#one direction fluff

[harrywavycurly]

I’m a sucker for a fake marriage AU but what if Harry married us for real but because he had to? Or because he was drunk? Then he falls for us for real?🥹😍

Hiiii babes!! I too love a fake marriage AU they just like hit a special spot in my soul! So I changed this slightly, I hope you don’t mind? 😬💖

A/N: This is kinda short but if you want a part 2 let me know and it’ll go into more detail about everything✨

-find all things Lonely here✨

Summary: Harry is just tired of being lonely and well..he knows you are too so what could it hurt to just be together? Aka Harry asks his bestfriend to marry him✨

“Harry please stand up.”

“You didn’t even let me finish what-”

“I don’t need to let you finish to know what getting down on one knee means Harry.” Your words are rushed as you feel your breathing begin to become more rapid due to the overwhelming sense of panic that’s settling in your chest. “Please stand up.” You hear him let out a sigh as he reluctantly stands up but stays standing right in front of where you’re sitting on the edge of the pink and orange striped cushion of your outdoor loveseat, you watch him as he reaches over so he can place the ring box on the table next to you.

“Will you just let me explain myself please?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as he watches how you place your hands in your lap and being messing with the ring on your pinky, a habit he knows you do when you’re nervous or stressed. He immediately takes a small step closer to you when he realizes he’s the cause behind you feeling so uneasy, he kneels down so he’s eye level with you and places a hand over both of yours.

“I’m sorry for just dropping to one knee like that.” He gives your hands a little squeeze as he ducks his head down a bit until you finally meet his gaze. “That was a bit dramatic even for me but I just need to get this out okay? And then when I’m done you can do that thing you love to do and ask me a million questions and I’ll answer all of them.” He looks at you and when you just give him a small nod he smiles and stands up after giving your hands one more reassuring squeeze.

Harry clears his throat and readies himself to give you the detailed explanation as to why he showed up to your house for lunch dressed as if he was headed for an event in his powder pink suit with blue button up underneath, roses in his hand and then before you could even serve him a glass of wine he was down on one knee with a box in his hand. You take a few deep calming breaths reminding yourself that the man in front of you is Harry, your bestfriend and he doesn’t do things for no reason so you’ll sit and listen to him because he’d do the same for you if it was you who’d been down on one knee in front of him not even five minutes ago. He runs a hand through his hair as he finally lets his eyes find yours just as a playful smirk takes over his face as his eyes flicker to the roses on the table next to the loveseat you’re sitting on before returning to you.

“We’ve been friends for what? Eleven years now?” You know by the playfully tone of his voice that he doesn’t actually want you to answer him. “I remember we met at that house party and I was so flattered that you were going to let me be the first frat boy to take you home.” You roll your eyes as the memory of meeting Harry replays in your mind.

It was at a college house party and he was in the kitchen with a red solo cup in his hand, a backwards SnapBack covering up his beautiful head of curls, a red flannel half buttoned and a pair of black skinny jeans. You thought he looked actually like the fraternity boys your fiends had warned you about but there was something different about him, the way his smile seemed so genuine when he saw you walk into the small space and offered you a drink and it was when you saw the dimples and heard his accent that you knew you were in trouble. The two of you stuck together the rest of the party and when it was starting to get too wild for your taste you told him he could take you home and Harry who’s always been a gentleman, said his place was closer.

“Then you had to go and ruin the moment by throwing up all over my boots.”

“I ruined the moment? It wasn’t the fact you weren’t even a frat boy but just a member of some boyband who liked to crash college parties?” This makes Harry let out a huff as he shakes his head at your teasing.

“Some boyband? That’s a bit rude love.” He playfully glares at you as you lean back and get more comfortable in your seat. “But that’s also the night we became bestfriends because as I helped you get home and held your hair while you got sick we just talked all night and if I remember correctly which we both know my memory is one of my strong suits then that’s also the first time you stole one of my shirts.” The playful smile that’s on his lips makes you look down at your hands in your lap and lift a shoulder in a casual shrug.

“You gave it to me.” You argue as you look up making Harry just nod as the smile on his face grows.

“I did didn’t I?” He asks and the look on his face tells you he was almost testing you to see if you remember the night the same way he does. “You remember the kiss right? In the backyard by-”

“The pool. Yes Harry I remember.” You don’t know why the memory of Harry kissing you drunkenly by a pool at a house party makes your cheeks get warm in embarrassment but it does. “What’s this have to do with you getting down on one knee?” You want him to get on with the explanation because going down memory lane with him isn’t something you’re sure you have the energy for right now.

“Right. Sorry.” He shake his head as if to try to refocus his thoughts on what he’s actually trying to get across to you. “I feel like I have everything I could ever want in life. I have more money than I know what to do with and I have a career that I love and I’m finally at a place where I can just sit back and enjoy all the hard work I’ve done over the last fifteen years of my life and relax a little but taking this time off has made me realize something.” Your eyes meet his as he lets out a sigh as he looks into your eyes and you swear you see a hint of sadness tucked away in the dark specks of his bright green eyes. “I don’t have anyone to share my life with. I know I have my family and friends but I’m still so fucking lonely.” His voice is lower than before and your heart aches for him, you know Harry isn’t one that’s ever dealt with being alone very well and all this free time has been a little harder on him than he intended it to be.

“I just want to be with someone that makes saying goodbye hard and that makes me want to rush home just because I know they’re there waiting for me.” The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights the small smile that wants to form. “I want to be someone’s husband and I think that someone should be you.” You feel your mouth drop open as your eyes widen at his statement.

Harry lets you have a few moments to let his words sink in as he takes a few steps towards the table the roses are on so he can grab the box he had in hands when he was down on one knee. He gently opens the top and reaches in and takes the simple gold band out and holds it between his index finger and thumb before placing the empty box back on the table. When he looks over at you he just gives you a reassuring grin when he sees you’re already looking up at him.

“I know you’re lonely too sweetheart.” You let out a shaky breath as he kneels down in front of you and gently grabs your left hand. “But you don’t have to be anymore.” Your eyes glance down at your hand as Harry starts to slowly slide the band on your ring finger. “We already have a great foundation because no one knows you better than me right?” He gives you a playful wink as he slides the band past your knuckle.

“Like I know how you take your coffee in the morning and how you need to be held when you’re upset. I know how to make your perfect bubble bath and I can tell if you’re in a bad mood just by the way you text me. I know when you need red wine and when you need white or when you just need a bottle of tequila and a lime. I know all your fears and I know all the amazing dreams you have and I’ll happily help you make them come true if you’ll let me.” You sniffle as you feel your eyes start to have that familiar sting letting you know you’re a few moments away from full on crying.

“Harry-”

“I love you and I know you’re going to tell me it’s not the same as being in love with you but I think that will come with time? Don’t you? I know you love me too and I don’t see how this couldn’t work? It’s not even like the physical stuff would be weird because we’ve hooked-”

“You shouldn’t marry someone just because you’re lonely Harry.” You have to stop him from saying anything else as you feel a few tears escape from your eyes as they roll down your cheeks and before you can wipe them away Harry has his hands cupping the sides of your face and his thumbs are gently swiping them away.

“I’m lonely yes but that’s not the only reason why I want to marry you. I think you might be my person and I just spent too long trying to just keep you in my life anyway that I could and now I just can’t imagine myself being anyone else’s husband but yours.” He knows he sounds crazy but he also knows he’s talking to you, the one person who understands him the most.

“Why now?” You ask as you reach up and place one of your hands over his that’s still holding the side of your face.

“We aren’t getting any younger love so figured it was now or never.” His answer makes you chuckle as you lean into his touch. “I know this is a lot and if you need some time that’s fine.” You just nod as he leans forward and places a kiss to your forehead, you drop your hand from the top of his so he can release the sides of your face. “Just don’t take too much time yeah? You know how I get.” He half heartedly jokes as he stands up, you watch him look down at your hand and a small smile creeps onto his face as he sees the gold band sitting nicely on your ring finger.

“Call me when you’re ready sweetheart.” Is all he says as he leans down and kisses the top of your head before he turns and heads towards the gate of your backyard that will take to your driveway where his car is parked. You just sit there and stare at the ring on your finger as you hear the sound of his car starting up, you feel your eyes fill with a new wave of tears as the sound of his car backing out of your driveway hits your ears.

“Oh god.” You mumble to yourself as you place your head in your hands as the events of the afternoon really hit you, your bestfriend really asked you to marry him. You close your eyes as you come to the understanding that while he admitted he does love you he’s not in love with you, making you face something that you’ve been trying to avoid for years, the fact you actually are in love with him. So now you’re left with two choices, marry him and hope he does one day fall in love with you or tell him no and hope it doesn’t ruin the friendship the two of you have.

[strawnarrries]

because im sad about the last show, here's a little imagine about y/n and harry reminiscing the past two years the night before the last show :(

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic

Your eyes fluttered open and you realized it was still dark outside, a sign that it was not quite morning just yet. You're not sure why you woke up. It was like your body knew something was off because when you turned over, the bed was empty beside you.

Rubbing your eyes to clear the sleepy haze, you noticed light coming from under the closed door of the bedroom in the villa you and Harry are staying in. Getting up out of bed, you opened the door and the sudden change in lighting burned your eyes. After getting used to it, you walked towards the kitchen and spotted your husband, leaning up against the counter, sipping on something inside of a mug.

“Harry?” you hummed, walking up to him.

“Oh hey, did I wake you up? I’m sorry," he looked up at you with doe eyes and messy hair sticking up in every direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep.”

You popped your bottom lip out and wrapped your arms around his bare waist, his instinctively wrapping around yours after setting his mug on the counter, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just can't believe the last show's tomorrow night.”

“Aw, I know. You wanna talk about it?” you hummed, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"I'm gonna miss it. A lot," he whispered, "but at the same time I'm excited for a long break."

"It's bittersweet."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"It's gonna be weird not getting to watch you on stage every night in your sparkly outfits."

He chuckled softly, "You don't get those outfits at home, do ya?"

"No, I get you either naked or in the one stupid shirt that you refuse to throw away even though it's practically in shreds."

"Thought you loved that shirt?" he teased.

You glared up at him before changing the subject, "What'dya think you'll miss the most? Just being on stage?"

"Yeah. Performing. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do. I just get such a rush from being out there and interacting with the fans and hearing them scream my lyrics."

"And hearing them bark at you," you added.

He giggled, "Yes, that too."

"You'll be back though. It's not the end."

“You're right. I feel like this tour was just special for some reason, I dunno. I fear I’m gonna get really emotional tomorrow on stage though. I was holding back tears at the show the other night," he chuckled.

“It’s okay to get emotional. You know me and your mom will be sobbing the entire night."

He smiled softly as he cupped your jaw and rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheek, "I've been reflecting a lot recently. So much has happened in the last two years. It's wild."

“You've done, like what, 150 shows?”

“169 tomorrow."

“Holy shit, Harry. Most of them were completely sold out too. Do you realize how incredible that is?”

“It's mad. I think this has been the most successful tour I’ve ever been on.”

“Oh, by far.”

“Gonna miss seeing everyone every day. Gonna miss the fans and being up on stage. I've had some of the best shows of my life on this tour.”

“Harryween,” you giggled fondly at the memory that popped into your head.

“That was fun as fuck,” he giggled back.

“You’ve done more than just tour though. So many award shows, Coachella, music videos, you starred in two different movies, Harry.”

“I have,” he nodded, smiling proudly at himself, "Looking back, the amount of love and support that I've gotten from everyone, the fans, my team, my friends, and family, and from you is just - it's - it's so overwhelming like I can't even explain it to you. Like my mind can't comprehend that this is my life. Been 13 years and I still can't believe it."

"'cause you deserve it, baby. With the amount of love you give out and just the type of person you are in general, you deserve everything that's come your way. Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?" you teased, being the fact that those words leave your lips multiple times after every single one of his accomplishments.

"Never. Not once," he chuckled.

“Well, I am,” you hummed pressing a sweet kiss to his sternum, just under where his cross necklace lay, "It makes me feel so prideful that I get to call you my husband."

“Thank you, my love. You know I wouldn't be here without you.”

You rested your head on his warm chest, hugging him tighter, embracing the sweet silence before breaking it, "Can I be honest with you?”

He nodded as you looked back up at him.

“I know it's selfish but a big part of me is excited that it’s over because then I get you all to myself and don’t have to share you with the world.”

“Finally don’t have to hear you nagging for my attention all the time,” he chuckled.

“Heyyyyyy,” you whined.

“I’m joking, baby.”

You rolled your eyes teasingly.

“We have a lot to look forward to.”

“Like what?” he asked, although he knew exactly what you were referencing to, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“You becoming a daddy.”

“Really lookin forward to that. I can’t wait ‘till you have a cute little baby bump.”

“Gotta get me pregnant first.”

"You don't gotta worry 'bout that. We’re gonna be goin' at it all day every day when we’re on holiday next month,” he smirked.

“I can't even explain to you how excited I am for that. Vacation Harry is my favorite Harry."

He grinned, “I love you, Y/N."

