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#harry styles angst
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A Surprise^**
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Hello friends, thank you so much for your patience. I ended up having quite a disastrous day and it took longer to finish editing! But here is the one shot based off of this request. Hope you like it!
Warnings: TW! abusive partner: mentions of love-bombing, gaslighting/accusations of infidelity, verbal arguments, intimidation tactics (psychological and physical), physical altercation between M/F ( described, but more intimidating than violent or aimed to hurt), physical altercation between M/M (not described but the aftermath is mentioned, bloody nosy type of thing), mentions of law enforcement and law enforcement processes. Mentions of sex, unprotected sex, oral (M/F receiving), fingering, unplanned pregnancy, ultrasound procedure.
WC: 18.2K
You were nervous as you rode up in the elevator. You weren’t claustrophobic or anything, so the feeling of it closing in on you was one you had no idea how to deal with. You were trying to keep your breathing as calm as possible and clearing your head of any irrational or negative thoughts, but it was truly a challenge. It had been a nearly a year since you and Harry had been in any space together and it was nerve-racking. What was originally supposed to be a month or two-long break, turned into all this time and distance. He said he wanted to talk and get some closure, which you thought was bull shit, and that’s why you were so nervous.
Before “the break” you and Harry had been dating for four years. Things had been going really well up until he started getting antsy to work again. You’d moved to London for him and now that he was finally “off” you saw that he was jumping into the next thing he could. You understood that he felt like he needed to do something with his time but soon enough he was back in the studio for hours at a time while you just hung out at his house. You lasted a year like that before you told him that you couldn’t do it anymore. You felt lonely in your relationship with him and you saw that he wasn’t ready to slow down and settle a bit like he said he was before. That was the whole reason why you’d even moved to London for him. So when you suggested a little time apart to have him sort through his priorities he freaked out on you. But the following morning the tune was different, he was more open to this idea of taking some time apart.
You had assured him over and over again that you loved him but that you were ready for the next step and he clearly wasn’t. He then assured you that you were the love of his life and that he’d take a month or two to just tie up all the loose strings with his current project and then focus back on your relationship. You even went back home to LA to give him all the space he needed. You checked in with each other a lot but when the two months were up you reached out and didn’t get a response back until two weeks later. Much to your dismay it was just an “I’m sorry.” And with tears in your eyes you just deleted the entire messaging feed you had with him.
A few months later you were back on the dating scene. One of your co-workers set you up with her cousin, Steven. He came off as sweet, smart, and mature. He mostly had his shit together from what she’d said and you had seen, so you gave him a real chance. Yeah, he was no Harry, but no one would ever equate to Harry, so you stopped comparing and got to know him for who he was. Soon enough you’d started to develop more feelings for Steven, he showered you in attention and time and affection, it was almost too much, you thought. But then you recalled that things had been so cold with Harry towards the end that maybe you just weren’t used it anymore. It wasn’t love-bombing, it was just a man who is interested in showing you what you meant to him. After two months of seeing him casually you started talking about the future, about starting a real, committed relationship. You talked about properly meeting each other’s families and taking serious steps forward, you were gearing up to properly move on with someone who clearly prioritized you! And then Harry called. 
He was jealous, you heard it in his voice when he called, but the fact that he was jealous pleased you in a way. Honestly, you thought you’d be so well off that when you spoke to him you’d feel above him somehow, but when you heard his voice your heart ached with longing and your small victory suddenly made you feel a bit sadistic. He then asked to see you to get some closure and you quickly agreed because you needed it too. But that’s how you ended up at his hotel just an hour later. So far you were just standing there at his hotel door just taking each other in. Quite frankly, you were just pleased you had made it out of the elevator alive. But it felt like it’d been ages and no time at all at the same time, your heart was racing in the confines of your chest, making it hard to breathe once again. It made you so happy, but hurt your heart at the same time to see him. It was so confusing, feeling relief and joy and disappointment all at the same time. 
“You look great.” He complimented you after a few moments of staring.
“Oh! Thanks.” You smiled timidly, “H-how are you?”
“I’m alright. Come on in.” He said moving aside and you wandered in. You sat at the couch in his suite as he headed to the kitchenette.
“Can I offer you some water or tea?” He asked.
“No, I’m alright.” You assured and he nodded before coming over to sit near you on the couch. You sat in silence for a few moments again before he chuckled in slight disbelief and shook his head.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He confessed with a shake of his head.
“Me either.” You chuckled a bit humorlessly. He had wronged you…the only thing that you knew about him right now was that he did not love you as much as he said he did. If he did he wouldn’t have left you hanging like he had. “I guess I just…needed to see you one more time. I don’t think that we left off on a good note so-”
“Exactly. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He said leaning forward and taking your hand and your facade of stoicism and ease melted away immediately. The hurt from his actions just came to the surface and made a pang of pain ripple from your chest all the way out to your fingertips, you swore even your scalp hurt as his eyes met yours apologetically.
“Harry, it’s almost been a year.” You pointed out and he frowned.
“I know, love.” He confirmed, “And I haven’t even tried t-to apologize since that text I sent you.” He said and your eyes started welling up. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just…I got scared that if I took that step forward with you it meant that my work was gone.” He explained and you scoffed.
“Harry, no! When I asked you to slow down that’s all I meant. Slow down, not stop! I’d never tell you to stop.” You sighed, exasperated and upset that he even thought that you’d ever make him stop doing what he loved most, “I just wanted you to slow down a little and enjoy your life for yourself. Spend time with your mom and your sister and your cousins and nieces and nephews!” You vented, “W-with me.” You added towards the end and he nodded in understanding. “What you do with your work matters to me. I see how happy it makes you. And I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me about your priorities.” You said and he shook his head.
“You didn’t. I should’ve talked to you about it all, Y/N. I know I fucked up, big time, but I love you and-”
“No you don’t…” you interrupted with a scoff as you pulled your hand away from his, “You’re just jealous because I’m ready to move on with someone else now.” You said to him and he glanced up at the ceiling and smiled sadly.
“Yeah, of course I’m fucking jealous!” he confessed through a pained, breathy laugh, “And I still love you and whether you believe it or not because of my previous actions, I respect you and you deserve an apology. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He explained as his eyes met yours again, “I know that I’ve lost you, Y/N.” He said sadly, “Believe me, I didn’t come to try and talk you out of that decision. I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I love you with my whole heart. I should’ve fought for you. You showed me so much love and gave me all of your care and support all the time! I shouldn’t have been scared t-to talk about it. I shouldn’t have let you go.” He explained, “I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life, Y/N. I know that.” He sniffled and you wiped your tears carefully. “I just needed you to know that it’s not anything you did. I love you, even still, I think I’ll die loving you.” He said.
“Jesus, Harry…” you inhaled sharply before standing up quickly. You grabbed your purse from the coffee table and started rushing back to the door.
“Baby! Baby, baby, baby-” he rushed in front of you blocking the door, “J-just wait.” He sniffled, he looked panicked.
“Why should I?” You questioned him, “Why now?” You asked for clarity and he swallowed thickly, “You had this whole fucking time and now that I’m just about t-to forget about you, y-you show up and…” you trailed off as your anger boiled over and your tears started to trickle down your face more heavily.
“Y/N, I’m sorry-” He started.
“Y-you better not be trying to manipulate me!” You warned, your voice raised in accusation and he shook his head.
“I know it might seem that way b-but I’m not, love. I’m not looking for anything from you, I know I don’t deserve it. I just needed t-to see you and apologize to you and tell you how I feel before you wouldn’t entertain the idea of me in your presence ever again. And I know you probably hate me so much right now-” He explained and you inhaled sharply with a disappointed shake of your head.
“That’s the stupidest fucking part of this whole thing! I-” you stopped and shook your head, “I felt so happy when I heard from you.” You confessed, “And I still have so much love for you.” You sniffled and felt sick to your stomach just admitting it. You felt like an idiot for it.
You had gone over a very similar scenario in your head if not millions of times before while daydreaming or lying in bed. You dreamed of him coming back and apologizing and you having the strength to not come crawling back to him after whatever excuse he gave. Except you’d gotten it wrong. Harry wasn’t standing before you asking you to come back to him with an underlying arrogance that came with knowing that your love was enough to have you come back to him. He was actually just coming to be accountable for his mistakes and to apologize to you for hurting you. He came with humility and sincere repentance for his errors, no ulterior motives. And well, you weren’t nearly as strong as you thought you’d be by now.
“Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I don’t deserve it.” He recognized, “And I know that you’re happy.”
“I am.” You sniffled.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel confused, I really didn’t want that. I really just wanted to make things as right as I could after all this time.”
“Thank you.” You responded and he gave you one firm nod. “I think I should go.” You said and he glanced into your eyes and just waited for a moment and when you didn’t waiver he exhaled and moved out of your way to let you leave.
You reached for the door and opened it up before stepping out into the hall, pulling it shut behind you as you cried quietly as you walked back to the elevator, what seemed like a trap before now felt like your much needed escape. You were just about to step inside when you glanced back down the hallway at his door, questioning if you’d been too harsh. After all, you did miss him and you still loved him…you’d definitely regret not giving him a hug goodbye or even just confirming to him that you forgave him. So with all the strength you had, you ignored that pull to return to him and got inside and left. It was time to move on.
****************
You’d been quiet and in your head all afternoon. Internalizing everything you were feeling was weird because you were never one to just let things brew in silence. You had to talk about it and your best friend was back in the UK and she had an important work thing in the morning so you couldn’t interrupt and you just wanted to talk to someone who would be 100% real with you. You decided to just distract yourself until stopped by for dinner, surely his company would provide an adequate distraction.
But even when Steven arrived you found yourself ruminating on how awkwardly you’d left Harry. You certainly got what you needed but you were out of there so fast that you had no idea if he got the closure he needed from you and now you felt bad! That’s what you were thinking about, but your silent and pensive demeanor had Steven feeling iced out which he did not like. So after sitting in your little living room on his phone for half an hour in complete silence as his football game droned on, on the TV he figured he’d just ask you.
“Babe, are you upset at me?” He finally asked as he came into the kitchen. You were just grating some carrots into the salad you were making for dinner.
“No.” You assured him with a small smile as you glanced up at him briefly.
“Well, you’ve been oddly quiet since I got here. More than half the time I’m wishing you’d just shut up for five minutes but I don’t know anymore…it’s weird.” He joked, trying to make light of the situation. But upon hearing that your brows pinched in confusion and offense at his “joke”.
“That’s quite rude and not funny at all. I heard you turn on the game and you don’t like it when I talk to you when you’r watching so I just stayed quiet.” You mumbled a bit spitefully before going back to grating and he came closer and placed a hand on your hip.
“Damn, you’re so sensitive, it was a joke.” He said mawkishly and your irritation continued blooming so you refused to look at him, “Y/N, you’re clearly in your head about something and now you’re taking it out on me.” He said and you sighed.
“I’m not taking anything out on you, Steven. I’m just thinking some stuff through.” You shared with him.
“Stuff like…?” He pressed.
“Like…my ex, Harry.” You said and he straightened up at the mention of Harry’s name.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked with a sardonic smile and you put down the carrot and glanced up at him.
“You asked.” You emphasized and he huffed out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m not done, so listen up because it’s good news for you.” You said and he clenched his jaw and nodded, “Well he’s in town and he asked to see me so we could talk,” You explained and Steven’s expression twisted into a disconcerting look, “so earlier I met up with him and we talked-”
“Wait.” He cut you off, “Why the hell would you think to go see your ex?” He asked you, fully offended over what you’d done this afternoon.
“I went to get closure! And well, considering we’ve been talking about starting a relationship in the near future it’s good for us that I just close that door for good.” You explained and he shook his head.
“And you didn’t think to tell me about this before you went there?”
“It happened so fast and I know you were meeting clients all day so I-”
“You should have at least asked if I was fine with you doing that!” He groaned with frustration and you frowned.
“Like…ask you for permission?” You asked and he shook his head.
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Y/N.” He snapped quickly.
“I’m not, I was asking for clarification. You said I should’ve asked if it was alright with you before going. Is that not asking for permission?” You asked and he sighed.
“Look, not permission but like…at least consider me! Like, have me be there so he doesn’t get any ideas.” He said and you looked at him like he was completely delusional.
“W-what?!” You asked in disbelief, “Why would I invite you into a conversation with me and my ex about our old relationship?” You questioned.
“Because, I need to make sure nothing weird is going on! And if you didn’t want me there, which you clearly didn’t, then you should’ve asked if I was cool with you going to meet him all alone! It makes me uncomfortable to think of you two alone.” He said and you were complete confused at his logic.
“And what if you said that no, I couldn’t go?” You asked.
“I would’ve said no and you would’ve not gone.” He rebutted confidently and you were in total shock, “You have no business talking to him again, Y/N.” He added and you sighed and shook your head in exasperation.
“I wanted answers and an apology, Steven. I am owed at least that! And he took responsibility. He was able to give that to me.” You said and he scoffed.
“You’re…you’re so fucking naive.” He said and you looked at him in confusion, “It’s a test. He was testing you! Testing you to see if you’re still loyal to him. Testing to see if he still has power over you! And guess what? By going there all alone the moment he called you up, you confirmed that for him. You confirmed that he still owns you!” He was speaking to you in the most belittling way. You felt your rage flaring up inside of you.
“What are you even saying?!” You scoffed in disbelief, “It was just a conversation! I was in and out of there in less than 10 minutes!” You laughed incredulously.
“10 minutes? Really? That alone fucked you up so much you couldn’t talk to me?” He asked with a sardonic look on his face and you rolled your eyes, “See now, I’m not so sure that something else didn’t happen between you two.” He soft-launched his accusation and you scoffed.
“Nothing happened! I’m telling you that he said what he needed to say and I just left!” You explained, “I’m just thinking on it because I don’t feel right about just having left like that.” You explained, “It was awkward, the way I handled it. I didn’t even ask him if he had any questions for me or anything else to say, I was selfish. I just got the apology I needed and that was that.” You said a bit sadly and his jaw clenched for a second before biting down on the inside of his cheek.
“You promise that was it?” He asked you after a few moments of silence.
“I promise! Literally we just talked.” You reiterated and he nodded.
“Fine. I’m sorry.” He said grumpily, like a child who is dying inside because they had to apologize. You imagined he was feeling a bit ashamed or even embarrassed for jumping to conclusions like that and being so off the mark. So you walked up to him and hugged him tight as you rested your head against his chest. You relaxed in his arms and smiled when you felt his hand grab your jaw and angle up your face. Your eyes met for a few tense seconds, you were preparing for him to ardently kiss you but suddenly his hand fell from your jaw and grabbed around your throat, right beneath your jaw. Your eyes widened in fear as his grip got a bit tighter by the second. His eyes were dark as he stared into yours.
“S-steven.” You gasped in concern as you started to run out of oxygen. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, eyes watery and full of fear as your nails dug into his wrist hoping to startle him out of whatever possessed him to do this.
“I don’t want you talking to or seeing him again. Never again. Do you understand me?” He demanded and you felt your entire body just turn cold. You had no idea how to even react to this change in Steven’s demeanor so you just nodded. “You’re going to be mine soon and I need to know that I can trust you fully.” He said “I want to trust you. But can I? Can I trust you to stay away from him?” he asked and you nodded again, you’d do anything to get out of this situation, “Then say it. Swear to me.” He insisted darkly as he loosened his grip around you.
“I-I’ll never talk to him or see him again.” You whispered, “I swear.” You insisted with tearful eyes and he let you go before walking out of the kitchen silently. 
You grabbed onto the counter because your legs unexpectedly lost their strength. You were panting, struggling so hard to breathe as this entire interaction processed in your brain. You suddenly felt extremely nauseated as a wave of fear overcame you. You trembled wordlessly for a bit, feeling so devastatingly mortal. You’d never had such little power. You’d never felt so small. After a short, uncomfortable, and contemplative moment you grabbed the carrot you had been working on and got back to grating. You just had to take deep breaths and grate.
You were walking on egg shells for the remainder of the night, doing anything and everything to act as normal as possible and not bait him into another aggression. Meanwhile, he was genuinely chatting with you so casually, as if he hadn’t just grabbed you by the throat like that. It terrified you that he wasn’t acting, he was genuinely fine. You were questioning yourself now, wondering if there were signs you missed? Granted, you were now getting into more serious turf, but there was nothing that you’d seen before that indicated towards him ever behaving this way. Even as you lay in bed attempting to get some rest you just stared at your ceiling thinking about that moment. How dark his eyes looked…did you need to tell someone? It’s not like he’d actually hurt you…or threatened you…he just made you promise to stay away from Harry. There wasn’t even a mark on you. Who would believe you or what could you even do about it?
He sweetened up intensely after that though and it had your mind reeling. Even when you’d had sex earlier he had been so possessive. Normally, any type of sensual talk got you going but when he told you he was “going to make you his” as he finished it didn’t have the usual or intended effect, it made you feel uneasy and made you regret having slept with him after what had happened earlier on. You immediately hopped into the shower because you just needed to wash off the memory of him of on you. You held in your tears because you thought he would join you but he just called out a goodbye after some minutes. But even in your solitude you were practically frozen and emotionless. You’d never experienced him like that and it worried you, so you decided to talk to your friend about it.
*****************
You were nervous to talk to Marie about this because she was also his cousin, but you just needed to know if there was a history to Steven that you didn’t know yet. Maybe he’d done something like this before, just got aggressive and overly possessive with another partner? Or perhaps he’d been cheated on and severely overreacted because of his past hurt? But Marie’s sort of distant demeanor should’ve tipped you off that things were not going to be good with this conversation.
“Thanks for meeting me. I actually wanted t-to talk to you about something important.” You said as soon as the waiter left after bringing your drinks. “Something that happened w-with Steven.” You said and she pulled away from her straw.
“Look, you don’t need to tell me what happened, Y/N.” She interjected, “Steven already told me.” She said flatly and for a second her anger seemed just. You were glad she was angry at him for you. “And look I love you and you’re my friend, but quite frankly, I can’t believe you’d go and hook up with Harry after how good Steven has been to you.” She said and your jaw dropped in shock.
“W-wait what?” You asked incredulously.
“Don’t do that with me, Y/N. I know how weak you are for Harry.” She said and you shook your head, “I mean…I did warn Steven early on t-to be careful and take his time with you because you’d probably cave and run back to Harry.” She said and you frowned, “But after all this time? I mean Jesus, Y/N! The man pretended like you didn’t exist for almost a year! How little self respect do you have t-to allow him back in after everything?!” She questioned you with disappointment and a harsh judgement.
“Is that really what you think of me?” You asked her and she sighed.
“Look, I’m sorry for being so harsh but I love you and I’m angry at you for cheating on my cousin. He’s a good guy!” She defended her stance and you shook your head.
“I didn’t cheat on your cousin. We’re not even in an official or exclusive relationship so even if I had fooled around with Harry he has nothing to be upset over! He’s the one who hasn’t wanted to be exclusive yet!” You corrected and Marie smiled incredulously down at her drink, “You don’t have to believe me about Harry if you don’t want but believe this, Steven? He’s not a good guy.” You said and she looked up at you again fully offended.
“Y/N, look-”
“No, listen to me. I just need you t-to hear me out. Last night he…h-he grabbed me really hard by the throat and made me swear I would never talk to or see Harry again. He terrified me.” You confessed and her eyes didn’t even soften up, “I came t-to ask if maybe I’d struck a nerve by mistake, looking to justify how he behaved towards me but the fact that he got to you first and lied about what happened…that just confirmed to me that I want nothing to do with him. He’s a ticking time bomb and I refuse to be collateral damage.” You said as you stood from your seat.
“How dare you.” She said and stood as well and you shook your head. “You can’t just go around throwing accusations about someone like that! Especially about this sort of thing! It could ruin him, Y/N!” She said with a quiet and calculated rage.
“Believe what you want, but I want nothing to do with either of you ever again.” You said to her and walked off. When you sat in your car you were trembling with rage, you could not believe the last 24 hours of your life. You were just collecting yourself before taking off, you didn’t want to get on the road with that much anger flowing through your veins. You jumped in surprise when your phone started ringing loudly from your purse and you groaned and reached for it and when you saw Harry’s name on the screen you just felt a wave of comfort and then it turned into fear. You knew Steven wasn’t here but you couldn’t help but glance around your immediate surroundings before answering the call.
“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver tentatively.
“Y/N, I ummm, I need you to come down to my hotel right away if you can.” He said to you and you felt your stomach drop.
“W-why?” You asked him nervously.
“Your boyfriend broke into my suite and tried to attack me.” He said and you gasped. “Are you alright?” You asked instantly.
“Yeah, thankfully. But now h-he’s telling the officers that you put him up to this.” He said lowly, “Just come and we’ll sort this out.” He assured.
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You said and took off despite your heightened emotions.
Just before you arrived to Harry’s suite you saw a pair of officers guide Steven away down the hall in hand cuffs. He had a bandage over his nose and a busted lip. He barely held eye contact with you as they pulled him along. You rushed down the hall and hurried into the open suite more than relieved to see a paramedic only icing Harry’s hand while he talked to one of the officers looming over him.
“Oh my god, I’m glad you’re okay!” You exclaimed in relief and he stood right away and hugged you tight as you leaned into him and that’s when all of your emotions from even the night before caught up with you and you started to cry. 
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you lowly.
“Yeah, but sometimes you minimize things to not worry anyone so…” you reminded and he chuckled a little as you pulled back, “I’m so sorry about this, H. Sincerely. Genuinely! I-I can’t believe he went as far as pulling something like this.” You expressed, still quite flabbergasted at what had gone down. Harry rubbed over your back in comforting circles.
