#i would have gotten a gift from niall

[buckistheman]

NIALL FINALLY

[sushirrrry]

PART OF US - PART ONE.

a harry styles x original character, 4-part short-story. themes: dadrry, lhh, coming of age, contemporary romance set in NYC. CW: explicit sex, language, & conversations surrounding mental health. 20.4k words. follow me on twitter @/sadprose_em & wattpad @/sushirrrry for notifications. enjoy <3

Spring.

In a moment of panic, Sofia stopped.

"Fuck," Sofia dug into the contents of the small purse on her arm, knowing that she wasn't going to find anything deeper in the tiny clutch, no matter how hard she tried. "I forgot my phone."

Nat looked at her friend with an annoyed face as they approached the entrance to the bar, her feet slowing down to a a few steps before stopping completely.

"You're kidding me." Nat said, a grunt following, watching as Sofia searched through the small clutch that was quite obviously not holding the device, but merely a lipstick or two.

It wasn't there, but Sofia didn't want to have to go all the way back to her apartment for it if she didn't have to. Her eyes looked up at her friend who rolled her eyes right back.

"I'm sorry, Nat– we don't have to go back. It's fine, just make sure to keep an eye on me, please? I don't want to get stolen."

Nat grabbed Sofia's arm before linking them together as they walked through the doors of the building, almost just the answer that Sofia was looking for. The sound of their heels clicked together against the cement in a beautiful harmony– the girl's night out kind of harmony.

"You look incredible tonight so I would take it as a compliment, personally."

The martini bar where they would be meeting Nat's friend and coworker– who Sofia knew to be passionate about the espresso martinis in the city– Niall, was going to meet them on the rooftop bar.

Sofia had only decided to go because this wasn't just a one-on-one meeting with Nat and Niall, but a bunch of other people from Nat's office would be there, as well. Nat had asked if Sofia could tag along, which meant that Sofia was now dressed in some knee-high boots and a black mini skirt that fit like a glove.

Sofia was feisty but introverted; she knew what she wanted and would talk back to those who questioned her. She was excited to meet this friend of Nat's knowing she had talked about him in quite a bright light– even more so because she knew that this could benefit her, too.

"Remember, Niall's bringing that friend of his," She raised her eyes at Sofia, "From what I hear around the office, it's a friend that's quite easy on the eyes. Apparently, his presence at the Christmas party was way better than the shitty gifts our office tried to pawn off too."

Even in her best feeling, highest confidence moments, self-doubt trickled into the conversation.

"So, why do you think he'd even be interested in me? There's going to be so many more people there," Sofia asked. "Plus, how do you know he's my type?"

"I don't know what his type is," Nat looked at her friend as they stepped into the elevator, "But I can't imagine that you wouldn't be, even for a night."

Sofia pulled at the hem of her skirt, but Nat pulled her friend's hand away before giving her that look. The one that Sofia got quite often– it was a look of not just overthinking, but over analyzing any particular scenario that may arise. The elevator they had gotten into stopped on the top floor, the subtle noise of the bar ringing out as they walked along, and back outside.

Subtle breezes of the spring were feeling quite warm as the girls had been wearing skirts. Sofia's being a solid black, a long-sleeve blouse and leather jacket on top. She wore it with her favorite black boots that gave her a bit of height. Her dark hair cascades down her back; dark leather and dark, shiny hair that sparkles when the night light hits it.

The Brooklyn bar was one of Nat's favorites, she had been talking about going out all week. It wasn't that she was trying to get Sofia out of her comfort zone, but she knew that there wasn't anything to lose.

It was about taking chances.

She knew her friend was a good person– she had a sense of humor that not everyone understood but was appreciated by everyone, she had thoughts that bordered every side, and the empathy that she held was something that only a few people could ever relate to.

Nat felt that Sofia was special; Sofia felt she was misunderstood. When Nat had talked about Sofia in the office, Niall had seemingly believed that he had a friend that was quite the same. It was like shooting two stars had both been spotted in the same part of the galaxy.

This wasn't a set-up, if Nat was going to be asked. Instead, it was a coworker get-together that just happened to have eyes and hearts on a particular two. But as she tucked Sofia's hair behind her ears, and handed her a lip gloss for a touch-up, she knew exactly what she was getting her friend into.

"Oh, over there!" Nat had spotted her loudest friend, surrounded by a few others who were laughing at a joke they must've missed. Sofia had a tight smile on her face as they approached the small group; she didn't like meeting new people because she never knew how to start conversations, she just knew how to finish them and walk away.

Nat and Sofia were still linked in their elbows as they approached, Niall immediately noticing the two girls.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, the cocktail– as espresso martini, obviously– was icy in his hands as he gave a soft grin to them. "There you are."

"Here we are," Nat suggested, her eyes moving to the man a step behind Niall at the bar. He was facing the bartender as he seemed to be chatting the guy up, asking for specifics in the cocktail he ordered. He held the small toothpick with an olive in his fingers, twirling it around the glass.

Sofia had noticed him, but her eyes hadn't allowed her to stare too long at his side profile. Even if maybe she wanted to.

"Guys, this is my best friend– this is Sofia, I've talked about her plenty, you all probably know her life story" Nat giggled, before turning to introduce her coworkers, "Fia, this is Niall, Dana, Marie, and–" Her eyes landed on Niall's friend who had joined the conversation with a fresh martini held in his fingers. The way that his hands spread across the glass made Sofia's heart beat quicker than usual, almost skipping a few.

Niall looked back at his friend before introducing, "Sorry, this is my mate, Harry. We went to college together. He just moved to the city a few months back."

Nat bit her lip, Sofia couldn't keep her eyes on him as she felt the blush by just looking at the way his lips molded around the glass as he took a generous sip, before swallowing and nodding.

"Lovely to meet you." The deep voice of the man surprises them.

Sofia is taken by him, their eyes meeting immediately as she watches him shyly smile in her direction. It's a moment where Sofia feels eyes on her as if this was supposed to be more than it was– as if their connection was meant to be electrifying at first glance.

And she wasn't going to deny that there was an electric field that almost made her skin crawl with desire... but she wouldn't admit that.

"Great to meet you," Nat stuck her hand out and he graciously took it with a smile. "Where are you in the city?"

"I actually live around the corner," Harry tells her, his sharp accent is soft but bold– like a dark roasted coffee with cream, "I've been here about six months so I'm starting to really get used to it. Americans are kind of– no offense– bloody rude."

"America is built on colonialism, so I think rudeness is a bit inherent." Sofia stated; it was the quick wit that Nat knew. Her shyness came from within whenever she was able to get a word in, which made Nat smile at her friend's attempt.

Niall made an audible oof sound, holding onto his chest as if hurt by the comment. But Harry just tilted his head as he glared at her with the most subtle grin.

"I'm going to get a drink," Nat interrupted, looking at Niall and their other coworkers as Niall turned to follow her to the bar. Sofia felt her friend leave her side, leaving her standing there as she looked around the rooftop.

The only person standing still was Harry, who had already received his drink and was standing a bit closer to her now, possibly wanting to offer more conversation.

"Are you from here?" Harry offered, taking another small sip from the wide-rimmed glass.

"Uh, no," Sofia shook her head, "I'm originally from France. People think it's a speech impediment, but it's just because my dad refused to speak English at home, so I wasn't really able to practice it a lot, and it left me unable to pronounce my R's well."

Her long dark hair and soft features were gifts from her mother who grew up in Beijing, moving to France when she was eighteen– her father was French and Italian, which left her being a mutt of sorts. It was a mixture of culture and a radiance of knowledge that left her traveling the world at a young age to visit family here and there, but also experiencing everywhere below the surface level.

"Je connais un peu de français," Harry smiles before pinching his fingers together, "juste un peu."

Sofia's eyes lit up, giving her a small smile before she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"I got you this," Nat handed her the orange cocktail that had a small straw, before Sofia handed it back.

"I'm not drinking– I didn't bring my phone, so I don't want something to happen." She shook her head, watching as Nat moved her eyes between her and Harry both.

Nat looked up at Harry with a smile Sofia knew was laced with her own intentions, before handing the drink to him, "Maybe she'll take it if you offer it to her, then."

Harry's brows raised as he held the drink between his fingers, feeling the coldness before he watched Nat walk back through the bar. With the subtle movement, her friend had disappeared once again.

It left the two standing there alone again, which Sofia felt more of the pressure of the set-up currently occurring between the two of them. She wondered how much of this Harry had known, and how much he had been fooled too. The man in front of her was attending, though. He seemed quite intrigued with her, not trying to force his way out of a conversation just because it was a bit uncomfortable.

Harry's lip curled a bit, the smirk on his face becoming a bit more of a blush as he extended his arm to offer the drink back to her as her friend had suggested.

"So, would you like this drink, then?" He bit his lip, hoping that she would at least take this one from him. Her hand steadily took the drink from his fingers as she sheepishly shook her head.

"Sorry about all of them." Sofia muttered out, taking a sip of the cocktail.

When her eyes raised back to him, she noticed that he had been looking at her with an admiration that she wasn't entirely sure she had felt before. It was an honesty, like he had never told a lie, and would never think to.

For the first time in a while, Sofia felt seen– like he had really been taken with her. She stood with her hand wrapped around her drink, looking around at the scenery that surrounded them.

"So, you're French?" Harry licked his lips, his hand moved into his front pocket, the dark pants were fitting him snug, "You grew up there?"

"Oui," Sofia clicked her tongue, "Um, yes and no. We spent half the year in Boston and half in Nice. My dad was a banker, and he did a lot of work overseas. But we traveled with him to stay as a family. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, and she kept my brother and I. During the holiday, we would travel to see my mother's family who still lived in China. We were always on a plane, it felt like."

Harry nodded, listening actively to the story she told of her upbringing. She didn't know why she kept speaking so much, but feeling that he was actively listening made it feel upwardly special and like he didn't have anywhere else to be or anyone else to listen to.

"My last name is Treaveau." She offered him another small detail of her background. It may have also been a small detail that he could keep in his brain for trying to track her down later.

He wasn't looking for an out this time. That felt unusual to him, as he settled on the doe-like eyes mesmerizing him.

"That sounds like a lot. But really incredible." He told her, his words having weight to them like he truly believed that it was incredible. "What brings you to New York, then?"

Sofia took a deep breath as she feels like maybe this isn't the right time to have that discussion. Rather, she wants to keep the conversation as far away from Kendall as possible. But, it was her life story and the parts that she didn't want to discuss were seemingly always there.

But, she decides to just answer it without any further explanation: "I moved here with a partner after college and it just became home. Settled some roots here– my job, friends." With a quick nod, she took another sip to stop her from speaking any more on the topic.

Harry hummed, "I see." He shifted on his weight as he noticed the conversation that looked like it stopped as Sofia's body language pointed out that she was uncomfortable with that question, and, more fittingly, that answer.

He knew that from his interviewing he did, watching as the person in front of him started to redirect their body language or try to look away from him as if that would take the situation away. He knew when asking questions and trying to get a response, body language told it all. If he had one talent, it was being able to read someone– read their facial expressions and the way they interacted with him about it.

Instead, Harry offered a different type of way to ease her nerves.

"Would you like a different drink, then?" Harry asked, his fingers wrapped around the wide mouth of his own martini glass. He could see her eyes flicker as she smiled up at him. "Doesn't seem like you wanted the one your friend gave you."

"Um," Fia answered, a soft giggle, "I think I'm okay. This is fine. Not my preference. Not even really a huge drinker, but when I do, this wouldn't be what I prefer."

Harry hummed, narrowing his brows as he bit on his lip in response to her declining his offer, so he dug a bit deeper into it.

"What do you like, then?" He asked.

She purses her lips, "Long walks on the beach. The offspring of a long island iced tea and a sex on the beach."

Harry felt the edge of his lip tilt up at her quick wit at the ridiculous joke. His blood rushes a bit quicker, before he nods.

"In my part of town, we call them 'sex on long island'," He quickly joked back, the dry humor making her roll her eyes.

Instead, he licked over his lips and tried to make more conversation around her now. "So, why are you here, at a martini bar, if you don't like to drink?" He took a sip of his own, the sweetness of the vodka coating his tongue, "I'm certain there's more fun things for you to do in Brooklyn on a Friday night."

The fact was: she really didn't know why she was there other than she had been convinced it could be fun.

As Nat had persuaded her out of her apartment, she thought of all of the things she could have been doing tonight.

Staying home and watching the new season of Great British Bake Off seemed enjoyable enough, but her extroverted friend pushed further for her to come meet this friend of a friend of a friend– however the connection was. And while she wasn't disappointed– far from it– she couldn't answer his questions without smiling. He pushed back on her attempts at bits of flirting, meeting her at her own game.

"I was told I'd have a good time." She felt herself try to hold back the smile, hoping to make him sweat a bit. But she knew she came off a bit strong; her humor and her lightness didn't mix too well. "Is that an alright answer?"

Harry used his tongue to lick over his bottom lip as he stared up at her with the greenest eyes she had seen. The curls that settled on his forehead were messy, but placed properly. They were quite long, around his neck and shoulders.

The silk of his green shirt under the black blazer seemed like it needed a criminal investigation on the salesperson who sold him it, the longer she stared at him. It was opened to reveal he had tattoos across his collarbone, but not open enough for her to make out the design.

"Sure. You're welcome to make your own choices," he tutted. "Just trying to understand you, that's all."

Sofia rolled her lips into her mouth before she turned to the bartender, asking for a Diet Coke with a hint of lime. Harry smiled at the request, eyes staying on her side profile. She took another sip of her freshly tipped-off drink before returning her eyes to him, sparkling and flirtatious. She noticed the way he paid attention, knowing he wasn't trying to leave.

When she ordered, he nodded towards the bartender, "Put that on my tab."

Sofia looked up at him, shaking her head, "No– really, Harry–"

"I'd like another one of these," Harry smiled at the bartender, pushing his empty martini glass towards them, "Shaken, chilled glass, and filthy."

Her eyes darted to him quickly, but she was ultimately caught. He had already been staring at her. The martini was poured into the chilled glass before Harry thanked the bartender again. He took a sip before they started to move back out of the way, towards a standing table towards the edge of the rooftop. It overlooked down onto the streets; Sofia blinked a few times as she noticed the height, taking herself away from it, and setting her glass on the small table.

There was a breeze; it pushed its way through Harry's long hair settling on his shoulders as he looked towards Manhattan and the skyline that was illuminating the city. Not a patch of darkness in sight.

There was silence– an odd silence, because she knew that there were many people around them, music was playing, the city was below them, but her eyes were fixed on his side profile and the way that he stood in front of her.

Her breath hitched a minute before she let the bold words fall from her mouth. "I-I'd like to talk more about myself over dinner. If you're interested in understanding me, that is. You can ask me, if you want."

When she replayed the words in her head, she wanted to eat them all back and take them out of existence. Not only did they sound completely outrageous, but she knew how egotistical they made her sound.

Harry only stared at her, but his smile kept steady.

"I should, shouldn't I?" His accent rang out as he poked his cheek with his tongue. Her stomach flipped when the dimple in his smile popped. "That's a good idea, Sofia. To ask you to dinner. Why hadn't I thought of that?"

She breathed through her nose with a chuckle, "I didn't mean to sound so-"

"Forward?" He finished her sentence before taking another sip of his drink. The olives bobbed in the glass, his eyes just over the rim. "Something tells me you like being forward, but I think you're being a bit shy with me."

Sofia blinked a few times before she held her shoulders back, pressing away from his conclusion of her. "Where would you take me?"

Harry shook his head with a cocky smile that added blush to her cheeks. "Definitely not a martini bar, I'll tell you that much. What do you like?"

"There's that question again," Fia rolled her eyes, jokingly, but she shrugged her shoulders with no pressure, "Nothing too fancy, I guess."

"I can take you to the best chippy on this side of the Atlantic– up in the Financial District," Harry bites his lip as he tries to chuckle but his teeth bare a smile, "I know the area pretty well– I work up there, actually."

"Will it impress me?" She asks, scrunching her nose a bit.

Harry chuckles but shakes his head, "Don't know– you're very hard to read, so I'm walking on eggshells here. I'm trying to impress you, if that makes a difference"

"You're doing well, I'll tell you that– the only bone I'm going to throw at you, though." Sofia tucks some hair behind her ear as she realizes how hard of a time she's giving him. She takes a small step forward so her hip pops a bit. "I'd love to go to fish and chips with you, but I don't eat fish."

"Course you don't," He shakes his head, "You're killing me, you know."

"We all die eventually, I don't think I'm exacerbating it." Her humor stuck as Harry tilted his head back. Her eyes fell to the way that his curls bounced as they fell back a bit at the motion.

"My goodness," Harry shook his head with that eager smirk, "You're really good at this. And I'd like you to recede your statement because I do think you're exacerbating it. I don't feel as young as I used to."

"Good at standing my ground? Or good at fighting off misogyny while our friends think that I'll just fall into your graces like the start of a silly romance book?"

Harry's dimple popped and Sofia drew in a breath when she noticed how it changed his face. It was such a soft feature that drew away so much animosity and an unrelieved tension that she felt between her thighs.

"I'm sorry– is this not the start of our story?" He questioned her now, watching as she sighed outwardly. "Maybe it's sexist for you to think that you should be the one falling for me– I think I'm the one clearly begging at your feet here."

She liked him. Oh, she really liked him.

She knew instantly that she wasn't the type to take him home, but he was certainly the type that she would make an exception for if he suggested anything. It was a classic question in her own brain; was he just as charming behind closed doors as he was standing there in an open bar with a few drinks already in him? That she wasn't sure about.

But what she did know was that she was slowly watching as his walls were broken with every word she said.

"Is that a line that gets a lot of girls?"

Harry took a moment to stare at her. She shifted her weight, now under his eyes moving between her own as she nibbled on her lip as she waited for an equally witty response.

"I'm very enamored by you, Sofia." He told her softly, curiosity oozing from him.

Sofia tilted her head a bit as she questioned him yet again.

"Enamored or infatuated?" She bit back, but her smile kept her fiercely attractive to him. The energy was just a plus.

"Infatuation would suggest that there's a short-lived passion. I don't believe our story is short-lived," The vodka may have spoken there, but the tint of his blush was illuminating him.

"Oh, is that so?" She teased, leaning against the table then. "What makes you say that?"

Her eyes met his as Harry took in a breath. She couldn't have imagined the man in front of her being any more civil, any more kind to her. He maintained eye contact, blushing as she teased. She hadn't a doubt that he could be like any of the others she had dated in this city.

Something about him felt genuine; it felt like he opened his heart further than she was used to, maybe. She wasn't too sure, because his exterior would suggest he was a bit rugged.

His shoulder length dark curls were tousled and gave her the impression that he hadn't done anything about a haircut on purpose, not for lack of resources. His clean jawline was maintained and structured. But he was dressed well– he knew that he looked good, but without effort which worried her.

But she could tell that he spoke from the heart.

Sofia had no doubt he could have fallen in love easily– could have easily been the love of someone's life. So, in her brain, she wondered what on earth could have been wrong with him. He played the game with her– a game that was usually pushed back on rarely. It was a simple game of cat-and-mouse that only one man in a blue moon would understand.

But Harry kept eye contact, wanting more from her than she had been willing at first.

His body leaned in closer to her, sniffling as he found his footing close enough that he had practically pushed her feet apart with his own so they could be face to face.

"In my mirrorball, I see you and I have the time of our lives and not settling for anything that tells us to stop. I'm a visionary– I'm going to put my cards on the table and let you know what I want." The scent of his cologne flourished around her nose, pushing into her memory.

Sofia stares at the man for a moment when he stops talking, recognizing they had just met, and their connection had created such fire that she was certain it would spread wild.

There was no way that it could've been burnt out then; she watched his eyes follow her, almost obsessed as he stood in front of her, leaning on the rooftop railing.

"You don't even know me, Harry," She shrugged, "And I don't even know your last name."

"That's very true," He finished the last drop of the martini, taking a bite of the olive as he let his smirk take over when he chewed.

"The greatest loves of all time started that way, didn't they, Sofia Treaveau? With a bit of mystery and adventure? Do you need to know my last name to truly fall in love?"

She licked her lips, the taste of vanilla from her lip gloss on her taste buds. She nodded, letting her eyes fall back to him as she noticed a strand of his shouldered locks falling around his cheek as the breeze flew across them.

Her heart burned; the wildfire was spreading at an enormous rate. She had wanted to keep her heart from that feeling, but how addicting it was made her knee knock with his as they stood close.

"Then, I accept," She bites her lip, "I'll be ready tomorrow by seven. No later, or I'll keep the door locked."

Harry tried his best to keep his smile demure, but he knew that the heat of his skin had to be felt by her– the way his heart thumped was that one of a thousand earthquakes.

"I'll be outside your door at six fifty-eight, waiting to take you up the green line like every beautiful woman deserves." He raises his brows with a smirk. "Last week, I saw a rat the size of a raccoon."

Sofia hummed soft before she broke out in a few chuckles. "Wow, I cannot wait to see that– who said romance was dead?"

Harry shook his head with a large smile as he let his eyes soften to the way he looked at her. Sofia seemed the type he'd want to wake up in the morning to see; the type who were kind and subtle at first but open with large thoughts when you were able to chip past the exterior.

"How about I cook you dinner instead? I can come pick you up, we can go to the corner store, and I'll take you back to mine. It's a small place, but I think it may be a bit more..." He trailed off, trying to find the word, "A bit more intimate. And cheaper."

She smirked, looking at the way that his arm rested along the railing before she reached out to brush her hand against his, "So, I'm not worth a fifty dollar seafood platter, then?"

Harry shook his head, "Not if you're going to waste it."

Sofia bit her lip, smiling as she nodded her head. "I think that's a date, then."

Harry took a smaller step closer. "First time you actually said yes to me."

"Don't expect anymore tonight. I don't say yes unless I mean it." She tells him, sipping her coke.

An image quickly runs through his mind as he takes a solid breath in, but he blinks a few times to make sure it leaves so he doesn't get caught. He bit the inside of his cheek to feel some pain to try to get his kind off of how else he could get her to say yes.

Over and over and over–

"So, tomorrow at seven?" She interrupted his thoughts, his eyes meeting hers again.

"I told you," He smirked, "Six fifty-eight. And don't be late coming to the door, either."

Sofia exhaled, knowing the smile hadn't left her lips all evening. It was almost painful at that point; her cheeks hurt and she was a bit worried the blush would be permanent. It was a feeling she knew wouldn't last, but she looked forward to her cheeks hurting just a bit in the morning.

She nodded, "It's a date."

Harry rolled his lips into his mouth before he turned towards the city. He leaned against the railing, staring into the abyss of the lights. He breathed in, heavy, before humming out. Sofia did as he did, standing next to him. She leaned against the railing before tucking some hair behind her ear; the spring breeze gave her a bit of a chill.

"What if I'm a bit impatient?" He said suddenly, pushing away as he held onto the glass railing in front of him.

Sofia turned her head towards him, before she felt his hand on her wrist to request her attention. It was the easiest she had ever been to convince when he led her towards the bar. Their hands fell into place as he requested to pay for the bill, taking his card back.

"Where are we going?" Sofia said, a bit of uncertainty in her voice as she looked around. She didn't want to leave her friend without a bit of a notice– she had no way to get in contact with her.

Harry turned his head up after he signed the receipt, dropping the pen.

"We're leaving," He said, without effort, before taking her hand once again. He hadn't recalled that he had dropped it, but he had missed it. "I know a spot that'll be a bit more... private."

"I can't just leave," Sofia explained, chuckling with a bit of disbelief that he was leading her away, "I have to– I mean, I came with Nat."

Harry turned his head to look around, trying to see if he could find the group that had left them alone. He knew that they had to have been spying on them from another part of the rooftop, but he wasn't able to spot them.

"It doesn't seem that they're around, maybe they left. We'll be back. I'll get you home then you can text her." Harry promised, trying his best to get her to leave with him. He was ready to get out of the atmosphere and move onto seeing something else. He wanted to explore, walk the streets with her.

"Yeah, but," Sofia swallowed, turning her head to try and lay eyes on Nat, just to give her an update. It felt wrong to walk away with someone she barely knew– a bit irresponsible, really. A man, nonetheless. She hadn't felt uncomfortable in the slightest, but she was trying to protect herself.

Harry dug his hands into the front pockets of his pants, standing in front of her, waiting for her to come to a conclusion. His hand moved to her shoulder, giving a soft physical connection before he studied her.

"You can blame me. I take full blame if she freaks out on you." His voice was calm, but it was highlighted with desperation to get her to leave with him– to flee into another world, unknown.

He liked the unknown, which worked in his favor most of the time; it was something that was unagreeable in most of his life. His father would hate when Harry said he hadn't planned for that to happen, or that he hadn't thought of that before. It was just how his mind processed things– and being able to live a life where he didn't have to think about it made Harry feel more inclined to do that behavior out of a rebellion.

Stability was never something Harry needed to feel like he had been doing something right. Most of the time, he looked for spontaneity to keep his mind racing, finding people who were there for a season rather than the long haul. It kept his mind fresh.

"We don't–" Harry started, thinking that this would be how he left her that night. He would leave, telling Niall that it hadn't worked out.

Sofia interrupted, "No, let's."

He stared at her for a moment, looking around before he felt her take his hand that time. She placed her fingers between him, holding them firmly.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked her, looking around at the crowd.

It hadn't occurred to him that he really hadn't seen Niall or any of Niall's friends for a bit, which made him a bit leary that they had moved onto a new spot without them anyways. It would figure as such, because he had known that Niall was going to set him up like this from the moment he had mentioned the words 'and this girl is coming'.

Harry didn't do much dating– it hadn't interested him. Talking and getting to know people was the most extent that he went through, which was fine to him. If he ever brought a girl home, it was always going to be for her best interest. Maybe she was going to try and get home but was alone and too drunk– half the time Harry just took her home so she'd be somewhere safe.

But there was a light about Sofia that allowed his mind to wander about the possibilities of what it would be like if she was around– in his space, in his aura.

There was a great deal of satisfaction and happy wonder that came with those thoughts.

Sofia had breathed out, pulling his hand closer to her as they started to walk towards the elevator on the way down. When it dinged, the two of them stepped into the small space to head back down onto the streets.

The vibrant hum of the city greeted them when they made their way back out of the tall building—distant cars rushing by, the occasional burst of laughter from late-night revelers, and the soft rustle of trees stirred by a gentle breeze. The air was cool, carrying with it the smell of distant rain and the earthy scent of summer that felt so far away. Sofia inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, feeling the weight of the crowded rooftop bar lifting from her shoulders.

The streets weren't deserted, but they were limited to the night dwellers now; the amount of bars around this particular area were sparse.

Harry walked beside her, his hands tucked into his pockets now that they had released their hands from one another, a relaxed smile playing on his lips.

"See? Isn't this better?" he asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Their pace had a slow marvel to it, the sound of her clicking heels echoed through the narrow sidewalks.

She looked over, a small smile forming. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you were right."

They wandered through the streets in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps keeping time with the quiet energy of the city around them. Every now and then, Sofia would catch Harry glancing over at her, but he didn't push the conversation especially when they both seemed to find a bit of satisfaction in the quietness.

He seemed content just to be walking, taking it all in. It was something she liked about him—his ability to be present without needing to fill the silence.

After a few blocks, neither of them had made a solid suggestion on where to go or where they had been heading, they found themselves in front of a small park nestled between two buildings. It was a quiet spot, they had noticed that a person was walking their dog, with a few benches and a street light casting a warm glow over the cobblestone path into the small corridor.

Harry stopped, gesturing toward one of the black, metal benches. "Want to just sit for a minute?"

Sofia nodded, and they sat down side by side, the city stretching out before them but feeling a world away from the noise and lights of the rooftop bar. She leaned back against the bench, her body relaxing further with each breath.

"Tell me something," Harry said, breaking the silence, his voice soft but curious.

She turned to look at him. "Like what?"

"Something you don't normally share," he replied, his tone easy but genuine. "Something about you."

Sofia raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her face. "Why do I feel like this is one of those questions that ends with you telling me something poetic?"

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'll tell you something poetic, sure. But you first."

She considered it for a moment, unsure where to begin or what she could say to this stranger sitting next to her that had a lingering smell of vanilla and tobacco. It wasn't often that someone asked her to share something real, something beyond the surface-level conversations she usually had with people.

With Harry, though, it felt... safe. His attention to her never dwindled, it never made her feel stared at or under a microscope. It made her feel... looked after. Listened to.

She fidgeted with her fingers for a minute before she took in a deep breath, trying to imagine what she could say to him in this moment that would ultimately feel worthwhile. Something that would allow their time together to be meaningful. The sound of the leaves in the night breeze took her focus for a moment.

"I guess... I don't always feel very confident and comfortable," she said after a pause. "Like, I put on this front—smiling, laughing, having fun," She looks at her hands in her lap, "Going to martini bars with my friend when I really just wanted to stay home and watch Great British Bake Off. But sometimes, it's not really how I feel. Sometimes I'm just... faking it to make it easier for myself." She glanced away, surprised at her own honesty, but she felt a weight lift as soon as she said the words.

Harry didn't respond right away, just nodded slowly, taking in what she'd said. "I get that," he said after a beat. "It's hard to let people in, isn't it? To show them the stuff beneath the surface."

She met his eyes again, a quiet understanding passing between them. "Yeah," she murmured. "I guess it is."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the space between them.

Then Harry shifted to make it so he was turned towards her a little more, his eyes searching hers, his voice softening. "You know, I probably would have chosen Great British Bake Off, too." He bites his lip with an urgent smirk trying not to overpower him, "But I could take you to get a box of biscuits and it might give you the same feeling."

Sofia's breath caught slightly at his words, at the sincerity in his voice but the same goofiness she was trying to stop herself from blushing at. It was as if he could see right through the mask she wore, and yet, instead of being afraid or pushing her away, he seemed to lean in closer, making her feel comfortable.

"Okay, well, now it's your turn," she said, her voice light but her heart racing a little from the vulnerability hanging in the air.

Harry smiled, looking down for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. He clicked his tongue, analyzing what was behind his brain. When he spoke again, his voice was low and thoughtful.

"Alright. Here's something... I guess I've always had this thing about time. I feel like I'm always trying to make the most of it, like it's slipping away too fast. Maybe that's why I wanted to leave the bar earlier. I hate wasting time and just standing around, especially when I feel like there's something more out there, something better. I don't want to miss out on it."

Sofia watched him, feeling a sense of quiet understanding settle between them. "That's why you wanted to leave," she repeated, the words soft as they fell from her lips.

Harry nodded, his gaze steady on hers. "Yeah. And," He shrugged, "Because I wanted to be with you. Just... you."

Her heart did a small, unexpected flip at his words, the weight of them settling deep within her. There was no pretense with Harry, no games or lines. Just truth. And it made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time—safe, but also seen.

She smiled, a small but genuine smile, and leaned back against the bench. "I'm glad we left," She told him, "And that was very poetic."

"Me too." Harry said, his voice quiet but filled with meaning, "And I thought you'd like that."

He took in a breath as he watched her pull her jacket around her middle. It was a bit colder than he expected it to be, thankful that he had brought the blazer too. Harry chewed on his lip for a moment, pushing the hair from his face.

"You hungry?" Harry asked, noticing the way she hugged herself against the breeze. It may have been a way to get her out of the air, too. "There's a bodega down there. Best late-night snack spot in the neighborhood."

Sofia chuckled. "I guess I'm a little hungry, sure, but I don't trust bodegas unless it's the guy at the end of my block."

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it," he said with a grin. "They have the best sandwiches in the city. And I think I need something to balance all the vodka and olive juice currently swimming around in my system."

She smirked, the idea suddenly sounding perfect. "Alright, then, lead the way to the best sandwich in the city," She stood up, following in his lead, "I don't think the best sandwich is in Williamsburg, but I will try and trust you."

"Have I been wrong at any time tonight?" Harry asked, shoving his hands into his pocket again.

Sofia thought for a moment, shaking her head, "Guess not. But there's still time."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully before knocking his shoulder against hers. "So, you're saying you're ready for a full night, then? It's only," He looked at the watch on his wrist, "Watch says eleven-thirty, but I think I could fill our time for the next six hours, at least."

"The longer I'm around you, the more time I have to search for when you're wrong." She pointed out, her hands in her jacket pocket. "So I would be very careful with your time with me."

Harry hummed, "Well, that's too bad," He shook his head, "I was looking forward to spending time with you. I'm having a good time."

Sofia felt her heart flutter a skip as she tried her best not to turn her head to meet his eyes. She knew if she would, she wouldn't be able to contain herself– holding back the smirk was just enough.

"I am too." She agreed, giving him the comfort and satisfaction she would have needed, too.

They continued walking, the glow of the bodega's neon Open 24 Hours sign drawing them in like a beacon– only the 4 had been burnt out; Harry pointed it out with a chuckle. The place was small and cramped, with shelves stocked high with every kind of snack imaginable, and the smell of deli meat and fresh bread filled the air.

A New York specialty.

"This is very classy," Sofia teased as they stepped inside, the pointed-toe boots clicking against the dirty tile, the bell above the door jingling softly.

Harry shot her a look of mock indignation. "Just wait. You'll see," He pushed the hair from his eyes, "The Queen of England recommended this place to me, actually. So I'd be careful with your mocking tone."

"Was this her last meal?" Sofia joked, which made small crinkles by Harry's eyes as he felt himself laugh quite hard at her dry humor.

He licked his lips, "Yes, actually. The Philly cheesesteak was her dying wish."

"Are we sure it's not what," Sofia whispered, pretending to cut her neck in an attempt to mimic out what she meant. "You know, offed her."

Harry's eyes widened, "That hasn't been disclosed, but I think you may be onto something."

He led her to the counter, where an older man with a thick mustache and equally thick accent greeted them.

"Hey, Pauly," Harry greeted the man, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked at the menu that very well could have been a novel with the amount of writing that was on it. He squinted, trying to read it as Sofia tried her best not to be overwhelmed with the options.

"Late night?" The man asked, eyeing them with the knowing look of someone used to night owls wandering in after hours.

"The only kind of night I have." Harry replied, already scanning the menu board hanging overhead. "Can we get two of the specials, extra pickles on both, with tiger sauce and chips on top– well, fries, I guess."

Sofia raised an eyebrow at his order combo, biting her lip at the crazy menu item.

"You'll thank me later," Harry said, flashing her a grin before a thought popped into his head which erased the smile, "You're not vegan, are you?"

Sofia shook her head with a laugh, "No– no, I'm not. This may turn me vegan, though."

As the man prepared their sandwiches, they wandered down one of the narrow aisles, picking out a couple of drinks– Harry went with an Arnold Palmer, Sofia got a ginger ale out of the fridge that had burnt out lights. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a soft, familiar glow over everything. It felt almost like a private moment, even though the world around them carried on.

When the sandwiches were ready, Harry paid for their meal and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter to go along with the meal. He thanked Paul generously before he led the way and pushed out of the small store with a brown paper bag in his hands. The lights of the streets were dim; the roads were slow and calm.

The night had grown even quieter, with only the distant sounds of the city lingering in the air. Harry had moved a few feet down, settling himself on a front stoop before Sofia watched him with surprise.

"We're just going to sit here?" She asked him, looking up at the door, knowing that this was someone's home. "I think this is considered loitering."

"Is that an issue?" He asked, pulling a sandwich out wrapped in foil, and handing it over to her. "We're just eating quickly, I'm starving," He scooted over a bit on the stoop, "You can sit."

Sofia felt a burning sensation in her chest when their shoulders touched; there was an electric force that ran through her body as they touched. She took the sandwich from his hands, opening it and noticing the mess that was about to ensue.

When she turned to Harry, he had already taken a bit before throwing his head back in a pleasurable sensation, "Fuck, that's good. So needed."

Sofia felt her cheeks turn hot at his reaction, not wanting to comment further on it because she was afraid of what would happen if he caught her staring at him. Instead, she unwrapped her own sandwich, tucking her hair behind her ears to get it out of her face before she took a bite of her own.

It was truly one of the best sandwiches she'd ever had in her life– she could feel the way that Harry stared at her as she tried to interpret her thoughts, nodding a bit as she covered her mouth.

"Okay, I'll admit it," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke between bites. "This is really good."

"Told you," Harry replied, taking a bite of his own. "You've got to trust me on these things."