“I love you too.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a few sweet kisses before you hummed sleepily, “Will you come back to bed with me now?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

[1d1195]

Masterlist

Old Stories (2015-2019) - Read at your own risk; most are garbage

New Stories (2020 - present)

I'm mostly writing about Harry these days but you'll find all of One Direction up above.

Recently posted: The Lottery Part II

Chances

Neighbors Extra VII Read Neighbors here

Currently Writing: Not sure atm

Anons: 💜 - 🎶 - 🐱 - 🧸 - 🪁 - 🍒 - 🖤 - 🌼 - 👩🏻‍🔬 - 🍓 - 🎀 - 🛼 - 🍉 - 🪴

If you would like to donate to my Ko-Fi that would be greatly appreciated.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

I was wondering if you could write something like maybe the reader playa the guitar a little bit and Harry doesn't know that. One night she can't sleep so she goes out in the living room sees his guitar plays it a bit and Harry gets up. And then some fluffy h please?

Absolutely adore your works.

Late-night serenades

Word Count: 514 (sorry this is short)

Warnings: None, just pure fluff

my masterlist | ask box

The moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the dimly lit room. Harry lay peacefully asleep, his soft snores the only sound in the room. On the other side of the bed, you were wide awake, your mind racing and sleep elusive.

You gently slid out of bed and tiptoed into the living room, hoping not to wake Harry. As you wandered into the living room, your gaze fell upon Harry's guitar, which stood in its stand, the moonlight from the curtains casting a soft glow on it.. You'd always admired it, and you knew Harry was an excellent guitar player, but he didn't know you could play a little too.

Curiosity and restlessness got the better of you, and you reached for the guitar. Carefully picking it up, you plucked a few strings, creating a soft, melodic tune. The music seemed to fill the room, weaving through the quiet of the night.

Lost in the gentle melodies you were creating, you didn't notice that Harry had stirred in the bedroom. He couldn't quite place the sound but was instantly alert. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and followed the sound of the guitar.

As he entered the living room, his eyes fell upon you playing the guitar, a look of surprise and delight crossing his face. He leaned against the doorway, listening to the music you were making.

You finally looked up and noticed him. "I couldn't sleep," you explained sheepishly, "so I thought I'd give this a try."

Harry's smile widened, and he walked over to you. "You're really good," he whispered, his voice warm and tender.

Blushing slightly, you handed him the guitar. "Your turn," you said with a mischievous grin.

Harry took the guitar and began to play the melody of “Fine Line.” The two of you continued to play and sing into the night, getting lost in each other's harmonies. The soft strumming of the guitar accompanied your laughter and whispered words.

As the hours passed, your voices intertwined, and the music became something exquisite and exceptional, a really beautiful tune you both could’ve never imagined. In the gentle moments of silence between songs, you exchanged sweet words.

"You know, I love these late-night serenades," Harry whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "Especially when they come from you."

You smiled, your heart feeling as light as the music in the room. "I never told you, but I've always admired your guitar skills. And now I get to play alongside you."

Harry's fingers brushed against yours as he played a soft chord. "This is perfect, love. Playing music with you makes it even more beautiful."

The night seemed endless, and your shared music became the soundtrack of your love story. The warmth of your love enveloped you, creating a memory that would forever be etched in your hearts.

Eventually, you grew sleepy, and Harry gently set the guitar aside, placing it on the couch. You shifted into his arms, and he wrapped them around you. You both fell asleep quickly, his heartbeat lulling you into peaceful dreams.

>>>

happy reading! xx

if you liked this, tip me here!

>>>

taglist:

@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @avalentina

let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[wherebrkenheartsgo]

Texting Boyfriend Harry Styles Part 1: That’s Odd

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this introduction to this series!✨

[yourimagines]

What he likes about you Fluff

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Fluff

A = Admiration, what he absolutely adore about you: That you come up for yourself, your not afraid to tell people your opinions.

B = Body, what is his favorite part of your body: Your lips, they way they feel when he kisses you, the way you bite down on your lip when he makes you all shy, the way you smile.

C = Cuddling, how he likes to cuddle: He's like to be the big spoon but also the small spoon, he just loves to cuddle you.

D = Dates, what his ideal date with you would look like: Going out, drink and have fun.

E = Emotions, how he express his emotions around you: He knows how to communicate with his emotions, he isn't afraid to cry or show he's a bit angry but he would never harm you no matter what.

F = Family, does he want one? If he does, when: Yes, he wants children, he wants them with you and he's already a father and would love to be a family with you.

G = Gifts, how he feels about gift giving? What is his habit when it comes to this: He loves to spoil you, he doesn't care what others think about it, he gives whatever you want. He orders stuff what you placed in your wish list, surprising you with it. He also brings you your favorite snacks from the store.

H = Holding Hands, when/how he likes to hold hands: Always holds your hands in public but also when your laying together, cuddling.

I = Injury, how he would act if you got hurt: He would freak out, he already lost to many people he loves, he would be angry at himself for letting this happen to you.

J = Jokes, does he likes to joke around with or prank you and how: He loves to joke around, giving you sarcastic remarks or saying the obvious things, he likes to see you laugh and rolls your eyes at him.

K = Kisses, how he likes to kiss you: Pecking you lips when you talk to him, or just holding your face and just kissing you deeply.

L = Love, how he shows you he loves you: Always texting you or calling when he's away, Saying ever day he loves you, asking you you feel. He's always checking in on you, He cares to much that it hurt him sometimes.

M = Memory, favorite memory together: Meeting his family, seeing how much he loves them and how much they love him. The pranks and the fun that day, they all loved you and he fell even more in love with you but that day taught you sometime that life is too short and you better enjoy it.

N = Nightmare, what is his worst fear: Losing you, he already lost so many people in his life. He needs to check in with you every day, he needs to know your okay.

O = Oddity, what is one quirk he haves: His sarcasm, he's also sarcastic with you. You don't mind and sometimes you get him back at his own games.

P = Pet Names, what he likes to call you: Love and darling.

Q = Quality Time, how he likes to spend time with you: Spending time with his family, enjoying life and loves to stay at home and just enjoy each others presence.

R = Rhythm, what song reminds you of him: My blood from twenty one pilots. You both would do anything for each other, you cheer him up and he does the something with you. When you hear this song it reminds you of him, doing anything for you because he loves you.

S = Secrets, how open is he with you: He tells you everything, how he feels, what he saw on the road. He has no secrets for you.

T = Time, how long did it take you to get together: It took a while, he was afraid and unsure about himself, till one of his sister said he should asked you to be his before he's actually to late.

U = Upset, how does he acts when you’re upset: He tries to understand but sometimes he just doesn't get it. He always tries to cheer you up and give you some advice and just be there for you, it pains him when he can't help you and cheer you up.

V = Vaunt, what is he proud of, Does he likes to show you off: He's proud you stick up for yourself, he even says to to his fans to not mess around with you because your just like him.

W = Warrior, how would he feel about you fighting? Would he fight for you: He would be proud and joins you, he always has your back and would punch anyone who wants to hurt you.

X = X-Ray, how well can he read you: He knows they way you react if somethings wrong, he knows when you love something or when your angry/hurt.

Y = Yes, how would he propose to you: Somewhere private at a holiday trip.

Z = Zen, what makes him feel calm: knowing your okay, makes him feel calm. knowing your safe and happy with him.

[33-81]

Italy with Harry

[fallingforel]

Love your work!!, could you please do prompt 18 “I’ve got you.”

louis fluff - something happens to y/n and the 1D boys comfort her till lou gets there and then says that line and lovey stuff!! absolutely love for protective louis shots😭

request: could you do prompt 18 “I’ve got you.” with louis fluff please! like something happens to y/n and the other boys find her crying or scared and comfort her until louis shows up and he gets protective and just showers her in comfort words and gestures or something! i live for protective lou🥲 sorry if that’s all over the place i don’t word things great😭

A/N of course I can lovelys, this is probably gonna be one of my favourite requests to write so thank you

warnings: panic attack, mentions of death, mentions of cancer, hypochondria, mentions of shootings, parent death, PTSD attack, Mentions of claustrophobia, mentions of smoking (is that even one idk 😅😅)

words: 773

⋆｡°✩

⋆｡°✩

I always have been panic attack prone my whole life, well since my mum had been in a freak accident of being shot at in a supermarket here in the U.K I was with her but the shooter only shot at my mum and not me. it was very rare to be shot at in the U.K. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and you were very lucky to escape it my dad always tells me Though I think it's only to keep me from having anxiety attacks when I think back to it I was 10 when it happened so I was old enough to understand what had happened, even when I didn't want to. My dad had since then bought my brothers and me up. I had met Louis when we both worked in Toys R us and we hit it off instantly and I had signed him up for x-factor after our first date in a karaoke bar in leeds we made a whole day trip to leeds for our first date.

I could feel one coming on as soon as Harry, niall and I got back to the tour bus. We had all gone out for food. Zayn, Liam and Louis had stayed behind to smoke cigarettes so Niall Harry and I had opted to go back to the tour bus. Sometimes I smoke but I was too full and had a headache all day. I think the headache caused it, I also have hypochondria so this hightens my PTSD because I think I have cancer or something and then I panic and it leads into a full anxiety attack. They are never pretty but Louis' there through all of them and knows exactly how to calm me down when I'm going through them.

My breathing quickens "y/n/n are you okay? You look really pale." Niall asks but I barely hear it before I'm dropping to the floor and crying "shit. y/n, can you focus on my voice for me?" Harry says. But in amongst the ringing its very hard to make out My breathing quickens again and I start to shake. "shit, Ni call Louis tell him to come back. It's one of the worse ones" the ringing loudens before I'm squinting my eyes shut and saying "STOP MAKE IT STOP DONT SHOOT!"

A few minutes of ringing and my sobs fill the air before Louis taps on my chest "Hey darling, You're okay. Focus on the tapping can you do that for me?" he asks me which I nod to. "good darling keep doing that for me"

-LOUIS POV-

"Harry can you take her jumper off for me I need to keep tapping her chest I can't do it myself" He nods and is quick to do so "what now?" "get her pyjamas from my bunk shes gonna want to change, she's all sweaty. Niall can you get a cold glass of water and a cold wet flannel aswell, she's burning up she's stressed. After that can you all leave the room. Just leave everything In a pile next to me I'll sort it out, she needs space this is making everything worse, the cramped tour bus doesnt help. just all wait outside please." They are all quick to nod and do as I have said.

As soon as everyone is off the tour bus I'm stripping her out of her top and pulling mine off too and pulling her close to me so we can do skin to skin

"right, now darling focus on my breathing can you do that for me breathe with me In. two three four. Out, two three four. Good girl thats it keep doing that for me. I've got you" and she follows enough so that she's calm and her breath is back to normal.

"What even happened babe?" I say "Headache, you know my hypochondria aggrivates the PTSD I think that I've got cancer then I'm going to die and then I think of death then my mum then the day it all went down"

"I see, I see. I knew I should've gone with you, knew something bad would happen the moment you left my side."

"No, don't be so silly. It would've happened either way. I would've calmed down eventually whether you were here or not"

"No you wouldn't have"

"Lou, Babe. don't blame yourself you nor I can control when they happen you know that. Dont be so silly. I know you'll always be there when they stop You've got me always."

" i know, I've got you, always darling"

⋆｡°✩

end.

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[colmiillo]

Seriously, you again, reading a fic about a person who doesn't even know you exist,OR WORST,doesn't even exist........same thing sis. Keep reading

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: You’ve been Harry’s bestfriend for over ten years, having met him back when he was still wearing snapbacks and flannel shirts with skinny jeans it’s safe to say you’ve been there for him throughout most of his career. After meeting you Harry didn’t want to risk losing you so he made the choice to not allow himself to see you as anything but his bestfriend, minus the few times the two of you have shared some drunken kisses and hookups. Meanwhile you couldn’t help falling in love with him because how could you not? But all of that changes when you invite Harry over to lunch one day and before you can even offer him a glass of wine he is dropping to one knee and asking you to marry him, why? Because he’s lonely and he knows you’re lonely too so why not just be together?✨

Pairing: Harry x fem!reader, Harry x bff!fiancé

Status: Ongoing

Trope: Friends to lovers and if you squint it’s kind of fake marriage au but only kinda sorta.

CW: None it’s pure fluffy mushy goodness with only like the tiniest bit of angst

A/N: This series is requests based, since it started off as a request so all updates will be from what y’all request. I just figured it was easier to have all the parts and extras for this pairing in one place✨

Requests: Here (open)

Tag List: Open just let me know if you’d like on it💖

Conversations: Here

Instagrams: Here

Extras: Here

*you’ll find all the parts down bellow in the correct order*

Part 1: Lonely

Part 2: Catch Up

Part 3: Caffeine

Part 4: Make it Quick

Part 5: Our House

Part 6: Marriage ?’s

Part 7: Man of Honor

Part 8: Don’t Remember

Part 9: Centerpieces

Part 10: I’m Fine

Part 11: Found It

Part 12: Five Days

Part 13: Vegas

Part 14: Competition (holiday blurb)

[strawnarrries]

Niall fluff PLS

dad niall pulling out his dad skills on his wife

Squeezing the water out of your hair, you swung open the glass door and stepped out of the shower, onto the soft, white rug in front of the door. You grabbed your towel on the hook against the wall and wrapped it around your shoulders. Your husband stood in front of his sink on his side of the bathroom counter, washing his face. You looked up at him once you heard his thick, Irish accent echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Baby, why are ya bleedin’?” he asked frantically, ignoring the foamy face wash dripping down his neck.