“It’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you, “He’s worse off than I am.” He smirked a bit as he delivered this news.
“Oh, I saw.” You chuckled through your tears and he hummed. “You’re not gonna get into any trouble, are you?” You asked.
“No, love.” He assured you, “I acted in self-defense so we’re all clear there. He did give me a good scare though.” He said more seriously and you sighed. 
“This never should have happened…I just don’t get it where this came from? I swear, this is not at all like him! I’ve never seen him behave this way in the couple months we’ve been seeing each other. Even last night was just so out of character for how he’s always been towards me! And I’m not trying to make excuses for him. Clearly this is fucked-”
“Wait. What happened last night?” Harry asked you more seriously and you sighed and shook your head.
“Nothing, really.” You said to him and he gave you a look, not a scary one, just an insistent one. You sighed and shrugged, “Last night when I…when I told him we met up to talk and get closure he got really angry at me. Like, he was livid. It was truly an overreaction to me mentioning that I was really happy over having received that apology from you but that I felt like I had been awkward about it and left it weird with us.” You explained, “Then, he asked why I didn’t ask for permission t-to talk to you or see you or why I didn’t ask him to come with me? And I explained that I agreed to meet with you so that we could clear the air so that I could move on with him in peace and he accused me of fooling around with you.” You explained monotonously as you felt like you were there all over again, “I assured him we just talked and he then pretended like it was fine and apologized half-heartedly… and I went in to hug him but then it’s like a switch flipped.” You recounted what had happened, “I thought he was going t-to kiss me but he…” your voice faded out into an exhale, “H-he grabbed me so hard by the throat and made me swear that I wouldn’t see o-or talk to you ever again-”
“Miss?” One of the officers interrupted and you turned towards the officer as Harry released you just a bit. 
“Yes?” You asked softly.
“Can you elaborate more on this altercation?” He asked and you swallowed thickly.
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” You said softly, eyes now laser focused on Harry’s dangling pendant as your vision started to blur with more building tears. You were scared more than worried about getting Steven into any more trouble and Harry could see that. “Love, look at me.” Harry insisted and you blinked rapidly as one of your tears trickled down your cheek before you looked up at him, “If he did anything to scare you, you need to report it.” He said, “He’s fucked as it is for this, he can’t do anything to you ever again. He won’t.” Harry assured you and you nodded.
You proceeded to explain what had happened and how he had grabbed you. You explained that you felt intimidated and frozen and unsure of what to do next after the altercation. You were asked why you didn’t call the police or make a report and you explained that you didn’t think there was anything to report. He hadn’t technically hit you or injured you. You had no visible marks on you or anything to prove this apart from the fear you’d been harboring ever since. But the officer informed you that even a forceful grab is considered assault in the sate of California. And that speaking to you that way, exerting any tactics to make you feel subdued or intimidated were also considered acts of aggression and intimidation that were reportable offenses. And after a few more questions and you assuring them that he had never done anything like this to you before they moved back to the situation with Harry. With police reports filed they went on their way and you offered to get Harry a new place to spend the rest of his trip.
**************
It was just a few hours later and you were sitting in your living room waiting for Harry to come out of the shower and for his lawyer to arrive. You felt awful for this whole thing with Steven, you really had no idea he was a psycho like this. Marie had actually tried calling you almost 20 times and had sent you about 15 texts asking you to call back and that she was sorry for not believing you earlier. You were still too angry at her to respond so you put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” and just focused on the TV and wondered if it was a good idea to have brought Harry to your home. You had found another place for him to stay but before you booked it he asked if it would be alright to use your guest room because he was concerned for your safety since Steven knew where you lived. 
His concerns were valid. And you knew that Steven was well connected and had several lawyer friends who you were sure could get him out on bail by the morning, so you agreed to let him stay. You just didn’t want to also put Harry in harm’s way again. You would never forgive yourself if Steven did anything to hurt him. All in all, none of this felt real, you felt like you were in an unhinged daytime soap episode just waiting for another tragedy to befall you and those in your life. You were so on edge that you flinched in fright when the doorbell rang. Once the shiver passed through your body you hurried over to see through the peephole and saw Harry’s lawyer waiting there.
“Hi Darius.” You greeted him with a smile and he smiled back upon seeing you as well. It’d been quite a while.
“Y/N! Wow!” He chuckled, “It’s so great to see you!” He greeted you happily as you led him inside.
“Likewise! I think Harry’s just finishing up his shower, he had quite the day.” You said as you locked up behind him and he sighed.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry to hear about that. But I’m glad he’s safe and that you’re also safe.” He assured you and you thanked him before guiding him over to the kitchen and allowing him to get set up while you went to grab the Coca-cola he’d requested. 
It was just a couple of minutes before Harry joined you two and caught up a bit with Darius before he got into the story of what happened. Harry was going to follow through on pressing charges and he was even more motivated to get it all done ASAP when he heard what Steven had done to you the night before. He wanted to give Darius his statement as well while it was fresh in his memory so that it matched up perfectly to what he’d told the police and so he started answering the questions while Darius recorded and took notes as well. But hearing it in detail for yourself made it all the more sinister for you. You weren’t even thinking about it all that deeply when you reached for Harry’s hand under the table and he paused and briefly looked at you.
“Sorry.” You mouthed and started to pull it away from him but he instead tangled your fingers together and kept talking.
You stayed at his side for the rest of the time until Darius left, assuring you both that he’d let you know as soon as any headway was made in this case. With a final farewell you were locking up behind him as Harry waited for you just a small distance away. You sighed and turned to him.
“I’m so, so sorry about this, Harry. If I had know that he would do something like this… I mean, I just shouldn’t have said anything to him about you or-”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know, love?” He asked as he grabbed your face gently, right under your jaw and you swallowed thickly and he quickly slid his hands down to your shoulders. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.” He said and you shook your head.
“It’s alright. It’s still fresh.” You reminded and he sighed and shook his head.
“I’m sorry…if I had just come back to you when I was supposed to we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He said and you sighed.
“You weren’t happy though, I mean…you preferred to be alone all this time instead of back with me so…it was the right thing for you at the time.” You said to him.
“You forgive me though, right? For not…” he trailed off and you nodded.
“Yeah, H.” You assured him and he pecked your lips quickly.
“Thank you.” He said quietly.
“Of course.” You whispered back. Your lips still tingling from his quick kiss. 
“Sorry, I just needed to kiss you.” He said and you smiled slightly.
“I get it.” You assured him. “D-do you want to…sleep with me?” You asked with a little bit of hesitation.
“Yeah, love.” He said without a hint of a doubt, “Of course. I’m a bit shaken up myself.” He said and you nodded.
“C’mon then.” You said and grabbed his hand and guided him to your bedroom. You guys washed up and then cuddled into your bed. 
You faced each other silently, just looking at each other, taking each other in. You were telling each other you had missed each other with your shared, longing gaze, but you refused to touch. You both loved the static and electric feeling buzzing between your bodies far too much. It was masochism in its purest form. It hurt to be apart, you missed his vibe. His energy. His presence…Harry was a warm, little ball of light, even on his dark days. He was the kindest, most thoughtful person you’d been is fortunate to encounter. He was so hard on himself also, and you knew he was angry at himself right now. You didn’t want him to be though, you wanted him to be here with you and enjoying this reunion, however unfortunate the situation was that led to it. 
The amount of love you felt for him was impossible. As you laid in silence you smiled because you had truly missed the sound of his breathing. You inhaled his exhales, feeling more than grateful to be within his reach. You wanted to feel him on you, skin to skin. You shivered as you felt this intense love just surge through you.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” You said softly and sincerely. His eyes glanced down, averting from your gaze as he smiled in disbelief. “I mean it.” 
“Even after all this time?” He asked, “After everything I’ve done?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t hurt by you.” You smiled and he chuckled, “But yeah, I still love you despite those things.”
“Enough to give me another chance?” He asked.
“I…I mean, yeah.” You chuckled nervously. “And I don’t know i-if I’m a complete fool for that?! But I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, baby. More so lately…” he said and you hummed.
“Why’s that?” You asked.
“Umm…I was cleaning out your side of things. Like to send ‘em back to you and I just…I found this little box in the corner on your side of the closet-”
“The memory box!” You exclaimed, remembering its existence.
“Yeah…I just got to see all of the wonderful things we’ve shared together. How you’ve been there for absolutely everything. You’ve never let me down.” He said softly, “And I just…felt like a total fool for dismissing that. Nothing feels the same without you, you’re the thing that just…tied everything together, you know? You made my heart feel…whole.” He explained, “When I say that I miss you that’s what I mean. I’ve been incomplete without you around, Y/N. I’ve been missing you from everything. I’m so sorry that I waited until I almost lost you to reach out to you…” he whispered with shame. You frowned and reached for his cheek
“Everything happens for a reason, honey.” You whispered, “I mean, I’m glad you came along at this time because you saved me from a potentially dangerous situation.” You said more solemnly.
“I’m glad I was here for this. May-maybe this is a…sign of sorts for you to come back home with me.” He said a bit carefully. 
Harry was nervous to bring this up to you but he really just didn’t want you staying anywhere near this man. He wanted to be certain that he could keep you safe, that he could protect you and ensure that you were never so easily in harm’s way again.  And on top of that, his love for you continued simmering lowly in the background, it had never gone out. He just fled out of fear and he regretted it so much. He had been selfish and didn’t realize it until far too late. It filled him with gratitude that you’d even hear him out for an apology, let alone give him another chance. A chance that he may have blown with this suggestion he’d just put out there.
“Ummm…I…I’m not sure w-what to say to that.” You responded honestly, “Like, my first instinct is to say yes.” You chuckled nervously and while he was relieved to hear that, he held off his excitement to hear what would come next, “But like you’ve acknowledged a couple times already, we’ve been apart for a while and I think we both hurt each other to some extent and I worry that…in jumping right back into where we left things off that we’ll forget about all of the issues that led to us breaking down instead of working through them.” You said and he hummed.
“Yeah, that’s extremely valid.” He responded, “And I guess I want this right now mainly because I don’t want you here all alone.” He explained, “I realize we have things to work through before we can get to where we were before all this. And I’m so willing to put in the work with you to get to that stage again. But right now I just want to ensure that you’re safe and far away from that prick, Steven. That’s my main concern as of now, baby.”
“Well thank you for worrying about me. I would love to leave with you but I don’t think it’d be a smart move.” You sighed.
“Even just for a few weeks until things cool off a bit? I can set you up somewhere else even.” He said and you bit your lip pensively.
“I’ll think about it.” You responded.
“Okay, that’s…that’s enough for me.” He whispered back.
***********************
It  was a couple weeks later when Steven finally showed up at your place. Obviously you had the locks changed, so his key didn’t work, which really angered him. And when you heard him shouting at you and pounding on the door, threatening to break in if you didn’t allow him in, you immediately called the cops as you had a restraining order filed against him. You also recorded everything this time as you tried to calmly coax him into leaving before they showed up. He was angry that Harry was pressing charges against him and he wanted you to talk him out of it. You knew better than to say anything about Harry’s case, so instead you asked Steven how he even got access to Harry’s location. Up until this point it was all speculation, you just assumed he grabbed the information off of your phone, that really was the only way. But there was no proof yet that this was a premeditated aggression on Steven’s end. So when he confessed to you that he searched for the information on your phone you were relieved and would submit that as further evidence to get a more strict order against him.
He refused to leave and the longer you didn’t let him in the angrier he got and even broke a window. Thankfully, the police were just arriving when this happened and they submitted an Emergency Protective Order, this was far more strict than the restraining order but that was really all they could do. You really didn’t feel safe anymore so the next morning you contacted your landlord and explained to her what had happened and let her know that you’d have to terminate your lease early for your safety. She was kind and didn’t make you pay the extra fee or even make you finish out a whole month, she just hoped you’d fine somewhere else soon. 
You contacted Harry and of course, he said you could stay with him for a little bit. You felt stupid for not just doing that to begin with like he had suggested. But the reality was that he had also hurt you and let you down and you were worried about what moving in together again so soon would do to impact your future. But for the time being this felt like the safest choice. Steven knew your friends and co-workers in the area thanks to Marie, so there was no one you could go to in LA that you felt he wouldn’t think of. It pained you to quit your job and pack up your life and go, but you needed to. Of course, Harry welcomed you with open arms and you were grateful to know that you were a whole continent and ocean away from LA right now. 
*****************
It had been three weeks of you living with Harry and things had been going well so far. You felt drained though, like completely fatigued from everything, you often felt this way when you were anxious or depressed so you prioritized reconnecting with your therapist from before right away. You were seeing her every week so far and were eager to see and feel the results of doing this deep and healing work after what had happened to you and Harry in LA. You also reconnected with a few friends and they were helping you network a bit to find a job. Harry assured you that he was more than capable to take care of you but you didn’t feel comfortable with that, especially since your romantic future together was still a bit up in the air.
You two were doing well, you were reconnecting as friends more than anything right now. Living with him was comfortable though, you had lived together before though, so you knew how to exist in the same space together. You soon noticed that just being in a situation that was familiar to you both was making you both more affectionate towards each other though, which you both had been working hard to keep at bay. Of course, the feelings were there, but having those little things that reminded you, you weren’t alone made you smile, like now…
“Baby, I’m home! Are you here?” Harry called as he came into the house.
“Yeah, I’m in the laundry room!” You called back over the rumble of the washing machine as you folded your laundry. Moments later he was coming into the small, warm room with a smile on his face.
“Hi, love! How was it today?” He asked as he came up to you and hugged you.
“It was good. I met with Poppy and her friend, Sheila, she’s the one who just started up her own tanner line or something and needs an accountant? She’s interested, so I’m meeting with her and her partner again her next week when she’s back from her vacation to see about the position.” You shared.
“That’s really good. Hopefully it pans out.”
“I hope so too.” You said as you dropped the t-shirt you were working on in the basket with folded laundry so that you could interlace your fingers as you clung to him.
“And like I said before though, no rush, okay? You’re doing plenty to help out here. And after everything else you’ve been through, taking it slow can’t hurt.” He added.
“Thank you. I really do appreciate that, H.” You smiled.
“Of course, love.” He hummed. You pulled back slowly and looked into each other’s eyes. “I’m really happy you’re here.” He reassured you.
“Thank you, baby.” You whispered.
“Baby?” He asked with a grin and you rolled your eyes and sighed.
“Well, I mean…you call me that, so…”
“It feels right, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” You agreed with a smile.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You whispered with a smile. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek.
“Can I kiss your for real?” He asked you quietly and you just nodded. Moments later your lips met in a tentative kiss. There was a little bit of hesitation at first but seconds later you were kissing with more depth. Your hands held his as he cupped your face tenderly as you continued to kiss. You’d kissed very quickly a handful of times since your arrival but nothing like this where you could feel yourself getting all hot and bothered by it.
“Baby…” you mumbled into the kiss.
“Right…sorry.” He hummed and let you go breaking the kiss abruptly and you chuckled as you blindly reached down your leg and finally grabbed the dryer sheet that was half hanging out of the dryer and tickling your leg. You crumbled it up and tossed it in the garbage bin just a few feel away from you before turning back and looking up to him.
“You can continue now.” You said with a small smile and he grinned before picking you up and setting you on the dryer as your mouths met with more urgency. Your kiss and need started to grow and grow and boil over very quickly.
It really wasn’t planned when he carried you to his room and got you undressed. Even though you’d yet to resolve everything from before, you didn’t feel worried or wrong about this. You felt comfortable and beautiful as you felt his bare skin against your own. You were eagerly awaiting it as he kissed down your body and made you feel so good along the way. He wasted no time in getting down and going down on you, showing you just how much he had missed you. He savored you and gave you his best until you were starting to lose your grip on reality.
“Oh fuck, I missed you…” you giggled through a moan as his tongue did it’s wonderful work between your legs. You were tingling all over as he flicked over your clit until you were trembling and then he started to suck, “Oh my god!” You gasped as your eyes started to roll back. “I’m getting so close!” You warned. 
Your lips parted and you started to pant when he started to work two fingers into you. Your breath hitched when he curved them up into your g-spot. You felt your body melt into the bed for a second before he started to fuck into you harden until you were so tense your legs trembled as you started to come. The soft moans flowing from your lips were egging Harry on, making him even more hungry for you. You pulled him back up to you and your lips met eagerly as you reached for the button of his jeans.
“Want ‘em off?” He asked and you nodded, “Sure, baby?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yeah, baby. I want you. I need you.” You whispered and he smiled before kissing your lips quickly before pulling back a bit.
“I just…I need you to know that if we do this I want us t-to be the thing that means we’re going to try again.” He said and your gaze softened, “Obviously, I’ve missed your body and having you like this, but this is more than that to me. I want it to  be more than that.” He said and you nodded.
“I do too, baby. I want to try again. I really do.” You said to him with welled up eyes and he smiled and kissed you slowly again.
“You are everything to me.” He mumbled as you helped get his pants off blindly as he tugged the material down, “I’m never going to forget that again. I swear it, baby. You make me so fucking happy.” He panted as he toed off the pants before he climbed over you and pulled you up with him towards the the top of the bed. You climbed over his lap and kissed his passionately. Harry’s hands roamed your naked body with expertise. He knew the spots to touch and to pay mind to as you guys worked up to the love-making bit. You too appreciated his body. You touched and kissed over his body and took his length into your mouth, working him up just a bit more before you two had sex. 
“Shit, baby…fuck that’s so good!” He groaned as you sunk down on him until you gagged around his tip. You weren’t as used to his size as you once were. 
“Careful, baby. Go easy.” He reminded as he stroked over your cheek lovingly before running his thumb along your stretched out bottom lip. He loved seeing how you fit him in your hot little mouth. It had his abs clenching hard as you rolled and fondled his heavy balls in your hands until he was fighting the urge to start thrusting in your mouth. “Baby, please…please, I need you.” He panted and you popped off of him and glanced up at him.
“Can I get on?” You asked and he swallowed thickly.
“A-are you sure you want this?” He asked and you nodded.
“I do, H. I want this with you. I want everything with you. Everything that we had, I want it all back. I love you more than anything in the wor-” he cut you off with his kiss and laid you down. You were dying of impatience as hi heavy erection glided against your slicked up and swollen folds, you were so ready to have him back.
“I love you. I love you so much.” He whispered as he lined up to your entrance.
“I love you too. Please just…I need you.” You begged and so he pushed forward until he was sinking deep in your hot, wet little hole until he bottomed out. 
You hissed as you adjusted back to his size, he was great about it, so patient and eager to get you going by rubbing over your clit until you were so wet you were sliding up and down his shaft. He watched you hungrily as you lifted your hips up and down to feel him moving inside of you. But it got to the point where he needed to take over and just get you both to come. His thrusts were deep and slow, he was bottoming out with each one, it was making your brain blank each and every time he sunk into the deepest part of you. Your body was tingling and your walls fluttering and pulsing around him with every movement. Everything felt so good with him. He was looking down at you with so much adoration it was making you even more emotional.
“Baby, baby don’t cry.” He chuckled as he kissed your forehead as a few tears streamed down your cheek.
“It just feels so…good.” You sniffled and he kissed you quickly, “It feels so good to be with you.” You hummed as you rolled your hips up against his and he moaned lowly and kissed you again.
“Yeah? Are you gonna come for me?” He asked and you nodded. “Good girl, let me know when you’re getting close.”
“I will.” You whined out as he delved deep and ground against you until your eyes squeezed shut, “Shit!” You gasped as he started thrusting a bit faster into that spot until you just felt yourself leaking around.
“Fuck…” he laughed, “Fuck, you’re so wet f’me, I-I’m getting close.” He panted and you whined and started to rub your clit to catch up to him.
In a few moments you were right there on the edge with him. Your back was arching as you moaned his name as your orgasm nearly took you out. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurring as you started to come around him. He started to thrust faster to get off, but he was drawing out your orgasm until you were trembling.
“Fuck…fuck, I’m coming!” He warned as he started to press himself up to pull out. “Oh fuuuuck…” he moaned as he started to stroke himself as he came all over your mound. He thrusted his sensitive cock through your folds, making a little mess of you before kissing you ardently. “I love you. Love you so fucking much.” He whispered, his voice cracked as he started to cry and you pulled him into your chest and held him tight as you both just let your raw emotions out in this moment. 
You both needed it desperately. After he settled down he hurried to get something to clean you off and then you started to talk about you two. What you wanted, what you hoped to see in the future. You’d had these conversations before but even now the things that Harry was saying to you were complete different than before. Losing you seemed to be the thing that woke him up to how much he’d been taking you for granted. He’d gotten used to it, he’d gotten complacent at your expense.
“It’s going to be so different this time.” He said softly as he looked deep in your eyes, “I will be different this time.” He assured and you sighed.
“I believe you…there’s just a little part of me that is still not ready to let you back in.” You explained after he had explained how he was going to show up for you from now on, “I want to just trust you fully, but I’m afraid that you’ll make a fool of me again. That you’ll hurt me again.” You explained, “And I know y-you won’t but I just need to let you know that I’m still learning to trust you fully again.” You explained. “So please just…be a little patient with me.” You requested and he smiled.
“I know, baby. I will be patient with you and I will do everything I can to prove to you that I will never do anything to make you doubt choosing me again.” He said and kissed you slowly. You smiled into the kiss and let him pull you closer to him again and that’s how you fell asleep, nestled close together.
….. ONE MONTH LATER ….