There was the silence, again. She felt it as they sat and ate their meal, shoulder to shoulder. Harry ate his rather fast, crumbling up the foil and the paper before he wiped his hands with a napkin and threw it all back into the brown paper bag. Sofia finished hers up too; he took her trash from her without asking, before throwing it in the house's garbage can closest to them.

"I should be getting home soon," Sofia told him quietly as they sat on the stoop.

She watched Harry digging into his blazer pocket and pulling out the cigarettes and lighter he had just purchased at the bodega. His hands slipped a cigarette out of the container before he lit it and took a drag.

"I can help you get you there," Harry told her softly, "I'll follow your lead, then."

They meandered slowly toward Sofia's apartment, the food warming them from the inside out as they found themselves in a slower pace than even previously before. Sofia had never taken the time to study the streets, the trees and the neighborhood around her. There was something so simple and intimate about it—walking together in the quiet of the city, sharing bites of their sandwiches and laughing about little things, the world around them fading into the background.

Harry cracked a few jokes, asking her simple questions about what she did for work and what she thought about climate change. He asked her about her life and her family's ties to Asia and she told him about how her favorite animal was a frog and she thought they were misunderstood.

As they turned onto her street, Sofia slowed her pace, feeling a mix of contentment and something else—something she couldn't quite name. Her apartment was just a few steps away now, but she wasn't ready for the night to end even just hours before she wanted it to be over as soon as it had started.

"This is me," she said softly as they reached the front of her building, a modest but charming old brownstone nestled between two larger apartment complexes. It had a couple of steps before it led into a few cut apartments.

Harry stopped beside her, his eyes lingering on the building for a moment before returning to her. "Nice place."

"Yeah, it's home," she said, smiling as she looked up at the familiar windows. She pulled the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she awkwardly moved to stand in front of Harry. He was taller than her, his hair hanging on his shoulders as he stared up at the building. His hands were pressed into his pockets as he stood with a careless nature about him.

But then Harry seemed to hesitate, his expression shifting slightly, like he was trying to read the air between them. He stepped a little closer, his voice soft and steady. "I don't know about you, but I had a great time tonight."

Sofia felt a warmth spread through her at his words, the sincerity in them making her heart beat a little faster. "Me too," she said quietly, meeting his gaze. "I'm glad we left the bar."

He smiled, a small, almost knowing smile. "Yeah," He bit his lip, "Me too."

The silence between them stretched, comfortable but charged, as if the night had been building up to this quiet moment. Sofia found herself standing a little closer to him, their bodies just inches apart now, the space between them humming with unspoken possibilities.

Harry broke the silence first, his voice a little lower now. "So, are we still on for tomorrow, then?"

Sofia's smile lingered as she looked up at him, her chest tightening in the best way possible. "Maybe," she teased lightly. "Depends if you can find something better than those sandwiches."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but there was something softer in his eyes now, something more serious beneath the humor. He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "I'll take my chances."

For a brief moment, neither of them moved, the world around them completely still. Sofia could feel her pulse quickening, the space between them almost nonexistent now. It felt like they were the only two in the world now– silence around them, no cars on the streets, no people on the sidewalks.

Until a few raindrops hit her nose softly; her focus was taken from him, looking up at the sky as she noticed that it had started to rain, raindrops falling above them in an early spring shower.

And then, before she could second-guess herself, Sofia stood on her tiptoes and kissed him—just a light, fleeting kiss, the kind that hinted at something more but was gentle and sweet for what it was. When she pulled back, Harry's eyes were still closed for a second, his lips curved into a surprised but satisfied smile.

"Well," he said softly, opening his eyes and looking down at her with that familiar spark of mischief, "that was unexpected."

Sofia grinned, feeling a little breathless. "Guess you should start expecting the unexpected."

Harry laughed, his voice warm and full of something Sofia couldn't quite place but liked all the same. "I'm starting to get that."

They stood there for a moment longer, the quiet settling back in around them. Then Sofia took a step back, before she took hold of the railing up the steps and towards the door to her building, "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Sofia," he said, still smiling as she slipped inside.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Sofia leaned against it for a moment, her heart still racing from the kiss, from the way the night had unfolded so unexpectedly. She couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop thinking about Harry and the way he'd made everything feel... easy. She hadn't felt that way in some time.

She hadn't felt security like that in a person in quite a while.

After Sofia had walked through the door, Harry had come to the conclusion that he hadn't even asked the simple question of getting her phone number. He raced up the steps, taking two at a time, before knocking on the door that had simply locked behind her. Sofia's attention grabbed as she looked at him through the glass of the front door that sat between them.

When she went to open it, she was hesitant about what he could have been wanting.

"Need something so soon?" She joked.

"Yeah," He grabbed his phone before handing it in her direction, "I realized I didn't get your number– figure maybe, I don't know– like it feels like we had a good time and maybe I'll text you in the morning."

There was a sense of nervousness that Sofia had felt from the interaction, almost like now that he was standing in front of her he was a bit embarrassed by the urgency that he had felt to knock back on the door when he would be back here in less than 24 hours.

She blinked a few times before she shook her head, "I'm– I'm sorry, I don't just give my number out," It was a rule she had put in place for herself because she knew how many times she sat around wondering when someone would text her. It was a part of her confidence that she didn't want to ruin, especially with the way she was feeling about Harry now.

Digging into her purse, she found a lip liner that was a dark shade of brown before handing it to him. Harry took it with a bit of confusion before Sofia pulled her jacket off of her shoulders to expose her forearm.

"You can write yours down, though," She offered, watching as he held the pencil in his hands. His fingers slipped around the small item, pulling off the cap before writing the 10-digits on her forearm. A small 'x' followed after it before he topped the pencil with the cap and handed it back to her.

"You have to promise to text me," He smirked, "Because I don't know that I can live with the embarrassment, if I'm honest."

Sofia held the jacket on her arm, trying to make sure that it dried down, not smudging.

"I know how it feels to be embarrassed like that– so you have nothing to worry about." Her voice was soft as she stared at him, looking at the way that he held himself between the door and the frame.

"Great," He nodded, feeling excited by her sincerity, "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight." Sofia said again, a soft tone in her voice as she watched Harry shut the door behind himself. Her breathing became far more rapid as she was able to let go of the breath she felt like her chest had been holding.

And as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she knew this wasn't the end of the night– her brain was far too engulfed in the events of the night for her to fall asleep now. It felt more like the beginning of something new. Something she hadn't quite been expecting—but now, couldn't wait to see unfold.

Spring had a way of creeping in unnoticed, a quiet promise beneath the chill of lingering winter air. Just like the way Harry had slipped into Sofia's life—unexpected, but inevitable, like the first bloom pushing through thawing ground. Their meeting felt like the start of something new, the kind of newness that hummed beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to emerge, to be felt in full.

The city around them mirrored the changing season, shaking off its cold, gray layers and coming to life again. Streets that had been barren now buzzed with the energy of renewal, of second chances.

And in the same way that spring awakens the world with its subtle touch, Sofia found herself waking up to something she hadn't realized she was missing. With every conversation, every shared glance, Harry became like the warmth of the sun after a long winter—steady, inevitable, drawing her out of the quiet hibernation of her own guarded heart.

The warmth of the sunshine was a gift to her cold, unwilling heart.

As she made her way to her room, she passed by Nat's room, seeing that the door was open and the light was on. The clicking of her heels would give her away immediately– and did, as Nat ran towards the doorway. The smile on her face told her everything she needed to know.

"Tell me everything." Nat demanded, but Sofia just shook her head, making her way past her door and into her own bedroom. Not a word more; keeping it to herself felt like the only way to make sure that it had been real.

As she laid back on her bed, the smile never faltered. Her heart never stopped beating at the highest rate– she felt she could become sick with every thought of him. The way he smelled, the way his green eyes shone in the dim streetlights, the way he walked, talked, pondered through his way of life.

The forgotten phone had been laying on her small vanity; she grabbed it, putting his number in quickly before writing out a small message– a photo of her arm included.

Sofia: Guess who?

Only a few seconds went by; he had been waiting for her number to pop-up. Harry had settled himself on the curb only a block away, waiting to see if he would hear from her. When the message from the unknown number came up, he couldn't believe it.

It made him smile, made his fingers shake with anticipation as he lit another cigarette.

Harry: I know it can't be Your Majesty, the Queen. She died eating a bodega cheesesteak. RIP.

Harry: I hope it's someone named Sophia.

Sofia rolled her eyes, but felt the satisfaction laying deep within her.

Sofia: Ooof. Minus 3 points. I spell it with an F. Sofia.

Harry: God fucking damnit. Of course you do.

He drug the smoke of the cigarette, watching as her message came up. When it did, he stared at it, wanting so badly for the night to replay over and over and over again. It was an inevitable feeling that he hadn't truly felt in a long time.

Sofia: Looks like I end the night with you finally being wrong... victory is so sweet.

Sofia: Goodnight :)

___________

Harry hadn't felt the way he felt at the moment in quite some time. It had been a while since there was a pep in his step rather than a drag of his feet. It felt good to be able to look forward to something, and he had been looking forward to this since he shut the door behind him at Sofia's apartment last night.

He looked forward to being able to see her again. Even in that one night, he had felt that there was an immediate connection. Some may call him crazy– but being a hopeless romantic did that sort of thing. It enabled you to make decisions and think about the future in a way that didn't make any sense.

The walk to her apartment, from what he had gathered using his phone map, was quite close to where his apartment was settled now. They both lived in Brooklyn, which made getting to her a lot easier. He wasn't sure if she lived alone or with roommates; Harry did, though, which made him happy to know that they would be going back to his place. While their spaces weren't entirely large or spacious, he knew that he didn't have any reason to be nervous to show her what he had.

Harry had a one-bedroom, practically a studio as his bedroom door didn't shut entirely. He kept it open most of the time, since it was just him.

When he had approached the door to her apartment building, he texted her a quick message to let her know that he was outside. The day was a bit cloudy, there had been some rain the evening prior once they had left the rooftop bar– thankfully, afterwards, and not during. The spring air was rolling through New York, but it still had hints of chill in the air.

Harry wore a dark flannel shirt overtop of a plain white shirt that had a few buttons down the middle. His black jeans and Nike trainers were a bit rugged, as he was one to wear down his clothes quite well. He didn't like the feeling of new clothing, it was a bit too constricting. To his body and to his wallet.

It wasn't that he struggled with money– he didn't, really. His family helped him with a few things while he was just starting out his career. But there were certainly incidentals that Harry's eyes widened at when he saw the bills coming in the mail. It was a strict, harsh reality whenever he realized that the freelance gig of journalism needed to come to a close. He needed to really settle with a company rather than the continuation of contracting positions.

It wasn't helpful to know that his income was a bit of a harsh topic with family, he knew how it would impact him in the future. He was twenty-seven now, with a whole world ahead of him. He was a bachelor– for the moment, at least. He was having fun and able to figure these things out now. He didn't want to have to settle down or to put pressure where there wasn't any.

It was okay now– it felt fine.

When Sofia popped out of the door, he gave a quick glance at the effortless look of her. She was wearing a long-sleeved button down, a steel blue, with a pair of denim that hugged her closely. A pair of white trainers on her feet, as she came out of the building with a bag over her shoulder and a hairclip pinning back the dark locks from her face. The make-up was practically blush and a bit of chapstick; she looked like she hadn't tried at all, which made his heart skip a beat at the idea she wasn't nervous. It made him twice as much.

She sounded a bit out of breath as she approached him, her smile the same as the night before.

"Hi," He said quietly, watching as her eyes trailed over him.

"I think it's seven," Sofia looked at the pretty, gold watch that settled on her wrist, "It's seven twelve."

Harry pursed his lips as he grabbed the cellphone from his back pocket. He gave a once over to the message that he sent her before pointing out the time that the message was sent.

"Six fifty-eight, I believe." He smirked before he watched her cross her arms with a playful eyebrow raise. "I told you that you'd be the late one, not me. Probably spraying some perfume and making sure your hair was perfect for me. And it is, so I forgive you for being so late because you look very beautiful."

Sofia hummed, "I guess I'll let you off the hook since you said I looked beautiful," When she smiled, there was a small dimple at the base of her chin as she looked back at him with her deep brown eyes that had small, feathered out lashes, "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Appreciated." He told her before he turned on his foot.

They were heading down the street to one of his favorite local grocery stores. It wasn't a place that he shopped often, really only when he was trying to impress someone because their selection was quite niche and for restaurateurs who were looking to elevate their dishes.

Their small talk went from one part of the planet to the other, talking about her favorite bagel place that she would get a macchiato from on rainy mornings or a pizza shop that Harry had on his list to go to but hadn't yet.

When they reached the store, Harry grabbed a basket at the front before they walked into it and Sofia looked around.

"I've never been here," She commented softly. A small amount of radio played in the background as Harry smiled at the cashier that he had recognized.

"I come here when I'm looking for gold," Harry grabbed a few peppers from the vegetable stand before he mulled over the zucchini and eggplant.

Sofia grabbed a bottle of red wine from one of the shelves across the way, placing it in the basket. Harry looked down and smirked at her before she started to walk away, obviously filling the basket with her own priorities.

"Thought you didn't drink?" Harry questioned, placing an eggplant in the basket before following her towards the back a bit.

"I don't," She shrugged, "But I like the idea of you taking me to your apartment to cook me dinner while we each hold a glass of red wine and talk about first-world problems. Like how we have an obstructed view from our tiny apartments, but then you show me the fire escape where you sit and have a cigarette every once in a while."

Harry grinned to himself as he placed some garlic and a can of tomato paste in the basket, still perusing the shelves.

"That sounds like a particular experience. I don't know if that's how it's going to go," He shrugs, "But I can definitely show you the front stoop where I smoke my cigarettes at three AM when I get home from the bars. It may not have the best view, but I think it's charming."

Sofia turned her head, nodding. She grabbed a small block of gouda, placing it in the basket and Harry continued to smile as she felt comfortable enough to add her items to his order. It was kind of cute, in a way, he thought.

It meant she felt comfortable enough with him, and he liked that their chemistry had led them here.

Once they were finished shopping, he had gathered the items at the counter in two paper bags, one on each arm before Sofia pushed the door open for his ease. They had moved in the opposite direction than they had just come, so that Harry could lead them back to his place instead.

"You haven't really told me what you're making me," She eyed him, "Should I be surprised?"

Harry rolled his lips in his mouth before he shook his head and gave her a small smile, "Don't believe so. I think it's actually quite predictable, but it's one of the best things I make, which is just strictly to impress you because you are very hard to impress."

Sofia chuckled a bit as she placed her hands in her back pockets as they walked. "No, I'm just particular and want to make sure that I'm choosing wisely."

"Some may call that picky." Harry looked at her, holding the bags against his sides as he teased her.

Their conversation was easy and flowed, but she felt appreciated that he was able to do so. She hoped that he held tough conversations just as well, without the jokes or the teasing elements.

This was just her way of coping– to make sure that all conversations were light and held together with a piece of beautiful ribbon. Once the ribbon was undone, nothing was pretty anymore. Conversations that weren't held together were messy and unkempt; it was an element of relationships that she hated because she had run from them so often. Her family dynamic felt that way half of the time.

"Fine, you caught me," She shook her head, "I'm picky. But that should boost your ego quite a bit."

"Trust me," Harry told her, nudging her shoulder a bit to get her to turn right down one of the streets, "My ego is fucking over the moon as I get to walk down the street with you right now."

"Oh, please," She rolled her eyes, matching his smile as he nodded undoubtedly. "That's a bit dramatic."

They reached Harry's apartment building; it looked quite similar to some of the townhouses, but Harry walked right into the door as he unlocked it. It had a long staircase as they walked into the front area, it was quite dark when they arrived before Harry nudged her to go up the steps.

"It's the first door on the left." Harry told her before they walked up the small building before Sofia took one of the bags from his arms so that he could unlock the door properly.

Once inside, Harry threw the keys in the small dish by the door before he tread inside. Sofia closed the door behind her, taking in the area before placing the grocery bag on the small kitchen island inside. It was a small apartment, a bit bigger than hers. She liked that it had natural lighting, that it didn't feel dark. She liked that Harry had a sense of style, an element of cleanliness that most of the men she dated didn't seem to have.

It was a solid apartment with warm lighting and felt safe to her, in a way. But there may have been other elements present that kept her feeling that way.

"Would you like some wine, then, so I can explain to you about my front stoop?" Harry offered as he pulled the bottle from the bag. He examined it for a moment before giving a nod of approval as he took two glasses from his cabinet.

"Only if I can see your obstructed view first."

He placed them on the counter, using a corkscrew, and removing the cork out before handing it to Sofia.

"Hopefully you like this because it was twenty-seven dollars and you're picky." He cheered towards her, raising his glass a bit before he took a small sip.

"Cheers." She started softly with a giggle before taking a sip. It was a quite bold red wine, but something about it made her tongue salivate when she held it in her mouth. She felt Harry look at her with a lop-sided grin as she hummed to herself.

"Think I could've gone with the sixty dollar bottle," She told him, watching him shake his head.

Sofia wandered around the small apartment as Harry started to prepare the dinner. He threw a towel over his shoulder as he started to chop some vegetables rather precisely. She noticed the photos of him, the way that he kept memories around his apartment like he wanted to fill it with every ounce of who he was. She was rather impressed by it, knowing that she could've just gotten all of his information from walking around the living room a few times.

Her eyes peaked into his bedroom as the door had been open; Harry caught her.

"Interested?" He asked, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the dimpled smile that kept onto the tray of vegetables he had been chopping. He had returned to looking at his task rather than her, but his eyes lifted back to notice that she was slowly making her way around.

"I am quite interested in how old that blue comforter is and if that's one from an old college dorm room." Sofia started with a plain face before Harry acted as if it had knocked him back off of his feet. "Because if it is, I don't believe I am interested, no."

"Damn," He shook his head, "That hit me where it hurt."

Sofia shook her head, "You didn't answer which means it's not the answer I want to hear, either."

Harry wiped his fingers on the towel on his shoulders as he grabbed a baking dish and started to lay a layer of sauce on the bottom of it, before quickly arranging the chopped vegetables. Sofia sat on a stool at the small island, one of two that were there. They were mixed-match, which made her smile as she took another sip of the wine before she realized what he was doing.

Her eyes trailed him as he concentrated on how to place the pieces neatly.

"Are you," She squinted at him before he looked at what he had been doing, to her, "I told you I grew up in France and you decided to make me ratatouille?"

Harry shrugged as if a bit offended by her reaction to him, "It's a meal based off of one of the most critically-acclaimed films of our generation, so I think you may be jumping the gun a bit with thinking it's always about you."

Sofia swirled the red wine in her glass before she looked at Harry, "You think they named the meal after the film? The cartoon about a rat?"

"Put some honor on his name– Remy." Harry's sense of humor echoed as he tried to keep a straight face before he bit into one of raw peppers that hadn't fit into the dish.

"And you should know, I'm making this for you because it's the meal that got me to be featured in The Sunday Times once in college. I wrote a review about this restaurant in London that I went to as an intern and it was the first time I really felt like," Harry swirled his own wine around as he tried to think of the emotions that came with that small feat. "I really felt like I had made it. I was in a big city, I was doing cool stuff. It was just one of those things that brought a lot of comfort to this meal and it's one that I make sometimes just to really," He thought for a moment, "Don't know– remember that I'm doing well. And that I'm happy."

It was a moment that Sofia had not really been prepared for, as she hadn't seen that soft, kinder side to Harry. They were being playful, they were flirty and harmless– but something about his words made her listen harder. He was proud of himself for an accomplishment, and she nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm sure that was a huge deal for you," She nibbled at her lip, tasting the cherry red wine, "Is food what you write about mostly?"

Harry hummed to himself as he thought of her question, "Yes and no," He told her, "I'm a contracted freelance writer at the moment, which means I'm working at this magazine for six months and then they can directly hire me or let me go. It just depends, but I'm not super worried about it."

Harry stuck the dish into the oven, setting a timer on his phone before he threw the towel onto the island. He took the glass by the stem, moving towards the small living room space that was only a few feet ahead of them.

"But yeah, I mostly write about restaurants, the food industry, and the service industry. It's a field that interests me– I want to travel more and learn how to cook different cuisines, but I don't know. I guess the world is at my fingertips, and I always keep it a steady distance so I don't go too overboard with my dreams."

"You have a very wise way with your words, Harry." Sofia's voice was petite, her words were feeling heavy on her tongue as she realized how much the wine had started to take over her. She didn't know how to feel, but she knew that she felt good. She felt ultimately warm and composed gratitude that she was feeling safe in this space with a man.

That wasn't always the case. Her eyes were always on the door, always looking for a way out because that felt safe. That felt more secure than staying. Sofia had one foot out the door at all times because that was the only way she knew how to be.

"I'd hope so," He told her, "How else am I supposed to keep buying you fancy dinners and wines if I don't have a career? I think I need words to keep going on that."

She smirked, "You've already made this a more-than-once kind of thing?"

Harry leaned against the counter, holding his hands on it as he stared at her and nodded a few times. "I don't think this feels like something I want to stop right now," His honesty is refreshing, "Unless you take a bite of the dinner and absolutely hate it, then we might have to part ways."

Sofia finished the rest of her wine, draining the glass before she set it down on the countertop. She removed herself from the stool she had been sitting in before making her way to the small couch that sat against the wall in his tiny living room.

She noticed the stacks of books and DVDs that covered the wall, her eyes moving over them. They told a story of who he was, what he consumed. She settled onto the couch, feeling his presence behind her as he moved to do the same.

They discussed their time in the city; what each of them liked the most about it, what they despised. She told him about her days in college– she had attended a small state school right outside of Boston, where she had grown up mostly. Her high school years were spent in the United States, mostly. She was a good student, she loved learning. Her dreams of being an event planner were more than anything college could have taught her, and she realized that when she started to really make life decisions.

It was when she met Kendall that things had started to take a turn; it was then that her dreams and her hobbies were met with cynicism, not hope. She wanted to start her own business, to create special moments for people who needed that extra bit of joy in their life. Planning parties, birthdays, holidays, celebrations– these were moments in people's lives that made it exciting to be a human being.

It was nice to celebrate being alive every once in a while in a small gesture of kindness, and she loved being a part of that for people.

But her partner was unsupportive, he was pessimistic about that being a career path that would help them advance into the world that they wanted to live in. Sofia didn't come from money– her family was very middle class, but was given the opportunity to travel. They didn't have expensive things, they had memories. They had each other, and that was worth much more than the luxury items that Kendall was used to.

She couldn't help him live the life that he wanted to live because she wasn't making the income that he was. But she was happy. She was excited to go to work everyday. That was the difference, she felt. She had an okay apartment, she had okay clothes and items that worked to the best of their ability– Sofia was living a life that she had wanted, finally.

And something about the used couch, the broken spines of novels that lined the walls, and the mix-matched items that sprawled around Harry's apartment told Sofia that he had the same values that she did.

Harry shared about his working-class family back in England and how they were proud of him, but they also left more to be desired when it came to support. They had told him to stay in London for a bit longer, possibly climb the career ladder in England, instead. But Harry wanted to be more than that, he wanted to take chances.

His father called him irresponsible, his mother had told him that she was angry with his choices to move abroad. They still loved him– maybe that was why it hurt so much more when they said those things about what he was looking for. It may have been quite irresponsible, but Harry knew what he wanted and was going to try to make it work.

If it didn't work, he would have to pick a different path. It wasn't that hard to navigate life when it was just yourself you have to worry about, though.

The smell of roasted vegetables and herbs filled Harry's small apartment, a warm and inviting contrast to the crisp evening air outside. The countertop with his stools was set simply, two plates and glasses of wine, but it felt cozy, intimate. Sofia sat on the couch, watching as Harry moved around the kitchen to try and make sure everything was ready.

"So, ratatouille, huh?" she called over to him, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Didn't realize you were aiming for Michelin stars tonight."

Harry grinned, stirring the pot on the stove. "Hey, I've got hidden talents. Just wait 'til you try it. You'll be saying "Yes, Chef" by the end of the night."

Sofia snorted, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I highly doubt that, but I appreciate the enthusiasm. What is it they say? Confidence is half the battle?"

Harry turned around, giving her a playful look. "Confidence and a really good recipe, which, for the record, I stole from my grandmother. So if you don't like it, you're basically insulting a sweet old lady."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Nice try. Don't think I won't tell her the truth."

He shook his head, ladling the ratatouille onto their plates with a flourish. "Okay, Gordon Ramsey. You're gonna love it. Or at the very least, pretend you do to spare my feelings."

A moment later, he carried the plates over to the tabletop and set them down with an exaggerated bow. "Your dinner, madame," he said in an overly formal voice, pulling out the random barstool that made him laugh thinking about the fact he picked it up from a random street sale.

Sofia raised an eyebrow as she took her seat. "Such a gentleman," she teased, eyeing the colorful medley of roasted vegetables—zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers—perfectly layered in neat little rounds. It actually looked pretty impressive, but she was trying her best to keep her cool about it.

"I only aim to please," Harry said with a wink, sitting next to her and grabbing his fork. "Now, come on. First bite. Let me see if my future as a chef is secure."

She twirled a piece of zucchini onto her fork, pretending to inspect it carefully. " Color looks great, has a good softness to it without being mushy. Alright, moment of truth," she said, before taking a bite. The flavors hit her all at once—the sweetness of the tomatoes, the earthiness of the vegetables, the hint of fresh basil. She let out an appreciative hum, nodding slowly as she chewed. "Okay, okay. Not bad."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Not bad? Come on, give me more than that."

Sofia laughed, taking another bite. "Alright, fine. It's delicious. Happy?"

He pursed his lips to the side in an attempt to break her smile, watching her delicately as he squinted to try to see into her. Sofia was playing a harsh game with him, and he wanted her approval more than he could admit. Even though he knew how she felt, he wanted to hear her say it.

Approval meant everything to him, even if he knew that she was just giving him a hard time.

"Very," he said, taking a bite himself, his expression smug. "Told you I had hidden talents."

She grinned, shaking her head. "Well, consider me impressed. Just don't expect me to call you 'Chef' any time soon."

"Not yet, but give it time," Harry said with a wink, raising his glass of wine. "To culinary greatness... and to not burning down my kitchen."

Sofia clinked her glass against his, laughing softly. "And to not burning down your kitchen," she echoed, taking a sip. As she did, she glanced across the table at him, feeling the warmth of the evening settle in.

There was something so easy about being with Harry, about the way they could joke and talk, and share a quiet meal. It felt... right. Comfortable, yet filled with something more. Something she was slowly realizing she didn't want to let go of anytime soon.

"Tell me other things you do well." She inquired, taking another bite, covering her mouth as she chewed. She moved onto the next question as he found himself wanting to give a certain answer, but shaking his head instead.

She could tell as he started to blush a bit red at the suggestion that lined his brain.

"Uh," He picked at a piece of the eggplant before licking his lips, "I'm very good at crosswords," He told her, "And building things."

"What kind of things?" She asked, taking a sip of wine to wash down the dinner.

"Anything. It's actually kind of nerdy," He tilted his smile, "But I love building, like, Legos. I always have. I'm very step-oriented. Guess it's why I like cooking, too. There's just a lot of steps."

Sofia cleared his throat as she narrowed her eyes to her plate, before looking back up at him through her lashes. "Would you say you're," She paused for a minute, "Good at following directions, then?"

Harry cleared his own throat, chewing a bit slower as he leaned on the island a bit, body folded in half as he looked at her a bit more directly.

"I'm very good at following directions, yes." He suggested, nodding a few times.

The blush on Sofia's cheeks was noticeable now, too, as she found herself giggling just a bit to herself at his answer. She hadn't noticed that the wine may have gotten to them a bit, but it was starting to feel incredibly warm all of the sudden.

"What about you?" He asked in return, watching as she tried to think about the question. "What are you good at?"

Sofia swallowed, licking her lips. "I'm nurturing, I think. I think I'm caring and I'm honest, maybe to a fault. But I think to the people I love, I'm their number one fan. I'm really good at throwing a birthday party and showering my people with love. Again," She paused, "Maybe to a fault."

Harry licked his lips a bit, tucking some hair behind his ears before pushing the sleeves to his flannel up a bit. "That's a bit more deep than playing with Legos."

Sofia smirked a little at his comment, "I'm also very good at picking things up with my feet. I think my toes are quite nimble."

A laugh broke out of Harry that made Sofia start to giggle as well as he covered his face with his hand; he winked at her jokingly, "You'll have to show me later."

"Oh, great. Another guy in New York with a foot fetish," She jokes, "I share something personal to me, and you go and make it sexual."

He finishes the bite off of his fork before placing his fork down on the plate, "You're the one who shared the foot fact. I'm sure they're lovely. You've kept 'em covered up around me, though– little tease."

Sofia laughed at his banter, taking another sip of her wine before she saw the way that his eyes shined at her. She hadn't felt this safe in a while– she hadn't felt this relaxed. She recognized it could've been the wine, but she knew that it was just the way that they spoke to one another. He was extraordinarily normal, caring. He was mature, but not to a fault.

The air in Harry's apartment felt a bit stale now, but it may have been the fact that she was feeling the heated attraction coming directly across from her. Her leaning into the kitchen island was done unwillingly as she realized that they had started to naturally come together as they finished their meals a bit more quietly, then.

Once she took her last bite, she placed her fork on the plate and looked up at him, "Final review is that I'd say this is a Michelin five-star restaurant and I'd definitely come back."

"Restaurants can only have up to three Michelin stars, so I take that as the highest compliment." Harry explained before taking her plate and placing them both in the sink for washing later.

"Damnit, I was trying to impress you." She explained, finishing her second glass. The wine had started to make her head a bit dizzy at that point, which made the goofy smile on her face more noticeable as she tried her best to keep composed.

Harry reached for the bottle, pouring the rest between them as he stared at her directly again. The night had started to grow darker outside; the dimness of the lights in his apartment created a warm atmosphere as they sat practically in darkness with little rays of string lights and side table lamps that he had turned on.

Harry grabbed a lighter from a drawer behind him, lighting a few candles in the kitchen to add a bit of light and warmth to the space before he turned to her and bobbed his head to the side, aiding her to follow him.

"Come check this out," He stated, taking the wine and the lighter with him as he moved into the bedroom. It was practically dark except for the window that overlooked the city. There were dancing, twinkling lights below them, they radiated off of the street from the rain on the road. It was a view he was happy with, as it didn't back to a wall or to a small courtyard behind the apartment space.

He pushed the window up, moving to sit in the windowsill– straddling it to keep himself balanced as his foot hit the fire escape on the other side.

"I thought you told me you didn't have a fire escape," Sofia laughed, mirroring him.

She held the wine in her hands as she felt the breeze on her face, watching as the lights illuminated over his face. Harry grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the floor before taking one and lighting it quickly. The flame to the lighter shone over him, her eyes fixed for a moment.

"I don't think I said that." He explained, "I told you I'd show you the front stoop, so I could be a bit different– that was just to impress you. I think I'm over trying to impress you now, though."

Sofia raised her brows as she took the cigarette from his fingers. The smoke blew back into his face as he tried to blow it away. She took a drag, humming as she held the cigarette between her fingers. He didn't take her as the kind to smoke, but he liked the view as she sat across from him.

"Already done trying to impress me on the first date." She shook her head, "I knew you were too good to be true."

The sinking of Harry's dimple in his cheek brought her heartrate up as he took another sip of the wine; they had finished the bottle quickly, which was a good choice on her behalf. He rattled his brain as he saw the way that the lights shone over her skin. He couldn't help but want to caress it, feel her for himself. But he refrained. He didn't want to move too soon or to push too hard.

With time, it would happen, he thought.

But right now, he wanted to take his time with her. Get to know her properly. Get to know what she liked and didn't like, her favorite spots to go on walks, her favorite place to get a croissant in the neighborhood, her favorite way to drink her coffee.

Harry wanted to ask the questions that he didn't know if anyone else asked her.

"Cause I've realized that all the impressing I've tried to do hasn't really worked on you," He explained, he shook his head a little bit as he pushed his shoe a bit to touch her calf. It was some of the intimate touching that he had been working on pushing; Harry was intimate, he was a skilled lover with a love language that exceeded personal space.

He bit his lip, "You're literally the first person in a really long time that I've been able to be myself around."

Sofia stared up at him, flicking the ash of the cigarette before handing it back to him. She leaned forward a bit, his hand moved to grab it before their hands touched just a bit. Her eyelids fluttered a bit with heaviness at the feeling of his index finger gently moving across hers and the way that they both stared at the interaction was enough to make her breathing hitch.

"Is this, uh," She rolled her lips into her mouth as she let her own index finger move across his. She watched the small interaction before his other hand dropped to her knee just a bit. The feeling of his fingers caressing her just enough that she felt secure and safe was enough. "Is this the first chapter of our story, then?"

"Do characters usually kiss in the first chapter?" Harry asked, his voice just a bit raspy as he scooted himself a bit forward, letting his hand move towards her jaw. The way that her head rested against the windowsill was out of comfort, out of letting him take the control which she hadn't imagined that she could have let him have.

"I think that only happens in the movie version," Sofia teased, her voice low.

Harry scoffed, "Damn, and the movie is never as good as the book."

"I guess we have to keep reading to see what happens." She laughed a bit, quiet, even though they were the only two alone.

"Yeah," He laughed, "Keep reading. Promise the book gets better."

The sound of the honking horns, the chatter along the streets– it added to the way that both of his hands wrapped around the sides of her face to pull him closer. He smelled like tobacco and vanilla, the cigarette burned between his fingers as Sofia held onto his thighs as she leaned forward into it. The scent of him and the feeling of his lips against hers were far too heightened from the wine.

Her senses were higher in some elements, lower in others. She had tried her best to try and level herself out, but his tongue licked at her bottom lip and it interrupted all thought.

She tasted sweet like the wine, as he would have imagined. The feeling erupts in him as he had thought about doing this all night and finally feeling as if the moment had come to him in the perfect timing.

Harry fell too hard, too fast. But his values and ideals never changed. He wanted to love– wanted to be loved and to feel the support from someone who was never going to let him down. Harry ached for the love of someone, he had never truly been himself around someone before. He didn't think that being himself was good enough.

He wasn't the man who was going to support the family, he wasn't the person that had all of his shit figured out. That's what scared him the most about being in a relationship; as he sat here, leaving gentle kisses along Sofia's lips, he felt the urge to scream that he had finally found someone who looked at him just a little bit differently.

He had found someone who had opened up a part of him that he had been hiding away for a long time. Sometimes, it only took one night– one decision to change it for the best.

As they pulled away for a moment of air, Harry's forehead leaned against Sofia's for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She felt a sense of relief leaving her chest, knowing whole-heartedly that he had given her a night that she wasn't expecting. She wasn't expecting to leave here tonight with a smile or with the hope that harbored in her belly; she expected the disappointment.

Her lips tasted like his, and her heart raced at the thought of his lips all over her. Everywhere, all the time.

Her breathing stabilized a bit before she spoke again, shaking her head with disbelief.

"You're right," She nodded. "That was a really good book."

Her eyes were heavy as she watched the smirk of his lips; his face closer to hers as their noses practically brushed together.

"Just wait then," He said, his accent raspy and full of grit as he kissed her lips gently once again. "That was just the first chapter."

_____________

hiiiiiiiiiii <3

even if you're not obsessed with them, I am!

ily you guys for loving me & keeping up with all of my antics ugh thank you, thank you!! remember this is a short story so we're gonna move fast with time but I will try my best to cover as much as possible <3 let me know what you think so far!!!!

love you!!!!!

- em

[londonfoginacup]

Hello and welcome to Londonfoginacup’s 25 Days of Christmas Fic Recs!

The first day of fic recs is traditionally the day when I squish in a whole rec list because I’m going to gift to you a list of advent fics from years past! You can choose to read any of them right now, or read a chapter a day up until Christmas, the way they were initially designed! ...that being said, the list has gotten too long at this point and I refuse to shorten it, so I've taken out the summaries because that would just look ridiculous. Click one at random! They're definitely all good!