You looked down at where he was staring and saw a small cut just below your kneecap, blood pooling at the opening and leisurely trickling down your leg, reminding you of your mistake a few minutes ago, “Oh, I accidentally cut myself with my razor.”

“Ya got yourself good didntcha?” he asked before preceding to aggressively rub the soap into his face.

“Yeah, it hurt so bad,” you replied while drying off your body, avoiding wiping the blood on the towel.

“Gimme a sec and I'll help ya” he hummed before splashing his face with water, washing away the soap.

"I'm okay," you giggled at him, heart swelling at how sweet he was to you.

While you squeezed the water out of your hair with the towel before wrapping it around your body, Niall patted his face dry with a washcloth before bending down and grabbing a bandaid out from the bottom drawer.

"Niall, I don't need a bandaid, it's just a little cut," you protested but he didn't listen. It was like he never heard you in the first place.

After grabbing a tissue, he walked over to you, crouched down, and was now face-to-face with your wound.

"Niall," you giggled at him, looking down at watching him.

"My poor baby," he pouted, pressing a sweet kiss to your kneecap.

He wiped away the blood with a tissue before quickly sticking the bandaid against your cut. He pressed a kiss over the bandaid before standing back up with a popping sound from his knees and throwing away the wrappers.

"All better. I even kissed your boo-boo," he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist covered by the damp towel.

"You're so dramatic," you giggled at him.

He gave you a peck on the lips before replying, "Am not. My girl is crippled. Can't walk now, can she?"

He knew you were right, but he just liked seeing you grin.

"C'mere, baby girl," he grunted, picking you up bridal style, "I've gotcha."

"Becoming a dad to a toddler has got you all babyie," you giggled.

"That's not a word," he replied with a chuckle.

He walked into your shared bedroom, gently setting you down on your bed while you squealed, "Niall, I'm not even dressed yet, I'm still wet."

"Two of my favorite versions of you," he smirked, punching his eyebrows up at you, "Naked and wet."

"Oh my gosh, stop," you giggled, immediately getting off of the bed, "You're gonna get my side of the bed wet and then I'm gonna have to sleep in the guest bedroom."

"Look whose bein' dramatic now," he teased.

"You don't get me naked or wet now!" you teased back before storming back into the bathroom.

"Wha-Y/N, c'mon!"

You couldn't help but giggle.

~

i cant figure out if i think this idea is cringy or cute lol lmk what you all think

[1d1195]

Buttercup

~7.8k words

From me: I love a knight in shining armor moment. Grumpy sunshine, black cat and golden retriever kind of vibe. There are definitely some details missing on purpose here. Best of luck. Hope you like it 💕 Sorry for the delay in posting. What a week.

Warnings: dick ex-bf - cheating, emotional trauma, threatening. Angry Harry, neighbor Harry, some mentions of sex, a good bit of angst, and some fluff.

Summary: Harry's new neighbor is fun to prank. She just wants to tend to her garden and enjoy her chocolate in peace.

But it's... comforting to know Harry is right next door.

The boys that lived next door weren’t too loud, weren’t super messy, and they were easy on the eyes.

But that was the furthest she could compliment them.

Well, Louis was really lovely overall. He had a girlfriend that came by frequently (almost daily) and appeared to keep him in check. But there was no one to keep Harry in check. He walked around his yard in his boxers, got the mail in them even, and both greeted his sexual partner(s) then sent her on her way off his property the following morning in nothing but boxers as well.

All with a smug smile in her direction while he wore nothing but underwear and the ink etched on his unbelievably smooth skin.

Stupid hot people.

Regardless of what he was doing, he was always sure to irritate her if she was outside. “Hi Buttercup,” he cooed like they were old friends while she worked in her garden. It was clearly her favorite part of the house. It desperately needed a new coat of paint, and she didn’t care in the slightest. The flowers were more important, and she did a good job. Clearing the flowerbeds happened before all her boxes were officially inside her house.

She thought about the day she arrived.

When she moved in, she took a deep breath, pulled her hair into a ponytail and tugged it through the back of a baseball cap. One by one, she pulled a box out of her car and brought it inside. A storage pod was dropped in the driveway as well and then she began the same process after taking a short break while she looked at what she needed to do first. She leaned against her car and felt anxiety and a serious case of being overwhelmed start to fill her chest. She took deep breaths hoping the sugar she ingested would help ease her worried mind.

“Hey, neighbor!” She turned to the voice where a guy with brown hair and blue eyes smiled brightly at her. “I’m Louis, welcome to our neighborhood. It’s nice to meet you. Need help?”

She shook her head quickly. Almost defensive as she aimed to protect herself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Louis glanced at her storage pod and tilted his head at her curiously. It was a lot to unpack on her own.

Metaphorically and literally.

“You’re sure?” He asked. “My roommate saw you from the window. Thought you were... well, not struggling... But it’s a lot to move for anyone. He’s changing, he’ll be right out to help too,” he explained and rubbed the back of his head. “My girlfriend was on the phone and overheard Harry, and she insisted as well.”

She thought that he was nice. A friendly neighbor if there ever was one. But the wall of anxiety she put up and the nerve she was feigning to keep up was battling something fierce. “Right,” she cleared her throat. She would need an ally. There was no one in this new town for her and Louis seemed nice.

Levi seemed nice too... she thought.

Shaking her head she tried to rid herself of the negative outlook. Louis wasn’t Levi. “That... that’s really nice. Thank you. If you’re sure.”

Louis’ best friend and roommate Harry soon joined them. Introduced himself and she sincerely thought they were just two nice guys who would be decent neighbors.

The second they dropped the first load of her stuff safely inside Harry began his pranks. “Is this box labeled underwear up for grabs?”

There was no box labeled underwear. She knew that. But it still made her cheeks burn with embarrassment even though Louis rolled his eyes as if was used to it. Which she supposed he was. “Christ, Harry,” Louis sighed and pinched between his eyes. “I’m sorry, love. We don’t let him out of the house much.”

She looked at him with an eye roll. He was cute. She would give him that.

Well, hot.

Enticing green eyes, sinewy muscles, and a smile so bright it could put the sun to shame. He knew he was hot. There was no way he didn’t. But she wasn’t going to let him get to her.

“Where are y’moving from?” Harry asked.

“Uh...” she shook her head trying to remember what lie she was supposed to say. But then went with most of the truth. “Just upstate, a few hours away. I got a new job and whatnot.”

“New modeling job?”

“Boo...” Louis droned, grumbling as he moved boxes labeled kitchen into the correct room. “If you’re going to embarrass yourself, you could use better material.”

“This is m’best material, Lou,” he scowled at his friend. Her cheeks were still burning at his shameless flirting.

“I know he’s obnoxious, but he’s harmless,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Excuse you, Louis. M’not obnoxious.”

“The shit you say,” he shook his head.

“I jus’ think you’re gorgeous,” his eyelashes did all the flirting for him when his words stopped.

But whether Harry was flirting or not, she didn’t want to flirt with her neighbor. Didn’t want to have a boyfriend. Certainly not one with all the charisma he had around her.

Even if he was flirty and charming.

And hot.

There was no denying how hot Harry was.

So she would have to be careful.

*

“Looking good, Buttercup.”

She glared at the tulip bulbs she was planting in front of her door for the spring. She adjusted the planters of mums placed on the porch steps. A variety of gold, orange, brown and red. Perfect for fall and the idyllic picture for a magazine cover. There were pumpkins on the side of the bottom step greeting anyone at her home with the pretty festive colors. A cute scarecrow was staked among fake corn stalks and hay beside the pumpkins.

It was unseasonably warm for November but for the last two months, and even though Harry drove her crazy, she wanted to be outside enjoying the sunshine and fresh air while she could. She had listened to Harry’s flirting with her since the moment she moved in. He was blatant about it. But in the same timeframe, she watched him with women coming and going. Of course, it didn’t bother her one bit who he spent his time with; that was his choice, and he had no obligation to her or the women he took home as long as he wasn’t a complete douchebag to them.

But Harry always seemed to be there. He was there when she got her mail. There when she got home from work. There when she was going to work. It didn’t matter. Didn’t he have to work? “Are businesses too intelligent to hire you?”

“No?” He chuckled phrasing it as a question.

“Just assumed, since you’re never at work.”

He snorted. “Funny.” She continued tending to her flowers. “I work from home.”

Perfect. So he would continue to always be there. Some people had all the luck.

He wasn’t in his boxers for a change. An interesting change of pace. He was in a pair of plain jogging pants and a plain T-shirt, yet he was the one that looked like a model for Nike.

Men had it so easy being attractive. A pair of workout pants and a T-shirt that outlined his pectorals way too tightly was all it took to get her flustered.

He sat beside her and watched her work. “Y’should do our garden, next Buttercup. Looks so nice the way y’put everything together.”

She paused and stared at him. His eyes roamed her little planters and across the weedless yard. He smiled at her as his gaze returned to hers. “You’re making fun of me,” she scowled.

“Kitten,” he pressed a hand over his heart, looking affronted. “I would never make fun of you.”

She looked back at the dirt that was under her nails. She focused on the feeling of it rather than the feeling of dread she felt around Harry. He was so confident in himself and in everything he did. It was annoying. His stupid green eyes and his dumb smile. She couldn’t fall for it again. No matter how sincere he sounded.

“Y’look really pretty in y’garden,” his voice was gentle. Like he was worried she was going to throw something at him. She had considered it. Her trowel seemed like it could do some damage. But she was trying not to be completely ridiculous just because Harry was a pain.

And sickening.

And irritating.

And cute.

Fortunately, she had a list of things to remind herself of that he was a nuisance. Not to mention there were his pranks that made her crazy.

He sprayed her with the hose when she wasn’t looking. Sent mail to her house for porn addiction making the mailman look at her with a smirk before she screamed at Harry (which didn’t help the look the mailman was giving her). At the beginning of October, he put a Halloween mask outside her window to scare her when she woke up so terrifyingly that Louis and Eleanor rushed over in their pajamas. While nothing was irreparable or worth putting her into therapy, the jokes made her mad because Harry always made her mad. He was too good looking and too there all the time.

Instead, she continued weeding and planting. Making the previously bare flower beds green and brown with freshly overturned dirt. It was calming. Being in the garden, the yard. Dirt on her hands and the sun on her back.

“Cat got your tongue, Buttercup?” He joked.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“The more y’ignore me, kitten, jus’ makes me want y’more.”

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

“Ugh, will you marry me?”

“You’re so ridiculous, Harry.”

“God, y’drive me wild.”

She continued digging in the dirt. “If you’re going to sit there and be annoying, can you at least be useful and hand me the watering can?”

Harry silently grabbed the can and poured the water into the hole, watching her carefully. “I used t’garden with m’Mum.”

“You didn’t just spawn from the ground climbing out of hell?”

Harry chuckled quietly. “No, m’mum’s a saint,” he said with a smile. The fondness in his voice and reverence for her made her heart skip a beat. He was so annoying but that was undoubtedly beyond sweet. Even if it was Harry saying it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your mother.”

“Y’didn’t. I know what y’meant,” he chuckled. “Mum would like you,” he told her. Which absolutely terrified her because mothers often did. It made things more complicated. Like it had in the past.

“She would like me? I’m an absolute bitch to you, Harry.”

“Hey,” he frowned. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his voice continued making her throat catch on any rebuttal she wanted to say in return. The pucker of skin between his eyebrows made her want to reach out and smooth his skin. His frown made her sad too. Before she could push the feeling away, he spoke again. “You’re funny. Stubborn. Adorable. Mum would like that y’keep me grounded,” he complimented.

“Keeping you grounded is the nice way of saying bitchy.”

He sighed, irritation practically rolling off him in waves. That was new. “Seriously, kitten. Knock it off,” he shook his head disappointedly.

She blinked, surprised by the genuine tone. “You’re serious?”

“Jus’ because y’say it ‘bout yourself doesn’t make it better.”

For a whole minute she seriously thought about how easy it would be to fall for Harry. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, and funny. Even if he was obnoxious. Louis and Eleanor kept him around for a reason, right? For God’s sake he wouldn’t let her call herself a bitch. Who did that?! “Um... sorry?”

“Apology not accepted. You’ll have t’go on a date with me. S’the only way t’make it up t’me.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bulbs she was planting. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Alright fine; I’ll jus’ have t’think of something else,” he sighed, pausing, like he was really thinking about how she could make it up to him.

Then he smeared a clod of cold, wet dirt across her cheek.

She spluttered trying to avoid dirt in her mouth and reached out to smack him. However, he was nearly giggling, practically running back to his house before she could register what really happened and retaliate. “See y’later, Buttercup!” He called.