In this short amount of time things had drastically shifted between you and Harry. You’d started to go on a date a week, doing thoughtful things for each other, sharing your feelings as they arose, communicated openly…he’d matured a lot in your time apart and helped you overcome your fears faster than you anticipated. You were so proud of him and it was spilling over into every moment. Like now, you were filled with a surge of love as you wandered into the kitchen to see him pulling out your favorite salad dressing from the fridge.
“Hiya, baby. What’re you up to?” You asked.
“Just making us your favorite salad for a light lunch.” He said.
“Wow, lunch already?” you asked and he smiled as you went over to him and hugged him from the back as you peeked over to his hands, eager to direct him on how much dressing he needed to add.
“Yeah, love!” He chuckled, “We had breakfast at 8! It’s already past 2pm.” He informed you and that surprised you. But you’d been so sucked into your work that it was very possible that you forgot to even feel hungry.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” You explained and he frowned a bit.
“Baby, have you been feeling alright? It’s not just today, I’ve noticed that you haven’t had much of an appetite at all lately.” He pointed out and you frowned as you gave it some thought and realized that yeah, this was something you’d been feeling for at least two weeks. Maybe it was intense PMS? You hadn’t gotten your period since moving here, so you hoped it was just your body finally catching up with itself.
“You’re right…I mean, I have very visceral reactions to stress and big changes…I mean, my whole body and system have just been out of whack for a little but they’ll balance out again.” You assured him and he hummed.
“That’s true, it’s been hectic for you.” He said as he opened up the dressing bottle, “Honestly, I was thinking that-” he stopped as you gagged as the scent of the dressing wafting up towards you. You had to let him go and go hunch yourself over the sink as you felt the scent of the dressing just linger in your nose and mouth. “Baby…?” Harry came over and rubbed your back slowly, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah…” you grimaced, “But I think the dressing is bad. Didn’t you smell that? It was rank!” You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face and he frowned.
“I didn’t smell anything. You look a bit awful now though. You’re all pale.” He said feeling your forehead and you exhaled slowly to ward off the nausea that you suddenly felt making your head spin.
“I might throw up, the dressing smells so bad.” You explained and he frowned and turned to the counter and brought it up to his nose and it smelled just fine to him. He even checked the bottle for the usage date and it was still good. 
“This is fine…should I mix your salad with something else then?” He asked and you shook your head.
“I think I’m fine. I’ll just have some toast.” You said and he nodded. Eventually, you had to go back to your “office” and leave him hanging for lunch because you could not handle the look and scent of the salad, especially that dressing. By the time dinner rolled around you were still feeling a little off so you just had some veggies in a chicken broth and that was that.
*******************
You’d truly forgotten about your sensitive sense of smell until once again, you were assailed by an unbearable scent. Except this time it had happened at your friend, Poppy’s house. And this time you did actually get sick.
“God, I’m so sorry, P.” You apologized as you returned to her kitchen with embarrassment, “I swear its not your cooking, my nose has just been so sensitive lately and I get to grossed out by certain scents. I’m not sure what exactly yet though.” You explained to her.
“God, you sound like my sister when she got pregnant.” Poppy chuckled and you froze. That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Yeah, you’d missed your period for the last two months but literally everything impacted your period, your cycle was fickle, especially when you were under as much stress as you’d been. You weren’t surprised that it hadn’t come at all. Truly, this wasn’t new to you, especially when you were stressed out, regardless of whether or not you were on the pill (which you weren’t after moving back here, you’d run out the week before you came out). Then, you recalled that when you and Harry had sex the first time he hadn’t used a condom. Yeah, he’d pulled out but that was never a guarantee.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Poppy asked you with concern.
“I think I should probably take a test just to rule that out. I mean, it’s…very unlikely but I was a bit irresponsible a bit ago and just need some peace of mind.” You said.
“Okay, I have some in my bathroom, let me get you one.” She offered and you nodded so she hurried off to get it for you.
You were sure you were good, but you just needed to see it for yourself. There was absolutely no way you could be pregnant, you weren’t ready for that. Harry wasn’t ready for that. Like emotionally you guys were, but you had just rekindled your relationship, the last thing you needed was something this crazy to throw a wrench in things so quickly after you’d gotten back together.
“Alright, here you are, babe.” She said handing over the box as she came up to you again.
“Thanks.” You smiled nervously.
“W-would you mind if I did it here?” You asked her and she smiled and shook her head.
“Of course not.” She assured you and with that you were off to the bathroom again, sitting there, willing yourself to pee enough to saturate the stick and finally it came and you put the cap back on it and washed your hands before coming out. “I hate to be that person but what if you are pregnant?” She asked and you sighed.
“I have no idea…” you confessed through a nervous chuckle while you stared at the wall blankly, “I mean, H and I just…God, we’re just getting back into the groove of things. Throwing a baby into the mix at this time isn’t going to make anything easier. It’s just not what we need right now.” You explained to her.
“Yeah, I get that.” She chuckled, “Cam and I try and then we stop because of the same thing and like…ugh, it’s just a vicious cycle! And genuinely, if you have that many doubts it’s just that you’re not prepared for it, you know? That’s what I had to tell Cam after a few months.” She explained and you nodded in understanding. “I-if you are…what do you think Harry’d say?” She asked and you sighed.
“I have no fucking clue…” you admitted, “Obviously, before, we had said we wanted to have a family together. But again, that was before everything went to shit with us.” You sighed, “And like, we’re in such a good place right now…” you sighed, “Like I know he wouldn’t be a prick about it but we’re not quite ready for that yet.” You chuckled nervously and Poppy nodded in understanding.
“Well, don’t worry, you’ll see in a few minutes that everything is fine.” She smiled with encouragement. 
You decided to believe her that everything was going to be fine. You were already booked for a full body, deep tissue massage next week with Poppy when your timer went off. You turned off the timer and then brought the test up closer and your heart stopped beating and you stopped breathing for what felt like an eternity. Staring right back at you, clear as day, were two little pink lines.
“Th-that means I’m…right?” You asked showing Poppy and she bit her lip nervously and nodded.
“Are you okay?” She asked you with concern and you just exhaled slowly. You were completely taken by surprise. Then you started to get worried.
“I ummm…I think I need to get home.” You said to her, still in shock. You swallowed thickly as you tried to imagine how Harry would react to the news that he would be a father.
“Do you want me to drive you over?” She offered, since you had walked from Harry’s to hers. It was just a 20 minute walk, you guys lived quite close.
“No, no, P, it’s alright. I think walking will be good for me, I need to…I need…” you trailed off as your eyes started to well up with tears as you started to imagine the worst case scenario.
“Hey…Hey, hey, hey, c’mere.” She said pulling you into her arms as you started to cry, “It’s going to be alright, babe. H is not gonna be angry, you know that.” She assured you as she rubbed comforting circles into your back as you held her tight. “You have options, yeah? You know that he’ll have your back no matter what.” She said and you nodded, “Let me get you home, yeah?”
“Okay.” You whispered to your best friend and she gave you one more squeeze before letting you go.
  Once you got to your place she encouraged you to have a shower and that she’d get some tea going for you. You texted Harry that you needed him to come home as soon as possible, you didn’t want this solely on your chest for another minute. You took your time and when Harry started pulling into your driveway Poppy popped in and let you know before shouting a goodbye to you. You sighed and relished in the warm water for just another moment before turning off the water. You were soon reaching for your robe and slipping into it. You padded over to the mirror to wash your face and you bit your lip before untying the robe and looking over your body. You looked the same, you saw no evidence of a baby.
“Baby?” You heard Harry calling from downstairs. Soon, his footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and you quickly tied your robe up and got to lathering your face wash in your hands.
“In the bathroom!” You called back before rubbing it into your skin. He rushed into the bathroom and looked more than relieved to see you intact.
“Are you alright?” He asked and you sighed and quickly bent over to rinse your face. You then dabbed it dry as you reached for your toner.
“I think so…” you responded after a little bit, “I don’t know.” You sighed as you grabbed your moisturizer.
“Well what’s going on? Hmmm?” He asked you as he came over and kissed your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middled and pulled you in closer and suddenly you had to throw up again. You gasped and wriggled out of his hold and turned around to face him. Your eyes started welling up with tears again and you were just building up the courage to say it. “Baby, you’re worrying me.” He said softly and you swallowed thickly.
“Ummm…I…I’m pregnant.” You said and his jaw slightly dropped. He let out a small and nervous laugh before he just pulled you back into his arms without a single word. You hugged him back and just held each other for a little bit.
“What do you want to do?” He finally asked you and you shook your head.
“I have no fucking clue…” you said and he let you go and hoisted you up onto the counter. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he held your thighs, “I mean, what do you think?” You asked and he sighed.
“I don’t fucking know…I mean, that’s gonna be our baby so I…like I’m inclined t-to give it a try. But at the same time I don’t know that our relationship is ready for something like this. I mean, I want this with you in a few years but we’re just getting started again.”
“I know…I don’t even know how this…like you pulled out.”
“I know, but it’s not always a guaranteed thing.” He said and you sighed.
“I should’ve said something then…” you shook your head as you rubbed your forehead with one of your hands.
“Hey, there’s no point for any would’ve-should’ve-s,” he said, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure it out soon, okay?” You nodded, “Just take your time, baby. Whatever you decide, I have your back.” He assured you and you nodded. He grabbed your face and kissed your lips until you were smiling.
“Stoooop.” You giggled, “M’not in the mood.” You pouted through your smile and he smiled.
“I think you’re lying.” He hummed and you rolled your eyes. “Look, how about we get an appointment with the doctor and see how far along you are and maybe that’ll help us decide what we might want to do.” He said and you nodded.
“Yes, good thinking.” You smiled, “God, I was so scared to tell you.” You sighed and he tutted.
“What made you think to take a test?”
“I smelled something P was cooking and got sick.” You said, you felt tour cheeks growing hot in embarrassment. Harry chuckled and then furrowed his brows pensively. 
“Didn’t you almost get sick at the salad dressing a bit ago?” He recalled and you chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s true…” you remembered, “I mean, I know I haven’t gotten my period but-”
“How was that not a sign?!” He chuckled in disbelief and you proceeded to explain how your period often skipped when you were under a lot of stress so this wasn’t an odd thing for you. But he was sweet, he was calm, but you could see the cogs just turning at full speed in his mind. You hoped he wasn’t angry at you, but you couldn’t help but think that he was and that he would run again. “I’m not angry, you know?” He mumbled softly and you glanced into his eyes and smiled a bit, “I can see it in your eyes, you know?” He whispered.
“You sure?”
“I am, baby. But I am…excited too…I mean, I don’t want to dwell on it too much incase we decide not to proceed with this but…I am. I mean, you’re the only person I want to have a life with. No matter how it happens, it’s you that I want to have babies with and raise them with and just share that experience with. So if you did want to continue with the pregnancy that would be good with me too.” He hummed.
“Okay. Thank you for your opinion.” You whispered before kissing his lips and hugging him tight against. You kissed at his neck as you just nestled yourself in the crook of it. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He smiled.
…. TWO DAYS LATER ….
You currently found your self peeing into a cup at the doctor’s office. You knew you were pregnant, but the doctor wanted to verify before they did an ultrasound to see where you were at. Once you finished you closed up the little jar and left it not he shelf as instructed. You washed your hands and then scurried across the hall and back into your room to see Harry intently reading the poster on the wall abut pregnancy.
“You know you get super horny during the second trimester.” He said in amusement, “As if you needed any more of that while pregnant…greedy.” He mumbled with a grin and you chuckled.
“You’re dumb.” You said as you went back over to the bench and sat again. You dangled your feet back and forth for a bit before Harry came over.
“What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that…this is fucking insane.” You chuckled.
“In a good way?”
“Yeah…bad too.” You hummed and he nodded and leaned in to kiss your cheek.
“It’s going to be just fine, baby.” He assured you right as the doctor knocked at the door. “Come in!” Harry called and soon the woman was coming in.
“Hello, Y/N!” Dr. Sallow greeted you sweetly, “Glad you’re back!” She said with glee and you smiled.
“Thank you.” You replied, “And ummm, this is Harry, my…partner.” You said and she turned to him and smiled.
“Harry, wonderful to meet you.” She smiled and extended her hand and they shook them quickly before she walked over to the screen. “So, you’re here because you are pregnant.” She said and you nodded, “I can confirm that.” She smiled and Harry squeezed your knee when you inhaled sharply. It sort of felt official now. “So we can definitely do an ultrasound if you’d like, the room is available. Or did you have other questions?” she asked.
“Definitely an ultrasound. Want to know how far along I am and that sort of thing.”
“I’d assume fairly early if you’re just noticing any symptoms, so don’t be too disappointed if we don’t see much of anything just yet.” She forewarned and you both nodded. “Alright, I’m gonna have nurse Debbie set up the room and then she’ll escort you over and we’ll get a look at you.”
“Thank you.” You smiled and soon she excused herself before fluttering off to her next patient. You only waited a couple of minutes before nurse Debbie came to escort you to the ultrasound room and got you all set up. Harry was practically bouncing beside you with anxiety as he waited. 
“Let me get the doctor.” Debbie said and hurried out. You glanced over to Harry.
“Hey, hold my hand.” You said and he dragged a chair over and interlocked your fingers. “I’m so excited to see.” You whispered and he grinned wide.
“Me too.” He confessed and you chuckled. “Maybe we…think a bit more about keeping it…” he suggested and you smiled a bit.
“Yeah? You mean it?” You asked softly and he nodded.
“I do, baby.” He smiled. 
A few moments later Dr. Sallow was announcing herself again before coming in. She explained the procedure and then got the gel on you before grabbing the camera and gliding it over your tummy, looking for the best spot.
“Oh…there we are.” she hummed and Harry immediately shot upon seeing the image projected on the screen.
“Oh my god…” he whispered as he squeezed your hand tight and you smiled up at him quickly before you both glanced back over to the screen.
“So that there is the head and the arms and legs…” she pointed out and shifted the angle, “Do you want to know the sex?” She asked as she turned to you and you chuckled.
“That’s…ummm, isn’t it a bit early to know that?” You asked her and she shook her head.
“Not at all, we can tell as early as 10 week if the position is right.” She explained and you’re heart stopped.
“And I’m already 10 weeks along?” You asked shakily as the realization of what this meant started to settle in. You felt Harry starting to pull his hand away from yours.
“Oh no, you’re more like 14 weeks, dear.” She said and that’s when Harry completely pulled away from you and you felt the air completely leave your lungs. You turned to him and he just clenched his jaw as he ran his fingers through the top of his hair. “So do you want to know?” She asked and you were so frozen that you nodded quickly as your eyes teared up. “It’s a girl.” She said with a smiled and you just nodded.
“That’s…that’s so great.” You whispered and then brought a hand up over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound as started to cry. Dr. Sallow turned to you quickly with concern and then you felt Harry’s hand grab yours again. You turned towards him and saw he was crying too. “I’m sorry.” You whispered and he shook his head.
“We’ll talk about it.” He said to you softly and you nodded.
“Is everything alright?” Dr. Sallow asked and you sniffled.
“Sorry, yes. I just didn’t mean to say that.” You explained and she apologized but you assured her it was fine. 
You just wanted to get out of there… you were mortified. This wasn’t Harry’s baby and now you really had no idea what to do. You always used condoms with Steven, but now that you knew he was psycho, you had no doubt that he was capable of sabotaging you like this. More than anything you were so hurt and angry that he had taken this from you and Harry. For a second you almost turned and asked for an appointment for an abortion but you glanced at the screen and you were flooded with guilt for even thinking that.
“Ummm, I’d like to leave.” You said as you started to sit up and Dr. Sallow was quick to clean you off. Harry helped you off of the reclining seat and you were back on the road not even ten minutes later. 
You were just silent the whole way home, you felt like shit. You felt awful for getting Harry all excited only to know that this was not his child you were carrying. You were so confused right now, you almost wanted to pinch yourself and hope you woke up. You could feel Harry continuously glancing over at you but you couldn’t look at him. There was no way you could look at him after this. It was over between you two…there was no way you could ask him to stay with you after this. It wouldn’t be fair to him. When you got to the house you made it to the stairwell and plopped down as you started to sob violently.
You moved to the side when you saw Harry coming over, assuming he was just going to go up to the bedroom. But then he crouched down and sat a step above you and pulled you into him by the shoulders.
“It’s o-”
“Don’t say it’s okay.” You cut him off, “This is not okay.” You whispered sadly. “I hate Steven.” You seethed and he swallowed thickly as you started to sob and he pulled you closer and kissed the side of your head.
“I love you, okay? This doesn’t change that for me.” He said to you and you shook your head.
“I would never ask you or expect to stay. It’s not fair to you, Harry…” you said sadly, “I was about to tell Dr. Sallow that I wanted to abort but then I saw the screen again and I just…I don’t think I can do it. That’s like…a part of me too and I just…I don’t think I can go through with it.” You said again, sputtering on your tears. “If that means that we’re over, I get it. I totally understand it.” You sniffled.
Harry frowned deeply as he heard you say this. His heart was completely torn right now. He thought you were reacting this way because you were going to terminate the pregnancy upon finding out that it wasn’t your baby together. But hearing you say that you wouldn’t be able to do that, it made him so angry and so hurt. Despite his own feelings about this, he fully understood why changed your mind. After seeing the tiny little thing tucked inside of you his heart was in shambles too. He was fully ready to advocate for you guys keeping it, but hearing how far along you were, it completely shattered his heart. He felt physically ill as the moment replayed in his brain. You’d both slept with other people during your time apart, so he wasn’t angry at that, it was more that it was Steven’s. A man who had hurt you and disrespected you and that scared you. It made the hate he felt for him grow even more intense than it already was. He was livid, he could kill him for taking this from you two. Harry had to decide how he would proceed from here. You were fully prepared to leave him again in order to keep this baby and the thought of it put so much sorrow in his heart. He didn’t want to lose you.
The idea of leaving you and letting you do this all on your own made his sad. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved to have a good pregnancy, one that came with a supportive partner, someone to share the experience with. He wanted to be the person to be there for you but right now the thought of that little thing growing inside of you made his blood boil with hatred. He couldn’t think clearly in the slightest. 
“I ummm…I love you so much, baby. I just, I think I need some time t-to process this and just think about it all.” He said to you and you nodded. “I love you though. You know that right?” He asked and you nodded again as he kissed the side of your head.
“Love you too.” You whispered and he hummed. “Should I go for a couple of days?” You asked quietly.
“No, baby.” He said quietly, “You stay here and rest up.” He hummed lowly, “I think I’m gonna go up north and just spend a few days with my mum, clear my head, if that’s alright?” He asked. You wanted to say no, the last thing you wanted right now was to be all alone with this information. But you had no choice but to agree, you had just put him in the most impossible position and he deserved to have the space to think about it as calmly and comfortably as possible.
“Yeah, sure.” You whispered.
“Can I tell my mum?” He asked and you sighed.
“Why the fuck not…” You chuckled through your tears and he pouted.
“Hey, look at me.” He insisted, “I won’t if you don’t want me to, baby. This is about you, about your body. If you want me to keep it to myself I will.” He assured.
“Sorry. I’m just afraid that it’ll change how she feels about me.” You explained nervously. You’d had a wonderful relationship with Anne. You missed her wisdom and kindness and friendship during your time apart from Harry and hearing that another man had impregnated you, her son’s girlfriend, well you’d understand if it upset her. 
“No…I mean, things happen. Accidents happen.” He said and you shook your head.
“Baby, I-I don’t think this was accidental because we used a condom every single time. I’m certain of it!” You wept, “Like I’m not stupid, or careless like that.” You assured.
“You think he ruined the condoms?” He asked and you sighed as you recalled all of the overtly possessive things Steven had been saying to you during sex the last month or so that you had been together. Things about making you his forever, about giving him babies one day, making you a mom…you thought he was just introducing some of his preferences in bed with that kind of talk, but maybe it was more than that. 
“It’s very possible.” You said softly.
“Jesus…” he shook his head, “How fucked up was this guy?” He asked you and you shrugged.
“I never saw that side of him before all of this.” You said and Harry sighed and nodded. After a moment of silence he cleared his throat.
“Ummm…I’m just gonna pack and head out soon, want to avoid that rush hour traffic near Birmingham.” He said and you nodded. 
He stood up and then offered to help you stand as well before you guys went up to the room. You sat on the bed as you watched him pack a couple days worth of clothes. You wanted to ask him to stay, but you couldn’t be that selfish. This was the least you could do for him after that a-bomb was just dropped on him. Not to mention the a-bomb you’d just dumped on him too. When he finished packing up his bag he went over and kissed you quickly.
“I’m not running away from you, okay? I just need to clear my head.” He reassured you, his words were mumbled against your forehead before he kissed you there, “I love you so much.” He whispered before kissing your lips.
“Love you.” You mumbled, “Text when you get there, yeah?”
“I will, baby.” He assured.
“Be safe.”
“Always.” He hummed before he bid you farewell once more before he left. 
Once you heard him pull out of the driveway you just curled up on your side and started to cry. This couldn’t be real…there was no way this could be real. You felt completely defeated. The only thing you could think that made you happy was that you never wanted Steven to know about this, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You had no idea how that would go down with your child in the future, but right now you wanted him not to know a single thing about you ever again. After coming to that conclusion you ended up calling your mom and telling her everything that happened. You talked and cried for nearly an hour before she had to go, but not without promising she’d call again and chat the next day in order to keep you some company, even from afar. 