Frankincense-ational | Ladylondonderry / @londonfoginacup​

Harry/Louis   |   Zayn/Liam   |   Niall/Shawn   |   31k   |   25 Chapters

Forget the Silent Nights | Ladylondonderry / @londonfoginacup​

Harry/Louis   |   Zayn/Liam   |   Niall/Shawn   |   44k   |   25 Chapters

Give A Little Sing To The Singles | Ladylondonderry / @londonfoginacup​

Harry/Louis   |   Zayn/Liam   |   31k   |   25 Chapters

Hymns for restless stars | Turnyourankle / @turnyourankle​

Harry/Louis   |   37k   |   25 Chapters

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem | Lululawrence / @lululawrence​

Harry/Louis   |   25k   |    25 Chapters

When Half Spent Was the Night | Juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt​

Harry/Louis   |   14k   |   25 Chapters

I Just Want You to Stay | Sadaveniren / @sadaveniren​

Harry/Louis   |   34k   |   25 Chapters

The Happiest Season | Sadaveniren / @sadaveniren

Harry/Louis | 37k | 25 Chapters

Ideal: An Advent fic | asphodelknox / @asphodelknox

Harry/Louis | Zayn/Liam | Niall/Shawn | 40k | 25 Chapters

You Don’t Have To Be Lonely This Christmas | LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

Harry/Louis | Zayn/Liam | 35k | 25 Chapters

(I’m Dreaming of a) One Night Inn | Lululawrence / @lululawrence

Harry/Louis | Zayn/Liam | 54k | 25 Chapters

In A Twinkling | jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

Harry/Louis | 89k | 25 Chapters

like cranberries on a winter evening | 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

Harry/Louis | Lewis/Niall | Zayn/Liam | 57k | 28 Chapters

On Christmas Day (in the Morning) | lululawrence / @lululawrence

Harry/Louis | 26k | 26 Chapters

All I want for Christmas, is you | Beau_soleil

Harry/Louis | 15k | 25 Chapters

For more Christmas fic recs: 2021; 2020; 2019; 2018; 2017

[seekforwarmth]

hiii, lou! 💜

honestly, i love giving comforting hugs, because most of the time i don't know how to react when someone is having a bad time. i'm really empathetic, but at the same time i easily find solutions for other people's problems. when what they need at the time is just to mourn and calm down. 😓

yes, when the time comes, i would love to see what blogs you have in mind. 👾

oh, i love angst at all. it's just sometimes the pain is too much. but if i'm being honest, i easily lose interest if everything is just fluff or the couple gets together too fast. 🫣

let me guess, you only like louis, harry and one dee? i can't wait to see what songs you have chosen! and i have been always thinking the songs we listen to show what kind of person we are. it's like you get the memo before even talking to someone. that's why i don't usually show people my playlists. 🦄

well, about the astrology, not only one sign makes you who you are, but a lot of different signs working with each other. also, i kinda get this. i usually prefer listening when i don't want to talk about myself. but at the same time i'm like harry when someone asks me questions i don't want to answer. talking about anything else, but not the topic we are currently discussing. 😄

i hope whatever is the reason about you not being allowed to drink coffee is not something serious and you feel better soon! and i love hot chocolate so much. i don't like coffee. i prefer tea, matcha or hot chocolate. 🪁

i think in our next spanish lesson you should teach me how to say "i love chocolate", because i can't live without it. 😋

my questions for the day: how many fics are you planing to post this year? and what keeps you motivated to write? ☔️

hope you have a lovely friday,

- your secret valentine ☺️

hi love!!

i never know how to react either, i just offer if they want to be listened and that’s it. i’ve only comforted my family when we’ve lost someone but that’s as far as i’ve gotten.

(i don’t have any blogs in mind but i’ll look for some.)

ohh i like both i think. i like it when they go through a lot of things to be together but also when it’s just them loving each other since the beginning. i guess it depends on how things are said for me hdkdhd

yes, i only like them 🤭 and before i forget about it, here are ten songs to know me better:

the view from the afternoon - arctic monkeys

music when the lights go out - the libertines

ocean’s deep - born ruffians

hometown - twenty one pilots

beautiful disaster - 311

wait for it - leslie odom jr (hamilton cast)

fireproof - one direction

headline - louis tomlinson

satellite - harry styles

everywhere - niall horan

i think that’s why i prefer listening, so i don’t have to talk abt myself, and bc sometimes i stumble with my words (idk if that’s the right expression lol).

it’s nothing serious, don’t worry! it’s something to do with my brain, i was a bit ill last summer and now it’s just a measure to not get back to that heheh we can share a mug of hot chocolate sometime!

okay, if you want to say “i love chocolate” you can use the pronoun for “i” which is “yo” or you can skip it since the verb already indicates you’re talking in first person. “yo amo el chocolate” or “amo el chocolate”. yo is pronounced like in english, amo = ah-moh, for el it’s like when you say elephant, and chocolate you already know ;)

i’m posting two fics this year. my friends keep me motivated but not in a pressured way but i want to write to make my friends happy, that’s the reason i started writing fics in the first place. since i can’t give my friends gifts for their birthdays (or just because), i decided to write fics for them. currently i’m working with a friend on something and i’m having so much fun but i’m mainly doing it to see her happy. 💗

you know, i originally wanted to ask you your top 5 louis songs and then i linked it to the movies so i mentioned soundtrack lol but i’m still curious if you want to share?

have a nice day!!

[tinydeskwriter]

Traitor- Part Two

singer!reader

TRAITOR ; EXTRA

summary: in which H and Y/n met for the first time since the break up. 

word count: 2923

A/n: Y/n is mean in this one, but I swear, I tuned down from what originally was supposed to be. I know a few of you guys asked me to tag you, but in the spirit of fairness, I would ask who want to be tagged to send me a Ask, is easier for me to see you there than in the comments. As some of you may know, I already choose Y/n’s New Man, and he’ll already show up in the next Extra. Some of you asked if there is a chance os reconciliation, the answer is: I don’t think so, but… read and tell me what you think.

TRAITOR- PART TWO: Heartless.

2021, April 08.

She had chosen a light pink Zimmerman oversized dress from the 2020 collection, it had been a gift from Gemma and Anne for her birthday that year, it made her look soft and accentuated her belly with grace, she paired it with white Gucci Mule Princetown shoes, and a straw bag 'a la' Jane Birkin. Her hair was loose and brushed in beach waves. Rings covering her delicate fingers, and nails are painted a delicate shade of pink, and a large sunglasses by Dolce and Gabbana protecting her eyes.

Y/n looked very soft and motherly.

She had agreed to meet Harry at Full Stop Management's office in early April, even though Jeff told Lia that lawyers weren't needed, still, the manager knew better than to take his word for it, the woman, who had managed Y/n's career for the past ten years, categorically stated that Jeff and Harry would have a full team in the room, publicist, lawyers, the whole circus, it was after much insistence that the singer agreed to Camilla's presence at the meeting. Now Camilla might look harmless in her ultra-feminine clothes and flashy Louboutin heels, but the woman was a shark, not just any kind, in court she was reputed to be a cannibal, a shark that devours other sharks.

Y/n really hoped there was a team waiting for them, she didn't want to be seen as the person who was going for the attack. So far all her actions have been carefully planned to not be seen as aggressive.

The singer was accompanied by her manager, her personal assistant, and Niall —who had been staying at her house since she returned to LA, Zayn and Gigi had also been seen in town with their friend, a rare sighting in the case of the Bradford bad boy—, two bodyguards went together to make the security of the two Brits in case of the presence of paparazzi and fans.

It's safe to say that Y/n was surrounding herself with friends with all the publicity that now surrounded her breakup.

Whenever the singer was seen in public, she was accompanied by friends, and loyal friends at that, who quickly surrounded her to protect her from the paparazzi lens and the harassment of fans. Kendall had shielded her friend with her coat and glared at the paparazzi when the two were photographed in Santa Monica; Justin had asked for respect and for them to back off as he guided Y/n to the car with Hailey just behind on the exit from Nobu; Dakota wasn't afraid to show the middle finger when the paparazzi screamed for them as they left a little café in Malibu; hidden between Florence Welch and Mark being led away from the crowd, while Lady Gaga chatted with fans; she was snapped by fans shopping for children's items with Taylor Swift and Blake Lively in a nice little boutique in Manhattan in late March; and she was caught casually strolling through the Farmers Market in Brooklyn accompanied by actors Pedro Pascal and Oscar Issac, with Elvira and the couple's two children a few days later.

Her friends were showing support both publicly and privately.

People she hadn't been close with before, because of Harry's insecurity, had gotten bigger roles in her life. She was finally allowing herself to have male friends who weren't mutual friends.

The Lincoln Navigator pulled up in front of the building, quickly being surrounded by paparazzi and fans, easily a crowd of a hundred people. Y/n looked at Niall as he swore.

The security guards got out of the car first, and only when they managed to clear some space between the paparazzi did the Irishman open the door, getting out first and helping his friend out. The cameras were on them the second her feet touched the ground.

They clearly had been tipped that there would be a meeting that day.

Y/n held her head high, eyes hidden by dark shades while walking behind her longtime friend, hand gripping the crook of his elbow. Niall led the way, leading the group of women into the building.

As the paparazzi took pictures they didn't throw too many invasive questions at her. There were also fans around, Y/n noticed, she smiled faintly and waved at some who were shouting her name in support and even accepted the flowers they offered her. In the court of public opinion Y/n was the victim, this was crystal clear, a young woman who had loved a men too much and had been cheated on and left for a new lover, a modern more Hollywood and glamorous version of what Lady Di had been.

The singer had gained five million and a half new followers on Instagram since the Grammys, and a few thousand more after her interview with Hailey.

“Jeff must be shitting bricks,” Lia smiled a little when they were safely in the lobby. “His golden boy is not so golden anymore.��

The group found Camilla already waiting in the lobby, the lawyer greeted everyone cordially, and Y/n affectionately. They headed for the elevator, the way from the ground floor to the office floor taking place in silence. When the door slid open an assistant, whom Y/n recognized by sight, but couldn't remember the name, was waiting for them, the girl smiled at them, greeted them politely and guided them to the conference room.

For the first time since December, Harry and Y/n were in the same room. His emerald eyes following her as she moved around the room.

Her ex was sitting between Jeffrey and an older man in a suit. His side of the table was filled with older men in suits, and a stern-looking woman that Y/n recognized as Karen, leader of the PR team.

"I thought we weren't going to involve lawyers, Jeff." Lia said in a sarcastic tone as she greeted the man.

At least Jeffrey had the decency to blush.

"Y/n...How are you?" The singer looked at Harry, his hoarse voice sounded almost breathless.

He looked fine, at least physically, definitely not dressed for an important meeting, his hair was cut short in a retro haircut—was probably already filming My Policeman—, and he looked tired, with bag under his eyes, she could see the guilty and sadness in his eyes. Good.

Bella had sent her the tabloid piece reporting Harry and Olivia's breakup, with pictures of the woman moving out of his rented house and all, the older woman looked miserable and sloppy —and Y/n would deny it until the end, because you never push another woman down to build yourself up, but she felt a little bit of satisfaction reading the comments about how Olivia was a downgrade compared to ‘Goddess’ looking Y/n, those are probably left by her fans, and how he had probably just settled for Olivia after the breakup—.

The young woman sat in the chair Niall pulled out for her, her hands protectively over her stomach, in an involuntary gesture.

“I am doing better now.” It was the only answer she gave, and it was already more than he deserved from her.

Harry leaned slightly across the table. "Can we please talk?" He looked at the people around them. "In private." His people seemed ready to get up and leave the room as soon as he gave the cue, but the four people accompanying Y/n looked at her, making it clear that they wouldn't move without her saying something.

Y/n sighed, taking the sunglasses off her face and laying them on the table, she looked at the man she once loved more than life itself with cold eyes. To Harry, she looked more goddess than woman, and he swallowed hard, deeply regretting all the bad choices he'd made that had led to him losing the love of his existence.

"The time for  private conversations is over Harry." The woman had her eyes fixed on her ex-fiancé. "Now we're here to discuss how to go forward and move on, and leave all that happened where it belongs, in the past." They both knew she meant not just the suffering and pain he had caused her.

She meant him, and the years they'd spent together. The good and the bad. He was now only a piece of her past. He had no place in the next Act of the show that was her life. If before he had been one of the protagonists of her life story, now he had been relegated to a minor supporting character.

"I miss you, Love, everyday and every hour, I know…" There was desperation in his voice, Y/n could hear it clearly, but she came to the shocking conclusion that she didn't care.

"You have no right to miss me." She interrupted him without mercy. "That was your choice Harry, you chose this, you knew what your decisions would cause, you knew the pain you would inflict on me, and you did it anyway."

He looked at her stunned, he got so used to his sweet Y/n that he forgot she had a bite in her.

"Babe, it was a huge mistake, we could..." He tried, more desperate than ever, he wasn’t used to the coldness in her eyes being directed at him.

"We could," she agreed, some aggressiveness in her eyes, "We could have gotten over what you did, we could, I loved you enough to try, but you broke up with me and started dating her like I was nothing in your life, as if the eight years we spent together didn't matter, as if we weren't planning a wedding." The woman was looking down at him, like a queen to a dirt peasant. "So when you miss me, remember, when you had me I wasn't good enough."

Niall squeezed his friend's hand on the table in support.

Everyone around them stayed in silence, just watching the heated interaction between the former couple. It was almost pitiful too watch.

At this point there was nothing Harry could say to make her forgive him. After what he'd put her through, after how he'd made her feel… She didn't even want to talk to him, there was nothing he could say to make all his mistakes go away.

Lia cleared her throat, looking from her client to her ex cautiously.

"Okay…We are here to resolve the division of jointly acquired assets, I think it's best if we stick with that for now." Lia interrupted before either Harry or Y/n could say something else.

Jeff nodded, he's never been much for confrontations, he looked at Harry once more, the younger man looked absolutely miserable with his hand buried in his hair, but nodded in agreement to move on, his emerald eyes never leaving the woman he had shared his life with for the past eight years. Harry's manager took the folder offered by one of the lawyers.

He looked at the client one last time before his eyes focused on Y/n's face. He'd almost forgotten how gorgeous Harry's ex-fiancee was in the months since he'd last seen her. The singer had a kind of neutralizing beauty, and the pregnancy glow only seemed to accentuate it more.

"Harry has decided to give up his share of  joint estate in favor of Y/n." Jeff said looking at his client's ex-fiancée, he opened a leather folder he had in front of him, reading the summary. "The £15 million Hampstead mansion in London, the $5 million Tribecca apartment in NYC, the Lake Como Villa, and the $9 million Sunset house in Los Angeles, other minor properties are also listed in the folder." The manager exhibited the portfolio with the properties and documentation already draw in the woman’s name.

Y/n scoffed, it wasn't like she needed it, her bank account was bigger than his, but Harry was so predictable in his guilt, she knew this was him trying to minimize her anger, to buy her forgiveness, letting her keep the houses she had carefully made into homes for them during the last few years. As if in eight years he hadn't known her well enough to know she didn't care for material things.

But she knew, it was also about the babies, even if they haven’t gone there yet.

Jeff slides the folder into Lia’s direction.

"You just need to sign." The lawyer sitting next to Harry said offering her a pen.

Lia passed the folder for Camilla to read.

Y/n looked at Harry, she was still wearing her mask of coldness. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"It's the least I can do," He said with a barely perceptible smile, "I know how much you love these houses, and how much you've put into making them a home, it wouldn't be right..."

It wouldn't feel right for him to continue living in them, or to take someone to live with him. That was a line he never crossed, he never tried to take Olivia to one of the houses he had acquired with Y/n.

"A house is just a building Harry, that was never what I really cared about." Y/n said, but signed the papers when Camilla gave her the OK, the singer took the pen and signed the sheets on the marked dotted lines.

"It's not like I'll be able to live in any of them now, anyway, too many memories..."

"Sell it, have it demolished, set it on fire, they're yours to do with what you want," the man said running a hand through his hair in despair. "This is me trying, Y/n/n, but I don't know what to do to get your forgiveness, what gesture, what to say..."

Y/n glanced in Camilla's direction briefly, and the lawyer simply picked up the folder she had brought with her and pushed it towards Harry's lawyer.

The pregnant woman watched the lawyer read the document with a stoic expression, looking from Camilla to Y/n from moment to moment, the man wiped the sweat from his forehead before leaning towards Harry and Jeff, and explaining in a whisper what the document was about.

“Y/n…” Harry stared at her with questioning eyes, hurt written all over his face.

"That's it H, that's the way to my forgiveness, it won't happen now, but eventually..." She shrugged and said in an emotionless tone, looking at him with a bored expression.

"This is basically me giving up my unborn children." Harry said swinging the folder over the table.

"That's you giving me control." Y/n said calmly. "That's you respecting my choices and decisions, this is you trusting me like I always used to trust you."

“Are you this bitter and heartless?”

“Oh, you didn't go there...” She said with a bitter laugh, shaking her head and briefly looking at the table before looking up and facing Harry. "I had a heart, it was kind, soft, big, and trusted blindly, but I gave it to the wrong person, and that person was careless with it, and now I have a broken heart." Every word she uttered was like an insult to the man in front of her. "This, right here, is the result of your carelessness, I used to think you were the best man among men, now I realize that you're not that bloody great." The calm with which she spoke, made it even worse. "I'd rather be heartless than have my heart broken by someone who doesn’t deserve it."

Silence hung over the conference room until it was interrupted by one of Harry's lawyers.

"We can fight for custody in court..."

Y/n turned his head towards the lawyer like a snake ready to attack.

"You do it, I dare you." The pregnant woman smiled predatorily. "I'm not someone that can be threatened, or put into a corner, I have the financial means to drag out a legal battle for years, and I want to see you find a judge here or in England who would take away custody of my children in Harry’s favor." She turned to Jeff. "And in the meantime, H is going to be convicted in the court of public opinion, his career is going to suffer, because if you guys try to come against me, this was just the beginning, the EP, the interview... I'll do worse, you never saw me being mean, I'm going to turn it into an album, I'm going to Oprah, I'm going to drag his and her name through the proverbial mud."

She never looked more like the lioness Louis joked she was than at that moment.

It was already an unspoken rule around haute couture dress-rooms: if designers wanted to see their pieces showcased by Y/n and her friends, Olivia was persona non grata. It wasn't something Y/n started, but Kendall and Bella were petty enough in her name.

"I don't want you in my life, it still hurts to look at your face." The singer sighed and said more calmly, this time looking at Harry. "And I can't say that I'll forgive you, or that one day I'll be ok with co-parenting with you, but I have no intention of banning Anne and Gemma's access to the twins, and that's the best I can offer right now."

Harry sighed in agreement with a sad smile, he had tears in his eyes and ran his hands over his face before picking up the pen from the table and pulling the papers towards him.

He stared at the dotted line for a few minutes before scribbling his signature.

[barkrry]

Harry x Matty [1D Band Member OC] / Harry x OFC Masterlist A scowl covered her face as she adjusted the sunglasses on her face, glancing around at the busy streets. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, and was pulling her into his lean body.

“You alright?” He muttered to her softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. He knew she had a thing about crowds, which was ironic considering their day job.

“Got you with me,” she smiled, her arm wrapped around his waist, gently stroking the skin against his hip.

“Let me know if it gets too crazy,” he said quietly, gently rubbing her shoulder as they walked the streets, looking into the windows of some of the stores.

Matty was on the hunt for a birthday gift for Niall, which was just around the corner now. She may have left it till the last minute, but it hadn’t been intentional. With the tour and just in general travelling, time had gotten away from both her and Harry. Which resulted in their shopping trip.

Matty gently tugged him into a store, her brows raising as she looked up at him with a soft giggle. He laughed at her, nodding his head as he followed her around. They would each pick up an item, make a few jokes about it before putting it back and then moving on. But it wasn’t long before the two band members had attracted some attention, especially when they were in fits of laughter over Matty suggesting they buy Niall a potato playing a tiny guitar.

“He’d love it!” Matty declared, gently squeezing the plushie.

Harry shook his head, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her forehead, “You’re a dork.”

Her bottom lip stuck out her bottom lip, putting back the plushie before gently pulling him along to another aisle, where they were promptly stopped by a couple of girls a little younger than them.

“Hi, Harry! Can we get a photo?” One of the girls asked, holding up their phone.

He happily nodded, gently releasing Matty, to move up and pose for a photo with both of the girls. It was quick, and by the time she had finished blinking, they were thanking him, glancing over at her.

“So, are you guys dating?” The second girl asked, pointing between them. Harry glanced at Matty, a little panicked at the question.

Matty curled her fingers around her bag strap, a little crease in her brow, a shrug of her shoulders as she looked at Harry.

“We’re friends, who are currently shopping for another friend,” Harry told them, nodding his head. “But if you could hold off from posting the pics until later on tonight, we’d really appreciate it.”

The girls nodded their heads, thanking him again before they were walking off. Matty wrapped herself around his body once again. He rubbed the dip between her shoulder blades, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Just friends, hmm?” She teased, looking up at him.

“Oh, I forgot we’re coworkers too,” he said, with an amused expression on his face. She pinched his hip, and he laughed out, shaking his head. “Didn’t wanna answer,” he mumbled, resting his chin against the top of her head.

“Know what you mean, it’s hard,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest, sighing softly. “But I like that it’s just between us. Keeps it all separate,” she added quietly, pressing a kiss to his chest before she was dragging him along the aisle.

The pair were quick in the mission for the remainder on their day out. They ended up getting Niall a new pair of headphones, remembering that he said his ones were playing up a few days ago, as well as the potato plushie.

[hlficlibrary]

Here is part 2 of my long word count fic rec! I scoured through ao3 and picked out a lot of great fics for you all to look through and find something to read! Hope you like em! This is from 149K down to 130K! Part 1 is here.

🖤 Walk That Mile by @daisyharry

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes. - A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

149K / Strangers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers / Road Trip au /

🖤 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

An X-Men au

149K / Friends to Lovers / Hurt Comfort / Slow Burn / Angst W Happy Ending /

🖤 Empty Gold by rainbow_kings

AU where Louis Tomlinson attends the vigorous, demanding performing arts school: Guildhall in hopes to complete his theatre degree. He is a scholarship student, always having to work twice as hard to prove his worth which has caused him to feel resentment and anger towards his subordinate position.

Harry Styles is the wealthy, naturally gifted actor who effortlessly snatches all the main roles within the class. The complete contrast to everything Louis is.

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have had bad blood and despised each other for the two years they attended Guildhall together, making each task a competition between each other.

In the final year, when Guildhall produces and performs an original play, Louis is heartbroken to learn the lead role has been been received to Harry and he's the second role. He's mostly terrified, however, when he realises he has to date Harry in the play as their characters. They come together through awkward stage kisses that transforms to hate sex, heated arguments, rehearsal times after lectures and baking carrot cake together.

148K / Enemies to Friends to Lovers /

🖤 Monday Meetings by @flamboyantommo

American AU where the boys all work for their college newspaper. Louis gets to voice his opinion in every issue, Liam is in charge, keeping everyone in line, Niall just really loves soccer, Zayn is an aspiring photographer and Harry is the incoming photo editor.

(Or, the one where Louis wants to date Harry, but won't, because they work together, even though the other boys follow no such rule.)

--- Louis turned and looked Harry in the eye. "I told Niall that even though he wanted to date Josh, his co-worker, it just wasn't going to work out. And that was OK, because there's plenty of other people out there for him." Please take the hint. Please. It looked like Harry did, because he simply nodded before breaking the gaze.

147K / College AU / Roommates / Friends to Lovers /

🖤 amaryllis by @hattalove

"Where are we?" "Um. A little while out of London?" Niall tries, seemingly the only one willing to not be mysterious and provide Harry with information, and. Oh. "London London? As in, the capital of England London?" he asks, just in case he'd misheard. "No, the other London," Louis laughs, low and biting. He comes closer finally, the moonlight just enough to reveal a sharp-cut jaw and pale skin. "Sorry, Pup." Nobody's ever called Harry a "pup". Frankly, he finds it quite insulting, but he lets it slide to try and comprehend his current crisis.

or the one where harry gets bitten by a werewolf. louis is the mysterious not-quite alpha, liam and zayn have Things going on, niall is their token human, and together, they watch a lot of TV.

146K / Werewolves / Friends to Lovers /

🖤 Escapade by dolce_piccante

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

146K / Fake Relationship / Slow Build /

🖤 rather be sad with you (than anywhere away from you) by @coffeehazza

Louis, Niall, and Liam have already been living together for four years when they get a new roommate.  Harry’s in pre-med and Louis is struggling to graduate and fulfill his family’s hope of him becoming an esteemed lawyer while battling his mental health.

Featuring: Longhaired Harry AND longhaired Louis! Lots of Rom-Com lad nights, future dentist Niall who unabashedly refers to their flat as the ‘lad pad’, future aerospace engineer Liam who can’t seem to escape Harry and Louis’ sex life, drunken karaoke, and matching Fleetwood Mac tattoos.

145K / Uni AU / Friends to Lovers /

🖤 Flour and Chocolate by teaandtumblr

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

 What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

145K / Single Parent Louis / Baker Harry / Slow Burn /

🖤 All That I Could Never Lose by @chelsea-frew

One Direction takes on "The X-Factor" with a twist: Harry Styles was born blind.

145K / X Factor Era / Hurt Comfort /

🖤 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo

 “But I don’t belong here,” Louis insists.    “Why do you say that?” James asks.    “These people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” Louis shrugs.    Something sparks in James’ eyes.    “And you’re not?”

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

144K / Childhood Friends / Friends to Lovers / Slow Burn /

🖤 Landslide by @aimmyarrowshigh & spibsy

The year is 1976. In November, Jimmy Carter will take control of the White House. Americans are meeting Laverne & Shirley at their apartment in Milwaukee. Hotel California diverges from the reign of Kool & the Gang. And the FBI is still reeling from the repercussions of Watergate, the tragedy at Wounded Knee, Operation Family Secrets, and the strategic terrors of the anti-cult movement.

That's what Special Agent Harry Styles has been told is the basis of his mission to an abandoned farmhouse in rural New Hampshire.

With his hair grown out long and his shirt untucked, he's going undercover to do reconnaissance on suspected cult leader Louis Tomlinson, who has led a group of people out into the middle of nowhere, leaving no record of the life he'd had before. All Harry knows is what the agency gave him: Tomlinson's name, and instructions to figure out what he's doing with the eleven people he brought with him.

In the year that Harry spends undercover and under Louis Tomlinson's wing, he learns more than he ever expected.

143K / Historical / Agent Harry / Cult Leader Louis /

🖤 falling into you by @aliensingucci

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

143K / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis / Slow Build /

🖤 Serendipity, Actually by somethingsilly

AU where Harry truly believes in Destiny and Louis just happens to cross his path at the right moment. Featuring a world with the size of a stamp, Liam as the best friend ever, Niall as a social butterfly who knows everyone and Zayn who always knows what's going on. Or where everyone is at the right place at the right time.

142K / Friends to Lovers /

🖤 Dare to Love by NicoleFrenchie

Louis is a drama major starting his sophomore year in college. A bunch of stupid dares from his friends aren't supposed to turn his entire world upside down. Then again, maybe it's not the dares. Maybe it's just Harry, Niall's new Freshman roommate.

142K / Friends to Lovers / Angst W a Happy Ending / College AU /

🖤 Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5

As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies. 

141K  / Prince Harry /

🖤 The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

140K / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis / Uni AU / Angst W a Happy Ending /

🖤 Petrichor by larryandgaystuff

Louis moves back home after graduating from college and finds out that Harry hasn’t changed much in the ways that matter and neither have his feelings for him.  His hair is longer and his voice is deeper and he now owns the bakery where they worked as kids.  But his eyes are just as bright and his dimples are just as beautiful and he’s still everything Louis wants.  Niall and Liam basically help them both get their shit together because what else is new.

140K / Exes to Lovers / Pining /

🖤 Pull Me Under by zarah5

As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed   relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.) 

140K / Fake Relationship / Football Player Louis /

🖤 A Lot of Fight Left in Me by @chloehl10

A few years after One Direction, Louis and Harry Tomlinson are happily married, have 5 year old twins and life seems pretty perfect. Their children have started school, and they're still in regular contact with their bandmates and best friends, Niall and Liam. However, when their daughter receives some news they could have never expected, their whole world gets turned upside down. With a little help from friends and family and their love keeping them afloat they’re determined to take back their happiness, believing in the fact that love really is all you need. 

139K / Established Relationship / Kid Fic /

🖤 As You Are by zarah5

Five years after The X Factor launched his career as a radio host and songwriter, Louis Tomlinson returns as a judge. Falling for a contestant is the last thing he needs. It's also against his contract.

The only reason Harry auditions for The X Factor is because his best mate signed the two of them up as some kind of joke. Harry doesn't get the big deal—not until he's faced with this season's judges and realises that one of them used to be his desperate, impossible teenage crush.

139K / Famous - Not Famous / Forbidden Love / Angst W a Happy Ending /

🖤 Run Like the Devil by benzos

Harry stops pouting, but his frown is still fixed in place. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You know it’s your soul you’re signing away.” He sounds…sad? No, that’s not right, but there’s  something.

Christ. This is the most incompetent demon Louis’ ever met. If he hadn’t seen the red of his eyes he wouldn’t believe he was a demon at all. How’d he get this job if he isn’t trying to convince Louis to deal? Or is it just another trick? A ploy for sympathy?

“I’m sure,” Louis says. “Come over here and kiss me.”

Supernatural AU. Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

139K / Enemies to Lovers / Demon Harry / Hunter Louis /

🖤 like fires in the night by coldflasher

Louis comes to university looking for a drama degree and a purpose in life. He gets significantly more than he bargained for.

He’s got a secret stash of weed under the floorboards, his grades are going to shit and his mates keep getting pissed. There are secret passageways in the wardrobes and he really needs to get Niall a girlfriend. And most importantly, he can’t take his mind off the mysterious law student down the hall…

138K / Uni AU /

🖤 the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by becauselarry

The one in which One Direction in 2015 still includes Zayn, and nothing has been right between Harry and Louis for a long time now. Louis is certain that the situation he finds himself in won't change anything at all - he doesn't want it to, if he is honest with himself, as he doesn't want this situation to be a situation in the first place.

138K / Established Relationships / Secret Relationship / Mpreg /

🖤 You You You by @isthatyoularry

“Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like... "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" "Louis," Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. "You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."

Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

137K / Famous - Not Famous / Famous Harry /

🖤 All About Us by LHStylinson

When Harry and Louis' teenage daughter bring a boy home for the first time to meet them Louis tries to act as the protective father and Harry just wants everyone to be happy. Throughout the night and protests from their daughter, Louis and Harry reminisce about how they met and overtime share their story with the boy that seems to look at their daughter the same way Louis once and still looks at Harry. 

137K / Established Relationship / Famous Louis / Baker Harry /

🖤 Unbelievers by @isthatyoularry

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

136K / Enemies to Lovers / Enemies with Benefits / Football Co-captains /

🖤 Fake It Till You Make It by @avocadolouie

In a twisted turn of events, Louis finds himself posing as the brother of his fiancé, Harry, for an annual company retreat.

Did he sign up for this? No.

Is he doing it anyway? Yes.

Can they actually pull this off? Probably not.

136K / Fake Relationship (in a way)

🖤 You Call Out My Name (For The Love You Need) by AllTheseLittleWritings

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she says, as they watch the car burn in the silence of the first spring night, which still seems like it’d be winter. The small drizzle of water has turned into snowflakes and they are still falling, but they don’t feel cold. Some stick to Louis’ hair and eye lashes and they stay there, like they’d be part of Louis.  

-

Louis thinks he has fallen in love. He’s so sure about it. Then everything changes. He gets into a car accident with his mother and suddenly his life turns from living into being an angel. He doesn’t know what to do with his time, until his mother gives him a task.

Harry is trying to make it as a singer. He spends his days on the streets, playing his guitar, and his nights at a pub. He loves his whiskey and he likes his one night stands. When a guy with blue, bright eyes sits next to him in the pub, he realizes things could be a lot different.

In other words, Harry is a street artist and Louis is an angel.

135K / No Smut /

🖤 Eight Cakes and Two Eulogies (Make a Happy Marriage) by yesllliam

The Honourable Louis Tomlinson, heir to the Earldom of Colbury and the multi-billion pound family business, RLA Enterprises, often feels under pressure to conform to the expectations of those around him. The 30 year old, nerdy and rather homely physicist part of himself feels he ought to be getting married and carrying on the family line – as does his formidable Grandmother. The only problem is, after his last disastrous relationship, seven years ago, he has little desire to get intimate with another woman, let alone marry one. Of course, Harry, his famous actor of a best friend, always likes to pip in that he is free to marry him and while Louis loves him to pieces, the joke is getting a bit old now.

135K / Historical / Friends to Lovers /

🖤 Let's Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay by embro

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. He was raised by apes and barely speaks a word of English and turns Louis' life upside down.

134K / Model Louis / Jungle Man Harry /

🖤 Undone, Undress by @angelichl

Louis' new roommate is shy, skittish, and flinches at the slightest sounds. He's an art major who gets drunk on cherry wine, wears lacy lingerie, and shows up late at night covered in bruises that blossom across his skin like flowers.

Obviously something is wrong. Louis just doesn't know what it is.

134K / Hurt Comfort / Uni AU /

🖤 Empty Skies by @greenfeelings

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfill his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

Featuring Perrie as Harry's adorable flatmate, Niall as his manager, and Liam and Zayn as Louis' bandmates.

134K / Pining / Hate to Love /

🖤 With a whimper by kitundercover

Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger. ---

The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.

Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.

“Fine.” Large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”

Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”

The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”

132K / Dystopia / Slow Build /

🖤 red hands by @dystopianharry

“I’ve never told anyone,” Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them.  “But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.” a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

132K / Dystopia / Enemies to Lovers / Slow Burn /

🖤 Hold You Now by @solvetheminourdreams

The string within Harry's own sweatpants is now dangling outside of his pocket, stretched so far out that the seams of his pants have tightened. His eyes remain hyper focused on Louis, how oblivious he is—scrolling through his phone without a care in the world, while Harry feels his tilt on its axis.

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

131K / Angst W a Happy Ending / Slow Burn / Ex Friends w Benefits /

🖤 Wild Love by @daisyharry

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

130K / Friends to Lovers / Fake Relationship /

🖤 Lightning Strikes The Heart by Bekita & @fournipplesau 

Shrewsbury, 1814

Dearest reader, I present to you your new bulletin of news regarding Shrewsbury citizen's activities. My name is Lady Merriweather and I will be in charge of the updates. I will make sure you are to know all the important details of what is to happen this season. You must know that you do not know who I am and you never shall. But be forewarned; I certainly do know you. I advise you to be on your best behaviour, lest you want the whole town to be privy of your business.

As expected every year, the Lockhart House hosts the season’s opening ball, and its invitation is the motive of the hustle in town, and every family hopes for the invitation. This year is no different, but this year everyone's attention is focused on the new Duke of Montgomery, His Grace Harry Edward Styles, and whether he will attend it.

All the omegas will be in their best manner, behaviour and clothes as it is expected. And here, dear reader is where we will find out which young omega might succeed at securing a match, hoping to not become a spinster.

Place your bets.

130K / Historical / Enemies to Lovers / Fake Relationship / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed! It can make an author’s day!

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: III

“You can have me tonight or never

I thought you understood

Baby, some people are meant to be loved and others just naked

So take what I’m willing to give, love it or hate it.”

—Wrong, Zayn and Kehlani

A/N: alright SO!!!! the original part 3 ended up being at the cusp of 50k words (because i have no self control) and that is a LOT to read in one go so it’s getting split into parts 3 and 4! which means!! double update laidese and germs!!!! part 4 will be posted this SUNDAY, AUGUST 16th at 5PM PST/8PM EST :D we hope you enjoy this chapter, feedback is greatly appreciated, and please please PLEASE!!! if you like it, reblog it!!! and if you want, go nuts in the tags!! every single one is read!!! it keeps content creators motivated 💌leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ took the liberty of making an incredible playlist to go along with our story, so feel free to check it out and see if you can find any clues as to what’s in store for the characters 👀without further delay, here she is...buckle up 👁👁this is gonna be quite the ride

ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist

word count: 24.2k

content/warnings: cheeky banter over texts, The Crew dragging Niall to shit, more banter over a glass of cheap wine, vampire!harry showing up to “interior design” sessions looking like a runway model, some fwb smut, degradation kink, very mild mentions of blood, and some ugly tapestries that somehow lead to sexting

///

Y/N definitely puts Harry’s number to good use. Very good use.

In fact, during the span of the next month or so, Harry reckons that she pulls up his contact on her phone so often that she probably has him listed on speed dial. The assumption is dramatic and probably incorrect, on behalf of his arrogance, but with how much time they start spending together, it’s hardly a stretch.  