*

One of Harry’s ongoing pranks involved slipping his phone number into her contacts early on when he met her. It happened shortly after she moved in, and it allowed him to send her memes and inappropriate messages (not the kind of unsolicited messages that only complete dicks sent to women who did not want them) but the ones that he found on the internet. Inappropriate jokes. Innuendos.

But he also texted her when he was heading to the grocery store to see if she needed anything. But in the time that they exchanged messages, she never started the conversations. It was always a Leave me alone Harry. No thank you. Can you stop staring out the window like a creep? If she needed something she asked Louis, which honestly upset him to a degree, but he understood. Harry came on strong when he met her. Not that he would change that, but it wasn’t unreasonable of her to feel standoffish to him.

God, was she beautiful. Harry loved seeing her in the yard. Made it a point to drop everything he was doing and go get a closer look. He was drawn to her. Moth to a flame. The whole bit. She was so funny, even when she was grumpy. He wasn’t joking when he told her that her ignoring him made him want her more.

She was a hard worker and left early in the morning and returned well into dinner time. While the weather was nice, she would sit on her porch and read or work tirelessly on her perfect garden. She was lovely. Harry could see it from afar and he was bummed she didn’t catch on to his shameless flirting the way he had hoped when he first saw her.

One of these days I’d like you to text me instead of Louis when you need something. Louis already has a girlfriend.

From the looks of it you have PLENTY of options for a girlfriend.

Jealous?

Of getting a disease? No. I’m good.

Your green thumb is spreading, Buttercup. It’s not your color.

You can ignore me all you want. Just think about it. It doesn’t have to be a thing. I just want you to know I’m happy to help you if you need it. Not just Louis.

Also, I’m clean in case you ever want to explore that side of things too 😉

Surprisingly, she ignored that message too.

*

Harry felt like he was going through withdrawals from her. He hadn’t even seen her in the yard. Between the rain and their work schedules, it was like he couldn’t get a glimpse of her pretty being tending to the weeds, reading her book, or anything. His joke asking her what she plays with at night that also vibrates went unanswered.

Maybe he should have stopped sending her inappropriate jokes, but the fact she hadn’t blocked him gave him the shred of hope he desperately wanted. Maybe if she had blocked him it would get through his head that she was out of his league, and she wasn’t interested.

I’m heading home to shower, change, and then I’ll come grab you. It was Niall though, and not her reply to his joke.

Harry put cologne on and settled in the living room quietly scrolling through his social media looking at the time stamp from his message, almost a whole day ago. Frowning, he returned to scrolling and waiting for Niall. Not thinking much of anything of merit as he did.

But then that little notification slid from the top of his phone making his heart bounce with excitement.

Harry, are you home?

Is it finally happening?! 😍

There was no response and Harry thought he ruined their moment. Even if he believed her when she said they would never sleep together, he was glad she was talking to him. He was worried his latest prank had gone too far.

Harry’s car was in the garage, and he had almost every light off since he was leaving soon, so it was a fair question since she couldn’t see the back of his house where he was hiding in his room.

I was kidding, Buttercup. I’m home. You could have just come over to ask though.

There was still no response, but he kept his phone in hand waiting and holding his breath. Hoping something would come through from her again.

Pick some flowers from my yard.

Come knock on the door like we’re supposed to be going on a date.

Please.

And hurry.

Please.

What?

...?

Kitten...what’s wrong?

He tried calling her immediately, but it went right to voicemail, like she had turned her phone off after sending her last message.

What the hell. Why aren’t you answering your phone?

This isn’t funny, Buttercup...

You’re making me nervous.

If this was a retaliation prank it went way too far. Way further than putting the mini popping firecrackers under her tires before she left for work. The very one that got her so mad, he thought she was going to call the cops finally. The one that made her ignore him for days on end despite the messages he sent.

But this wasn’t funny. Not even a little. Her safety and security weren’t things Harry liked to joke about because despite everything, he was possessive about her. And frankly, he adored her. Even if she wasn’t his to obsess over nor adore.

But he wasn’t going to ignore her any longer than he had to. He nearly sprinted out the door, swiping randomly at her pretty flowers and feeling horrible that he was pulling her precious plants after all the hard work she put into them. It seemed silly to spend time doing this, but he didn’t want to fuck up what she asked him to do. Not when her messages seemed so worrisome. Not when she didn’t answer. With a fresh bouquet in hand, he hurried to the front door. Fortunately, he was dressed for a night out. Niall would be on his way to pick him up; so, he was, in theory, date ready. But the thought of being with Niall and not home when she needed him terrified him further. Thank God he was home.

Harry had no idea what was on the other side of her door, but it was embarrassingly late in the moment that he realized there was a car in the driveway he hadn’t seen before. At once he realized she never had company. Which only made him even more anxious.

Swallowing, he knocked firmly.

The door flew open within ten seconds of his knock. The relief in her eyes made Harry feel sick. What was she so nervous about? What could make her that nervous, that seeing him made her at ease? She was constantly irritated by his presence. The moment only made him feel worse. “Harry, right on time,” she smiled sweetly. She was a good actress. If she hadn’t texted Harry so urgently, he wouldn’t be looking for signs of trouble, wouldn’t see the relief in her eyes, and he would have no idea that something was wrong.

“Hi kitten, don’t y’look beautiful,” he cooed leaning down to press a kiss to her cheekbone as if he had done it a thousand times before. Gratefully, he had imagined it about a thousand times, so it probably looked as natural as it felt. Plus, she was beautiful. Always. The acting came naturally to him as well. His arm wrapped around her waist in the same movement instinctively. His eyes fell to the man standing a few feet back watching her like a hawk. His gaze was territorial and possessive; Harry didn’t care for that at all. Even if she wasn’t Harry’s, she definitely wasn’t his either.

But Harry was possessive, and he was there because she asked him to be there. Something he got the feeling the other man did not have permission for. He knew he shouldn’t have felt possessive of her, but he would pretend all the same if it meant the worry in her eyes would go away.

He handed her the bouquet he plucked only moments before and threaded their fingers together; another movement that felt like he had done before and not for the very first time that second. “Let’s get a vase,” he suggested and kept his eyes on him. It wasn’t lost on him how easily her fingers fit between his, the way their palms touched, or how her grip tightened ever so slightly when she settled her grip in his. “Hey,” he nodded his head in greeting.

The guy ignored Harry. His eyes glaring at the pretty girl beside him. “You’re seriously telling me you’ve been dating this guy since the moment you moved in?”

Her cheeks burned red, and Harry kissed the top of her head tucking her toward his chest protectively. Harry didn’t care for it at all. If the anxiety in her texts, expressions, and body language wasn’t enough evidence, then the way she leaned further into his chest despite everything and how annoyed she was by him, certainly was. “M’Harry,” his voice was firm. Pointed. “And you are?”

He grunted, shook his head. “The fuck, babe?” He snapped. She didn’t respond, simply glanced up to meet Harry’s gaze. She blinked unsurely at Harry, unable to find her next move. Harry nudged her gently toward the kitchen.

“Do y’have a name or what?” Harry grumbled over his shoulder as he made a show of caressing her while she found a vase. Her hands were shaking slightly as she placed the vase in the sink. Fortunately, Harry saw it immediately and tugged the glass from her grip, pulling her hand back in his. Even if it was impractical and stupid looking while he placed the vase with one hand in her sink to finish what she was doing.

“Levi,” he snapped. “We apparently used to date.”

Harry felt her body deflate. He wondered why. Was it the prospect of dating this asshole? Was it the phrase used to? What happened before he got here?

“Well, Levi, glad we’re on the same page and you’re using the past tense. M’here t’take my girlfriend on a date,” he pressed his body around hers, bracketing her body against the sink. She kept her eyes down, away from Levi’s gaze. Her body felt so warm against his it made him wish this wasn’t for show. Instead, he bent down to kiss the crook of her neck and shoulder hoping she wouldn’t hate him later over it.

He was really into pretending. She squeezed his hands that were wrapped around hers against the edge of counter. Was that a thanks? Was that a sigh he imagined when he kissed her skin? God, she smelled good.

“M’not sure exactly what’s going on here, but m’getting a good sense that she doesn’t want y’here. So maybe s’a good time t’go before I have t’escort y’out of the house.”

He snorted and shook his head. He glared at Harry as he spoke, but her eyes were still cast down toward the sink. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, babe. You can try and fool me all you want. But I’m not stupid. I’ll come back when your boyfriend isn’t around,” he left the kitchen and slammed her front door shut as he exited. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Begrudgingly, he left her by the sink and went to the front door, peering out the small window right next to the frame. He watched while Levi pulled out of her driveway and down the road. Harry stood and watched, waiting for the sound of his car to completely disappear before he felt he wasn’t coming back any time soon. Harry locked her deadbolt.

“Who was that—” He started as he turned back for the kitchen, but his heart practically broke at the sight of his stubborn, fearless, and utterly pretty neighbor teary eyed and shaken to the core. She left the kitchen near silently it seemed but stopped in the hall right before the entryway of the front door. He didn’t even hear her approach. “Hey,” he cooed coming closer. “Buttercup,” he frowned when she didn’t respond to her nickname. “Hey,” it was like he was approaching a wounded, wild animal. He didn’t want to scare her, but God did he want to protect her. God, did he want to hold her again. “Love, he’s gone. I—” He wanted to reach out for her and pull her into his embrace again, but something about her looked off. The anxiety written all over her face made him nervous and sad.

He zoned in on her hands; they were shaking by her sides worse than the way she held the vase. Her eyes were so fucking sad looking Harry wanted to scream. “Kitten,” he tried again. “Can I...?” He reached for her again. “M’not going to...” all his sentences were half finished as he tried to figure out why the fuck Levi scared her so badly. All he wanted was to comfort her. She was too sweet and pretty to look so terrified. When she never looked scared of anything. “Buttercup,” he murmured again.

She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. “I’m fine,” but her voice was barely audible over the sound of it getting caught around the emotion in her throat.

“Hey, s’okay t’not be okay. M’here,” he promised holding his hands out to her. “Can I touch you?” He asked. She shook her head quickly. It hurt like hell for her to say no. Harry thought he was seriously going to cry. “Okay, okay,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets because he didn’t trust himself not to try and comfort her and the last thing that he ever wanted to do was break her trust and consent. “Baby, you’re breaking my heart,” he pouted and watched as she was starting to shake like she was in the middle of a blizzard without a coat. “Come sit,” he begged. “Please.”

She obeyed and Harry went to her kitchen and found a glass in the cabinet as if this was his own house. He got water from the dispenser on her fridge, and he brought it to her. Her hands were still shaking violently, and her tears were flowing but not a sound other than a quiet sniffle left her. “Here, Buttercup,” he mumbled.

She sniveled and wiped her eyes as she took the cup from him. He avoided brushing her fingers with his and he paced in front of the coffee table. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he caught sight of the time. “Fuck,” he muttered. Pressing the phone to his ear he glanced out the window. “Sorry Niall. Can’t come out,” he ran a hand on the back of his head. She perked up at his words.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“No... I don’t know.... I just need t’be here for her,” he mumbled.

“Harry, you don’t—”

He silenced her with a look while her words died in her throat with another little whimper. Being vulnerable was hard for her. Obviously. Harry wondered if she knew how difficult it was for him to watch her look so upset and scared and not comfort her. If he knew letting go of her in the kitchen meant he wouldn’t get to touch her again, he wouldn’t have let go to start.

He hung up without hearing Niall’s response and he put his phone in his back pocket.

“If you have plans—”

“I don’t,” he interrupted shaking his head quickly. “Jus’ a date with a pretty girl,” he sat across from her on the coffee table making sure that not even his knee bumped against her. His eyes were following her every breath. Every tiny movement and flinch. The nervousness he felt was painful. Waiting for something to make sense. The water in her glass rippled and practically splashed over the side from how hard she was shaking. Harry wanted nothing more than to take it from her grip. But instead, he patiently waited until she sipped it.

“I’m okay,” her voice was nothing more than air. Even if it wasn’t, Harry wouldn’t believe her.

“Baby,” he frowned. “No one sends a message like that if they’re not worried about their safety. I’m worried ‘bout your safety. So don’t pretend t’be okay if you’re not. I’ll stay all night, sitting right here, and stare at you.”

She snorted. “That sounds like watching paint dry.”

He shrugged. “You’re far more interesting and prettier than paint drying.”

She swiped at her eyes again looking at her lap. “He cheated on me.”

“What a fucking moron,” he mumbled and tilted his head at the ceiling. Harry would never understand how the luckiest men in the world treated lovely, beautiful girls like her as if they were nothing. “He wants y’back?”

She shrugged, shook her head, and nodded. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want him back?”

She whimpered and shook her head. Squeezing her eyes shut so tight, he worried she was going to split open her lids. “God, no,” she whispered.

Harry sighed, rubbed his palms on his thighs. “Can y’talk t’me, kitten? M’not leaving unless y’tell me to. Do y’want me t’leave?” It would kill him. Sincerely, truly kill him. But if she didn’t want him there, he would go.

“I can’t,” she was sobbing. It was killing him. It hurt so much not to hold her and comfort her.

