

“Or the kind of guy who’s so hot you won’t care,” Clara shot back.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “Let’s just hope he keeps to himself and doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Y/N was halfway through folding laundry on the couch when she heard a knock at the door. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the clock—7:30 p.m. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Clara had left hours ago, and most of her neighbors preferred to keep to themselves.

She padded over to the door and opened it. There he was.

The first thing she noticed was the curls—a messy tumble of dark brown waves that framed his face just right. Then her eyes caught on the white T-shirt stretched across his chest and the tattoos that peeked out along his arms, ink twisting down his skin like art in motion. He had a lazy, easy smile, the kind that could disarm anyone without trying.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm, slightly raspy. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Harry—just moved in next door.”

Y/N blinked, forcing herself to recover. Of course, he’s stupidly attractive, she thought, Clara’s earlier words ringing in her ears.

“Oh,” she said quickly, gripping the edge of the door. “Hi. Welcome, I guess.”

His smile widened a bit, his dimples appearing. “Thanks. Umm, I hate to be that guy, but do you happen to have a screwdriver I could borrow? I can’t find mine in all the boxes, and my bookshelf is dangerously close to collapsing on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not she wanted to prolong this interaction. But then she caught the faintest trace of hope in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely sure she’d help. That, and the hint of an accent lacing his words, made it hard to say no.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got one. Hold on a second.”

She left the door slightly ajar as she went to the kitchen drawer, rummaging around until she found the toolkit. When she came back, Harry was leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“Here,” she said, holding out the screwdriver. “You can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

He took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thanks. Lifesaver.” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

“Well, Y/N,” he said, his smile turning just a touch more charming. “I owe you one. First favor in the books already. You’re making it hard for me to be a bad neighbor.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as she tried to suppress it. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

He grinned, taking a step back toward his door. “I guess we’ll see. Thanks again, Y/N.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing in the doorway with a slight flush creeping up her neck and an unfamiliar warmth buzzing in her chest.

A month later, the café was buzzing with quiet chatter as Y/N stirred her iced coffee, the clinking of the ice against the glass the only sound between her and Clara for the moment. Across the small table, Clara was mid-bite of her sandwich, but the look in her eyes told Y/N she was just waiting for the right moment to drop something.

“What?” Y/N finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

Clara grinned, swallowing quickly before leaning forward. “Nothing. Just…how are things with your very hot neighbor?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she felt the faintest blush creep up her neck. “They’re fine. He borrowed a screwdriver the other day. That’s the extent of our interactions.”

She smiles, “Well when I pulled into the lot, your new neighbor..Harry, right? He was coming back from a run.”

Y/N looked up, her fork hovering in the air. “A run?”

“Uh-huh,” Clara confirmed, grinning now. “And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold. He was wearing these black running shorts and a tank top, and he was like, glistening in all the right places. I swear it was like watching one of those slow-motion workout montages in a movie.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Clara.”

“What?” Clara said innocently, though the glint in her eye betrayed her. “I’m just saying, the man has no business looking like that while casually jogging. And he looked so…relaxed about it, like he didn’t even realize every living being with eyes was staring at him.”

Y/N took a sip of her iced coffee, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. “Okay, you’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” Clara shot back, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The guy looks like he walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. How are you living next door to that and still functioning?”

“He’s just being neighborly.”

“Neighborly, my ass,” Clara said with a snort. “If he comes knocking again, you better invite him in for more than a tool. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Clara!” Y/N yelled.

“What?” Clara said with an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just looking out for you. If I had a neighbor like that, I wouldn’t waste a second.”

Shaking her head, Y/N stabbed at her meal, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. But Clara’s words lingered, teasing at the edges of her thoughts.

Because as much as she hated to admit it, there was something about Harry that made her wonder just how long she could keep pretending not to notice.

Lunch wrapped up soon with banter, but as the pair strolled back toward Y/N’s apartment, Clara looped her arm through Y/N’s, still buzzing with energy.

“So,” Clara said, bumping her shoulder. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Y/N smiled, unlocking the door to the building and holding it open for Clara. “What are you saying? You want to stick around and steal all my food again?”

“Obviously,” Clara replied with a grin. “Your popcorn is better than mine, and you know it. Besides, it’s been ages since we had a proper movie night. You’ve been sooo busy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as they made their way up the stairs. “I’ve barely been busy. You’re just dramatic.”

“Whatever you say,” Clara said breezily. “So…movies? Wine? Popcorn?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But you’re in charge of picking the movies this time. If I pick, you’ll just complain the whole time and then end up watching them anyway.”

“Fair point,” Clara said, shrugging. “Alright, deal. I’ll find something good.”

They reached Y/N’s apartment, and as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she glanced over her shoulder. “Just don’t pick anything sappy, alright? I’m not in the mood for tearjerkers.”

She opened the cabinet where she kept the popcorn. “Butter or kettle corn?”

“Both,” Clara said, plopping onto the couch and grabbing a pillow. “Oh, and maybe I’ll grab a blanket in case it gets cold. Can’t be too prepared.”

Y/N smiled. Clara’s energy was infectious, and as much as she liked having her space, she was glad for the company.

“Alright, movie marathon it is,” Y/N said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.

As the familiar hum of the TV filled the room and the scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted through the air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Despite Clara’s endless teasing, she was glad for the distraction.

Soon Y/N and Clara were sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty bowls of popcorn and half-finished glasses of wine. The action movie Clara had insisted on watching blared from the speakers, explosions and dramatic one-liners filling the space.

Y/N shifted under her blanket, stifling a yawn, when Clara suddenly sat up straighter, her head tilting to the side.

“Wait,” Clara said, holding up a hand to shush Y/N.

“What?” Y/N asked, frowning as she paused mid-sip of her wine.

Clara’s eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Do you hear that?”

Y/N froze, listening. For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the movie. But then, faintly, she heard it—a muffled rhythm, like the creak of a bedframe, punctuated by soft, indistinct noises.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

Clara’s mouth dropped open, and she slapped a hand over it to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God,” she whispered, leaning toward Y/N. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Shh!” Y/N hissed. Clara ignored her, pointing toward the wall that separated Y/N’s apartment from Harry’s. “It’s coming from his place, isn’t it? Your neighbor?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N muttered, gripping her glass a little too tightly.

But Clara wasn’t letting it go. She reached for the remote, pausing the movie mid-explosion. The silence that followed was deafening, except it wasn’t really silent at all. The noises became clearer without the distraction of the TV, and there was no mistaking it now. A low, breathy moan filtered through the thin walls, followed by another creak of the bed.

Clara gasped, her eyes wide with delight. “It is him!” she whispered dramatically.

“Do you think it’s…like, a one-time thing?” Clara whispered, barely able to keep a straight face.

“I don’t want to think about it at all,” Y/N whispered back, sinking deeper into the couch and covering her ears.

Clara grinned, clearly reveling in Y/N’s discomfort. “I mean, hey, at least you know he’s good at something. Not that you’ll ever find out, of course.”

Y/N grabbed a throw pillow and smacked Clara with it, eliciting a loud laugh. “Shut up!”

The next morning, Clara had left at about 9 AM and now Y/N had just settled on the couch with a mug of coffee when a knock at the door startled her. Setting the mug down, she padded over to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was standing there. Harry.

He was leaning against the doorframe, holding her screwdriver in one hand. His curls were disheveled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, but somehow he still managed to pull it off in a way that was unfairly attractive.

“Morning,” he said, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t used it much yet. “Thought I’d return this before I forgot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N said, taking the screwdriver from him. She hesitated for a second, her eyes scanning his face. “You okay? You look… tired.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you could say that. Had a bit of a rough night.”

She leaned against the doorframe, curious despite herself. “Oh? Something happen?”

Harry hesitated, his lips twitching in what might’ve been embarrassment or amusement. “Let’s just say I had one too many drinks… and some questionable company.”

Y/N blinked, her stomach doing a strange little flip. “Oh.”

He gave a dry laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not exactly my proudest moment. Went out to blow off some steam, ended up bringing someone back. She left early this morning, and now I’m regretting pretty much everything about it.”

Y/N tried to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. It wasn’t her business..he was an adult, and hookups happened. But still, the thought of someone else being with him, hearing those same soft, raspy tones directed at them, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Well,” she said, keeping her tone light, “I guess everyone has those nights, right?”

Harry smiled faintly, leaning against the doorframe. “Guess so. Just…doesn’t feel great, y’know? She was nice enough, but it was all a bit…empty.”

Y/N tilted her head, surprised by his honesty. There was something raw about the way he said it, like he wasn’t just brushing it off as a joke or a casual story.

Harry chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a tiny flutter through her chest. “Lesson learned,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly my proudest decision. I guess I was just…blowing off steam, y’know?”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Rough week?”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that. Moving’s been a bit of a whirlwind, and… I don’t know. I guess I’m still getting used to being here. New city, new place, no familiar faces. It’s a bit… lonely.”

Her expression softened. “I get that. Moving can be tough. When I first moved here, I didn’t know anyone either. It took me ages to feel like this place was actually home.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah? What changed?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just…let myself settle in. Met a few people, got into a routine. Eventually, it started to feel right.” She paused, feeling a pang of sympathy. “You’ll get there. It just takes time.”

Harry’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier, more intimate. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Anyway, you should probably get some coffee if you’re running on no sleep. It might help.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “You offering?”

She managed to keep her voice steady. “Sure, if you don’t mind instant coffee and a very stubborn coffee machine.”

Harry laughed softly. “Instant coffee sounds like heaven right now.”

“Well, come in then,” she said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “It’s the least I can do after you brought back my screwdriver.”

The apartment was warm and filled with the lingering scent of fresh coffee. Harry glanced around, his gaze landing on the cozy setup in the living room. “Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, heading into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee started.”

As she fiddled with the coffee machine, Harry leaned casually against the counter, watching her with an easy smile. “You’re sure I’m not interrupting anything? I don’t want to mess up your morning.”

“You’re not interrupting,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “It’s nice to have some company, actually. Most mornings it’s just me and my to-do list.”

Harry chuckled. “Sounds thrilling.”

“Oh, it’s the height of excitement,” she deadpanned, pressing the button on the coffee machine—only for nothing to happen. She frowned, pressing it again. Still nothing.

“Uh-oh,” Harry said, stepping closer. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah definitely not.”

“Is if broken?”

“I think so,”

He smiled softly, “No worries we can go to mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Besides, I really need that coffee.”

Harry’s apartment felt like stepping into a place that was truly lived in..a home, not just a space. The walls were painted a soft, warm cream, and natural light poured through sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. Potted plants thrived in every corner, adding bursts of green to the room. A woven throw rug lay beneath a large, overstuffed couch that was piled with mismatched cushions, some knitted, others patterned with earthy tones.

The coffee table was a mix of practicality and personality, a stack of books with worn spines, an old mug filled with pens, and a half-melted candle that smelled faintly of cedar and citrus.

In one corner, a record player sat atop a weathered wooden stand, surrounded by a scattering of vinyls leaning casually against the wall. Above it hung a cluster of Polaroid photos strung on twine with tiny wooden clips, each one capturing moments of laughter, travel, and faces Y/N didn’t recognize but instantly envied.

The kitchen blended seamlessly into the living space, its counters lined with signs of use: a ceramic bowl of fruit, a drying rack with a couple of dishes, and a cheerful tea towel hanging over the edge of the sink. The faint scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air as Harry stood at the counter, pouring steaming liquid into two mismatched mugs.

“You’ve got a really cozy place,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she took it all in.

Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small grin. “Thanks. Took me a while to get it feeling right. Guess I’m a sucker for a homey vibe.”

“You nailed it,” she said, her gaze drifting again.

She wandered over to a small shelf tucked beside the couch. It was cluttered in the best way…books stacked horizontally and vertically, a framed photo of what looked like Harry and his family standing on a windswept beach, and a small globe with the paint chipped in a few places. Everything about it felt warm and personal, like every item had a story.

“You can sit if you want,” Harry called out, his voice easy and light. “Promise I won’t be offended if you don’t want to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m fine. Just…looking.”

She continued her slow circle, her eyes catching on a door slightly ajar at the end of the short hallway. The bedroom, she guessed, though she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem like she was prying.

But then, as her gaze traveled to the other side of the room, something caught her attention.

It was on the floor by the edge of the couch, partially hidden beneath the throw blanket that had slipped off the armrest. At first, she thought it was just a random object—a stray remote or maybe some kind of gadget, but as she stepped a little closer, her stomach flipped.

A sleek, unmistakable shape came into view. It was a vibrator.

Small and simple, but undeniably there, lying just slightly out of place amidst the cozy, domestic warmth of his apartment. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her face burning. Had he seen her notice it? Did he even realize it was there?

“You okay over there?” Harry’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and she turned to see him leaning against the counter, a mug in each hand, his expression amused.

“Fine!” she said quickly, her voice a little higher than usual. She walked toward him, hoping he didn’t notice her awkwardness. “Just…admiring your plant collection. They’re very..healthy.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but too polite to push. “Well, thanks. They get all the credit. I just water them and hope for the best.”

As he handed her a mug, their fingers brushed briefly, and Y/N swore she felt a spark. She took a sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground her as she avoided glancing back toward the couch.

But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the toy was burned into her mind, along with the unwelcome but undeniable thought of Harry using it on someone.

“So,” Harry said, oblivious to her spiraling thoughts, “tell me about yourself, Y/N. What do you do for fun when you’re not rescuing broken coffee machines or lending out screwdrivers?”

Y/N forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the pink still dusting her cheeks. “Oh, you know. The usual. Reading, bingeing bad TV, trying to keep my plants alive…” She trailed off, her voice softening as she met his eyes. “Nothing as interesting as this place, though.”

Harry shrugged, his lips quirking up in that easy, lopsided grin. “Guess it depends on your definition of interesting. My life’s not as exciting as it might look.”

Harry followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing in confusion at first. But then his eyes landed on the object partially hidden beneath the blanket on the couch, and his expression changed instantly.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you saw that, didn’t you?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, trying to pretend like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. “Yeah, I did.”

“Damn,” Harry said, his voice soft with a mix of awkwardness and apology. He stepped around the counter, closing some of the space between them. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I should’ve—I didn’t know it was just sitting there. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss it. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks, and she desperately wanted to escape the situation before it got any more mortifying. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t—”

“Still,” Harry interrupted, running a hand through his hair. “That’s…not exactly something you want to stumble across when you’re just trying to have a cup of coffee.”

She laughed nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s fine, Harry. I promise.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his green eyes searching her face like he wasn’t sure if he should drop the subject or keep apologizing. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I swear I’m not like having sex 24/7. It just…happens to be there, and I didn’t think—”

“Harry, seriously,” Y/N cut him off, her voice firmer this time. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

She glanced toward the door, her heart still racing, and gave him a tight smile. “I should probably get going, though. I’ve, uh, got some stuff to do.”

Harry’s smile faded, and for a second, something flickered in his expression—disappointment, maybe? But he quickly masked it, nodding as he stepped back to give her space.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his tone light and casual, though it didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “Thanks for, you know, not freaking out.”

She smiled faintly, already moving toward the door. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets as they reached the threshold.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the frame, “thanks for the company. Even if I managed to completely ruin it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Y/N said, her smile softening. “It was…nice.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his grin returning, though it was smaller this time. “Good to know.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving him a quick wave and slipping out into the hallway. As the door closed behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart still pounding.

Y/N leaned back against the headboard of her bed, her room dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp. The book she’d been trying to read lay forgotten in her lap, her mind betraying her with images of Harry—standing in his kitchen, the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched over his toned arms, that damn crooked smile on his face.

Her face burned just thinking about him, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the memory of the vibrator on his couch kept flashing in her mind. She bit her lip, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the blanket draped across her lap.

It was reckless, she knew that. But the way he’d looked at her earlier..the way his green eyes had lingered, the way his voice had dipped when he said her name, it had left her feeling more restless than she wanted to admit.

Her hand slid lower, beneath the blanket, her breath catching as her fingers grazed her skin. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the fantasy. She pictured him leaning over her, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and teasing as he murmured her name.

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sound sent a shiver through her body.

On the other side of the wall, Harry froze. Their rooms must be back to back because he could now hear faint moans of Y/N.

He had just stepped out of his shower, towel slung around his hips, when the faint sound reached his ears. At first, he thought he was imagining things, but then it came again, soft, breathless, unmistakable. His name.

From Y/N’s apartment.

He stood there for a moment, completely still, his damp hair dripping onto his bare shoulders as he listened. The sound came again, and this time, there was no mistaking the hushed moan that followed.

���Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.

It wasn’t intentional..he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But now that he’d heard it, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. The wall separating their apartments was thin enough to carry the faintest sounds, and the realization sent heat rushing through his body.

He leaned back against the wall, torn between guilt and an intense, undeniable arousal. He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the sound of her soft, needy gasps of her whispering his name was doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore.

Inside her apartment, Y/N was oblivious, completely lost in her own world. Her breathing quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she pushed two fingers in and out of her pussy and imagined his hands on her, his lips trailing down her neck, his voice rumbling in her ear as he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

“Harry,” she whimpered again, her body trembling as she edged closer to cumming.

He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. It was crossing a line, stepping into territory they hadn’t even begun to discuss. But the memory of her soft gasps, the thought of her lying in her bed, touching herself while thinking about him…

It was too much.

With a low groan, he grabbed his phone and scrolled to her name in his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button for a second before he muttered, “fuck it,” and pressed it.

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice was soft, hesitant, and he could hear the slight tremor in it, like she wasn’t sure why he was calling.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was…I’m awake,” she said quickly, though there was something breathless about her tone that told him she hadn’t quite recovered from what she’d been doing.

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Good. Because we need to talk.”

There was a pause, and he could almost feel her tension through the line. “About what?”

“About what I just heard,” he said, his voice dipping lower, more serious.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Oh my God,” Y/N finally said, her voice barely audible. “You heard that?”

“I did,” Harry admitted, his lips curving into a small smile despite himself. “Walls are thin, love.”

She groaned, and he could hear the embarrassment in the sound. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”

“But—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting her off again. “Listen to me. You don’t need to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not judging you.”

She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing on the other end of the line…quick, shallow, and uneven.

“Are you still in bed?” he asked, his voice softening.

“…yes,” she admitted after a moment.

“Good,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch. “Stay there for me.”

“Harry…”

“You were saying my name,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Weren’t you?”

Her breath hitched, and he smiled, knowing he’d caught her.

“I—”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone soothing but commanding. “You don’t have to lie. I liked it, Y/N. Hearing you like that…knowing you were thinking about me…”

Her breathing quickened, and he could almost picture her lying there, her cheeks flushed, her body tense with anticipation.

“Harry,” she said again, her voice a mix of nerves and something else..something needier.

“Let me help you,” he said, his hand drifting down to his cock as he spoke. “Let me show you how good it can feel. Can I do that?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she might say no. But then she whispered, “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he said, his voice like velvet. The words sent a thrill through him as much as they did her, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” he asked, his tone low and deliberate.

“No,” she admitted, her voice shaking slightly.

“Then start,” he said. “Slide your hand down, just like you were doing before.”

He waited, his own hand slipping below as he imagined her doing exactly what he’d asked.

“Touch your clit,” he murmured, his tone thick with heat. “I want to hear you as you feel the warmth of your own touch.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her body still trembling from the intensity of their conversation. But his voice was like a magnet, drawing her in, and before she knew it, her fingers were moving against her skin, tentative at first, then more sure of themselves as she followed his instructions.

“Good,” Harry whispered, his voice growing rougher. “Now, gently slide your fingers in and out, slowly. Feel every fucking inch.” “Good girl,” he murmured, his words sending a thrill through her. “Just like that. You’re so good for me, Y/N. I can hear how much you’re enjoying this.”

“Now add a third finger for me.”

She did as she was told, she let out a slightly louder moan this time.

“That’s it baby just like that. I know you can handle it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so desperate for my cock would you? How are you gonna take it all for me if you can’t even take three of your own fingers? That would just be pathetic.”

She breathes out as she fingers herself deeper, just trying to forget theyre her own and imagining his ringed ones instead. “Harry..”

“That’s right love just like that,”, he started moving his hand up and down his own cock, holding back moans. “You wanna come over to my apartment tomorrow? So I can actually fuck you good?”

She barely even comprehends what he’s saying with the feeling of being stuffed with three fingers, win the reassurance that soon it would be even more filling than that with his dick. All she can muster is a soft hum of affirmation.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yeah of course. Just text me what time.”

He sighs, adjusting himself to get more comfortable as he feels the orgasm coming. “I will. I’ll use that same vibrator on you then will you like that?”

“H-”

“And trust me it wasn’t the only thing I have at my house. I have a whole drawer you can have. Pick anything you want out of it tomorrow yeah, baby?”

“Yes Harry, fuck-oh god I’m cumming.”

“Just like that baby.”

Harry almost cums instantly as he hears her moans and then her clamming down afterwards, her breath heavy. And soon enough he does, groaning himself as the hot ropes shoot out of his cock to the towel now underneath him.

After everything settled into quiet, Harry’s voice, still thick with desire, came through once more.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and she could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “You did so well.” His words lingered in her ear, and she could feel the warmth of his praise seeping into her skin.

Y/N’s breath was still uneven as she slowly, hesitantly, lifted her fingers to her lips. “Lick them for me, love,” Harry coaxed, his voice soothing but laced with a hint of command.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the request sending a shiver down her spine, but the sound of his voice, so commanding yet affectionate, left no room for doubt. Slowly, her fingers moved to her lips, her tongue darting out to meet them, and as she did, a soft gasp left her mouth.

“Good girl,” Harry said, the words slipping out in a near whisper. “So good for me. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

The promise of tomorrow hung in the air between them, leaving her pulse racing, her thoughts swirling with the anticipation of what was to come.

“I’ll make sure we have a good time, baby,” Harry reassured her, his tone still warm and low. “You deserve it. You’re perfect.”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh of contentment, still basking in the afterglow of everything they’d just shared, and though she felt a lingering desire, she could also feel the weight of satisfaction in the quiet moment.

“I should let you go now,” Harry said, his voice now gentle, as if sensing her need to breathe. “But tomorrow, we’ll have all the time we need.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

“Goodnight, love,” he replied, his voice lingering in her ear as if he was right there with her. “Sleep well.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N with a soft smile on her lips, her body still buzzing from the connection they’d shared.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)

summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?

words: 6.4k (she's long)

warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.