It all begins exactly a week after their first time meeting. 

Harry still hates clubs. 

He hates them more than he did last week. He hates them more than he did yesterday, more than he did this morning, and even more than he did a minute ago. He fucking despises them. 

And yet, as Harry stands here before the mirror in his enormous double-sink bathroom, fiddling with his damp hair as his flouncy dress shirt hangs unbuttoned from his broad shoulders, he’s absolutely positive he has never hated clubs more than right now. 

Niall got to pick the venue this time. He’d texted his choice in the groupchat (which is respectfully named Dinner Plans) about four hours ago, making sure to get the word out decently early so that everyone could start making their preparations, all in order for the crew to be on the move by nine P.M. 

It’s now nine thirty-seven, and everyone is fully set to leave at the agreed upon hour. Everyone except Harry. 

This, however, is not uncommon. He’s always the one that takes the longest to get ready, no matter how soon he starts. No one can remember an instance where Harry has ever been ready on time— which says a lot, considering most of the gang has years of memories from which they can pull. Mitch especially. With almost a century of friendship behind them, not once has the older vampire ever seen Harry stick to a deadline. His flare for being fashionably late is less a flare, and moreso an irritating burn. It always throws off their game a bit, but at this point, everyone has gotten used to the seemingly young vampire’s theatrics. 

So on this Friday night, there isn’t much more to do other than mold to his habits; Harry answers to no one except himself and it’s been that way for decades now, for a reason he’d rather not reminisce. He doesn’t owe anything to anyone, especially since he’s the one that always takes charge of getting them where they need to go, as well as getting them inside said destination. Complaining about their leader wouldn’t do the gang any good for a number of reasons, especially because Harry rarely ever listens. It is what it is— he’s just the way he is, and they’ve all learned to live with and respect that.

The funny thing? Harry does it on purpose, though his friends aren’t aware of it. He drags out the process of getting prepared simply so he can put off having to step inside one of those circus acts people refer to as clubs. He goes as slow as possible and does as much as possible, spreading seconds into minutes, and maybe— if he’s insistent enough and feeling particularly pesky— an hour. His record is an hour and twenty-eight minutes, which he wears with pride, much to his group’s unamusement. 

Harry knows no one will ever say anything about his annoying tendencies, unless they’re willing to volunteer themselves to take the reins for the night. Vampires are alert and productive, but only when they want to be— which is usually only when it benefits them— and only if they can muster up the patience for it. And frankly, none of the creatures he associates with have the patience required to deal with security, driving, and other obstacles the way Harry does. He’s indispensable, and therefore, everyone puts up with his shit. Quid pro quo has never been more effective. 

So here Harry stands, now thirty-eight minutes past the original time sorted for departure, carefully combing volumizing mousse into his slightly wet curls and spinning each ringlet around his index finger to give them the definition and bounce he’s so well-known for. Here he is, finishing up his post-shower routine as all of his friends mill around downstairs in his living room, waiting for him to come down so they can pack into his car and head out for the weekly hunt at whatever establishment has been deemed fit for the night. And here he is, taking his sweet time so he can be the signature pain in the ass that everyone hates to love. 

Once Harry has thoroughly coated all of his hair with the fluffy white cream, he pulls out his hair-dryer from the cabinet below his sink, snapping its accompanying diffuser into place and flipping his head upside down. He carefully scrunches his curls to his roots with the attachment, moving in thoughtful circles as he hums to the rhythm of a song he can’t be bothered to remember the name of. Staring down at his polished jet black heeled boots, he absentmindedly taps against the porcelain ground to the beat of the music, sighing wistfully as warm air circulates its way across his scalp. 

Harry turns his shoes to the side, admiring the detailing along the back of the heel. Across the curved surface is the word SUCKER, bedazzled onto the article with multicolored jewels, glitzing beautifully under the fluorescent lighting of his bathroom. The shoes had been a gift from a friend with connections in high places; more specifically, connections to the man who sits on the throne of the Gucci brand. Harry hadn’t questioned the present when he’d received it— only an idiot would bat a cautious eye at such a luxury. He’d fallen in love with them the second they landed in his palms, decked out in a gorgeous satin box and wrapped with sparkly black tissue paper. The only words that had dared leave his lips were, “Fuck, I think I just got hard.”

The shoes had fit like a charm, and he had wanted to save them for a special occasion. But given that he has hundreds of years worth of special occasions lined up for his future, he’d shrugged off his pickiness and yanked them out the back of his closet for tonight. What better way to show them off than at an overhyped disco hall? 

Harry flips his head right-side up once again, ruffling his fingers through his soft, shiny curls to check for any wet patches or stringiness. He rolls up the wire to his styling tool and puts it back in its designated spot, grabbing his favorite paddle brush and attentively filtering it through his hair until he gets the tousled waves that he’s grown so fond of sporting. He musses them until he’s satisfied with his appearance, nodding at himself casually in the mirror as he proceeds to wrap up the last few necessities he has left. 

Harry buttons his blouse, admiring it in the fogged mirror. It’s a flowy sheer black piece with holographic threads sewn through its expanse, the fabric continuously shimmering with every shift of his muscles from underneath. He leaves the last three holes empty to better show off the dark butterfly inking on his lean chest and the swallows suspended in flight along his collarbones. He doesn’t really have to leave the shirt open, given that the material is see-through to the point where it leaves very little to the imagination, obvious in how all the tattoos along his arms are clearly visible. But he does it either way— he likes it when people stare. He’s got the assets, he might as well flaunt them.

Harry loosely tucks the hem of the shirt along the brim of his high-waisted beige slacks, which he’d ironed with precision to an ideal fold. He opts out of a belt tonight, wanting to display the array of elegant buttons that line the front of his pleated trousers. The pants hang slightly flared around his ankles, and if someone’s interests were intent enough, they might catch a glimpse of his favorite socks underneath the cusps, the words FUCK IT printed across the dark cotton fabric. He always makes sure to have an aspect in his outfit that could make for neat conversation.  

The vampire pulls out one of his drawers, ghosting his fingers over his collection of jewelry before picking out a pearl necklace and his father’s gold-plated cross necklace, as well as a colorful array of rings. He makes sure to retrieve the most significant two, as always— his lionhead amethyst daylight ring and his mother’s opal. He never goes anywhere without them. 

After he’s slipped on those accessories, bending and stretching his fingers for good measure and feeling everything settle into place, he picks out the gold cross earring that matches his necklace. It used to be part of a pair that belonged to his sister. As he watches the gold twinkle in the artificial light, he briefly wonders what happened to its twin, but pushes the thought away before it leads him down a path of pessimistic speculations. 

Harry loops the dangly piece through his earlobe, sighing through his nose as his gaze jets around his entire look, searching for any possible faults he could tend to that would prolong the inevitable— another night of drunken morons and thick synthetic smoke. 

Harry decides to fold the cuffs of his shirt up to his elbows, knowing that it makes his veiny forearms look appealing. He rummages through his selection of colognes before deciding to go with his trusty Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, spritzing a bit along specific pressure points on his neck where a pulse would otherwise be present, following along with the insides of his wrists. The scent of cloves, sugar-frosted vanilla, and cedar wood envelope him in a warm ambiance. After that task is complete, he fusses with his necklaces for a minute or so, settling the cross between his pectorals and resting the rosey pearls across his clavicle, fingering at their smooth surface in thought. Much to his defeat, everything seems to be in order, down to his freshly lacquered black nails. It’s not his fault he’s nearly flawless. His long— and unfortunate— extension on life had given him a plethora of years to work himself into a state of physical perfection. There’s only so much one can do to their appearance before it becomes superiorly stagnant. 

Harry tunes his heightened hearing for a second, listening in to the conversation his friends are entertaining on the first level of his condo. Niall’s voice is the first one that comes through, unsurprisingly. He’s always the loudest and has zero filter, present in how he’s freely ranting about Harry’s exaggerated mannerisms as he paces back and forth across the floor, footsteps heavy. No one seems to be paying him any mind— As usual, Harry thinks to himself, snorting softly— because everyone appears to be caught up in their own personal lives, too lost in gossip and exchanging opinions to give the Irish vampire any thought. 

None of his gang seem bothered by his lack of rush, but Harry knows he can’t keep them waiting forever. Fridays are the day they’d all collectively agreed to hunt together and it had been as so for almost twenty years. Being the leader, Harry can’t let his childish distaste for nightlife get in the way of what’s best for the group. He needs to hunker down on his selfish inclinations and be a responsible friend, or else a human might not be the only person Niall sinks his fangs into tonight.

With one final lingering stare at his reflection, Harry goes to retrieve his phone from its face-down position on the dark marble counter, simultaneously reaching for the light switch to begin powering down his apartment for the next couple of hours until he returns. Hopefully with a pretty girl hanging off his arm and less of a burn in the back of his throat. Although Harry may be cynical, he’s also practical; if he’s going to have to spend eternity on this planet, he may as well try to conserve enough energy to make it bearable. After decades of adjusting to electricity, the last thing Harry wants is to return to candlelit rooms and going to bed in time with the sun. 

The sudden chime that shrieks from his device causes him to jump a tad, brows furrowing in mild confusion for a few reasons. First, because it’s such an odd coincidence that right as he went to grasp it, his smartphone had gone off; it’s almost spooky. Second, because anyone who would normally dare message him at this hour is currently sequestered downstairs on the cushions of his sectional sofa, waiting for him to emerge from his room. Who else could possibly need to contact him this late, especially at the beginning of the weekend? 

Harry flips his red iPhone curiously (yes, he’d bought it in red for the purpose of irony), peering down at the unknown number shining back up at him from the screen. 

The text is simple enough: Hey, accompanied by three disco ball emojis. 

After a few seconds of blank blinking and adamantly searching through his mind for a clue as to who this could be, the answer smacks him square between the eyes. The memories come to him in quick flashes. 

A bald bouncer with a stupid name. A two-story room with seven foot tall speakers and a bar nuzzled in the corner. A group of loud, tipsy girls in stilettos and glittery dresses. One girl, sitting amidst the ruckus looking alone and indifferent while everyone around her gave into inebriated chaos. Mitch urging him to go talk to her. The overwhelming smell of honey and lavender. Gentle caresses placed across the tattoos painting his arms. Pretty lips the color of fresh blood, drained glasses of liquor, and witty banter exchanged between suggestive glances and cheeky grins. Shouldering through a crowded dance floor with the young woman in tow. Settling her into the passenger’s seat of his Cadillac and feeling heat explode across his cold cheeks when she’d yanked him down by his collar, kissing him like his lips were her only source of air. 

A quaint apartment complex, flickering lights in a corridor, and a worn couch. A warm mouth, smudged lipstick, teary eyes, and the gentle, shaky echo of, “I want to make you feel good.” High-waisted silk pants discarded on the floor, a cream lace blouse, and pastel pink lingerie. Thighs squeezing his head as her sweet taste spilled across his tongue. The mortal’s bare back pressed to his chest as he worked his hips roughly into her, mumbling dirty promises against her ear. Sugary whimpers and needy pleads. The warm, tangy flavor of her blood filling his mouth and sedating the burning in his throat. Childish giggles shared in a tiny flat, her warm fingers sewing between his icy own and tugging him into her room. A sleepless night full of steady breaths and only one heartbeat. A stupid tapestry and an ugly popcorn ceiling. A late morning strewn with sarcastic jokes mumbled over the rim of a coffee mug. Pulling his favorite t-shirt over his head and inhaling the sweet smell that had been glued to every thread. 

Making a drastic decision and typing his information into her phone. 

Harry doesn’t mean to speak aloud, but the name slips down his tongue as easily as he’d drawn moans from hers. “Y/N.”

It’s not like he didn’t remember her, because he did. And it’s not like he hadn’t thought of her since, because he had. But it’d been in passing and barely relevant— faint recollections in the form of fleeting seconds. 

He’d thought of her a couple days ago, when he’d been wandering around the mall with his friends. They’d passed by a candle shop where, among all the mixed scents, there had been the unmistakable aroma of lavender and honey somewhere inside, smelling vaguely like her. She’d unwillingly made her way to the forefront of his mind when he’d gone to do laundry, picking out his baby blue Marc Jacobs t-shirt from his hamper and feeling his eyes dilate and fangs protrude— a result of animalistic instinct. As it turns out, she had left a bloodstain along the inside of the yellow collar of his tee. It was dried and crusted over by the time he found it, but the effect it had on him remained the same as the night he’d drawn it fresh from one of her arteries. He’d chucked the garment into the wash carelessly with hardly any hesitation. 

The girl had even elbowed into his brain during an important self-care session. He’d been sitting in his glorified bathtub— which, in shallow honesty, is just a jacuzzi— with his cock twitching in his palm while his head hung over the edge, an orgasm teetering along the trench of his stomach as he’d repeatedly thumbed over his tip. When he’d finally coaxed himself into a climax, moans running freely across the empty halls of his home, the image he saw in those short moments of pure bliss was of her. It was Y/N, sitting in front of him with her hands clasped between her bare thighs obediently, his prick running along the length of her warm tongue as her eyes pleaded for him to cum. 

But, as he’d stated before, the picture had only lasted a handful of seconds. As soon as his high had died down, it had disintegrated to ash, and he’d been left with a slightly startled mental imprint in its wake, which had faded away within minutes. He hadn’t thought of her since. 

That is, until now. Until the surface of his jade eyes are reflecting the message his phone had just received at nearly ten P.M., her identity obvious in her choice of emojis. 

A disco ball. The exact same character he’d assigned himself beside his name in her contact list. It was an inside joke; a result of the hatred they both shared for clubs, juxtaposed by the fact that they had met in one. It was a cute determining factor in their minimal acquaintanceship, and he’s always a sucker for a good paradox. 

Harry continues to stare down at the text message, trying to conjure up some type of answer. She couldn’t have caught him at a better time, quite literally. She could be his saving grace tonight, if he plays his cards right. Maybe if he swoons her enough, she’ll invite him over again, and he can avoid another night full of shit-faced idiots and blinding strobe lights. 

After careful consideration, he swipes open into their new text conversation and taps back a reply he deems appropriate, satisfied with how it shows his personality— the same one the mortal girl had been so taken with upon their first encounter. 

Well, this is awkward. I don’t remember giving my number to a disco ball.

The vampire waits idly for a response, watching as the message delivers and is immediately marked by a read receipt. He doesn’t know why, but he likes that she has them on. 

A swift pause follows— in which he has no doubt she’s probably attempting to come up with some type of witty remark to his— and then the three grey bouncing bubbles pop up, signifying that she’s typing back. His device bloops with her response, vibrating in his large palms.

Funny as ever, I see. It’s Y/N, from the club last Friday. 

Harry’s slightly disappointed by her humor-lacking answer, but he’ll keep the interaction going for curiosity’s sake. Some people are fun in person and just not that bright virtually. Can’t always have it all.

Oh, hey, Y/N! So are you translating on behalf of the disco ball that wanted to talk to me or…?

He can practically see her eye rolling up at the grungy ceiling of her room and that notion makes his lips twitch. 

Ha. Ha. Hilarious! But no, I’M the one who wants to talk to you, actually.

Harry can feel her sarcastic tone through this specific message and that gives him hope. Maybe she does have social networking skills. 

Oh. Well, give the disco ball my best regards then, will you? Don’t want it to think I’m being rude and casting it aside.

The creature can’t see it, but now Y/N’s lips are the ones jolting as she sits on her bed in nothing but a towel, damp hair beading water down her naked shoulders and back.

How caring of you! I’ll pass on the message.

A full grin begins to edge across Harry’s cheeks as she returns his banter just as easily as she would face to face, dimples threatening to indent into place. That’s more like it. 

His fingers poise over the keyboard, mind flicking through the different scenarios he could steer this conversation towards. He has to be perceptive and respectful, but also keep her entertained. He figures asking about her intentions is the best route to take, but he’ll do it subtly. Being too direct could come off pushy. 

So...what gives me the honor of basking in your presence tonight, hm?

He adds a thinking face emoji to the end of the text as an afterthought. He rarely uses emoticons, but now is as good a time as any to start, especially because he has to seem like someone who belongs to her generation, rather than a Victorian era immortal.

Well, you said if I wanted more interior design advice to shoot you a text so...here I am, seeking your expertise.

Harry allows himself to break into a wide simper at the shrouded compliment. It goes right to his ego, just as he likes it. She’s smart. 

My expertise, huh? I take it that my taste in wallpaper left you pretty satisfied last time, then?

A similar grin buckles Y/N’s face at his playful smugness and she bites into the side of her index finger to try and suppress it. After a moment of thought, she releases her digit from between her teeth and taps back. 

Very satisfied, yeah. Your help was greatly appreciated.

Harry scoffs coyly, leaning his shoulder against the lightly fogged black marble wall of his bathroom, his friends and plans for the night all but forgotten. He’s having too much fun flirting to pay anything else much mind. 

My pleasure, love. I’d be more than happy to give it again, anytime you need it. Just make sure to fill out the customer service survey my boss emailed you. I’m shooting for a raise and could really use the brownie points. 

“Cute.” Y/N murmurs to herself in amusement, her chest fluttering as a result of the pet name, alongside how well they’re getting on. It’s almost like no time has passed at all. Almost as if they’re friends. 

She’d been nervous to reach out, fearing that he’d see it and ignore her— or worse, leave her on read. Needless to say, this is going way better than she could’ve hoped

Already filled that out. Gave you five stars and everything. Would’ve given you six if it was allowed. 

Harry shifts his weight against the surface he’s using for support, chuckling softly as he gnaws along the inside of his cheek. He feels like a teenager with all of this borderline childish back-and-forth. He’s not mad about it, though. It’s pretty enjoyable. 

Thank you so much for your input! It’s taken into deep consideration. VERY deep consideration, if I recall correctly.  

Warmth pours into Y/N’s cheeks at his innuendo, and she somewhat hates that he can get her all flustered without actually being present. He’s really good at this. A true lucky strike, to put it in his own words.

I’m glad my standards are held so highly, especially since I’m trying to book another advising appointment with you. 

Is that so?

Very much so. How about tonight, if you’re free? I’ve got a dire situation with some wood paneling that I just can’t handle alone.

The vampire’s irises flare crimson red in triumph. It looks like he won't have to put himself through another mortifying ordeal tonight, after all. 

I’m on a tight schedule, Y/N. These expertise are highly sought after, yanno?

Y/N snorts at his pompous joke. “Moron.”

Another text comes in from Harry before she can even think of a response.

However, I think I might be able to squeeze you in for a help session today. Say in about 10 to 15 minutes? 

With newly brightened eyes, Y/N gives the message five repasses to make sure she’d interpreted it correctly. She can’t believe he’d agreed, especially at an hour when most people already have weekend plans cemented for the night. And by the length of time he’d given her to prepare, she’s extremely thankful she’d decided to shower prior to attempting a booty-call. 

Sounds perfect. Do you need me to send you my address or do you remember, by some miracle?

Don’t worry about it, pet. I have a pretty good memory of that night. You made it hard to forget. 

Another layer of heat crawls up her neck and into her ears. She knows this is a casual thing, at best, but for some reason, the idea that he had deemed her unforgettable makes her entire body feel like it’s glowing. She tries to brush it off, chalking up his compliment to how they’d seen each other barely a week ago so of course he remembered. It was fairly fresh in both their minds. 

But Y/N is from an area where she was just another face in the crowd— another timid girl in an ocean of a hundred small-town carbon copies— and she’d certainly never referred to herself as anything particularly special. To have Harry, who is such a refined and attractive person, who most likely has dozens of hook-ups under his belt, call her that? Of all people? It just hits differently. 

She shakes herself out of her head, remembering that a very interesting boy is waiting for a response on the other end of her phone.

Alright, then. See you in 10 to 15 minutes, Mr…? 

Y/N comes to the realization that she doesn’t even know his last name. She doesn’t know the last name of the guy she’d let into her house and between her legs. God, if her parents could see her now...They’d blow California into a crater. 

The name’s Styles. Harry Styles. 

She immediately recognizes the reference, chewing at her bottom lip to keep a tab on a girly giggle. It’s probably not healthy how easily he reduces her into such a dopey puddle. 

Alright, then, Mr. Harry Styles. See you soon?

Very soon. Can’t wait to show you the wood samples I just found.

With a sly smirk dimpling his cheeks, Harry pushes off the elegant stone wall of his luxury bathroom, locking his device and absentmindedly tapping it along his palm as he does a quick mind-sweep of the interaction he’d just had. He’s going to get his needs taken care of—both intimate and carnal— by a girl with whom he meshes with so well, no less. This night has taken an unexpected turn for the better, and he’s never been more thankful for making such a rash decision the morning after a one night stand. 

The shrill boom of an Irish accent breaks Harry out of his flirty stupor, the sound bounding up the stairs of his flat and echoing off the tiles in his bathroom. “Harry, did you fucking desicate up there, you prick?!”

The vampire’s head snaps to the side towards where the sudden intrusion is originating, clearing his throat softly before answering, mostly to anchor himself back into the present. He’d been too busy floating in a daydream bubble to give his friends any proper attention. “I’m on my way down!”

Harry flicks off the light switch to his master bathroom, heading into his dimly lit bedroom and scooping up his wallet from its usual spot on top of the dresser. He tucks it into the wide front pocket of his slacks along with his cell phone, rounding the king-sized mattress at the center of his space, footsteps muffled by the thick maroon carpeting across the ground. He stops under the doorframe, giving his room one last calculating glance to make sure he isn’t leaving anything important behind. Once the creature is sure he’s set, he reaches over and slides the switch meter all the way down until the hanging lamps on the ceiling fade to black. 

Harry clambers down the glass and metal staircase, passing the collection of original paintings organized across the expanse of the largest wall in his home. His friends spot him from the huge couch once he’s halfway down the steps, and of course Niall is the first to make his presence audible.

“Fucking finally.” The blue-eyed vampire groans in exasperation, shooting up from his seat beside Xander, arms falling across his lean chest. “I thought you’d died. Really died.”

Harry dismounts the last stair carefully, heeled boots making a soft clicking sound against the polished light-wash wood of his floorboards. He pushes a few rogue curls out of his eyes, the corners of his mouth jilting upwards teasingly as he regards the fellow immortal. “If I have to keep staring at that shitty paisley button-up you’re wearing, I just might.”  

Niall’s irritated expression shatters into one of sheer hurt, hands fumbling with the silk fabric of his shirt, lips melting into a pained pout as he contemplates it sadly. His tone comes out whiney and defensive. “Hey! I really like this one!”

Harry side-steps the boy, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Your fashion sense makes me question my friendship with you.”

Niall’s face pinches with anger, thick brows furrowing as he roughly swats the brunette’s wrist away. “And your dickhead attitude makes me question mine.” 

Harry’s jade eyes dance with evil glee as he returns his palm to where it had been resting before to give a curt squeeze, his rings playfully digging into the muscle beneath Niall’s top. “And yet here you are, sitting on my couch, waiting to get into my car. Funny how that works, innit? We benefit from one another. Mutualism at its finest.”

The Irish man shrugs himself free of his friend’s hold once again, glaring at him with darkening eyes, but there’s no true malice behind it. “More like parasitism.” 

“So are you two gonna kiss now or what?” Mitch’s soft, mocking voice butts in as he drifts up beside Niall, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark denim straight jeans and his long hair tied back into a low ponytail. He’s wearing a light-wash Rolling Stones t-shirt he’d gotten at a concert he and Harry had attended back in the eighties, along with a pair of scuffed up sneakers. Pretty casual for a club— too casual, in Harry’s opinion. “The sexual tension is killing the audience.” 

The green-eyed boy cranes his sight back onto Niall, raising his eyebrows in question and puckering his lips. “What d’you say, Ni? Wanna kiss this little disagreement better? I’m down.”

The pale young man makes a gagging noise, stepping away. “Don’t know where your mouth’s been. But if your bed fellows have anything to say about it, it’s nowhere good. I’m going to respectfully decline.” 

“There was absolutely nothing respectful in that response.” Adam chimes in, chuckling as he bumps Niall’s shoulder with his own, hands clasped casually behind his back. “You need to work on your people skills.”

“My people skills are fine.” Niall quips back sarcastically. “Harry just isn’t a person, he’s a demon.” 

“Technically, we all are.” The curly-haired vampire points out, walking over to his matte leather couch and retrieving a pin-striped, grey-black fitted blazer from its backrest. He tosses the jacket over his shoulders, shrugging it on and fixing the material over his torso, the curves of the piece accentuating the strong muscles of his back and the dip of his slender waist. “I just don’t care to hide it, really. Especially not when it comes to Niall’s taste in clothes. Which is rubbish, by the way. If that wasn’t clear before.”

“It was.” Niall deadpans, gaze half-lidded and petty.

Harry fixes the sleeves of his coat around his forearms, smoothing out any wrinkles and buttoning the cuffs. He momentarily ducks into the kitchen, his enhanced eyesight spotting the small digital time-stamp of the oven even from across the room. He has less than thirteen minutes before he has to be at Y/N’s flat. He should’ve suggested a longer time span.

Harry turns back around to fully face his crew, situating his collar into place by folding it along the back of his neck, appraising their expectant appearances. They’re all waiting for him. He’s the one driving, after all. 

The immortal clears his throat, hands dropping to pat at his blazer pocket, making sure that his keys are in his possession. He sighs lightly through his nose, a knowing grin trying to force its way onto his lips but he keeps it at bay, wanting to maintain a straight expression to garner less backlash for the news he’s about to break. 

“I’m not going.”

The pause that fills the atmosphere and the blank faces his friends dote are almost comical. Harry bats his eyelashes at them without a single twitch or jerk of his features. He wants them to understand he’s being serious.

After at least ten heartbeats— a guess, considering no one in the room has one to provide an accurate measurement— a raging exclamation explodes from behind the other three vampires in front of him. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Harry watches in mild amusement as Xander stomps up from behind the group, shouldering between Mitch and Adam and sticking him with a glower dark enough to instill fear in any living being. But Harry is hardly living, and he’s definitely not scared of a vampire who’s practically a newborn. Xander’s the youngest of them in terms of the immortality scale— he’d transitioned back in nineteen ninety-six when he was thirty, which gives the illusion that he’s older when in reality, he isn’t— so Harry’s strength easily outmatches his. Xander is basically the puppy of the circle, and he’s certainly yappy and annoying enough to support that title. His lack of age and wisdom is also probably why he’s the most explosive. 

Harry kinks an eyebrow up at the taller, tanned man, looping only one button through its designated hole in the middle of his jacket. That will allow him to show off what lies beneath it while also making sure the article won’t be a pest in the windy California night. “I’m not kidding. Something else came up that...peaked my interest.”

Xander’s fists momentarily clench by his sides and he then folds his arms across his lightly heaving chest, trying to hide his anger away along the insides of his elbows. He spits his words through gritted teeth, attempting to keep his cadence level. “What could have possibly come up so late that you only let use know after we waited for you for over an hour?”

Harry can’t stop himself from smirking this time around, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards with condescension. The statement that he produces is all too familiar to Xander, given that it mirrors the reply he had used on Harry exactly a week ago, when the leader of the group had asked him what his intentions were once they’d gotten inside their club for the night. “I have a date.”  

Xander’s entire face flushes a faint shade of cherry red. His forearms tighten across his body, tone more strained than before as he actively wills himself to remain calm. “A date?”

The shorter vampire smiles at him with fake innocence, working his every nerve like it’s his job. Harry doesn’t know why, but pissing Xander off is always such a delectable pastime. “Yup. With a girl I met last week, actually.”

“You don’t go on dates.” Niall pipes up, looking around at the other men in the room in confusion, almost as if his comment should be obvious. “You rarely even spend the night. Said so yourself.” 

Harry shrugs one shoulder indifferently, checking his reflection in the closest section of the glass wall that overlooks the city skyline, the lights of the cars and buildings below twinkling otherworldly. “I guess it’s less a date and more a booty-call, to be honest. I only agreed ‘cause it’s easier than having to drag my ass to that horrid club you chose to spend hours trying to find someone. This meal’s already prim, proper, and served. And I know for a fact I’ll enjoy it, so there’s no real harm.” 

He turns back to Xander, the man’s peeved reaction tickling him more than he thought it would. “What was that you said last time, Xanny?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Oh, yeah! I'm just grabbing a to-go box for my already prepped meal.”

Harry’s friend’s cheeks dye a deeper shade of crimson, dark veins webbing across the iridescent whites of his eyes for a flickering second. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

Harry counters the angry expression with a bright smile, his dialect dripping with arrogance. “Girls dig it. And you seemed to dig it, too, if I recall correctly. Remember? You might not. Post-orgasm amnesia and all that.” 

Xander takes a measured inhale, releasing it slowly and allowing his anger to ebb away gradually, ignoring Harry’s blast from the past. His next question is physically directed towards their ex-chauffeur, but is truly aimed at the gang as a whole. “Who’s going to take us, then?”

The curly-haired vampire shrugs his shoulders once again, uninterested in the topic that is quickly growing old. “You could take Niall’s car. Problem solved.”

The whole clique lives in the same condo complex, mostly due to convenience. It’s already tricky for vampires to find others of their kind, so it’s a miracle that they’d all managed to end up together in the first place. And it’s an even bigger miracle that they got along well enough to form a tight-knit coven, which is the closest thing any of them now have to family. Living in close proximity is the ideal way of maintaining that rare bond, plus it allows them to help each other in staying safe and keeping their urges in line. 

Since they all live in the same building, Niall’s car is in the garage right beside Harry’s, so transportation shouldn’t be an issue. They just always take his vehicle because he’s the only one that actually enjoys driving. 

“Are you mental? Like actually, genuinely insane?” Xander sputters in appalled shock. “Niall drives like a lunatic!” 

“Oi, piss off! Maybe you should learn to drive then, huh? Instead of having all those guys you shag take you everywhere.”

Xander ignores Niall’s insult, putting his palms up in disgust, backing away. “I refuse to get in a car with him behind the wheel. Dying once was good enough for me.”

“Did I miss the memo?” Niall snaps, glimpsing around at all the monsters standing around him, attitude tight with annoyance. “Y’know, the one where you all just decided to shit on me tonight?”

Harry bursts into an airy cackle, listing his head to the side as he gives Niall a humorous once-over, his dangly cross earring dabbing across the crisp cut of his coat’s shoulder blade. “You don’t necessarily make it hard, love.” 

Niall’s jaw clenches as he narrows his icy blue eyes. “Xander’s right— you are an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, he’s also right about you driving like you’re on tranquilizers.” Adam sighs, running a palm up his face, using his index finger and thumb to massage either of his temples, despite the fact that they lack a pulse. “I guess I could drive? I hate it, but Mitch hates it more, so I’m our best bet. Better than Road Runner over here.” 

“Yeah, just keep talking about me like I’m not present. That’s fine. I’m spitting venom in all your drinks tonight.” 

“Well,” Harry boasts abruptly, interrupting the game of verbal ping-pong happening in front of him, taking a quick peek at his phone for the time. As much as he loves causing some good-natured chaos between his friends, he has less than ten minutes to make it to Y/N’s apartment on time and traffic’s a bitch at this hour. “I have nothing to do with this anymore, so I’m just gonna take my leave. You lot have fun figuring this out.” 

He swivels around on his heel, striding away with his usual haughty air straightening his back, heading towards the corridor that leads to the front entrance of the apartment. The softly lit hallway swallows his silhouette and for the first time since he’d left the secluded confines of his bathroom, he allows a giddy smile of excitement to tweak his lips. Just for a second and not a moment longer. If his friends had seen it, they would’ve taken the piss.

Niall’s accent cuts through the air, prickling at his ears as the glossy, cold doorknob comes into contact with his even colder fingers. “I can’t believe you’d abandon us just to get laid!”

“Lock the door on your way out!” 

///

When a sharp knock echoes across Y/N’s flat, she nearly screams. 

Her nerves have been on edge since the last text she’d received; only after reading that final cheeky message had the reality of the situation hit. 

This isn’t her. This isn’t her at all.

Inviting a total stranger into her home and into her bed was something she’d never experienced before last week. One night stands were very few and very far for her— she could count all the ones she’d had on a single hand, and even then they had been with people she had known to some extent— and it was due to the fact that this type of situation is slathered in mystery and unsureness. Giving herself up in such an intimate manner to someone she wasn’t acquainted to in some shape or form…It comes with a certain amount of risk, both physically and emotionally, which is why she hardly ever engaged in such activities before Harry.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with having that type of exhilarating fun in your life— she praises the women who can go around so confidently and express their sexuality however they please— but she herself had been raised under a roof that was moderate and conservative, and that environment had molded her into the person she had grown up to be. Those traditional concepts ran through the core of her being, and no matter how hard she tried to shake them, they refused to break loose. They weighed on her shoulders, constantly making her second-guess her motives and desires, most of which go against the status quo that had been implemented into her brain from a young age. This— whatever this is— is a huge step for her; it’s the first attempt she’s made to take over her own life and go against the grain she’d been accustomed to her whole existence. 

From the second Y/N had arrived here in Los Angeles and set a foot off the plane, she had been alone. Everyone who cared for her was miles and miles away and she was starting a new chapter on a completely blank page, with no one to guide her hand as she wrote. For the two months she’d spent settling in and trying to meld into her new environment, she had gone at it with a sense of emptiness hollowing the pit of her stomach. No one was there to comfort her during the rough patches, and no one cared enough yet to assure her that things would turn out alright. No one had bothered to tell her she was safe and that nothing would hurt her. No one made themselves available the way people did back home. 

That is, until she met Harry seven days ago. 

Their encounter had been purely for sexual gratification, but during that short time they shared, she vividly remembered him telling her that she could trust him. It was a preposterous statement to make— asking someone to trust you when you didn’t even know their last name— but the gaze in his emerald eyes had seemed so genuine and encouraging, and his voice had been so gentle and soothing, and his touch had been so delicate and consoling...That strange young man— with the pretty curls, intriguing tattoos, and dazzling smile— had somehow managed to untie the knot of unease that had been sitting in her belly for the last couple of weeks. She’s stumped on how he’d managed to wriggle it free; the only thing she can effectively say took a part in it was his eyes. There was just such a glass-like quality to them that reminded her of a mirror. It was like they were reflecting all her emotions back at her, using their familiarity to compel her into a state of mental peace. She’d appreciated it more than she’d let on. 

Something tells Y/N that this is the reason she had contacted him. She wanted to feel that safety net he had provided her with once again. She didn’t need an emotional connection from Harry, she just needed a bit of mental relief. She wanted something to take her mind off all her troubles. Something to distract her, even if it was only for a few hours. And with the way Harry had handled her last time, she knows he’s more than capable of helping her reach those goals. 

Y/N doesn’t think anyone has ever made her feel how Harry had that semi-drunken Friday night. She’d been with a few other people before, and had even been in a long-term relationship with someone she had once thought would end up being her husband, but none of those men came close to this peculiar stranger. 

In the town she was from, it was typical for people to marry their high school sweethearts. It was a small region where everyone either knew one another or knew of one another, so it wasn’t difficult to find someone that could fit into the role that needed to be filled. The person she had found was a boy by the name of Bradley, who she had begun to date their freshman year of high school. 

They’d met through mutual friends and he’d invited her to their first ever homecoming dance, where she had felt like everything was falling into place almost like in a movie. He was cute, with hazel eyes, sun-bleached hair, and freckles that jolted every time he laughed. He was polite, funny, and treated her with enough respect and dignity to keep her hooked for a while. Things had gone pretty well the four years they were together in high school; their relationship wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exciting either. It was just...secure. He was there, and he was willing to give her his attention, and that’s all that really mattered to her at the time. She thought that was all she needed. 

Then graduation came and went, and so did Bradley. He left for college, set on the intention that they would make long distance work somehow. To keep a long story short, it hadn’t worked out how they expected. As the months passed, she noticed he started to separate himself from her more and more. The video chats are what disappeared first; what used to be a daily FaceTime call turned into a weekly one and then, if she was lucky, a monthly one. Phone calls followed the same fate. Texting became a chore rather than something to look forward to and she could feel him slipping, which left her feeling helpless because he was in another state, far away and too out of reach to appropriately solve anything. Energized conversations slowly faltered into five-word messages, which eventually teetered into barely any communication at all. 