After that you decided to draw yourself a warm and relaxing bath, that always made you feel so calm. So you started out on that, letting your bath bomb melt in the warm water as you made yourself a nice cup of tea, your last caffeinated one for the foreseeable future, and then got inside.
*****************
Harry had been driving up the M1 motorway for a bit before he quickly texted his mum his ETA. This caused her to call him right away and ask what this surprise visit was about, but he couldn’t speak when he answered her call. He just sobbed, he sobbed for nearly 15 minutes before he shared what had happened that morning at the doctor’s office. He explained everything he was feeling, even the bad things he was thinking, but the one thing that kept coming up was how much he loved you.
“I love her so much but I just don’t think I could get past the fact that, that prick is the baby’s dad…I cannot for the life of me sit with that information and not become enraged by it.” He said, it pained him to spare Steven a thought.
“D-do you feel angry at Y/N for being with him?” She asked and he frowned.
“No/ It’s not like I didn’t see other people but I hate that she thinks that I couldn’t be with her after this. Like, I think about letting her go, like she’s saying, and it absolutely guts me.” He explained. “And like…I feel bad that it crossed my mind at some point, but not for the reasons you might think, it’s just that I don’t know i-if I am even prepared to take that role on.” He sniffled.
“No one ever is, even when it’s meticulously planned, H.” She reasoned and he sighed,
“Are you concerned about him wanting to come back into her life?” She asked and he nodded.
“Yeah…a bit.” He admitted, “I mean, I don’t think he’s the type to take any accountability for his actions but if he finds out about it he’s so arrogant that he might want to just to make her uncomfortable. I mean, Y/N thinks it may have been deliberate because she said she always made sure t-to use protection. I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that, the man was completely mad.” He shared and his mum hummed in understanding.
“Well sweetheart, it doesn’t sound to me like you’re all that conflicted. It sounds to me like you don’t want to end things with her.”
“Of course not! But what if I…what I can’t love that baby as much since I now know this?” He asked.
“I-is that what’s holding you back?” She asked and he hummed on confirmation. He felt like a complete prick saying that but he was legitimately concerned about this. What if you went on to have your own kids together and it just changed something in him? What if he was open to being with you now but then changed his mind? What if he saw Steven every time he saw that baby and only felt anger instead of love? The chances of something like this happening were extremely low, practically non-existent, but not 0%. And in the end he would hurt you and that baby even more if he walked out because one of these things happened.
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you will love her just fine, H. You know why?” She asked and he hummed, “Because out of everyone in the world you know the impact that one incredible and dedicated man can have on a child.” She said and he sniffled, “You’ve seen for yourself that a biological connection is not needed to give someone unconditional love and support. You’re lucky, you got that from two fathers.” She said and he smiled.
“Yeah.” He whispered.
“I’m not saying that it won’t be scary and difficult at times t-to do this, but it can also be extremely beautiful and rewarding. You’re both such wonderful people that if you decided to stay and do this together you could impact that child’s life for the better, just like yours was.” 
“Right…” he said softly
“And well, honestly sweetheart, these concerns you have, they’re things you need to figure out with Y/N. She will listen to you, H. I mean, if you’re feeling this conflicted about things I can’t image how she must be feeling now.” she said with sympathy and when he saw himself nearing Birmingham he felt awful. It got as bad as him feeling sick to his stomach as he pictured your fearful and distraught face back in the bedroom. He’d done it again, he’d left you hanging at a time when you needed his love and support the most. He loved you so much, he could not believe he’d left you alone in that state. And in two seconds he started to signal to get off of the motorway.
“Mum, I ummm…I need to go back and be with, Y/N.” He decided, “I shouldn’t have left here there by herself after everything she had to hear today…I’d be surprised if she was still there after I just walked out…fuck!” He groaned in frustration.
“H, she loves you so much.”
“I love her too…why do I keep doing the wrong thing and hurting her?” He cried now as he got off at the next exit. He was waiting for the traffic to clear before he could make his turn to turn around.
“I think it kind of scares you, how much you love her. And I think in a way you might feel like you could lose her, so you pull back regardless of how that might make her feel. It’s self preservation.” She explained and he swallowed thickly. Hearing this helped him mentally decide that he wasn’t going to run any more, after everything he’d done you’d given him another chance regardless of the possibility of him hurting you again. This was his chance to show you that his love for you was bigger than everything else. “Don’t be afraid to open your heart, sweetheart.” She added and he hummed.
“Alright, thank you for listening. I’m just gonna call Dr. A and ummm…hopefully sort some mental things out before I get back to Y/N.” He said.
“Okay, bub. Be safe, please let me know when you’re home safe. I love you.”
“Love you.” He mumbled before he hung up and got back onto the motorway but heading back towards the South. He wasn’t going to do the same thing again and leave all alone to guess just how much he loved you, not this time. He was going to be there for you and support you and love you both.
*****************
It was a bit odd to you when you heard the large gate to Harry’s house opening up. But then you recalled that sometimes his PA would do errands that required him to come to the house. So you just got out of the tub quickly and rinsed your body off in the shower before getting into your robe in case he came upstairs for any reason. You were just getting one of Harry’s hoodies when you heard his voice.
“Baby? Are you still here?” He called out as you heard the front door shut heavily against the frame. You hurried into the yoga pants you’d grabbed and rushed out to see him coming up the stairs. 
“You came back.” You sighed in relief as he hurried up and he just pulled you right into his arms and you started to cry.
“I’m so sorry. I should never have left you like this, baby.” He sniffled as he kissed your head over and over again. “I love you so much. I love you so fucking much.” He assured you. “I’m not leaving you alone with this, baby.” He said to you and you pulled back a bit to look at him.
“What do you…mean by that?”
“It means that we’re doing this together.” He said to you and you shook your head.
“I can’t…I couldn’t do that to you.” You said to him and he shook his head.
“You’re not doing anything to me, baby. If you’re keeping this baby I am choosing to do this with you. I know it’s going to be hard but I will be there for you every step of the way and love our little babygirl with everything I am. I love you far too much to not see this through with you.” He said and you just broke down and hugged him tight.
You had no words, there was just joy. You knew this would be hard and challenging and even sad at times, but he’d come back to you and he wanted you to stay with him.
“I love you so much, H.” You finally whispered before kissing his lips.
“You’re everything to me, baby. We’re gonna get through this.” He smiled and you smiled.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He smiled, “It was actually my mum who reminded me that biology had nothing to do with being a great father, so…she doesn’t hate you.” He said and you chuckled through your tears.
“Good, that would’ve definitely been the worst outcome.” You said jokingly and he smiled. “And look, I know that there are a lot of logistics and other things to discuss and I’m still sorting through that mentally, s-so if you can just be a little patient with me while I…get that together in my head I would really appreciate that. I’m still processing that there’s a little person forming in there and it’s kind of…freaky.” You said as you looked up into his eyes and he sputtered on a laugh. You frowned at his reaction, “What?”
“I thought you were going to say it was magical or amazing, not freaky.” He giggled and you did as well. 
“Oh…well, I…I don’t feel…happy about it yet.” You confessed to him and this brought on a fresh wave of tears, “I feel like shit about that. Like I’m gonna be a mom, I should be happy, not freaked out, shouldn’t I?” You asked him.
“Not necessarily. You can feel however you want about it, baby.” He assured you, “Especially in this situation, it’s come as a surprise to you. I don’t judge you at all for not feeling happy about this yet, baby.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it.” He promised before pecking your lips again quickly.
“Thank you.” You whispered and he nodded and smile at you.
“Wanna do something to take your mind off of things for a bit?” He asked.
“Like what?”
“We can…sort through the pantry and fridge and see what foods you’ll have an aversion to?” He offered and you smiled and shook your head at his bizarre, yet completely productive suggestion. “I see you trying to hold back your smile.” He teased and you finally gave in.
“That’s the wildest but most genius thing you’ve ever suggested.” You giggled.
“I know. Imagine how smart our kid’s gonna be?! We’ve got this in the bag.” He said confidently.
“You think so?” You asked and he nodded.
“With you as her mum, I know so.” He smiled.
…. 1 YEAR LATER ….
You woke up feeling completely refreshed and renewed. It was absolutely quiet in the house and it was strange to wake up in silence. When you rolled over and looked at your phone you saw it was nearly 10am and shot out of bed. You had no idea how you’d slept in that much! The baby needed to be fed and changed! You hurried over to the nursery already thinking up an apology in your head for Ellie. But when you made it into the nursery it was empty. Harry had some work to do for Pleasing today so you knew he’d be out. Maybe he called someone to come look after the baby? When you passed by his home studio on the way to the kitchen you heard his voice along with others, so you knocked on the door.
“Come in!” He called quickly and you peeked inside and immediately smiled when you saw Harry spin around in the chair with Elara sitting on his lap, she was literally just chilling there while she drooled all over one of the newer nail polishes Pleasing would release soon. He smiled at you over the sounds of whoever was speaking right now. “Hey guys, are we good for today or is there anything else we needed to go over?” He asked with a smile as you waved from the background.
“We’re all good!” You heard and then heard the multiple voices bidding farewell to you and baby Elara before he hung up.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You said to him as you walked into the room to grab her from him.
“It’s alright, baby, we were just chatting a bit.” He assured you, “Weren’t we?” He asked the baby who just ignored him to keep attempting to bite the bottle in her hands before he started to rub at her back.
“I know you had work, you should’ve woken me up.” You said as you kissed his head.
“No way.” He chuckled, “You know, you slept through two whole alarms, you clearly needed the rest. I thought you were dead for second there.” He said with grin and you tutted.
“Don’t even say that.” You scolded.
“You’re right, sorry. Bad joke.” He corrected himself, “But really, my love, I don’t mind doing these launch plan meetings online, it’s none of the fun stuff so.” He shrugged and you smiled, “Besides when I have Ellie on camera everyone is so obsessed with her little smile that they’re so agreeable, so it’s a win-win.” He chuckled and you smirked.
“God forbid the paps see her and exploit her for money, but her own father is exploiting her cuteness for sway in the board room.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.
“Hey, she likes hearing all the commotion too.” He added and you smiled before kissing the top of her head and she sighed and laid over his chest making you both coo. “She finally slept through the night. Sorry you missed it.” He said softly and you chuckled.
“I’m sorry you’re so used to waking up to her crying that you noticed!” You giggled as you raked your fingers through his curls easily and he hummed.
“I don’t mind it. Reminds me that this little cutie is finally here.” He said and you smiled at how sweet he was with her.
“I can’t believe she’ll be six whole months tomorrow.” You said in disbelief.
“I know…S’your half birthday, bub.” He said to her and she just blinked tiredly, "She’s perfect though, isn’t she? Your little twin.” He hummed with pride as he looked down at her and then at you again. You nodded and watched him with her for a few moments.
Harry had nothing but love for baby Elara. He adored her completely. He almost felt silly for being so worried that he wouldn’t bond with her as genuinely as if she were his biological daughter. Once he saw you starting to show and you guys started shopping for the nursery, and picking out baby names, every ounce of doubt he had melted away. That was his daughter in every sense of the word. He had so much love for the both of you that he felt like his heart would burst sometimes.
“I love you so much.” You said to him and he glanced up at you.
“More than Ellie?” He smirked and you chuckled.
“The same, I think.” You hummed and he looked surprised.
“Oh wow, I was expecting a firm no.” He laughed.
“Oh my god…I love you both. It’s a bit different for sure but I somehow get it all to fit in my heart.” You said and he smiled as he stood up.
“Look at her, she’s about to pass out again.” He said as he looked down at the baby.
“I think we should get her back in the crib and have a cuddle. We can watch that show you’ve been pestering me about.” He suggested
“Love is Blind?” You gasped and he nodded. 
Soon enough you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, as you did every morning, all while Harry got Ellie down. But he soon joined you in bed as you waited for him to return. He climbed into the bed beside you and like a magnet, you immediately scooted right up against him and kissed him gently, it caught him by surprise.
“Thank you for letting me sleep in, baby. That was exquisite.” You confessed and he smiled and pecked your lips again.
“Of course, baby. Anytime.” He smiled. “I do have a question for you though…when are we going to have another baby?” He asked you and you giggled.
“Ummm, ask me in a year!” You laughed.
“A year?” He scoffed.
“Hey, it’s hard work!” You added and he smiled.
“Yeah, but it’s so worth it, isn’t it?” He asked with a smile and you sighed happily at his response.
“Yeah…” you hummed, “It’s all worth it.” You smiled.
“Our little family makes me so happy, I just want one more.” He said and you glanced into his eyes.
“Just one more.” You agreed and he chuckled.
“Yeah, just one.” He assured you, “So in a year I’ll ask again, okay?”
“Okay.” You sniggered and kissed him quickly again before you got the show going.
You were explaining a little bit about why you were suddenly so interested in this show without trying to give away too much of what you knew had gone down, thanks to your friends and social media. He easily got sucked into the narrative and when you both started commenting as you watched on you just got so happy that you could share something so simple together and then also something as huge and serious as a baby. It made your tummy flutter and swirl with love for him and you then realized that maybe it would be less than a year before you’d be trying for another baby and you were perfectly alright with that.
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subject to change 1.1 (final)
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w/c: 6.3k summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late? part one
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a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!
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cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!
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Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.
He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.
Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.
You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.
It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.
Oh, a new post.
You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.
Interesting.
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Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.
You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 
You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 
You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.
“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.
Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.
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Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 
The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”
About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 
“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.
“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 
Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.
“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 
“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.
“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”
He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”
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Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.
“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.
“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.
“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.
“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 
You were born at night, but not last night.
“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 
“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.
“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”
“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”
“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”
“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.
“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.
“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 
“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.
“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.
“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.
“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 
“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.
“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 
“P-please, t-touch me.”
“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.
“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.
Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.
“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.
You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.
“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.
“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”
“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.
He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.
“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.
“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 
“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 
“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 
You nod. 
“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.
You smile. 
Big.
“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.
“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 
You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.
“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”
“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.
“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 
He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.
“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.
“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.
“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 
You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 
“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.
“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.
“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.
“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 
“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.
“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.
“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 
“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 
“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 
“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.
“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.
“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.
“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.
“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.
“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 
“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”
Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 
“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots. 
“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.
“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 
“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.
“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.
“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 
“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 
“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.
“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 
But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 
He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 
“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”
“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”
“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 
“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.
“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.
“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No���. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 
“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 
“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.
“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.
“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”
“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 
Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.
“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”
“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.
“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.
“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.
“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?” 
“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”
“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”
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The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.
He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.
“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.
“If I believe in love.”
“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.
“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 
There is none.
“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.
“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.
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c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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justlemmeadoreyou · 2 days
Text
Unrequited
(the second part to unfulfilled)
(i still don't think y'all will like this, but 🥺🥺)
Summary: Harry invites you to a party, and something goes wrong. He blames himself for it, but then something unexpected happens.
Words: 2.7k
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, intoxicants, kissing, fluff.
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“Hey, you wanna come to the party tonight?” Harry asked you, smiling.
You looked around, not believing that he was asking you, of all people. He saw you looking around, and said, “What?”
“You’re asking me?” you answered.
“Yeah.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. You wanna come or not?”
You stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to burst out into laughter, and tell you that he was joking, it was all a silly prank. But, he didn’t.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, y/n. seriously. I'm asking you to come to a party with me tonight.”
“But-but no one ever asks me that. Like, ever.”
“Why?”
“I tell them not to…” you pout, and he presses his lips together.
"Come on, why not give it a shot?" Harry urged. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the idea of attending a party with Harry, someone who was way more confident and popular, and…extroverted, was exhilarating. But on the other hand, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place, like a puzzle piece that just didn't fit in.
"I...I don't know," you stammered, clutching onto the strap of your bag tightly. "I don't belong there?"
Harry's expression softened, and he stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. You'll fit right in, I promise. And besides, I'll be there with you the whole time."
His words were comforting, and you found yourself slowly nodding in agreement. Maybe this was an opportunity to step out of your comfort zone, to experience something new.
"Okay," you finally replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll go."
Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Great! You won't regret it, I promise."
As the evening approached, you found yourself growing increasingly nervous. You fussed over your outfit, second-guessing every choice you made. But despite your apprehension, you couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation building in your stomach. You hadn’t felt that in a while.
When Harry arrived to pick you up, you were greeted with a warm smile that instantly eased your nerves. As you made your way to the party together, he chatted animatedly, sharing stories and jokes that made you laugh until your sides hurt. He was fun to be with, and you both got along really well.
Upon reaching the bustling venue, the sound of music and laughter filled the air. Harry guided you through the crowd, introducing you to his friends with an easy charm that made you feel surprisingly at ease.
But as the night progressed, you found yourself retreating into the background, feeling increasingly self-conscious amidst the sea of confident faces. Everyone danced and drank with confidence, feeling lively and free. But you felt like you were trapped, and you envied every person who enjoyed themselves without a care in the world, and didn’t feel guilty afterwards. You clutched onto a plastic cup of beer, taking small sips and trying to stay there. You had no idea how you wound up in this corner, or where Harry went. He was supposed to be by your side the whole night, so where was he?
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Harry began to search for you, his concern growing with each passing minute. He navigated through the throngs of people, his eyes scanning the room until he stumbled upon a dimly lit alcove hidden from view.
There, sitting hunched over with a vacant expression, was you.
Harry's heart clenched at the sight, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Without a moment's hesitation, he made his way towards you, his footsteps audible as he got closer.
"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice laced with worry. "Are you okay?"
You looked up, your eyes glazed and unfocused, a wave of relief washing over Harry at the sight of your familiar face. As he got closer, he saw the worry in your expression, and it made him even more concerned.
"What happened?" he asked gently, crouching down beside you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "Did someone do something to you?"
"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the thumping music.
Harry glanced at you, concern etched across his features. "Are you okay, Y/N?"
You shook your head, your movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. "No, something's wrong. I need to leave."
Harry's brow furrowed with worry as he took in your disoriented state. "Okay, let's go," he said firmly, his hand reaching out to steady you.
But as you made your way towards the exit, Harry's suspicions were piqued. He noticed the way your steps faltered, the glassy look in your eyes, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. You weren’t yourself, and even if you didn’t drink often, it wouldn’t have been because of just a couple of beers.
"Wait," he said, his voice urgent. "Did you drink anything tonight?"
You frowned, trying to recall the events of the evening through the haze of confusion. "I...I don't remember," you admitted, your heart pounding with fear. Everything felt so big and loud, and you just wanted to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there.
Harry's expression darkened, anger flaring within him as he surveyed the chaotic scene around you. "Damn it," he muttered, his grip tightening on your arm. 
"I bet someone spiked your drink."
Fear gripped your chest, and you held onto Harry's arm, grateful for him being there for you.
"What do we do?" you whispered, your voice trembling, and you sighed loudly..
"We get you out of here, now," Harry replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Hold onto me, Y/N. I've got you."
With Harry's arm wrapped protectively around your waist, you stumbled towards the exit, your heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. Each step felt like an eternity as you fought to keep your wits about you, your mind racing with a million thoughts and fears.
As you got out of the ridiculously overcrowded place, you felt better. Air rushed into your lungs, fresh air–that hadn’t come out of somebody else’s mouth. He guided you to his car, and assured you he was sober.
“Promise?” you asked, looking up at him with doe, glassy eyes. He nodded, gripping your chin and mumbling, “promise”
Once inside, he wasted no time in starting the engine, his hands gripping the steering wheel  "Hang on, Y/N," he said firmly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I'll get you home safe, I promise."
Harry drove through the quiet streets, the weight of the situation pressed heavily on his shoulders. He stole glances at you through the mirror,, his heart sinking at the sight of your slumped form in the passenger seat, your eyes glazed with intoxication.
As the car rolled to a stop outside your dormitory, Harry turned to you, concerned. "We're here, Y/N," he said gently. 
You nodded weakly, your movements slow and unsteady as you struggled to gather your bearings. With Harry's help, you stumbled out of the car and towards the entrance of the building, your steps faltering with each passing moment.
As Harry guided you down the hallway towards your room, your steps wobbled with each movement, and you couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably at the slightest provocation.
"Hey, watch your step," Harry chuckled, trying to steady you as you stumbled over your own feet.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," you slurred, your words muffled by a fit of laughter. "I look like a drunk moron."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at your quip, shaking his head in amusement as he guided you towards your door. "Sure."
As Harry helped you into your room, you collapsed onto the bed with a dramatic flourish, your limbs splayed out in every direction as you let out a contented sigh.
"Ah, home sweet home," you declared, your voice tinged with merriment. "I think I might just live here forever."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle again, shaking his head in amusement as he watched you flop onto the mattress. "I think you've had enough excitement for one night, Y/N."
You pouted playfully, your bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "But the night is still young, Harry! We could have so much fun together."
Your demeanor had suddenly changed, from afraid and scared to carefree. The intoxicant that was added to your drink might be doing its work.
"I think we've had more than enough excitement for one night, let’s tuck you in" he replied, his tone teasing yet gentle.
As Harry tucked the blankets around you, you let out a contented sigh, your eyes drifting shut and becoming droopy.. "You're a good friend, Harry," you murmured, your words slurred with exhaustion. "The best."
Harry's heart swelled with affection at your words, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you drift off to sleep.
"Sleep tight, Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft with warmth.
As Harry finished tucking you into bed, he turned to leave, but before he could take a step, you reached out and grabbed his hand, your sudden touch sending a shiver through him.
"Harry," you whispered, your voice soft.
Harry turned back to face you, his heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in your gaze. "What is it, Y/N?"