"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."

Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.

Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.

"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."

Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.

She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.

"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"

"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.

As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands. 

Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.

For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.

"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."

To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."

His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.

Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."

"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."

Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.

She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.

By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.

As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."

Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."

Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.

But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."

As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter. 

At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.

However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.

For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.

One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.

"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."

The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."

Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now. 

Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.

"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"

She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.

To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.

"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.

Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"

If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...

The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.

When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.

But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.

"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."

Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"

Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"

The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.

By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.

"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense. 

"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."

Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."

She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.

Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.

"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."

He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"

Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.

Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.

"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."

The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.

"Then it's official. We're a couple now."

Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?

"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.

To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."

He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.

"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.

Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."

The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.

***

Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.

They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.

One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.

To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile. 

"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"

Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"

"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"

Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.

"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"

Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously. 

After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.

By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.

That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.

"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."

After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."

Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.

Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.

It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.

After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.

One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.

Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.

"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."

While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.

By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.

Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.

"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude. 

She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.

Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.

"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."

Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed. 

This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.

By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.

Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.

Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.

She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.

When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.

"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."

Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.

"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.

Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.

"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."

"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.

The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.

"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."

As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.

Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.

Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.

"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."

Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.

She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.

"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."

Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.

"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.

Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.

His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.

Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..

Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.

"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."

Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.

"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."

The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.

Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.

"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"

Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.

Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.

"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."

With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.

"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."

His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.

"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.

True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.

By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.

Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.

"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words.  He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.

Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.

"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."

Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.

She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.

“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”

She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.

“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”

Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.

She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.

Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.

“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.

“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.

“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.

“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.

“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.

She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.

“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”

He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.

“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.

“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.

“Just a little longer, Almost done”

He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.

He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.

He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.

***

The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.

There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?

Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.

"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"

The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."

But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.

What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?

The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...

(next part)

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld  @chesthairrry   @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs   @hisparentsgallerryy   @storyschanging  @selluequestrian   @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

[onceagainace]

Always always fan of lot 2021

#hits

[thecuriousbeauty]

rough sex, size kink, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, etc. (don't judge me, I'm ovulating) ah, and I also love your writing

Rough- Harry Styles x reader (Smut blurb)

A/N:- Hey anon, thanks for the request! So sorry it took so long, I was on a little holiday:) Hope you love this!

Warnings: Everything in the ask! Pure filth. Smut. Fingering, degradation, light spanking, penetration(p in v), choking.

Word count: 1.6K

______________________________________________

You had pushed all his buttons. And now, he was fuming as he drove back home with you, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

To be fair, it was Harry who had to ditch your plans together because a meeting came up. He had been so busy lately, and he’d promised you that he’d spend the whole day with you. Although it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t hold up on the promise and he had to go away till the evening. Of course he apologized and told you he’d make up for it, but you decided to tease him a little in return.

When Harry was back, he wanted to take you to a fancy dinner but you said you just wanted to go out for drinks and that’s what you did. You wore a short silver dress that hugged your curves beautifully and the length stopped just right below your ass. You didn’t talk to him on the way. As soon as you got to the club, you went to the dance floor and started swaying your hips and your ass. Harry leaned on the bar stool, looking at you. 

He understood that you were pissed, so he just kept quiet. Until, you started flirting with another guy. It got so intense, he started rubbing against your ass from behind and you just giggled, enjoying how Harry’s eyes were burning as he watched it. He walked to the dance floor and threw the man off of you by his collar.

“Woah! What the hell man?”

“Hands off my girlfriend.”, Harry growled at him, and you tugged on his shirt. “Harry!”

“Geez I didn’t know she’s taken!”

And that’s how you were now sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car, arms folded across your chest while he drove you home. Harry didn’t say anything, which only made you anxious. Had you taken it too far? You just wanted to get him angry enough so he would rough you up a little. 

You were gonna rush up the stairs and to bed but Harry wrapped his hand around your hair, tugging it back, making you wince. “Not so quickly, sweetheart. You think I’m just gonna ignore that little act you pulled?” Harry’s deep voice rasped in your ear. 

“Y-You were being mean to me.”, you pout, gasping as he tugs you to his body, wrapping an arm around your waist and tightening his hold on your hair, making you lean your head back on his shoulder. 

“I was not. I apologized, I told you I’d make up for it. But no, you had to go and be a brat to get my attention.” 

As much as his hold on your hair hurt, you couldn’t help but smirk at how riled up he was, and you could see in his eyes how badly he wanted you. 

“Well guess what, baby? You’ve got all my attention now.” He dips his head down, lips finding the sweet spot on your neck and you moan softly, moving a hand to his hair to tug on his luscious soft curls. His hand moved from your hair to lift up your dress and land a smack to your ass.

You jerked forward, but his arm around your middle kept you in place. “Did I tell you could touch me?”, he asks, gripping the flesh of your ass. 

“No daddy..”, you moan, loving the sting from the slap but also how wet the thought of a punishment made you.

“That’s what I thought. You are not to speak or touch me until I say so, got it?”

“Yes.” You nod, yelping as his hand comes down again on the same spot he hit. “Yes, daddy.”, you correct yourself. 

He hums, yanking down the zipper of your dress and pulling it down your sides. “Fucking short little dress, putting on a show for everyone. Don’t worry, daddy’s gonna remind you who you belong to.”

He tugs off your bra before cupping your right breast and connecting your lips. You moan into his mouth as his tongue explores your mouth, and you’re tempted to touch his body, snake your hands under his shirt, feel his sculpted body under your hands. 

“Daddy..”, you whined, feeling his hardness against your ass. 

“I don’t think you deserve my cock. You were being a little whore today, weren’t you?”, he taunts, pinching one of your nipples.

“Sorry daddy, let me m-make you feel better.”, you say, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“Shut up.”, he gives your breast a light slap before his fingers pull on the material of your thong. “This fucking thing barely hides your pussy.” He ripped it off, making you gasp. He was quick to stuff his fingers into your mouth, and the two fingers of his other hand slipped into your wet hole.

“I didn’t even do anything and you’re dripping wet.”, he says, sciscoring his fingers inside of you at a fast pace, making you squeal around his fingers in your mouth. He pushes them in further, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water. 

“I think you forgot who owns your pussy. You’ll let daddy destroy your little pussy, won’t you?”

You nod fervently, your saliva sputtering around his fingers. He curls his fingers inside your vagina, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. “Fucking little slut. Do you want to cum?”

He removes his fingers from your mouth and presses his hand to your lower stomach, keeping you in place as you squirmed. Your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand. “Y-Yes daddy.”, you cry out, your toes tingling and your vision already going blurry with the amount of pleasure.

“Ask nicely.”, he hisses, biting your ear lobe. 

“Please, p-please daddy I’ll be good, please let me cum. I-I’ll be your good girl, I’m s-sorry!” You scream as his thumb applies pressure to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “Go on, cum all over daddy’s fingers.”

By the time you’re back on earth after the amazing orgasm you just had, Harry has you on the couch on all fours, giving you barely enough time to recover as he slides his cock inside your sensitive pussy.

“Shit, always so tight.”, he curses, fingers digging into your hips. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you like a whore. I know that’s what you like.”

You scream as he starts to thrust his hips, his cock hitting deep inside you. It felt so good. He filled you up incredibly. His huge dick came crashing into your walls and you could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. 

“You think that guy has a bigger cock? Can he fuck you like this? Make you cry?”, Harry leans down to ask in your ear. You can’t answer, your vagina trying to envelop him and at the same time, press him out. 

“Answer me.”, he gruffs, one of his hands coming up to wrap around your throat and lift your face up. 

“N-No, no daddy..”, you whimper and choke as he pulls up your upper body by your neck, and he adjusts himself so his cock hits a deeper angle. “Who’s the only one who can fuck you like this hm?”

“You, daddy. Y-You fuck me so good..” You were nearing your release again. “M-May I cum? P-Please daddy?”

“Yes.”, he slaps your ass, hard. He moans and throws his head back in pleasure as he feels your warm juices coat his pulsating dick. He’s flipping you around onto your back, holding your knees apart and slamming into you again.

You whine from the over sensitivity. “D-Daddy I-I can’t..it’s too much.”

“You can, you’ll take it like a good girl. I know you can.”, he says, looking down at your stomach to see the dent his dick was making from inside. His eyes move to your face, looking at your smeared mascara and plump red lips, then moving to your breasts. 

“So fucking pretty like this.”, he says, bending down to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hands immediately travel to his hair and his back to pull him closer to you. You were already as close as you could be, but you wanted him impossibly closer. His curly hair was messy and cheeks flushed from your activities, but he looked beautiful.

“I-I love you.”, you whisper, and he kisses you. You cling to him as he was the only solid thing around you, and he was the only one whom you trusted with your entire being. “I love you too, sweet girl.”, he whispers and presses his forehead against yours.

“Want your cum inside me daddy, fill me up.”, you say, clenching around him as you know he’s close.

“Fuck, just like that, baby, you take me s-so well.”, he moans. You cum again from the feeling of him filling you up, and Harry collapses over you as you both recover from your highs. The only noise in the room was of your heavy breaths.

Harry lifts his head to look at you, your closed eyes fluttering open as he taps your cheek. “You okay darling? Was I too rough?”

“I’m okay, it was p-perfect. Just tired.”, you tell him, smiling softly as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek “I’ll run you a bath, get you something to eat and then we can go to sleep.”

You hum. “Sounds good.”

Harry stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Hey, I really am sorry about today, love.”

“It’s okay! All forgiven after that.”, you giggle and he grins, shifting to lay beside you so he could pull you into his arms. “Maybe I should make you angry more often.”

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles amused, pressing kisses to your face as you laugh. “My naughty little minx.”

______________________________________________

Taglist:-@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry (Lemme know if you want me to add your name to the taglist!)

[moonchildstyles]

harry at these soccer games…… 🥸🥸🥸 now THATS! my baby daddy prosecco h🥸

wordcount: 3.2k+

—————

"Sweetheart, are y'almost ready?" 

(Y/N) wanted to roll her eyes, huff out an attitude and shout back to Harry that she'd be ready when she was ready, until she saw the time. 

They were now running fifteen minutes behind.

To be fair, she thought she was doing much better on time than she actually was. She had figured the last time he had shouted to her was only a short two minutes ago, but it appeared he had given her a full ten minutes and she was still working on getting her hair to lay the way she wanted. At least her makeup was done and her outfit was laid out on her bed. 

"Almost," (Y/N) called back over the sound of the hairdryer, working the device a bit quicker over her strands. 

"We need to leave in five minutes, love. We're already running a little late, so try to be ready soon." 

Her lips thinned at his evergreen patience. Now she felt that much more guilty for almost giving him attitude. Besides, today was for him, one of the very few times he allowed himself to be the focus of their activities, the least she could do was hurry up and little and let him enjoy it to the fullest. 

Despite still not being happy with her hair, she took the strands at what they were and turned off the dryer. Worst case, she'd stick a claw clip in and hope that concealed the untamable strands. Rushing back to her bedroom, she made quick work of wiggling into her outfit. Finishing touches came in the form of clumsy perfume spritzes, extra swipes of lip gloss before shoving the tube in her bag, and blindly stuffing her feet into her shoes. 

Skittering out of her bedroom, she met Harry where he was standing with his phone in hand, forehead creased. 

"I'm ready, I'm sorry," (Y/N) blurted, fastening her emergency claw clip to the handle of her purse, "We can go." 

Harry looked up at her, clearly stressed with lines around his eyes and lips thinned, "'S alright, love. Y'look pretty." 

"Worth the wait?" she teased, feeling her cheeks warm from his smile praise.

The worry lines on his face melted some as she spoke, "Always. C'mon, pretty." 

Setting her hand in the crook of Harry's offered arm, (Y/N) suddenly forgot about each strand of hair that wouldn't cooperate, the fold on the heel of her sock from stubbornly stepping into her shoes. There was no way she could feel less than perfect when Harry talked to her that way—when he looked at her like that. 

—————

After the debacle of finding a parking space among the crowded lot, (Y/N) wasn't excited to see the amount of people that outnumbered the cars they had already trekked through. While she definitely enjoyed her nightlife, bar hopping among different crowds, there was something definitely much less appealing about this crowd she found herself among. 

(It was probably the lack of alcohol, if she was being honest). 

"Where are our seats?" (Y/N) murmured, clutching Harry's hand to keep him from straying. 

Absently peeking at the ticket on his phone, Harry rattled off the section and seat numbers. Truthfully, the information didn't mean much to her given that Harry was in charge of leading them to where they needed to go; she had hoped he would tell her in general where they would be watching the match, as in by the goal or something. 

She hummed in response, letting him pull her to go ahead of him as they ventured into a particularly congested area of the arena. A line for the concessions converged with the line of eager fans attempting to get special edition merchandise for the event, enough activity to leave a narrow space for both flows of traffic to travel through. 

"Jus' go straight ahead," Harry murmured as he ducked down to her ear, his hands on her waist from behind. 

A string of excuse me and sorry fell from her lips every time she encountered a new body, her steps minuscule as they moved beyond. If she had even wanted anything to drink or snack on during the game, there was no way she was even attempting the line unless they found a less noticeable stall or until everyone cleared out. 

Popping out on the other side, (Y/N) found a small space out of the way before turning to look at Harry once more. He made sure they got through the worst of it together, but his captaining job was far from over if the rest of the stadium was anything like that. 

"Y'okay, pretty?" he asked, looking to her through the dark of his shades though the stern line of his lips showed off all of his concern. 

"Yeah," she sighed, anchoring herself once more with a grip on his hand, "Just a lot of people. I wasn't expecting this." 

He hummed an acknowledgment to her as they started down the curving corridor along the bowl of the venue. "I've been wanting to take y'to other matches before this one, but someone's always too busy." 

The look he cast over his sunnies was accusing, though it lost much of his grit when a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"Because I am," (Y/N) countered, just a pitch away from a whine in her voice, "And, I don't think I've been missing out on much if this is how these things go." 

"'S no different than one of your concerts, love," he mused, ever-patient as he counted off each of the section headers above the doors leading to the seating, "And this is a big match, anyway. They're usually not this crazy." 

Before she could offer anything in response, Harry rapidly pulled her out of the way as a group of shirtless men with green painted torsos barreled through the corridor, drunken laughter spilling in their wake. His features were set in stiff lines as he looked over his shoulder at the rowdy group disappearing. 

"Maybe a little worse than your concerts, actually," he muttered, the admission made under his breath as he opted to keep his arm around her waist as opposed to leashing her by his hand. Easier to keep her safe. 

With that, he became her guard dog for the trek, sharp eyes keeping watch for any and everything that might cause his pretty girl harm while finding their seats. Rowdy patrons or those unwilling to give her space were given sharp glare before Harry elbowed around them, ensuring no one touched even a single hair on the top of her head. 

It was enough to have (Y/N) sighing as if in a dream. It was cute seeing him act this way, protective and adoring. It was even more interesting to see others' reactions to his behavior; when others cowered out of the way, (Y/N) wondered what was going on in their head. She couldn't imagine wanting to go the opposite direction of her Harry, not even when he had his lips pursed and eyes narrowed. She was too familiar with the dimples hiding in the folds of his cheeks or the bunny-like front teeth shielded by lips. 

"I'll go first this time. Hang onto me," Harry directed once they reached the correct section. 

As he started down the flight of stairs, he reached a hand out behind him for (Y/N) to take. She didn't hesitate before clutching his fingers, his grip tight as he started descending to their row. Looking around at the arena of fans around her, (Y/N) truthfully couldn't believe the energy. It was decidedly much different than any concert she had ever attended, even to ones she'd been to at this exact venue. 

There was almost something slightly aggressive about the audience with the differing sides mingling together, along with pints of alcohol and greasy food. There were costumed attendees complete with wild wigs and painted faces sat beside those with determined faces and brains full of the rulebook. Of course there were those like H, just excited to be there and hopeful for their favorite team, and those like her, there because someone they cared about wanted to be in attendance. 

Going lower and lower in the bowl, Harry finally stopped over a handful of rows away from the green. Pulling her to stand beside him, he pointed at a pair of vacant seats a few people in. 

"Those two, right there. I'll be right behind you," he murmured into her ear, urging her on with a hand on her back. 

Going ahead without a word, (Y/N) apologized as she skirted her way by those already sat down. She couldn't help the frown that plucked her features when the crowd around them erupted into cheers for no apparent reason. It spiked her anxiety, feeling as if they were missing something important, even if (Y/N) didn't really have any real interest in any of the events taking place this evening. 

Settling into her seat, she waited for Harry to join her with wide eyes. As soon as he caught the way she was looking at him, a small smile touched his cheeks. 

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he uttered, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head. 

"There's..." she trailed off, emphasizing her point with her eyes scanning around the stadium, "so much." 

"I know, right?" he muttered, a giddy undertone to his words, "'S exciting." 

"Something like that," she smiled, happy to see how excited he was to be here. 

"It'll be more fun when the match starts," he insisted, "Everyone settles down a little." 

"When does it start?" (Y/N) asked, watching as the jumbo screen above the field went through an advertisement for the cheese sticks available at the concession stand. If she wasn't turned off by the mess of a line they'd seen, she would be asking Harry if they could grab an order of the fried cheese. 

Harry hummed, checking his phone. "Not for another forty-five minutes." 

Just as he spoke, just a couple of rows ahead of them, a pair of strangers began loudly arguing about some statistics she had no context for. 

This was going to be a long forty-five minutes. 

—————

Shooting to her feet, (Y/N) followed Harrys cue as he cheered. She wasn't exactly sure what for, considering she didn't see any of the players make a goal, but she would just have to ask about those rules later. For now, she clapped and cheered with him, watching from the corner of her eye for when he took his seat again. 

When the crowd settled once more, Harry held a giddy smile on his face, nose pinkened by the time in the sun. As much as this match wasn't her cup of tea, seeing him having fun the way he was definitely made up for some of the discomfort and how lost she was rules-wise. 

Leaning over the armrest with her mouth hovering by his ear, she asked the same question she'd already posed periodically through the match, "Good?" 

"Really good, pretty!" he answered in a chirp, "We've got the ball now." 

"Ohhh," she sounded. It was news to her that their preferred team didn't have the ball already. 

The ball was nothing more than a black and white spot going across the green while colorful jerseys followed after. The audience was raptured, almost caught in silence while the plays were made, but (Y/N) was much more interested in watching Harry. 

While he wasn't completely committed to watching any and every game that came on the television, she could tell being here was especially exciting for him. It made her excited about the game just seeing how much it meant to him; she was this close to grabbing a jersey to keep at his house for the nights she spent over. 

She couldn't help but to angle herself as close as possible to him despite the armrest separating them, leaving her arm pressed flush against his. Harry didn't even glance at her before he was lifting that same arm and dropping it around her shoulders, keeping her close. 

"Thank you for coming with me, sweetheart," he murmured into her ear, his voice clear over the rush of the crowd. A delicate kiss was placed on her temple, his lips warmer than even the sun's rays on the grass. 

She beamed up at him, admiring the angles of his features. The height of his cheekbones, the line of his sun kissed nose, the length of his curling lashes. Her man. 

"Thank you for bringing me," she said, craning her neck just enough to press her lips to the stubbled cheek. 

She could feel the dip of his dimple underneath her lips as he smiled.

Just then, a seemingly important goal was made. Harry pulled her to stand up and cheer with him, his hands over his head with the rest of the excitable crowd. 

"Did you see that!?" Harry yelled, eyes wide and smile broad. 

Of course she didn't. She was busy kissing on her boyfriend, she wasn't watching the match. 

Nonetheless, seeing him smile made it that much easier for her to do the same. "That was crazy!" 

His expression—bright eyes with a wide smile, his cheeks holding a pinkened glow—was well worth her little fib. 

—————

"That's gonna look really cute on you, sweetheart." 

(Y/N)'s beaming smile was directed up at Harry, looking at the colorful jersey he'd purchased for her. It was truthfully not her color, and the fit was going to be something she was going to have to fight to style to her liking, but it was Harry's favorite player. More than anything, this was for him, something she was going to keep at his home for the night she would spend in his bed. 

"You think so?" she chirped, looking up at him with bright eyes. Maybe her words were a bit of a ploy, fishing for some compliments. Could anyone blame her? Hearing softened words wrapped up in his voice, all while he was looking at her, was all too easy to become addicted to. 

"I know so, love," he smiled, quickly casting his eyes to the line of cars slowly moving ahead of them, "Gonna wear it tonight?" 

Her smile turned a bit sheepish as his voice drawled around the question. "I can, if you want." 

When she peeked at him from the corner of her eye, she saw the way his eyes dropped to the jersey in her lap back up to the line of her profile. There was a shade to his gaze now, something warming through the green of his irises as he looked at her. The raspberry of his lips was slicked over by the top of her tongue just before his attention was called back to the windscreen. 

"I want." 

The breathy laugh that fell from her lips was just as dazed as it was spurred on by the butterflies awakening in her stomach. "I can do that." 

Harry hummed, reaching over to place his palm against her thigh. Traffic finally began to shift from the stop and go lock the car park was caught in, into a slow crawl, leaving his eyes fixed on the windshield instead of on his pretty girl. Instinctively, she angered her body towards him, settling her palm atop his hand. 

The dimple in his cheek was his only acknowledgment of her move. "Did y'really have fun today, love?" 

"I did," she chirped, bouncing in her seat, "I don't think I really get it still, but it was so fun to see all of the people. It made me excited even though I didn't really know what for." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, glancing at her as he shifted into the flow of traffic, "'M happy y'had fun. I know 's not really your thing, but it means a lot that y'came with me. Thank you, pretty girl." 

This time, the warming pit in her stomach flushed away into something delicate, full of cotton candy clouds and saccharine threads. She was sure her eyes were practically hearts at this point, trained right on him.

"You always come to me with all of my favorite stuff, so I'm happy we did something for you today. You had fun today, right?"

"So much, baby. I always have fun with you." 

She could have melted right into the leather of her seat if not for his hand on her thigh holding her together. 

"I always have fun with you, too," she murmured, reaching across the center console until she had her lips pressed to his cheek. It was a lingering touch, something she was well aware she needed to cut short given the cars racing outside the windows, but she couldn't help but to take her time. The stubble under her kiss prickled against her lips, against the tip of her nose. "I love you." 

As she settled back into her spot, Harry's grip tightened on her leg. "Pretty, I can't pull over right now." 

Blinking at him, she sounded, "Huh?" 