When Y/N heard the news that he’d cheated on her, it didn’t even come from him. It came from his roommate. Things ended swiftly after that, which was the saddest thing of all. Almost five years of her life, completely gone to waste. Handling the pain was a whole other misery she’d had to shoulder, alongside the embarrassment and humiliation, which stemmed from the fact that she was aware her peers had heard about the whole ordeal. With the help of her family and friends, she’d eventually gotten over the heartbreak. The weird thing is, she doesn’t think she loved him. She loved the idea of him— loved that he represented everything she had been raised to seek in a relationship. They’d grown up together, their families knew one another, they shared the same friends, they had common hobbies. It was like a match made in heaven, though after it broke off, she quickly came to the realization that it hadn’t been made in heaven at all. Made in a test tube was a more fitting analogy. 

Y/N’s love life after that painfully slow cliche disaster consisted of random boys around town she recognized from school and work. The hook-ups were fleeting and hardly satisfying, but at least they were something. She soon found out that she could do better on her own, but whenever she craved someone else’s touch, she was grateful to have anyone she could get. She’d mainly stuck to the same guys for the sake of consistency; it was easier having people she already knew how to please and vice versa, though she’ll admit it was mostly a one way street. Men can be so clueless sometimes that it’d be funny if it wasn’t so irritating. 

Then Y/N had skipped town and closed off sexually for a while. She had stayed shut down until Harry had walked into her life with that stupid sly smirk and his unorthodox— yet surprisingly attractive—fashion sense, sipping straight tequila like a fucking psycho from the cup in his jeweled fingers. He’d waltzed right onto the stool beside her at the bar, right out of the club with her hand in his, and then right past the doorframe of her apartment, kindly gifting her the best sex of her entire life. He’d worked her every desire with a certain skill and awareness she had never experienced (not from any of her past lovers, and definitely not from Bradley’s vanilla tendencies), dismantling her body as if he’d known her for decades, leaving her sore and aching in a way she didn’t know was humanly possible.

And now here Y/N is, pacing back and forth from her small living room to her even smaller kitchen, chewing along the knuckle of her forefinger as she tries to tie down the jitters running amuck in her belly. 

She repeatedly smooths down the dress she’s wearing, claiming that it’s to get rid of the wrinkles, but in truth, it’s to wipe the dampness from her palms. The outfit had been a birthday present from her cousin the year before and she’s rarely worn it since the move, which is a direct result of her lack of socializing. She only ever really leaves her home for groceries and to attend work, neither of which call for a pretty sundress and strappy tan sandals. Despite having gone out to the club a few times, the dress doesn’t fit that scene either. LA gets a bit chilly at night and she has yet to grow accustomed to the city’s weather. Wearing this after-hours would surely end with her acquiring a mild case of hypothermia. 

The garment is a light blue baby doll design, littered with tiny daffodil prints of varying shapes and colors. It stops about three-fourths down her thigh, fluttering outwards in layered flares, its bandeau-style top held in place by thin straps of the same fabric. She figured she’d deck herself out nicely; from the one interaction she’d had with Harry, she can tell he’s a person of refined taste. It was evident in his expensive clothing and his wide variety of precious rings. She doesn’t know why, but there’s a toiling in the pit of her tummy urging to impress him. 

Y/N’s hair has been freshly washed and blow-dried, her legs thoroughly shaved into silk, and she’d applied a light layer of makeup, done in anticipation that anything heavier would likely end up smeared across her face— a result of sweat and Harry’s dominant persona. Simply reflecting on his commanding sensual presence makes her self-pedicured toes curl in her sandals. 

Y/N hadn’t been sure on how to prepare for his arrival. She wasn’t versed in advanced hook-up culture— her raunchiest experience was in the backseat of someone's 2004 Toyota Corolla. She doesn’t want to get this wrong. Going overboard would make him feel smothered and awkward, but underselling would give him the impression that she doesn’t have any respect for him, save for what lies between his legs. Those are the last two things she wants him to gather from this. 

She’d settled for pulling out a bottle of red wine that had been a house-warming present from the landlord. Not too shabby, but not too loud. And who doesn’t enjoy a cup of half-decent wine on a Friday evening, right?

Y/N had just finished arranging two glasses— which she’d found at the thrift shop down the street for a steal— onto the counter of her kitchen when that swift rapping sound had broken through the tense air of her home, echoing from the front door and causing a yelp to lodge in her throat. 

Ice shoots through her veins. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She takes a handful of penetrating breaths, concentrating on how the cool air feels expanding her lungs. The technique aids in calming some of her nerves, grounding her just enough that she can will herself to move without her knees giving out. Y/N tentatively makes her way down the corridor that leads to her front door, heart hammering against her ribs. She shouldn’t be this riled up— he’s literally already been inside her. There’s pretty much nothing she can hide from him at this point. 

On the other side of the door, Harry is blissfully ignorant to the panic attack threatening to overcome Y/N. 

The vampire leans his shoulder against the frame of the somewhat raggedy door, arms crossed over his thick chest as his gaze bounces judgmentally around all the patches of peeling paint. He chews at a piece of gum— which he’d popped into his mouth on the drive over to make sure he tastes as delectable as always— in slow, lazy motions, jaw flexing as he unconsciously pops an array of tiny bubbles with his teeth, waiting for Y/N to emerge. 

Harry glances up at the flickering light bulb in the hallway of the complex, nose scrunching in distaste at the annoying flashing. She really needs to get a better place, he thinks, reaching up and dragging the pad of his middle finger along the curve of his bottom lip, absentmindedly wiping off a bit of extra chapstick that had colored outside the lines when he’d applied it. He always tries to keep his mouth soft, especially when he knows he’s going to be using it. Plus, the vanilla bean flavor pairs well with mint. 

The sound of a seal cracking open yanks his attention, the door before him slowly swinging inwards. Cool air pours from inside, bathing him in a scent that his frenzied instincts had been subconsciously craving the last couple of days. Harry cranes his neck over his shoulder, spitting his gum out and not bothering to watch where it lands. He turns back just as Y/N’s familiar figure comes into view.

The first thing he notices is the dress. 

Fuck, the dress. 

It’s nothing too fancy, just a casual sundress, but it fits her like it was made specifically for the purpose of testing his restraint. He rakes his gaze up and down her body shamelessly, much like he had on the night they met. 

The light blue background and rainbow miniature floral print compliments her skin tone nicely, making it stand out below the dingy light hanging above their heads. The piece lands about halfway down her thigh, fanning around her legs slightly in frilly folds, tempting him with that bit of innocent exposure. An image of him ripping the dress up her thighs races across the forefront of his mind and he can feel his fangs momentarily break through his gums.  

As Harry draws his sight upwards, the minimal throbbing between his legs only amplifies. The dress cinches just below her bust, accentuating her chest, and he comes to the painful realization that she’s not wearing a bra underneath; she doesn’t need it due to the bralette-like top. One simple tug of his index finger would leave her completely bare and that conclusion causes a sweltering itch to erupt along the back of his throat.

Harry’s irises finally come to rest on her face, finding that the rest of the human girl’s look appears just as it had last week. Minimal makeup, no accessories, and the smell of chamomile shampoo strung through her hair, though it’s easily smothered by her natural scent of flowers and sugar. He also finds that while he had been blatantly undressing her with his eyes, she had delighted herself in doing the same. Watching her gawk at him hungrily caresses his ego immensely, evident in how the edges of his mouth kink. 

Y/N doesn’t mean to ogle, she really doesn’t. But from the instant he’d come into view, standing there propped against her threshold with his ankles crossed and his lean arms folded over his strong chest, she couldn’t control it. He just looks so fucking good— better than last time, which she didn’t think was plausible— and she gets the feeling that he knows he looks borderline godly. 

Harry’s clad in what appears to be a sheer mesh flouncy button-up with holographic threads speckled through the material, shimmering under the dim atmosphere of the hallway. The last three holes of the shirt are left open, exposing his tanned pectorals and thoroughly inked chest. Last time they had been together, she’d been too distracted by the aching between her thighs to properly notice the swallow tattoos along his collarbones and the giant butterfly at the crest of his stomach. But now, she stares at them freely as they expand and contract with his easy breaths, her mouth beginning to water. 

The blouse is covered by a dark pinstriped blazer, the crisp shoulder blades of the jacket complimenting his broad frame as the curves dip along his waist alluringly. The loose top is tucked in along the brim of yet another pair of high-waisted trousers, though they are creme-colored instead of copper. The ironed pants give way to a pair of glossy black heeled boots, which are bedazzled along the back of the two-inch elevation, the jewels twinkling in the shape of a word that she can’t make out at this angle. 

Harry’s collection of luxurious rings and necklaces adorn their usual spots and she gets the impression that he never leaves home without them. His gold cross earring sways back and forth lightly, her warped reflection cast across its surface and staring back at her numbly. 

Harry breaks through the haze his physique had cast on her brain.

“Nice to see you again, Disco Ball.” 

A shiver slithers down her spine at the deep baritone of his voice, English accent slathered across every syllable and dripping with suggestive teasing. She’d forgotten how sultry he sounds, even when he’s not actively striving for it. 

Y/N’s attention jets up from where it had been pasted to his body, the expression across his handsome features one of snarky self-assurance, which tells her she’d been caught. Indents cave into his cheeks, twitching with glee as he bats his lashes slowly, eyes going half-lidded in amusement. He looks so sinful with those shiny ringlets curling around his small ears, framing his sharp jaw and kissing the nape of his neck, alongside those raspberry red lips and the emerald hue sparkling around his pupils. She can’t tear herself away.

After an elongated second of silence on her part, Harry raises one of his sculpted brows expectantly, letting her know he’s waiting for a response. Heat overflows Y/N’s cheeks and buzzes across the shells of her ears.

“H-Hi. Uh— Nice to see you. Too. Nice to see you, too.”

An odd sense of déjà vu flags in the back of her skull and she’s reminded that this is exactly how they’d met the first time around— with her making an utter fool of herself, much to his entertainment.

The crescent above his top lip curves upwards as a result of his grin widening. He taps the tip of his elegant shoe patiently against the cement ground, arms shifting against his chest and she can see the way his biceps strain the fabric of his coat. He’s just so fit.  

Harry’s tone comes out playful and lighthearted. He doesn’t need to be invited in again since she’s already explicitly allowed him in before, but he asks anyways, out of courtesy. “Can I come in? Or are you planning on taking me dancing or summat?”

The laugh that escapes Y/N is dense with a nervous edge, but it’s better than a stuttering jumble of incoherent words. She moves out of the way, flushing her back to the wall of the tiny entrance corridor and leaving just enough room for him to squeeze by. “Yes, come on in! Sorry.” 

“You’re alright, darling.” The tall vampire steps forward into the mortal’s home, turning sideways as he does so, chest pressing against her own. He glances down at her lips for a flash of a moment, then back to her eyes. “Thank you.”

Y/N’s grip on her doorknob tightens. She looks up at him through her lashes, bottom lip barely trembling. “No problem. Thanks for coming over on such short notice.” 

Harry runs his tongue across his teeth, pressing it to the inside of cheek as he absorbs the mildly erotic image of Y/N decked out in a frilly dress, glancing up at him shyly as her chest heaves slightly against his own. “Well, I couldn’t leave you to handle that pesky wood paneling all on your own, now could I?”

A smile ghosts over her delicate lips as she shuts the door and locks it, not breaking eye contact. “How generous of you. My hero.” 

Far from it, love.

Y/N slips out from where Harry had wedged her to the wall, beckoning him after her with a gentle turn of her head. The creature tucks his hands into his front pockets, following her down the narrow stretch. They drift past her room (he makes sure not to look in and spare himself the horror of seeing that dumb tapestry) and past her bathroom, into the expanse of her living area. It’s just as small and cozy as he remembers it and he can’t stop himself from scoffing lightly as his sight drifts over the couch. Good memories. 

“Would you like some wine?” Y/N’s question carries softly from inside her kitchen. She’s already gripping the glass bottle in her hand, attempting to pull out the cork, and she hadn’t thought of needing a wine-opener until now. Fuck. 

Harry makes his way to join her, passing underneath the archway and taking the spot across from the girl. He leans his lower back on the counter, hands remaining perched casually in his slacks. “I’d love some.”

“Great.” She huffs, twisting stubbornly at the spongy cap with all the might she can muster, the rough surface scratching her palm. “Let me just— just get this open.”

Harry’s head lists sideways as he wards off a chuckle. “Want some help?” 

Y/N releases an irritated grunt, shoulders slumping a tad as she fails to get the top loose. She holds out the bottle towards her visitor, titling it from side to side in surrender. “Be my guest.” 

The immortal pulls his hands out from his pockets, taking the container from her grasp and the human notices how they dwarf the bottle. It shouldn’t be hot, but it is. 

Harry wraps his ring-clad digits around the cork, giving it one easy twist and Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off as she hears a pop tinge the air. Harry offers her the wine and cap in return, licking his lips to avoid laughing in her face. Supernatural strength always delivers. 

“How…?” Y/N’s owlish eyes flicker back and forth between Harry’s cocky expression and the object in his hands. “How did you even...?”

The brunette gives her a nonchalant shrug. “Guess you loosened it up for me, Thor.” 

She gingerly takes the beverage and its accompaniment from his outstretched palms, blinking at him in mild shock. Her slight unease is swiftly phased out, however; a result of his cute banter. It was probably just a lucky coincidence. “I guess so.”

Y/N pours out two glasses of the dark red liquid, handing one to Harry, feeling her heart skip a beat when he wraps his hold around the stout flute and their fingers brush. He stays like that for a heartbeat, with his icy digits sifted between hers, the amber specks in his irises glittering like diamonds. Then, the moment is over and he pulls away slowly, guiding his drink up to his plush lips. She hates how he can leave her so breathless without a single hitch. 

The girl watches as Harry takes a leisurely sip of the alcohol, his gaze dancing around her kitchen curiously as she finishes recapping the bottle and scooting it into the corner of the counter. 

A thought dawns on her as soon as she focuses back onto the boy before her. Harry looks weird. He looks so weird standing in her small, dingy kitchen with its worn wooden cabinets and fake marble tabletop. He looks so out of place, dressed head to toe in designer brands and fancy fabrics, hands and neck decorated with posh jewelry, and the unmistakable smell of an expensive cologne wafting from his masculine throat. And he most certainly is out of place when it comes to who he’s associating with. He’s out of Y/N’s league, not only physically, but in his behaviors, as well. It’s so obvious it almost hurts. 

Yet here Harry is, looking polished and stylish, while she’s sporting a mere sundress that was probably bought off the clearance rack at Kohl’s. It just doesn’t mix, and she finds herself wondering why he’d chosen her in the first place. When she had voiced similar concerns the day they’d slept together, he had told her it was because she was timid and he wanted to see if he could break through that. But Y/N isn’t stupid. There has to be some other reason. Why else would a rich bachelor pay attention to a small-town runaway in a measly floral—

“I like your dress.”

Y/N glances up at Harry from where her mind had fallen, startled by the sudden interference in her dark thoughts. She’d been tracing across the slope of his structured jaw, mesmerized by how it would grow taut every time he swallowed down a gulp of his beverage. 

She had ambled so deep in her head, she barely manages to mutter a passable answer. “Oh, thank you! I’ve had it for a bit, but I barely wear it.”

The edges of the vampire’s mouth quirk around the rim of his glass, creases wrinkling along the corners of his bright eyes. “It suits you nicely. A beautiful dress on a beautiful girl.” 

Y/N’s belly somersaults, a sheepish giggle running along the undercurrent of her next mumble, so low it’s hardly audible. “Thank you. Again. Thought I’d bring it out for a special occasion.” 

Harry’s eyebrows jump upwards at her comment. He draws his wine glass from between his lips, resting it against his hard stomach and gifting the human a cheeky once-over. “So I’m a special occasion, now, am I?”

Y/N looks down at the straps of her sandals, fighting off a grin. She shrugs one shoulder offhandedly, bringing her cup to her mouth and taking a long drag of the sweet liquor, feeling it wash across her tongue and leave a warm glow in her tummy. “Maybe.” 

Harry hums teasingly in his throat, tapping his pinky pensively along the bottom of his glass, opal ring clinking against the crystalline surface. The color of his drink makes the black polish on his nails stand out almost artistically. “I’ll take any compliment I can get, especially from those pretty lips.”

Another wave of heat flushes across the apples of Y/N’s cheeks. “You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?”

The monster tips back another swig of wine, savoring the notes of wild cherry and pomegranate in its palate. Not bad, especially for what he can tell is a ten dollar bottle. 

He cocks his head to the side, irises glitzing knowingly amidst his long lashes. “I think we’re both aware that I most certainly know how to flatter a girl.” 

Y/N’s stare snaps up to lock with his, the faintest whimper stringing her vocal chords. If it wasn’t for Harry’s heightened hearing, he would have never known it’d happened. But he does, and he can feel the throb between his thighs spike as a result. The sounds she makes are just as wonderful as he remembers.

The sexual tension suspending in the room is practically palpable. After a bundle of her heartbeats— which is gradually rising in intensity— echo in his ears, he decides to speak up again. 

“I’ve been thinking about you.” 

The statement can be taken into so many different contexts and that’s why Harry chose it. She could interpret it as innocent admiration on behalf of a smitten lover, or as another layer of sensual praise. It’s versatile, successful either way. 

Y/N blinks at him exactly three times in surprise. “You have?”

She’d been thinking about him, too. Non-stop. And now that she knows it’s mutual, she doesn’t feel so nervous anymore. It reassures her that they’re on the same page of this messy novel written about their undefined association. Or that they are at least within the same chapter.  

Harry bobs his head in confirmation, indulging another sip of wine, letting it filter through his taste buds slowly. His glass is almost empty. “Mmhm. Walked past this candle store at the mall the other day and they had one burning that smelled just like you.”

His confession is sweet and it makes the tips of her fingers tingle. Y/N copies his action, taking another gulp of her beverage, attitude airy and inquisitive. “Is that so? And what do I smell like?”

Harry’s response is immediate and confident, almost as if he’s spent time thinking on the subject prior to today. “Honey and lavender.” 

Y/N nods her head in wonder, laughing gently. “That’s oddly specific.” 

Harry feels like he’s been smacked between the eyes with an iron rod. That was an idiot move. Absolutely moronic. 

He just now comes to terms with how intimate the comment he’d made had been. It suggests that he’s pondered on this topic, which gives the impression that he could be more interested in her than he actually is. He doesn’t need this loose connection turning into some type of cliche romantic comedy; he doesn’t have the space, patience, or emotional stability for it. And certainly not with someone he’s only fucked once. 

The vampire clears his throat, figuring that he can clean up this metaphorical spill by throwing a bit of crudeness at it. “Then yesterday I had a donut, yeah? One of those cream-filled ones. And when I took a bite of it, all the cream just came oozing out and I was like, ‘hm, this reminds me of someone…’”

The slightly endeared expression on Y/N’s face crumbles to dust, voice shrill and indignant at his lewd analogy. “You fucking perv!” 

Harry sputters into a round of boyish cackling, nearly wheezing when her foot reaches over and strikes him on the shin. He clasps over his stomach with his free hand, head falling back in glee as her features pinch in embarrassed disgust. He manages to speak between bursts of giggles, water gathering along his tear ducts due to how hard he’s laughing. “I’m just being honest!”  

“No, you’re being a gross little fourteen year old asshole!” Y/N exclaims incredulously, but she can’t keep herself from joining in on his boasts of amusement. 

His laughter is contagious. It’s loud and unapologetic in a manner she rarely sees in anyone and he just looks really fucking cute with his dimples jolting and smile lines creasing. It’s hard to stay mad at him, though it’s not like she’d truly been upset in the first place. 

Harry reigns himself in, inhaling deep breaths and wiping at his tears with the back of his large hand as a joyful groan rumbles in his chest. A few more giggles sneak out when he sees Y/N’s flat expression, but he manages to stifle the rest. His tone is jesting, poking fun. “If it makes you feel any better, I was respectful enough to wipe the donut down with a napkin, as well.” 

“Fuck off.”

Harry grins down snidely at the last inch or so of alcohol left in his glass, bringing it to his mouth and downing it all in one go. He places the cup down carefully on the counter behind him, his arms finding their way across his stomach, fingertips momentarily tapping at his elbows. He appraises a playfully grouchy Y/N, pursing his lips to hide a smirk. 

He watches as she takes another small taste from her drink, her pulse lulled by its contents. She’s not drunk by any means— not even buzzed— but it had helped calm the tittering in her throat that Harry had been able to detect earlier. She’s relaxed now, all anxiousness washed away by the small serving of liquor and his inappropriate (and extremely funny, if he does say so himself) jokes. 

The creature thinks it’s proper time he gets what he came for. 

“I really am glad you reached out, though.” Harry starts, an easygoing smile nudging across his alcohol-swollen mouth. “Truly.” 

Y/N snorts sarcastically, attempting to hide how his comment had made her pulse sharpen. He’d heard it anyways. “Oh, are you? Truly?”

Harry pushes himself off the edge of the counter, slowly sauntering over to Y/N, who instinctively draws back further against the tabletop behind her. She ogles at him from below heavy lashes, glass still perched between her tinted lips, excited anticipation written all over her body language. He can practically feel the heat radiating off her, rising a few notches the closer he gets. 

“Yeah.” Harry’s arms unfold, one stretching over her shoulder to prop his palm against the cupboard behind her head, the other fiddling with the seam of his blazer. He slides his forefinger and thumb along the single buttoned hole, giving it a rough tug and allowing his jacket to spring open. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun interior designing with anyone. Not for a while.” 

Y/N glimpses down at where his coat had parted, drinking up the sight of his lean torso behind the see-through material of his shirt. Now that he’s nearly pressed against her, his scent is stronger than before, burying her under smoky notes of vanilla and seasoned firewood. A familiar heat pools between her clasped thighs. 

When she pipes up, it’s shaky and whispered, covered in a dreamy undercurrent. “Yeah, me either. It felt...nice.”

Harry’s irises flash crimson for a millisecond, but she’s too occupied gawking at his tight stomach to notice. His dialect takes on a low, seductive twang, the breath of his words fanning across her face. All she can smell is wine, mint, and...vanilla chapstick? 

“It felt really nice.” 

Y/N’s view drags up to land on his lips. They look as soft and appetizing as last time, tempting her to just drop her flute onto the floor and replace it with his mouth. “Extremely nice.” 

An outside force suddenly tips her glass upwards and she realizes it’s Harry’s fingers. He nudges her cup until the liquid inside funnels towards her mouth, his intentions set on helping her finish it off. She drains the wine obediently, staring up at him dazed and moony, feeling a few drops escape along the sides of her mouth and tickle down her chin. The jade-eyed boy then gently pries the glass from her fingertips, reaching over and placing it inside her sink to be handled later. 

Y/N’s hands fall flat against his thick chest, feeling it rise and fall steadily below her grasp as he takes a step forward, their bodies completely flushing together. His palm trails up the exposed sliver of her thigh, diving a couple of inches below her dress and giving the outer area a hard squeeze. He doesn’t go any further; he won’t until she explicitly asks for it. He’s a prick about a lot of things, but never consent.

Harry leans down, running the tip of his cold nose along her clenched jaw, his warm tongue peeking out to collect the streams of wine that had dripped out. The contrast in sensations makes her knees buckle and what he murmurs hotly against her skin doesn’t help in calming those motions at all.

“Wouldn’t mind making you feel that nice again.” 

Y/N’s mind stalls, overwhelmed by his touch and smell. She can feel him sponging tender kisses at the corner of her mouth, and she can feel the palm of his hand massaging at her thigh needily. She can feel his breaths quickening in pace the longer he’s around her, and she can feel the foundation of a moan building in his lungs in the form of small vibrations, which run across her palms and twitch her fingers. She can feel everything; she’s never been more hyper-aware of her surroundings than now. And all because of this one mysterious young man. 

When Y/N finally speaks, Harry feels relief flood his system, though it is swiftly replaced by intense desire. 

“I wouldn’t mind it, either.” 

That’s full permission if he’s ever heard it. 

Harry’s other hand drops from its spot against the cupboard behind her, joining its partner on her opposite thigh. He coasts his palms fully below her flowy dress onto her hips, a lascivious simper crawling across his cheeks at the lack of extra fabric beneath her clothes. “No panties tonight?”

The human swallows heavily, shaking her head as she leans it back against the wooden cabinets, giving him access to her throat. At the sight, the vampire’s fangs protrude, cutting into the inside of his lower lip as venom fills his mouth. He wills himself to maintain control. It’s difficult, considering his sharp eyes can make out the chiseling of her arteries pumping blood just beneath her delicate skin, but he forces composure into his behavior nonetheless. With all of the lights on and Y/N completely sober, he knows he won’t get away with another mid-fuck stunt like the one he pulled last time they were in this position. 

Instead, he distracts himself with what he can draw from her at this very moment— another unbelievable orgasm. 

“Such a filthy little fucking thing.” Harry growls, smearing his lips down the center of her jugular, nipping love bites into her flesh but making sure not to split it open. “S’that how bad you wanted it when you texted me? So bad that you didn’t even bother to wear anything underneath?”

Y/N whines softly when he passes over a particularly tender spot along her neck, shuttering against his chest. “Y-Yes.” 

A low chuckle rolls from Harry’s wandering tongue as he hones in on the area that had coaxed such a delicious reaction. “Fuck, that was such a pretty noise. Are you sensitive here, baby?”

Y/N nods with fervor, running her touch up his pectorals and over his strong shoulders, diving under his coat and fisting at the mesh that strains across his muscular back. Her eyes roll closed, her next confession coming out in the form of a feathery sigh, legs parting wider for him to comfortably fit in between. “I just...I just need you.”

Harry eagerly accepts the invitation, sifting between her thighs and hiking them up onto his hips. The fact that he can suspend her so effortlessly, almost as if she weighs nothing, makes the pit of her tummy boil. “You need me now, d’you? How much, doll? Want you to tell me how much you missed my cock.” 

The young woman winces ever so slightly at the crude word and it amuses him to no end. “So fucking much, Harry.” 

He can confidently say his name has never sounded sweeter than when it trickles from Y/N’s tongue. 

When he speaks, it’s packed with all the pent up turmoil radiating deep in his abdomen. “Did you think about me the way I thought about you?”

Y/N’s reply falls breathily from her mouth without any hesitation. “Y-Yeah. Couldn’t get you out of my head.”

A cocky hum tinges the air on his behalf. “And why’s that?”

“Because…” The girl struggles to swallow, finding it difficult to match how easily brazen he can be. She pushes through. “Because you fucked me better than anyone else ever has.” 

The compliment is one Harry gets often, but for some inexplicable reason, it hits so much deeper coming from Y/N. “Mm. Poor baby just needed to get properly rawed, didn’t you?”

“Had no idea how badly I wanted it until you came along.” 

A dark chuckle rolls from the creature’s lips at her bluntness. He repeatedly passes his textured tongue over the pressure point on her throat, flames igniting in his chest when she releases another watery, desperate mewl. “God, look at you. Practically already dripping. Like it when I play with you like that?”

“Fuck, y-yes.”

“Want me to keep going?”

“Please.”

And so Harry keeps going, and he doesn’t stop. Not at her neck, and not anywhere else. Not until she begs him to hours later, when he’s whittled three orgasms out of her trembling body, each one more intense than the last. 

The first one takes place right there on top of the kitchen counter. He boosts her up onto the table, bunching her pretty sundress around her quivering thighs— as he’d fantasized prior— while she fumbles with his trousers. He tends to her every breathy whimper as she eases him out of his briefs, marking his teeth all over her throat with the assurance that his blood will fade the bruises by morning. He tears his jacket down his broad shoulders, panting into her mouth as she undoes all the buttons that line his elegant iridescent shirt, moaning softly when she breaks their kiss to paint her hot lips down the expanse of his heaving chest and tight stomach. Y/N ducks down as far as her angle will allow, wanting to taste as much of his skin as she can. She wants to memorize its salty smoothness for as long as she lives. 

Harry watches her with bliss-drunken fondness twitching his mouth, head falling back to hang between his shoulders as a low, “Such a good girl.” rumbles from his throat. His ring-clad fingers tangle into her locks and scratch at her scalp lightly, strained exhales encouraging her to keep going as she delights herself with tainting love bites all over him. He yanks the girl back up by her roots, grabbing her hips and roughly scooting her forward towards him, clammy foreheads pressing together as he fixes to fill her up for the first time in what feels like eternity. 

The monster’s voice is as dominant and thick as she likes it. “Eyes up here. Want to see you come undone while I fuck you.” 

The way he spreads Y/N open makes her choke out a scream like nothing else she’s ever heard. Harry simply clamps one of his palms over her mouth, continuing to ram into her at a harsh stride, gasping against her ear with every thrust as she rakes her nails across his back. “Gotta keep that pretty mouth quiet. Thin walls.” 

The human feels like her heart is going to break through her ribs and what she doesn’t know is that with every passing beat, Harry feels it tenfold. And it’s driving him fucking insane— she drives him fucking insane. Especially when she looks at him with that glossy, begging gaze, biting into the mound of his hand as he slams his hips inside her so hard, the glasses in her cupboard shake. “Like it when I give it to you rough? Yeah, I thought so. Just like that? Harder? Say please…Christ, you’re a fucking angel.”

Y/N is dirty. So fucking filthy, and Harry loves every second of it. Loves that anything he throws out, she returns with as much enthusiasm, if not more. Loves that she can take his cock as hard as he’s willing to give it, which says a lot, considering his stamina and strength usually surpasses most humans. He’d met very few mortals who can match his sexual prowess and she happens to be one of them. She not only takes it, but pleads for more. She doesn’t just seek her own pleasure, but insists on delivering his own. And though they’re polars opposites at their core— she’s timid, physically standard, and boringly normal, whereas he’s confident, attractive, and unusually superior in every sense of the phrase— they fit together better than he’d ever care to admit. They’re perfectly compatible, down to their personalities and their intimate needs. 

As Harry stands there— fingertips leaving welts across her waist as he grunts brokenly against her throat, stretching her out like she was meant to take him this deep, her moans sounding like classical melodies to his ears— he thinks that maybe...maybe he’ll keep her around. A friends with benefits situation would be the most ideal. And to quote his own clever motto from before, it would be mutualism at its finest. 

The alliance would be nothing emotional; simply for the sake of providing each other with requited relief, as well as providing Harry with a convenient feeding arrangement. Neither of them would have to submit themselves to going to those terrible clubs, they both already know what the other enjoys, and the banter they share is pretty fulfilling. Plus, her blood is one of the sweetest he’s ever had. Whatever magic lies in her veins tides over his cravings in a fashion he’s never quite experienced. They both get what they want and don’t have to deal with the disasters of real commitment; neither are in a place in their lives where they can shoulder such a big responsibility. Harry is emotionally unavailable, as he has been for the past two centuries and as he intends to be for the next dozen. Y/N has just started anew in a place where she has so little to give and so much to lose, dating is the last thing on her mind. A casual no-strings-attached arrangement would be a perfect gift, bow and all.

And with the way they make each other cum multiple times that night— once on the counter, and twice on that trusty old couch— there’s not a single doubt in Harry’s mind that this is most definitely mutualism at its peak. 

///

During the span of the next few weeks, Harry learns a lot about Y/N. It’s surprising how informational someone’s sex habits can be. 

The second week after they had met— and the first since their second very heated, very satisfying encounter— she shoots him a text on Wednesday, of all days. 

Harry isn’t doing anything particularly interesting when he receives her message. He had gone to see Mitch play at the bar that had recently booked him as a semi-permanent gig, sitting in the booth furthest in the back from all of the ruckus, fingers tapping along the waxed table to his best friend’s skilled jazzy guitar chords. Mitch always teases Harry about how he doesn’t have a job, which the vampire always waves off. Working for money is stupid and unnecessary; any materialistic wants and needs that plague him, he can get with the help of compulsion. Therefore, what’s the use in condemning himself the horrors of customer service or a constricting office cubicle? 

His best friend is halfway through his set when Harry’s device vibrates against the sticky surface before him, tittering fingers coming to an abrupt stop. He flips over his iPhone, eyes flickering over the screen, a coy grin spreading its way across his blushed lips. Y/N’s contact beams up at him in return. He’d set her profile as just her name alongside three disco ball emojis, for the sake of their little inside joke. 

I’m getting off work a bit earlier than I thought today and was wondering if you wanted to help me with my ceiling fan.

Harry bites into his bottom lip to muffle a chuckle, shaking his head lightly as he stares down at the comical request. 

That’s odd. Last time I was there, you didn’t HAVE a ceiling fan.

Y/N sits on her lunch break in the backroom of the cafe where she’s employed, a veggie wrap halfway suspended towards her mouth when Harry’s text bloops in, pointing out her embarrassing mistake. She blinks at his correction blankly, eyes closing in faint humiliation as her true intentions are now painfully clear. 

After a second of recollection, she types back some damage control, though it hardly has an impact. Harry’s already chortling to himself just thinking about how contorted her face must look at the moment.

I’m aware, thank you. I meant I wanted help picking one out. I’ve got a few tabs saved as potentials. 

He decides to be a little shit about this whole thing, continuing to mock her.

You could just send me the links right now and I can tell you which one I like. You know that, right?

Y/N knows that. She also knows, by the tone and texture of his response, he’d only mentioned that alternative to be annoying. He knows she’s not talking about ceiling fans, and he just wants her to chase after him. Unfortunately enough for Y/N’s pride, she’s more than willing to.  

I just think your opinion would be much more valuable and effective in person, since you’d be able to help me search for other ones at the same time. We’d cover more ground. Two heads are better than one!

We do make quite the team, don’t we?

I personally think so. A dynamic duo for the books, honestly.

A soft round of applause cuts through the air around the vampire, signaling the end of Mitch’s performance. Harry glances up to see his best friend mounting his guitar back into its case, smiling bashfully at the crowd and nodding his head in thanks to all their praise. Harry coins his luck; things couldn’t have wrapped up at a better time. 

Alright, Watson. What time will you be home?

Y/N stops mid-chew through a bite of her meal, cheeks puffed as the corners of her mouth twitch at his nerdy reference.

I’m off at 6:45. Should be home by 7. 

I’ll see you there, then. 

See you there. Also, why do YOU get to be Sherlock? Seems a bit sexist. 

Harry rolls his eyes at her quip, smirking to himself as he types out his final response.

Well, first and foremost, I’m literally English. Secondly, last time I checked, I’m always the one in control. And frankly, you seem to like it that way. See you at seven, darling.

And at seven on the dot, Harry’s outside her apartment. His friends would be amazed at his punctuality. He only shows it when it’s worth the trouble.

The creature walks up the steps to the mortal’s complex with his Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, keychain tucked into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans, and his tan Chelsea boots clicking against the cement ground. A light wind whips his Keith Harrington Safe Sex t-shirt against the broad muscles of his back, drawing a soothed sigh from his lungs. He loves the California weather. 

He gives her door three swift knocks with his ring-clad knuckles, stepping back from the entrance and clasping his large hands behind his back as he waits. 

When Y/N answers, Harry tilts his chin down a smidge, looking at her over the brim of his chic black glasses with his signature dazzling smile dimpling his cheeks. He lists his head slightly in a formal greeting. “Detective.” 

The girl’s irises flit up to the ceiling as amusement twitches her lips. She plays along. “Nice to see you again. Detective.”

She moves off to the side, beckoning him to come in and he gladly takes the offer, striding into the flat and down the narrow corridor he’s grown quite familiar with. Y/N follows him back into her living room, gaze quickly drinking up his appearance. He’s casual today— less jewelry, more comfortable clothes— and he works the normal fit as effortlessly as he works his fancy brands. Especially with those tight dark jeans. They hug his thighs in a fashion that should be illegal. 

Harry twists around on his heel to face her, reaching up to remove his sunglasses and tucking them along the collar of his tee. A handful of curls fall across his forehead, framing his face and sculpting his jaw, as usual. A sweep across Y/N’s physique tells him everything he needs to know. 

She’s still in her work clothes, clad in a navy blue polo shirt and a pair of dark skinnies similar to his. Her hair is down, though the strands have a dent that suggests she’d been wearing a ponytail. Her mascara is smudged a tad under her seemingly tired eyes, but her attitude is as bright and lively as always. She appears messy, but he likes it. It’s a type of unconventional beauty that’s natural and genuine, which he can appreciate.

He contemplates her with a certain slyness that makes her shift in her socked feet. 

“I got a message earlier. Sounded kinda frantic.” He drifts closer to the human, a sultry tension growing taut between them. He glances upward for an instant, as if recalling a thought. “Something about ceiling fans…?”  