Without warning, you pulled him towards you, your movements clumsy but filled with determination. Before Harry could react, you pressed your lips against his, the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated but filled with a raw intensity that took his breath away.
For a moment, Harry froze, his mind reeling with a whirlwind of emotions. He knew he should pull away, should put an end to this before things went too far. But as he felt the warmth of your lips against his, he couldn't deny the spark of desire that ignited within him, the longing that pulsed between them like a current of electricity. He had wanted this, maybe for far too long. But it was tucked away in a corner of his heart, and right now, it was exploding out like firecrackers.
But then, with a sudden surge of clarity, Harry pulled back, his hands gently but firmly pushing you away. "Y/N, we can't," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
You looked up at him, confusion in your eyes as you searched his for answers. "But why not?" you whispered, your voice filled with hurt.
Harry's heart ached at the pain in your gaze, but he knew he had to be honest with you, even if it hurt. "Because...because I can't do this to you, Y/N. You're not yourself right now, and I can't take advantage of that."
You stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in as realization dawned upon you. "I...I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to...I’m just–just stupid and–"
Harry reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender yet filled with sadness. "It's okay, Y/N. I know you didn't mean to. You’re really high and you should sleep"
You nodded once again, closing your eyes shut and pulling the blanket over you, suddenly feeling cold. He murmured good night, but you were already passed out.
He stood there for a while or two, watching as your mouth dropped open. Your face looked peaceful, and it gave reassurance to him. His heart was pounding in his chest since he found you at the party, and he kept blaming himself for all that happened.
But his heart was at ease now. You were safe, and sleeping beside him.
He couldn’t be happier
. . .
The next morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest, your mind clouded with confusion and regret. As you stumbled out of bed and got ready for class, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that you didn’t remember what happened last night.
Your steps were slow and hesitant as you made your way to the lecture hall, your heart pounding with anxiety. You were trying to replay all the moments of yesterday back and forth, but the last thing you remembered was drinking a beer and then going for another one, when you had seen 5 already filled cups kept in a tray. Without thinking, you went for that one, and you were now cursing yourself for it.
When you finally reached the classroom, you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone as you took your seat at the back of the room. You felt like a stranger in your own skin, the weight of guilt and shame bearing down on you.
As the minutes ticked by, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the lecture, your mind wandering back to the events of the party, precisely to those you didn’t remember. Harry was nowhere to be found, and you wondered if you had misbehaved towards him.
He must regret inviting you in the first place.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Harry entered the classroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, your face drawn and weary, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy you had exuded the night before.
"Hey, Y/N," Harry said softly, making his way towards you with a hopeful smile. "How are you feeling today?"
You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance, and forced a weak smile. "Hey, Harry. I'm...I'm okay, I guess."
Harry's smile faltered slightly at the hint of sadness in your voice, but he pushed aside his concerns, determined to lift your spirits. "That's good to hear. Listen, about last night..."
But before he could finish his sentence, the professor began the lecture, cutting off their conversation and leaving Harry feeling frustrated and disappointed. You let out a sigh of relief, because you didn’t have to hear about the horrible things you did last night, for an hour at least.
During class, Harry felt uneasy and unsure about where they stood. He kept looking at you, feeling worried when he saw you looking down.
As the lecture came to an end, Harry gathered his things and made his way towards you, 
"Y/N," he said softly again, "Can we talk for a minute?"
You looked up, nodding "Sure, Harry. What's up?"
Harry took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the right words. "I just wanted to say...about last night. You were perfect, Y/N. Nothing bad happened, okay?"
You frowned, confusion in your eyes as you tried to make sense of his words. "What do you mean, Harry? I don't remember much from last night."
Harry's heart sank at your admission, a pang of disappointment piercing through him like a knife. "It's...it's nothing, Y/N. Don't worry about it."
But despite his attempt to brush off the conversation, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling of sadness that lingered within him. He knew that he should be grateful that nothing bad had happened between you both, but deep down, he couldn't help but wish that you remembered the kiss you had shared, and the way you made his heart beat faster. He wished you remembered him driving you home, and then being silly around him.
“That’s a huge relief! Oof” 
You said after a while, trusting him on that. He wouldn’t lie to you, you were sure of that.
“Yeah” he replied, forcing a smile, because he was sad.
“Guess I’ll see you later?” you asked, and he nodded.
You collected your materials and stuffed them back into your bag. Checking your schedule, you made your way to your next class, leaving Harry and his thoughts alone.
"But I love you more than words can say,
I can't count the reasons I should stay,
One by one they all just fade away,
But I love you more than words can say."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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186 notes · View notes
cupidsdolll · 1 day
Text
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word count: 1.1k
summary: harry’s angry at the world, himself included and he makes it everyone’s problem but there might be a light coming in the middle of his storm
notes: this is part two of this fic so it is still considered a dark fic. it contains mentions of drinking to cope with his grief, violence inflicted onto others and a brief scene of it as well.
masterlist
- - - -
To say that Harry’s been miserable lately would be a huge understatement. He’s been absolutely insufferable in the past two weeks. He spends all day drinking and holed up inside his office, he’s grumpy and snappy with everybody and he’s even more mean whenever he has to take care of someone. It’s his release in a way, the one safe space he can let out his anger at the world, at the Gallegos for taking away his love, at himself for not doing more.
“Goddamn! Fuck!” He screams in the confines of his office. He down a shot of whiskey and quickly pours himself another one, the burn going down his throat is welcoming — encouraged is the better word for it. His chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at the picture of her. One he had taken a couple of months into knowing each other, a bright smile on her lips and her hair and dress flowing in the wind behind her as they walked through a park. She had wanted a picnic and he was a sucker for her smile, so of course he’d do it for her. It was all worth it in the end, to see the smile plastered on her face and the excitement in her eyes
He misses her terribly, the past week has been the hardest week ever and he doesn’t know if it’ll get any better. He allows the tears to fall freely, to stain his cheeks and the mahogany oak of his desk. It seems as if his tears are never ending, just becoming a permanent addition to his appearance. He can’t bring himself to care, too busy wallowing in his guilt and pain. He guesses he deserves it in a way, none of this would’ve happened if he’d been paying more attention, if they would’ve stayed home or better yet if he’d never given her his number.
He huffs sadly as he wipes his tears away the best he can, he can’t do anything about the stains left on his cheeks. He takes another shot of whiskey and heads towards his office door, he figures now is as good of a time as any, and really he just can’t wait to let out some tension. He walks out the room and down the hall, ignoring the eyes of the few employees gathered around the desk before rolling his eyes as they start whispering.
“Don’t you all have a fucking job to do? This isn’t Barbie’s show where we all sit around and look pretty.” He huffs before mumbling under his breath, watching them with crossed arms as they scramble to find something to do.
He continues walking then, taking deep breaths to try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He can’t look weak in front of them. He walks past the framed pictures on the wall, past the rooms where clicking and the occasional scream filters through the closed doors until he gets to the last door in the hall. The dark wooden door detailed with swirls and large black handles is heavy as he pushes it open, but he enjoys the pain. His own form of punishment he guesses.
The room is filled with different tools and weapons, lights scattered all over the ceiling but still keeps the room dark enough. He prefers this environment to feel more like a horror movie than just a simple killing room, and wants it to feel eerie and depressing. He wants the room to inflict absolute sheer terror and feet into anyone who just so happens to end up strapped to the chair. His dress shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing around the room and he watches happily as the man strapped to the chair begins to squirm and try to break free. It’s no use though, he’s mastered the best knot to tie around the body and the chair tightly to keep them from moving but also to inflict pain when they try to escape.
“Well, well, well. Not happy to see me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet to be used in such a setting. The man shakes his head violently as he tries rocking the chair side to side, his screams are muffled behind the tape. Harry simply chuckles, he’s always amused at their useless attempts.
“Now, I just have a couple of questions for you. I just need some information and I believe you should be able to help with this.” He says as he leans down so his face is right in front of the man with tears filling his eyes. The man shakes his head and Harry grabs a handful of his hair, firmly holding him in place.
“So you don’t want to leave? I was gonna let you leave if you answer… but since you don’t think that’s fair.. you’ll be stuck here.” He says and he watches as more tears fall from the man’s eyes and Harry just laughs, everyone wants to be all big and bad until they have to confront their behaviors. They think that no one will be able to catch them, they always underestimate his dedication. He’ll search every corner of the internet and the world just to find someone, and he’s been doing that lately. Searching for hours and hours on the internet to find someone.
He pulls himself back as he smiles, he’s gonna enjoy himself through all this. He starts off small, a few punches and rough tugs of the hair, and he relishes in the muffled cries of the man in front. He rips off the tape and the man screams.
“Who wanted my girl dead and why?” He asks and the man shakes his head.
“I don’t know man!” He says through his tears and shakes his head as if he’s disappointed.
“Such a shame.” He says as he walks to a table full of various weapons and tools of all sizes, he grabs a pair of pliers and walks back to the man, hitting the pliers against his palm.
“Maybe this will ring some answers for you, for every question you don’t answer and I’m not satisfied with the answer I’ll pull one of your teeth out. How does that sound?” The man cries and shakes his head.
“Please man, I’m serious! I don’t know anything!” He cries out and Harry sighs.
“Already onto a bad start, my friend.” He says as he yanks the man’s jaw open as he decides which teeth to pull. As soon as he picks one, the door opens and EJ’s voice rings out.
“Hey boss, sorry to bother you but you have a phone call, it’s important.” Harry shakes his head. He should know better than to interrupt him. He’d hate to have to fire him.
“Uh, I’m busy. Tell them I’ll call back later.” Harry replies back, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his voiceand the door still stays open.
“It’s the hospital, Y/N. She’s alive.”
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1d1195 · 2 hours
Text
Ding - Round 1
I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan
You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding
~3.8k words
As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
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It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.
Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.
As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.
It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.
She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.
A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.
She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.
As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.
“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.
The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.
His grin was adorable.
The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.
He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.
By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.
He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.
“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.
Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”
He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”
“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.
“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”
“Well...no...”
“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.
“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?
He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.
She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”
“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”
“A fight?”
“Boxing.”
“Boxing?” She repeated.
“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”
“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”
“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.
She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.
“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”
“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.
“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.
“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.
“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”
“Are you hard of hearing?”
He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.
“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”
“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”
“By coming to watch your fight?”
He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.
Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.
“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”
“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.
Cupcake.
What was she getting herself into?
She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”
He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”
It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”
It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”
It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.
He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.
When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"
But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”
“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”
She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”
They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.
Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”
“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.
“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.
“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”
“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.
“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.
Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.
Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”
She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”
He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.
It was definitely not a magic show.
Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”
“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”
“You hit Clay?”
“Who’s Clay?”
“His car!”
“He named his car, Clay?”
“Like Cassius Clay?”
Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”
“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”
“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”
She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”
Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”
“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”
Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”
Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.
At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.
Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”
“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.
“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”
He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.
As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.
“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.
“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”
Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”
“Told you,” Niall assured her.
“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”
“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.
Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”
Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.
Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.
He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”
--
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heartateasee · 2 days
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A teaser for the next blurb to come!
- - -
It was quiet between the two of you, and you waited for Harry to say something, anything, but instead he just stared at you. Shaking your head, you spoke up again. “Don’t even bother coming back in here tonight. You can sleep in the fucking guest room.”
Standing up from the bed, you snatched your heels off the floor before heading into your en-suite - not even sparing Harry a second glance as you did so. You slammed the door shut and locked it, dropping your shoes to the ground as you rested both hands against it. Sucking in a deep breath, you allowed your forehead to fall to rest between your hands as your eyes slipped shut.
You hadn’t heard the bedroom door open back up, so you knew that Harry hadn’t left yet. After a moment, you heard the sound of him walking over to the door, and you opened your mouth to tell him to go away again, but you were met with the sound of him dropping his shoes off in front of it. The footsteps trickled away and got quieter, and you heard the bedroom door open.
“Fuck,” you heard him say sharply before the door clicked shut.
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cupid-styles · 24 days
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daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
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she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)
part one
word count: 7.9k
content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours. 
But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.
Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor. 
Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office. 
On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.
It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.
It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.
And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.
The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 
“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."
She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 
She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.
“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.
“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”
She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 
“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”
“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”
His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.
“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”
They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 
But she can’t help herself. 
“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”
Harry’s nostrils flare. 
“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”
He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 
But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?
“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”
He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 
“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 
A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 
“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 
But instead, he stops. 
A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 
“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”
I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 
“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”
He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.
“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”
. . .
Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 
In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 
She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 
When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 
A smile.
“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 
“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 
That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.
As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 
And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.
“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”
Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 
“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.
When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”
As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.
“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”
Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 
“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”
Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.
. . . 
“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 
Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 
“We are,” he says softly. 
“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 
“What do you mean?”
Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 
“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”
Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.
“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”
She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 
And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.
“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”
She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”
“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.
The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 
His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 
“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”
She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 
. . .
Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 
Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.
And there’s still three months left of the semester.
Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.
But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.
It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:
can’t stop thinking about your lips
oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??
It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.
Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.
Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 
He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 
“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”
She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 
“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”
She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”
They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 
Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 
“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 
He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”
“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 
He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 
It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 
“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”
“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”
“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”
Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 
“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”
“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 
With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 
Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 
“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 
“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”
His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 
“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”
“You live alone?”
She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.
“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”
“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”
Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”
Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 
“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”
“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”
His throat bobs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”
He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”
He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 
“Well now I have to know.”
“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”
“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”
Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”
“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”
“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”
“Strawberry, actually.”
He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”
Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”
“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”
She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”
“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 
“I’m right over there.” 
Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 
“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 
“Of course.”
They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 
“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”
He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?
But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.
“Can I come inside, then?”
. . .
Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 
She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.
“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 
“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”
Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”
“Tea is good, sweetheart.”
The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.
“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.
He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”
“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”
“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”
She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.
“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 
Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 
“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”
He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”
She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?”
He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”
He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”
“I know, but—”
“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”
He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 
“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”
“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 
This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 
“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”
He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 
“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”
She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 
But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 
When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.
And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.
“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 
“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 
He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 
“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 
He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 
“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.
“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 
“Harry— oh my god—”
“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”
If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 
“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 
“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”
That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 
“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 
“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”
Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 
“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 
She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 
“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”
“That’s perfectly okay.” 
Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 
“You look big.” She admits. 
He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 
“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 
This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 
“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 
Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”
“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 
“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 
She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 
“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 
“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”
She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 
“Do you really think it’ll fit?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“
“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 
Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 
“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 
“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”
“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 
With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 
“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”
She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 
She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 
He thinks he may pass out. 
Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 
“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 
“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 
“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 
He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 
“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 
That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 
When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 
“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.
Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”
“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“Please.”
His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 
They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 
And then: “So you envisioned this?”
She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”
Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.
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harstyle · 2 months
Text
the styles’ nanny
Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 7.3k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet
A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!
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Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.
And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.
It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.
But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.
“Y/N, did you hear me?”
“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.
“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”
Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.
“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”
Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.
Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”
“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”
He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”
“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”
Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.
“Okay, thank you.”
“No problem, love.”
“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”
“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”
Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.
But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”
“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”
Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”
“Please, I just want ice cream.”
It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.
“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”
He merely shook his head.
Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.
“What’s wrong, bub?”
Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore
Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.
Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.
Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.
Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”
She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”
Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.
“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.
“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”
“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”
He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, are you sure?”
Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.
“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”
In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.
Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.
“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”
“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”
“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”
“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”
He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”
And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.
Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”
She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.
She could probably indulge a little then, right?
“Yeah, I do.”
He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—
“Wait, no, I can do it.”
He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.
“You can now?”
“Yes.”
He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.
What the fuck was that?
Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.
It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.
So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.
And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.
A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.
It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.
“Daddy?”
Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.
Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”
He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.
“Y/N, you’re still here.”
She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”
He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.
“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”
Her stomach did another flip.
Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!
Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.
“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”
Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”
“Missed you, daddy.”
She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.
Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”
In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”
“Will you be here too, Y/N?”
Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.
But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”
To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”
Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”
“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”
“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”
It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.
After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”
Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”
“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”
She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”
She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.
“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”
She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”
He hummed in agreement.
She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.
“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Kay. Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”
“Night.”
Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.
“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”
“It’s my job to be good to him.”
“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”
“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”
The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.
So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.
She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”
His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”
“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”
It was a lie, of course it was.
“Fine.”
As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.
Shit.
Y/N was crying.
She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?
And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.
Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.
She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.
There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.
But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.
“Y/N?”
She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
What had she done?
“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”
“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“
“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”
“The viper.”
“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”
“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.
When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.
“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”
He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.
He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.
After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”
And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.
“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.
“Harry, I’m sor—“
“Drink the water.”
She almost flinched at his angry tone.
Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”
All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.
“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”
Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.
In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”
She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?
“What?”
“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”
The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.
He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.
Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”
Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it
“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”
He truly did have a point there, she supposed.
But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”
“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”
“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.
“What do you mean?”
He couldn’t be so daft, could he?
“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”
That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.
She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”
He was probably right about that.
“Okay.”
As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.
He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.
“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”
“Um, if you have something?”
She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.
He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”
Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”
Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.
When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”
Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.
Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.
“You’re really nice t’me.”
“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”
“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.
What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.
He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.
It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.
He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.
There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.
It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.
He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.
He would lie awake until sunrise.
Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.
God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.
After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.
“God, Y/N, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”
“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.
He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.
Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.
He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.
“I— are you okay?”
It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”
“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“
His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”
Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.
But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.
“So why bring it up?”
“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?
“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”
And that… well, was partly right.
“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”
Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.
“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“
“I know that—“
“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”
Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.
There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.
“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”
“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”
Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”
He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”
“You act like I don’t know that!”
“Evidently you don’t.”
“Yes I d—“
“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”
It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.
Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.
Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.
“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”
She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d fucked up so badly.
And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.
-
And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!
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wrongplacerighttime · 15 days
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fratboy!harry x you
hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)
the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.
wc: 5.8k
tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)
cherry sucker
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Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag. 
While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp. 
“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print. 
“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.
“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.” 
“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?” 
“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.” 
“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.” 
“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head. 
“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head. 
“Know of him, don’t know him though.” 
“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.
“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.” 
“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors. 
Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed. 
“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man. 
Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester. 
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.
“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod. 
“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.
“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace. 
“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.
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The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.
It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed. 
“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her. 
“Think I’ll pass.” 
“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe. 
“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes. 
“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.
The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t. 
“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.
“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand. 
Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground. 
He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment.  He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity. 
So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment. 
“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?” 
A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you. 
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Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.
“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look. 
“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then. 
“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.
“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile. 
“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.
“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat. 
“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be. 
“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.” 
“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario. 
“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.
“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon. 
“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.” 
“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat. 
“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face. 
“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.  
“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling. 
“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him. 
“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity. 
“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips. 
It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside. 
By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock. 
He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.
“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you.  He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure. 
“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips. 
“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap. 
“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side. 
“What?” 
“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say. 
“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you. 
“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs. 
“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin. 
“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”
“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down. 
“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.
“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?” 
“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows. 
“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.
“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside. 
“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you. 
“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh. 
“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you. 
“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment. 
“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.” 
So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper. 
“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder. 
“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up. 
Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.
“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you. 
“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade. 
“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.
“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.
You slept in his bed that night.
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The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus. 
Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe. 
“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.
“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.” 
“I won’t be.”
He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.
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stylesharrys · 10 days
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special brownies [weedrry]
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authors note: i came up with this idea very randomly and i have written it as fast as i possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! if it doesn't, enjoy <333
word count: 2,396
warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.
summary: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.
//
It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.
And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.
There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.
She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.
When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.
She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.
It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.
“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”
Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.
“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on  the opposite end of her.
Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”
Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”
He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.
“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.
She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”
Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.
First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?
“Do we have to?” he grumbles.
Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”
Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.
Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.
They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.
He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.
Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!
Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.
He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.
“We’re sharing a brownie?”
Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”
Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.
“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”
She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”
His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”
“Was she?” Y/N asks.
Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”
//
They can’t stop fucking giggling.
The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.
Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.
“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”
Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.
She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.
The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.
She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.
“Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“They’re fucking weed brownies!”
Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.
“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”
She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.
“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”
Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.
He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.
They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.
Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.
And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.
Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.
They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.
Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.
He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.
He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.
Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.
Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.
They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.
Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.
She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.
Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.
They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.
When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.
Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.
She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.
Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”
He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”
His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.
Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.
Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”
He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.
Harry loves it.
His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.
“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.
The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.
He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.
He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.
“I’m gonna come!”
Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.
He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.
Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.
Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.
Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.
Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.
It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.
It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.
Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.
“We are never to talk about this, understood?”
He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.
“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.
She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
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harrysfolklore · 3 months
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my favorite fics, vol 6
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it’s been a while since the last time i posted a fic rec masterpost ! here are my favorite fics i’ve read recently (i’m doing one for tom soon) enjoy !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
fluff:
perception by @goldengalore
harry styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes by @astranva
afterparty by @chaoticloving
favorite holiday by @tsumtsumrry (has smut)
knight in shinning armor by @fetusharryluvr
just called to say i love you by @harrywritingsbyme
bad habit by @ifancyharry
maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two by @itsallyscorner
when you fall in love by @avatar-anna
serendipity by @adorebeaa (has smut and angst)
pinky swear by @inyourhaven
italy by @bonesandchalamet
5 ways harry mentions you on stage by @glitteredrry
my love, we were in paris by @alonetimelover
sweet nothings by @pancakes4two
get enough by @theshyspy
this insta blurb by @llvstrous099
dynamic by @mydearesthrry
the pact by @harryslittlefreakk
oh, i think she said by @justmeinatree
routines by @elioslover
coffee talk by @itsallyscorner
finally a dad by @flwrsforu
bo peep by @haarrrys
this by @harryyskiwii
angst:
little freak by @goldenbuckyyy
i wish i could change by @cowboy-like-mee
argument by @secret-rendezvous1d
don’t let me down by @itsprashimusic
false god by @sleepyhollands
airport chaos by @musicforastylesrestaurant
this by @alonetimelover
if you love something by @writingsfromhome
home is a feeling by @adore-laur
smut:
italian sun by @harry-on-broadway
no guarantee by @allofurlove
we fight, we make up by @strawnarrries
bad idea, right? by @atharryshouse
private show by @stylesharrys
bad idea right by @lukesaprince
under his bed by @gurugirl
tease by @eveningepiphany
just a little taste by @stylescine
series:
begin again by @sweetcherryharry
ifall for harry by @freedomfireflies
the divorce by @butdaddyilovehim-hs
stages of grief by @missmielyhoran
somebody else by @harrystylescherry
ms honey by @solarisstyles
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gurugirl · 4 months
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1. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
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Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position.