He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Y'can't act like that—kissing on me and whispering—when I've got to keep us safe. 'S not fair, I want to kiss you, too." 

Biting back a smile, she wrapped her fingers around his clenching palm. "Just find a shoulder or something," she suggested, "Or, I'm sure we'll get to a red light at some point." 

He seemed to consider the former suggestion for a moment, eyes glancing out the windscreen to the lanes before them. After a moment, he shook his head. "I'll save it for when we're home. Are y'spending the night?" 

"I can if you want." 

"I want." 

This time, she couldn't help but let out a full, bubbling laugh. His response was quick—too quick to hide anything. "Are we still stopping for dinner?" she asked, despite knowing the likely answer. 

"No." 

Maybe she was missing the feel of his stubbled cheek, or she was teasing him just a little, but she couldn't help but to lean across and press another kiss to his cheek. 

His hand on her thigh moved in an instant, landing on the back of her neck in a weighty press. 

"Pretty." 

"Sorry," she giggled, pulling away though Harry's hand stayed just where it was on the back of her neck, "I'll stop." 

The sunburned glow to his nose and cheeks was only emboldened by the flush touching the cream of his skin. "Y'better, love. Y'like being good for me, right?" 

It was her turn to feel the warmth, the pad of his thumb skating over the column of her throat. "Yeah. Sorry, H." 

He gave one more lingering pulse of his fingers before his palm dragged down the curve of her throat and the length of her arm until it was back in her lap. "It's alright, sweetheart. Jus' save it for m'bedroom. And your new little shirt."

Who was she to turn down a plan like that? 

Maybe, they were going to have to start going to more of these matches. Especially if they ended like this.

—————

ive missed my king Prosecco:( I really hope everyone enjoys how this turned out! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if theres anything fun you want to share send them in!!!!!

[unabashegirl]

Fragments — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. Here is this week's one shot! I hope you enjoy it. LOTS OF ANGST! The second part will get posted tomorrow.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count 3.9K

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

As the sun began its descent in the late afternoon sky, Shiba Park in Tokyo was bathed in a gentle, golden light. The cherry blossoms, just beginning to bloom, added a delicate touch of pink to the scene, signaling the early days of spring. The air was crisp but not cold, filled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and fresh grass.

Harry Styles, hoping to escape the relentless pace of his life, walked through the park with a coffee in hand. Dressed casually, he blended in with the locals, his trademark curls tucked under a beanie and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The sounds of children playing, birds chirping, and the distant hum of the city created a peaceful backdrop.

As Harry roamed along the winding paths, taking in the serene beauty of the park, his attention was drawn to a familiar figure sitting on the grass. It was Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, enjoying a solitary picnic. A blanket was spread out before her, adorned with an assortment of snacks and a book lying open beside her. She seemed lost in her own world, her face relaxed and serene.

Two years had passed since their breakup, a period marked by unresolved tensions and painful memories. Seeing Y/N unexpectedly stirred a mix of emotions within Harry. He paused, torn between the urge to approach and the instinct to keep his distance. The years apart had softened some of the bitterness, but the wounds were still there, just beneath the surface.

Y/N, sensing someone's gaze, looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, time stood still. The park faded away, and all that existed was the shared history and unspoken words between them. Harry's heart raced, and he wondered if the universe was giving them a chance to get some closure or if it was sick joke.

Harry's breath hitched slightly as he stood there, unsure of what to do next. His mind raced with memories of their past together—the good times, the laughter, the fights, and ultimately, the heartbreak. He took a tentative step forward, then stopped. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed to be caught in a similar turmoil. Her eyes, which had initially shown surprise, softened as she looked at him, but there was also a hint of uncertainty.

The sounds of the park seemed to fade into the background as they continued to hold each other’s gaze. Finally, Harry took another step forward and then another until he was standing a few feet away from her. He hesitated, then managed a small, tentative smile.

“I thought Japan was my territory and off limits for you” he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

“Didn’t realize that we still had divided territories. Weren’t you in Italy a few weeks ago?” she replied, a playful tone in her voice, but her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She shifted slightly on the blanket, making room as if inviting him to sit.

He took the invitation, lowering himself onto the grass beside her. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and distant laughter from other park visitors. Harry took a sip of his coffee, searching for the right words.

"Point taken," he said with a knowing smile, aware that Italy held a special place in her heart. Perhaps that's why he found himself spending most of his free time there—chasing her and the memories they had once shared. Italy had become one of refuge, a place where he could feel closer to her, even if she was no longer by his side.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," he finally said, glancing at her.

"I didn’t expect to see you either," she replied, a faint smile touching her lips. "How have you been?"

He nodded, looking down at his coffee cup. "I've been... busy. Touring, recording, the usual. What about you?"

“Good. Nothing unusual” she said, her gaze drifting to the cherry blossoms. "Life's been quiet, but good.”

"How long are you staying?"

"A month."

"You finally took those vacations," he smiled warmly, fully aware of how much she had dreamed of this much-needed break. The thought of her taking time for herself brought a sense of relief—he had always wanted her to prioritize her well-being, even if their paths had diverged.

Y/N nodded, a grateful expression softening her features. "Yes, finally," she replied, a hint of exhaustion tinged with excitement in her voice. "I needed this more than I realized."

Harry looked at her, noticing the subtle signs of weariness that hinted at the weight she had been carrying. "I'm glad you're giving yourself this time," he said sincerely. "You deserve it."

As they sat on the grass, Y/N suddenly glanced at her watch and then back at Harry, her expression shifting. "I need to get going," she said softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Harry looked at her, concern etching his features. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have stuff to do."

Harry felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it. "I get it," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “Let me walk you out?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure”.

They stood up together, brushing off their clothes. As they walked side by side through the park, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path. The silence between them was comfortable, though charged with unspoken words and hidden feelings.

Y/N looked at him momentarily and she felt like she was in the dream. Like in one of the numerous dreams that she had when they had just broken up.

As they neared the exit, Harry felt a growing sense of urgency. He wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. The thought of not seeing her again gnawed at him, so he took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Y/N glanced at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "I’m not sure yet."

Harry's heart raced as he quickly blurted out, "I’m taking a course on making sushi in the afternoon, and in the evening, I was invited to an art exhibition. Would you like to come with me?"

He winced slightly, realizing how rushed and jumbled his words had sounded. But to his relief, Y/N seemed to understand him perfectly. She hesitated, clearly taken aback by the suddenness of the invitation. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to decline, to remind herself of the pain that still lingered from their past. Yet another part of her, the part that still held onto the connection they once shared, was tempted to say yes.

She looked at him, trying to gauge his intentions. It wasn’t lost on her how much effort he was putting into this, how much he seemed to want to bridge the gap between them. But she also knew that accepting would mean opening old wounds, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Deep down, she felt a strong need for closure. She deserved at least that from him—an explanation for everything that had happened in those last few months. The questions that had haunted her, the confusion that lingered, all demanded answers. And as much as she wanted to protect herself from further pain, she knew that without closure, she would never truly be able to move on.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she weighed her options. Harry’s invitation felt like an opportunity—a chance to finally confront the unresolved issues between them, to hear his side of the story, and maybe even to find some peace.

“Okay,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “I’ll go”.

Harry’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and relief. “Really?”

She nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah”. she agreed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Harry nodded, his smile growing. “I’ll pick you up”.

“Sounds good” She gave him a small nod.

As Y/N walked away, a surprising sense of calm washed over her. She returned to the charming Airbnb she had rented, a place that had captivated her with its traditional decor and tranquil Japanese garden. This trip had been a rare indulgence—she never took vacations, so she had splurged on a stay that offered peace and serenity. Running into Harry had been the last thing she expected, a twist she hadn’t anticipated.

Once back, Y/N found herself reaching for the bottle of wine she had been saving for her last night in Japan. She poured herself a generous glass, savoring the rich aroma, and then slid open one of the doors that led to the garden. Sitting on the edge, she let her gaze drift over the carefully tended landscape, the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze soothing her nerves.

As she sipped her wine, memories flooded back—how it all began with Harry, how blissfully happy they had been during those first two years. The laughter, the shared dreams, the moments that had once made her heart soar.

Y/N rushed through the crowded streets, her phone cradle between her ear and shoulder as she fumbled with bags. She was late, as usual, and in the midst of her hurried pace, she decided to call her coworker to confirm a meeting time.

Without looking too closely, she scrolled through her contacts and dialed the number of her coworker. The phone rang twice before a voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?” a deep, distinctly British voice said.

“Hey, I’m running a bit late,” Y/N said not bothering with pleasantries. “But I’m almost there, so don’t leave without me, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Um, I think you might have the wrong number, love,” the voice replied, amusement clear in the tone.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. That wasn’t her coworker’s voice. Realization hit her like a freight train.

“Oh my God,” she blurted out, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I thought I was calling someone else!”

The man on the other end chuckled, a warm, easy sound that somehow made her feel even more flustered. “It’s not every day I get a call like this. I’m amused”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear into thin air. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, feeling like a complete idiot. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Don’t hang up just yet” He assured her, his voice still light with humor. “I’m a bit curious now. Who were you trying to call?”

“My coworker,” she replied, still mortified. “We were supposed to meet for a presentation, and I’m runnin —”

Suddenly, the call cut off, the connection lost as she moved through a spotty area of service. She stared at her phone in disbelief, her face heating up with a mix of mortification and frustration.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, but she couldn’t bring herself to redial. It had been a mistake, after all. He probably didn’t think twice about it, she told herself, brushing off the encounter as nothing more than a fleeting moment of awkwardness.

Little did she know, the brief exchange would leave a lasting impression on him. The first track on his next album would be inspired by that stranger’s call, and it would become a hit record.

The next day, as they strolled through the bustling streets of Japan, Harry noticed the silence that had settled between them. The vibrant surroundings seemed to contrast with the quiet tension that hung in the air. He glanced over at Y/N, who was lost in thought, her expression distant.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Harry remarked gently, breaking the silence. His tone was soft, tinged with concern as he searched her face for any sign of what might be on her mind.

Y/N looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She offered him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Just taking it all in,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual too, as if she were trying to keep something at bay.

Harry nodded, but he could tell there was more to it. There was a weight in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a heaviness that seemed to grow with each step they took closer to the restaurant he had reserved for their private cooking lesson.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” Harry said, sensing the tension that lingered between them. He wanted to clear the air, to ease the unease that seemed to hang over them, but he knew that doing so would mean opening Pandora’s box—revealing a lot of things he wasn’t ready to confront just yet.

Harry’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to make things more difficult, but the weight of unspoken questions pressed down on her, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Harry,” she began, her voice trembling slightly as she forced herself to continue, “what went wrong?”.

The question hung there, raw and exposed, cutting through the fragile peace they had tried to maintain. Harry’s steps faltered, his breath catching as he turned to face her, the streets of Japan fading into the background.

“Y/N…” he started, but his voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right words. Or maybe he was afraid of them.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, an apology, anything that could make sense of the pain that had consumed her in the months after their breakup. “We used to be happy until those last few months,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s chest tightened as memories of their past came rushing back. He could see it all so clearly—the late-night conversations that stretched into the early morning, the spontaneous trips, the way she used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. It was all there, and it hurt to think about how they had lost it.

Y/N stood outside the studio, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned against the wall, trying to stay out of sight. She had only been dating Harry for a few weeks, and everything still felt so new, so fragile. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she’d arrived at the studio, the sound of his voice singing had stopped her in her tracks.

She could hear him inside, his voice smooth and captivating as he worked through a melody with a small group of people. Y/N knew she should knock, let him know she was there, but something held her back. She was still shy around him, nervous about stepping into his world, a world she felt she was only just beginning to understand.

The music flowed through the walls, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. She could hear the passion in Harry’s voice, the way he poured himself into every note. It was mesmerizing, and she found herself leaning closer to the door, not wanting to miss a single word.

She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she listened. This was Harry in his element, doing what he loved, and she didn’t want to interrupt that. But as much as she loved hearing him sing, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like she was intruding on something private.

Just as she was about to quietly slip away, the door to the studio creaked open. One of the musicians stepped out, giving Y/N a polite nod as he passed by. She froze, hoping he hadn’t noticed her lingering there like some awkward fan. But as the door swung wider, Y/N realized with a jolt that Harry was looking directly at her.

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up with surprise and something else—something warmer. A smile spread across his face, and he excused himself from the group, his gaze never leaving hers as he stepped toward the doorway.

“Hey darlin’” Harry said softly, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and affection. “How long have you been out here?”

Y/N blushed, feeling caught. “Not long,” she lied, glancing down at her shoes. “I didn’t want to interrupt… You sounded amazing, by the way.”

Harry chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “You could’ve come in, you know. I don’t bite,” he teased, but his eyes were gentle, understanding her hesitation.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she admitted, still feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Come here. You can never distract me” Harry said, his tone sincere. He reached out, taking her into a tight hug. Harry pulled Y/N into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to shield her from the world. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Harry held her close, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. The tension she had felt earlier began to dissolve in the comfort of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace that only he could bring her. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a scent that was both familiar and calming.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his eyes soft with affection.

“You are staring” She murmured, her voice low and tender. Before she could add anything else, Harry leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal his words with reassurance.

The kiss was sweet, filled with a quiet promise that made Y/N’s heart flutter. When he pulled back, he gave her a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth. Without letting go of her, Harry reached down and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. His grip was firm, yet gentle.

“You tell me,” Harry said, his voice suddenly sharp, cutting through the tension between them. “You were the one who left.” The bitterness in his tone was undeniable, the memory of that night still raw and vivid in his mind.

Y/N flinched at the harshness in his words, the pain of that night rushing back to her as well. “You still don’t get it? “How hard is to accept the fact that I left you because you didn’t deserve me?”. She shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “You shut me out. You pushed me away until I couldn’t take it”.

Harry’s jaw tightened, the frustration and hurt that had been simmering inside him now boiling over. “I didn’t know how to talk to you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. “I still don’t know how to talk to you”.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking all over again. “You made me feel like I wasn’t enough,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Like I couldn’t do anything right, and that no matter how hard I tried, I was always going to lose you.”

Harry’s expression softened, the anger in his eyes giving way to regret. “It’s here” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as they arrived at the restaurant.

As they arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere feels almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that still lingers between them. The restaurant is tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its traditional wooden façade illuminated by soft, warm lights. The sliding door opens as they approach, and they are greeted by the chef, a kind-looking man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing. His warm smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and he bows slightly as he welcomes them.

"Welcome," the chef says in a gentle voice, his English tinged with a thick accent. "It is an honor to have you here today."

Harry returns the bow, his hand still lightly resting on Y/N’s back as they step inside. “Thank you for having us,” he replies, his tone respectful.

The chef guides them down a narrow hallway, leading them into a cozy kitchen space at the back of the restaurant. The kitchen is immaculate, with gleaming countertops and neatly arranged utensils. Fresh ingredients are laid out in beautiful wooden bowls, each one perfectly prepared for the lesson ahead. The smell of fresh fish, rice, and various seasonings fills the air, making Y/N’s stomach rumble slightly in anticipation.

The chef turns to them with another smile. “Today, we will be learning the art of sushi,” he says, gesturing to the ingredients. “Please, take an apron.”

Y/N reaches for one of the aprons hanging on a nearby hook, the fabric soft and clean in her hands. She fumbles slightly with the ties, her fingers a bit clumsy as she tries to secure it around her waist. Before she can figure it out, Harry steps forward, his hands gentle as he takes the ties from her.

“Here, let me help,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet warmth that makes her heart skip a beat.

Y/N turns slightly, allowing him to stand behind her. She feels the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck as he carefully ties the apron around her, his fingers brushing against her back in a way that sends shivers down her spine. There’s a tenderness in the way he handles the simple task, a care that speaks volumes, even without words.

“All set,” Harry murmurs, his voice close to her ear. He gives the ties a gentle tug to make sure they’re secure before stepping back, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, her heart fluttering at the look in his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers, her voice soft as she tries to ignore the way her emotions are threatening to bubble up to the surface.

The chef, oblivious to the silent exchange between them, claps his hands together, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. “Let us begin,” he says with enthusiasm. “I will show you how to prepare the rice, and then we will move on to cutting the fish.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to refocus her mind on the lesson ahead. But even as the chef begins to explain the process, she can’t shake the feeling of Harry’s hands on her, the lingering warmth of his touch a constant reminder of the connection that still exists between them, despite everything that has happened.

Part 2

[narrycherries]

ivy: he’s gonna burn this house to the ground

He has added insult to injury and she gives him one chance to make it right.

(part 8)

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 17.5k

warnings/tags: harry x oc, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, alcohol use, fluff

A heavy feeling had been weighing her down for the past two weeks. Ivy wasn’t sure why things happened the way they did, why things always went wrong for her. She was almost certain that everything had been fixed, that her situation with Harry had finally turned positive and hopeful. Unfortunately, she was wrong. He hasn’t talked to her since that night. There were no texts, no calls, nothing at all. It made her heart anxiously flutter and her head fill with racing thoughts - all of which just made her feel worse.

The feeling was a mix of pain, confusion, and fear. It hurt her feelings that he hadn’t talked to her. There had to be a reason why but she was so bewildered by it. What went south? What happened that caused a rift? And of course, above all else, she was terrified. She gave a small piece of herself to him and he ran off with it. She trusted him and allowed her lips to melt into his. Was it not enough to make him stick around? Was she not enough?

Emma was unaware of what happened between her and Harry during the party. As far as Ivy knew, nobody knew what occured. She was going to tell Emma a few days after it happened, because she was so excited to finally be able to express her feelings for him. But when she realized he hadn’t reached out to her, her feelings about everything shifted. She was embarrassed. Maybe she overreacted and Harry was just being nice to her.

Of course, she replayed the night over and over in her mind several times as she tried to figure out what was going on. Harry had been so sweet to her, so caring and concerned. She was sure that he meant it. Did she do something wrong? Maybe begging him to kiss her was too much too quickly for him. Whenever it popped in her mind, her hands went clammy and her stomach dropped. She wanted to scream.

It didn’t end on a sour note. When they went back inside that night, Harry stayed close by as they danced with their small group and even when they all sat around talking and eating at the table. Harry was pleasant with everyone, even Cory - despite being irritated with him. He was enjoyable. It’s almost like everything stopped and stayed at the bar. Those bubbly feelings she had turned to worry. The absolute pleasure that kissing and touching him gave her was burnt out. Ivy wanted to know why Harry wasn’t talking to her, why he didn’t reach out, why he kissed her that night and then suddenly disappeared..

“Hey.” Emma’s voice filled the quiet living room as she came down the hall, a towel wrapped her hair up on top of her head.

“Hey.” Ivy sighed out.

She wasn’t particularly thrilled when Emma sat down on the other end of the couch, her eyes moving to stare at Ivy. She had noticed that things weren’t so well the past few weeks. At first, Emma assumed that Ivy was just having some bad days and she needed to recharge on her own. But once the second week hit of her avoiding Emma in their shared spaces and insisting to not cook any meals or spend any time together, she knew something was wrong.

“Ivy, have you been okay?” She asked with a soft voice, not sure what to expect.

“I’m fine.”

Emma didn’t accept that answer. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Ivy, what’s wrong?”

As much as she wanted to curl up into a ball on the floor and cry her eyes out, or sit in the bathtub as the water poured onto her from the shower head, or sit in her car in the driveway and let a sad song break her even more - Ivy knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t vanish, she couldn’t avoid it anymore. Emma had noticed, and she knew there would be no end of the discussion until the truth was revealed.

Ivy licked her lips and chose to lock her gaze on the wall in front of her, not wanting Emma to see her eyes water over. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Emma gulped quietly and tried to remain calm, she didn’t want to freak out or scare Ivy off.

“The other night.. at your party.. Harry and I sat together and talked for a while.” She felt a pinch in her heart, it hurt to even mention it or think about it. Emma stayed silent and waited for the rest of the story, assuming there was more to it. Ivy chewed on her cheek for a few moments, deciding how to word the rest. “He was.. very nice to me. We talked about some.. personal things and eventually we.. were holding hands and kissing.”

Emma’s eyes went wide and she tried her best to control herself. She didn’t want to scream or look too terrified by the information. Ivy dropped her eyes to her hands where she was fumbling with her own fingers. She was sort of irritated with herself that she didn’t tell Emma this sooner. It would have been so exciting to debrief everything and squeal about all the possibilities as they both grinned. She just knew Emma would be so happy for her. There was relief, though. She didn’t have to face the consequences of telling her that he hadn’t spoken to her since. It would be more embarrassing.

“You kissed him?”

Ivy nodded lightly. “We kissed for a few minutes.. just light stuff, nothing intense.”

“Did you.. like it? Like, do you really like him?” Emma was hesitant, but she was hoping to be helpful.

“I do, yeah, but I don’t think he likes me in the same way.”

Emma furrowed her brows. “But he kissed you and touched you.. You don’t think he feels the same way?”

There was so much doubt in her mind, and so much guilt filling her heart. She was selfish and she took advantage of their closeness, she did what she wanted and now it seems that it wasn’t something he wanted. She crossed a line and he was being too open with her, too nice to her.

“He hasn’t talked to me since that night. No text or anything. If he liked me.. don’t you think he’d.. want to see me again? Or at least.. text me?”

It was easy for Emma to pick up on the sadness in her tone. She hated knowing that Ivy was so upset about this, and so worried about how it would play out. She took a deep breath and moved closer to her on the couch. Ivy shook her head as she felt a tear slip down her cheek. She didn’t want to cry again over this, especially not in front of Emma.

“Have you texted him?”

“No.”

Emma gave her a half smile. “Maybe you should try. He might think the same thing you’re thinking.”

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I liked him.” Ivy rolled her lips in as she tried her hardest to keep the tears from rapidly falling.

“Harry’s a bit stubborn.. maybe he doesn’t know what to do.”

Ivy wasn’t open to considering anything. “It’s me. He doesn’t like me.”

A frown covered Emma’s mouth. “Ivy, don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not hard to tell that he likes you. Niall’s even mentioned it to me before. He’s probably just unsure of how to approach it.”

It felt sickening to know that everyone has clearly noticed that there’s an attraction between them - Michelle wasn’t the only one. She swallowed harshly and wiped at her eyes, ridding her skin of the tears despite having replicas take their place. How could he be so willing to hold her hand and sit next to her and touch her waist and kiss her.. but not be up to reach out to her? It didn’t make any sense. She was drunk and vulnerable that night, it was most likely that she just felt her emotions too deeply. Harry was being nice to her, not flirting with her. He was being there for her as a friend, as a nice person. Right?