“Okay, okay. I’ll... I’ll jus’... go back t’my house... Yeah? If y’need something, jus’...” he rubbed a hand over his face feeling like he was walking on a bed of glass saying the words. “Call, text, throw rocks at m’window,” he stood, mindful to not bump her knee. He smiled weakly at his own joke. It wasn’t returned. He didn’t know what to do or say. He didn’t know how to help the sweet, lovely girl. The smile fell from his lips when she didn’t respond. “Jus’... lock the door behind me, Buttercup, yeah?”

It felt like he was walking toward his death, but he left her living room and waited until he heard her deadbolt lock before he descended her porch steps.

*

She dropped the glass of water Harry gave her in the kitchen after she let Harry leave. It shattered into a million microscopic pieces and the flowers from her garden looked so unbelievably pretty she wished Harry really was taking her on a date.

She covered her mouth around another broken sob. Her eyes felt red and raw, and the pressure of her sinuses and the front of her forehead ached beyond words. She was safe. She was okay. But her chest hurt.

Levi was gone. Harry came to her rescue. After she was mean and grumpy toward him. Trying to protect her heart after it hurt six ways to Sunday because of the man that let himself into her home without permission. Harry didn’t even try to touch her without permission. She could tell he wanted to. Hell, she wanted him to... but everything hurt, and she was just so scared.

Maybe it was too late. But she needed him. Really needed Harry to hold her and comfort her. Her mind ran rampant with thoughts of how lovely it was to be held by him. The kiss on her skin. He was warm and solid. Safe. That’s what she wanted. To feel safe. Her heart ached with want.

Immediately after the thought of his warm solid body around hers, she raced out of the kitchen and unlocked her door. She was ready to fly down the steps of her porch, cross her yard and his hoping he would have the door open before she even arrived.

But Harry was already there; at the bottom of the third and final step of her porch.

He never even left.

Harry stood and turned as soon as he heard the deadbolt open, standing only seconds before she was ready to blow right past him. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered to himself.

Without any more pause, she was in his embrace. Her arms around his neck and she sobbed openly into his shoulder. His hands felt so big and safe on her body, just as she predicted.

He hummed something into her hair. Something like “M’here,” in his gravelly, pretty voice. “I have you,” he soothed. “Oh kitten, m’so sorry,” his voice sounded like he wanted to cry as much as she was. Poor Harry. He didn’t deserve to feel so sad. Not because of her and her messed up life. “C’mon, Buttercup,” he scooped behind her knees and cradled her as he carried her back inside to her sofa, locking the door behind them as he entered.

“Don’t leave me, please,” she begged, sniffling into his shirt.

“Never, baby. Never, ever, ever,” he promised rubbing her back. “Not unless y’ask.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “But I will ask,” she sniffed. “Because I’m too much. I’m sad, scared, broken, and damaged.”

“Y’not any of those things, kitten. Certainly not damaged, Buttercup.”

“But I am,” she whimpered. “You have no idea. He messed me up so bad... and I... I don’t,” she choked. “I pushed you away already.”

It wasn’t much, but the little bit she opened up her heart to him meant the world to him. It was almost as good as holding her. But nothing could replace that feeling now that he had it. He stroked her face with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t far,” he shrugged.

He didn’t even leave her porch. Was he going to stay out there all night? Her heart felt achy, and her eyes were already raw with tears but if they weren’t she would have cried at the thought of her obnoxious neighbor sleeping on the bottom step of her porch in the cold all because she was broken.

“You just wanted to help, and touch and hold me, and I wouldn’t let you—”

“Kitten,” he said sternly. He cupped below her jaw and stared right into her pupils like he was speaking directly to her soul. “Let’s get one thing very clear. I will never touch you without permission. No one has any right t’touch you unless y’ask.”

A sob escaped her throat and then she buried her face against his chest. His body was so broad and warm. She imagined if they were without heat or power, she would still be warm. “But I want you to touch me. All the time. Every second I’m around you,” there was no use denying it. Not when she couldn’t lift her face from his shirt.

Harry sighed with relief. “Well good,” he squeezed her affectionately. “Baby,” he stroked his thumb below her eye. “What happened?”

She shivered and Harry pulled the blanket that was on the back of her sofa over them. Her personality was huge and beautiful. She invaded Harry’s every thought. In the same room, she was in every air particle. Outside in her garden she was every little piece of dirt, petal, stem, root and all. She was larger than life.

It killed him she felt so small in his arms.

“I knew he was cheating, and he didn’t want me to leave,” she sniffed. Harry nodded, his teeth ground together. His jaw tensed. Waiting for her to continue. “He said I was overreacting. Our relationship was stale, and we just needed something to spice things up.”

She turned her face to his shirt and Harry cupped the back of her head, his fingers sliding and massaging his fingertips against the back of her skull. “He’s an idiot, Buttercup. A stupid, idiotic, horrible excuse for a man,” he grumbled.

She swallowed and didn’t say anything for a few moments. Harry holding her felt like medicine was sinking into her skin and directly into her bloodstream. Harry didn’t force her to speak. He didn’t ask questions. He just held her. She was sure he wanted to know more. Wanted to know all the gritty details that resulted in her moving in the middle of the night and finding this house next to his.

But there was only one thing she could think about.

“Why do you call me Buttercup?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t answer for several seconds. His free hand was on the small of her back, pressing gently to get her frame even closer to his. “Can I kiss right here?” He asked ignoring her question. He brushed his thumb along her temple. She nodded and Harry followed the brush of his thumb with his lips.

“That’s nice,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “Jus’ wait ‘til y’get a real kiss,” he promised. “Gonna make y’fall in love with me.”

She didn’t want to tell him she already had because that seemed ridiculous. So ridiculous it made her a little breathless. “That good hmm?” She hummed.

“Never had a complaint.”

“That’s obvious,” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t sleep with all of them.”

“Not my business.”

“But it is... M’a gentleman first, kitten. Mum taught me well. I just like t’make m’date feel good,” he explained. “Doesn’t always include... y’know,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I know I drove y’crazy walking them out in m’boxers.”

“No, you didn’t,” she lied.

He chuckled. “S’okay t’admit it, kitten; don’t know what I would have done if y’had someone over and flaunted a date in jus’ your underwear.”

“You were trying to make me jealous?”

“I didn’t think y’were that stubborn.”

She wasn’t sure if Harry was avoiding her question or trying to distract her, but she still wanted an answer. “Why?” She asked quietly again.

“Why what?”

“Why do you call me buttercup?”

He sighed, kissed her temple again turning her insides warm and mushy. He didn’t speak for a few seconds like he didn’t really want to tell her. “Y’were eating a peanut buttercup,” he mumbled. “When y’moved in. Y’have wrappers all over the floor of y’car. On Halloween, y’didn’t pass out any of them, but I saw them in the grocery bags I carried in for you one time.”

She bit her lip wondering how she didn’t put it together. It was incredible he noticed that. “They’re my favorite,” her voice no more than air once more.

“And you’re mine,” he assured her, cupping the side of her face. “M’not going t’let him hurt you. I’ll break every bone in his body and mine if I have to.”

She blushed. “You don’t have to—”

“Buttercup, m’not joking,” he said cutting off her protest. “Y’don’t have t’be scared because m’never going t’let him get close t’you ever again,” he promised.

“He just said he was going to... wait until you leave, Harry. You can’t promise that.”

“Guess I won’t leave. Or you’ll have t’come home with me.”

“Harry,” she croaked.

“Kitten, m’not messing around with y’safety,” he reminded her. “I can stay here on the couch and y’can stay in your bed. It doesn’t have t’be a thing. M’staying t’keep y’safe. Don’t read into it if y’don’t want to.”

But she wanted to read into it. God, did she want to. Harry dropped everything the moment she texted him from the bathroom in a panic. He was only next door. Didn’t she want to believe all his pranks were his way of flirting? Didn’t she want to believe he liked her more than just annoying her?

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. He didn’t deserve a mess. He deserved one of the effortlessly beautiful girls that he brought home. The kind that knew how to curl their own hair and where to draw the contour lines when they did their makeup. “You don’t have to stay,” she shook her head.

“Kitten,” he tutted.

“No seriously—”

“You’re deflecting, baby.”

“I’m just—”

“Buttercup,” Harry’s hands felt so warm and perfect against her skin. He brought his other hand to her bare cheek. It looked like he was trying not to cry himself when she met his gaze. “You just told me y’would try t’push me away. I don’t want t’go. But I will. I’ll sleep on your porch if y’want me too,” he offered. “Please,” he whispered quietly. Gently, like he was worried he was going to scare her. “Don’t ask me t’leave you.”

There was a long pause. “Stay,” she murmured into his hand. Because she was too exhausted and scared to tell him to leave. Pressing her lips against his palm, she met his gaze and watched the hope bloom in his eyes with just one little word. “Please... please stay.”

Harry sighed with relief, pulling her tightly toward him and nodding. “Course, Buttercup. Of course.”

*

It had become routine. She arrived home from work, and there was Harry. Sitting on the bottom step of her porch. He waited for her while she gathered her belongings from her car. His smile was so stunning. Like a streetlight on a dark road. Bright, beautiful, and all for her. “Hey Buttercup,” he hummed as she approached. He stood and pulled the bag off her shoulder and carried it for her. It wasn’t even heavy. In the same movement, he pecked her cheek and pressed a hand to her lower back like he had done for the last six weeks since he started seeing her exclusively. Not a single girl with perfectly curled hair had been his driveway. No one with expertly contoured makeup. Harry stopped walking around his yard in his boxers (but now she wished he did it more). As he guided her toward the front door, he continued grinning like an idiot. “Did your day get better after lunch, kitten?”

She nodded, his encouraging text sent at lunchtime was meant to ease the frustration he could sense through her messages. It wasn’t lost on him that as much as he used to enjoy her frustration, he wanted nothing more than to ease it now. “M-hmm,” she smiled at him. “You?”

“Better now that you’re home.”

She rolled her eyes at him because while he stopped pranking her so much, he replaced it with the cheesiest thoughts and lines known to man. But there was no denying how it made her heart flutter. “Did you want to go out to eat?” She asked.

He shrugged, then nodded. “We can if y’want.”

“I don’t really feel like cooking.”

“Me either.”

“Let me change and we’ll go.” Harry was looking at her strangely. The kind of face he made when he pulled pranks on her before he officially swept her off her feet. Maybe she was wrong, and the pranks were coming back.

Maybe there were those mini firecrackers under her toilet seat. “What?”

“Nothing, jus’... think y’look pretty,” his smile was too devilish (and handsome). He knew what he was doing. she shook her head and snorted. But Harry saw the way her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. He watched her head to her bedroom. When she stopped in the doorway, his smile bloomed. Her pause to look at her room as if it wasn’t hers made his heart skip a beat. “S’matter, Buttercup?”

“There are like a hundred peanut butter cups on my bed,” she told him. Like he didn’t already know. Orange wrappers lined up in the shape of a heart along her bed spread.

“107, actually,” She turned to look at him. He shrugged. “It would have 110, but I needed a snack.”

She wanted to smile. But her heart was beating fast, her emotions overwhelming her. She bit the inside of her lip. “Why?”

“Y’said y’were having a bad day.”

Her lip felt raw from biting it, behind her eyes prickled with tears. “Oh.”

“S’nice? Yeah?” He wondered and made his way to her, putting his hand on her lower back. He kissed her temple. “Kitten?” She nodded and turned her head toward him, hiding her face against his shoulder and trying to quell the emotion that was threatening to come out of her. “Hey, s’wrong, Buttercup?” He frowned. “Do y’want t’order take away instead?” He rubbed her arm soothingly.

She shook her head, then nodded, followed by a shrug. “I don’t know,” she sniffed.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” he hummed. “S’okay,” he reassured her. He didn’t even know why she needed reassurance. “S’jus’ some candy.” She sniffled again and Harry kissed the top of her hair. “M’gonna make sure y’feel good all the time, Buttercup,” he promised.

Her chest felt so overwhelmingly warm and achy in the best way. She nodded against him wishing she could tuck herself further into his strong body where she felt like nothing bad could happen. The change in relationship was a lot to absorb. But it was easy in a lot of ways. Harry was sweeter than she ever imagined he could be. Or maybe she was biased now that she got kisses, and he held her like she was the most precious thing he had ever touched. It killed her in hindsight how standoffish she had been to him. The thought of ignoring him made her feel sick to her stomach.

“I think you really will,” she mumbled into his shirt. He chuckled, kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Y’never have to thank me, kitten,” he shrugged. “Sorry I was so annoying.”

“I suppose it worked,” she sniffed.

He chuckled. “I knew it would.”

“You did not.”

“I did so,” he said petulantly. “Or I hoped it would.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t know why you would want someone so mean.”

“Jus’ makes me want y’more,” he joked and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “M’gonna kiss y’now, kitten,” his way of warning her and asking for permission. It hurt that he felt he had to ask. But Harry was nothing if not thorough and sure in asking for her consent.

“Don’t ever stop,” she sighed dreamily.

He chuckled again and leaned in to follow his promise. “M’pleasure, Buttercup.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[grapejuicenharry]

Angel

Harry and Y/N are best friends— except they have feelings for each other (4k words)

warnings : smut 18+, fluff, kissing, grinding, jealous h

read part 2 of angel here

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry really liked—no, loved—Y/N, but he would never admit it to her. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine a day without her. She was like sunshine in his life, someone he could always rely on.