Y/N chews into her cheek to keep from giggling, allowing him to press his chest to hers. He slowly begins to back her up towards the shabby couch, which has seen this interaction happen one too many times. “Yeah, I’m thinking of getting one. Figured it’d help. It just gets really hot in here sometimes, y’know?”

“Mmm…” Harry thrums in agreement, deep in the back of his throat. His hands crawl onto her hips and grasps them somewhat roughly, index fingers hooking into the belt loops of her jeans as he leans down to brush his soft lips over her own. She’ll never grow tired of the electricity that passes through them every time their mouths touch. It kindles her needs unlike anything else. “It does get pretty hot in here sometimes. Especially if you’re working up a sweat.” 

He pushes her further towards the sofa, movements gradual as she drifts backwards, careful not to trip her. She glimpses down at where their lips are flirting, breath hiccuping when he licks his lightly in anticipation, his tongue just barely grazing her Cupid’s bow. “Absolutely. A fan would definitely help relieve some of that stress.” 

“Yeah.” Harry nudges the tip of her nose with his own, feeling her grab at his biceps for security as he continues inching her backwards blindly. “It can work wonders for when you’re all pent up, too. Especially when you’re really tight, which I know for a fact you are.”

The backs of the girl’s knees hit the edge of the couch and she topples into its cushions. She sits up onto her elbows, sheer need inking into her irises as he patiently begins to undo his belt. His long, nimble fingers work with ease and he seems to be in no particular rush, which pricks at her nerves because she feels completely the opposite. She’d been thinking about him since Friday night— or rather, Saturday morning, when he had actually stayed for breakfast that time around. 

Y/N had sat on top of her small dining table while he took the seat before her shirtless, leaning forward with his arms crossed nonchalantly over her lap as she fed him bites of lemon blueberry pancakes. The pads of his calloused fingers had drawn random shapes across the warm skin of her thighs, attempting to cheekily slip beneath her pajamas shorts and he’d giggle boyishly around mouthfuls of food every time she would swat his hand away. He looked so fucking pretty that morning, with his curls tangled in tuffs and the vague imprint of her teeth scattered across his grinning mouth, angry red scratches decorating his bare shoulders. That wholesome yet dirty image had left her head spinning for days. 

The sound of Harry’s zipper ripping open blinks Y/N back into the present and she nearly gawks as he grabs onto the hem of his graphic t-shirt and yanks it over his head, arms crossing as he does so. He tosses it onto her playfully, laughing as she smacks it away from her face and gives him a deadpan look. Harry leans forward, propping his palms on either sides of her head and bracketing her in, the unmissable scent of his delicious cologne invading her senses as his dark tattoos ripple over the lean tendons of his stomach and arms. His strangely cold forehead flushes against hers and he nips at her top lip, tugging it between his teeth and releasing. His voice comes out as deep and hypnotizing as ever. 

“Get undressed for me. Want your thighs wrapped around my head.” 

Harry comes to find that for such a reserved girl, Y/N has a pretty intriguing sexual mindset. She’s open to a lot of stuff he’d never expect from a rural-town escapee. Her kinks surprise him, but pleasantly so, considering they cross over with a lot of his own. She’s into choking, which he adores. There’s nothing hotter than feeling her pulse slam against the palm of his hand as his array of rings mark into the delicate skin of her throat. She likes being restrained, which translates into Harry pinning her wrists above her head while he slams between her drenched thighs. It’s difficult to achieve that on the sofa, so they end up rolling across the rug on the floor, her legs tangled around his hips like a vine as he pants into her mouth, damp hair flopping over his forehead and tickling her eyelashes. Ideally, he would have used his belt to tie her hands to a headboard. If they were at his place, he would’ve just reached for the metal cuffs he has hanging casually off the railing of his bed, which he keeps there for easy access. But they’re in her living room, so he makes do with what he can. 

The vampire doesn’t stay over that night, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he promised Niall he’d help him out with a car issue. Apparently the motor is making a weird noise and Harry isn’t shocked one bit. Niall barely has the brain cells to be alive, much less to handle the upkeep that comes with owning a vintage vehicle. He thanks Y/N for a good time as he slips into his tight jeans and recovers his sunglasses from the floor, pulling his tee over the already fading hickies littering his collarbones, fitting his accessory into his sweaty curls. 

Harry leans down to where she lays limply, splayed over the couch where he had placed her after picking her up off the ground (only after he’d made her cum twice). He plants a nonchalant farewell kiss to her parted lips, thumbing over her bruised nipples jestingly and grinning into her mouth when she whimpers. “I’ll see you later, Watson. Let me know which fan you decide to buy.” 

Two days later, Harry’s phone chimes again, this time with the unique ringtone he’d assigned just for her. 

He’s relaxing in his bathtub, submerged up to his chest in hot water mixed with Epsom salts and jasmine bubble bath, his locks sudsy with shampoo. He’s in the middle of shaving his face, dragging the straight razor (his time in the nineteen thirties made him picky towards any other tool, especially those simpleton plastic ones) down his jaw carefully, making sure not to nick the little moles under the corner of his mouth. When his device goes off, he halts all his motions, glancing over from the hand mirror he’s holding before his face. He’d changed her contact name to Watson as homage to their funny little dynamic, but he’d kept the disco balls in their place. He respects the roots of their acquaintanceship.

Fan came in. Wanna come check it out?

He had a nagging suspicion he’d hear from her today. It’s another Friday night, after all. He’s just happy she’d texted earlier than last time so he can flake on his friends without forcing them to wait for an hour. 

Wow, you chose two day shipping? You must be itching to see me.

Don’t let it go to your head. The only thing I’m itching for is your professional opinion. 

Right. Well, me and my professional opinion are washing up at the moment so give me thirty minutes and I’ll be there, yeah?

Sounds good to me, Sherlock. 

Harry decides on an outfit that falls at the center of his dressing spectrum— something comfortable but not lazy. Something semi-formal. He doesn’t really have to impress her anymore (not that he had to try that hard in the first place) but he wants to look good, either way. There’s nothing wrong with showing off what he has, both physically and wardrobe-wise. He chooses a horizontal-striped fitted tee made of thick cotton, the lines alternating between brown, beige, and a light caramel. He tucks the shirt into a pair of mid-rise corduroy flared pants that are a dark mustard shade, shrugging on an olive green jacket with red and white stitch detailing along the edges, large images of cacti embroidered along its expanse. His pearls, cross necklace, and he opts out of his earring this time. Rings, vanilla chapstick, mint gum. Keys, wallet, starch white Vans. 

Before he knows it, he’s being roughly pulled into her home from his spot just outside her threshold, his cherry-lacquer nails carding into the silky hair along the nape of Y/N’s neck as his teeth skim over the hollow of her throat. The human grapples to push his coat off his wide shoulders, backing further down the small hallway of her flat and kicking the door shut. She holds his head firmly to the sensitive spot in her neck that he’d toyed with a week prior, and he can’t resist the way his eyes blink crimson— a hunting impulse, stemming from the sound of her blood rushing through her carotid artery. He hadn’t fed last time— vampires only need to feed once a week to avoid desiccation— so he surely intends to tonight. 

Harry’s hands fit perfectly around the dip of her spine, pulling her body tight to his as he paints sloppy kisses over her jugular. He gets his teasing words out in between desperate gasps and breathy chuckles. “And here I thought this was genuinely going to be about the fan.”

“Shut up.” 

Y/N makes a sharp turn, tugging him into her room instead of the living room and it dawns on him that this is the first time they’re going to fuck in her actual bed. All those instances of sleeping together and not once had they done anything on the piece of furniture that was intended for that sole purpose. It’s ironically hilarious and he voices that opinion as they stumble onto her mattress. 

“You know,” Harry murmurs into her mouth as she shoves him flat onto the rumpled sheets (she hadn’t made her bed this morning and that’s endearing, for some reason), straddling his lap as she hurriedly pulls his t-shirt out from along the waistband of his trousers. “Out of all the times we’ve done this— which is quite a few— we’ve never done anything on your bed other than sleep.” 

That’s a lie. He’s never actually slept in her bed. After staring at the ceiling blankly two weeks ago for about eight hours, he had been smart enough to grab his phone from his pants the second time around. He spent that stretch of time playing Mario Kart and watching Unsolved Mysteries on Netflix with the volume down just out of human earshot, so as to not disturb her slumber. 

Y/N ducks in order to drag her wet, pillowy lips down the butterfly inking on his tummy and over the spines of the two ferns on his pelvis, licking across his happy trail. He jerks in response, a soft grunt gurgling in his lungs as she uses her index finger to trace the outline of his hardening cock through the velvet fabric of his slacks. Her voice is distant, giggle breathless. “Yeah, you’re right. How counterintuitive.”

Harry swiftly pops the button of his trousers, helping her coax them down his legs, releasing a stuttery moan when she immediately bends down and mouths at his prick over his briefs. The soiled stain forming around the tip of his cock would be embarrassing if he didn’t know she found it hot. 

His tone is tight but humorous as she continues licking at him eagerly through his underwear, nails digging into his inner thighs. “Am I your first?”

Confusion flickers in her eyes for a moment before she realizes the joke. He’s referring to if he’s the first person she’s slept with on her new bed in her new home. “Yes, you are, actually.” 

Harry’s juts his bottom lip out into an overly-sweet exaggerated pout, talking in a honeyed drawl. “Aw, I get to christen your bed with you? We’re practically married now. When’s the baby due?” 

“God, you’re a moron.” Y/N bursts into a fit of laughter as she mounts back onto his lap, pinching at his torso in fake spite and feeling her insides flutter at the airy giggles that escape him. She gnaws on her bottom lip thoughtfully for a second, watching with hunger as he finishes removing his shirt and momentarily sits up to chuck it onto the ground over her shoulder. 

Harry falls back onto the mattress, folding his taut arms behind his neck, biceps flexing with the movements as his strong chest and toned stomach look as appealing as ever. She runs her palms over his tanned skin, feeling the sturdy muscle shift beneath her touch. Shit.

The immortal slinks his head to the side, eyes going half-lidded in suggestive mischief as he sees the way she’s objectifying him. He doesn’t mind; he actually lives for it. “Are you just gonna keep staring or are you gonna fuck me?”

His lewd comment washes warmth across Y/N’s ears and spurs her into action. In less than a minute, she’s fully unclothed, bouncing on his cock with a type of need that boils the pit of Harry’s belly. His fingers are digging bruises into her waist, slamming her down onto his prick with enough force to make the old bed creak wildly. She may be on top, but he’s still the one pulling the strings. 

Y/N collapses forward, anchoring herself onto her forearms on either sides of his head, burying her face in his auburn ringlets. She bites onto her tongue, trying to keep a tab on the atrociously loud sounds threatening to spill from her mouth. They come out as broken whines instead, which Harry drinks up like a glass of aged bourbon. She fists at his roots, jolting with every thrust he gives upwards, her knees digging into his love handles to keep balanced. At this point, she’s barely riding him at all. He’s just ramming himself into her from below as he guides her hips and she doesn’t have an issue with that at all. She likes when he leads.  

His growl comes out low and raspy, riding on a moan, his warm, choppy exhales pebbling her bare nipples. “How’s that, darling? How’s that cock feel?”

Y/N nods her head frantically, not trusting her tongue to form an appropriate response. 

“Tell me.” He grits out through bared teeth, back arching a bit as he feels the knot of white hot pleasure in his stomach twist and turn. 

“I— I can’t. I’m—”

One of Harry’s hands coasts down the small of her back and onto her ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. She yelps at the new sensation, pain and bliss intermingling. “Yeah, you fucking can. You will. Use your words. Tell me how much you like it.”

A violent shutter runs through Y/N’s limbs and she instinctively pushes back against his palm. Harry’s eyebrows kink in question as he feels her draw her face back from his hair. One look at her eyes tells the entire narrative: She wants him to spank her. 

Harry slowly lifts his hand from her skin, brows raising a bit higher for confirmation. Y/N smears his lips against his forehead and left cheekbone, bobbing her head desperately, whispering a tiny, “Yes, please.” that sends smoky tendrils of hot air cascading down his straining neck. 

When the vampire’s hand comes down, it’s fast and hard, his cold rings biting into her flesh and leaving welts, the sound echoing off the glossy walls and tall bookshelf in her room. The cry that betrays her could probably be heard down on the main floor of her complex. 

The shattered noise makes Harry sanity slip and he’s lucky she’s too lost in her own bliss to see the way his eyes glow dangerously red. “Fuck, you’re such a slut for it.” 

Harry suddenly boosts himself forward, toppling Y/N backwards until she’s the one wedged against the bed. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, nestling her face into the crook of his sweaty collarbones, cracked cries pooling into the junction of his clavicle as he hikes her roughly up his thighs. He sinks further between her legs until he bottoms out with a loud garbled groan, pushing so deep she can feel him in the trench of her belly. 

“Oh my God, Harry— I— fuck, just—just— oh!”

His pace rises in intensity, strokes messy and unforgivable as he fucks her into the bed, the cracking of the frame warning him that it might give away. “Oh, so you liked that, did you? Like it when I call you a slut and stretch you out like one?”

Harry feels Y/N’s teeth rip into his shoulder in order to evade a scream; a strong shiver pin-balls down his spine as a result. Her voice is absolutely wrecked as she talks over her muffled mouth. “Loved it. Loved it so much. Want—Want more. Please, please, please.”

Harry holds her down firmly to the sheets, pounding into her with a form of unrestrained force he’s never exhibited. She just drives him to the brink like no one else has in nearly twenty decades. “Can you feel me in your tummy, pet? Can you feel how I fill you up?” 

“Yes, yes— it’s so good, Harry. You’re incredible.”

“Such a proper little whore.” He has to actively hold back from digging into her throat with his fangs, his eyes screwing shut in concentration as his orgasm begins to burn through his veins. “Begging me to fuck you like one, over and over. You’ve never had it this good, have you?” 

“N-No. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.”  

“Hands off.” 

“W-What?”

“Hands off.”

Y/N obeys, throwing her arms above her head and letting them hang off the edge of the bed as he’d instructed. It’s not like he wants her to stop scratching down his back, but he knows that if she continues, he’s going to black out. He’s already teetering, obvious in the black webs he can feel materializing over the whites of his eyes.

“Ask for permission.” 

The mortal unclamps her teeth from his bruised shoulder and swallows heavily, her words sputtering out from how hard she’s jerking against the bed. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please—can I—can I cum?”

“‘May I cum.’” The boy corrects, half because he wants to be a cocky ass, and half because it’s automatic. He was raised during an era where intellectual accuracy was of utmost value in society. It’s hard to leave those lessons behind. 

Y/N hiccups another mewl, hands curling into loose fists above her head as he continues to fuck her deliberately into the duvet. She repeats his phrase shakily. “May I cum? Please?”

Harry’s lashes flutter open and as soon as he sees her, all doe-eyed, covered in his love marks, with her bottom lip trembling...It’s like a switch flips. When he speaks, it’s soft and encouraging; a drastic contrast from his mood a few seconds ago. “Yeah...Yeah, baby, go ahead. Cum for me.” 

That night, as Harry lays there awake staring at that awful popcorn roof with the taste of her blood fresh on his tongue and her steady heartbeat throbbing in his heightened ears, he catches himself smiling in the dark. It doesn't have to do with emotions or feelings or any of that complicated bullshit. It just has to do with the fact that he found some consistency in his life, as unattached and materialistic as it may be. They don’t have a complex bond or a deeper meaning. They simply just coexist. They provide some common stability to each others’ lives and it helps keep an important balance. Stability is so rare to find, especially for an immortal who is condemned to witness the world constantly evolve around them while they remain frozen in time. Society will change, people change, appearances change, alliances change, and though it can be exhilarating, at times, Harry never truly has a say in it. He’s always just strung along for the ride.

This is different. It’s static, and that’s all he really needs it to be. Sex can be so emotionally messy if lines aren’t drawn and boundaries aren’t set. But with Y/N, it’s like they have a silent understanding— an unspoken agreement signed by both parties. It’s a notion that could have spared Harry his life in the past, and it’s an ideal that— even in death— took him centuries to learn:

Some people are meant to be loved, while others are just meant to be naked. 

///

The third week is when things escalate for the better. 

Specifically, Tuesday night. That’s when the sexting starts. 

It’s a pretty calm evening and Harry finds himself with nothing to do. Mitch is out with Sarah, who had come into town two days ago due to the band she’s touring with being on a three week break. She’d said she wasn’t staying for long— maybe a week, because she has plans to visit some other bloodsucker friends in Canada. Even though Mitch tries to hide it, Harry can tell he’s bummed about Sarah’s short visit. The older vampire is good at hiding his emotions, but Harry’s known him for so long that he could read Mitch’s mood even if he was blindfolded and gagged. 

The jade-eyed boy had been honest with his best friend, asking him what the point was in continuing to see someone whose depth of interest in the relationship wasn’t as developed as his own. Mitch had simply shrugged one shoulder and told Harry that he wouldn’t understand. He mentioned something about how eventually, the freshblood high would wear off and Sarah would find herself wanting to settle down somewhere with someone she could trust for the rest of eternity. Mitch explained that he cared for her enough to wait until then. 

His best mate had been wrong. Harry does understand. He understands the concept of chasing after someone who, in the end, didn’t want anything to do with him. He understands it a little too well, sadly. He figures that’s the same fate Mitch is bound to suffer, just on a less extreme level. 

But then again, Harry’s perception of love is majorly skewed, so who is he to judge?

With Mitch tied up with Sarah (probably literally, though Harry doesn’t dwell on that; it’s none of his business), his options dwindle to the rest of the crew. Niall and Xander had invited him to a concert they were attending, but Harry politely declined the offer. The musicians were some wannabe indie band and Harry would rather swallow a nicotine addict’s blood than listen to a couple of morons sing in cursive. Adam had suggested he tag along with him, Ny-Oh, and Charlotte to a new art exhibit that had opened up in the next town over. It was a thirty minute drive, so it wasn’t that bad, but Harry declined that invitation, as well. He loves art, if the giant collection on his wall has anything to say about it, but he doesn’t get on well with Ny or Charlotte. They say he’s “too much of an arrogant dickhead” to be around for an extended period of time. They’re right, of course, but it still hurts. Plus, Ny has a mullet and Harry knows he wouldn’t be able to withhold from making a Billy Ray joke. It’s best he stay away, lest she end up with an achy-breaky heart.

So that leaves him here, all alone at eight P.M. on a Tuesday, plopped on his couch in nothing but a pair of maroon plaid boxers as Hamilton plays on the ninety inch flatscreen mounted on his glass wall. He had left the curtains open, not really caring that he’s practically naked. The sun’s already set and it’s almost pitch black outside; plus, he lives on the twenty-fourth floor of the condominium complex. The only living being risking an eyeful is a peepy pigeon. Even then, Harry’s more than happy to put on a show. He’s confident enough in himself that nudity is practically second nature. His friends can attest to that. 

Harry lays across his leather sofa with a large checkered throw cushion snuggled into his side, one of his hands slung across the backrest of the couch as the other remains submerged wrist-deep in a bag of Veggie Straws. His socked feet are propped up on his round marble coffee table, ankles crossed and posture anything but eloquent. The apartment is silent, except for the musical streaming through the speakers of his television set and the gentle pattering of rain just outside his glorified window pane, accompanied by the faint flickering of the city lights below. The atmosphere of the room is relaxed and cozy and it lulls his soul in a manner he can’t put into words.

Harry has always liked the rain. Ever since he was a child, he would sit by the small round window of the attic room he shared with his older sister, watching it fall from the sky in sheets of glittering sapphires, soaking into the dry ground and turning it into a slush of dirt he would later sneak out to play in. When he got older, he would prop his shoulder against the doorframe at the back of his father’s blacksmith shop and gaze at it, mesmerized by how it would trickle down the streets of the public market, washing away all the grime that came with a bustling city’s reputation. Sometimes he would stand in it, feeling its cool touch run down his arms and soak into the back of his sot-covered work shirt. He enjoyed how it would cleanse the sticky sweat from his face and neck, its gentle nature leaving him feeling like he could float through air. Then his father would call him back into the store and playfully scold him for allowing himself to get drenched, warning that his mother would kill him if he caught a cold. 

Harry’s changed a lot since then, he knows that, but it comforts him that his love for rain is the one aspect of his personality that two hundred years of Hell had failed to take from him. 

The melodies swimming out of his TV reign him back in from memory lane. 

Harry’s not really one to enjoy musicals, but back when Hamilton had first hit Broadway, he’d used his persuasive supernatural abilities to sneak into one of the first showings. He’d been curious as to what all the hype was about, and the play did not disappoint. The songs were catchy, the acting was good, and the characters were brought to life through raw emotion and comedy. He respected that. And the plot of the story itself resonated with him deeply, as well. A protagonist that rose from nothing, fell in love with the wrong woman, and made terrible life choices that seemed correct at the time, which would all eventually lead to his death. It hit a bit too close to home. 

If he had a dollar for every time he’s seen it since it had come out on Disney+, he could probably pay rent himself instead of compelling others to do it for him. 

The play is halfway through one of its most famous ballads when the monster’s phone dings with a familiar tune. A smirk is already etching itself across his face before he even unlocks his device. 

I need interior design advice. 

I’m still a little sore from our last help session. How’d you bounce back so quick?

Funny, but I need ACTUAL interior design advice this time. 

Harry’s brows furrow in mild confusion and slight disappointment. He draws his hand from the junk food container, dusting off the crumbs. Oh. 

Genuinely? 

Yup!

He guesses he’ll give it a go. He does have pretty exquisite taste; the modern gothic aesthetic of his condo proves that. It’s not like he has anything better to do.

Alright, shoot. 

Y/N releases the breath she’d been holding in. Thank God he’s agreed to help. As much as she’s ashamed to admit it, Harry’s really the only person in LA that she deems relatively close to a friend. She hasn’t managed to mesh well with her coworkers much, despite the fact that she’s been trying extremely hard. She just doesn’t wanna force herself into unfulfilling fake friendships for the sake of having people to flaunt. It’s not right and she knows she’d grow to resent it. 

So instead, she’d reached out to the one California resident who doesn’t make her skin crawl. 

Whew, okay, thanks in advance! So I went out yesterday and got a new bedspread and I wanted some help choosing a new accessory to go with it, which is going on my wall. 

Harry’s ears perk up and his back straightens at her statement. Could she finally, by the grace of fucking God, be getting rid of that shitty tapestry? 

Well, let me see it, then. Don’t keep a man waiting, I’m dying to play Property Brothers over here.

A picture comes through of the two new accessories Y/N is referring to and the way Harry’s face drops instantly is almost comical.

Which tapestry fits better? I’m thinking the Van Gogh style painting of a lighthouse. The blue goes well with the dark turquoise of the comforter. But then again, the forest canopy has those pretty exotic flowers that compliment the coral stitching. I can’t decide. 

The vampire’s face pinches in disgusted horror as he blinks down numbly at the image on his screen. He’s going to be sick. Those Veggie Straws are about to make a hideous comeback. 

…two new tapestries? Did the other one rip or…?

What? No!! I just saw these down at the thrift store and thought they were cute. Why? Are they really that bad??

They’re not just bad, they’re worse. He’s going to ask her to blindfold him next time he visits. 

They’re…kinda immature, dove. I just thought you’d go for something cooler this time, like a vintage painting or a couple vinyls to mount on the wall. 

Immature? 

Oops. He should have picked his words more carefully. Now he’s gone and offended her and she’ll probably bite down the next time he puts his—

Another message interrupts his spiraling negative conclusions.

I know you didn’t just call ME immature when you compared me to a cream-filled donut, Harry. 

The playful tone in the text delivers a wave of relief that is almost as pleasurable as what lies between Y/N’s legs. 

Can I speak freely for a second? Full disclosure, no consequences?

That preface makes me think you’re about to chew me out.

I’ll be gentle, I promise. I know it’s not our usual dynamic, but I’ll give it a go.

Y/N ignores the bristling across her cheeks. 

Alright, go head.

I just think tapestries are kinda stupid. They scream “confused teenager trying to find myself.” But that’s just my opinion. I’m only telling you so you know that I’m probably not the best bloke to go to with tapestry inquiries. 

Harry watches as a read receipt stares up at him for a few seconds. Just when he thinks he might have truly upset her this time, her message bubble pops up. 

So...the one I’ve had hanging in my room the last three times you’ve been over…

I had to actively restrain the urge to strangle myself with it.

Y/N breaks out into laughter. The image of waking up to Harry laying facedown on her bedroom floor, balls naked and mummified within a sunrise tapestry...It’s sending her. 

Well, you know what? That’s not fair! You can’t judge my house when I haven’t even had the chance to judge yours. 

Harry nods once to himself in surrender, reaching up to finger-comb a few rebellious curls out of his eyes. She makes a valid play. 

Fair enough. You’ll have to come over and give me your opinion sometime.

I’d be honored to. Now, would you be so kind as to put your own personal bias aside this once and help me choose which one to put up. I promise I’ll spare you any more tapestry-related problems in the future. I’ll remove it from my customer contract.

Harry sighs defeatedly. He can’t believe he’s giving up his integrity for sex. 

Fine. Send me a picture of both of them up on the wall. It’ll give some perspective. 

Y/N giddily obliges, deciding to send a video instead. That way, she can get all of the angles in one go rather than having to send multiple pictures. 

Harry waits patiently, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth as he taps his foot against the coffee table to the tune of Wait for It, which is playing in the film that has now become the backdrop of his night. When Y/N’s next message comes through, he’s mildly surprised to find it’s a video. He clicks play, watching intently as she circles the two pinned tapestries slowly, making sure to get a proper view from all sides. By the time the thirty second clip is coming to an end, Harry’s leaning more towards the tropical canopy painting. It’s not as loud and she was right about the flowers matching the stitching on the duvet. 

He’s about to tap back “the forest one” when something flashes across the screen that makes him choke on his snack, launching him into a coughing fit.  

It’s within the last three seconds of the video and if he had cut it off in order to text back, he would have missed it. But he hadn’t, and now it’s burned into the back of his eyelids, causing a buzzing sensation to string right to the area between his thighs.  

The last few frames of the video, Y/N had lowered her phone from the position she’d been suspending it, probably thinking she had already stopped filming. She hadn’t. And because of that, Harry gets a full frontal view of her body, covered in nothing except a pair of lace panties and a mid-thigh oversized Avengers t-shirt. The entire screen fills with bare, silky skin and raunchy lace and he can feel his fangs poke into his tongue. 

Harry’s not a pre-teen; he’s not going to drool over seeing a pair of legs. What really gets to him is the fact that it appears Y/N still has a few hickies across the inner area of her thighs, which have failed to fade as quickly as the others. They should be gone, given that anytime Harry feeds (like he had the last time they’d slept together), he always gives her a bit of his blood to heal. Meaning, normal bruises like that should be gone. Maybe he just hadn’t given her a high enough dosage, or maybe he’d marked her more than he remembers, but either way, the stains are there.

The vampire ogles at the paused image with a dry throat and wide eyes. Just seeing her like that, dressed in comfy yet effortlessly sensual attire with no bottoms on whatsoever, freely flaunting his love bites around her apartment, probably looking at them in her mirror, thinking about how his teeth had felt grazing her skin…

It’s enough to pop a stiffy into his briefs. 

Harry glimpses over the top of his phone, swallowing thickly at the large bulge beginning to tent his boxers. His socked toes curl as he feels a longing throb begin to swell at the pit of his clenching stomach. Great. This is just fucking perfect. 

He attempts to tap back a reply, but his hands have started quivering slightly, clumsy thumbs ruining his message to the point where he has to retype it three times.

The forest one. I agree with what you said about the stitching. 

Okay, thank you so much! Your input is highly appreciated, as always.

The immortal finds himself gnawing at the inside of his cheek, weighing on whether he should mention the little softcore porn moment she’d unknowingly shot, or if he should just let it slide and go take care of the issue that is literally weighing on him— he can feel it getting heavy against his thigh. 

His fingers seem to take on a mind of their own, printing out a quick sentence and hitting the send button before he can rethink his motives. 

Did you watch your video before you sent it?

Uh no...It looked pretty okay to me while I took it. Why, do you need a different one? Was the lighting too dark? 

The fact that she sent it by accident only adds to the appeal. She’s such a good girl. So fucking innocent and sweet, she could practically give him a toothache. 

Do me a quick favor and rewatch it all the way to the end. I think you’ll be surprised with what you find.

Y/N leans back against her bookshelf wall, chewing on her bottom lip as a sly grin ticks the corners. She doesn’t have to rewatch the video. She’s fully aware of what she had done, which had been completely on purpose. She’s only playing dumb to see his reaction, getting off on how flustered he seems to have become. Yes, her intentions for contacting him had originally been purely for his opinion on decor. But when she saw the chance, she decided to jump headfirst and take it. What are friends with benefits for if not for times like these, when you’re too lazy to come over but need a bit of relief? 

The human allows a full thirty seconds to pass, simulating that she’s watching the video, and then thoughtfully taps out her response.

Oh, whoops. Sorry for the indecent exposure.

Harry shifts in exasperation against his sofa, the radiating in his abdomen crawling up to his chest and down to his knees. He needs to take care of himself now.

It’s fine, babe. You just might wanna be more careful, cause this time around you got lucky that it was me and it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Could go south if it were someone else. 

Y/N rolls her eyes lightly at his scolding, but continues to play the clueless act, curious to see where it’ll take her. 

You’re absolutely right, I’m so sorry. 

Harry clears his throat, flinching as he feels a soft twitch run up the length of his cock. He exhales tightly, trying to steer the conversation into a lighter mood. He doesn’t want her to feel bad; it’s not like he’s angry about this. He’s hot and bothered and needy, but not mad.

I just think it’s funny you exposed the fact that you go around your house without pants. 

Oh, fuck off! No one ever wears pants around their own house, especially if they’re alone. It’s one of the laws of physics. No human resistance, no pants. 

Harry glances down at his body symbolically, where he’s clad in only his underwear, as well.

Touché.

Exactly. 

A pause befalls the conversation as both parties fish for something new to say. The situation’s become less lively and more intense now and neither are sure how to navigate without crossing a line. In a surge of courage, Y/N decides to just directly communicate her intentions, praying that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. 

I have an idea, just hear me out. For the sake of evening the playing field, I think that since you saw me pantsless, it’s only fair that I see you the same way. It balances out, right?

Harry’s jaw drops in an open-mouthed simper, impressed by her blatant suggestion, but also by how smoothly she had delivered it. He mumbles his next words to himself, voice amused and somewhat awed at how she had managed to spin this to her benefit. “You clever little minx. Bet it wasn’t even an accident.”

You did it on purpose, didn’t you?

Y/N purses her lips, shrugging her brows cheekily.

Maybe.

The vampire scoffs, taken aback not only at the ploy she’d pulled off, but at how unapologetic she is about the whole thing. It’s hot. 

Alright, l’ll bite. Tick for tack. 

The photo that comes through makes Y/N choke on her spit. It’s not anything too revealing, but it packs a lot. Literally. 

It’s a pretty casual picture, and she gets the feeling he took it as so just to be a tease. In the frame, all she sees is a snapshot of Harry’s lap, thighs straining against the flimsy material of a pair of crimson tartan boxers, the large tigerhead tattoo he totes somehow prominent in the low lightning. Of course it stands out, though. That’s to be expected; his thighs are thick in the most satisfying fashion and they’re one of his most defining features. She can also see the bottom half of his lean tummy, the cutoff being the crest of his belly button. His fern inkings are peeking out of from below the waistband of the Calvin Kleins, dark and matte on his lightly bronzed skin, and she spots the nonchalant position of his crossed ankles in the background. 

As appetizing as every little detail is, the centerpiece of the portrait is the obvious bulge pressing into the fabric of his briefs. The outline is so prominent, the picture borderlines on graphic. His cock looks pretty as ever, even when it’s covered; the thin underwear leaves very little to the imagination. 

Y/N has to bite down on her tongue to keep from making an embarrassing sound.

Wow, okay, well...Your picture was much more explicit than my video. That’s not fair at all. Throws off the equilibrium we were trying to establish. 

Harry chuckles aloud, shaking his head in amazement at how well she can bend the game to her will. Three weeks ago, when he’d first laid eyes on that shy girl at the club, he would have never expected her to be so bold. Now, she has him wrapped around her pinky like a string.

You’re absolutely right. My apologies. Maybe you should send one similar so we can even out the stakes. 

You read my mind.

Y/N’s next picture causes a hiss to stream through the cracks of Harry’s teeth, eyes glinting red.

It’s a picture taken on top of her bed, the angle set from above. She’s laying on her side, her torso twisted so that her backside is in the shot, her huge tee pulled tight against her waist so it creates an enticing cinching effect. Her thighs are clasped together, the collar of her shirt pulled away just enough that he can see where the valley of her chest begins to curve, and the cheeky lace panties are working utter wonders for her ass. He can’t stop staring. He physically can’t pull himself away, his eyes bouncing across every pixel, attempting to commit the picture to memory to keep it locked in the back of his brain forever. 

Y/N awaits anxiously for his reaction, biting into the pad of her thumb as the seconds list by, wondering if he had enjoyed the nude or if he was just sitting there judging all her flaws. It’s been so long since she’s sent a risky photo like that, she can’t help but stress. Sharing your body with someone digitally is almost as intimate as real sex and it comes with similar worries and insecurities. Was the angle good? Are her stretch marks unattractive? Are the dimples along her backside gross? Is he second-guessing their arrangement? Is he wishing they hadn’t met?

She practically drops her phone when it vibrates.

God, you look stunning. Like a proper fucking dream.

All of her concerns immediately disintegrate, replaced by an odd sense of pride. She’s happy that he enjoyed it, and she’s thankful for the caliber of his response. Most men don’t care to comment that nicely, if they comment at all, and Harry’s enthusiasm only excites her further. She wants to keep going. 

You look pretty fucking good yourself. Wish I could just kneel between your thighs, take you into my mouth, and make you feel good for hours. 

Harry struggles to get saliva down his parched throat, her words bouncing around the inside of his skull, sending a current of bliss directly to where he needs it. 

Hours? You want me down your throat for hours?

For hours, Harry. I’d literally just sit between your legs and let you fuck my face again. Let you use me to make yourself cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry’s broken whine echoes off the tall walls of his home, one of his big hands finding a path to his curls and tugging in desperation. He needs to keep composure. 

Harry’s next snapshot comes through and Y/N has to screw her eyes shut for a second to brace the bolt of electricity that zips down to her core. 

The boy’s thighs have parted wider, his feet now down from the table, knees hanging off the edge of the sofa. His free hand has delved below his briefs, pulling them up just enough to show a tad of the neatly trimmed area beneath. His fingers are cupped over his cock, hiding it from plain view, but the imprint of his knuckles on the fabric suggest he’s gripping it tightly. The longer she looks, the more she notices— specifically, a dark damp patch spreading at the middle of his boxers and she knows damn well what it is. The fact that she’d got him riled up enough that he’s leaking through like that...She can hardly breathe right. 

Shit, you look so good. How do you always look that fucking good? I just want to feel you stretch me out while you moan into my mouth. 

Harry slowly starts pumping his palm up and down his cock as he rereads her words, catching his lower lip between his teeth, his naked and flushed chest stuttering. He doesn’t want to be the douche that tells her to send another picture, but he really needs her to. He wants to see what she’s doing, how she’s fairing. Wants to know if he has her as fucked as she has him right now. 

It’s almost like they share a telepathic link because not even five seconds later, another beautifully filthy photo is decorating his screen. 

This time around, Y/N has decided to fully lay on her back, spreading her legs open and drawing her knees up slightly so that her thighs are not only flexing, but displaying all the love bites he’d left only a few days prior. They’re all different shades of purple and brown, scattered over the satin suppleness of her skin, painting a canvas of the heated night they’d shared. It’s art at its most prestigious, if he’s ever seen it. And she has her hand ducked below her panties, the outline of her fingers situated right over her clit. 

Harry’s own hand instinctively tightens around his length, pulling a weak groan from his parted lips. He throws his head back against the backrest of the couch, bucking into his palm and teasing his forefinger over his bubbling tip. He spreads the precum all over the sensitive head, whimpering when the draft from the air conditioning caresses it and sends a quiver toppling over his shoulders. 

Fuck, she’s driving him mental. There’s only one way to take care of this effectively, despite their distance. 

I’m going to call you.