“Well, maybe everyone is blind because it’s obvious to me that he doesn’t care.” She threw her hands in the air, giving up on everything. She felt defeated.

Emma was slightly unsure about how to approach everything, but she wanted Ivy to at least know she wasn’t the problem. Ivy stood up as she was about to speak.

“He’s probably nervous, Ivy. I’m sure it’s not easy for him. He hasn’t been the nicest person to you.. he’s probably afraid he’s messed up too much.”

Ivy walked a few feet away, her back towards Emma as she battled the competing thoughts racing in her mind. “It doesn’t make sense. He.. he told me he didn’t hate me. He.. he wanted to kiss me first. God, I feel like I’m sixteen.”

Romantic relationships were not something she had much, or really any at all, experience with. She wasn’t sure what to classify this as. She knew she was head over heels for him, but was it that deep? She had nothing to compare it to. All she was sure of was that nobody she had ever gone on a date with or kissed made her feel the way Harry did. Nobody has ever occupied so much space in her mind before, claimed so much of her attention even when she wasn’t with them. No kiss had ever made her stomach fall and her heart twist in her chest, or made tingles roll down her spine and her head dizzy. Nothing had ever made her feel that way. It must be more than just physical attraction, but she was afraid to admit it to herself. One four letter word terrified her more than anything.

“From what Niall’s told me, Harry’s never had, like, an actual girlfriend. Maybe he doesn’t.. know how to do it.”

Ivy let out a sarcastic laugh. “It doesn’t take a genius to text someone.”

Emma frowned to herself. As much as she wanted Ivy to see her perspective, she knew it was going to be hard. Ivy’s thoughts are clouded, she isn’t thinking straight. She’s confused and upset, any obvious explanations aren’t going to cut it.

“You can text him first, Ivy. It’s not like we’re still living in times when the guy has to make the first move.”

The comment irked her. She was annoyed by everything anyway, but that just made it worse. Ivy didn’t move or rotate to face her, though, she didn’t want to be rude or let her anger get the best of her. She huffed through her nose and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ve tried multiple times to talk to him and be nice to him. I’m not going to do it first this time. He owes me that. He should take a turn for once.”

To think about the amount of effort she put in to be polite to him was frustrating. Even after he insulted her that first time, she tried her absolute best to be kind to him. She didn’t want to hate him, she didn’t want to have any harsh feelings when he was around. She desired to be nice to him, to get to know him. Ivy put in so much work, and it seemed to be a waste now.

“Ivy-“

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Emma. It doesn’t matter.” She finally turned around, a mix of annoyance and sadness swept across her features.

Emma sighed softly. “I don’t want you to be upset.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Ivy gave up on everything. Without saying anything else, she disappeared down the hall and turned the lock on her bedroom door. She’d spend yet another night jotting her messy thoughts into her diary before crying herself to sleep, the stuffed animal Harry got her tight in her arms. She missed him more than she ever dreamed she would.

—•—

Later on in the week, Emma convinced Ivy to finally get out of the house and go do something more enjoyable than sitting in her bed sulking. It was Friday evening, she had gotten home from work early and hoped to stay home and relax. Emma brought up the idea of going to get a quick dinner together. She mentioned that she missed being around Ivy and she was hoping they could spend some time together. Of course, that made Ivy feel guilty for abandoning her friend for so many days, so she agreed to it.

They ate at one of their favorite restaurants. The conversations were light and funny, both of them avoided the hard topics Ivy dreaded to think about and that Emma nervously wanted to know. It was a relief to not discuss the situation with Harry, though. Ivy was able to think clearly and be in the moment with Emma, instead of losing her mind and getting lost in her head. When they finished eating, Emma mentioned that she needed to go by Niall’s store. Ivy wasn’t sure of the reason, but she didn’t mind.

Niall was working the later shift at the store, which was unusual for him for a Friday. He was scanning someone’s items at the register when they walked in. He looked up and smiled as he saw Emma. Ivy’s gaze started moving around the store like it normally did when she came here. She wasn’t new to the place, but everything was intriguing and attention catching for her. There was music playing softly from the ceiling, but the sound of someone in the back playing a guitar was overpowering whatever song was on. When the customer left, they met Niall at the counter.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Ivy.” He said after walking around the counter to give Emma a hug and a kiss.

She put on a light smile. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping to myself.”

“Well, we’ve got a show tomorrow night if you want to come out.” His invitation made her skin crawl. Usually, it would sound like a fun time and she’s agree to it, but not this time.

“I’m just going to stay home.”

Niall noticed the frown that shaped on Emma’s lips. He furrowed his brows and looked back to Ivy. “Everything okay?”

She shrugged, choosing to stare at her own hands now. Speaking to Emma about everything was hard enough, she didn’t think she’d be able to discuss it with Niall. Not only was Niall Harry’s roommate, but they were best friends. How could Ivy vent to him about his friend and expect him to be on her side? Emma wanted to say something, but she knew it would be crossing a line. Niall had some ideas about what was happening, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Did something happen with Harry?”

Emma nudged him and sighed, not pleased with the fact he just jumped straight to the point. Ivy met his concerned stare and she knew that she couldn’t get out of it, yet again.

“I don’t know.”

He dropped his brows lower. “You don’t know?”

“It’s complicated, Niall.”

“I know it is. He told me about it.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

It wasn’t shocking news to hear, she suspected that he probably knew something. Emma pushed out a sigh and let go of his arm, giving him an irritated look. “Niall, she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Ivy licked her lips and thought quickly about what could come from this conversation. She wondered what all Niall knew. Did Harry tell him every little detail or did he tell it the way she did and just breeze past everything? Did he know that Harry was so sweet to her and was doing his best to make her feel better? How did the story go in Harry’s point of view, what all did he tell Niall? She shot her eyes back to Niall’s and gulped gently, there was nothing to lose.

“What did he tell you?”

Niall looked over his shoulder, almost like he was seeing if anyone was around. There were a few customers lurking in the store, but surely they weren’t that important to not speak in front of. Emma gave him a funny look when he did it again, double checking himself.

“What?” Emma said confused, looking back to see if she saw anything suspicious.

Niall turned his head back, giving them both a glance. “Harry’s in the back.”

Ivy felt her heart freeze and her chest tightened. Tension filled her body and strained her muscles, she was struggling almost like someone dropped a ton of bricks on her.

“I don’t care.” She forced out the lie, trying to appear nonchalant.

Niall could obviously tell she did care to a certain extent, but he wasn’t going to pester her about it. Instead, he took a deep breath and started explaining what he was told. While he spoke, Emma kept her eyes on Ivy to catch her reactions. She didn’t want her to get upset again.

“Well, he told me about.. how he found you outside and talked to you for a while. And he told me about the hand holding and the kissing.” Niall paused in case she wanted to say something, but her eyes were glued to him and she stayed quiet. “He also told me that he hasn’t spoken to you since then.”

“No, he hasn’t.” She had a firm line over her lips.

He nodded gently. “I know. He told me he’s-“

“Niall, I don’t want to know.” Ivy interrupted, rolling her eyes and shifting her body so she wasn’t facing him anymore. “I don’t want to hear it from you.”

“I can go get him.” Niall offered.

“No.” She was quick to reject the offer. “I don’t want to see him. I just.. want to go home.”

When her eyes moved to Emma’s, there was a silent understanding between them. Emma reached into her purse and took out her keys, passing them to Ivy. She was giving her the opportunity to go to the car if she wanted. Ivy took the chance and soon walked out of the door, the bells jingling above her made her ears ring.

Knowing Harry was in the same building as her made her stomach churn. Every piece of her was hurting, coated with fear and anxiety. She didn’t want to be near him. She didn’t want Niall’s version of Harry’s feelings and thoughts. Right now, the only thing she wanted was to disappear.

Ivy accidentally slammed the car door when she shut it. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, fighting back a scream. There was a lot of anger boiling beneath her skin, but she was still sad.

Back inside, Niall received a gentle slap on his arm from Emma. He threw his hands up, silently surrendering to her. She was not pleased with what he said to Ivy, in fact she was very mad about it. She crossed her arms and shook her head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“I don’t want the girl to think she’s done something wrong. I was trying to help.”

Emma was tapping her foot on the ground, irritation taking over. “And seriously? Suggesting that you go get him? Niall, that was unnecessary.”

“Babe, I didn’t mean to make things worse. I thought maybe she’d want to talk to him. I’m sorry.”

Emma could easily explode any second now. She was disappointed that Niall was so bold and straight forward with Ivy. No matter how good his intentions were, he shouldn’t have done that. She was about to say something in return when a customer walked to the register. Niall quickly handled their transaction as Emma stepped a few feet away to give them space.

Once Niall had finished with the customer, she leaned her elbow on the counter and gave him a sour look. He locked the register and gave her a gentle frown, knowing that he messed up. He wanted to apologize again, but he was sure it wouldn’t matter.

“She’s been really upset about this.” Emma mumbled out, everything was crashing down at once.

Ivy was angry, but more than anything she was heart broken. Having her best friend feel that way made Emma just as sad. She wanted to scream at Harry and tell him how stupid his choices were, but she knew Ivy wouldn’t want her to do that and Niall wouldn’t either. It wasn’t her place to get in between them, just as it wasn’t Niall’s either.

“I was going to tell her that Harry’s been really worried about it. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s not like he’s.. the most open person or whatever.” Niall tried to offer the explanation, but he knew his words weren’t going to mean as much as Harry’s would.

Emma rolled her eyes. “He’s hard headed. There’s no reason why he should still act that way towards her.”

“I know that, Emma. I’ve tried to give him my advice.” Niall’s voice was lighter than it previously was.

“Do you really think he likes her, Niall? It would crush her if he didn’t.”

“He does. He told me.” Niall nodded, then pushed himself off the counter, his eyes looking past Emma. “Don’t say anything.” He quietly muttered to her.

She looked over her shoulder in time to see Harry walking up. She felt her stomach fall. He gave her a look, but didn’t offer a smile or anything too polite to her. He was concerned with one thing only, telling Niall he was about to leave.

“I’m out of here.” He said, gesturing his head towards the door.

Niall flicked his eyes to Emma’s and he easily caught her expression. She was practically pleading with him, and he caved quicker than he realized. He took a quick breath and mentally hit himself for doing this.

“Harry, wait.”

The call of his name made Harry stop just as he grabbed the door handle. He looked over and lifted his brows, hoping this wouldn’t take long. He was ready to go home and become reclusive in his room. Niall tapped his finger on the counter as he managed to get a sentence together in his mind.

“I just talked to Ivy.”

Harry shot his gaze to Emma for a split second. “Congratulations.”

Of course he was going to keep his hard front on in Emma’s presence. Not only was she Ivy’s roommate, but she was her best friend. He wasn’t going to be vulnerable.

Niall rolled his eyes. “I think you need to reach out to her, Harry.”

“I think you need to mind your business, Niall.” He mocked Niall’s tone and snarled his lip.

“Please.” Emma chirped out.

Harry shook his head, but he refrained from being rude to her. Instead, he focused on Niall. “Don’t talk to me about this again.”

“Harry, be more considerate of her feelings.” Niall tried to get through to him, but like always it was a failure.

“She’s better off without me considering anything involving her.” Harry made that his final comment. He pushed the door open and walked out, leaving Niall to drop his forehead against his head.

He was unaware of Ivy’s location, and he wasn’t paying enough attention to realize that she was in one of the cars outside the building. He didn’t catch a glimpse of her, though. However, she saw him. It was hard to resist looking at him and following his strides as he went to his motorcycle. Ivy bit down on her lip and pinched her own thigh, trying to distract herself but it was impossible. Harry was so close to her, and this time she could see him - but she knew nothing was going to happen. She watched him get on the bike and put his helmet on. She wondered how often he drove it, she obviously knew he had a car, too. Was it more freeing and fun to ride the motorcycle? Has he always been into them or was it a newer fascination? There she goes - getting lost in her mind, tangled in her thoughts about him. It was entirely too easy for her to trip over him.

Ivy ripped her eyes away and stared at the dashboard of Emma’s car, mixed emotions swirling in her body. It was heart wrenching and painful and annoying and aggravating and literally every emotion all at once. She wanted to hate him, but she could never bring herself to feel that way.

—•—

Although Emma tried her best to convince Ivy to go out for the night, it was a wasted attempt. She declined and eventually said she was tired of being asked, so Emma respected that and accepted the reality that Ivy wasn’t going to cave in. Ivy helped Emma with her outfit, of course, like a best friend would. They went back and forth on a few things, but eventually settled on something. Emma was sad to leave without her, even Niall asked to make sure Ivy wasn’t coming when he picked her up.

Ivy’s plans for the night consisted of take out and a movie. She wanted to snuggle a blanket on the couch and eat some of her favorite candies while she watched the television. She wasn’t concerned with what Emma was doing or what anyone else would think about her not being there. For the first time in the past two weeks, her mind was empty and her heart was calm. She relaxed with a glass of wine, settling on the couch once her dinner was over. Everything was normal, everything was peaceful.

Things were different at the bar, though. When it came time for the band to get ready to go on stage, Harry felt his stomach begin to twist and turn. He was nervous, and he normally was never, ever nervous to perform. If anyone had confidence and energy, it was him. Tonight was different. He sighed heavily as he watched Michelle check her phone one last time before sliding it into her back pocket. They had about three minutes to spare before they had to walk out. Niall was making sure everything was set up correctly while Zayn and Cory talked to each other.

Harry gulped quietly and mustered up his usual courage. “Hey, Michelle.”

She looked up and raised her brows high. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Harry to talk to her, he was her friend after all. He looked over towards the guys, then back at her. Her curiosity grew when he chose to walk closer to her, closing their distance.

He kept his voice low as he spoke. “Do you know if Ivy is coming tonight?”

“I know that Emma’s coming.”

He nodded lightly, forcing down the lump in his throat. “But you haven’t.. talked to Ivy?”

“No, I haven’t.” She shook her head, then tilted her head to the side. “Why are you so worried about it?”

“M’not worried.” He grumbled back.

She laughed. “Sure you’re not.”

“Whatever. I just wanted to know.” He huffed out, a flush covering his cheeks. It was sort of embarrassing for him to be so gushy about someone, and it was worse to think that Michelle suspected something more was going on. “Forget it.”

“Harry.” She quickly said his name as he turned away. “She’ll probably be with Emma.”

Her hopeful comment wasn’t enough to ease his anxiety. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t spare her a glance. He simply nodded his head and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. The owner offered them celebratory shots ten minutes ago that most of them accepted, Harry did not. He regretted that now, he needed something to distract him.

When he first got on stage and started singing, he was keeping his eyes fixed on the crowd and trying not to pick out any specific person. He was hoping to dissociate from what was going on, but as time went on, it was challenging. Harry was facing a slew of feelings. He was still very anxious, yet he was annoyed with himself for being so caught up on his thoughts. He was worried - what if she was here and she was being bothered by someone? He was on the stage and unable to be there for her. He was upset at himself for being so fixated on her, yet he couldn’t stop it.

Dissociating was his most successful process so far. They were half way through the show and he hadn’t even realized it until it was time to sing a certain song. He gulped down his anxious thoughts and started the song. Niall knew the significance of this song, so he kept his eye on Harry. He was unsure of how Harry would react.

As he sang the lyrics to “Crimson and Clover”, his eyes scanned the crowd in a different way this time. He was trying to find her, trying to catch just a glimpse of her long, pretty hair or see her smile shine as she danced. His eyes kept landing on Emma throughout his search, and just like every single time he’s looked at her tonight, she was alone. Emma wasn’t dancing with Ivy, she wasn’t singing along and grabbing her hands and jumping around - Ivy wasn't here.

He hoped that maybe she was just sitting at the bar to keep her distance from him, that would make sense. Avoiding him was not something new to her, so maybe she was trying to do that. The longer he sang into the microphone, the deeper his thoughts went and the more he convinced himself she wasn’t here at all. Not at the bar, not in the bathroom, not in the back of the crowd..

That lead to the spiraling thoughts of wondering where she could be. Was she alone at home, curled up in her bed asleep? Was she visiting her dad, maybe she was out of town and that’s why she missed the show? Or she could be out on a date, she could have moved on from him and be exploring different options. That thought made his chest go tight. He fucked up. He ruined his chance. Ivy didn’t want to be near him, she didn’t want to risk her own sanity. And he didn’t blame her.

When the show ended, Harry joined everyone at their usual spot. However, he wasn’t speaking at all. He downed two beers quicker than he should have. The goal was to get drunk, not to talk to anyone. Michelle glanced his way every now and then, aware of at least a partial reason why he was mute. She didn’t think that Ivy’s absence would affect him this much, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.

When Emma came back from the bathroom, she sat down in between Niall and Harry. She took out her phone and started typing, the bright screen attracted Harry’s eyes. He didn’t dare read over her shoulder, he just noticed she had her phone out. She closed it after a few moments. Niall was talking to Zayn, so she was quiet next to him. Harry took the opportunity to say something.

“Emma.” He said loud enough for her to hear over the music.

She looked his way. “Yeah?”

Eye contact was too overwhelming. He looked down at his hands as he twisted one of his rings over his fingers. The scar on his skin made him frown as the memory of Ivy being so curious about it began to circle his mind. He took a deep breath and gently swallowed. Emma was being patient, giving him time to compose his words.

“How’s.. how’s Ivy doing?”

As much as she wanted to sarcastically laugh at him, she held it in and just kept her eyes on his face. She figured her staring was uncomfortable for him so that was going to be his punishment.

“Do you mean today or in general? Because lately she’s been going through it.”

He lifted his head and moved his eyes to hers. “Is she sick?”

Her brows dropped, was he clueless? “No, she’s fine.”

“Did.. did she have plans tonight?”

Emma easily caught the gist now. She pushed out a heavy breath. “No.”

“Why didn’t she come?” Harry couldn’t hold the stare anymore.

The desire to be polite to him was starting to fade. She knew all too well how Ivy had been feeling lately and it was all because of him. Emma shifted so she was facing him now, a serious look spread on her face. Harry could feel her stare burning holes through her, like daggers being thrown.

“Probably because she didn’t want to be around you.”

He nodded slowly, fully expecting that sort of response. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“A lot of sense to me.” She quickly replied.

“Is she mad at me?” He leaned up to grab the half full plastic cup he sat on the table a few minutes prior.

Emma wanted to grab him and shake some sense into him, but she knew she couldn’t do that. Not only would it be rude, but Ivy wouldn’t want her to. She knew the importance of accountability, and Harry needed to take some.

“Why are you asking me?”

He rolled his lips in for a moment. “I don’t know.”

Harry hated himself for what he did to her, for how he’s treated her since day one and for how he’s been acting now. He should’ve never done that if he knew he wasn’t going to pursue anything with her - and it’s never been his intention to make anything happen. He wasn’t good for her, she needed someone who could really love her.

Emma saw how far his frown tugged the corners of his lips down. While she was annoyed with his behavior, she had to remind herself that he was human. Everyone makes mistakes, and everyone deserves respect and sympathy.

“If you want to know how she is, you have to ask her yourself, Harry.”

All he did was lightly tilt his head back, his eyes were glued to his knees and his mind was dizzy with thoughts. Shortly after her final words, Emma occupied herself with Niall and left Harry alone. For the rest of the night, they all pretty much left him to himself. He downed more beer, ordered heavier drinks, and threw back shots. He wanted to get wasted, he wanted his thoughts to vanish. He didn’t want to think about Ivy, or anything for that matter. He swallowed the alcohol faster than he was taking breaths. The intention was to forget about her.

As the early morning rolled past three o’clock, Ivy was sound alseep in her bed tucked under her covers. Her bedroom was cool, but the heat her body let out encased her in a comforting warmth. Her bedroom was quiet, in fact the entire house was. Emma told her before she left that she’d be staying at Niall’s tonight. Ivy wasn’t expecting any sort of interruption. She was glad to be in a quiet space, after all her worrying her body needed the rest and relaxation.

That sense of peace ended abruptly when the sound of her phone ringing blared throughout her bedroom. She groaned, pulling the cover over her head to shield herself from the sound. She wasn’t sure of the time, so if the sun was out she didn’t want to risk her eyes being exposed to it. The phone rang until it went to voicemail. She figured it was some sort of spam call or something along those lines. It became silent again, so she hummed to herself as she got comfortable, ready to fall back asleep.

It was short lived. Just a few minutes later, the phone was ringing for a second time. She huffed this time, annoyed by the sound. Although she had a few thoughts pop in her mind, like maybe something was wrong with Emma or it was an emergency from her dad, her brain was fuzzy and she only wanted to sleep, not entertain any particular thought.

The third time the phone rang, she sat up in her bed and started mumbling to herself, cursing the noise for waking her up. She snatched the phone off her nightstand and pulled the charger out, bringing it closer so she could see. Her eyes squinted from the bright screen, but as they came back into focus, she saw five letters that made her heart drop. Harry.

Ivy read the time, furrowing her brows as she realized how late it was. Why was he calling her this late? She ignored the call, but opened her phone to check the previous missed calls. They were indeed all from him. What if something was wrong with him? Why would he be calling her? She felt an immense amount of anxiety start to build inside of her. The what if’s kept flying into her mind, circling her brain until her heart was fluttering from the anxious feeling. What if something bad happened?

Before she could even comprehend what to do, the phone rang for a fourth time. The sight of his name displayed on the screen was fueling her worry. If he was calling her again, that meant that he needed her. Something wasn’t right. Ivy sucked in a quick breath and answered the phone, pressing it to her ear as she anticipated hearing his voice. On the other end of the call, Harry was shocked that she answered.

“Hello?”

“Ivy.” His deep voice sounded groggy, almost like he was in the midst of falling asleep or just waking up.

She closed her eyes and calmly spoke back, trying not to fall apart. “Harry, why are you calling me?”

A grunt came out before his words. “M’sorry.. I know it’s late, Ivy.”

The sound of his voice saying her name was like music to her ears - a sound so beautiful and perfect that she wished she could hear it forever. Ivy gulped and took a long pause, which made him more nervous than he already was. She could hear how hard he was breathing, but it was slow.

“It’s very late.” She finally said back. “Are.. are you okay?”

Harry hesitated at first, only because he was unsure of how to word it. The alcohol was still present in his body. His mind wasn’t clear, and his heart was overpowering everything else. There was one thing he wanted.