“Harry, my feet hurt,” Y/N whined beside him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy from one too many drinks. They were walking back from a party thrown by one of Harry’s friends, Alex. It was his birthday, and even though Harry and Y/N hadn’t planned to attend, today had been their last exam of the semester. That called for celebratory drinks after all the hard work they’d put in. Sleepless, stressful nights spent preparing for exams, completing assignments, and submitting papers—it had all been overwhelming, and tonight felt like the ideal way to finally blow off some steam.

“Didn’t I warn you about those heels?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow. He knew those heels always gave her trouble and told her to wear something more comfortable, but Y/N, being Y/N, never listened.

“Yeah, but they make me look sexy, and I wanted to be tall enough to at least reach your neck,” she replied absentmindedly.

“Well, guess that means I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” Harry said, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

“Harry, my dress is too short! I’m going to flash everyone,” Y/N laughed, though there was no real concern in her voice.

Harry chuckled, placing his hand carefully to keep her covered. Besides, the streets were almost empty at 2 a.m., and there was hardly anyone around to notice.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N met Harry on the first day of college. She was nervous and eager to make friends. Hurrying to her seat, she noticed Harry sitting next to her. The first thing she saw was his mop of curly hair, and she thought he was incredibly cute. He looked so innocent and nerdy in his black-rimmed glasses. He was just too adorable.

He wore a white T-shirt that highlighted his bulging biceps, with tattoos peeking through. Suddenly, Y/N found herself wanting to see every tattoo that adorned his beautiful body. She was so curious and lost in her thoughts about him that she didn’t realize Harry was, in fact, looking at her.

Harry thought he was dreaming as he looked at Y/N. She seemed like an angel, a beautiful one at that. She wore a cute white hoodie adorned with pink bows, and her curly hair framed her lovely face perfectly. What captivated him the most were her eyes; they were alluring, radiant, and a luminous shade of dark brown. Next were her luscious pink lips, so full and plump that he suddenly wanted to kiss them and taste them. He wondered if they tasted like berries or cherries, secretly hoping they tasted like cherries, his favorite fruit.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Y/N asked in a hushed voice. “I forgot to bring my pouch,” she added with a little pout.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, fixing his glasses, clearing his throat, and answering in a hoarse voice. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Later that day, they sat together at lunch, talking as if hours had passed. Y/N was so grateful to have found someone as kind as Harry, who listened to every word she said with such intent. They chatted about random topics, like their favorite TV shows and ice cream flavors. When Harry revealed that his favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, Y/N made a weird face.

“Shut up—no, don’t you dare say it!” Harry exclaimed, amused.

“But it tastes like toothpaste!” Y/N whined playfully.

“No, it does not!” Harry shot back. Y/N made a mental note to convince Harry to try every other flavor until he grew to hate mint chocolate chip.

They soon became inseparable—best friends. Harry didn’t realize just how much he had started to like Y/N until it was almost too late. He thought frequently about confessing his true feelings, but there never seemed to be the right moment. He cherished the friendship they had, and the thought of losing her terrified him to his core. So he kept those feelings hidden, bottled up, and accepted her as his best friend.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry set Y/N down on the couch when they reached her apartment. He kneeled down to take off her heels. “Ouch, slowly please,” YN whined.

“I am never letting you wear these stupid shoes again. Your feet are all red and swollen,” Harry countered, looking genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Y/N in pain. He wanted to protect her from everything and keep her safe in his cocoon—just him and Y/N.

He then carefully carried a sleepy Y/N to her bedroom and started looking for a comfortable shirt for her to wear. After finding a suitable shirt, he went to the bathroom to grab her makeup wipes and returned to find half-asleep Y/N lying on the bed. “Sweetheart, this will only take two minutes, I promise.” He began wiping her face gently.

After getting Y/N all ready for bed, Harry changed his own clothes. Y/N had “borrowed” too many of his shirts, but honestly, he never minded it. In fact, he secretly liked when Y/N wore his clothes. She looked breathtaking in his oversized shirt paired with her tiny shorts, which made Harry lose his mind.

“Come to bed and cuddle me; I need to sleep,” Y/N grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Coming, sweetheart, just two minutes,” Harry replied with a smile. He knew how grumpy Y/N got when she was sleepy. He quickly climbed into bed, set his glasses on the side table, and pulled her to his side. Cuddled next to him, Harry didn’t mind being the big spoon. He loved having Y/N molded to his side—the sweet scent of her hair, which smelled like strawberries on a sunny day, and the soft skin that felt like vanilla sundae. He adored every inch of her. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything around him was rainbows and sunshine; she made everything look like it was through rose-tinted glasses.

But Harry also loved being the little spoon. There were days when he just wanted to be held, and honestly, Y/N loved having him like that—clingy, needy, like a cute little puppy.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

One day, Harry arrived at Y/N’s apartment looking extremely worn out. Y/N was lying on the bed, comfortably engrossed in her favorite novel. She grew concerned upon seeing Harry. 

“I am so exhausted, and my head hurts,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. “I had to sit in Professor Martin’s class for two hours, plus I had a psychology presentation today,” he stated tiredly while rubbing his drowsy eyes behind his frames. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you had such a long day, baby. Come on, lie down, and I’ll massage your head,” Y/N replied, removing the blanket from her lap. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and dropped his head in Y/N’s lap. She carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the side table before starting to massage his head.

She threaded her fingers in his curls, scratching his head lightly, rubbing, and applying just the right amount of pressure. Harry let out a soft moan as he could already feel the tension melting away, his body instinctively relaxing further into her lap.

 “Feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against her legs. 

As her skilled fingers glided over his scalp, working their magic and easing the stress that had built up after a long week. 

Y/N smiled, enjoying the way he melted under her touch. She varied her movements, alternating between gentle rubs and firmer pressure, focusing on the areas where he seemed to carry the most stress. Her fingers danced through his hair, and she leaned forward slightly to whisper, “You deserve this. Just relax.”

After what seemed like hours of massaging, Y/N realized Harry had fallen soundly asleep on her lap. His face looked peaceful, with his eyes closed and soft snores slipping through his pretty pouty lips. He looked so adorable, and Y/N couldn’t help but wish she could freeze time to savor this moment longer.

Knowing Harry would probably complain about his back in the morning, she gently shifted him, lifting his head from her lap and placing it on a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, so she soothingly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away any lingering tension. Half asleep, Harry instinctively moved closer, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and nuzzling his face against her boobs. His personal pillow: He always has the best sleep whenever she holds him. Y/N smiled down at him. His curls tickled her jaw, and she couldn't resist leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” Y/N whispered, smiling at Harry, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry was never the jealous type—at least, not until Y/N came into his life. but right now he cant help but a bitter sensation rises up his throat when he sees yn with Jacob. A total douchebag who flirts with every girl in the college, Standing next to Y/N, too closely according to harry. Harry had come to find Y/N so they could grab tacos at their favorite spot, but instead, he’s witnessing this. Does Y/N like him? Does she have a crush on him that he doesn’t know about? What if Y/N is interested in him and wants to end her friendship with Harry? Will she forget about him? All these questions overwhelm Harry’s mind at the sight. No, no—Y/N was only his. His best friend, his angel, his sweetheart. She would never do something like this. His chest suddenly started burning at such thoughts. 

Jacob says something which makes Y/N burst into laughter. His chest tightens at the sight. He wants to be the only person to make yn laugh like that. He curses inwardly that jacob gets to experience the sweet melody of her laughter, her laugh that can instantly brighten up the room with warmth and sunshine. He thinks to himself, Does Jacob know her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs? or how the mole under her right eye disappears when she laughs because of the fullness of her cheeks? 

“Oi, whatchu looking at?” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face. He hadn’t realized she had come over and was talking to him. “You look like you could kill someone,” she teased, giggling as she spoke to him. 

“Was that Jacob talking to you?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual even though he was fuming inside. “Yeah, he wanted my chemistry notes because apparently he spilled coffee on his,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arm around Harry's as they walked together. 

“Did you give them to him?” Harry asked, mentally cursing Jacob and hoping she hadn’t. 

“No, obviously I know he just wanted an excuse to hit on me. I’m not dumb,” Y/N exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you know I don’t like sharing my notes with anyone except for you, because you know how to take care of them.” She chided and planted a kiss on Harry’s cheek. His face instantly heated. 

“Good,” Harry whispered quietly, fixing his glasses, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to hide the blush of his cheek and unable to suppress a smile at the thought of Y/N rejecting that jerk. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry loves when Y/N gets touchy like this with him. When randomly she hugs him, kisses him on his cheek, forehead, or settles on his lap while watching a movie. Her spontaneous kisses leave a soft tingle on his skin, and he can’t help but smile every time she curls up in his lap. It’s in these moments he feels closest to her, as if every touch and every kiss is a silent confession of how much she means to him. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her in a little tighter, enjoying the way she fits perfectly against him. The movie on the screen fades into the background; all he can focus on is the warmth of her body and the way she makes him feel—like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. It all feels so natural. And they never have those awkward moments because they both love these touches. Whenever yn touches him, he feels electricity buzzing through him, in a good way. His skin feels like jello and his heart is thumping loudly, His brain is all muddled with goo and sparkles. 

He wants to treasure those moments forever and constantly wishes for more and more. 

It was one of those rare evenings for Harry and Y/N, Where the world seemed to quiet down just for them. They had just finished with their midterms and needed this for the longest time. Dim yellow lights, a bottle of red wine sitting on the table, a soft record player playing in the background. Legs tangled under the blanket as Harry and Y/N sat closer to each other, just enjoying each other’s presence. The warmth of Yn’s body pressed against him felt like home.

Harry’s fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of Y/N’s hair, twirling it between his fingertips. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail — the curve of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry whispered, his voice low and soft, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile and cheeks already flushed because of wine, changed into a deeper shade of red at his words. “You always say that.” Slurred her words lightly. 

“Because it’s true,” he murmured, leaning in closer, their faces just inches apart. His fingers gently tugging at her bottom lip, eyes flickering to her mouth. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of telling you that.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Y/N felt her heart race as Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with something deeper than just affection.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N tilted her head, her lips brushing against Harry’s in the softest kiss, testing the waters. It was brief- just a featherlight kiss- but enough to send a shockwave through him. Harry let out a quiet sigh, his hand moving to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, slow and tender. As he leaned in closer, Y/N gently pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, making it easier for them to get lost in each other. Suddenly, he realized what he had done.

Harry pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with surprise at his own action.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, his voice panicked. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing, but there was no trace of anger or discomfort on her face. Instead, she smiled softly, a warmth blooming in her chest at his sudden vulnerability. “No, Harry… It’s okay.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean—”

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted gently, her voice barely a whisper as she moved closer, her hand resting on his cheek. “It’s okay, I want this, I promise.”

Harry couldn’t quite grasp what was happening—it all felt too surreal, like something straight out of his dreams. Yet, here it was, playing out in real time. In the blink of an eye, Y/N tossed the blanket aside and straddled his lap. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt as she pressed closer to him, wanting to be as near as possible. Her fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his shirt, before cradling his face. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Harry was still trying to make sense of it all, but instinctively, his hands found their place—one tangling in her hair, the other resting gently on her neck.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions that had been simmering under the surface for so long. His lips were soft, and she could taste the faint hint of wine on them. Their lips molded perfectly, like it was meant to be. Time seemed to blur. It must have been five minutes, or five hours; neither of them knew. It was a heated blend of tongue, teeth, and lips. 

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it. Harry pulled back, catching his breath, resting his forehead against hers. His heart pounded, blood rushing south; he was so hard, making him ache beneath her. 

“Can I take off your top, baby?” He whispered, his breath warm against her jaw as he kissed and nipped at it.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmured, and that was all the permission Harry needed. He swiftly pulled off her shirt—his shirt—and eagerly ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin. 

“So soft, your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his hands working behind her, unclasping her bra. 

Her tits were a piece of art—Round, so full and perfectly perky. His large hands cup them, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers. 

Now she sat only straddling him in her thin, barely there sleeping shorts; she could feel his hard cock beneath her, thick and throbbing, nudging her entrance. Her dampness was seeping through both of their shorts. A delicious remainder, how much she wanted him. He could feel her cunt fluttering around nothing, desperate for him. 

 Harry had to shut his eyes and  take  a few steady breaths as his chest rose and fell with anticipation. Slowly, he leaned forward, prepping light kisses along the curve of her breast. Y/N moaned softly, arching her back, giving him more access to her boobs. He latched onto her nipple, sucking lightly, while his free hand teased her other breast, tugging and rolling the sensitive nub. Y/N hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, writhing on his cock couldn’t help but start grinding, writhing on his lap.  

"Feels good," she murmured, eyes closed as  she gently took his glasses from his head and placed them on the couch next to them, her fingers threaded through his messy curls. His cock twitched beneath her, nudging her clit, and she could feel her body growing even wetter, soaking through the fabric that separated them. Harry kept switching between her breasts, his mouth worshipping each one as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through her core.