A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.
Word Count: 5.9k
Warning: 18+ only, smut (fingering)
The Unicorn Masterlist
“She’s perfect, Harry.” His wife watched out of the window as you walked to your car parked in front of their house.
“I don’t know. She’s taking care of the kids every day while we’re at work. How does that make her perfect?”
“Because look at her! And she’s so sweet and I just have a sense for these things. She acts all shy and innocent but I bet she’s kinky under it all. And haven’t you seen the way she looks at you?”
He had noticed your glances. The placement of your gaze over his frame. But Harry never thought too deeply about it. Not really. Though he kind of liked that you couldn’t help from dropping your gaze to his lips and then down over his shoulders and mid-torso until every time you breezed your pupils over the natural protrusion at the front of his crotch you were suddenly quickly reminded of what you were doing and bounced your head back just the tiniest bit to correct your sight to the more appropriate height.
But just because you were cute and couldn’t help when your eyes skimmed over his cock with the quickest peek didn’t mean you were perfect to invite into the bedroom with him and his wife. He was hesitant to find a third. He knew that it was unlikely this would end well but his wife had been begging him for it.
Kit was bisexual and once she married Harry, she learned that she often missed the more feminine touches and pretty soft curves. Someone more submissive. It had been almost 8 years since she’d slept with a woman so when she offered a threesome to Harry, she thought he’d jump right at the opportunity but instead, he was worried.
“I think this is a bad idea no matter who it is, but having it be the nanny is like…” he ran a ringed-clad hand through his hair, “… the worst. What if you don’t like seeing me with another woman? Or if I hate seeing you kiss anyone else? I don’t know if I can handle this. And poor Y/n is then stuck in the middle.”
“Harry,” she turned to him and put her hand on his forearm, “You and I are solid. I trust you and you trust me. I know you can handle this. Just the same as I can. I think this will be really good for us. Probably will just make us insatiable for each other. I’m already getting so turned on just thinking about watching you with her. And just imagine it, Harry, having us both laid out, spread legs…” She smoothed a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, pressing herself close to his body, “You dip into her for a few thrusts and then pull out and—“
“Mom, can I have ice cream? Y/n said I had to wait til you and Dad were home.”
Harry and his wife laughed at the timing. They’d be returning to their conversation later.
.           .           .
You arrived bright and early Monday morning as requested. You loved nannying for the Styles. Mrs. Styles was so kind to you. She always made sure you had everything you needed and Mr. Styles was funny and easygoing. Plus the twins were a dream. You loved William and Warner as if they were your own.
“Morning, Y/n,” Mr. Styles smiled warmly at you as he opened the door. Warner walked up to you and hugged you. He was the one that liked hugs a lot.
“Morning Mr. Styles…” you laughed and patted Warner’s back, “and you too Warner.”
Mr. and Mrs. Styles left for work not long after but before they left they both asked you if you could stay after work that night. Mrs. Styles would make dinner and the three of you could have a glass of wine and chat a bit after the kids were put to bed.
Of course, you said you’d love to. Though you had kind of been looking forward to going home and watching your show, you wouldn’t mind having dinner with the Styles. The truth was you found Mr. Styles extremely attractive. He was the hottest guy you’d ever seen. He was married so he was obviously off limits but that didn’t stop your brain from short-circuiting every time you were near him.
And because of the way Mrs. Styles acted around you, almost flirty, you sort of had a crush on her too. You were interested in women but had never dated one. You’d only ever been in a couple of real relationships. You were too shy to approach people you found attractive so your pool of potential dates had been low.
So yeah, you’d accept their invitation for dinner.
.           .           .
“William made a picture today,” you rattled off a few things the boys did. The picture William drew was too cute and he even drew you in between Mr. and Mrs. Styles like you were part of the family.
He held it up proudly and Harry took it and pointed at the figure that was supposed to be you, “Who’s this, Will?”
“It’s Y/n,” he gestured to you.
Harry smiled at William and said how nice it was as he handed the paper back to him. He looked at you for a moment that felt a little warm and lingering before Mrs. Styles brought out the hot pan with food to the table.
When the table had grown quiet as everyone began to eat you wanted to remind Warner to tell his dad that he’d finally gotten the part down on the piano that Harry was teaching him.
“Warner, remember what you were supposed to tell Daddy today?”
When you looked at Harry with a smile you noticed the slightly surprised look on his face but by then it was too late. You hadn’t meant to let the word Daddy slip out like that. If you’d been thinking you’d have said “… supposed to tell your dad today?” Even the twins didn’t call Harry Daddy anymore.
And of course, Warner was already excitedly telling Harry about the part he’d learned on the piano before you could correct it. You hoped no one thought anything of it and while you’d fantasized about calling him Daddy a time or two, you really didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Darting your eyes from Harry to his wife you saw nothing from her at all as a reaction to your misspeak.
Luckily no one seemed bothered by it but you could tell Harry thought something by the surprised smile on his face.
You loved watching the boys interact with their parents. And being able to see it during dinner and then after clean up until they were in their beds with books to read quietly felt special.
Harry, his wife, and you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Mrs. Styles sat next to you and she started doing that thing where she looks at you in that way that gets your heart pounding and raises your temperature.
With her hand on your upper arm, she gushed about how much she and Harry loved you. How great of a nanny you were and how lucky they were to have found you.
Harry sat across from the couch in a leather armchair and watched you and Kit with a more solemn look on his face. He nodded at the end of his wife’s praise for you as he looked at you directly. You felt a shiver up your spine at the intensity of his eyes. But it wasn’t just that. There was something so formidable about him. Like he was governing over the moment. He was still Mr. Styles but with an edge of something uncertain. Darker.
You looked back at Mrs. Styles and smiled shyly, “Thank you. So much. I’m really happy to be working for you. And the twins are just amazing. I feel so lucky too.”
Kit’s hand smoothed down your forearm until she softly pushed her fingers through yours. She was sitting with her legs tucked under herself, feet on the couch, and knees angled toward you.
“Honey, you’re coming on too strong,” Harry chided his wife.
“No, I’m not. I’m just being friendly. Y/n is so sweet. I just…” she looked at you, “You don’t mind this do you?”
You loved the way she was looking at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say she was hitting on you. That had to be wrong, though. Her husband was right there watching you two.
“It’s fine. I know you’re just being friendly.”
Harry laughed and shook his head and spoke his wife’s name in a warning, “Kit. Are you sure you want to do this?”
You looked between the pair. A little confused about what they were talking about. You didn’t know if you’d missed some dialogue somewhere or what but you were definitely picking up a vibe between them.
“If she’s up for it then yes, I’m sure.”
“Up for what?” You questioned them both.
Harry raised his brows and looked at his wife, “I’ll let you do the honors.”
Her hand squeezed at yours gently, bringing your attention back to her. Her other hand brushed over your knee with the tip of her fingers casually, “We think you’re very sweet and pretty, Y/n.” Kit began.
You kept your eyes on hers the best you could but she’d been wearing a low-cut dress and, not unlike the times you dropped your gaze to Harry’s crotch, you couldn’t help peeking at her cleavage with the same attempted deftness.
“And we think you might be fun to…” she paused and looked at Harry, who nodded at her to go on, “Have in bed. For us to share.”
You looked down at where Mrs. Styles was grazing your kneecap with her fingertip and whispered, “To share.”
That was quite a lot. If what she was saying was what you thought she was saying then you’d have to determine if it was worth it.
“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n.” Harry chimed in, “I know you’re a really sweet girl and you don’t want to disappoint anyone but if you tell us no we won’t be upset. You won’t lose your job.”
You were thankful he said that. It had flashed across your mind the idea that if you said no they might not want to keep you around.
“So, you’re like asking me to have a…” you gulped and looked between Harry and his wife, “like a threesome with you?”
“Yes. You don’t have to decide right now. And like Harry said, you don’t have to say yes. We just both find you very appealing and sweet. We’re very much attracted to you too and we trust you. I think we’d all work well together. It could be just a one-time thing or maybe it could be something we do regularly.”
The subject was changed shortly after. They’d done their part. They’d asked you what you thought and now the ball was in your court. You had to figure out what you wanted. Which made it hard to participate in the rest of the conversation. You tried but your brain was having a hard time moving past the things your imagination was coming up with.
“I hope you don’t feel weird after this. No rush to make a decision. Seriously.” Mrs. Styles smiled softly at you as she drew her fingers from the side of your jaw to under your chin delicately.
“Thank you. I just need some time to think.”
She leaned in and kissed your cheek as Harry stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.
When you’d all finished the bottle of wine Harry and Kit walked you to the door. You still didn’t know what you wanted exactly. In a fun fantasy world (which you’d definitely be visiting in your imagination that night) it would be amazing. To have them both? Yes. That sounded so good. But the reality of it wouldn’t be that easy you knew. Would it be awkward to work for them after? And what if you did some kind of arrangement with them as their… what was it called? A unicorn?  
You felt breathless as you got into your car. You hadn’t had all that much wine. A glass and a half. The bottle was split between all three of you so none of you had gotten even close to drunk but you felt all buzzy. And even turned on. The idea of what they were offering sounded like a dream. But maybe that’s how it should remain. Just a dream. A fantasy.
.           .           .
The following day everything seemed normal. The Styles acted as if they hadn’t just asked if you’d want to have a threesome with them. It felt surreal. Like perhaps it never happened.
But when Harry arrived home first after work you felt like something about him was different. That’s when the cracks started forming. That morning he was friendly like he always was. But now he was brooding. His eyes were heavy on you. As if he was now looking at you differently.
He listened to William and Warner tell him about their day but you felt his eyes singing you as he kept looking your way. You felt intimidated by him suddenly and looking at him in increments longer than a few seconds felt like you’d dissolve.
He walked you to the door after you said goodbye to the boys and held the handle tight before turning it, “You wouldn’t want to stay for a drink would you?”
The way he asked you felt less like a question and more like a reminder to you of what was still left on the table. It was a reaffirmation of what was suggested the night before. It was real. It had happened and he was here to remind you.
You looked down at his hand grasped around his door handle and back up to him. You were compelled to say yes as you began to nod, “Yes. Okay.”
You felt nervous. Harry’s grin looked like he was pleased by your answer.
The boys were playing in their room as he poured you a glass of wine.
“When will Mrs. Styles come home?” It was rare that they weren’t home at nearly the same time after work.
“She’s going out with a friend tonight. She’ll be late. I thought you and I could get to know one another a little better. She knows I planned on asking you to stay. I’m glad you did.”
You nodded and felt your nerves only grow. Alone time with Mr. Styles wasn’t something that ever really happened much. Normally Harry was with his wife when he discussed anything with you.
You both sat on the large couch in the living room as Harry lifted his glass toward yours, clinking them together.
“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Harry had one leg draped over his other casually as he looked down at you.
“Uh… I don’t have any. Normally I just make last-minute plans with friends,” you squirmed in your spot at the way he was consuming you with his eyes.
“Maybe if you find you’re free you could come over Saturday afternoon. The kids will be staying with their grandparents. Kit will be making something special for dinner.”
“Oh, that sounds nice. Yeah. I mean, as long as it’s not imposing,” you were growing hot. Your palms were sweating. Harry was so attractive it was making your body weak. You honestly didn’t care what would be made for dinner but you were curious about where the night might lead if you did wind up in their house without their kids around all night.
“Of course, you wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be the guest of honor,” Harry’s arm slid over the back of the cushion behind you, and you gulped nervously.
“Oh, that’s…” you breathed out a jittery laugh, “… not necessary. No need to do anything special for me.”
“I hope you know that anything that happens, we’d always make it special for you, Y/n. We want you to feel comfortable.”
You could feel the temperature around your body rise with his proximity. You had noted how he’d inched his way a bit closer.
“Thank you, Harry. You and Mrs. Styles are always so nice to me.”
You were visibly nervous. Harry could see it too.
His wife had suggested that he invite you to stay for a drink and more if you allowed it. She really wanted to try any angle to get you to say yes to their offer. She figured if you were alone with Harry for a bit maybe you’d feel more comfortable. So, Harry was working on just that. And the more he thought about you and his wife’s convincing argument to bring in a third, he found he was more and more into the idea.
Plus you were simply the sweetest thing. He could see that you were a little timid and somehow that made his body respond to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It set his blood to a low boil. His wife was lovely. Amazing in bed but it was true that with her there was something missing. He rarely got the opportunity to dominate his wife and really release his natural inclination to flex his prowess with her. Because she was dominant as well. And Harry didn’t mind it for the most part. But he missed certain things.
“We’d like to be more than just nice to you, darling,” his fingers behind you softly brushed against your neck and you inhaled shallowly at the contact. “But you already know what we want. How about you? What do you want, Y/n?”
You fluttered your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the pad of Harry’s thumb slide up your neck. Harry’s cologne and his natural scent were so appealing. You turned to look at him and worked up your nerve, “I think it sounds really fun. The offer. I’ve never been with a woman.”
He licked his lips, “You’ve experienced men, then, yeah?”
You nodded. You were sure he could see you physically melt.
“What do you like, Y/n?”
You had not expected the conversation to go this way, “I don’t… I’m not sure. I’ve not really done a lot. Nothing too crazy,” you laughed your words in embarrassment.
Harry’s soft petting on your neck continued, “That’s okay. We can figure it out as we go. To be honest, we’ve never done anything like this either.”
“And Mrs. Styles? Has she been with women?”
Harry nodded, “Yes. This was her idea actually. She’s been missing a feminine presence in bed.”
You felt the trickle of lust and carnal need swell in your body as Harry drew his free hand across his body and to your knee, “Is this okay?”
You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. You wanted to lean forward and grab your glass of wine and gulp the whole thing in one go but you wouldn’t dare break from his hold. It was intimate and having his hands on you was satisfying.
Harry looked toward the hallway and then back to you, “I’d like to kiss you. Y/n. Are you comfortable with letting me kiss you?”
His lips felt like they’d burst into flames if he didn’t press them into yours. But he couldn’t do that in front of the twins because he knew that once he felt your mouth and your tongue he was going to want more and if you were open to it he’d take it even further. His wife had given him permission as long as he was discreet (not in front of the boys). No sex without her present but some heavy petting and fingering were fine.
“Okay,” you breathed and expected him to kiss you right then as you braced yourself.
“Yeah?” He squeezed your thigh and tilted his head as he looked down over your body, “Go into my bedroom. I’ll be right there.”
You were shaky as you stood up and watched Harry walk away to talk to the twins in their room. The boys were old enough that they’d play by themselves just fine, you knew. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips and gulped half at once. You couldn’t even remember walking to the master bedroom upstairs. Your mind was a swirl of what-ifs and scenarios and questions.
“Are you okay?” Harry said as he closed the door behind himself. Everything was happening in slow motion. You were trying not to feel so floaty and far away but you couldn’t help it. Your experience with sex had been minimal and you certainly had never pictured yourself as part of this situation.
“I’m just nervous. I’m always like this the first time…” You swallowed and looked at the edge of the dresser against the wall.
“That’s okay,” Harry stepped in front of you and rubbed his hands down your arms, “I’m a little nervous too but I really want to kiss you. Just didn’t want the boys to see.”
You nodded in understanding, “And it’s okay with Mrs. Styles?”
His hands slowly grazed up your arms to your shoulders and then around to the back of your neck and head, “Her idea. But in all honesty, I want to kiss you. Feel like I need to.”
Blinking your eyes you raised your arms to hold onto his biceps as you kept your eyes pinned to his. He was solid under your hand. Of course, he was. You knew Mr. Styles was fit and you’d seen him in shorts and t-shirts and once glimpsed his pecs. You knew he had tattoos.
But when he finally nudged his nose to yours and his hot lips wrapped around your mouth everything went from being slow motion and blurry to high speed and heart pounding. You couldn’t get enough of his mouth and his tongue and you gripped his arms until he’d practically lifted you off your feet and pulled you to his bed.
His kisses were wet and warm and he moaned into your mouth. He was ravenous. It made you feel like a seductress, like he craved you.
You were across his lap and twisted to face him with your arms over his shoulders and your tongue pressed to his when he cupped your face and parted from the kiss.
“Y/n… Fuck honey…” he dabbed a kiss to your jaw and then looked back at you, “Can I get your pants off? Make you feel good? No sex tonight,” his words were deep and thick, “That’s for Saturday. But for now,” he ran a hand up your thigh up to your hip, “I can give you a preview with my fingers. If you want.”
“Yes, Harry,” you breathed your words and tried to lean back in for another kiss but he kept you at a distance, his hands on your jaw and fingers cradling the back of your head.
“I really liked it when you referred to me as Daddy last night. Will you do that for me again, honey?”
See. That was the thing. You already thought of him as Daddy. In all your private fantasies you called him Daddy. But it made you nervous because you fantasized about Harry far more than you ever did his wife. Kit was beautiful and she was definitely your type but Harry dominated your secret daydreams. So it would be easy for you to call him Daddy. But it worried you when it came to having his wife included in that dynamic.
“Is that okay? I mean,” you sighed breathily, “Will Mrs. Styles be okay if I call you Daddy?”
“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Harry licked his lips, “Tell you what. Tonight, call me Daddy because I want to hear your sweet voice say it when I finger you, okay? I’ll talk to her and let her know I asked you to and I think she won’t care but if she doesn’t like it we won’t do it again.”
You nodded. Daddy it was. That would be easy.
Harry brought an arm to your low back and leaned you down onto his bed. The bed he shared with his wife. With his knees dug into the bed next to your hip he loomed over you and brought a gentle hand up to the front of your neck and pressed, “How does this feel? Is this okay?”
It was a first for you. To have someone’s hand on your throat. It was a surprise. But the good kind. You loved how small it made you feel and how powerless. You knew if you asked him to remove his hand he would but the notion that you were physically relinquishing your power to him was so hot to you somehow.
“It’s good,” you breathed just before he inched down to kiss you again.
It felt absolutely nuts what you were doing. Making out with your boss, a married man, in his bedroom while his wife who was away gave him permission and even encouraged this situation.
Harry’s hand slid off of your neck and down your t-shirt, “Can we take this off? All of it? So I can see you?”
You nodded, “Yes,” and sat up so you could pull your shirt over your head. Harry unbuttoned his own and watched you unzip your pants and tuck your fingers inside the waistband before lifting your bum to pull them down your legs.
With his shirt unbuttoned you saw more tattoos. You’d paused for just a moment when you took note of his bare chest and abs.
Harry got to his knees and leaned over you, his hands on either side of your hips, “Do you need help with this?”
He put his hands over yours where you were grasping your waistband and helped you pull them off your legs.
His hands found your calves as he looked at you, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. Take your bra off.”
So you did. Unhooking the back and letting the front fall down your arms. Harry’s hands found their spot on either side of your hips again as he softly kissed each of your nipples, “Beautiful. Can I take your panties off?” His fingers were already dancing over the fabric of your waistband, knowing you’d be saying yes.
You gulped and nodded as he dragged the material down your legs, rendering you completely nude. Harry let out a breath as he raked his eyes over skin and curve and freckle.
Harry lay next to you and took your hand in his, bringing it up between you on the mattress, “You still doing okay, Y/n?”
You were feeling very vulnerable and insane for laying completely naked next to him but still you nodded. Because you wanted more of what he was doing.
You rolled to face him on your side when he smeared his mouth over yours. Letting go of your hand he moved his fingers down over your side to your hip and then upper thigh just at the curve of your ass. He squeezed softly but enough that you could feel his big palm grasping your flesh. You lifted your thigh to mantle his hip out of instinct and his palm spread out over the globe of your cheek.
“Want my fingers, honey?”
The way the tips of his fingers were grazing so close to your pussy with your leg draped over him you were losing your mind. All he had to do was lower an inch and he’d feel your wetness.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Harry moaned and moved his head back to look at you, “Oh I really like how that sounds. Let’s have a look then,” he ran his hand over your hip to the front of your tummy as he moved back the tiniest bit to press his fingers over your mound. Slowly his fingers lowered until he met soft wet lips. He breathed in through his teeth, “You all wet for Daddy?”
The smile on his face was cocky but you loved it.
“Yes,” you bit your lip.
With his eyes on yours, he parted your labia with two fingers and slowly ran them down to your opening and then back up until he bumped your clit and pressed over that. You moaned softly.
He was easy with his fingers on you as he kept slipping them up and down, pushing your arousal through your crease and getting his fingers coated.
When he captured your lips in his again you felt him prodding at your entrance. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and he pressed two fingers inside as you grasped onto his shoulder.
You groaned as he fingered you and fixated on the spongy dip inside. You bucked into his hand, “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?”
You panted yesssss.
The sloppy noises that were coming from between your legs would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.