“M’fine.. sorta.” He managed to get a couple words out, despite it not being what he wanted to tell her.

“Sorta?” She questioned, her voice so soft and light.

He wanted to reach through the phone and take ahold of her hands, he wanted to press a kiss to her forehead and tell her how pretty she was. He melted when she used that gentle tone, her innocence and sweetness made his heart swell.

“I.. m’not hurt or anything.”

A sigh of relief softly slipped through her lips. When her eyes opened, she realized it was dark in her room. She leaned over and switched on the lamp on her nightstand, the warm glow casted onto the ceiling. Harry was quiet as he waited for her to speak. As much as he wanted to ramble to her, he knew he had to be careful. One wrong thing could mess this all up.

“Why.. why did you call then?”

He gulped loud enough for her to hear over the phone. “I.. I have a question.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “A question at three in the morning?”

“M’sorry, Ivy, I know it’s.. it’s late.” He repeated what he already said.

Ivy felt a bit of irritation start to creep in. She wasn’t angry with him at this very moment, but she was confused as to what was happening. If he was alright and unharmed, then why was he calling her? More importantly, why was he avoiding telling her the truth?

“Harry, tell me why you called or I’m going to hang up.” She kept her courage solid, not willing to risk letting him get the upper hand in any way. One thing she had to enforce when it came to Harry was her own strength.

“Please, don’t.” He whispered out.

“Harry, I’m serious.”

She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought she heard him let out a soft whine. Thinking about him being sad was causing her heart to ache. She vividly remembered, and could never forget, how special it felt to have him console her when she was upset that night. Ivy wondered if he needed her in that way now, if it were his turn to be taken care of.

Harry choked out his response, his heart was racing in his chest. “Can.. can I see you? I.. I need to talk to you.”

She sighed. “Right now?”

This time she was sure she heard the whine he let out before his words stumbled from his mouth. “Yes, please. It’s.. it’s important, Ivy. I.. I need to see you.”

Everything was surreal now. She was becoming dizzy as the thoughts stormed in her mind. Harry was being more open than he ever had been. He was admitting that he needed to see her, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. She wanted to see him as much as he needed to see her..

“Are you drunk?”

Harry sucked in a breath, his nerves getting the best of him. “Yeah.. but it doesn't matter. I need to talk to you, please.”

Ivy’s heart skipped a beat as scary thoughts crossed her mind. “Are you driving?”

“No.” He was quick to answer, not wanting her to worry about him too much. “I’m with Michelle.. we had a show tonight.”

There was a quick feeling of remorse and regret growing in her gut. Although she was successful at not thinking about it all night, she began to wonder how the show was. She imagined Emma dancing along and cheering loud for them. She was curious to know what song they started off with because it was never the same order. And of course she was curious about their slower songs, what did Harry sit down on the stool and sing to the crowd? How many songs did he play the guitar while he sang? Did Harry’s eyes look out in the crowd for her, did he scan over heads and bodies trying to find her gaze? Her stomach was churning at the thoughts - had he been expecting to see her?

Ivy finally replied, pushing out a sigh. “Can this wait until-“

“No, Ivy.” Harry interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut as he silently prayed. “Please. I’m begging you, love.”

Just as every other time he’s said the word to her, it made her heart grow until it exploded in her chest. Her mind went fuzzy and her stomach filled with giant butterflies. It was such a simple word - one she wasn’t even sure was special - yet it easily drove her wild. It made her collapse like puddy in his hands.

“Ivy.. please.” He muttered out after a few long moments of her silence.

It was hard to weigh the pros and cons of her options. She was too focused on him to worry about anything else, including what wrong could come from this. It was safe to say she really didn’t care about the possible consequences.

“Okay.”

“Really?” He blurted.

“Yeah.” She kept her voice calm and light, not wanting to give away too much of her feelings over the phone. He didn’t need to know how worried she was about him.

“Michelle’s gonna drop me off. Is.. is that okay?” His voice quietened again, he was clearly nervous.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just text me when you get here.”

Without waiting for his response, she ended the call and gripped the phone tight in her hand. She didn’t want him to get the last word - maybe that was part of her resentment towards him. He spent two weeks not communicating with her, he could survive the rest of his drive to her house.

Once Ivy realized what was actually about to happen, she climbed out of her bed and crossed her room. She put on a comfortable pair of pajama pants that didn’t really match her loose t-shirt, but she didn’t care as long as she was covered. She made her way into the living room where she turned on the lamp by the couch and sat down on the cushion, waiting somewhat patiently for her phone to ding.

Her eyes trailed over to the chair that Harry claimed as his spot while he stayed the weekend with her that time. The memories easily came to the forefront of her mind - he was so quiet and respectful while he was here. He watched the television with her mindlessly or sometimes focused depending on the show or movie, he sat at her kitchen table, he used her sink sponge, he touched the items in her refrigerator. He left his mark on everything in her house, including her.

Ivy opened the camera on her phone and looked at herself, hoping that she didn’t look worn out or ugly. Her hair was a bit messy, but she had it pushed over her shoulders. She let her lips shape to a soft smile as she thought about the night Harry touched her hair to move it for her. She liked the way it felt to have someone else’s fingers glide against her hair, especially Harry’s fingers. A sudden noise made her jump. A text message popped onto her screen, all of this was about to become very real for her. This wasn’t a dream.

Harry: I’m here

She didn’t reply, instead she moved her eyes to the door. She waited quietly, not sure how long it would take him to reach it. The house was extremely quiet, it was almost eerie. Her nerves were getting worked up as she sat there frozen on the couch. The sound his knuckles created against the door sounded amplified. She stood up and adjusted her shirt as she walked to the door, there was no going back now. If she really wanted to ignore him and forget this idea, she could simply turn around and go back to her room and leave him at the door. But that would be such a cruel thing to do. She wanted to see him, she just didn’t want to admit it to herself.

When she opened the door, she was met with his broad frame. The glow of the light outside of the door covered him, his saddened face shining in the yellow gleam. A frown was settled over his lips, his eyes weren’t wide open and his brows were limp on his forehead.

“Ivy.” He muttered her name out softly, afraid to speak too loudly to her.

She licked her lips and looked him up and down. He was in his usual attire, a dark colored tee and a pair of black jeans. She expected nothing different when it came to his clothes. And although it wasn’t necessarily cold outside, his leather jacket was tight on his arms. She gulped quietly, pushing down all the mixed emotions.

“Come inside.” She gestured with a nod of her head.

Harry dropped his eyes to his feet as he stepped over the threshold. He couldn’t believe that she was allowing this to happen. He knew he had one chance and he couldn’t fuck it up. There would be no way she would be able to forgive him if he did. Ivy shut the door behind him and turned the lock, chewing on her cheek as she watched him walk a few feet away from her. He was almost stumbling over his own feet.

“Hey, are you okay?” She appeared in front of him, her small hand reaching out to touch his elbow.

He was slightly hunched over, his head low and his arms seemingly weak by his sides. He grunted and lifted his eyes to look at her, surprised that she touched him but so grateful that she did.

“I’ve.. been trying to.. to sober up.”

Ivy nodded lightly, sliding her hand down to his wrist. He moved his eyes to witness it for himself. She carefully grabbed onto his hand, but she didn’t lace their fingers. She kept it loose, in case he wanted to pull back from her. She doubted he would, though.

“Do you want to sit down?”

Harry’s brows furrowed as he thought about her question. He had stopped drinking almost an hour ago, but the amount he consumed was more than he normally had and it was getting to him. He shrugged lightly before deciding to squeeze her hand. She liked the gesture, but she chose not to return it.

“Harry, look at me.” She reached up to nudge his chin with the side of her finger.

He sighed, but obliged with her command. When his eyes met hers, it was so easy to tell she was concerned. He felt his pulse go haywire as he stared into her pretty eyes. He missed her so much, missed looking at her and seeing her eyes sparkle.

“M’sorry m’drunk.” His voice was almost a slur.

“It’s fine. You just need some water and a snack.”

He shook his head. “No, I.. I wanna talk to you.”

“You can talk to me after I make sure you’re okay.” Ivy finally squeezed his hand back, that alone made his mood shift. He wanted to pick her up and twirl her around, but he didn’t have the stability to do that right now. “Are you tired?”

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, but then he frowned. “But, but I.. want to talk, Ivy, not sleep.”

She let a soft laugh escape. “I know, we will.”

“Where are we going?” He asked as she started to walk, tugging him behind her.

“You seem dizzy and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He groaned slightly. “I won’t get hurt.”

“Shh, or I’ll make you go home.” She warned, slightly joking with him.

He smiled gently to himself, confused as to what she was doing but he was going along with it. He looked around as he walked the familiar path down her hallway. He had wished that weekend with her lasted a lot longer than it did, and now he’s glad he’s back. When she got to her bedroom, she opened the door and immediately guided him to her bed.

Harry’s eyes began to look around the room, it was foreign to him as he was forbidden from entering it during his stay. Ivy pointed to the bed, silently instructing him to sit down. He did as she wanted and let his head fall back so he could see her. She gave him a light smile and looked down at his feet.

“Take your shoes off. I’m going to go get you some water and something to eat.”

Just as she let go of his hand, he grunted and quickly spoke back. “Wait, am I.. am I staying here?”

���Well, I’m not driving this late at night and.. I figured you’d rather stay the night than find a way home.” She crossed her arms over her chest loosely, her eyes looking straight into his. “No funny business, though.”

“I.. I can stay on the couch.” He tried to stand up, but she grabbed his shoulder to push him back down.

“For now, stay here. We can talk when I get back, then I’ll get you a blanket for the couch.”

Harry didn’t say anything back, he was unsure of how this would go. When Ivy left the room, he let his curiosity get the best of him. He wasn’t sure what her room looked like before tonight. He had his wonders and his assumptions, but what he saw was more than he imagined. He figured she had a lot of girly things, maybe mostly pink or a chic white that matched everything. He was somewhat on the right path.

Her room was rather large, enough for her king sized bed to fit nicely while still having plenty of room. Her bed was tucked into the corner, and it was filled with more than just pillows and blankets. She had a collection of stuffed animals of varying sizes perfectly placed in the corner of the bed. They expanded out and against the wall, almost to the foot of the bed. Harry twisted his body as he looked around the room. He was amazed by all the different stuffed animals she had. Some were big and round, almost like thick pillows, while others were smaller and tucked tight against each other. When he looked at her pillow, he didn’t expect to see the pig he got her sitting there. It looked as though she abandoned it when she got up. Maybe she was sleeping with it cuddled against her? He hoped that was the case.

She had a few plants in her window that looked to be thriving and healthy. There were several little random things sitting next to the plants, including a small geode, a fairy figurine, and a glass jar full of buttons. He thought it was adorable, her mix of random odds and ends. She had a tall bookcase that was mostly full of things, only one shelf housed books. It was evident that she liked to collect random things. Most of the items seemed to be older or of a certain style. Harry felt as though he could discover something new every time he made his rounds in the room. There were things tucked here and there. Her vanity was neatly organized, aside from a few makeup products left out. He wondered what her routine was. Was it quick and easy or was it complicated and lengthy? His favorite thing, though, was a small, decorative glass dish on her nightstand that was placed next to her lamp. It was home to something familiar, something he recognized the moment his eyes landed on it. There in the small dish laid the guitar pick he had given her as a keepsake. It made his heart shake as he realized she kept it so close to her. It seemed like a safe spot for it, somewhere she could leave it and not worry about it. He knew she’d keep it safe. As he was scanning his eyes over the pattern of her rug, the door opened.

“I got you a banana.” She said with a soft sigh as she reached him, handing him the bottle of water and the piece of fruit she picked out.

He took them and started to peel open the banana. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ivy sat down next to him, almost close enough for their bodies to touch. “If it’s not enough, you can have something else.”

Harry bit a piece off, chewing slowly as his headache started to pound harder. He closed his eyes to avoid the light, even though the lamp wasn’t bright it was enough to irritate him. Ivy watched him with worried eyes, not sure if he was going to pass out or throw up whatever his stomach was holding on to.

“Do you feel bad?” She asked quietly, her hand touching his thigh as she leaned closer, their arms brushing together.

“M’alright.”

She breathed out, not believing him. “Your face is red. Are you hot?”

“Little bit.” He mumbled back.

Ivy jumped up and walked towards the door. She flicked the switch, then went to pull the chain of her ceiling fan, turning the light off but leaving the blades spinning. She hoped that would help him some.

“Take this off.” Her hand touched his arm, her skin pressing against the leather jacket.

He finished off the banana, dropping the peel in her hand as she extended her palm to him. She tossed it in the small trash bin next to her vanity, not caring about taking it to the kitchen right now. Ivy kept herself a few feet away as Harry tugged the jacket off his body. He smiled to himself as she took it and laid it gently over her vanity chair.

“Now, that should help.” She returned to her spot next to him.

Being able to feel the cool air against his now exposed skin was actually relieving. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back messily. The motion made Ivy chew on her cheek. He was always so attractive in her eyes.

“Can, um, can we talk now?” Harry turned his head towards her, glad to see her sparkling eyes were already looking his way.

“I guess so.”

He didn’t know exactly how to say what he wanted to, so he took a long moment to think it through. He didn’t want to mess it up and ruin things with her again. She was too important to lose. Ivy was patient with him, understanding that not only was he upset, but his mind was juggling the alcohol, too. He realized he was staring at her leg, so he looked back up. The glimmer in her eyes made his heart flutter.

“I’m sorry I.. I haven’t talked to you.” He pushed out the words nervously. “I was.. kind of.. afraid.”

She licked her lips and swallowed softly. “I didn’t think you could be afraid of anything.”

The gentle smile on her mouth made his tension ease. “When it comes to you, I am.”

“You really hurt my feelings, Harry. I was.. very upset.”

His brows dropped and a frown tugged on his lips. “I know I did. I’m sorry.”

“Why were you afraid?” She wasn’t going to let him off that easily. She wanted to know the details and the reasoning behind his decision.

Harry tore his eyes away from her. He couldn’t stomach looking at her while talking about this. He was ashamed and upset at himself, and disappointing her made him feel terrible.

“Because I.. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to risk it. M’not good for you.”

Ivy trailed her gaze down to Harry’s hands. He was twisting one of his rings around his finger. It was evident that he was nervous and probably embarrassed. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who willingly admitted their feelings - she knew he wasn’t normally doing things like this. Although the whole situation hurt her, she couldn’t get past how he was battling this. She felt bad that he was so nervous. Ivy wanted him to fully trust her, to know she was right here.

“Why do you think that?”

The laugh he let out wasn’t humorous. “It’s pretty obvious I’m shit at treating you right.” He shook his head lightly as he pulled one of the rings off to push it down on another finger. He was trying to distract himself, but Ivy’s presence was making that impossible to achieve.

“You weren’t shit the other night. You were pretty good at it.”

He exhaled, not sure what to do. “Was I though? I didn’t talk to you after. I should have.”

“Well, I agree. You should have. But.. you were there for me when you didn’t have to be.” Ivy shifted her upper body so she was facing him, her hand moved to his forearm.

He looked over at her hand, noticing the perfectly painted pink polish on her nails. Her skin was the softest thing he’d ever felt. That night she held onto his hand like he’d slip away any moment was something he cherished. He missed the feeling of her skin.

“I know it’s kinda scary. I.. I was afraid to let myself open up to you, but when I did it felt so good. Like you were the only person I wanted to be around.” She pressed the pads of her fingers into his skin, careful not to let her nails sink into his flesh. “We don’t have to be scared anymore, Harry.”

When she said his name, he bit down on his tongue and tried to control the tingles running through his body. She was the one thing he wanted, the one thing he’d go to the ends of the earth to save. He wanted her, but the fear was strong. Ruining her was his biggest fear.

“I’m going to hurt you, Ivy.”

She squeezed his arm. “Why are you saying that?”

“Because I know it’s true.”

Harry immediately felt a punch to his gut as she let go of his arm. He wanted to beg her to put her hand back, to grip him even tighter. She didn’t move away, though. Her eyes stayed glued to the side of his face.

“If you don’t want to try, then just tell me, Harry.” Her voice wasn’t as soft as before, she was being serious. “I can’t keep.. running in the same circles.”

The thought of losing her to another person was heartbreaking. If he told her he couldn’t do this or didn’t want to, then she’d give up and let it go. She’d move on. She’d start by telling him to go home and never talk to her again. It was the scariest thought in his mind. He couldn’t lose her again, not forever.

“Of course I want to, Ivy. I don’t.. don’t wanna keep trying to.. to ignore you.” Harry fought the desire to reach for her hand. Even while telling her he wanted to do this with her, he was hesitant to make a move.

“Then let’s stop. I hate this stupid game.” Her voice fell back to a soft whisper.

“Can you.. forgive me?” He returned his eyes to hers, the world stopped spinning. “I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t.”

Ivy couldn’t help but to get lost in his eyes. She recalled the very first time she saw them. Nothing was as special as the night he was singing on stage with his gaze glued to her. It was easy to remember how bubbly her stomach was and how fast her heart raced that night. She thought about how worried he looked when she told him some stranger had approached her. But with every good memory, there were bad ones to consider. The night the cup of beer was accidentally spilt on her, his eyes were full of anger and rage. The time at the restaurant when he called her out for staring at him, his eyes were cold and harsh. She wondered if she could ease that anger, calm the rage, and tame the arrogance. She knew he could laugh and joke around. She knew he could grin and smirk. She knew he had joy in him, that he had happiness. She’s seen it first hand, felt the warmth of his smile, experienced the sweetness in his tone and the concern in his eyes. Ivy knew she could love him if he let her.

“Tell me something first.” She finally whispered, carefully placing her hand back on his arm.

He nodded, glancing down at her hand. Her skin was colder than usual, but he figured the temperature in the room was to blame.

“Be honest with me.” She started with a sigh, which made him wary. “Did you hate me when we first met?”

Harry gulped gently, hoping she couldn’t hear or notice his throat move. He licked his lips, his eyes fixated on hers. She wasn’t making it easy to stare at her - her gorgeous features always made him feel immense amounts of admiration.

“No, I never hated you. Not once.” Harry said truthfully.

“Then why did you act like you did?”

He shrugged lightly, the answer was complicated to understand himself, he was sure he couldn’t explain it correctly to her. He chose the best answer, making it quick while still being honest.

“I was jealous.. and I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

Ivy’s brows furrowed slightly. “Jealous?”

“Everyone kept your attention. I felt like I didn’t have a chance. Plus.. some people seem to like you in more ways than others.” His response was genuine and it made her smile a little.

“It’s hard to believe you couldn’t tell I was.. sort of fascinated by you. I would’ve talked to you for hours if you wanted me to.” Ivy slid her hand down some, covering his wrist but stopping before she reached his hand.

“I wanted to believe you were.. but I wasn’t sure. After a while, I knew you’d probably give me your attention.. but I was stupid.” Harry considered asking her to hold his hand, but he didn’t want to seem weird.

“I wish you would’ve tried.” Ivy felt a pinch in her heart. “But I could’ve tried more, too.”

He grunted. “You were nice to me a lot.. when you shouldn’t have been. It’s my fault.”

“Tried my best, I guess.”

Harry went quiet for a couple of long moments. He just stared at her like he’d never see again. Every detail of her face was captured by his brain - he wanted to remember every single inch of her face. She felt a layer of blush rise to her cheeks. Ivy nervously laughed and looked down at her lap. Now was his chance to tell her what he’s wanted to say this entire time, what he should’ve made clear the other night. She deserved to know how special she was, how much she mattered to him.

He reached over with his other hand to gently grab her chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted her head back towards him, their eyes locking. Her breathing became more rapid as the anxiety began to creep through her veins. She wasn’t sure what to expect but she hoped it was going to be good. She couldn’t handle any more sadness.

His voice was low and deep as it rolled through the air, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. “You mean everything to me.. and I’m sorry if I ever made you think that you didn’t matter.”

“You did.. a lot.” Her lips fell, it was hard to admit it to his face but she knew he had to hear it.

He nodded back, already aware of his mistakes. “I know, and I’ll spend the rest of life trying to make it up to you. I’m sorry, Ivy.”

She finally moved her hand down to his, slipping her fingers around his palm. “I forgive you,”

“You don’t have to.” He furrowed his brows. As much as he wanted her to, he didn’t think he deserved her forgiveness.

She playfully rolled her eyes and leaned forward to place a kiss to his cheek. “But I do.”

“You’re too sweet to me, love.” He smiled when she kissed his dimple a second time.

“Just showing you that it’s possible for someone to be sweet to you.” Her light giggle made his smile grow.

“I like it, I know that for sure.” His fingertips traced her jaw bone as he moved his hand, settling it on the side of her neck just below her ear.

She nuzzled further into his touch, enjoying the way it made her feel. Ivy’s lips pecked a kiss to his chin, almost brushing his lips but she didn’t dare do that.

He rubbed his thumb over her skin. “Such a sweet girl, hm?”

“Sometimes.”

“Most of the time.” He clarified, his lips touching her cheek as he spoke. “Can.. can I kiss you?”

Ivy let out a quick breath, followed by a bigger smile and a soft laugh. “Please do.”

Harry molded his lips to hers and instantly sparks went off. He was gentle with her, paying attention to how she moved and reacted to him. The last thing he wanted was to move too quickly and scare her off. Ivy let go of his hand and grabbed onto his waist, squeezing him hard as she let out a soft moan. Since his hand was free, he slipped his arm around her body, pulling her forward. They moved in sync for a few minutes, softly pecking each other’s mouths and laughing between breaths. Harry had never kissed someone so gently before, aside from the first time he kissed her. It was magical and beautiful to him, everything was soft and sweet. It made him appreciate it more. It was special.

Ivy leaned back as she exhaled, but she didn’t go far. They stared at each other for a long moment, then returned to the kisses. This time, Harry held them longer and deeper. He wanted to ease her into doing more without scaring her. He didn’t know what her experience entailed.

A groan slipped out of his mouth as her hand found its way to his face. She held his cheek, keeping his mouth glued to hers. They were both lost in bliss, neither of them stuck dealing with their thoughts right now. Everything was perfect and just the way they imagined. Ivy felt some relief as Harry’s tongue gently poked out, silently testing the waters. When she didn’t pull away, he took that as permission. Her lips parted and his tongue slowly entered her mouth. She sunk her nails through the fabric of his shirt, anchoring into his body as he ran his tongue over hers.