Making her more drenched 

“Just like that, ride me Y/N” Harry growled, his voice low and demanding. His hands slid from her breast to her waist, guiding her movements. Making her move forward and backward, her clothed, dripping core dragged across his cock, making them both shiver with need. His tattoos peeked through as he finally tugged his shirt off, revealing his inked chest - abs flexing under the butterfly, the black ink stark against his flushed, heated skin.

Y/N's fingers trailed down, dragging her nails across his chest, loving the way his tattoos twisted beneath her touch. She leaned down, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Harry groaned, loving the possessiveness of it—her mark on him. He was hers. 

“You’re doing so good, Angel” he murmured, nipping her ear. Harry was a complete mess beneath her. His eyes glossy, pupils blown away with lust, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips slick and swollen from their kisses. He looks so sexy, Y/N leaned forward, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, swallowing each other’s  moans while increasing her pace. 

He could not believe Y/N was on top of him, grinding against his cock, her sweet little moans filling the air. He was sure he’d reached heaven. He glanced down between them, seeing the wet patch her arousal had left on his shorts, mixed with his own pre cum. 

As Y/N ground herself against him, her clit dragged over the thick length of his cock, and each upward motion had his tip grazing her entrance. The feeling made them both shiver. Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders as her eyes squeezed shut in bliss, her lip caught between her teeth, trying to hold back a whimper. 

Harry slid his hand down, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow, tight circles, giving her that extra bit of pleasure she craved. “I want you to feel good, baby,” he whispered, his fingers working faster, determined to push her over the edge. His angel deserved to feel good. 

Y/N threw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. “I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered meekly, her voice shaking. Harry quickened his pace, his fingers pressing into her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick and desperate.

Y/N cries out as her orgasm rips through her, the coil in her belly finally exploding, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She felt like she was floating—fireworks and butterflies all at once. 

She has never cum so hard in her life. Her fingers never did the job, and vibrators were too boring for her. 

Below her, she feels Harry twitching. He buries  his face in her neck, biting down a patch of her skin to stifle his own moan as he reached the brink. Both arms wrapped around her waist, his eyes shut, loud and desperate whimpers falling from his lips. 

“That’s it, honey,” Y/N cooed, her voice soft and soothing, threading her fingers through his damp curls as she continued to ride him. She could feel him shaking beneath her as his orgasm finally hit, releasing with a loud groan as his body went rigid. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as the bliss overwhelmed him completely. He felt like he was in paradise, his body melting into hers.

For a moment, they just stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hearts beating in sync, both of them coming down from their highs. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Harry let out a breathy laugh, looking for his glasses and placing them again on his face. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Y/N smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, loving how warm he felt under her touch. “And you’re a mess,” she teased softly, laughing with him. Harry grinned, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, but I’m your mess," he murmured, kissing her softly, the intimacy between them palpable.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle kisses. “I want this with you, Y/N” Harry whispered, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something for you. That I don’t feel this whenever I’m around you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as his words hit her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Harry pressed on, the confession spilling out of him like a flood. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin us. You’re my best friend, Y/N. The most important person in my life, and I was terrified of messing that up. But tonight... it just felt right. It always felt right with you.” 

The air hung heavy between them, the weight of his confession pulling her down, making her chest tighten. Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had always felt something too—always pushed it aside, too afraid of what it would mean for them and for their friendship. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t run from it anymore.

Harry’s eyes softened behind his glasses,  his heart racing a mile a minute. He had finally said it—the words he never thought he’d be able to voice, yet they spilled out of him because he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He had to tell Y/N everything. 

But he still didn’t know if she felt the same, if she liked—no, loved—him back. And though the thought of her rejecting him terrified him, he was ready for it. His heart would shatter into a million pieces, but he would respect her decision, even if it meant she wanted him out of her life completely. It would hurt—of course, it would—but the idea of staying by her side and making her uncomfortable hurt even more.

He braced himself for her response, never expecting what she would say next.

 “I love you, Harry. I think I’ve loved you for a long time... but I was too much of a coward to confess it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “All this time, I didn’t want to lose you, so I just... ignored it. But tonight? It meant everything. I want this with you too.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear. 

“I always thought you had a thing for Emma from our sociology class,” Y/N added with a teary giggle, realizing how silly it sounded now.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. Emma? He had never thought of her as more than a classmate. His friends had mentioned once or twice that Emma might have a crush on him, but he’d never taken it seriously. His focus had always been on Y/N.

Before he could explain, Y/N cut him off. “But now I get it—you don’t like her. It was probably just my insecurities talking,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Baby, Y/N, look at me,” Harry gently commanded. “I had no idea you were worrying about all of this. Emma? I’ve probably spoken to her five times at most, and I don’t like her that way at all. You have nothing to be insecure about.” He cupped her jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, my angel. The only girl I love and care about.”

Harry's thumb continued to stroke Y/N's cheek gently, his eyes soft and unwavering as he held her gaze. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’ve never even thought about anyone else the way I think about you. It’s always been you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the insecurity that had weighed her down for so long now starting to lift. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry wasn’t finished. His other hand slid down to cradle her waist, pulling her more closer if that was possible. They were basically molded together. 

“I love the way you say my name; I love how you play with my rings whenever you get nervous; I love the way you get excited over little things; I love the way you get grumpy whenever you are hungry; I love the way you look at me when you think I am not paying attention. And I love you; don’t ever want you to doubt that, okay?” 

Y/N felt warmth flood her chest as his words washed over her. She’d spent so long overthinking everything, never realizing that Harry had been feeling the same all along.

She blinked back the last of her tears, smiling up at him. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion.

Harry pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. “Because you care so much,” he murmured against her skin. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension in her body melting away.

Harry resting his chin on the top of her head. “But now, no more hiding, yeah? No more overthinking or doubting. It’s just us now. I’m yours, and I’ve always been.”

Y/N tilted her head back to look at him, her smile widening as her fingers laced through his. “Just us,” she repeated softly.

Harry’s heart swelled as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice a gentle promise.

[wherebrkenheartsgo]

Summary: You’ve known the international pop star since the One Direction days, but only the past year and a half have you been able to call him your boyfriend. This series is all about what life is like being a normal person who just so happens to be dating the one and only Harry Edward Styles. This texting series will show that every relationship has it’s highs and it’s lows so buckle up because dating Harry isn’t always easy, but damn does he love you. 🪩✨

Status: Ongoing

Tag List: Open

Story Type: Established Relationship

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy this texting series and it may be a Harry series but you’ll see a certain Irish man a few times as well because I can’t write Harry without mentioning Niall✨

*this is mainly a texting series but you’ll find everything below*

Instagrams: Coming Soon✨

Conversations: Coming Soon✨

Everything Else: Here

Part 1: That’s Odd

[nemesyaaa]

a long way from the playground // rafe cameron x reader

summary ; when you met rafe on the playground of the school, he was such a crybaby but you were there for him as his most beloved (and unique) friend until that accident which happened in high school.

seven years after that argument, you met him again. and mostly, seven years after, the crybaby that you know became the big boy that everyone knows.

genre ; childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers (literally my favorite trope of the world), slight of angst, fluff, and smut. he fell first (and alone at first lmfao...)but she fell harder trope. one-shot.

warnings ; argument, family issues, mentions of cheating, smut, miscommunication, mentions of anger issues, fear of abandonment/being alone, jealousy, first time/virginity, past/present, violence ?( reader slapping rafe), being pogue/kook is not a big deal, mentions of rafe's mother.

author's note : it's 4k. was inspired by eighteen by one direction and to build a home by the cinematic orchestra. trying myself on something soft and kinda angst (but more in a bittersweet way.)

rafe was not always being the big boy everyone knew. it had taken seven years between the two of you for him to become stronger and more mature. when you met him, he was a whiny little boy who loved to fight, but cried every time you treated his wounds. you always managed to make him smile when you placed a bandage on the bleeding bruise and promised him that if he calmed down, the injury would disappear.

you started being there for him from the moment you were just seven years old.you understood that rafe needed someone in his life, because no one was there for him. you never understood why, but people loved to say, even the teacher and his family that there was something weird about him.

you heard the others spreading rumors about it a couple times. it was so easy to criticize others rather than judge yourself. at that moment, rafe didn't scare anyone. it was not because he had the prestigious cameron name that it made his classmates fear him.

he was like everyone else, there was no kook or pogue. everyone was too young to be different, the prey could be anyone in the group, but the leader always remained the same.

the first time you and rafe cameron were really close was on mother's day. the whole class had been assigned to make a gift and in the most saddest way possible, everyone had a mother to give their present to. everyone except Rafe, but you didn't know about that before the accident.

having finished making your own gift, you surprised your friend from behind and he dropped his vase on the ground. you had never felt so sad in your entire life when you saw the broken glass on the floor. you could clearly feel your heart cracking in your ribcage, your veins freezing, and your breath dying in your throat, the hot rush of tears inside your eyes.

"rafe, i'm really sorry. I...really, I didn't mean to..."

“it’s okay, y/n. I didn’t have anyone to give it to anyway...”

his voice cracked slightly in his knotted throat as he managed to not show you how hurt he was. he was trying to be strong, and not a crybaby — that nickname that you given him every time. and his eyes had become so full and wet with tears, the blue ocean of his eyes drowning in the hot little boy whines.

rafe cameron was a broken child, not just since you broke his vase. no, always. since he no longer had his mother. and you realized it in such a cruel way that you wanted to disappear.

he had so many tears, and you felt like they could flow down his cheeks forever, that even an eternity wouldn't be enough to wipe them away. and even if you had been a siren, you would never have been able to swim in water as salty as his present sadness.

"my mother...left me..." he admitted softly between sniffles, his nose red and leaky.

you felt bad but you took him against you in a tender hug, and placed your hand on his back to start caressing him gently, until he was soothed. "but you have me. and i will not leave. you know rafe, when i love someone, it's serious. i sincerely would like to make sure that you never feel alone again."

you looked into his eyes. you couldn't be more sincere.

and maybe it was from that day that rafe cameron fell in love with you, and he had never felt so good because he never thought that love could be so heartwarming and kind.

if you thought he would be the type to hide his feelings, or run away from them, you were wrong. it was the first time he felt this comfort, this happiness and he needed to show it to you. even for his family he did not have such great affection.

he loved giving you gifts. he had seen and heard that the girls really liked those kind of things so every day since Mother's Day, you received flowers, boxes of chocolates, photos of yourself accompanied by notes, volumes of your favorite book saga, CD's of your favorite singers. rafe couldn't let go of you.

since you didn't love him back, he fed on the affection and attention you gave him.

rafe took everything you had to give him - a look, a smile, a kiss on the cheek, a hug, an earphone for the two of you to share, a day in your room watching movies, a ride on the bike of your big brother, an afternoon playing in the sea.

there was nothing strange about him, nothing like the rumors could say.

“rafe, you didn’t have to give me that.” you exclaimed when you saw a necklace with his initials.

“but I wanted to. Don’t you like it?”

"I love..."

Rafe would have loved to hear that you were talking about him saying those words but he was also so impatient. every boy his age had a girlfriend, and he wanted you to be his. he was not an exception to the eager youth.

what was the point of being rich, of being able to have everything if you weren't included among his treasures? he wanted you, his only friend and the only girl who mattered to him.

But also, he was lost because he was experiencing one-sided love, because above all, it hurt so much not to be loved in return, to be in love with someone to love them to a point where it mattered more than himself.

the first time you kissed rafe cameron on the lips was in high school. you were drunk, you hadn't done it on purpose.

you threw up right after, but he never blamed you. he knew it was the alcohol, not him. he even held your hair while you vomited everything into the bowl. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I..."

"I'm not mad. you're just drinking too much. I should have been more careful. you know i can't be angry with you."

yes, rafe had anger issues, serious problems managing his hard feelings. sometimes he even scared you. sometimes you even felt like he would be able to kill someone.

rafe’s hands could be deadly but whenever they were on you, pressed to your cheeks, against your hips, on your thighs, inside your hair, on your neck, they were always calm and gentle.

after that, you would never have guessed that the first time rafe cameron had touched himself, it was thinking about your lips on his mouth, something so small and pathetic but it was enough to make him so vulnerable and unable to think about anything else.

he imagined your pretty lips around his cock instead of his useless large hand, your wet open mouth pumping him as your tongue covered every inch of his growing girth. and he hated himself for having impure thoughts about you, because you looked like an angel. he had no desire to make you dirty but oh fuck — he had cum on his stomach, spurting the warm loads painting his flesh. and god he wished you were there to make him pure again.

after that, rafe had tried many times to get you out of his head. he thought of porn. but he imagined your body, your voice, your moans in place of all these actresses, and that was the only way he could come.

dating girls but it never worked. you were always the one he wanted out of all the ones that existed.

distance from you but he always came back, because without you it had always been like being in the dark. and how could he lives in darkness without the one who gave him light?

but above all, you were the one who understood him best, who always managed to soothe him, and above all who never judged him in his moments of weakness.

you were his home, where he took refuge when he had a problem with his father, when he could no longer stand Sarah's presence, when Rose was getting on his nerves, when Topper and Kelce were behaving like idiots. because you were the only person who couldn't make his existence even more shitty.