Y/N gulps heavily, licking over her chapped lips and feeling her pulse jump at the realization that she’ll be getting to hear his throaty voice coax her through an orgasm. Not only that, but she’ll get to hear him cum, too. She’ll get to hear every shattered gasp and needy mewl, almost as if he were pouring all those sounds of pleasure right into her ears in person. 

The mortal’s heart hiccups when his contact pops up on the Caller ID, phone vibrating insistently. After a deep breath taken to ground herself, she slides her shaky thumb over the glass, slowly bringing the device up to her ear. Her voice is soft and timid as ever, a tremble running through its undertone. “H-Hello?”

Harry’s words come through the crackling speaker as dark and smoky as whiskey, pouring into her mind and intoxicating her as easily as the real liquor would.

“Flip onto your stomach and take off the lace. Now.”

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

🎄Fri 25 Dec ‘20🙊

It's Christmas today and all throughout the fandom, as in life, we are adjusting to the disruption of holiday traditions. Here at DOTD we are accustomed to our annual pictures of Harry in Cheshire, Louis from his birthday night out via the paps and in Doncaster via sisters, Niall and his hometown bros living it up in Mullingar, Liam posting us a message (okay so that's the same this year), and maaybe a little something hinting that Zayn exists via his mum. This year all is topsy turvy, the boys are presumably celebrating in some way wherever they are (Anne and Gemma both tell us that they are not with Harry but don’t say where he is, Maya posted implying that Liam was in London with her, the others are silent), I simply hope they are all able to, as Liam wishes for us, “have a good one or as good as you can.”

But that's not to say we haven't gotten any presents this year! The Brazilian fans are always there for us- today we got an unseen of Louis from the infamous 2014 Rio escapades (partying, pools, bread van transport, a lot of drinking, Harry and Louis getting photographed in public holding hands which is likely to do with the previous, and Harry being so excited about it all that he got the Brasil tattoo.) What of it, you ask, we've seen plenty of pics of them from that day! Yeah, well the caption really elevated it-- “the night I danced funk with Harry Styles, but only took a picture with his man,” but also the fact that it’s from that night. She was like you guys the caption was a JOKE, I only saw them “hugging very friendly,” but the joke's on the official narrative: the point isn't that we thought she knew something, it's that contrary to the official story of the time her picture shows that Louis was there that night, and that for sooooome reason there was need to lie about that and claim he wasn’t. And in other cheery gifts of the season, an old picture showing Louis buying one of the Christmas trees that he had delivered to “his Hampstead home” (Harry’s house) from a place called Pines and Needles (lol), and unverifiable anon stories of 1) Harry and Louis being menaces and partying together, revealed to the fan supposedly by probably Oli a friend of theirs, AND 2) a story of them ordering from a drive through fast food window while high AF, both pretty believable tales tbh and a real consistent theme here today.

Liam posted a Christmas pic of himself posing with an enormous tree (is that his new house?? It looks like a hotel lobby!) and we got the final day of the LP Advent alarm! He and Roman wish us Merry Christmas, remind us that all the proceeds went to Trussel Trust and UNICEF, thank you for listening blah blah etc, Liam says he hears us that we love it and want more and that might happen in the future (I for one am in!), and then it ends on the perfect note to hilariously sum up the alarm's vibe and journey over the last weeks, accidentally cutting Liam off mid sentence, LMAO.

And finally I have one holiday tradition that not even a worldwide pandemic can stop: reminding you once more that this is the anniversary of the day two years ago that Simon Cowell announced that his great new idea was a band of singing and dancing CGI apes called The Monkeys “based on stars of One Direction and Take That,” because with an animated band “he won't have to deal with... human[s],” which he was hoping would restore Syco to relevance. He clearly sobered up shortly after and tried to erase all evidence of this ever happening from the collective memory but I am NOT HAVING THAT so let's once more raise a glass to Simon's idiocy and failure this christmas, and to all a good night!

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Harry is pining. We also have a pining Louis fic rec list here and a mutual pining fic rec list here, if you’re interested. If you enjoy this rec list, please support it by giving it a like and a reblog to spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Could Be Kissing My Fruit Punch Lips | Explicit | 4554 words

Harry happens upon a porn site that specializes in live videos and sort of falls in love with the cute boy he only knows as Kitty.

And then he gets the surprise of his life when he finds out Kitty attends his university...

2) Put You On Repeat, Play You Everywhere I Go | Explicit | 8290 words

Harry is a college radio show host and Louis is a contemporary dancer attending said college. After a drunk hook-up, naturally a whole bunch of pining, dedicated love songs and make-out sessions on dance studio floors ensue.

3) Focal Point | Mature | 8935 words

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking. Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand. Don’t forget about me. xx P.S. Thanks for the money.

4) Sit Next To Me | Mature | 12299 words

Harry Styles of One Direction always gets what he wants. Well, nearly always. What he can’t seem to figure out is why the very fit man who comes to assist Liam’s tattoo artist seems to have zero interest in him. Is Louis Tomlinson the straightest man alive? Or does Louis showing up for every show on tour mean something more is going on?  

5) Doesn't Have To Be A Real Thing | Explicit | 12532 words

In which Harry helps Louis get over his ex and it kind of becomes a regular thing. It’s totally casual – they have an understanding. But what happens to Harry when Nick reappears in Louis’ life?

6) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13150 words

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

7) Wake Me Up With It | Mature | 13699 words

The one where Louis makes Harry tell him a kink he's never gotten to try out, and then he offers to do it with him, which leads to Harry's heart exploding afterwards when Louis seems to have meant it as a one time thing. Featuring a pining Harry, a scared Louis, and an excessive use of the word baby.

8) A Love Reaction | Mature | 15802 words

It's never been a thing. Not until now.

9) Dance Like Warriors On A Battlefield | Explicit | 20028 words

Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand.

As it is, his father rarely gives the kill order anymore. He gives the order to let the loser live. Louis rolls his eyes, turning away. He doesn’t miss the way the gladiator’s eyes linger on him.

10) A Springtime's Wilt, An Autumn's Bloom | Explicit | 25953 words

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

11) I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course. Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

12) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words

The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.

13) Indestructible | Explicit | 24243 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

14) To Be Loved (And To Be In Love) | Mature | 30227 words

The one where Louis’s popular, Harry’s not and they bond by trying to get their friends together while accidentally matchmaking the entire school.

15) Not Quite | Explicit | 34163 words

Niall gives Harry an exasperated look, nodding slowly. “Okay...so do you want to explain why we’re hiring Louis? And do you want to explain it without making any mention of his soft hair or ample buttocks?”

16) And Touch Me Like You Never | Explicit | 35971 words

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

17) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40600 words

Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

18) Your Touch Shouldn't Make Me Feel Like This | Explicit | 48883 words

Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.

19) Some Things Take Root | Explicit | 50269 words

AU. Louis’ ex doesn’t get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

20) Social Cues | Explicit | 55860 words

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

21) Amazing Sin | Explicit | 56034 words

The story of Louis ‘Steal Your Man’ Tomlinson.

22) You're Supposed To Be Smart. | Explicit | 83318 words

Louis is an oblivious idiot who get's high scores in exam and will probably graduate with flying colors and Harry Styles is a right idiot who swore to always protect Louis but can't ask him out on a date.

23) Your Name is Tattooed on My Heart | Explicit | 86809 words

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

24) Falling Into You | Mature | 143112 words

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[jarofstyles]

Dirty Business V- Affogato

A/N: HI!!! sorry for the long wait, we’ve been really busy with life, but we wanted to get some stuff out for you! We’ve taken some of the requests about this series into consideration and tried our best to fit in everything we could. If it’s not in this part, it will likely be in the next! We’re thinking two more parts for them? let us know you’re thoughts! - n + d

send feedback and requests here

If you like this, please check out our Patreon!

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, FILTHY dirty talk, rough sex, use of toys  👉🏼👈🏼

word count: 6.8k

Things were going amazingly for the two love birds. 

Harry had been excelling at his job, it seemed everyday Y/N’s father was giving him praises. Y/N had felt secure enough to return her focus on her boutique, expanding the store online and even dabbling in designing some of her own clothes. The anniversary of her father’s company was coming up, the big 50th, and as usual she knew to expect a special event to be planned where all of his most coveted employees, partners, clients, and investors would be invited to attend. Food, drinks, live music, the whole lot. It was the talk of the year. Y/N also knew that this meant that Harry would be meeting her mother far sooner than she had hoped. The pair had been together for about 3 months now, stable and in the groove so it seemed right, but she knew how her mother could be. How unpleasant she was especially when it came to things that Y/N loved doing.

“Babe? you sure this is alright?” Harry called over to her general direction. Y/N had bought him some Gucci suit— well, called up her friend who worked the head and asked for one? Giving them Harry's photo and measurements. It was a black with a silky pattern and he didn’t know much about it other than the designer and he liked it. “I feel like I look expensive. Kind of like a prick.” He smiled. “Love it though.” He had her hands going through his hair before and he missed the feeling. Y/N was much more relaxed with him. Calmer. Soothed. Like a different person and not as anxious or on edge. When they had gone away to Paris it was similar, but here at their home, she was on edge. Especially today. “Oi, my love. Where did you go?” He peeked out to her bedroom from the en suite,  seeing the room empty, before he heard the heels clicking down the hall.

“I’m here, baby! One second!” Y/N came walking back, just having finished slipping on her dress, she just needed to get a few extra things. Accessories for herself and for Harry to complete the look. As promised, she had gotten him a Rolex, a small congratulations for moving up in the company, but also because she felt like he deserved it for being so incredible. A wide smile spread across her face when she saw him, admiring him in the sleek suit that hugged his body just perfectly. “Mmm I think you look perfect.” Y/N cooed, walking closer to him and gently playing with the lapels of his jacket. He had learned well from her, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned only slightly and it definitely gave him that youthful expensive look. Y/N hooked her finger in his necklaces and tugged him closer to her, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Thank god for liquid lipstick, not that she cared about him having lipstick stains on his lips. “Give me your wrist. Close your eyes.” She spoke, pecking his lips in between each sentence.

Harry was so lucky. He was reminded every time he saw his woman but— there was that blank in his head that wondered just how the fuck he had been able to resist this woman for so long. She was perfect for him. In all aspects. 

“Hm?” He pouted when she pulled away, her immaculate lipstick that matched her dress perfectly not budging at all. It was amazing. Some feminine magic he didn’t know about. “A surprise?” He raised a brow, not sure what it was. But, the man complied, closing his eyes when he felt a cold metal on his wrist. At first he thought she was being kinky but it wasn’t a handcuff. It was... a bracelet? A watch? Too heavy just for jewelry. When she told him to open, he nearly passed out. A fucking Rolex. The cheapest he had seen being 4 grand. But he knew this one was leaps and bounds more expensive considering the fact it was gold. “Y/N...” Harry breathed, eyes wide. “Baby... What is this?”

“Congratulations, my love.” Y/N cooed, pressing another kiss to his lips. “On the promotion, on making waves... Every businessman deserves a good watch... can tell a lot about a man by his watch. I wanted the best man I know to have the best watch.” She blushed and gave a squeeze to the hand she held. “Do you like it?” She asked sweetly, a bit shy because she knew she went a bit overboard with gifts but she felt like it was the least she could do. Y/N knew that all this money her family had went nowhere and she would rather spend it on him, someone who deserved it, than let it set collecting dust. Y/N knew once he took over the company that he’d be donating all the money he didn’t have use for. “I know you don’t necessarily like me spending lots of money on gifts, but... you’ll have this watch forever and ever and you can pass it down and everything and it will always remind you of your successes and humble beginnings and your hard work.”

“Yeah— I wanted to yell at you for spending so much but I know it’s cause... your heart is there.” He sighed, looking it over. His Y/N. His sweet, lovely, beauty. So generous and thoughtful. Pulling her in, a sweet kiss was given to her lips, repeated a few times. “Thank you. You’re the best.” She was one of the best things, if not the best thing to happen to him. “Trust me. I adore you. And I adore this watch. But if you buy me something ten grand again, I will spank your little ass until it’s bruised.” He brought a hand down for a warning spank and smirked when she squealed. “I love it. Wow.... now. How about we get going?” He smoothed the hair from her face. “Precious girl. You’re so lovely. I can’t wait to show off that you’re mine.” At work he didn’t let her bet too touchy. But outside of work, he had gotten a bit too happy with it!

Y/N was happy to hear that he liked the watch, she would happily take a spanking for spending loads of money on him. He definitely deserved it. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how much all of these clothes cost either. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him though. She had her driver come pick the two of them up, thankfully, Oliver was with Niall for tonight so he wouldn’t have to be alone for god knows how long. These things usually dragged on for hours but as long as the two of them made it to at least midnight, they’d be fine. Besides, Y/N was sure she could manage to sneak them away somewhere. 

----

When they arrived at the hotel, Y/N hooked her arm in his and put on her best resting bitch face. Everyone there knew who she was of course, but it was Harry’s first time attending. He looked incredible and she could feel the eyes on him. She couldn’t help but smirk to herself, knowing she had a catch. Harry was perfect. 

“Relax.” Harry kissed her cheek. Oh, how he wished she could be her bubbly and happy self here. “It’s alright. I can feel your nerves from here, my love. I’m here.” He cupped the side of her face with his free hand, kissing her forehead too. It was amazing to see her other persona pop up, incredible even. She was so easy to speak to people with this mask on and fake laughed at things while he observed and talked every so often. He would linger at her side and pull her in, kiss the side of her head or whisper funny things that came to mind. She was slowly relaxing but never enough.

“Styles, my boy!” Y/N’s father’s voice called from behind. “Princess, you look beautiful.” He complimented before turning to look at Harry. “Love seeing you two together.” As much as Y/N wanted to believe he meant that in a genuine way, she knew he really just liked the fact that his favorite employee was dating his daughter, that his legacy and company was in good hands. 

Y/N instantly stiffened up, hating that she didn’t even get a chance to brief or warn Harry about her mother. She knew I’d her father was there she wouldn’t be far behind. Keeping up this illusion that they actually loved one another. The all too familiar clicking of heels coming her way informed her that that moment was coming even sooner than she hoped. Y/N certainly didn’t have a great relationship with her mother and no matter how old she was she still felt her anxiety spike whenever she was around. Be it the comments she made on her life choices or how she looked, she always managed to spoil her mood. 

“Y/N?” Her mother asked with a raised brow, looking between her and Harry with a look of surprise. “Is this your boyfriend your father has been raving about?” She spoke in a tone only Y/N could read as sarcasm. The look on her face gave it away to others though. 

“Yes, he is. Harry, this is my mother. Mother, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

Harry held her to him. She had tensed up next to him and he felt it as she got upset. She tried not to show it. 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He extended a hand to greet her. He was prepared slightly for the grimace when she took his hand, shaking it weakly. Oh, great. “You’ve raised a lovely young woman. I enjoy her company very much.” He complimented, trying to make this pleasant— but he knew Y/N wasn’t the fondest of her mother and he was prepared for something to go wrong. Anything. He was concerned. 

“Dear, this is Harry. He’s been treating Y/N very well and a very good worker.” Her father tried to soften the blow of what was going to come.

“Charmed.” Her mother answered in her usual snobby tone. The woman was never impressed by anyone or anything really. No amount of money could buy this woman happiness or passion. She was bitter. For what reason? No one was sure. “Just how well can he treat her if she bought everything he’s wearing?” Her mother countered, very much able to sniff out her daughter's sense of fashion. She was aware that her husband never hired anyone with money, no, people with money always had motives. He always hired potential. 

The comment made Y/N’s blood boil. She felt like she was seeing red. Y/N finally felt like she had a positive influence on her life, felt like someone was making her into a better version of herself and her mother had to step in and invalidate it. 

“He treats me so well that I struggle to walk most days...you must have forgotten how that feels, yeah?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could even think. She just needed to get something out even if it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say to her mother. Then again, she wouldn’t take disrespect from anyone.

Harry closed his eyes at her comment. Jesus Christ, Y/N. He wasn’t taking her mother’s comments seriously but she had blurted out a very obvious innuendo about the fact Harry fucked her so good she was wobbly, the first time meeting her mother. 

“Baby...” He chuckled, squeezing her sides. “Is money more important than how your daughter is treated, ma’am?” He said it a bit loudly, knowing her husband was looking more amused than anything. He wouldn’t get in trouble for this. “While I’m saving money for our future and showering her in more affection and love then anyone else with a hundred million in their bank accounts ever would, I am happy. I think your daughter is very happy with me. She buys me things and I buy her things. Our relationship isn’t transactional, ma’am. It never will be either.”

The older woman looked them both up and down, taking a sip of her champagne and letting out a sigh. “It’s not about the money, it’s about our reputation...” She answered and let out a sigh. “Then again, she’s never been good at making choices that represent our family well.” She rolled her eyes. 

Y/N didn’t even have a chance to say a word before her father moved his arm in between the two. “It was actually my idea, dear... Harry is the closest thing to a son I have and he will be the next in line when I step down... regardless if he is with our daughter or not.” He stated calmly, “Please, do not bring this nonsense into tonight’s celebration.” 

Y/N was left speechless at her father’s statement. The entire interaction further proved her beliefs that she wasn’t really an important member of the family. She was merely there. Her father so calmly defended Harry, said he’d have the job regardless of Y/N being in the picture or not. It was like a shot to her stomach. 

“Well what a shame that is.” Her mother sighed, looking around the room to find someone else to talk to before excusing herself and leaving the group all together.

“Excuse us, sir.” Harry gently took Y/N’s arm and led her out to the back patio, knowing she felt upset. He could just... feel it. The energy of the room wasn’t helping her and the fact people had been looking. Weaving through people, he gave professional smiles with little nods before he got to the doors, taking notice of some of the people out there and walking towards the empty side. It was a time that he knew her well enough to know she needed some alone time to recharge. Most of all, she needed a hug. 

Y/N was stunned, her face stone cold as the two of them walked out onto the balcony for some fresh air. She couldn’t bring herself to cry about her parents again, couldn’t bring herself to cry in front of all these people. It was just a kick to the stomach really, the one this she had been prepared for but was hoping to avoid. 

Harry gripped her waist and held the back of her head to his chest, sighing when he felt her rest herself against him. His back was taking the blow so no one could see her being vulnerable. 

“My baby.” He soothed, petting her hair. “You alright? Not the best interaction hm?” Her hair smelled so good and he focused solely on her, not focusing on any possible business opportunities. She was his priority. “I’m sorry I got loud with her. I didn’t mean to but I don’t want her to speak about our relationship like that.” Harry muttered. “I won’t let people disrespect you or us like that.”

“‘s not your fault, Harry...” Y/N spoke softly, “no need to apologize, you did everything right.” Y/N added and allowed herself to close her eyes and relax into him. “I didn’t want you to meet her...” She said in a quiet whisper, “She has a way of getting into your head… I didn’t want her to... to make you feel like I wasn’t proud of you or that I’m not proud to show you off...” Y/N didn’t really care what her mother said at this point, she knew she was wrong. It was the way her father defended Harry first that really made her upset. “Do you believe me now?” She asked quietly, pulling back to look at him with worry in her eyes. Y/N had told him about how her parents didn’t care about her as long as they had their money and reputation.

“Baby...” Harry’s heart broke. “I’ve believed you since you told me. I always believed you. I don’t know how they could feel that way but...” He smoothed his thumb over her face. “My darling girl. You always have me on your side.” It was nearly impossible for him to comprehend why either of them cared so much more about money and reputation than they did about the happiness and well being of their daughter but he wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t ever let anyone make any children of his feel that way. “She isn’t going to get into my head at all. I’m happy with you. I know who I am. You’ve made me feel so much more secure in that. Not the job, but just how it is. We need each other.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. “You’re what I want to have and who I want to be with. No one can convince me otherwise. I want you. You’re my sweet girl. My angel. My baby. Yeah? No matter what shit she says or tries, I’m not going anywhere. She can’t change my mind.” Thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the girls skin, Harry’s eyes soft. “She’s probably going to have very, very limited time with our children though. Even supervised.”

Our children. 

Y/N felt her heart flutter. Harry had said it to her before, sure, but to hear him say it so confidently again and to know he was thinking about it? Well, it just made everything feel better. Restored her confidence though it hadn’t faltered much like it usually did. 

“Funny how you think she’s even going to get to meet our children.” Y/N mumbled, looking up at him with her brows furrowed and nose scrunched. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she thought it was but his fond little laugh was worth the attempt. “I love you.” She told him again, her voice gentle and sweet. Y/N had saved saying it for moments like these and though he still hadn’t said it back to her, she didn’t mind the wait. “So much.” Harry was truly her rock. Had he not been here, had he not been the way he was, Y/N would have reacted much differently and would likely be making a scene. She had gotten so much better. “But the company is yours regardless... you heard it straight from the horse's mouth.” Y/N said to him with a small smile, “How does that make you feel?” She asked and moved her hands up to play with the unbuttoned portion of his shirt.

“I love you even more, my sweet girl.” Harry pulled her in for a few sweetened kisses to make her smile a bit more than she had. He did love her, the girl was so lovely. He would risk it all for her, every bit. “It feels nice that the company is mine, but I’d choose you before I chose it.” That's the truth. For a long time at the beginning he was trying to focus on that but she had brought him so much happiness, so much self love for himself and he was head over heels for the woman. 

“You love me?” She asked, needing to pause for a moment to make sure she heard him right. Y/N was over the moon. Sure, they might have had a very unpleasant conversation with her mother, but that didn’t change how Harry felt about her. That was all the support and love she needed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to press a sweet, passionate kiss against his lips. For years she was convinced she needed to be someone else to be loved, for a few months she thought maybe she needed to be someone else for Harry to love her. That wasn’t true at all. He loved her. And she loved him. 

“Yes. I love you very much. Do you want to go home, my lovely? Can drink some champagne on the car ride back and go back. Cuddle a bit....” Harry knew that champagne made her frisky. Harry mainly wanted to get her out of the same place as her mother and wanted to be selfish with his time with her.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Y/N asked sweetly, “Just for a little longer.. we just got here. Go mingle a bit, I’ll behave. I promise I’m fine.” Y/N cooed, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his eyes. “Lets go inside yeah? We’ll stay for a little and then we can go back..”

“But... what if I want to go home?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek again so he could kiss her again. Not having gotten enough beforehand. He wanted to kiss. And kiss, and kiss, and then spread her open and fuck. He had so much love for this woman right now. It was growing every day but he was hit hard with it. “Just want to be alone with you and remind you how much I utterly adore you and your every bit.” He nibbled her bottom lip lovingly, pulling back. Their sex life was erratic. Some weeks just having cuddles but others being full on fuck fests. Right now, he wanted an even mix. “C’mon. Want to be close to you.” He slid a hand down her body to rest on her ass. “You’ll give me that, yeah?” 

Oh. 

Harry wasn’t usually this forward, it was often Y/N who wanted to love up on him and have him completely and utterly ruin her. Not Harry who was pleading for them to leave an event that could be important for work. Oh how the tables have turned. This was a welcomed change though. 

“Is that so?” Y/N murmured truly surprised by the way he was acting, but she was going along with it. She wanted to see what could come of tonight. “Of course I’ll give that to you, baby, I’m just—” She bit her lip when his hand squeezed her ass tighter. “Okay, alright!” Y/N giggled, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.” She decided they’d slip away unnoticed. No one would really look for them. The cars were already waiting out front and Y/N made sure she snatched a bottle of champagne for them to take in the car with them.

Harry felt like the kitten who had gotten the cream— even though he hadn’t quite yet. He had gotten her to leave, was touchy and finally got her in the car where they finished the bottle of champagne quickly. He pulled her closer to him, feeling like a needy puppy with the way he nuzzled at her neck. A hand slid up the slit of her dress and touched the softness of her inner thighs, purring at the heat of them. 

“Haven’t told you how much I love this dress.” He muttered against her neck. “S’so lovely. But I want to get you out of it.” He was only slightly buzzed but he felt even more in love right now. “Want to see somethin’ like this on you when you’re pregnant. Mmm— fuck, that’ll look so gorgeous. Can’t wait for that.” He had a bit of him that hadn’t realized how much he had a bit of a breeding kink until she showed up. The idea of filling her and letting the cum catch in her, claiming her in that most primal way? It was godly. “When are you gonna let me, pet?”

Y/N was definitely feeling the champagne because his comment caught her off guard for a moment. She remembered when he first told her about this kink of his, how he wanted to put a baby in her and just... pretend that that was the goal. How he had a thing for knowing he could get her pregnant. She had been on birth control for a while and they’d been having sex without protection for a while. There was really nothing to fear. All she had to do was give in, let that primal instinct take over and let him live this fantasy that quite frankly, turned her on. The way he wanted to be a father of her child, the way he wanted to see her stomach swell with life. It was hot. 

“Wanna put a baby in me?” Her glossy eyes looked at him, a loopy smile on her face as his fingers pressed against her skin.

“Mmmm. Yeah, so bad.” Harry rubbed his face against her. “Sooo fuckin’ bad, bunny. Just want to stuff you up full, over n’ over again and make you hold it in. Even tho’ it looks so pretty drippin’ out. Love cleaning it with my tongue but I want it to catch.” He sighed. He thinks perhaps it’s a mix of the alcohol buzz and the way he felt like maybe she truly needed to see his desire for him that set him free. He really wanted her to be able to see that he was so into her, he never wanted to leave. Ever. Add in the fact she just made him unbelievably horny. “Wanna get it all stuffed in that little tummy of yours, yeah? Just... wreck you n’ make you cry from his good it is, then keep fillin’ you up.” He muttered. “Jus’ wanna get inside cause I’m so hard. Want to fuck. Get back inside my pussy.” He always referred to her cunt as his own, and he knew she liked it even if she didn’t tell him that.

“Daddy..” A whimper left Y/N’s mouth at his words, her whole body heating up with a sudden burning desire to be at her home and in a car with the partition up. Goosebumps spread across her skin as he continued to speak, lips brushing against her sensitive neck making her squirm. Between the alcohol and hormones, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it. She dared to look out the window, seeing that they were only a few blocks away from her place. Thank god they weren’t driving all the way to Brooklyn, she would’ve had him fuck her right in this car. Y/N moved her hand to rub over his hard cock, giving it a slight squeeze. “What’s gotten into you, daddy?” Y/N smirked, her voice coming out much darker. “We’re almost there... then you can take me upstairs and do whatever you want. Anything.” She hummed, knowing that whenever they were in this mood something kinky always went down.

“Haven’t been in you in too long. I’m so... I want it.” Harry grunted against her neck. “Jus’ wanna be inside of you. You’re all hot and slick. I know it.” He moved his hand up and startled her, groaning against her skin as he felt his suspicions become reality. “Mmm— Yep. Knew you’d be wet for me.” He smirked to himself, placing his fingers on her pussy. He didn’t move them yet but kept hold of it. “S’all mine. Let me touch it whenever I want to just do this. Want to make you go crazy with how good it feels.” He muttered, kissing her jaw and finding her ear to talk into. The vibrations of his dark voice tingling against her, making her shudder. “Daddy’s hot little cunt. And you’re such an eager slut for it. Already slick for my cock. Gonna have a hard time keeping still when I lick your pussy up and get you cleaned up. Plus... have a bit of dessert.” He felt her shiver as he pressed his finger tighter against her.

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling his fingers press against the place she needed him most. It had in fact been a while, a few days. It’s not long by most people’s standards, but for them? It had definitely been a while. 

“Fuck, please—“ Y/N bit down on her lip as the car had come to a haunt. “Thank you!” She called today the driver, hesitantly pushing Harry to get out of the car as she followed with the empty bottle of champagne. Y/N threw it out in the trash can in the lobby, hoping her dress still sat correctly on her body after Harry had a proper feel in the car. Seeing him all drunk and disheveled, nice suit and hair a mess was the hottest fucking thing she’d ever seen. She swore it. Seeing that loopy smile and his hungry eyes on her was making her forget why they even went out in the first place. Y/N stumbled into the elevator with him and hit the button for the top floor, looking at him from over her shoulder. “What?” She giggled.

Harry grabbed her and pressed her front against the wall of the elevator, ankle hooking hers and knocking her legs open. Immediately his fingers found her cunt, sinking two inside of her. The shocked gasp and moan mix make him smirk, fingers moving in and out of her pussy. 

“Couldn’t wait to feel it. Missed my pussy so fucking much.” He smeared his mouth over her jaw biting down gently. “Fucks sake, sometimes I think you forget that it belongs to me. S’daddy’s pussy. Think you need a proper reminder of that today.” He bit down on her ear this time, moving his fingers harder into her pussy, the slick little squelch of his fingers filling the enclosed space. She was squirming in his arms and making these noises— fuck. “Keep making those little mewls. Such a dirty kitten. Letting your daddy finger fuck you in the elevator.”

It was all so sudden. Y/N really thought he’d at least wait till they got inside, but before she knew it she was pressed up against the cool wall of the elevator, her heart racing. Harry really wasn’t playing tonight and Y/N surely wouldn’t underestimate him again. 

“Fuck me— daddy, ah!” She whimpered out, cunt clenching against his fingers while they moved inside her. Her head fell back on to his shoulder, the feeling of him biting at her jaw and smearing kisses against her skin sending her wildest thoughts over the edge. “‘S your pussy daddy! Fuck— yours, all yours!” She pleaded, feeling herself shiver at the sound of her own slickness against his hands. Y/N had never been quiet and Harry was well aware of that, hitting all the right spots inside of her that would make her go crazy for him. “Please— please!” She begged, “feels so good! Don’t stop!” Y/N begged, knowing she could easily cum just from how insanely turned on she was.

Harry didn’t hesitate to make her cum. She came all over his hand in the elevator, a devilish grin on his face as he pressed his fingers in and curled them just so, having her drip all over the digits. He truly felt like he was going feral because he really couldn’t wait. He loved his Y/N so much, he felt the tiny bit of buzz hitting him and all he wanted to do was fuck. Show her how much he meant it every time he promised forever. How he cherished her pleasures. He had swiftly picked her up and thrown her over her shoulder when they’d gotten to her penthouse. Carrying her through the whole place to her bedroom with a dirty hand he had sucked clean and a squealing Y/N over his shoulder, he finally got to her bedroom. 

“You’re going to be a good girl for me. Aren’t you?” Harry smirked while Y/N looked up with her innocent eyes and nodded, seeming to be in awe of his behavior. Harry hadn’t exactly gone this primal before but she was wet as fuck and he was as happy as could be. Taking his tie off, he smirked down at her and held it in front of him. “Wrists.” He demanded. At the rapid blinking, he gripped her throat, leaning down over her. “Don’t make me ask for them again. Give me your wrists.” It was quickly after that, she was stripped and they were tied and held to the headboard. Naked and all at his mercy, Harry stalked the end of the bed with a dark gleam in his eye. “Look so pretty, my sweet girl. Innocent, if it wasn’t for your drippy little cunt making a mess of those expensive sheets.... Said they were silk, didn’t you?” He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. “Where are the toys?” At a drunken 2 am they’d ordered sex toys one night and a little toy chest she had gotten for them, and he wanted to play with them. 

“Daddy!” Y/N whined, but the sharp glare he sent in return immediately sent darts of hot arousal and a bit of fear through her. “Closet....”  the whisper was given as she clenched her thighs together. Harry brought the chest out and hummed as he looked through things, happily finding what he was looking for. 

“Ah!” 

When Harry took out the wand vibrator, it had her heart racing faster. She hadn’t ever used one with someone else before. Usually she could control when she took it away and just how much she could handle at a time, but with the way Harry was acting... Y/N knew that he wasn’t going to be nice about it. 

“Daddy... please, I just want you inside.” Y/N tried, not sure she could handle all that pleasure. 

“Hm. It’s a shame I didn’t ask, isn’t it?” Harry knew that she would be okay with this, because he had gently asked her colors and she had genuinely responded green. He knew her well enough and had permission beforehand. They’d spoken about this being something they did anyways. “Now. I can see you’re all slicked up. Already came once tonight so I’ll be nice and make sure this one is even better.” He cooed, leaning down over it and spitting right on it. The flinch had him grinning, Y/N moaning and bucking her hips at the sensation of it. 

As soon as the vibrator was clicked on, Y/N knew she was in trouble. Still sensitive from the knee weakening orgasm from the elevator, the buzzing had her legs stiffening. 

“Oi.... keep them open.” Harry scolded. “Daddy’s been so nice to you. So sweet. And now you’re out and trying to take away my fun?” He gave a faux pout, but his voice was thick with arousal. 

“I forgot about how much of a slut you are sometimes. Been so gentle with you lately but you really have been wanting a bit of fun.” He murmured, clicking up the setting. 

Y/N was laying with her mouth open, breasts heaving with the way Harry moved the wand up and down. The powerful vibrations had her shaking a tiny bit and she knew she wouldn’t last long. Another pitiful whine of his name had her getting a bit more pressure over her clit. 

“Shhh. That’s my girl. Daddy’s dirty whore, hm? Can’t get enough.” 

Her hips were bucking up and the heat coursing through her was intense. Harry’s behavior well was fueling this intense arousal. He was all man. All.... perfect for her. She loved being admired and needed and even a little bit degraded when it came down to it, and he was giving it to her. 

“Fuck... look at you. Dripping down to your sheets and panting like a bitch in heat. All you want is cock inside your precious cunt, isn’t that right?” 

“Yes! Daddy, please. I’ll be so good. So, so good just... inside me!” Y/N pleaded, bucking her hips needily. Harry was so good to her. More generous than any other lover. More caring and loving in general but in bed, it was a whole other level. 

“Begging... sounds so good coming from you.” Harry muttered, pressing the setting up as he leaned over her. “One more orgasm before you can take me. I know you love being filled up. Pounded. Like when your makeup gets all messy and smeared because you’re so fucked out you can’t breathe. I know that you want to be so sore in the morning that it’ll be obvious that you have the best cock in your bed.” Harry has also shown off his possessive side lately. Been increasingly so. “Want everyone to know and to see that you’re well taken care of. Daddy’s princess.” He muttered, watching her face. 

Y/N was losing it. Her stomach was hot with heat and she kept bucking her hips and grinding into the wand Harry held firm against her cunt, playing with her breasts with gentle movements of his fingers. Two types of sensations. 

“That’s it. I can see it.” Harry encouraged, it was obvious when she was close. “Be a good girl. Cum.” 

At the demand, Y/N lost it. Shaking, she let out a gasped sob as her body writhed against the sheets, a squeal of his name and holding on to the tie holding her wrists to the board, her back arched and her whole body trembled in the best way possible. She didn’t even know what was happening as she felt her wrists get let go of, flopping to the bed. All she felt was herself being turned over to her stomach, propped her hips up with a pillow and then— fuck. 

Harry filled her. A loud moan came from him, a pathetic whimper. Harry’s hand gathering her hair up and holding it firmly, cock buried deep inside of her for a moment before he began to go. There was no mercy with his thrusts. Hard, bed shaking, dirty. Leaning his body over her, speaking into her ear. 

“That's it. This is what you were made for.” He muttered into her skin. “Made to be fucked by me. Act so spoiled all the time but no one knows... you come home, my sweet little angel. Want to be so sweet to me and then a needy little bitch in bed.” He cooed, hands slipping between them. He wasn’t going to last very long. “Had me all worked up all night with that sexy fucking dress, your pouty lips. I love it so much. My pretty girl. I love showing you off. I want to do it more.” He grunted as he pressed her further into the bed. “Mine. You’re all fucking mine. This pussy belongs to me. I want every fucking person to know that I’m yours. That you are mine. No one else gets to take you. I’m keeping you forever.” He wasn’t even hesitant to say that. He loved her. His woman was the only one for him. “Mine. Fuck... I’m gonna cum soon. You got me all worked. Fuck, I needed this pussy so bad. Needed you.” He groaned into her ear as he ran sloppy circles across her clit. 

Y/N was more than happy to take it, whining loudly as she felt him take every bit of his cock and slam it in. Truly, she felt cock drunk, eyes crossed and mouth unable to close. She was so sensitive and needy, but she had let go completely in his hold. It felt like shocks every time he pounded into her and the stream of whimpers and little noises was loud but pitiful. She needed this so bad. To be fucked out by him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Plea-” Her whines got caught in her throat as his hand grabbed at her hair and pulled her back. 

“Yeah? Begging to cum again like the good little cum slut?” Harry practically growled, “Squeeze for me, yeah… that’s it… fuck, you’re so good, so perfect.” He knew he wouldn’t last long. Her cunt felt like heaven. Nothing had ever felt better. With every thrust Harry felt like he was struggling to hold back his full power, essentially shoving his cock as deep as he could manage. Y/N’s sweet sounds of pleasure only edged him on, his own grunts and mutters begging her to cum for him so they could share a sweet release. 