Harry heard every single whimper and soft moan she let out, and he enjoyed every sound. He went on for as long as she wanted, letting her run her hand down his chest and around to his back. He let her do whatever she wanted. Her fingertips lurked around to the nape of his neck, twisting in his hair. That pulled a grunt deep from his throat, his stomach twisting as he fought back his stronger feelings. He didn’t want to push this too far.

After a couple of minutes of swapping tongue control and moaning lightly to each other, Ivy broke the kiss and left a few pecks on his mouth before pulling back. Her hand slid back to his neck then down, dropping onto his leg while the other still held his waist. He licked his wet lips and smirked as he caught her eyes. Her face was flushed and her gaze was starry.

“You’re good at that.” He whispered, letting a low laugh follow.

She grinned back. “As I’ve been told.”

Harry bit down on his lip, wishing he was back in her mouth. “Sweet but still sassy, hm?”

“Have to keep you on your toes.” Ivy dropped her eye in a wink.

“You’re good at that, too.” He placed a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth, making her blush even harder. “Thank you for letting me apologize and talk to you.”

She gave him a cheeky smile. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“That sounds familiar, hm?” He teased back, picking up on her cute joke.

“I’m glad we talked. This is how it should’ve been before.” She said through a sigh, keeping a smile on her face so he knew she wasn’t sad anymore.

“I know, but we’ll keep it this way from now on.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

Harry took a slow, deep breath and held it for a few seconds before pushing it out. He let go of her, bringing his hands to his thighs. Ivy wasn’t sure why he was moving away from her, but when he suddenly stood up she quickly joined him.

“I guess it’s time for me to head to the couch.” He nodded his head towards her bedroom door.

She felt a lump forming in her throat, but she pushed it down and stayed confident. “You don’t have to.. unless you want to.”

He really couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was she insisting he stay in her room and sleep in the bed with her? He didn’t want to assume anything, so he made sure to clarify.

“Do you want me to go in there?”

She shook her head shyly, her eyes falling down. “No, but.. if you want to, that’s fine.”

Harry chuckled as he took hold of her hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. “I’ll stay here with you.. I’d be honored to.”

“Okay.” A sweet smile covered her lips as she picked her head up to look at him.

“I’ll keep my clothes on.” He mumbled, glancing down at the fabrics latching onto his body.

Ivy couldn’t manage to get any words out, she was too embarrassed by him saying that. She couldn’t resist imagining him without a shirt on. She wondered what hid beneath the fabric.

“I’ll do what you tell me to do.” Harry said as he watched her eyes move over to the bed.

“There should be enough room.. with all my stuff.” She scanned over the plushies and roughly calculated the amount of space they had available.

“You don’t have to move anything for me.”

Ivy heard him but she ignored his comment. She climbed on the bed, moving on her hands and knees. She sat down and started to shift a few of the larger ones closer to the wall, creating more space for herself. She preferred to sleep in the middle of the bed, so she was leaving the outside open for him. Her legs slipped under the blankets before she looked back to him. He gave her a smile, amused by the precision she used to place the stuffed animals.

“Are you okay with the outside?”

Harry grabbed his belt buckle. “Whatever works for you, love.”

“What are you doing?” She chirped, her eyes widening as she watched him pull the belt through the loops.

He let out a light laugh. “Just taking this off so m’not laying on it. Is that alright?”

Her racing heart relaxed as she understood what he was doing. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know it’s.. weird and unexpected. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m okay.” She assured him with a smile and a nod, then she patted the open space beside her. “Get comfy.”

Harry pulled each ring off his hands and carefully placed them on her nightstand. She had seen him wear more before, but tonight it was just a total of four. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it back, his eyes glancing down at the white sheet. He wasn’t expecting this to happen at all. He never would’ve imagined this option would be in the cards for him. With a gentle sigh, he got into her bed.

Ivy stayed still as he got situated, and once he was comfortable she laid down on her side to face him. There was space between them, but it felt like there was none at all. The reality of him being in her bed next to her was pumping her brain full of intense thoughts. Harry was in her bedroom laying next to her..

He was on his back with one arm resting over his stomach and the other folded underneath his head. His eyes were on her, though. The glow from the lamp casted a golden light over her, illuminating her features beautifully.

“Sorry you have to see all my stupid stuff.” She said in a mumble to break the silence.

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“My plushies and my crap all over the room.” She rolled her eyes at herself.

It wasn’t that she hated her belongings, it was just sort of embarrassing for her. Her bedroom was her most private space and allowing someone into it was not something she was used to. Emma was the only person who had experience being in here.

Harry was entertained by the annoyance she had with herself. “You have all these things for a reason.. I assume they mean something to you, yeah?”

“Yeah.. I’d say so.” She shrugged back.

He stared into her dazzling eyes for a moment, easily distracted by them. “Then it’s not stupid stuff. You love these little things.”

“It’s mostly silly things.”

Harry smiled. “Silly things you love.”

She became silent as her cheeks kept a hold of a thick layer of blush she couldn’t seem to get rid of at all. Harry kept his stare on her while she looked down, keeping her eyes away from his. It was so easy to feel his eyes, to feel the burning of her skin as he fixated on her.

He wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep talking or if she was tired. Her eyes weren’t struggling to stay open, so maybe she wasn’t sleepy just yet. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind, but he focused on only a few. He wanted to hear her voice, wanted her to talk his ears off. Without contemplating any further, he turned himself onto his side to face her, his arm sneaking under the pillow. His other hand dropped to rest on the mattress, capturing her attention. She stared at it for a long moment, wondering if she should grab it or not.

“Y’know.. I missed you at the show tonight.” Harry’s low tone made her toes curl, she loved the sound of his voice.

She darted her eyes back to his. “Well, I didn’t figure you’d want me there.. so I chose to stay home.”

“I messed up big time, hm?” He sighed out slowly, regretting so much while still being thankful for this moment and everything that happened tonight. “Hopefully you’ll come to the next one.”

She nervously laughed at his wink. “If I’m invited, of course.”

Harry moved his hand across the space between them and slid it beneath hers. “This is your invitation.”

Ivy smiled sweetly as he squeezed her hand. She chose to let him go, only so she could guide his hand where she wanted it. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be okay with whatever she wanted him to do. She placed his hand on her waist and let her fingers fall from his skin. He shaped his hand to her form and held her tight, glad to know she was wanting this from him.

She didn’t verbally acknowledge her actions. “Did you sing any new songs?”

“Yeah.. I sang one for you.. thought I’d see your pretty eyes in the crowd.” His lips turned to a smirk when she shied away from his stare.

“What song?”

“Lips of an Angel.. when I heard your karaoke rendition I figured you liked that song.” He tried to catch her gaze but she was purposely denying him of it.

“I love that song.. I’m sorry I missed it.”

“I’ll play it for you next time.” He squeezed her waist, getting her attention.

“Promise?” Her eyes moved to his finally after her tricks.

“Promise.”

There was only thing circling Ivy’s mind, and that was that she wanted to feel his lips on hers again. She wanted to kiss him until the world ended. The desire was burning inside of her, she was becoming impatient with her own thoughts. Harry believed he was good at catching every micro change in her expressions, so he noticed when she was suddenly distracted. He lowered his hand just a tiny bit on her waist, trying his best to get her attention. As her eyes shifted back to his, he gave her a soft smile. Before he could get anything out, she spoke.

“Harry.. can you..” The words were quiet, and the pause was not part of her plan. That confidence she thought she possessed had burned out, or at least vanished for now. She was nervous again.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Harry reminded her as he watched her tongue poke out to coat her lips.

She pulled in a breath, then mustered up enough strength to ask him. “Can you come closer?”

“Yeah.” He was quick to reply.

Ivy felt the warmth radiating off his body come closer to her as he shifted over on the mattress. They were still apart, though. She didn’t think that would be enough to hold her over. She moved her hand onto his forearm, circling her fingers around him. Harry could tell she wanted to say something else, but she was anxious.

“Want me closer?” He decided to just ask her to make it easier for her.

She lifted the corners of her mouth, her eyes peering into his. “Please.”

He obliged and scooted closer to her, leaving just a few small inches between their bodies. Ivy’s heart grew ten times bigger as she realized how close they were. There was a relief that came with it. She felt safer now. If there was anything she was sure of, it was that Harry would do anything to protect her.. whether they were in a crowded bar or not.

“Is this better?” He asked, also noticing how much closer they were now. Her face was aligned with his, and the need to kiss her was trying to take over.

She grunted lightly. “A bit closer.”

Ivy was the one to move this time, fully closing the space. Her chest softly pushed into his, and at first she was hesitant about the feeling, but she quickly let it go. There were more important things to focus on in her mind. Harry’s hand slipped to the small of her back as he held her body against his own.

“Is this okay?”

He nodded lightly. “Perfect.”

“You’re so warm.” She whispered as her eyelids fell shut, she was soaking up every second of it.

Harry gently touched his lips to her chin, the heat of her breath fanned over his skin. “You’re quite the cuddle bug, hm?”

She put on a shy smile, burying her face into his. “Guess so.. never done this before.”

“Neither have I.”

Ivy dropped her brows, not fully believing him. “Really?”

“This is too personal and intimate.. never done this with anyone.”

She swallowed carefully, hoping not to make an audible noise. “Too personal?”

“It’s not a bad thing with you, love. I didn’t care about anyone else. I’d cuddle you forever, sweet girl.” Harry was more clear with his words this time, not wanting her to think that she wasn’t worth it.

“Don’t cuddle with anyone else ever.”

He chuckled back, his lips pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Only you.”

“Can you kiss me again?” The question flew from her mouth before she wanted it to, which made her cheeks glow red and her eyes squeeze shut.

Harry licked his lips and smirked lightly. “You can kiss me, too, y’know.”

He didn’t expect her to flutter her eyes open, but being this close made it so intense. She bit down on her cheek, just staring at him as he pecked her cheek again. She wanted to swallow his tongue, wanted to get so lost in his mouth that she would forget it was real.

“I like it when you do it first.” She uttered back, her lips barely moving as she spoke.

Harry didn’t want to tease her anymore, although he liked it when she was on the edge. He put his mouth on hers and instantly everything changed. This kiss felt different, it felt more intense and real. They were laying in her bed together, their bodies touching and their mouths connected. It felt like a dream.

As he brought his other arm out from under his head to wrap around her, she snuck her hands onto his body. One was pressed on the side of his neck as the other crawled down his torso until it landed on his waist. She could feel every curve and dip of his toned body through the fabric of his shirt, and the heat of his skin was burning hot. Harry lost his hand in the back of her head, tangling his fingers into her long hair and grunting loud as he pushed his tongue as far as it would go into her mouth. She enjoyed every second of it, every touch and sound and bump of their bodies hitting together.

Ivy’s chest was pushing into his and he couldn’t help but to feel the hardness of her nipples grow. He tried hard to ignore it, but they were literally against him and it was difficult. The kiss grew sloppier than the previous one had been. Ivy fought for control of his mouth and after a few giggles and scratches of her nails, he let her have it. She exploded his mouth, pulling moans from his throat that made a small damp spot form on her underwear. She had never felt this way before, never felt like she was going to melt into someone’s arms. If she never kissed anyone again, she’d be fine with Harry being her last.

Her mind was so boggled and dizzy that she didn’t realize her leg was lifting to rest over his. Harry was reading her body, trying his best to determine what she wanted. He was confident that she was giving him signals, that she wanted more to happen. He was going with the flow he thought she was giving out. He grabbed her waist, just above her hip, and pushed her back. His elbow dug into the bed as he tried to get above her. But just as he managed to get a leg between hers, she came to her senses and started shaking her head, pulling herself from his mouth. Her hand shot to his chest as he tried to push him away.

“No, Harry, stop.”

He immediately froze and let go of her. He leaned back, tracing his eyes over her face to get her expression. She was frowning and her brows were low, and worse of all she had tears swelling in her eyes.

“I can’t.. not now, I’m sorry.” Ivy’s bottom lip started to quiver.

Harry shook his head and reached up to touch her jaw. “Don’t get upset, baby. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

He swore he saw twinkles in her eyes as they widened. She didn’t care about anything that he said except one specific word. It made her heart stop and her stomach fall, did he actually say that? Harry was getting nervous as she just gazed at him, almost like she couldn’t believe what was happening.

“B-baby?” She muttered out.

“Do you not want me to call you that? M’sorry.”

Her frustrated frown turned up to a smile. “No, I do. I.. I do.”

“Yeah?” He said with a gentle laugh, amazed by her reactions to him.

It was just literal moments ago that she was scared and worried, now she’s being the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Her hand reached up to his neck, pulling him down to her mouth. She laid a few kisses on his lips, then one to both of his dimples. He grinned when she let him go.

“Yeah.” She assured him.

“Then you’re my baby, hm?” He planted a kiss on her forehead before looking back into her pretty eyes. Her emotions were swirled thick, he still wasn’t quite sure how she was feeling. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pressure you.”

“It’s okay, I know.” Ivy said through a brief.

He furrowed his brows, sort of irritated by his own actions. “Got a bit ahead of m’self.”

“Me, too.” She smiled back, letting her teeth show for a second as she laughed.

“I don’t want to rush anything with you. Take your time, okay?” He made sure his tone was serious so she knew he wasn’t trying to do anything she wasn’t ready for.

“Okay.”

Harry moved back to his previous spot, his hand returning to her waist. She seemed fine with the arrangement as she snuggled closer to him again, hiding her face in his neck. When she moved her arm between their bodies, Harry was confused by what she was doing. She covered her own chest, separating their bodies.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I.. it won’t stop.” Ivy whined as she tried her best to get her nipples to relax.

“What’s the matter?”

“My.. my boobs.” She sighed out, not wanting to directly say it.

Harry smiled and held in a laugh, he didn’t want her to think he was making fun of her. “You’re fine, love. Just a natural reaction.”

A huff passed her lips. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I didn’t mind it. That showed me I was doing something right. You don’t have to hide unless you want to.” He had a way of talking that just made her entire body relax. Any worry she had subsided, he knew exactly what to say and how to say it.

“Having my arm like this isn’t comfortable.” She admitted.

“Then put it down. You’re fine.” Harry’s hand moved to gently touch her elbow, insisting she relax her body.

They went silent for a short time, both of them just staring at the other. Harry’s eyes were half hooded as his body began to slowly crash down. He was exhausted, but he was trying to stay active for her. Even after their heated exchange of physical contact, he was tired. Ivy kept looking at the chain around his neck. After a few minutes of just admiring the metal against his skin, she let her curiosity take over. Her hand moved up to his collar, her fingers dipping under his shirt. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her tugging the pendant out of his shirt. She rubbed the cross slowly, feeling the smooth texture of the metal against her skin.

“Curious little cat, hm?” Harry hummed, the vibrations from his throat sounded loud to her ears.

She rolled in her lips as she stared at the cross for a little while longer before letting it fall. “Harry.”

“Yeah?”

Ivy leaned forward to leave a kiss on his chin. “I like kissing you.. a lot.”

A smile yanked his lips up. “Yeah? You’ve got nice lips.”

“Mhm.” She nodded gently when he moved his eyes to meet hers. “And I.. like it when you touch me. Feel so safe when you do that.”

Harry returned the gesture and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, making her curl her body closer into his. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

His hand shaped to the curve of her lower back, securing her body in place. He wasn’t sure how she slept, if she was the kind of person who tossed and turned or if she got settled in one spot and stayed there until morning. It was exciting to know he’d find out soon, that he’d wake up to see her in the morning. Ivy pushed her face back into his neck, her lips leaving a kiss on the base of his throat.

“Promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?” She mumbled out quietly.

He kissed her head, her hair slightly sticking to his lips. “I promise. I have to get some good morning kisses.”

“We’ll see about that. Goodnight, Harry.” Her words were followed by a yawn, he knew it was over for her. She would be fast asleep before she realized.

“Goodnight, Ivy. Sweet dreams.”

—•—

It wasn’t exactly early in the morning when Ivy started to stir, waking up from her deep sleep. She grunted slightly as she felt an incredible warmth engulfing her, the same heat that kept her cozy all night. Her eyes finally peeled open. A gentle sigh left her mouth as she was met with an incredibly close view of Harry’s neck. It was hard to believe it all wasn’t some crazy, elaborate dream. It was real. He was in her bed with her, sleeping peacefully with his arms locked around her body.

The sun snuck in through the blinds and half drawn back curtains. She didn’t dare move her body to check the time, she didn’t care about that. If she moved, she’d disturb Harry and she knew he needed as much rest as possible. Not only did he have a show the night before that wore him out, but he consumed a lot of alcohol and exhausted himself. She wanted him to sleep longer.

As he laid there asleep, she couldn’t help but stare at him. Now was her perfect chance to get an uninterrupted look at every inch of him. Ivy wanted to take note of every detail of his face, look over every little thing to memorize it. So she did just that. For what felt like forever, she observed his skin. She was familiar with his face, but she did take notice of a few small things she hadn’t seen before. When she moved her eyes down his neck, she felt a jolt inside of her at the sight of the structure hiding beneath his skin. Veins, muscles, bones. He was beautiful in every way to her.

What captured her attention the most, though, was his arm. She slowly snuck her hand up to his bicep where she pushed back the cover and started to run her eyes over his tattoos. She’s seen his arms plenty of times before, but she never had the chance to actually look at the ink buried into his skin. Ivy practically held her breath in order to stay calm and quiet. She tried not to make a sound. In addition to his tattoos, his toned muscles wrapped tight by his skin made her heart beat faster than usual. He was attractive in every way possible.

She didn’t really know what hid under his sleeve. She couldn’t recall ever seeing that area of his arm. Her fingers lightly touched his skin, just enough so she could push them up against the fabric. It raised with her movements, scrunching up as she moved it up his arm. She wasn't sure how far she could get it without being a pest and disturbing his slumber, but she tested the limits. A faint grunt came from him as she shoved the sleeve up even further. Ivy paused, her eyes shooting to his to make sure they were still closed. The tiny space between his parted lips hadn’t changed and his eyes were sealed, she was certain that he was asleep.

A smile formed over her lips as she scanned over the tattoos she hadn’t seen before. It made her curiosity about the rest of his body grow. Did he have tattoos on this part of his other arm? Were his legs home to any ink? Was his back free of anything or was it covered? She wanted to know, and she hoped that one day soon she’d find out. Once she made a mental note of the tattoos, she rested her hand on his arm and slowly inched it back down to his elbow. She couldn’t remember a time when she was more gentle than right now. Her eyes were trained on his arm so intensely that she didn’t catch him waking up.

Harry first thought he was imagining something touching him. Maybe it was just the blanket moving on his skin? But he quickly realized there was actually something moving against his skin. When he barely opened his eyes, just enough for him to see through his lashes, he saw that Ivy was in fact awake and touching him. He recognized the feeling of her fingertips on his skin, of her hand moving down his arm. Her pretty eyes were locked elsewhere, not looking his way at all. A subtle smile crept on his lips as he watched her. She seemed to be very focused on what she was feeling and staring at. He wondered what was going through her mind. Was she patiently waiting for him to wake up or was she savoring the silence and opportunity to admire him without being watched? He assumed it was both. Ivy drug her hand further down his arm, rubbing over his elbow before she stopped it again, at the top of his forearm. She was hardly applying any pressure, which created a tingly feeling on his skin.

After a few more moments of watching her, he started to wake up more. He didn’t want to startle her, so he carefully began to move. He slid his hand a few inches up her back, grunting as he leaned his head forward. She had created a little distance when she chose to observe him. Ivy shot her eyes to his face, not expecting to see his eyes. He smiled lightly, still trying to wake up fully.

“Good morning.” She whispered sweetly as she kissed his chin.

He went in for a kiss, but instead of her cheek he opted for her lips. She smiled against his mouth, happy that he greeted her with a few soft pecks. As much as she enjoyed the use of his tongue, she appreciated the soft, delicate actions just as much.

“Good morning.”

Ivy let out a gentle sigh. “Did I wake you up?”

“No.. but I saw you looking at my arm.” Harry gave her a smile, amused by how red her cheeks were.

“Sorry, I was being nosy.” A breathy laugh followed her soft voice.

“You’re fine, love. Do you wanna see the rest?” Harry didn’t give her time to answer, instead he raised his arm up, exposing the underside.

It took all of her control to not burst into flames from the embarrassment of being caught. Although she was shy at first about it, Ivy found herself pulling down the sleeve of his shirt so she could see every inch of his arm. Harry watched her eyes as they moved along his skin, covering every line inked into his arm. She was trying to take a note of each one, making sure she’d never forget them.

“Why are you staring at me? You’re making me nervous.” She mumbled in a light tone, her eyes avoiding his as she fixed his sleeve back to its normal spot.

Harry lowered his arm, returning his hand to her waist. “Because you’re beautiful. Hard not to stare at something so perfect.”

Ivy pushed out a breath and lightly shook her head. She placed her hand on his forearm and gave it a squeeze, wishing he’d go easy on her with his statements of admiration. As much as she appreciated it, it was hard for her to believe it was true. He took notice of how she was growing shy again, her eyes were trained on his neck and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“Do you want to see more of them?”

Ivy perked up, her eyes growing wide with curiosity. A smile covered her lips, Harry was glad to see that his idea had brightened her mood. She nodded and waited patiently as he started to move. Harry laid back and shoved the blankets down. As he grabbed the hem of his shirt, Ivy propped up on her elbow to get a better view. She wasn’t sure what he was going to uncover, but she was ready to glue her eyes to his skin. Harry pulled his shirt up to his collarbones, holding it out of the way.

She was unsure of what captivated her the most - his tattoos or his body. His muscles were toned beneath his skin, just like they were in his arms. He was built incredibly, like a marble statue in a museum. On his abdomen laid a large insect tattoo, sunk deep into skin. Every line was crisp and each blended area of the ink into his skin was smooth. She couldn’t help but want to reach out and touch it, but she was fighting that urge.

Ivy had seen the tattoos at the top of his chest poking out before, but seeing them in their full glory amongst everything else was fascinating. He was a collection of designs, words, drawings, meanings.. These things were a part of him, and she was intrigued by every single one. Harry smirked to himself as he saw her hand come up, but she quickly withdrew it.

“This might be my favorite.” She pointed to the insect, her eyes glancing his way for just a second.

“You can touch me. M’all yours.” Harry carefully grabbed her wrist and started to pull her hand down. He waited for her to resist or pull away, but when she didn’t, he laid her hand over the tattoo. His hand covered hers, pressing down so she wouldn’t be afraid to actually touch him. Ivy held her breath as Harry rubbed his thumb over her skin.