“Please,” you breathed as you lowered your hand to his hip, “I wanna see.”
Harry kept thrusting into you with his fingers while his thumb smoothed against your clit, “You can on Saturday, baby. For now, this is all about you.”
You whined and closed your watery eyes as he began to fuck into you faster. His palm was a sticky mess. You raised your hip and rutted into his hand harder.
“You’re gonna grip me so tight and I’m gonna push inside you deep,” he punctuated his words with his thrusts, “Have you creaming all over my cock.”
Your groans grew louder as he pasted his mouth to your neck and you felt the warm press of his tongue on your skin, his curls brushing against your jaw. He shifted so that suddenly you were on your back and he was on his side with his fingers still inside of you, lips on your breasts.
He felt so good and you were already so caught up in the way he was making you feel you’d all but forgotten that this man was married and he was your boss. This was better than your fantasies. He was more confident and a lot more dominant in reality. And just sweet enough that you felt safe.
Harry lifted upward slightly, still pumping his fingers through you causing you to let out a small squeal. You felt his hand cover your mouth and you peeled your eyes open as he lowered his lips to your tits, his fingers plowing through your walls. You were being too loud.
He peered up at you with his tongue gliding over your nipple, his shoulder flexing with each thrust of his arm. Yes, this was definitely better than fantasy. Because it was happening and it felt so good.
You felt his lips slip off the skin of your nipple, “If I take my hand off, you gonna keep quiet?”
 Nodding your head you softly moaned into his hand. He pulled his hand away from your mouth and leaned over you to kiss your mouth. Softly at first. It felt like candy-flavored pink sparkle dust magic with his warm lips smoothing against yours, and his nose mushing into your nose.
“Daddy, please…” you breathed as he lifted himself to look down at you.
“What baby?” The sound of your wet pussy getting fingered was the backdrop of you beginning to unravel.
“M’gonna come… Daddy, ffuu– ohhh!” Your mouth was quickly covered again when your volume grew even louder than it had been. You heard Harry softly chuckle just as you clenched around his fingers and grasped his forearm, your neck stretched over the pillow as you arched your back.
Harry looked down at his hand and groaned at how your pussy was devouring his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see what his cock would look like sinking into your perfect cunt. And he thought you were pretty when you orgasmed. He was sure he’d want to make you come over and over again if his wife wasn’t too greedy with you.
“Such a good little girl, Y/n. There you go, baby.” He smirked at you, his fingers still slipping into you, squelching when he buried them in all the way.
“This what you needed? Needed to come on Daddy’s fingers?” Your soft moan was muffled as you finally set your gaze back on Harry who was already looking at you.
“Just imagine how good it’s gonna feel on my cock.” He slid his thumb over your clit and you jolted from sensitivity.
Harry took his hand off your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy as he sat back, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to taste you. He could smell your pussy as he was fingering you and couldn’t wait to get a taste.
Popping his fingers out of his mouth he caged you into your spot on the mattress, hovering over you, “How was that?”
“So good,” you were still taking in labored breaths.
His mouth encased yours once again. His kiss was lustful and fiery. You could smell yourself when he cradled your head, his fingers, still damp with you, swiping into strands of your hair.
A deep moan fell from his chest and you pulled your arms over his shoulders and the cotton of his shirt. Your body began to ignite again just before he parted from your mouth with a gasp.
“I’m sorry. Got carried away. Your lips are so sweet,” his voice was deep and breathy. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” you nodded and smiled.
Harry insisted on helping you clean up. First, you peed but then he came in and wet a towel to help wipe you and talk to make sure you were okay.
You could tell he had a boner. The front of his trousers was bulged in an obvious way. His pupils were dark and his skin was hot. And you would have loved to have him use you however he wanted to take care of himself but you wouldn’t go against his Kit’s wishes.
“So, Saturday? You sure you want to come over?” Harry handed you the clothes he’d picked up from the floor and his bed.
“Yeah. I’d like to.”
Harry cupped your jaw and smudged your cheekbone with his thumb, “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
He walked you out to your car and squeezed your hand before dropping it. It felt strange. Like you’d just gotten away with something so immoral and improper but you were elated.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/n. Drive safe.”
“Okay. Thank you, Da–“ your eyes widened and you felt your whole body wash in heat as you tried to correct your near-fatal error, “Ha- Harry.”
The grin on his face with smiling dimples told you that he didn’t mind, “Night, sweet girl.”
Part 2
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sykostyles · 7 days
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wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two
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a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)
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cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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jarofstyles · 27 days
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Caught
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Heyyyy.... This is something I wrote all in one night and it got filthy quick lol. I've been trying to do more one offs and I hope you guys like this one!!
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WC- 9.1k
Warnings- Sex w someone who isn't Y/N (It's quick don't worry), friends to lovers, angst, unprotected sex, spitting, praise kink
------
Y/N hadn’t thought twice about going into the living room she shared with her roommate, AirPods in her ear as she had padded across the hall. Maybe if she had been aware of her surroundings, maybe if she hadn’t assumed Harry would figure out she was home by her keys on the rack or her text prior, she would have avoided walking into the scene of filth she found herself stumbling in on. 
Strolling into the living room, she was stopped cold by the scene in front of her. There, on their couch, was Harry. Fully naked, his back red with what would be scratch marks in the morning, thrusting into someone. A woman, by the sound of the whimpers. Manicured nails gripped his biceps as she whimpered, the sound of sex becoming evident as she ripped the AirPod from her ear. 
She was frozen. Standing there shocked, hearing his grunts as his hand steadied him on the back of the couch with his fingers denting the fabric, his powerful thrusts jolting the girl and the furniture. He was into it, fully. As much as she felt she was intruding, she couldn’t stop looking. 
It was hot. Y/N had to admit that, even in her frozen shocked state. The mix of their sounds, her red hair spilling over onto the pillow, her leg being held up by one of his hands to get, what was most likely, the perfect angle. Just by the sound of it, the pair was having an incredible time. 
“Fuckin’ taking it so well..” His raspy voice was deep, a depth she hadn’t heard the fullness of. It sent tingles down her body, hearing her roommate and seeing him in a way she hadn’t before. He had always been sweet and goofy and silly. He joked around about getting lucky, she heard some lighthearted sex stories and had he was a master at dirty jokes- but she had never seen him in the element. Assuming most people didn’t see their friends like that. 
Y/N didn’t harbor any feelings, not that she knew of. She wasn’t hurt by the viewing, no, more so fascinated and embarrassed because she had caught them. But they seemed far too into it to notice her. That itself got her hot between her thighs. 
Harry seemingly hadn’t been lying about his skill in the bedroom. She thought he had been exaggerating, but the way the girl under him was wailing seemed to have her thinking different. 
“Fuck me.” The girl’s voice sounded weak, red nails tangling in his hair and pulling him down. The sound of lips coming together for a kiss echoed in the room, his pace slowing and his hips grinding into her, making the redhead moan and arch her leg up over his hip to pull him closer. The weak whine was wistful, the pop of their mouths disconnecting and saucy chuckle from Harry was low as he gripped her jaw. 
“You’re so close. I can feel it.” He spoke close to her mouth. “Wet little cunt’s making a proper mess. Should make you clean it up with your tongue. Filthy little thing.” He grumbled. 
Y/N had sense to slowly back into the hallway, hiding behind the wall- but she still couldn’t look away. It was wrong. So goddamn wrong, but her cunt was hot and wet from simply watching, she wanted to see it all. Just looking at how wet his covered cock had been, stretching the stranger’s cunt out and hearing her whines had her imagining herself in her place. 
Would he choke her? Would he call her filthy? She could only hope. 
Her eyes watched as the girl clung to him, letting out little noises each time his cock thrusted into her. The pace was picking up from the slower one, her lips parting in a soft ‘o’ as Harry looked down at her. It seemed intense. No words exchanged but the noises of their sex, the wetness of her cunt and his cock fucking into the stranger’s welcoming cunt filling the room. 
The shift happened when he slowly adjusted her leg. Like a bolt had hit her, she squealed and arched up, panting out to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… right there, fuck me right there, don’t stop.” She was desperate, begging him as his prick filled her dripping cunt again and again. 
“M’not stopping until you’re creaming around my cock, sweetheart.” He smirked, keeping the angle perfect as he continued to sheath himself inside of her. The pleasured groans and moans, slapping of skin, it was all hot. Every bit of it. Y/N wasn’t going to be able to forget it. Harry was stretching her out, and watching his cock inside of her was doing something to her. 
It planted a seed of jealousy in her mind. Displaced, of course, because she had no claim over him. He was her friend, her roommate, but watching this made her recall her own experiences. While they hadn’t been bad- some were ever good!- they never made her moan like that. Never made her legs tremble in the way the girl underneath Harry were. No one had spoken to her with that sort of grit, that dirty. Her own had been moans, whispers, but nothing that came close to how her body was reaction to the mere sight of this. 
The noises got louder and she could see that they were getting to the edge but it felt like too much to watch it happen. Instead, she shut her bedroom door and listened. The slap of skin, the whimpers coming from the woman that were slightly muffled and the words of encouragement leaving his mouth. He called her a good girl, told her to cum around him, and a smack followed by a heady moan made her eyebrows raise. Harry was into it. It happened soon after, the repeated mewls into the air that she was cumming and the sound of his hips quickening before he let out a groan that would surely haunt her, then the sounds of frantic lips meeting. 
It was over now, but she surely wouldn’t forget about it anytime soon. 
——
Y/N hid out in her room for 2 hours. She knew the girl was gone, heard Harry tell her goodbye and the closing of the door. Heard him take a shower. But she was hesitant to leave. It was going to be an awkward thing, she knew, especially because she’d slipped her hand into her panties and made herself orgasm in record time. 
She was ashamed to get off to the memory of that. This was Harry, after all! But she couldn’t deny the hunger that rose after seeing the type of sex she’d always thought was reserved for her erotic novels in real time. Her sex had never been like that and the pleasured sounds and words from the woman he’d fucked had sounded so desperate and real, there was no way she was faking it.  The other thing that bothered her, though, was the fact that he had done it on the couch. They had a rule not to do anything in common areas, and if he had just followed them then she wouldn’t be in this mess. Thinking of him in ways she shouldn’t be. 
The guilt bubbled in her stomach, but it was hungry more than anything. She needed to eat something, needed to face the music, and she waited until Harry was in his room to scurry to the kitchen and grab some snacks as fast as she could- some chips, dark chocolate, a protein drink, piling them in her arms to make the great escape back to her room- only to turn around to see Harry standing there with a smile. 
Fuck.
“Hey, lovely. When did you get home? I didn’t hear the door.” He hummed, stepping closer into the kitchen and bumping her hip to get into the fridge. 
There were a few ways she could go about this, but Y/N didn’t like to lie. She despised it, actually, and that’s part of what made Harry like her so much. His words, not her assumption. She was honest to a fault, and it was hard to go back from that. But she wasn’t about to admit she stood there and watched- not on her own terms. 
“I’ve been home all day.” She said simply, avoiding his eye as she adjusted the snacks in her arms. Part of her wanted to book it to her room but if she did that, it would be even worse. He’d follow her. As hard as she’d tried, her voice came off a bit cool, not the normal easy warmth it usually held. He’d know. 
He froze. Harry’s body stiffening as he stood up from the fridge and shut the door. “You-You have?” His voice was hesitant and she could feel his eyes on her as she nodded, pretending to be interested in the ingredients list of her chocolate. “I- um…” it was very rare to have Harry speechless. He always knew what to say, how to say it, but in this instance he didn’t know how to react. “You… Did you-“
“Yep.” Y/N nodded. Despite how much she yearned for a lack of awkward, there was no avoiding it. 
“You said you’d be gone today.” His tone was accusatory, making irritation flare up in her. Her eyes blazed as they looked up at him. “You said you’d be at work.” 
“I texted you and told you that someone switched shifts with me.” That was no lie, but her voice was hard. Defensive. Because she wasn’t going to be blamed for his lack of phone usage. He was usually good with checking texts but some days he slacked, but she texted him and let him know she would be home. It was clear that he saw that when he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw the message on his lock screen, his body deflating and shrinking back as he saw the hard look in her eye. Y/N wasn’t usually irritated with him, but she didn’t appreciate being called a liar. 
“Fuck.” He said quietly, looking from the phone to her face which was showing obvious signs of discomfort. Harry would never want to make her uncomfortable, and he’d done exactly that with his own oversight. “Y/N, Love- I’m so sorry, I-“
“It’s fine.” She said quickly. “Just… clean the couch.” It made her feel gross to think there were traces of someone else, bodily fluids where she liked to take her naps. Even more so because she didn’t know how often this had happened. 
“I-of course. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t see the text, I would have never done anything if I knew you were home-“
“I said it was fine, Harry.” It came out sharper than she intended it to. Obviously it wasn’t fine. “I was waiting for a few hours to get something to eat so I didn’t interrupt. I just wanted to get my damn snacks and eat them in peace. If you’ll excuse me.” Bumping past him, she rushed towards her door and turned the lock, placing the snacks on her desk. That hadn’t gone smoothly. Not at all. 
—-
Harry felt like a piece of shit. 
It wasn’t often that he felt like that, but knowing he had done something that obviously made Y/N uncomfortable. The icky, nasty guilt and shame settled in his stomach as he sat on the couch he’d just steam cleaned, face in his hands. He’d known it had been a dumb idea to bring a girl back from the gym on a whim. He’d felt weird about it at first, but he’d been positive Y/N was at work and he’d have time to clean up and whatever before she came home. 
It was worse considering he chose a common area. He’d been so fucking horny, and the girl had been more than willing to be the one who relieved him. To be honest, he didn’t know her and probably wouldn’t ever see her again, but that didn’t matter now. The impulsive decision, his lack of awareness and selfishness had gotten him into a mess. This wasn’t just his flat. Y/N had been here first, she had bought this couch, and he had been selfish and done something on it that he knew he’d probably be a bit peeved about if she had done the same thing. 
Truthfully, he’d be hurt if he had to listen to Y/N get fucked. Even more so if he saw it but, he didn’t know what she knew. What she saw. It made him panic a little internally because there was no way he could get what he wanted with her now. He’d fucked up massively and he didn’t know how to fix it. 
His crush on Y/N had been an inconvenience he was truly trying to get over. She made no implications that she liked him back and he had been trying to learn how to be okay with that. How was she ever going to believe that he liked her when she was witness to him fucking all his pent up sexual aggression, aggression she unknowingly caused by walking out in her little sleep shorts this morning riding up her bum, onto another woman? There was no way she was going to take him seriously. His head was beginning to hurt as he tried to think of a way to apologize. 
Ordering her favorite pizza, he had it delivered to their flat and thanked the man with a tip before placing it on their dining table. The nerves were overrun as he made his way towards her door, the cold panic in his stomach making its way up his throat as he hesitantly raised his knuckles to knock on the door. 
“Love?” There as a brief silence and he held his breath, hoping he didn’t fuck it up enough to the point where she hated him. 
“Yeah?” The hesitant voice was smaller than the one he was used to, making him deflate a little bit. At least she answered. 
“I um, I got pizza for dinner. Your favorite.” His hands rested against her doorframe as he spoke through the door. “Did you- would you want to come out and eat with me? We can watch a movie or a show.” The attempt was something, at least. 
“I…” she paused. “If it’s alright I’d like to eat in my room. I’ll pay you back for the pizza.” He could almost hear her brain going. “I don’t think I’d like to sit on the couch for a while.”
His stomach dropped. God damn it. He really did make her uncomfortable, enough where she didn’t want to eat with him or sit in their living area. He felt his throat thicken, frustration building in his veins that was unfairly aimed at her. 
“I said I was sorry, Y/N.” He grunted. “Why don’t you want to eat with me? I steamed the couch, it’s safe to sit on now and I just want to fix it. So can you please get over it a little bit and come and eat?” 
Of course he regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to talk to her like that. The frustration was aimed at himself and not her, but it came out all wrong. He heard her hitch in breath as she shuffled on her bed, opening the door to look at him with a blazing glare that made him shrink back. The man had never been in the receiving end of her anger before. 
“No, I’m not going to just get over it, Harry. Walking into my living room and seeing you pound some woman into the couch I like to take my naps on, a couch I bought before you even lived here may I add, is a bit jarring. We had rules about bringing people over and it’s supposed to stay in our rooms. Obviously it doesn’t fucking matter when you think I’m not home and I’m kind of sick at the thought of what else I may have sat on or slept in because you decided to disrespect me in our home.” She snarled, looking up at him with the severe gaze.  “If you really think all you have to do is buy some pizza and offer to watch a show with me and I’m just going to forget that you’ve gone behind my back, you’d be sorely mistaken. I’ve never lied to you, never once.” The look of betrayal had his stomach turning. “Just… leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk about it.” 
He watched as she slammed the door in his face, his body hot with embarrassment as she locked it. A clear sign she didn’t want to talk to him and it made him feel even worse than before. The words he said had been out of line and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to handle fighting with Y/N. It had never happened until this moment. 
“I’m sorry. Y/N, I-I don’t know why I said that but I just-“
“Harry. I asked you to leave me alone. Can you just respect this one fucking thing?” Her raised voice made him jump, eyes widening at the tone. Being at the receiving end of her anger wasn’t something he ever wanted to happen. “Just… go eat your pizza and leave me be. I’m not hungry.” 
It stumped him. He didn’t know how else to fix it. How could he? She was still very upset and he had fucked up, but what was even worse was knowing that he liked her way more than she liked him and having nothing to prove it by. He had brought home women that looked like her to try and get it out of his system many a time, but it never worked. 
To her, he was her silly, clumsy, charming friend. He was a shoulder to lean on, maybe. But to him? She was incredible. She was honest, brave, intelligent, witty, and so fucking pretty it was hard to look at her without wanting to touch sometimes. 
He’d never made a move because she didn’t seem like she was interested. She’d never gazed at his mouth the way he knew he looked at hers, she didn’t elongate the hugs- he was the one that would let go last. She’d been a friend to him when all he could think about was cupping her face and kissing her lips until they were swollen and she was breathless. He’d gone and mucked up any chance he had with her seeing him as anything more. 
Going back into the kitchen, he put the pizza into the fridge and returned back into his room. He wasn’t hungry anymore. All he was going to be able to focus on was the ability to fix this. 
——-
Y/N knew she was probably overreacting a little bit. It wasn’t as if he had killed someone. He’d broken a rule, yes, but she wasn't a tyrant. It shouldn’t matter to her so much, and that’s what she had been trying to figure out. Why did it?
She just didn’t like the answer she came up with. 
The girl was jealous. That was the thing that she could see, even if she didn’t want to. She was jealous because she’d never been fucked like that, never been touched in that way, talked to that way, and it had never been by Harry. He’d made her see him in a different light and now she was thinking about him in a way she shouldn’t be. 
She’d always loved Harry. He was a friend and her roommate, of course she was going to have fondness for him. It had never seemed like there were any feelings there, nothing had been outwardly there, no jealousy when he spoke of other people, but…. Seeing it? It had been arousing, yes, but after she thought about it for a bit it’d felt like a kick in the stomach. Why had he never tried anything with her before? Was he just that much of a flirt? It wasn’t a secret that he liked to fool around but somehow, things in her brain were changing and making her feel irritational. 
The sexual frustration that came from that was, well…. Stupidly frustrating. It made her wonder what his hands felt like, what his lips tasted like. If he would treat her the same way, or if he would be gentler. If he would kiss her neck and tell her she was a good girl, that she was taking it so well, if he would smack her ass too. It made her feel guilty that she even thought about him that way. 
Avoiding him for 3 days was a bit overkill, for sure. But she didn’t know how to look him in the face. How could she after all of that? It didn’t help that no matter where she tried to bring her fantasies when she would touch herself, it came back to him. The last three days had been plagued by the thought of him grabbing her hair and tugging her head back for a sloppy kiss while he was balls deep, praising her for it. 
He’d been sweet about it. Leaving her donuts one morning, flowers another. This morning it had been a hand written note. 
‘Y/N
I can’t express to you how sorry I am that I broke our rule. I know you don’t ask for much of me as a roommate and I promised I’d uphold them, and I fucked up. I had a lapse in judgment and I regret it a lot more than you can imagine. 
I don’t know how to fix this with us. I want to. I miss you and I miss talking to you but I’m trying to give you the space you need even if it hurts. I made the mistake and I’m paying for it. 
I promise I won’t ever do it again. I won’t bring someone home again, if that could help. Please talk to me when you’re ready. I miss you so much more than you could know. I’m not trying to buy you over with the gifts but I don’t know what else to do without making you uncomfortable. It’s killing me to know I hurt you at all. I’ve never done it before, though. I promise. I’ve never had anyone else there. It truly was a mistake. 
I’ll be home at my normal time if you want to talk, I’m bringing home Italian food. I’ll grab your favorite. Text me if you need, I’d love to hear from you.
H xx’
The note sounded genuine. It’s why she placed a blanket over the couch and sat stiffly as he walked into the door, noticing his double take as he hung up his keys. The bag of food hung off his arm and he looked at her wide eyed, though staying quiet as he went into the kitchen to place it down. 
“Hi.” He started, walking over to her slowly. “D-Did you have a good day?” The nerves could be heard in his voice and it made her sad. She didn’t want him to be terribly nervous around her, not when they used to have a really comfortable relationship. 
“It was okay.” She murmured, rubbing her hand over her lounge pants. “Got off of work early.” What else was she supposed to say? It was hard to navigate this when she’d never imagined fighting with Harry at all. 