And my god was it sweet. A series of throaty moans left the both of them, nothing but the added sound of skin slapping against skin and the slickness of their climaxes filled the room. Harry slowed the pace of his moving hips and stayed hovering above his love whilst they caught their breath. 

“You mean everything to me, you know that? Nobody, and I mean nobody will change that. You’re mine, Y/N. I love you.” Harry meant it with every fiber of his being.

He was going to marry this girl.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: hehehe fore-shadowing? 😈- n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[pop-punklouis]

top five HL fanfic!!!!

biiiiitch you all know how hard it is for me to choose only 5. but sigh FINE here’s my all-time favorite list that isn’t 5 sorry i can’t choose 😔:

• Here in the Afterglow (89k)

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.” 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

• Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

• Wild and Unruly (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

• This Wicked Game (70k)

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

• Love is a Rebellious Bird (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

• Fixated On One Star (53k)

Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.

Or: space Romeo and Juliet AU

• Finding Lou (60k)

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

• California Sold

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

• Empty Skies (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

• And Then a Bit (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

• Dream Awake (31k)

The sun leaks through the tent wall behind him the way it leaks through eyelids, bathing the boy in an ethereal half-light as he croons. The crowd is mesmerized. Louis is mesmerized. This is the most important person in the world, he thinks wildly, and then can't figure out how to take it back.

On a hazy day in August, Louis sees Harry perform at a music festival as an unsigned act and convinces him to spend the rest of the weekend in his company. Harry gets signed; life changes. They never really wake up from the dream.

• Say You’ll Remember (93.5k)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

• Outwit, Outplay, Outlast (61k)

Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

• Nothing Else But Us Right Here (35k)

Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.

• Wings to Break Your Fall (103k)

strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.

• Leave it to the Breeze (81k)

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

• You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings (81k)

Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.

Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.

• Hold Me Closer (36.5k)

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

• In Vogue (121k)

Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry's running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis' confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic)

• These Things Will Never Change for Us at All (1.5k)

The room falls silent as they stay wrapped up in each other. Harry can feel Louis’ soft breaths on his neck, and he almost thinks Louis’ fallen asleep until he says softly, “How did you know you were in love with me?”

Or, Harry and Louis look back on five years.

• A Runaway American Dream (15k)

AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.

• Things Have Gotten Closer to the Sun (49k)

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

• Here (in your arms) (60k)

the one where Louis is a successful real estate agent and Harry works at a retirement home. They’ve never had a real home. Up until now.

(Starring Liam Payne as a fitness trainer, Zayn as an artist, and Niall, who busks.)

• These Inconvenient Fireworks (190k)

Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one other eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.

• In Dreams (23k)

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

• My Heart is Breathing for this Moment in Time (160k)

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they’re put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn’t know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry’s always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

• Paint the Sky with Stars (63k)

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom. Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform. By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help. Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

• Through Eerie Chaos (102k)

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

[floralguccistyles]

epilogue

...he probably loves you

After four months of dating Niall, our families and friends still couldn’t believe it. 

Apparently, Niall’s feelings had only been apparent to my sisters, because when we told our parents that we were dating, they had stared at us with supportive confusion. Niamh had mourned the loss of the five hundred dollars four our Jamaica trip, but she had thrown an arm around my shoulders and congratulated me. And then, in a surprising turn of events, had started crying when Patrick announced he couldn’t contain himself anymore and proposed to her shortly after Niall and I had made our announcement. 

Niall had just smiled his beautiful smile at me and pulled me closer into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’ve just realized!” His mom shouted in the middle of our movie. It was Greg’s pick tonight, so naturally he had chosen a Disney movie that Theo would actually be interested in. His wife had already dozed off to sleep, pregnant with number two and according to Greg, “unable to stay awake for more than five minutes.”

“Christ, Mum,” Greg complained, jumping from her loud exclamation.

“We can get Rose and Niall couples gifts for their birthdays!”

Niall raised his brow. I was curled up against him, my own eyes falling shut every couple of moments. The new job working for Eric’s brand was exhilarating and exciting, but it was a lot of work getting a start up business off the ground. Often, I would come home late and simply collapse on my couch while Niall took pity on me and made me dinner.

“Mum, our birthdays are five days away. Have you not gotten us anything yet?” he joked, his thumb running back and forth across my arm.

“You’ve always been hard to shop for,” his mum said simply, waving us off, her brain looking like it was going a million miles a minute with the new possibility of a couple’s present. “Not you though, Rose. You’re an angel to shop for.”

I grinned up at Niall. “I’m an angel,” I whispered.

His nose wrinkled. “Whatever.” But he quickly kissed my nose, ignoring Violet’s protest against PDA.

Violet was sitting on the floor by my feet, her nose buried in her phone as she waited on a text from the cute guy in her summer anatomy class she had a crush on. She had been hesitant to tell me about him, but three weeks ago, at one of our weekly-Thursday lunches, she confessed that he’d asked her to study with him. After hearing that, I had pushed and demanded she show me a picture and tell me his name.

He seemed nerdy and sweet. His name was Arjun, and he had helped her study for the final, where he stammered his way through the entirety of their study session before blurting out that he thought she was pretty and wanted to take her on a date.

They had been texting each other back and forth since. 

“Don’t make a big deal out of this,” she had told Lily and I while we gushed over how cute it was that she had a crush on someone, especially after her good friend started dating the last guy she’d had feelings for. 

Lily, on my other side, was leaning on the arm of the couch, her eyes slowly blinking in and out of sleep. She officially had her law degree and was going through what her coworkers lovingly called “Hell Year.” Her first year of being a lawyer and dealing with all the shitty cases was getting to her. However, she still managed to drag herself to our weekly lunches and had even mentioned that she had decided to go on a weekend getaway to London with Carmen, her coworker.

Violet caught me looking at her phone and shielded it from my view. I just playfully kicked her side.

After the movie, Niall drove us back to my apartment. It was nothing special, just a one bedroom, one bath. But it was mine. And while I still didn’t sleep all the way through the night except on the nights when Niall stayed over, I was working on it. I unlocked the door and let the both of us in, kicking off my shoes and flipping the light switch on.

Before I could take another step, Niall’s arms were around my waist and his mouth was on mine. I would never get tired of his kisses, of the way his hands would tease under the hem of my shirt and touch my heated skin. He always kissed with an eagerness, the kind of happiness that only someone who had been in love for a long time possessed. 

“It’s so hard to sit next to you at family functions,” he sighed out against my lips. I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Unlike my mother, I already got your birthday gift.”

“If you say my birthday gift is sex with you, I might actually have to hit you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That would be your birthday gift to me, Rosebud.” 

I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. We hadn’t taken that final leap into our physical relationship yet. He was cautious and I was still unsure it was something I was ready for after my incident with Kent. The group I had been attending had been a huge help and I got coffee with Wendi and Carlos (two sexual assault survivors I had met and befriended at group) occasionally. Still, there was a small part of me that wondered if I would ever truly get over it.

And I wondered if Niall resented that.

He saw the look on my face and his smile melted away. “I didn’t mean it like that, Rosebud. You know that,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I know,” I replied, “I know. I’m sorry I’m a piece of work.”

He shook his head, his arms encircling me and pulling me into his body. “You are not a piece of work. You’re the girl I love and will continue to love, no matter what boundaries you set. You know that. Nothing could make me love you less.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. Every time he told me he loved me, I got butterflies in my stomach and my lungs stopped working properly. “You staying over tonight?”

“If you want me here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I always want you here, Niall.” 

He kissed me again, his lips soft and gentle. “Mind if I shower really quick?”

“Go ahead. I’m gonna make some hot chocolate.”

I watched him walk up the stairs, a smile on my face when he turned back to wink at me. When I heard the shower start up in ym small bathroom, I turned towards my kitchen and grabbed two disposable coffee cups and a Sharpie. Niall liked his hot chocolate made with the little chocolate sticks I bought at the store, so I poured milk into the saucepan and heated it before depositing one of the little sticks inside. He was also a big baby who demanded the little marshmallows, so I grabbed the bag from my pantry and set them on the counter to add to his drink later.

My heart was pounding. I had been planning this for a while, but just tonight felt confident enough to do it. So I poured his hot chocolate into his cup with shaking hands and raised the Sharpie to the side of the cup, scribbling down the message. I still had pictures of all the notes he’d written me, including the one from this morning, when he had written “love you more than you know, Rosebud.”

And he did. He loved me more than I could ever comprehend. The four months being with him, he had never failed to show me just how much. He held me when I woke up with a nightmare, kissed me on the forehead when I was frustrated with work, held my hands when I got home from group. But I’d realized the things he’d done for me before, too. Like picking me up when Lily couldn’t, staying on the phone with me when I asked it of him, always making me laugh. 

Niall Horan truly loved me. More than I’d ever been loved.

And I needed him to know that his feelings were reciprocated.

I heard him before I saw him. He was loud as he walked over my hardwood floors, chattering on about some thought he had in the shower. I should have been a better girlfriend and listened properly, but my hands were still shaking and I felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest and run away. I turned, catching sight of him in his comfy black sweats and a white tee with that signature grin on his face.

“I forgot my shampoo at my place, so I used yours and now I smell like a lovely lilac spring.”

Just like that, my nerves evaporated. I didn’t know how Niall did that, make me so sure of myself, but he did. This man loved me. And I loved him. He deserved to know how much and not have me chicken out at the last minute. 

I walked over to him, giving him a little sniff. “Very nice, very manly.”

“Nothing manlier than using my girl’s shampoo. Just shows how much I love her.”

“Is that what it does?” I asked playfully, reaching his cup out towards him. He took it in his hand, bringing it up to sip at it.

“Hey, you put in the little marshmallows this time,” he commented happily, taking another drink before he pulled the cup back. His large thumb covered my small writing, but he caught the tail of the ‘y’ and maneuvered his hand so he could read it. I saw the moment the words caught up with him, the moment he registered what I had written.

I love you more than you know.

“Rosebud…” His voice was delicate, like it could shatter in a single moment. “Do you mean it?”

In lieu of a response, I took the hot chocolate cup out of his hands and set in on the coffee table. I grasped his face in my hands, giving him a watery smile. “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he breathed out. I felt honored and cherished when I saw the tears in his eyes just from my simple confession. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So much.”

The earth could have collapsed around us. The ground could have opened up and swallowed us whole. All that mattered was Niall as he surged forward and kissed me hungrily, his tongue delving into my mouth to tangle with mine. His hands were tightly wound in my hair, but didn’t pull or tug. He just held me there, like if he let me go I would dissipate. He’d never kissed me like this, but I’d never kissed him when he was a Niall who knew how much I loved him. And he’d never kissed the Rose that had finally stopped running and admitted her feelings to him.

“My birthday present to you feels shitty now.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled to the surface. “This wasn’t your birthday gift.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “This was more. So much more.”

He kissed me again, his touch sure and unwavering. “Thanks for loving me, Rosebud,” he whispered, repeating my words from so many months ago. 

So I decided to repeat his back. “It’s the easiest thing in the world, Niall.”

~

Oh my god. Wildflower is over. I cannot believe this. This started as a random thought in my head one day because I needed a good friends to lovers but with a twist, and suddenly Rose was born. This is the first story I’ve finished on this blog and will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you to everyone for reading this little story and for all your support. I refuse to let go of Niall and Rose forever, so don’t be surprised if I write little drabbles for them, but I’m excited for what the future holds in terms of my writing. 

I give one big giant virtual hug to all of you. You don’t know how much you guys mean to me.

[harrysgoldenline]

okay so i saw one of these for niall but, one where y/n can’t afford harry’s life style but doesn’t like him paying for her and it’s just angst with fluff at the end?

Hii!! I got SO SO SO carried away doing this and it ended up not being too angsts so I really hope you still like it! And I’m sorry it took so long but I just got the inspiration for it and all just came to me at once! Thank you so much for requesting 💖

The Best Gift

The store was bright and flashy, yet somehow simplistic, the different display cases making the girl glance around quickly as she took in the new space filled with diamonds, pearls and jewels, although this being her second time here, only because of him, she didn’t think she would ever get used to it.

She felt completely out of place, walking through the luxury store with Harry wearing an ensemble costing close to three thousand dollars and she was wearing a dress from one of her favorite online shops costing her around $60, with that being a splurge.

“Anything catching those pretty eyes?” He smirked, nudging her slightly but still keeping his grip tight on her hand, guiding her throughout the store he has been through more times than he can count, “we got all day baby, try on anything you want!”

“I’d rather you give the fashion show.” She laughed, going up on her tip toes and kissing his cheek, “We’ve been in her thirty seconds and I’ve seen you staring at four different pairs of trousers.”

He gave her a small nudge, before leading her to a seat outside the changing room, due to the fact they got in trouble last time for having her come into the same one was him. He gave her a quick peck before he started grabbing his items, flashing her a wink before he disappeared into the short hallway and into the dressing room, giving her a cute wave before shutting the door.

She giggled softly to herself, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head, wondering how on earth she was lucky enough to have him as her boyfriend, be so lucky to have him be in love with her? It would never fully click.

Her eyes wandered around the shop, admiring the different materials and luxury items she could never even dream of purchasing. She wishes she could, especially dreaming of being able to buy something Harry would buy for himself and just be able to try and repay somehow for everything he has done for her.

Harry has taken her on so many different trips, gotten her custom gowns, designer shoes and jewelry and it made her feel terrible. For his birthday, she picked up extra shifts, stayed late, and did some babysitting in order to get him some new rings and a recording microphone he could hook up to his phone or laptop he could use instead of using just voice memos.

He loved it of course, wearing the rings all the time and enjoyed being able to get a better sound when an idea would spring up on him, but she still felt guilty. Harry would get her a thousand dollar bag and a matching diamond earring and necklace set.

Letting out an impatient sigh she stood and began wondering around the store a handbag catching her eye, well her dream bag really. She has had it plastered all of her Pinterest board and was just in love with it. She carefully ran her fingers over it, heart sinking as she checked the price tag and instantly retracted her hand, feeling wrong for touching it, so she just stood and admired.

“Okay darling, what do you think?”

The girl jumps at the sudden voice, pulling her back to reality and she turns to look at him as he is standing directly behind her, a large smirk covering her face as she takes in his appearance.

He struck a few poses, blushing a few moments later after some staff members noticed before shyly standing straight, giving her a quick twirl as he was dressed in grey wool trousers and a pattered sweater.

“You look so handsome.” She softly smiled, reaching her hand up and rubbing her hands over the material, “its really soft... I love it, absolutely perfect for you.”

“Thank you angel... now you go pick something to try on.”

***

After Harry trying on a few different outfits, and him forcing her to try on a dress (which she didn’t end up getting for obvious reasons), they were headed for check out, Y/N helping him carry his items to the counter where they both stood, her eyes widening at the price growing and growing.

“Hey Y/N, you wanna grab some smoothies from next door and I’ll meet you there and we can head back to my place?” He suggested, handing over the place pair of trousers, “I’ll be right there, gonna get the car pulled up.”

“Okay!” She happily smiled, “The usual?”

He nodded and gave her a quick kiss and she was off, entering the overly priced smoothie place nearly a minute later, quickly ordering their drinks and waiting over to the side.

A few minutes later they called her name, giving her the drinks and she left with a quick thank you, a smile covering her face when she sees Harry in the car pulled up outside, running over to the car with a smile and happily hoping into the passenger seat, handing him his drink with a kiss on the cheek.

He gave her a happy smile, stuck in a daze as he stared at the girl, a large dopey grin glued on his face.

“What?” She laughed, cheeks turning pink as she started buckling her seatbelt, “Why are you staring at me?”

“Just so in love with ya, sunshine.” He grinned, leaning over and giving her a long kiss before pulling back, switching the gear of the car and driving off.

She blushed, giggling to herself as he kept stealing glances at her throughout the drive back, “Look at the road!” She laughed, covering her face, “I love you but right now is not the time to stare, you’re gonna kill us.”

He grabbed her hand closest to him, bringing it to his lips with a quick kiss before seating it down on the armrest between them, holding it there for the rest of the drive.

Soon enough they were back at Harry’s, him grabbing the bags before she could so she just carries in both smoothies, scurrying in close behind him, following him into his bedroom where he starts putting away his new clothes.

“Darling, could you grab what’s left in that last bag please?” Harry called out from his closet, putting away his new sweaters and trousers.

“Of course!” She called back, walking over to it as Harry sneaks out of the closet, watching her reach into the bag.

She kneeled onto the bed, reaching into the deep white bag and her eyes widen at the feeling of leather, rather than the soft feeling of fabric, eyes looking up and meeting Harrys as he leaned against the inside of the doorway with a smirk, raising his eyebrows at her as if to urge her to keep going.

She shakily wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled it out of the bag, an audible gasp escaping her as she quickly looked up at Harry, a proud grin covering his pink lips.

“H-Harry.” She shakily began, shaking her head as the images of the price tag overwhelm her memory.

“I’ve been seeing ya look at it online and when we went in the store last, then again today so I just had to get it for you my love.” He explained, walking over and sitting next to her on his bed, “Do you like it?”

She shook her head rapidly, dropping the purse onto the bed and covering her face as tears filled her eyes, knees pulling to her chest. Confused, Harry instantly took her into his arms as he got the complete opposite reaction than what he was expecting.

“I-Is it the wrong color? Shape?” He began, “We can take it back-“

“It’s too much!” She interrupted, “It’s so expensive! You cant keep… keep spending this money on me its not fair! I’ll never be able to repay you, we have to return it.”

“Repay me? That is not what this is about, I got this for you because I am in love with you and I wanted to get you something that you’ve been wanting for a long time. You’re always working so hard, Y/N. I wanna spoil you.”

She brought the back of her hand back up to her eye, wiping away her tears before looking up at Harry, heart breaking at the dejected face he was making. The girl leaned into him, arms going around his shoulders as his meet her waist, pulling her onto his lap, moving her hair out of the way and kissing her shoulder.

“Your love, Y/N…” He began, “is the most valuable thing you could ever give to me. All I ever want in this world is you and you alone, okay?”

She nodded, burying her face in the crook of his neck pressing a kiss to the warm skin before pulling back and looking into his eyes, “Okay.” She sniffled, “I-I’m sorry, I am- Thank you, Harry. I really am grateful, for everything, it’s just a little overwhelming.”

“I know you are, you don’t need to thank me angel. You got the sweetest little heart.” He chuckled, pressing quick kisses up her neck before leaning their foreheads together, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, no gift can top that… Although I do really love those rings you gave me.”

“They’re no Gucci....”

“Hey! They’re my favorites.” He grumbled, fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her closer, kissing her softly, “I love you so much, more than you will ever know.”

“I love you so so so much, Harry. Even without the gifts or anything… you know that right?”

“I know.” He shyly smiles, heart growing in size as he knows the girl in his lap is the one he’s been dreaming about, “and I know you’re the best gift because you’re my soulmate, Lovie. You’re my forever.”

[pasiveagressive]

11 things Niall Horan Can’t Live Without// Niall Horan

Based off of GQ’s Video some parts are taken right from the video so please don’t kill me on that. Warnings: None?

You wake up to your boyfriend's alarm. When he was setting it last night you had informed him he was not going to wake up to it, he obviously denied the accusation and set it anyway leaving you to wake up to it and then in turn wake him up. 

“Babe,” you lightly shake him “If you want to get your haircut before your interviews today you need to get up.” He groans “Babe seriously if you don’t get up and turn off your stupid alarm I will not talk to you for a week.” he grabs his phone turning off the insufferable noise then closes his eyes again. Five minutes later the alarm goes off again informing you that he did not turn off the alarm but simply hit snooze. “Niall seriously if you don’t get up, I will extend the no talking thing to a month.” He finally starts moving and you aren’t sure if it is because you threatened to not talk to him for a month or if it is due to the shrill that is his alarm. He turns it off and then rolls over to be face to face with you. “Morning love.” He says and leans in for a kiss. You turn your head so that he kisses your cheek instead of your lips. “Hey!” you stay silent and climb out of the hotel bed. He tries to get you talking for the rest of the morning. “Love did you hear Harry’s new song?” “Y/N what do you think of my hair cut?” “Sweetheart what do you think my ten essentials should be?” You however refused to break. His first interview of the day is with GQ and it is the ten essentials video. Because you were not talking to him, Niall hadn’t told you what he decided his are. If you had to guess though it would be his guitar, sunglasses, phone, pillow, hair cream, journal, hair dryer, Lewis’ contact, wallet, and he will probably be cheesy and say you. You arrive at GQ headquarters and he steps to the side to talk to the person directing the video you assume. A few minutes later you are sitting behind the camera in a seat they gave you watching your boyfriend be his usual charming self. He holds the clapboard “Soft sticks, Niall Horan, GQ Essentials, soft sticks.” He claps the slate “You're welcome.” they do about a hundred variations of this before they move on. “What’s up GQ? It's Niall Horan here and these are my essentials.” He is then handed his hair dryer. You guys actually share the piece of equipment rather than carrying two around the world, but details. He talks about why it is an essential for a few minutes and then is moved on to the next item “Essential Number Two, Sarah Chapman face mask…” once he finishes talking about the face mask he makes a joke about how he seems vain after showing his first two, and this of all things is what breaks you vow of silence (well that and you are tired of not talking), “You are vain!” you shout, he laughs, “Seriously all I had to do all day today was say I am not vain? That is what made you talk to me?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Come over here love.” You roll your eyes and walk on to the set. “Now I did not list her as one of my essentials, but this right here is my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N.” He pulls you on to his lap “She isn’t one of my essentials because she is more than that for me. What’s higher than essential?” he thinks out loud and crew members start throwing out ideas, “Indispensable!” “Imperative!” “Vital!” “Yes!” Niall exclaims “I like that one. Vital. Y/N Y/L/N is vital to my survival. She does so much for me that no one even knows about all while continuing her studies.” He puts a hand over the side of his mouth as if he is whispering, “She's going to be a lawyer.” he says with so much pride in his voice it makes your eyes well up. “Oh shut it you big sap.” you try and laugh off your tears and slap his arm. “I am serious love, honestly guys if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have even gotten out of bed this morning.” “He’s not lying or being dramatic about that.” You say as you go to stand up thinking your part was played, “Wait, what do you think the rest of my essentials are?” “Well you threw me for a loop with the face mask, but I am ninety-nine percent sure that Lewis’ contact info is one of them.”

“Damn, why didn’t I think of that?” he expresses. “See this is what I mean, she knows my life better than I do!” He lets you get up this time when you try to stand, but gives you a quick peck because he had yet to kiss you today. Even though you both believe ‘a peck is almost not even a kiss’, it would have to do for now.

The next item surprises you a bit, Niall had always liked to drink water more than anything else but he normally had a disposable bottle. For his birthday you got him a Hydroflask. He tried his hardest to remember to use it but old habits die hard, and forming new ones is even harder. He talks about how he had recently gotten it as a birthday gift and was trying to use it more because he is trying to do whatever he can to save the planet,

“...I’m no like eco-warrior, but my girl is and I feel like this is my start.” He tells the camera. An intern hands him his next item, his guitar as you guessed. He loves that thing nearly as much as he loves you. He had helped with the design process and picking what wood would be used, so it is only natural that it is his baby. He constantly has a guitar out when you are just laying around the house or hotel room, he gets bored very quickly so it is something for him to do with his hands.

He goes through the rest of his essentials some of the items surprise you a little but for the most part you could have guessed them all, sunglasses ( a matching pair sitting on your head), a baseball hat, his golf clubs of course, his suit ( he actually brought your favorite and gave you a little cheeky wink when it was brought out), his clothing steamer, and his hair cream.

Once you are walking out of the building sunglasses on your faces, hand in hand, he tilts his head at you,

“I am sorry about the alarm darling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and I am sorry for acting like a bit of a brat over it.” he kisses your temple, “Should we get lunch before your next interview?” you ask

“Of course. Pizza?”

“You know me so well.”

[anythingandeverything1d]

A surprise

3 weeks earlier:

“Congratulations, and we will see you back here soon for your next appointment.” 

“Thank you.” You take a deep breath and walk out to your car. Once settled in the drivers seat you take another look at the picture. It didn’t look like much but you were able to make out the small bean shaped blob of a baby. You smiled, biting your lip. This was something you and Harry had always talked about....but how would he actually react? He was about to start his world tour, he had plans for One Direction to work on projects again, and there was talk of him being nominated for a grammy. It all seemed like so much at once, you weren't sure he would be as excited as you were. You also didn’t know how or when to tell him. Part of you wanted to wait until you were in the safe zone, knowing the baby was growing healthy just as it was supposed to...but what if something happened to it? You didn’t want to go through that alone.... What if he wasnt excited though....what if he didn’t want a baby right now? What if he thought it would just be an inconvenience to his life at this point in his career... You sighed, placing the ultrasound picture in your purse and deciding to hold off on telling him.

Today:

“Babe....” Harry called out from the kitchen. He was concerned... you had been in bed all morning due to the insane morning sickness you had been having lately. Harry was convinced you were dying. Every morning waking him by dashing to the bathroom and heaving everything in your stomach into the toilet. You had tried hiding most of your pregnancy symptoms, but its actually insanely hard to hide. Along with morning sickness, you were also moody, emotional, not sleeping well, and would get nauseous at any given smell throughout the day. 

“I’m okay.” You called back, rolling over in bed. You heard his feet pad into the bedroom and looked up. Harry was standing next to the bed with a cup of tea. He set it on the table and sat next to you. You curled up into his chest and and smiled. “If I had known not feeling well would get me some extra snuggles this morning, I would’ve faked it long before,” you joked.

Harry chuckled, relieved to see that you were feeling better. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and relaxed into the blankets with you. His fingers trailed up and down your arm softly. “Are you sure youre okay to come with me to mum’s later?”

You nodded. “Of course! You know I would never miss an opportunity to have some of those chocolate chip cookies she promised...” Ugh....cookies..... Your mouth started watering immediately. Maybe I can have cookies for breakfast too...

“You know she only makes them because you love them. I think she secretly loves you more than me...”

You laughed and kissed him softly. “Stop. Your mom loves you.”

“I know, I’m just saying she loves you more.” Harry laughed. He looked down at you and grinned. “But it’s okay because I love you more than she does....” he kissed you, his lips pulling away slowly.

You grinned, shaking your head. “I sure hope you love me more than your mom does. Besides-”

Harry cut you off, his lips attacking yours. Your hands wrapped around his body which was moving over yours. It had been almost 2 weeks since you and Harry had actually had sex. Before your symptoms had shown up, Harry had been away for work only to come back to you throwing up every morning. His hands slowly stroked the inside of your thighs, tugging at the panties while his lips stayed glued to yours. “Shh...” He whispered against your lips. “A little less talking please...”

You laughed, tugging at his boxers until they slithered down his legs. Harry tugged the t-shirt of his you were wearing off and moved his lips down your chest. He pushed himself inside you, earning a groan from you. You had almost forgotten how big he was... Harry moved faster, pushing in deeper and hitting your sweet spot. Your walls clenched around him. “I-I’m cl-” your words were cut off as he moved faster. You watched his eyes roll back and new what was coming. His lips sloppily moved to yours, and he froze breathing heavy. You could feel the warmth of him inside you, causing you to release as well. Harry sat still for a minute, before pulling out and sliding you up onto his chest with a lazy smile. You pressed kisses along his jawline, still feeling heat between your legs and that itchy feeling in your stomach not satisfied. Harry got the hint and laughed, moving his way down and cleaning up everything. His tongue pressed into you, sending your back arching and shivers down your spine. He had a finger in, moving quickly when his phone rang. “Ignore it..” You whined breathlessly. Harry did ignore it, continuing what he was doing until it rang again. Sighing, he removed the fingers, licking them clean, and pressing a warm  kiss to your lips before padding over to the dresser to answer the phone.

“Hi mum,” Harry answered giving you a roll of eyes. You laughed, sitting up and moving toward the bathroom. “Yes, we are both still coming over. We just need to shower and get ready and we will be over okay? Okay. Love you. Bye.” Harry hung up and walked over to you, pressing a kiss to the shoulder not covered by your hair. “Mum is very excited to see us.” he mumbled. 

You turned and grinned. “I’m very excited for it as well.” You had decided today was the day. You were going to tell Harry and Anne about the baby. Specifically today because you know Harry had been telling Anne how sick you had been and it would only be so much longer before she realized what was happening. She was good like that, very intuitive. It’s why Harry was such a bad liar now. His mom always knew what he was up to as a kid, he never stood a chance. “In fact...” you mumbled turning to him. “So excited that I have a surprise for her. And you.” You poked his chest with a smirk.

“A surprise?” Harry asked with a grin. “What kind of surprise?”

“If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise...” You kissed him once more before turning back to the bathroom. “Now I’m going to shower and get ready and I suggest you do the same.”

“Well....how about we do that together....” Harry asked softly while his lips pressed to your neck. 

“Well then we better get going.” You laughed grabbing his hand and pulling him into the shower. 

After the two of you were cleaned up and Harry was getting ready for the day you ran into the kitchen and pulled out the two boxes you had wrapped yesterday. One had Harry’s name neatly written on the top and the other had Anne. This is what you had come up with for your reveal. Harry’s box contained a note that said “I’m having your baby, it’s definitely your business.”  A knock off of his Kiwi lyrics and something the two of you constantly joked about. It also contained the pregnancy test you originally took, an ultrasound picture, a onesie that said “if you think I’m cute, you should see my daddy”, and a bear. Anne’s box had a note that said “Mimi, Nana, Granny, Grams, or Grandma, please decide by January 2020.” Inside contained a onesie that said, “Pass me to my grandma”, a baby bottle, binky, and a copy of the ultrasound. You had debated the ideas for a while, but this one was the most unsuspicious because you and Harry had to also give her a birthday present that had arrived much later than expected. 

Harry walked downstairs, eyeing the boxes on the table. “Maybe I could open mine now..” He grabbed the box and you grabbed it back quickly laughing.

“Nice try Haz, but because you took so long to shower we are already going to be late.”

“Who’s fault was that? Hmm...I vaguely remember you the one dropping to your knees and-” You blush and laugh biting your lip softly.

“Okay, okay...we may be equally guilty today. But come on let’s go...” you laughed pulling him to the door. “I’m ready for some cookies...”

You and Harry arrived around 30 minutes late and Anne was standing on the porch waiting. You both climbed out, leaving the gifts in the car and running up to the porch. “Mum!” Harry happily called out, running up and giving her a hug.

“Why are two always late?” she scolded lightly with a laugh.

“It was (y/n)’s fault, she’s always taking so long to get ready.” Harry laughed.

“Oh yeah, blame me.” You laughed walking up and giving Anne a hug.

“Don’t worry dear, I know how long it takes Harry to get moving.” You laughed and gave Harry a smirk, mouthing ‘she loves me more’. He just rolled his eyes and followed the two of you inside. You and Harry sat down, catching up with Anne. Harry told her about the tour, the new songs he was working on, catching up with Liam, Louis, and Niall, and about the praise his album had gotten. You talked about work and how you were planning on touring with Harry. “What about marriage plans...when do you think that will happen?” Anne asked with a smile. You looked over at Harry who blushed and shrugged his shoulders. You and Harry had always talked about getting married but with everything going on, there just didn’t seem to be a lot of time for him to actually consider it or make moves on it. 

“Eventually.” that was Harry’s answer every time. While you wanted to be married, you weren't actually rushing the issue either. You trusted Harry more than anyone else in your life and never had once doubted his love in the 5 years you had been together. When he was ready, you would be too. You just enjoyed having him in your life. Changing the subject Harry looked at you, “What about the surprises?” 

“Oh yeah!” You jumped up, running to the car and grabbing all three gifts. You handed Anne her birthday gift first. It was a large canvas painted with her, Harry, and Gemma. 

“Oh this is lovely.” She smiled. “Thank you both.”

“I have one more surprise for both you and Harry.” you placed the boxes in each of their laps and smiled nervously.  “Harry you might want to go first.” Your heart was beating and your hands sweating. Harry opened his box, his eyes widening at the message and the objects. Tears threatened at his eyes as everything sunk in. The symptoms, the emotions, the onesie and lastly the ultrasound.

“Is this real?” He asked looking up, wiping the falling tears. You nodded, tears also in your eyes now. Harry jumped up and hugged you tightly, still crying. Anne, now curious also opened her box. Her mouth fell open and tears spilled over her cheeks as well. “You’re actually pregnant?”

“Yes.” you cried. Harry didn’t let go, he just held onto you with a smile. He pulled away, wiping your tears and laughing. His hands pressed gently to your stomach. 

Anne also stood up, pulling you and Harry in for hugs. She wiped her tears and looked over at Harry. “I told you.” She laughed.

Harry shook his head with a small laugh. “What?” You asked confused, trying to stop yourself from crying. Anne pulled you back in, rocking you with her.

“I told Harry weeks ago that you were pregnant. He called and said how you were sick every morning and just knew but he said there was no way.” She wiped her eyes again and smiled. “I’m so happy for both of you. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, also wiping your cheeks free of tears. You looked over at Harry who was sat back on the couch going over the ultrasound picture again. You were suddenly very worried he was not happy about it. 

Anne was also watching Harry. “Well, this calls for celebration. You two wait here and I’ll grab the cookies.” 

She left the room and you sat next to Harry quietly. “H?”

“Hm?” he mumbled not looking up from the picture.

Your heart was pounding and tears were now falling down your cheeks again, scared he wasn’t happy. “Are you upset?” you mumble, resting your head on his shoulder.

Harry looked over at you confused. “Upset?” He laughed shaking his head. “Why would I be upset?”

“Idontknow...” you mumbled.

“Babe, this is like the best thing ever. I mean, I’m a little upset you didn’t tell me sooner, but this is something we’ve always talked about, something we have always wanted.”

“I know...I wanted to tell you right away. Like before I even took that test but you were out of town and I- I don’t know I didn’t know how you would react. I mean you have so much going on right now with tour and your music and career...” 

“(y/n).” Harry stopped you, pressing his lips to yours. “I would never have been upset with you. I have a lot going on but nothing is more important than you and our relationship and now our family.” You smiled. “We will do what we need to do with my career.”

“So...you’re happy?”

“Babe.” Harry laughed. “Happy would be an understatement. I mean look at our little baby. Oh my god, I’m going to be a dad. You're going to be a mum. We are adding a baby to the family..” He pointed at the picture and smiled. He turned and kissed you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him back, relieved and excited. Anne came back with a plate of warm cookies and you grabbed three, biting into the warm, chocolate gooeyness. 

“So how far along are you?” Anne asked with a smile. 

“Only 8 weeks..” 

She smiled and Harry laughed. “It all makes sense.”

“What does?” you asked eating another cookie.

“You’ve been SO moody. So overly emotional and the cravings I mean it explains everything.”

“Cravings?” Anne asked amused.

“Mum, we went to the store the other day and she grabbed pudding. I have never in my life see her even want pudding and she was like obsessed with it at the store. And, the other day we were watching tv and she cried like three times during the movie.”

“It was sad!” you defended.

“Not that sad.”

“What movie?” Anne was enjoying the conversation.

“Dunkirk mum, we were watching Dunkirk.”

“To be fair, I cried the same amount watching the first time so, and who wants to watch their husband, and father of their child, drown!”

Harry laughed and you shook your head, snuggling into his chest. “I just can’t believe I’m going to be a grandma.. oh my gosh, wait until the fans and everyone in the press finds out. They will lose their minds.” Anne grabbed Harry’s box looking at his items and smiled. “I love this.” She laughed at the lyrics and the onesie and then pulled the two of you into another hug. “Oh I just can’t wait.”

You smiled and Harry kissed your cheek. “A baby Styles. Who would’ve thought?”

After another hour discussion of everything the two of them had missed, you called Gemma, and told her the news. She cried and you cried and Anne cried and Harry laughed at everyone, taking in all of the moments. 

You and Harry finally left, driving home and crawling into bed exhausted. Harry cuddled close, bending down and pressing kisses to your belly before looking up with a smile. “Have I told you I love you?”

“Yes, but I don’t think you could ever do it enough.”

“I love you.” He kissed you softly. “And I love you little one.” he whispered to the belly.

“We love you too.” You smile, snuggling into his chest, falling asleep to his heart beat and the little butterfly feeling in your stomach.

----

Got this request and loved it. Hope I lived up to your expectations lol

xoxo