— now it's been over ten years since rafe cameron was in love with you, but only seven since you disappeared from his life.

you had another life now, a boyfriend who cheated on you and who was always angry with you, and pushing you under and under. you were stuck with the wrong guy.

you had always dreamed of being an artist, you had specialized in painting in college hoping to pursue your dream.

rafe had always accompanied you in that dream, volunteering as a model for all your portraits but you always ended up throwing all the drawings away because you were too perfectionist. for you, it was never good enough. but for your best friend, it was a masterpiece, the work of a true painter.

you drew in your spare time, but each time, you ended up drawing rafe's face. you had no idea why he was your only inspiration even though you had a boyfriend, why it was always him who motivated you to continue painting.

it was strange how rafe had made a huge impact in your life, the only boy you actually had.

— a year later, on a huge impulse, you offered your art to a museum that regularly held exhibitions. you had made arrangements with the director and tried to find rafe's contact two nights after.

you searched for his social media, last names in the directory, asked his friends but nothing had helped you. you had spent a week trying to find it but it felt like you had lost him forever, that it was like a flower that you should have cherished instead of letting it perish.

you had been a monster. you abandoned him...like his mother. like everyone else.

every time you thought about him, you always ended up crying. if it wasn't love because you were sure you didn't love him, why did it hurt so much? why did it kill you so much?

rafe had never been capable of hurting you, and yet you had stabbed him without even looking at him. you had let him give you his heart, and you had stepped on it. and maybe that was why he couldn't fall in love anymore because you had ruined all his chances of being with someone else.

rafe had confessed his feelings to you while you were in his room, talking about everything and nothing, the future and the past like children. he had grown up. he was no longer the little whiny child you had known but a big boy, the one who now had big arms to protect you, hands to dry your tears, body to warm you.

“i feel like you want to tell me something, big boy. so say it, don't make me wait or beg for it.” you teased him by stopping the movie you were watching under the blankets.

"If you weren't so blind and stupid, I wouldn't have to be so embarrassed. i really have to do all the work all the time. "

“Come on, confess it. Do you want me to close my eyes?”

“ close that eyes, and shut that mouth too. ” he nodded, and the minute you closed your eyes, his mouth found yours to kiss you.

“what does that mean?”

“are you being stupid on purpose?” he replied. "It wasn't a mistake for me in the club...I mean, I really liked it like now. Don't make me say it, y/n. "

you were embarrassed. you didn't like rafe. finally you loved him like a best friend. he had always been the friend you dreamed of, not the one you wanted to end up with.

In contrast, rafe always believed that a girl could never break his heart. but you had shown him today that he was wrong, because you had managed to hurt his feelings, to make them so depressing.

you had this control on him that he had exactly over everyone else.

"Am I still the crybaby I was to you? I've changed. "

"that has nothing to do with it. rafe, you can't love someone and think that they will love you back. love doesn't work like that, and sometimes it doesn't even work. "

“you love someone else, right?” his tone was now louder, becoming more aggressive.

"I...n-n..."

"you love someone? who is it? tell me who it is? or don't tell me, I'll find out eventually. do you think that guy deserves you more than me ? "

“rafe, you’re scaring me. don’t yell at me.”

"why? you have the right to reject me but I don't have the right to raise my voice with you... let me laugh...since you like joking with me now.” there was a sick smile on his face that you hated, and made you shake.

"Rafe, I'm not rejecting you..."

“oh, y/n, please don’t lie to me. you’ve never been a hypocrite, so don’t be one now. don't be mean sweetheart because i would die rather than hurting you. just admit that you have someone, that you like playing with my feelings. do you think you're superior to me ? well, don't forget that i'm the only guy that give you attention so you're not that special. i made you special.”

"you win, rafe cameron. congratulations. i'm leaving."

you stood up towards the door but he rushed toward you and blocked your way.

“rafe. move.”

"asking like that? oh no, sweetheart. I've seen you be nicer than that, so you're going to give me the pleasure of asking me with better words."

“don’t make me push you. ”

he laughed so hard that your ego had been hurt. "because you think i'm still the weak, whiny cameron from the past that you used to manipulate ? tskk tskk, wrong. it's over. i hold the power in the relationship now. "

“rafe, I don’t want us to argue.”

“ oh yea ? so why do you want to leave? give me just one good reason at least !”

“you have to let me go.”

"and if I refuse? ah yes, I forgot, my family probably loves you more than me so they will surely come and help you if you cry or scream. so, please, show me how much my family hates and doesn't care about me. ”

you felt the sadness in his voice despite the loud tone, and the condescension.

"you can't leave. what kind of girl are you? the kind who likes to break hearts?”

it was your turn to be mad at rafe so you slapped him. louder than you expected because his face had turned against the door, and a red bruise had marked his skin. you regretted your action but you didn't apologize. because rafe had to learn to respect you.

" excuse me ? I was always there for you, when you were in pain, when you were angry with the whole world, when your father was so cruel to you that I had nightmares because I was afraid that will be the reason i will lost you one day, when you were crying, when you were fighting, I was there when there was absolutely no one for you, I was there when you were the little boy that no one wanted. You have absolutely no right to blame me for anything and consider this slap at the end of my sentence because I will not apologize. I have always been nice to you. so don't make me regret this. so yes, well done rafe, you managed to ruin everything. I'm sorry that you are in love with me and unfortunately I don't have this feelings for you, but now you lost me, and all the chances you had for us to end up together so you can sequester me here if you want, but know that even if I stayed in this room until the end of my days, I would still have no feelings for you, not a fucking single one. “

he was angry, his nostrils were flaring, and his fists were clenched against his thighs. you only had to see the swelling of his veins around his temples and around his neck to feel that it was literally boiling inside his body.

"you haven't changed. you've just grown. you'll cry when my back is turned.”

— back in the present, you wore a pretty dress to your art exhibition. you chose "blue eyes" as a subject with multiple paintings representing Rafe's gaze in different expressions. you had even managed to capture his look when he was in love with you.

so, you hoped that this evening he would come, that he had accepted your invitation, that your letter had arrived safely at its destination. you had received so many compliments but none had made you happy, none had managed to really make you smile, even those from your boyfriend who you had found in the hallway kissing someone else.

you didn't even cry because you knew it. it was just more horrible to see him in real life because he looked so happy.

“get out of here.” you reacted without even shouting.

“baby wait, I can explain everything….”

"explain what to me? your explanations are stuffed in this girl's mouth right now."

"I'm not going to leave." he replied.

“ oh yes you will leave. and if I see a single tear on her face, surely not alive. but yea, dare you to stay.” a cold voice growled and warned behind your back that you recognized it by heart.

you turned to admire rafe who stood in front of you, still just as handsome, and above all taller. you wanted to be a pure and shed tears just to see your ex-boyfriend suffer but you were too busy rejoicing in rafe's presence.

“Who are you?” your ex-boyfriend replied.

"oh if I told you, I think it would break your heart but you don't seem to have one so I'll be honest. I'm definitely the only boy she likes. i'm sorry if she made you think that she has something for you. but believe me, will be nothing contrary to what i will do to you if your ass is still here in those free seconds i let you run.. "

“raf…”

he shushed you with his mouth. "You'll have your moment, but wait. this is a conversation for boys, and unless you're hiding a dick between your legs, you're not in."

you smiled at his stupidity. the two boys had gone out, and Rafe had returned a few minutes later.

“Oh my god, you didn’t cry,” you teased him gently about his whiny past, clapping your hands.

“Was I crying that much?”

“Like a baby.”

"but I have changed...and..."

you felt like the words were really struggling to come out. his voice was blocked and he didn't look you in the eye. he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I was totally stupid."

“apology accepted.”

“does that mean I have the right to a kiss?”

When you were little, you always gave Rafe a kiss on the cheek when he apologized. the memory made you smile tenderly.

you stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips with your mouth, and he lifted you by your ass to help you.

“you were always mine, baby. even when you left, even when he was here.”

“ because it’s as much to love you as to hate you, rafe cameron.”

“Is that why you dedicated this entire exhibition to me? I’m flattered.”

“you didn’t leave my head even though you left my life.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. and I still think of you now. "

“ah yes? and what do your thoughts say about me?”

"that I finally have the girl I've always waited for. and that I still want her just as much."

"How about you show me how much...I mean...not with your lips, big boy. It's time to show me how much you've grown.”

you had gone to his hotel room after the party. he had accompanied you during the rest of the event, never taking his eyes off you as if he was afraid of losing you again. he even felt himself tighten his arm around your waist. he didn't keep his hands in his pocket, because you were there. and above all that you finally loved him.

it was beautiful. you had been the first person rafe cameron had loved, the first person he had broken his heart, and also, the first person who had loved him. you were destined to each others.

in his room, you were surprised to see how gentle he was with you, that he had softly placed your body on his sheets like a princess. he took off his t-shirt and you salivated just seeing his muscular chest, his arms turned into huge biceps, his flat stomach turned into voluminous abs with a magnificent v-line. “ It seems like you worked hard to please me. ”

“ oh babe, don't waste your drool on yourself when you can literally splash it on my dick. but maybe my girl wanted it dry”

“ you're really big now. ”

“ wait, something bigger is coming at you. ”

you were in love with the way your boy had become a man. you were proud of him, you undid his belt, and pulled him by the leather of the accessory before sliding it down and wrapping it around his neck to push him towards you and kiss him again. rafe was so desperate for you, he was hard in his pants to the point where it was painful, and even his tongue against yours was lost in a messy burst of both of you saliva.

he had spread your legs, and removed his pants, before pulling you against him by the thighs to bring you back against his hips.

“spit.” he held out his hand to let you spit on his palm and coated his hard cock with your drool, using your saliva as some kind of lube.

he started touching himself quickly, slowing up and down, a tight grip around his veiny and rocking length. you placed your fingers against his to accompany him in his movements, while devouring him with your eyes.

“fuck, you’re too good for me.”

“so make me as bad as you.” you responded by separating the two lips of your cunt with your fingers to show him the way. “fuck me. now.”

“did you have sex with him?”

“no…” you admitted shyly. “I’m still a virgin. Does that bother you?”

“I’ve already had sex, does that bother you?”

"no, because I'm sure you've never been able to cum without thinking about me. You're so obsessed with me.”

he pushed his leaking and wet tip against your soaked folds, rubbing himself lightly on them. “can I ?”

“oh rafe, it's only if you don’t do it that we’re going to have a problem.” you laughed gently.

and it didn't take more for him to split your pussy with his throbbing dick to startly making his way inside you. he had done it gently, partly because he didn't want to hurt you, but because you were incredibly tight. he held your hands, before placing his lips on yours, and driving you crazy with slow thrusts, his hips gently bucking against yours.

his cock stretched you softly, moving back and forth and sliding inside your canal that surrounded every inch of his dick. once he felt your body relax, he fasted up the pace, your moans automatically becoming louder. you had never been fucked until now, but you understood now, why people liked it.

rafe was completely buried in you from his tip, to the pelvis which was slamming against your thighs and the mattress. he couldn’t be more in love with you. you were perfect.

he loved hearing your screams from across the room, knowing that he was the only one to make you moans like that. you were completely wet, and your dripping pussy helped him pound you quicker, and especially harder. he couldn't get enough of your face completely ruined by tears and pleasure, but especially of your walls squishing him until he felt his own stomach twitching by your trembling body sticking to his, the way your part convulsing around him as the strokes went deeper and deeper.

the bottom lip of your mouth was covered in your own saliva, your back arched against the sheets, and your entire body stimulated, spasms covering it, and forcing you to squirm in every direction.

his blue eyes were lost in your gaze. you didn’t know how but he always managed to go further, hitting every sensitive gummy and soaked spot only to ram it again.

you let out a muffled and depraved sound when his cock slammed into your insides all the way to your stomach. you threw your head back, completely losing control.

“I'm never going to stop and you never going to leave if you keep giving me those eyes. don't feel dizzy now, it's just the beginning. ” he blurted out as he continued to pound you, making your pussy dripping even more all over him, leaving him no choice but to speed up his movements to avoid any waste of your fluids. “ i really want to fuck you all the night. don't make that face, you made me wait for more than fucking ten years, it's just now so fair. ”

you had already had an orgasm, but his energy had doubled. you didn't know what time you stopped, but when you woke up, you were completely exhausted like your body had been used all night.

you wondered how different your relationship was going to be now, and if rafe was going to take responsibility for everything he did last night. you had too many questions, and not enough answers. you took a shower while waiting for him to wake up.

when you finally had the chance to have the famous conversation, you asked him. “do you regret it?”

"that you didn't let me do this way before? yes. for doing it last night? no. another question, babe?"

"yes. well, it's not a question. I don't really know how long I've loved you. I mean, you know the day you fell in love with me. whereas I realized that when I didn't stop painting your face I thought it was your absence but it was stronger than that. when we were young, we were dumb and clumsy. but thank you to let me come back because we finally found the right moment."

“you know very well that you never had to ask for anything to get everything you want from me. all is yours. ”

— tysm for reading 🫶🏿‼️