“All mine, hm?” She whispered, her lips barely moving with her words.

Harry chuckled, the movement of his body made her heart flutter. “All yours, darling.”

It wasn’t long after the tattoo tour that Ivy’s stomach started to growl from hunger. She didn’t want to get out of the bed, mainly because she didn’t want to leave Harry’s side, but her stomach was fighting against her heart. She brought up the idea to make breakfast, and that was an offer Harry wasn’t going to pass up. They got out of the bed and walked to the kitchen together. While she cooked, Harry sat at the table and watched her in silence, smiling and holding back laughs as he listened to her talk to herself and get frustrated by the smallest annoyances. Being able to experience her in this kind of scenario was more magical than kissing her seemed to be. Of course he enjoyed that an immense amount - but this was different. He got to witness how she naturally behaved when she cooked and waltzed around the kitchen. She was deep in her own world as she hummed while flipping the eggs. Harry was unable to look away the entire time.

After they ate together, Harry gave her no choice but to let him clean up the mess. She wanted to help, and actually do it all herself, but he refused. He told her she’d given so much time and energy to him in such a short time that it was only right for him to do something for her. It wasn’t long after they finished the dishes that Niall called to find out where Harry had ended up last night. He was astonished to hear that Harry had crashed at her place. Niall finding that out immediately resulted in a call from Emma, who was in the car with him. He was bringing her home since she stayed the night at his place.

Ivy laughed on the phone and promised Emma she’d give her all the details when she arrived. Harry was fine with the fact that Niall and Emma would find out everything and obviously be aware of what was now going on between them. In fact, he was telling Niall the same thing - he’d find out the details later. Since he was going to catch a ride home with Niall while he had the chance, he thought it would be better to tell Ivy what was on his mind before they got here to bother them.

Harry grabbed her waist and pulled her body into his, the strength he possessed made it easy for her to fall into him. She looked up, her pretty eyes full of stars. He just knew there was no pair of eyes more beautiful than hers. He leaned down to her lips and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

“Thank you.”

She let out a light giggle. “For what?”

“For breakfast.” His mouth lifted with a smile. “And for letting me stay.. and for talking with me and forgiving me.”

Ivy pushed herself up on her tiptoes, her lips planting pecks along his chin. “You’re welcome.”

“I promise I’ll call you this time.” His wink made her stomach twirl.

“You better.”

Harry gripped her waist tight, not wanting to ever let her go. “I already miss you.”

“I think I’m gonna miss you more.” She lifted her arms to hug him.

The moment he felt her lips pressing a kiss to the spot below his ear, he regretted saying he needed to go home so early. She had plans today that she couldn’t get out of and didn’t necessarily want to change, so he was being respectful of that by giving her space. As much as he wished he could stay with her forever, she had things to do and he had a few tasks he had to get done at home, anyway. Ivy locked her arms around his neck, letting one hand slip into his hair. He hummed as she tugged at his roots, not wanting to let him slip away just yet. They stayed like that, holding each other breathing slow and steady, until Niall and Emma arrived. He wasn't sure of the exact time he’d see her again, but he knew it couldn’t be too long. He couldn’t survive another two weeks without her.

[a/n:: I am so excited that this part is finally out! I hope you enjoyed soft h :) thank u endlessly for all the positive feedback & love you’ve shown to this series! I don’t think I’ve been this proud of myself before I love writing this series. reblog, like, comment all that nice stuff if you’d like.. see u soon! Ps I was very tied when I edited this so if there’s any errors just ignore them I’ll fix it later]

taglist:

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

@victoriasigaard

@ariiscringe

@harlowsgirl

@lomllover

@haniaaa04

@sideboobrry11

@tenaciousperfectionunknown

@fangirl509east

@fruity-harry

@sassamanda77

@lizsogolden

@prettygurl-2009

@sincerely-yours-marsbar

@mypolicemanharryyy

@angelbunny222

@mads3502

@harrysredroom

@inlikea-coolway

@matildasatellite

@imaginexxharry

@daphnesutton

@triski73

@indierockgirrl

@panini

[mrypotter]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Harry wants to stay with her till they’re gray and old… as long as she doesn’t let go.

Warnings: Kissing? Talk of future? I think that’s it! <3

Note: In Harry’s POV yet it’s third person. I hope that makes sense to y’all. :)

Note #2: Based on the song “Say You Won’t Let Go” by James Arthur. Not the whole song though. (Some lyrics)

Between each lyric- time skip. Lyrics in italics! :)

Masterlist

Requests closed at the moment

Also started another blog! @honeychamomile1

I pulled you closer to my chest. And you asked me to stay over, I said, “I already told ya, I think that you should get some rest.”

“I’m so tired.” She grumbled. Her body squirmed under the blankets as she tried to seek a comfortable position.

“I know.” Harry chuckled in response, his fingers traveling along the skin of her arm as he kissed her temple.

She hummed, her eyes once closed but when he responded she fluttered them open, eyes sparkling at the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Harry.” She laughed out, hand coming up to stroke his cheek, then reaching up to adjust his glasses.

She pulled him forward with her arm around his neck, digging her face into it, and he thanked Merlin she couldn’t see his red face then. He pulled her closer to his chest, arm wrapped around her back as she was once now flushed against him.

“You should stay the night.” She whispered, snuggling herself deeper into him as she kissed the skin of his neck.

He squirmed at the feeling, the tickle sensation spreading from the area she was kissing to his toes. He sighed once she stopped, having to stop the giggles that were threatening to leave his mouth.

He leaned back, taking his arm out from behind her back so she wouldn’t crush it and stroked her hair out of her face as he looked at her.

“I already told you,” he sighed. “you should get some rest.”

She groaned at his reminder, hands reaching up to ruffle his already messed up hair. She was gonna be honest, there wasn’t a time she saw it neat. That that she was complaining, his feisty hair was one of her favorite things about him.

She then pouted when her eyes met his. He chuckled at her stubbornness, shaking his head at her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I have to go back to Ron.” He reminded with a teasing warning look.

“I was hoping you would stay when I gave you the puppy eyes.” She said, putting the show on again. He shook his head once again as an answer.

She pouted deeper, her eyes dropping before she gained composure again to hide the fact she was tired.

“Rude.” She muttered, dropping her hands from his hair.

He laughed on how cute she looked, kissing her pout away with a soft kiss to the lips.

When you looked over your shoulder

For a minute I forget that I’m older

I wanna dance with you right now

Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever

And I swear that everyday you’ll get better

You make me feel this way somehow

Harry could hear the shuffling from the seat next to him, his lover not seeming to be finding a satisfactory position to sit in while doing their work.

“I don’t know what to write!” She exclaimed, dropping her quill as she made movements in the air with her hands in exasperation.

Harry shrugged, peeking at the page number she was on in her textbook and turning to it in his own. The two were doing their Divination homework, Professor Trelawney wanting them to see how the next month for them will go.

“I’m about done with taking this seriously,” she started, shaking her head.

“You’ve been thinking I’ve been?” Harry added, but she continued, ignoring his comment.

“I’m making it up.” She decided, grabbing her quill and looking at her book, humming as she found a potential imaginary scenario that will most likely not happen anyways.

“I’ll….lose a bet….?” She suggested, still looking at her book.

Harry nods before realizing she’s not looking at him.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he replies. “Um…and I’ll…be unlucky for one week.”

She grinned at him. “Mine’s more believable.”

He scoffed. “My book doesn’t have any good ones!” He said as an excuse.

She laughed. “We have the same book!”

“Whatever-get me a different Divination book in the library, will ya?”

She rolled her eyes but got up nonetheless, searching the shelves for something better for the boy. Even though the book she was using was just fine.

She heard him close the book he was previously using and looked over her shoulder at him.

Harry just so happened to be already looking at her, and forgot everything he was thinking about moments prior. He forgot he was a year older since his birthday was in the summer, forgot that his mind should be focused on school work. His brain was occupied with thoughts on how beautiful she looked at the moment. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of him looking flustered just by looking at her, his bright green eyes something she easily got lost in.

He suddenly had the urge to get up and dance with her right in the middle of the library, despite his lack of dancing skills. He wanted to embrace her as a way to claim her his, despite the fact she already was.

Everyday she seemed to get more beautiful, more breathtaking, and more gorgeous.

Even after she chuckled at his act, turning away with thoughts all about him, a soft fuzzy feeling flooded Harry, making him feel all warm inside.

His fingertips became tingly, itching to touch her face her hair her everything. She just left him and he already longed for her to come back.

She did just that a couple minutes later, laying a book down for him as they exchanged smiles.

I'm so in love with you

And I hope you know

Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold

We've come so far, my dear

Look how we've grown

And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old

Just say you won't let go

Just say you won't let go

“Say you won’t let go.”

The sentence made her head come up from his chest, her fingers halting their movements on his hand.

She looked at him and laughed halfheartedly. “What?”

He was serious when she looked at him, and so her small smile dropped suddenly at his serious mood switch.

“Say you won’t let go.” Harry repeated.

“You know I won’t, Harry.” She whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek, the smooth skin soft beneath her finger tips.

“Promise?” Harry asked hesitantly, doubt swarming in his stomach.

She sat up then, and for a split dying second he thought she was gonna leave, leaving him alone in the bed.

Instead she sat on his lap, his back leaning against the headboard. She sighed, legs on either side of his waist as her arms came up, sliding up his shoulders before her hands wrapped around his neck. “Harry,” she whispered, leaning closer.

“I want to stay with you until we’re grey and old. So old we don’t be able to get out of bed, so old neither of us can hear properly anymore. So old that we both have wrinkles covering our faces and even more when we smile. And I do that a lot around you.” She added, smiling as she said such things.

“Really?” Harry asked, voice barely audible. But she heard him well, nodding her head. “Yes,” she started, leaning closer and pecking his lips, sweet and soft, loving and kind. “And I definitely won’t be letting go any time soon.”

“I love you.” Harry whispered.

“And I love you.” She said back against his lips.

I hope you guys liked it!

[ellewritesx]

right person, wrong address

Summary: When an envelope meant for Harry Styles ends up in your mailbox, you can't believe your eyes, until he shows up at your door. What started with misdelivered mail might end up delivering something neither of you expected.

A/N: this is my first tumblr fic guys be gentle! i don't have any other posts lined up yet, just kinda wanted to get my first one out of the way and see what you guys thought. i'm still kind of finding my style, so don't take this too seriously. hope you like it x

Word Count: 2,416

...

Londom hums with the quiet taps of rain against your windows. It's not a storm, just the kind of drizzle that makes everything feel still and turns the world soft around the edges. You haven't quite figured out how to make the heat work properly in your new apartment yet, so you're curled up on the couch with a blanket, a chipped mug of tea warming your hands: one of your most recent thrift store finds.

There are unpacked boxes you've been procrastinating unpacking still scattered across your living room, but you're too tired from assembling the closet in your bedroom. It's a little crooked, and for some reason there were five bolts and a plank of wood left when you were done (where the hell did those come from?), but you're proud of your little handiwork nonetheless.

You nearly forget to check the mail, your package (a gorgeous flowery pillow cover set, score) supposed be arriving today.

You throw on a hoodie, walking down the stairs to your mailbox down by the entryway, the red paint chipping and the little silver slot barely budging. You wrestle the box open with a familiar clatter, sighing at the pile of papers. Junk flyers, something official-looking from your new job… and a minimalistic envelope.

Thick paper. Cream-colored. No return address. It's addressed to flat 5B. You live in flat 4B, so this envelope being accidentally delivered to you doesn't surprise you. The name written on it in sharp, slanted handwriting, on the other hand, does:

H. Styles

Your stomach dips. H. Styles?

You look again, thinking you must've read this... well, neat, handwriting wrong, but no, it's clear.

It's not that H. Styles, you tell yourself. Maybe there's a Henry Styles you're unaware of. Or a Howard Styles. Some poor sucker who's unfortunate enough to share a last name with a global popstar. Surely they're out there.

You hold the envelope delicately, as if it might disintegrate from the weight of the name alone. The paper feels… expensive. Private. You flip it over in your hands. It's sealed. Untouched. Your fingers twitch.

You're not going to open it. Obviously. That would be rude. No, illegal. Opening this envelope would be a federal crime. So you're definitely not going to. At least for now.

But you are going to look at the building's tenant list you got when you moved in, something about ''in case of emergencies'', like there'd ever be an emergency prompting you to call Greg from 4D who sits behind his computer all day, and whom you've frankly never seen besides at that one fire drill a week ago.

You pull the crumpled list out of your junk drawer in the kitchen, littered with various household items and papers you don't want to give a place but can't quite throw away. This is just out of curiosity. You're not a creep, you're... a responsible neighbour. That's all.

You chew on your lip absentmindedly as you skim over the list.

Flat 5B... Harry E. Styles.

You know enough about Harry Styles to know his middle name starts with an E. Edward, you believe. Something you've seen on social media: one of those dumb '12 fun facts about Harry Styles' videos on your For You page. What they didn't bother to give you a heads-up of, is the 'fun fact' Harry Styles happens to be your neighbour.

And for some godforsaken reason, some postal glitch or careless hand or twist of cosmic fate, you are currently holding what looks like a very important, very confidential piece of his mail.

...

You don't sleep well that night.

The envelope sits on your kitchen counter, practically begging to be opened, like an itch needing scratching. Every time you walk past it, your eyes flick to the name. You consider putting it in a drawer somewhere just to avoid the temptation, but even that feels too personal. Too nosy. This isn't your life to peek into.

Only by morning, when the initital shock has subsided, you realize you're going to have to get it back to him. How are you supposed to face him? Maybe you'll leave it in the lobby. Maybe you'll slide it under his door. Quick, anonymous, clean.

And then, around 11:00 a.m., there's a knock.

Not a timid tap. A proper, polite knock.

You freeze mid-step. No one knows you here. You've only lived in this flat two weeks. You're still the girl the neighbour across the hall calls ''newbie''.

When you open the door, he's there. Your pulse stutters like a scratched record.

Harry Styles.

Just… standing on your doormat like a fever dream in a hoodie and black beanie. Rain-speckled and wind-rumpled, holding his phone loosely in one hand, as if he only half-expected you to answer.

''Hi,'' he says, voice smooth but casual, like you're neighbors who've spoken a dozen times before. ''Sorry. Think my post might've ended up here.''

You blink. You stare. ''Right. You're... Harry Styles,'' you blurt, stupidly, like that's not exactly what not to say when you meet a celebrity.

He lets out a soft chuckle. ''That's what it says on the envelope, isn't it?'' he says charmingly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

''Right,'' you smile apologetically. You vanish without even inviting him in, mentally screaming at yourself while you trip over the unpacked boxes in your living room to grab the envelope, cursing softly under your breath. You return quickly, trying not to breathe like you just ran a 24k. God, you need to exercise more.

He accepts it with careful hands. Turns it over once. Nods.

''Yeah, this is it. Thank you.''

His fingers linger on the seal. Then he discreetly glances past you, a little nosy. At your half-unpacked boxes. The record player tucked by the window. The steaming mug on your kitchen island.

''Would you...'' you start, then hesitate, ''would you like to come in for a cup of tea? We haven't properly met.'' You're surprised you actually managed to form a sentence.

''Love to,'' he replies smoothly, taking off his beanie by the door and ruffling his curls, that somehow fall right into place.

You make the tea with trembling hands.

He, in the meantime, wanders around, hands behind his back like he's admiring an exhibit in a museum. Looks at your books, your record collection, your useless, thrifted trinkets. Skims over your Polaroids. Laughs softly at the lopsided note stuck to your fridge: remember to call the heater guy!!! written in a panicked scribble.

''You just moved in?'' he assumes.

You nod, carefully handing him a cup of tea as he slides into a barstool at your kitchen island. ''Either the heater's broken or I've just got two left hands. Wouldn't be surprised if the latter was the case, actually,'' you joke.

He chuckles softly, absentmindely offering to come by sometime to fix it for you, and for a second, it feels… normal. Like he's just a kind neighbour offering a hand. Like you’re just two people talking over a cup of tea. Which you are, of course.

Except that one of the aforementioned two people is Harry Styles. Right. Just a regular Tuesday.

Conversation flows easier than you thought it would. You're quiet, simply nodding along or offering small comments on his stories, but he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems to like it.

You take a sip from your mug, letting the steam warm your face. Across from you, Harry mirrors the movement, his legs crossed beneath him like he's been here a hundred times.

''So…'' he starts, watching you over the rim of his mug as he takes a sip. ''Why London?''

There's a beat of quiet, the soft, jazzy music from your record player in the background. You glance down at your tea, a bashful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. ''I guess I wanted to feel like I was somewhere where things happen, you know? Where people chase dreams. Even if I don't exactly know what mine is yet.''

He nods slowly, ''That's brave. Most people don't move cities without a plan.''

You chuckle. ''Sometimes you just have to throw yourself into the unknown, trusting that it'll work out. That you'll make it work out, y'know?''

Harry grins, and it makes your stomach flip. ''That's how I've done most things.''

''Like music?'' you ask.

''Especially music.''

...

The tea's long gone cold, but neither of you seem to mind. Harry sits in your barstool like he's in his own home, elbows on your kitchen island, mug cradled loosely in his hands. His eyes flicker toward the window, watching the early evening shadows stretching across the street, but he hasn't made a move to leave just yet.

You've been talking for hours now. About little things. Big things. Nothing at all. Weirdly, it's… comfortable. The silence between you two is the kind that invites, not suffocates.

You're humming quietly while drying and putting away the dishes, your back turned to where Harry's sat.

''You know,'' he says after a pause, voice low, ''this might be the first time in months I've been able to just sit. No schedule, no pressure. No... fans or paparazzi. Just… this.''

You glance at him. He's watching the half-full mug of tea in his hands like it holds the answer to all of his problems. There's a crease between his brows, like he's thinking too hard, the same face you'd see in interviews when he's figuring out how to answer a particularly hard question. But right now, he's not that person. He's just your neighbour sitting in your tiny, cluttered kitchen, silently admiring the trinkets that fill it like the normalcy fascinates him.

You don't say anything. You have a feeling he's not looking to be comforted. He just wants to be heard out. To be able to think out loud without fearing someone's documenting his every word, his every move, and twisting it into things far out of his control.

He looks up at you. There's something weighted in his gaze now, something warmer. You feel it stir in your stomach: not nerves exactly, but something deeper, the heavy weight of a genuine connection between two people.

And then, quietly, he speaks up. ''Can I ask you something?''

You nod, not trusting your voice, leaning your elbows on the opposite side of the kitchen counter so you're face to face.

''Would you think I was weird if I said I don't really want to go yet?''

Your throat tightens a little. ''That depends,'' you respond with a harsh swallow, ''Would you think I was weird if I said I don't want you to go?''

His mouth pulls into a small half-smile, one you've seen in countless of photos when lazily scrolling through social media. But it feels different now. More vulnerable. Less rehearsed.

''I don't know what this is,'' he says, fingers tapping lightly against the mug. ''But I know it feels... nice. Being here. With you.''

You don't say anything. Just nod.

He puts the mug down. Then, cautiously, like he's waiting for you to stop him, he leans in slightly, and if you would have blinked you'd have missed the way his eyes flick to your lips discreetly. One hand brushes against your forearm, and the other finds a spot on the side of your face, thumb barely grazing your cheek.

''Tell me if this isn't okay,'' he murmurs.

You're quick to reasssure him, shaking your head, your eyes locked on his. ''It is.''

And then he kisses you.

It's slow at first, testing. Soft. Like he doesn't want to break whatever this strange, quiet connection between the two of you is. You kiss him back, hesitantly, but then a little deeper, because you can't not, with the way he's holding you like he's afraid he won't live up to his own name, his image, the expectations. Like the way he tastes like tea and warmth and the way his lips part just slightly doesn't make something flutter wildly in your chest.

His hand tentatively shifts to cradle the back of your head, drawing you in, but there's no rush.

When you pull apart, barely an inch of space between you, he lingers like he's thinking about going back in.

Your voice is a whisper. ''Thank God for those dumb mail guys.''

He chuckles, breath warm against your skin. ''Good thing they suck at their jobs.''

You laugh, cheeks flushed. He glances toward the door, then back to you. ''I should probably go before my manager has a heart attack. I think he's been refreshing The Daily Mail since last night.''

''Why?'' you chuckle softly, your head tilting in confusion.

He grins, looking at you in adoration, like he loves that you have no idea about the possible PR nightmares, that you're not part of his world in that way. ''He was afraid you'd sell the tour schedule to a news outlet. Terrified, actually,'' he clarifies with a soft chuckle.

You blink once. Twice. ''That was an option? Damn. I could've been rich by now,'' you mutter jokingly.

He rolls his eyes affectionately, cupping your face and leaning forward to draw you in for another sweet kiss. You pull away, a frown etched on your face. ''Wait, that was a tour schedule?'' you ask incredulously, not even bothering to conceal your shock and curiosity.

''And that's my cue to leave,'' he grins mischievously and stands, handing you his empty mug as a futile attempt to distract you.

''No, wait, a tour schedule? I'm going to need you to elaborate.''

''Did I say tour schedule? I meant... well, literally anything else. Bye,'' he says quickly before he can accidentally reveal more secrets.

''Hey, you come back, mister. Harry!'' you protest, following him to your door, making him pause and turn around with a smile.

A wink. ''I'll come by later to fix your heater, love,'' he simply says.

And just like that, he's gone, but not really. He's close, he lives right above you, after all, which makes you bite the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling like a lovesick teenager.

Your phone buzzes with a text barely ten minutes after he leaves. Unbeknownst to you, Harry could barely wait until he was back in his own apartment, grabbing his phone as soon as he plopped down on his couch with a content sigh, smiling at his screen as he types.

Next time, my place. —H

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[deatheaterv]

FIRST LOVE

pairing : harry potter x weasley!fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : harry potter has always noticed you, ron’s younger sister, but it’s only as time passes that he starts to develop feelings for you. determined to get closer, harry finds himself struggling, especially with other boys always around you.

harry didn’t believe in love at first sight. it was an idea that felt too dreamy, too far removed from his reality. but that was before he met you.

the first time harry noticed you wasn’t in any dramatic moment. it was simple, really. on the train to hogwarts, he’d just been looking out the window, lost in his own thoughts, when he noticed you sitting with ginny, laughing at something that had been said. the sound of your laughter caught his attention before anything else. you were warm, glowing, and there was an ease to the way you carried yourself that made harry’s heart beat a little faster.

he didn’t think much of it at first. after all, you were ron’s younger sister, and they were all just getting to know each other. but over time, his feelings grew.

it wasn’t just the way you smiled or the way your hair caught the light. it was how kind you were to everyone around you, how you made others feel seen and heard. harry found himself noticing the little things. like how you always had time to help someone with their homework or how you would slip off to the library when you needed a quiet moment, always finding the perfect books to recommend to others.

and it made harry realize just how special you were. how different you were from anyone else he’d met.

but how could he get close to you? how could he, the boy who was always in the shadow of his own fame and the weight of his destiny, break through the wall that seemed to exist between them?

so, harry did what he always did. he watched. he’d find himself sneaking peeks at you, listening to your conversations with ginny or luna, just wanting to understand you better. but every time he tried to speak to you, the words seemed to slip away. it was never the right time. there was always someone else there.

he began to ask ron more questions, though not directly. he'd bring up random things like how his sister was doing in classes, or if you had any big plans for the holidays, always steering the conversation back to you.

ron noticed. "why do you always ask about her?" he asked one evening, his tone a bit suspicious.

"i’m just curious," harry said quickly, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away. "you know, y/n's really smart. i was just wondering how she does so well in everything."

ron, ever oblivious, shrugged. "she’s always been like that. don’t know how she manages it. but don’t get your hopes up, mate, she’s got plenty of blokes around her."

harry hadn’t really considered that. the idea of other boys showing interest in you made something in his chest tighten. he wasn’t sure what it was, but it made him uneasy. he tried to push it aside, telling himself that he wasn’t the jealous type. but the more he saw you with other guys, michael corner, dean thomas, even lee jordan, the more that tightness in his chest grew.

it was stupid. he was harry potter, the chosen one. why did this feel so difficult?

one day, harry pulled out the marauder’s map and quietly followed you, careful not to be noticed. he wasn’t stalking you. well, maybe just a little. but he was trying to figure out where you went when you had time to yourself. maybe then, when you were alone, he could finally find the courage to speak to you.

he checked the map. you were in the great hall, sitting with the weasleys for dinner. harry’s heart skipped a beat.

he made his way there, trying to keep his steps quiet, hoping you wouldn’t notice him. but as he entered, he immediately spotted you. sitting with ginny, fred, george, and ron, laughing over something, her face glowing in the warm light. harry couldn’t help it. he found himself smiling. in fact, he was so lost in watching you that he didn’t notice ron glaring at him from the other side of the table.

"mate," ron’s voice suddenly cut through his daydream, "what are you doing?"

harry blinked and quickly wiped the goofy smile off his face. "what? nothing."

ron raised an eyebrow, glancing at you across the table. "you’re staring at my sister. again."

"no, i’m not," harry quickly muttered, avoiding eye contact. but it was too late. ron had already noticed.

"you’ve been doing that all evening," ron continued, his tone half teasing, half annoyed. "just... stop it. it’s creepy."

harry flushed, suddenly embarrassed. "i wasn’t... i didn’t mean to..." his voice trailed off. he had no idea how to explain why he was so interested in you without sounding like a fool.

ron just rolled his eyes. "she’s got a lot of attention already, harry. you know that. and she’s not interested in you like that, so don’t get your hopes up."

harry’s heart sank. "i wasn’t. i’m just... i just wanted to know how she’s doing. as a friend."

ron gave him a long look, his expression unreadable. "yeah, sure," he said with a shrug, returning to his food. but harry could tell that ron didn’t quite believe him.

a few weeks later, harry was invited to the burrow for the holidays, and after a day spent helping mrs. weasley in the kitchen, harry found himself wandering upstairs to your room. he knocked softly at the door.

"come in," you told him to, from the inside.

harry pushed the door open, his heart thumping as he saw you sitting by the window, a book in your hands. you looked up and smiled when you saw him. "hey, harry. what’s up?"

"just thought I’d come see how you were doing," harry said with a casual shrug, walking in and sitting on the edge of your bed.

"doing good," you replied, placing your book down. "busy with all the holiday stuff."

they started chatting, mostly small talk at first. it was easy. harry felt like he could just be himself around you. your presence was calming, like nothing else mattered when they were together.

as their conversation went on, harry found his gaze drifting to your lips. he didn’t want to rush things, but it felt like the moment was right. without thinking, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. you didn’t pull away.

the kiss was slow, gentle, the tension between them building. harry’s hand gently cupped your face as he deepened the kiss. he could feel your hands on his chest, pulling him closer. it was everything he had imagined and more.

but before either of them could process what was happening, the door flew open.

"blimey, harry," fred exclaimed, poking his head in, followed by george, both wearing mischievous grins. "we leave you alone for five minutes, and.."

"you two are unbelievable," george added, shaking his head.

harry and you pulled away quickly, both flushed and trying to hide their smiles. "you’re not supposed to be here!" you protested, laughing nervously.

fred and george just laughed, exchanging glances. "oh, we know," fred said. "but it’s too funny to miss."

harry’s face went red, and you laughed, your eyes sparkling with amusement. it wasn’t exactly how he had imagined their first kiss, but at least he had finally made it happen.

and maybe, just maybe, it was worth the wait.

[harryspurpleloofah]

Baggage Claim

Summary: Harry needs to rush to a meeting gate his flight so grabs the first suitcase that looks like his. When he hears Y/N complaining to the staff about how she her bag he pieces together that the suitcase isn’t his. Later they're drinking together and the same lingerie he found in her bag is now being modelled to him.

TW: p in v sex, oral fem receiving, swearing, mentions of drinking, size kink if you squint hard

Harry’s footsteps are quick as he moves through the crowded airport terminal, his mind already halfway to the hotel. The long flight from London had drained him and he can feel it in the tightness of his neck, the way his body wants to slump with every step. But there’s no time for that. He’s used to flying in and out of places, managing the pressure of tight schedules. The job, the meetings, the expectations. It all blends together until it feels like muscle memory.

He’s barely registered his manager’s voice on the phone, rambling in the same tone that’s both familiar and grating.

"Harry, where the hell are you? You need to be at the hotel in twenty. No more delays, okay? Straight to your room, change, and the meeting's at six. Be there. Got it?"

Harry exhales, dragging a hand through his hair as he rounds a corner toward baggage claim. "Yeah, I hear you. I’m on it," he mutters, though his mind is already a million miles away. The meeting is looming, but so is the exhaustion that’s been chasing him for the past few days. He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since he had a proper night of sleep. Two days? Three? It doesn’t matter. He’s just got to power through.

His eyes scan the conveyor belt for his bag, but it’s all a blur now, the usual haze of too many flights and too much noise. His fingers absently swipe at his phone screen, checking messages from his team, seeing another reminder from Jeff: don’t be late.

The airport’s always a strange place for him...people rushing in all directions, tired travelers slinging their bags over their shoulders, strangers walking right past each other without a second glance. He’s used to it, but sometimes, the loneliness of it all gets to him. He’s here, in a strange city, surrounded by people but still alone.

A bag thumps down on the conveyor, and Harry snatches it without a second thought. It’s black, the same style as his, the same size. He could’ve sworn this was his, but then again, in a place like this, things blur. Luggage all looks the same.

He starts to turn away when the woman’s voice cuts through the noise again, louder this time, more frustrated.

"No, I’m telling you, this is not my bag! I know what it looks like. I’ve had it for years!"

Harry’s pace slows, his attention flickering for a moment before he mentally shakes it off. There’s always someone losing their luggage. He’s seen it a hundred times. She’s just another frustrated traveller who’ll be fine once the staff finds the right bag. He doesn’t have time for this. He has a schedule to keep, and that’s the priority.

But then something catches him, maybe a gesture, a movement that pulls his gaze. The woman standing at the counter looks like she’s ready to cry, her hands gripping the counter as she argues with the staff.

For a moment, Harry wonders why he even cares. Maybe it’s the way she’s standing, the way her shoulders slump just slightly when the staff tells her they’ll have to check the lost and found again. He doesn’t know her, but there’s a flicker of something in him. Empathy, maybe? Or maybe it’s just a distraction from his own mental fog.

He moves on, his steps quickening again, but then his mind flashes back to her voice. He thinks he hears her mention something about how important her bag is.

He shoves his phone back into his pocket, his eyes flicking over his shoulder one more time as the staff tries to calm her down. He feels a slight pang, but he pushes it away. It’s not his problem. He needs to focus.

Harry strides to the exit with his suitcase, barely looking down at it. The airport doors slide open, and the cool breeze of the city hits his face. The car he’d booked is waiting, a familiar black SUV, and he climbs in, pulling the door shut behind him.

He tosses the suitcase onto the seat beside him, half-heartedly checking his phone again, and his manager’s message flashes in his mind.

Don’t be late.

But something still feels off. The bag...it didn’t feel quite right.

The ride to the hotel is too short, and Harry’s lost in thought, replaying the earlier scene. He doesn’t know why it sticks with him.

In his hotel room, he’s quick to shed his jacket, moving around like he’s in autopilot, wanting to get it all done and over with. There’s no time to linger, no time to think. He’s got a meeting in less than an hour, and he can’t afford to be late.

But then he stops, his hands hovering over the suitcase. It’s still sitting there on the bed, like a random, inconsequential thing. He starts to unzip it, the dull sound of the zipper breaking the silence of the room.

The first thing he pulls out is a lace black lingerie set. He doesn't exactly remember packing this.

His mind spins for a moment as he pulls out more items...a tube of lipstick, a small notebook with a faded sticker on the front. And suddenly it clicks. This isn’t his suitcase.

His stomach flips. There’s no way he grabbed the wrong bag. He’s been through this a thousand times, and he’s careful.

He quickly shoves everything back inside and zips it shut, his mind racing. Of all the things he could’ve done wrong today, this was not it. He had to fix this.

His fingers tremble slightly as he picks up the phone again and checks the time. He doesn’t have much time before he needs to be at the meeting, but he can’t let it go. He needs to go back. To find her.

He runs a hand through his hair, sighs, and grabs the suitcase. His shoes click against the marble floor of the hotel lobby as he heads back out, trying to act like this is no big deal. It’s just a mix-up. An honest mistake. But deep down, he knows he has to make it right.

The airport isn’t far. The car ride feels even shorter this time. He doesn’t mind the silence. His thoughts are all over the place. What if she’s already gone? What if she doesn’t even care about the mix-up? Or worse..what if she’s angry?

As soon as he steps back into the terminal, Harry scans the area for her. He doesn’t see her at first, but then he hears it. That same sharp, frustrated voice from earlier.

“No, this is unbelievable! You lost it, not me. I’m telling you!”

Harry feels a jolt in his chest. There she is, standing at the lost-and-found counter again, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she argues with a staff member. Her voice is almost shaking with anger.

He hesitates for a moment, watching her. Something pulls at him. It’s stupid, but he can’t just walk away. This is his mistake. He needs to fix it, if only to give her some peace.

“Excuse me,” he says softly, tapping her gently on the shoulder.

She spins around, eyes wide, and for a split second, Harry almost forgets how to breathe. She looks...well, not happy, but definitely surprised. She’s got this look on her face, like she’s not sure whether to punch him or smile.

“I’m really sorry,” Harry starts, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’ve got your bag.” He holds it out, an apologetic smile on his face. “I grabbed the wrong one earlier. Didn’t realize until I got back to the hotel.”

For a moment, she just looks at him. Her expression softens, but there's still a trace of annoyance lingering behind her eyes.

“You—” she starts, but then sighs, rubbing her temples. “Of course. Of course you did. What a mess. My day’s been just perfect so far.”

Harry winces at the sarcasm, but he can’t help the slight chuckle that escapes him.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry again,” he says quickly. “I really didn’t mean to make things worse for you. But if you want, I—” He pauses, glancing at her. “If you need a drink or something, to take the edge off, I’d love to make it up to you. My treat.”

She looks at him, a slight skepticism in her eyes, but then she softens a little. It’s clear she’s still a bit on edge, but she’s not rejecting the idea outright.

“Well,” she says, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, “I am pretty pissed off. A drink might help.”

“Good.” Harry grins, the tension between them slowly easing. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, I promise. Least I can do.”

She nods, finally accepting the bag. Harry watches her for a second, a small sense of relief flooding through him. She might be frustrated, but there’s something in the way she’s talking to him now, less sharp, more resigned, that makes him think this might just work out.

She eyes him for a second, still cautious. “You’re lucky I’m not calling security right now,” she adds, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips.

Harry chuckles. “I’ll take my chances. You’d make a pretty scary security guard, you know.”

Her smile widens just a little, and for the first time today, Harry feels like he might be able to breathe again. Maybe he hadn’t completely messed everything up after all. His meeting would have to wait. Jeff could handle it.

The bar is dimly lit, the kind of place where the drinks are strong, the music is just low enough to talk over, and the walls are lined with leather booths that make everything feel a little more intimate. Harry swirls the amber liquid in his glass, leaning back against the cushioned seat, his limbs loose and relaxed from the drinks they’ve had.

She’s next to him, just as tipsy, her cheek resting against her hand, fingers lightly tapping against her jaw as she looks at him with a lazy sort of amusement. The frustration from earlier is long gone, melted away with every sip of whiskey and the gradual ease of conversation.

“So,” she says, her words slightly drawn out, “when did you see it wasn’t your bag?”

Harry exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head as he takes another sip. “Would you believe me if I said I only got it after I opened it?”

She tilts her head, smiling. “What gave it away? Not a fan of my taste in heels?”

“Actually, I thought the shoes were alright,” he says, lips curling up at the corners. “But I usually don’t pack lingerie. Especially not for work trips.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then she blinks.

“Oh my God.” She groans, eyes squeezing shut as her head drops forward onto her arms. “That’s so embarrassing. Please tell me you didn’t—like—look at everything?”

Harry chuckles, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “Didn’t dig through it or anything. Just opened the zip, saw a very lacy little number right on top, and I didn’t need anymore to know it wasn’t mine so why would I keep digging?.”

She lets out another groan, though she’s laughing through it now. “Fantastic. Love that for me.”

Harry’s still smiling, but there’s something softer about it now, a warmth in his gaze as he watches her squirm. He nudges his glass against hers.

She leans over a bit to explain, “basically I went to Italy to see my boyfriend-”

“Boyfriend?”

“Ex. So yeah I went to see him and the lingerie was for that too but it didn’t really go to plan and let’s just say it didn’t serve the purpose of making me feel prettier.”

“He told you it looked bad?”

“Not directly. But he clearly wasn’t bothered by it since I showed it to him and told him I’d wear it that night but he spent the night god knows where. Honestly, it probably led to the breakup.”

“For what it’s worth,” he says, voice a little lower now, “I think you’d look great in it.”

It’s quick, but he sees it—the way her breath hitches, the way her fingers tighten slightly around the base of her glass. There’s a flicker of something in her eyes when she finally looks back up at him, something that makes his stomach flip in a way the alcohol can’t take credit for.

She laughs, but it’s quieter now, and when she reaches for her drink, she takes a long sip, like she’s giving herself a moment to think. When she finally speaks, her voice is a little different—lighter, but with an edge of curiosity.

“That so?”

Harry hums, tilting his head slightly as he watches her.

The air shifts between them, something subtle but undeniable. It’s not just the drinks. It’s the way they’ve been leaning in a little closer with each refill, the way her knee brushed his under the table twenty minutes ago and neither of them moved away. It’s the way she’s looking at him now, eyes flicking down to his mouth before snapping back up, like she hadn’t meant to do it.

The tension stretches, coils tight, and then she moves first.

“Maybe I should go see if you’re right,” she says, her voice lilting slightly at the end like she’s teasing, but her eyes are saying something else entirely.

Harry’s grip tightens around his glass. His pulse kicks up, but he keeps his expression the same, matching her energy like it’s just a game.

“Well,” he murmurs, “don’t let me stop you.”

She holds his gaze for a beat longer, then slides out of the booth, smoothing her hands down the sides of her dress as she turns toward the exit.

She pauses just before walking away, glancing at him over her shoulder, her lips curling into the faintest smirk.

“Coming?”

Harry’s up before he even realizes he’s moving.

When she changes and comes back out, she barely has time to turn around before Harry’s on her, hands bracketing her face as he crashes his mouth against hers. It’s desperate, messy, all lust and hunger, like they’ve been holding back from the second they sat down at that bar. Her fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and he groans into her mouth, pressing her back against the door.

“Should’ve never said that,” she murmurs between kisses, breathless and drunk on the way he’s touching her.

“Said what?” he mumbles, lips trailing down to her jaw, then lower, dragging against the skin of her throat.

“That you thought I’d look good in it.”

Harry laughs softly, but it’s rough at the edges, his teeth grazing against the sensitive spot just below her ear. “I was just being honest.”

Her hands move to his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. The fabric barely hits the floor before he’s gripping her thighs and hoisting her up against the door, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The first press of him against her makes her gasp, fingers tightening on his shoulders

He rolls his hips once, deliberately slow, just to make her whimper.

“Think I’d rather see for myself now,” he mutters. She doesn’t argue.

He carries her to the bed, laying her down before leaning back just enough to strip her out of her dress. His eyes darken as he takes her in, sprawled out beneath him in that same black lace set he found in her suitcase.

“Jesus,” he exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. His gaze drags over every inch of her before he reaches out, running a slow finger along the strap of her bra. “Knew I was right.”

She bites back a smirk. “And here I was thinking you were all talk.”

“Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong then.”

He does.

His mouth trails lower, tracing every delicate detail of the fabric, his hands smoothing down her sides before gripping her hips and pulling her closer. His fingers slide beneath the waistband of her underwear, taking his time, teasing her with slow touches.

When he finally pulls them down, his breath hitches. “Bloody hell,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

She barely has time to breathe before he’s kissing down the inside of her thigh, his hands holding her steady as he settles between her legs.

His mouth is warm, good.

Her back arches at the first swipe of his tongue in her cunt, her fingers finding his hair again, tugging just enough to make him groan against her. His grip on her tightens, like he needs to keep her there, like he’s got no plans of stopping until he’s torn her apart.

She tries to say his name, but it barely comes out, lost in a sharp gasp when he does that thing with his tongue. He hums against her, clearly pleased with himself.

“Feel good?” His voice is low, rough, vibrating against her skin.

She nods, thighs trembling slightly.

“Use your words, love.”

Her breath catches. “Yeah. Feels—God, it feels so good.”

He grins against her before diving back in, his pace slower now, more focused, like he’s savoring every second.

She comes beneath him, her whole body going almost limp before she shatters, her moan breaking apart in the air between them. He doesn’t move for a long moment, just presses soft kisses to the inside of her thigh, letting her catch her breath.

Then he shifts, crawling back up over her, his lips brushing against hers as he nudges his nose against her cheek.

“Reckon I’m not all talk then?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement.

She laughs breathlessly, pulling him down for another kiss.

“Not even a little.”

He moves back up to her and slides inside her after making sure she’s wet enough. She groans out. He’s huge. She’s honestly a bit scared for a second she’s never had sex with someone who’s as big as Harry. She adjusts herself without making it obvious she’s nervous as he starts to thrust.

He snaps out of his own pleasure for a few moments to look over at her, “you ok? I can stop.”

“No-it’s great. I’m just getting used to you. Keep going.”

“Mm..is that why you’re so tight? Never felt a cock this big?”

She moans as she reaches for his curled locks again. She kisses him again sloppily this time, his tongue smashing onto hers.

He keeps moving in and out of her, his cock getting slicker and slicker as his breaths grow shaky and his lips find comfort in the crook of her neck where he kisses. He adjusts her under him again to get at a deeper angle causing her to arch half off the bed.

He could hear his phone vibrating on the bedside table, probably his manager scolding him but he didn’t give two shits anymore. He couldn’t name a single thing he’d rather be doing than her. He could feel his release coming and he didn’t want to come before she did.

He reached a ring hand down, the coldness making her slightly hiss. He rubbed at her clit trying to bring her there too. She groaned as the room filled with his last few desperate thrusts, their skins slapping a bit slower than they were a few minutes ago.

As soon as she came, he pulled out, spraying her with ropes of cum. It wasn’t the most he’d ever cum in his life but he’d honestly surprised himself even with this. It was certainly the most since he was about 25. And even in missionary? He couldn’t imagine how could it would be if he was actually feeling risky and tried something with her. But for now he needed to focus on cleaning her up.

After he was all done, he let her borrow a Nirvana shirt to wear to bed along with leggings she’d fished out of her own suitcase on her trembling legs despite him telling her to lay back down and that he’d do it. She turned to him in the bed.

“Do you do this often?”

“Mm?”

“Purposely take peoples bags so you can fuck them later?”

“Not usually no. Thanks for the idea though.”

She chuckled softly. “Was this a..um a one time thing?”

“Could be. Could be more.”

“Don’t be so cryptic.”

“Let’s just say next time I see you at the airport, taking your bag won’t be an accident.”

[justlemmeadoreyou]

rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x

nerd!y/n)

summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining

words: 6.1k

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.

Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"

There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends. 

"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.

Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."

A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.

"What's the project, Millers?"

The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."

Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings. 

"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."

Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.

"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.

"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.

"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."

Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."

Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.

The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.

"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"

Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."

He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."

Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.

 "Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."

Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."

"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."

With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.

Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.

Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap." 

And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing. 

"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."

Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."

The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?

Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.

And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.

At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained. 

On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.

"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar. 

The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.

The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.

At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.

The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.

"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.

Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."

Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.

For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.

At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.

There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.

"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat. 

They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."

A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.

Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves. 

As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.

In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.

Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"

Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.

Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.

Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.

"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."

Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

While on Y/N's end...

"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.

"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."

Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...

"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."

That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.

***

Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.

The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.

"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.

The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.

As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators. 

The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.

Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.

"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."

A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.

***

Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.

"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.

Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."

"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.

A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.

"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."

"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.

Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.

"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"

"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.

"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."

Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.

"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.

That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.

"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.

"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.  

A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.  

"Why?"

Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"

"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"

Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.

"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo. 

He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"

"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.

A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.

After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"

Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.  

"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"

She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."

Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.

"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."

She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"

The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.

Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.

"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.

"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."

Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.

"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?

Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.

"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.

"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.

"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."

A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.

They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.

"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.

Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more.  It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.

"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."

Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.

Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away...  "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"

Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.

"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"

Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.

"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.

The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.

She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld  @chesthairrry  @harryhitties @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs   @hisparentsgallerryy   @storyschanging  @selluequestrian   @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777