“Oh? That’s good.” He sat on the coffee table in front of her, wanting to face forward when he spoke to her. “I had to stay a tiny bit late. It’s why I wasn’t home on time. I’m sorry.” His eyes were studying her face, desperate to see forgiveness in her eyes. The last few days without her had felt so empty. 
“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Figured something like that happened.”  Picking at her nails, she moved to look at him. “I’m not sure how to talk to you right now. I’m not angry anymore, but I don’t know how to go about it.” Y/N, as blunt as ever, made him smile sadly.
“M’crawling out of my skin. Don’t like that I made you upset at all. It was stupid. You read my note?” He anxiously awaited all day a text from her but he hadn’t gotten one. 
“I did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m upset about the couch thing but there’s layers to it that have been difficult for me to understand. It isn’t fair of me to sit and say it’s all your fault I stayed away for the last few days because part of it was me.” It was terrifying to admit things like this but she didn’t know how else to be. It would probably make things weird with them, but it had to be discussed or it would ruin their friendship. 
“How do you mean?” Brows furrowed as he shifted forward, hands on his knees as he leaned into her space. He’d always been a touchy person who didn’t know what personal space was, so she was used to it but it still made her react. A bit differently this time. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” It was difficult to look at him without feeling that burn in her stomach. “It made me look at you differently. A way I hadn’t allowed myself to look at you before, and I’ve felt guilty and…” how could she word it? “Slightly perverted for it. You’re my friend and I shouldn’t have let seeing that influence anything other than my upset about the rules, but it made me think of you in a light that friends shouldn’t look at other friends.” 
Well, he hadn’t expected that. 
He was slowly catching on, watching her shy face as she looked back towards her lap and fiddled with her hands. She looked at him in a sexual way. That’s why she was avoiding him. The couch issue was one thing, but she was upset that she was looking at a friend in a way that went past their normal relationship. 
As fucked up as it may be, he felt a sprinkle of hope. Her postures perked up a bit as he tried to get her eyes again, but he didn’t want to assume she wanted anything from him. “That’s okay, love.” His hand cautiously grabbed one of hers, holding it lax enough that she could pull back if she wanted to. “Really. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, relief flooding him that the majority of the reason she had been avoiding him was something like this. Something he could remedy. “So you’ve been thinking of me sexually, that’s what you’re saying?”
Y/N groaned, closing her eyes as her head fell back against her shoulders. “God, yes. Okay?! And I’m ashamed of it. I don’t know why it happened and why I can’t just forget about it but it makes me…’it made me annoyed that I haven’t felt anything like that before. I’ve never made noises like that and no one’s ever made me feel like what I assume she was. I’ve always seen you as something else and then, imagine my fucking surprise when I walk in and see you acting like a porn star. Not even one of the bad ones either. It would have been easier if it was!” The floodgates opened and Harry watched with raised brows as she continued, fueling his ego in the process. “I feel guilty pthat I looked at it and wanted to be in that position. I never thought of you like that, not that you aren’t amazing and attractive but you were supposed to just be my platonic friend considering we’d roommates. Don’t you know how bad it would be to be into your roommate? It makes everything insane.” 
“I know how it feels.” He murmured, making her pause. If she was unloading all of this stuff, being honest as honest could be, he figured he may as well. Let it all set out on the table. 
“Wait- what?” She squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes this time. It had been a mistake, she thought, until he shrugged his shoulders. 
“Yeah. I’ve always thought of you like that, but you didn’t seem to reciprocate so I tried to get over it. I was distracting myself so I wouldn’t fuck up our friendship.” It was his turn to look at his lap, watching his freshly painted thumb run over her knuckles and fiddle with her ring. “Always worried about making you feel like… objectified in your own home. I wanted to be respectful. But do you really think I’m not attracted to you?” He found the courage to look up again. “I’ve been attracted to you since we first met. But you’ve always been so nonchalant about everything, I assumed you didn’t care.”
Y/N was stumped. Harry was into her? He wanted to touch her this whole time and she had been none the wiser? It made her pause, trying to recount all their memories. Had he always looked at her like this? With the soft glint in his eyes, or with the hunger? Yearning, perhaps was the word. She’d never even guessed that in the slightest. He’s had a revolving door of partners coming over to fuck around, but she thought that’s just how he was.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to make you feel obligated to cater to my feelings. I still don’t. If you aren’t into me like that, it’s okay. I want our friendship to remain in tact. But I needed to tell you it’s not one sided. You don’t have to feel guilty over thinking of me like that considering the only reason I took that girl home was because you’d made me sexually frustrated that morning with those little sleep shorts and coming in for a hug and pressed your sleepy, soft body against me. I needed to get that out.” He knew it didn’t make much sense when he said it out loud. 
“Did it work?”
That hadn’t been the response he expected, blinking a few times as he gave her a questioning look. “Did what work?” 
“Fucking her. Did you get me out of your mind?” She looked at him expectantly and he could feel the heat starting to raise in his cheeks. He’d expected… not this sort of train of thought, but he wasn’t about to lie again. 
“Not really.” He admitted. “I mean… in the moment, an orgasm helped. But I wasn’t fucking the person I was thinking about.” 
This time Y/N blinked a few times at him, trying to catch up mentally. “So…’you were thinking about me, when you…”
“Yes.” Unashamed at this point, there was nothing to lose. 
“And all the things you were saying? You were like….” Her eyes fell to his mouth. Pretty and pink, obviously nervously bitten, she had been a little shocked at the revelation. “You were saying them to me? In your head?”
“Basically.” He could see on her face that she was flustered but chose not to tease her about it like he normally would. “I usually bring people back that look like you. Tried to do people who were the opposite but, it made it harder to cum.” The gloves were off now. There was a shift in the air as she adjusted herself on the couch, pressing her thighs together and desperately hoping he didn’t notice. 
He did. 
“You can’t… finish? Unless you think about me?” It made her eyes stay wide, her grip on his hand tightening slightly out of reflex. 
“Well… I can, but it isn’t as good. Usually that’s where my head goes to. I can’t really help it.” Harry came the hardest when he looked at where his cock connected to the other person, imagining it being her cunt he was fucking. Her moans. That the praises that he was saying was heard by her and the clenching and slickness was caused by her reaction to him. It was a bit pathetic and he knew it, but at least it wasn’t a secret anymore. 
“Do you still want to?” 
Harry’s head whipped up so fast he knew he must have pulled a muscle, but there wasn’t a tract of joking on her face. Was she asking what he thought she was. “Do I still want to fuck you?” He clarified, watching her bother head in response. Fuck. The lump in his throat was swallowed as he tried to reply the best way he could. “Of course I do. I’ve been thinking about it for ages but… it’s not just about sex with you.” It was much more than that. “I actually like you. I’d want… I wouldn’t want to have sex once and be done with it. I’d want to properly take you out at some point.” It was a bit unorthodox considering they already lived together but he wouldn’t want to give her any less than she deserved. 
“Okay.” She said softly. “We can do that.” 
His head was spinning. Y/N was so casual about it, not hesitant at all in her agreement to basically be something with him. It felt like he was in a dream, but the frantic beats of his heart made him understand he was very much awake. “Yeah?” He leaned in closer. “You’d want to do it all with me?” The voice was hushed even though there was no one else around. 
Tonight was full of surprises, it seemed, when the girl got up from the couch and made the move to straddle his lap. His hand was quick to wrap around her to make sure she didn’t fall, but his body burned as she ran a hand through his hair and he tilted it up to look at her. They’d never been this close before and he was already growing in his pants, making him shiver as she leaned down to brush her nose against his. “Yeah. I’d like to go on a date with you, too but…” she took a moment to rub it against his own, back and forth. Making his eyes hood a bit as his arm shifted to pull her closer to him, desperate for the contact. “I want you to fuck me, first. Make me cum harder than the other girl did. I want to make those noises, H.” She whispered. 
Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Not when she was sitting right on his lap, presenting herself like the perfect little present. Willing and eager for the taking. Leaning himself up, he caught her lips in a gentle kiss. Trying to pace himself, though he could feel the self control slipping from his grip as she hummed into his mouth. This was he shit he had been dying for, feeling her fingers slip from his hair to the back of his neck as he pulled apart to take a breath. “I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart. Anything.” 
Back again their lips were attached. It wasn’t as gentle, no, not when she kissed him harder. He was going to give into anything she wanted. Not only because he had fucked up, but because he wanted to make her happy. He was desperate to please her, to make her feel as good as she possibly could and he wanted to be the one responsible for it. 
Their kissing escalated quickly, groaning as she easily opened her mouth for him and even more so when she sucked on his tongue, making arousal zip up his spine. He’d never expect her to kiss like this, not in the slightest. The expectation had been soft and hesitant, but she was giving him the kisses in his wet dreams. His hand found her ass, palming over it before giving a squeeze, making a moan muffle against his mouth. “Take me to your room.” She whispered against his lips. “Please, H. Just take me there. I want these off.” Fingers tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. 
Who was he to deny her? 
He helped her toss it off before grabbing her and standing up, chuckling when she squeaked his name and scrambled to hold on to him with her arms around his neck. “Said I’d give you whatever you wanted, love.” 
The walk there was short, but it took an even shorter time to get her on his bed with her top off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, much to his surprise and delight. The fabric was tossed to the side of his bed as his pupils dilated, looking down at her topless body. Something he had been dreaming about for ages, and here she was. Sitting pretty in his sheets, hair messy and lips swollen from kissing him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He drawled, running his hands down her sides. “So beautiful. Y’know that? Drives me fucking mad.” His fingers were greedy, crawling back up to her collarbones and back down to the curves of her breasts. “Been dying to see you.”
Y/N took his wrists, guiding his hands to cup her breasts. She was impatient and that much was obvious, but it made him amused more than anything else. His eager girl. “Touch me. Please.” Her eyes matched the pleading in her voice, making him smile. This sort of begging he’d never expected from her, not with her usual strong will and blunt demeanor but he couldn’t say he hated it. 
“I’m going to, lovely. It’s all I want to do.” He soothed, thumbing across her nipples. She arched into it, letting out a soft sound as he did so. It seemed like once the wall had cracked, it was deteriorating quickly right in front of his eyes. He’d be the one to get to see her like this now after pining for it, and he knew she would be the best. Anyone else had been filler, as cruel as it sounded. He was respectful towards them, honest about only wanting to hook up once, because he knew that no matter how hard he tried to imagine nothing would beat he real thing. 
And he’d been right. 
No one else affected him so quickly, so intensely. Watching her mouth fall open as he moved to pinch both of her nipples lightly and tug, she whimpered into the air and gave him a look he wanted to commit to memory. He wanted to see that face every time he closed his eyes. 
“My lovely girl… don’t need to beg me to touch you, because you know I will… but.” He leaned down to kiss her again. “I do like the sound of your voice while you beg for me.” 
His hands moved from her breasts regretfully, clicking his tongue to hush her whine of protest as he hooked his fingers into her lounge pants. Pulling them down, he was met with a beautiful picture- a filthy one. His eyes shot to hers, narrowing slightly. “No fucking panties either? Y/N.” He hissed between his teeth. “Are you always walkin’ around like this? Nothing on underneath?” She nodded quickly, kicking the pants off of her ankles. 
“Hate them.” The girl huffed. “So constricting. I don’t wear them when I don’t have to.” 
His eyes closed for a moment, groaning at the information. “So every time you’ve been sitting there with me, watching one of those movies… I could have slipped my hand down your shorts and felt how wet you get for me?” He questioned, looking down at her. His fingers tugged at his belt, tossing it haphazardly as his eyes stayed pinned to hers as he continued undressing. “You’re telling me…. You prance around here in those little cotton shorts, and you’re bare under them? Could have just… tugged them down and gotten to see that pretty pussy?”
“Mhm.” She grinned, liking the reaction she was getting. “Everything you said. I don’t usually wear them at home.” Her fingers dragged down her stomach, stopping at the mound right above her cunt. “Makes it easier when I want to touch myself, too. Less layers.” 
Harry took a deep breath, watching her hand as it slipped further down to cover her cunt. It was wet, there no was no hiding it. He could see it clearly, and his cock was aching to bury itself in there and let it squeeze every drop of cum from him. He tried to collect himself as he looked down at her, watching her fingers spread herself open for a moment before swirling over her clit with a whimper. 
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, a dark look on his face. “Not yet. That’s my job tonight.” He warned, falling to his knees in front of her. Clad just in his briefs, he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her close to him, so close that he could almost taste her. Instead, he kissed her inner thighs. Soft, sweet. Gentle in the way he had always wanted to be with her before her fucked her and made her hopefully as addicted to him as he knew he was going to be to her. “You okay with this, love? Tell me you want me to have you.” Lips pressed on the soft mound above her cunt. “Tell me I can.” 
“Please, I’m okay. I want you to have me, you can do anything you want. Just… touch me. Please, H.” Her hips tried to move up and catch his mouth, Y/N showing no sign of embarrassment as she did so. He felt a surge of pride, knowing she wanted him that badly. Her body was perfect for him, every dip and curve and scar soon to be memorized. He’d call off of work tomorrow to spend the day in bed with her, pampering and spoiling not only herself, but his innermost desires. 
“Such good manners.” He cooed, shifting her closer as he took his first lick. “Remember what I said about begging, yeah?” 
It was all bets off. Y/N could barely breathe as she felt his mouth on her. Slowly licking up her and tongue finding her clit, flicking over it and repeating the process. His hand held her lower tummy, keeping her still as he continued. Her breathing was already picking up when he felt his tongue dip into her, making her grip fall from her own thighs to his hair. “Oh my god, Harry. That-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence as he did it again, nuzzling into her without a care in the world.
It was true. He wanted his face messy and wet with her, wanted to bury himself in there and feel her stomach jump as his hand held her down. He was tasting her directly from the source. “Taste so good.” He mumbled against her. “My favorite thing to taste now. You know that?” He took another broad sweep of his tongue, looking into her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit on her clit. He smirked at the little gasp she let out, head dipping back down to spread it over her cunt as she began to move her hips to chase his tongue. “No, baby. None of that. Stay still for me.” He coaxed, pressing down harder on her stomach to pin her to the bed. 
Y/N tried, she really did. But it felt so good, so fucking amazing- and then he added his fingers into the mix. Slipping one in slowly, she let out a noise she didn’t recognize. Of course she knew this was going to feel good, but she vastly underestimated how crazy he was going to make her. “Harry please… fuck.” Truthfully? She didn’t even know what she was begging for. Her mouth fell open again and she arched her back as she felt his mouth over her clit, sucking in in messily while his finger fucked into her. It was impossible to stay still. “Harry, more. I want more, please, I’m gonna cum if you….” She lost her train of thought when he added another finger. 
The man was eating this up. Watching her as she tried to keep still for him but feeling her fingers curl in his hair and press him further against her clit, he sucked harded the more she pushed. Finding a good rhythm as his pulsing sucking had her panting, toes curling into the sheet as he continued the pleasure filled torture. He wanted to feel her cum on his tongue. 
“Cum.” He ordered. “Do it for me, precious girl. C’mon.” He finally allowed her to move, rubbing herself on his face as his fingers fucked and curled into her, his mouth latched to her puffy, swollen clit. She felt crazy, she was sure of it, writhing on the mattress as the heat crawled up her body. His eyes were directly on her, hot and dark while she felt herself fall over the edge. 
“Harry- Harry, oh my fucking god.” She couldn’t breathe, repeating his name like it was air as she fell over the edge. White hot pleasure washing over her, orgasm soaking his face as he pulled up and kissed her hard. Her body still shook as he pulled himself out of his briefs and began to push in, feeling her still orgasming pussy quivering around him. “You just- please.” Her eyes opened frantically, fingers finding his back as she pulled him in. Legs wrapped around his waist as he sunk in deeper, filling her up in ways she hadn’t felt before. 
“I know, baby. I know.” He cooed. “You feel… so good around me. Just let me in.” He cupped her face, pressing soft kisses to her mouth. “I’m going to take you all fucking night. You know that?” His voice was a deeper tone than she’d even heard him with the other girl. Feeling it directed at her only amplified the arousal. “Not going to last long, feeling you and taste you… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Almost came just licking you out.” He told the truth. Y/N was perfect, he thinks. Exactly what he needed. 
“I want it all.” She replied, pulling his face down further to kiss him deeper. “So much. I want you to do anything to me. Just…” her legs tugged him in deeper, making them both groan. “Just fuck me, Harry. It’s me this time.” It boosted her ego to know he had been searching for her this entire time. “It’s not someone you have to pretend with. You’ve wanted me this whole time? Show me.” Her nails dragged down his back, making him shiver. “Fuck me like you own me.”
Something in that triggered something in him, something he’d been hiding all along. Kissing her hard to shut her up, he slid out of her to ram back in. Jolting her, she cried out against his lips as he did it again. Hard thrusts paired with a grind at the end, pulling out slowly only to repeat it. She’d never been fucked like this- so purposefully. “Yes- like that, H.” The girl whimpered. “Please. Use me. Have me.” 
“Yeah? You want to be mine?” He asked, wild eyes looking into her own as he pressed his forehead against hers, not caring about the stickiness of their sweat. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to be wrapped up by your cunt? Hm?” He spoke against her lips, smiling drunkenly as she whimpered with his intent thrusts. “Since I first saw you. Wanted to drag you to your bed and fill you up. Make you cry for me. And every day since… It's been growing.” The desire for her has grown to something he hadn’t ever thought possible. It was hard to ignore. Thank god he never had to ignore it again. “Every day, I thought about pulling you into my arms and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. You think anyone else could ever compare to you?” He shook his head to answer his own question. “No. No one. Not anyone I’ve taken home, not the girl from the other day… no one has made me feel as good as this.” 
Harry had always loved sex, but when he met Y/N and developed the attraction and then feelings for her, he’d been chasing a high that couldn’t be provided by anyone else. This, this was exactly what he needed. “Need to stay inside of you, sweet girl. Need to… fuck.” Some hair fell into his face as his thrusts sped up just slightly. It was hard to think when her walls were contracting around him, so slick and hot that it made him dizzy. “Need to cum in you and do it again… and again.” He knew she was on birth control considering he’d gone with her to get the implant. They were safe, but that didn’t stop him for perhaps wishing it wasn’t. “Just want to make you mine, my sweet fucking girl….” His head lulled forward as he looked down to watch them. 
It was a filthy sight. His bare cock pulling out, glistening with her arousal and mess. Her cunt stretching open, her lips puffy and wet just for him. He was doing this. He was filling her up, he was making her cling to him, and he was finally inside the one person he’d never thought he could have. “Look at how good we are together. Look with me, baby.” He pulled her up slightly, holding the back of her neck to let her see the filthy sight. His prick spreading her while the wet, puffy lips of her cunt as he filled her. “Touch yourself. Rub that clit for me.” 
Y/N did as requested, finding it quickly as she watched the now slower thrusts inside of her. It made her smug, really. Knowing that he was this enthralled with her. Also, the knowledge that he was losing his mind far more over her than he had the other girl. He was obsessed with her and she could visibly see it. 
“There we go.Pretty, pretty fucking girl. You’re all I want. This body, that mouth, S’all I dream about. Just want you in my bed, want to get rid of those damn rules so I can take you on every damn surface… please let me, angel. Please.” He pleaded. “No more rules. Only want you.”
“No more rules.” She nodded, finding the pleasure building back up. Her hand rubbing her already sensitive and puffy clit, watching as her arousal began to make a creamier mess on his cock, she was in awe of how perfect they looked together. “H… you’re gonna make me cum.” 
Harry smiled, a real smile that took her breath away. “Thank god. I’m trying to hold on for you, but m’so close.” He let her lay back down, leaning over her and speeding the pace back up as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. It was hard to focus on one thing when he’d been dying for this situation for a year. He had his dream girl wrapped around his cock. 
Fingers found his hair again as she arched into his mouth, mewling as he sucked over her nipple and fucked into her at a steady speed. He was hitting right where he needed to, her fingers rubbing circles on her clit. It was messy and wet and so perfect, it was hard to keep herself together. “Please.” She whined. “Please, can I cum? Let me cum, I need to. I want you in me and I want to feel your cum inside me, mark me, make me yours.” She pleaded, feeling him pull off her other nipple with a pant.
“Don’t have to hold back from me. M’gonna go right after you, just want you to feel good. Let go for me, my good girl. I’m yours, always have been. You’re already mine.” His nose brushed hers, moving her hand to take over rubbing her clit. He did it faster, a bit more pressure and that little difference with his permission was all it took for her to let go.
Harry felt it as she did. The pulsing of her cunt, the slickness growing and the way her mouth went lax, not able to kiss but only breath him in as she tumbled into the pleasure. Her legs tightened around him, nails digging into the back of his neck as her eyes fell closed, the prettiest moan vibrated against his lips. 
It pushed him right off the edge with her. Thrusts growing sloppy, he didn’t lighten up with his hand as he felt her contracting around him, sopping wet and tight for him as he felt his balls tighten and unload into her. His deep groan was loud, louder than he’d anticipated as he kissed her to try and muffle it. He could feel himself throbbing as her cunt sucked him in, greedy for it as the pulsating of her walls drew each ribbon of cum into her. She was coated, and he underestimated just how much he had as it began to spill out of her as he filled her to the brim. 
“Oh my god.” He whispered. “Fuck me, baby. You’re perfect.” It was a bit of disbelief that coated his tone. Lips fell all over her face, pressing soft pecks over her cheeks, her chin, nose, eyelids, forehead, everywhere he could get it as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. It was the hardest he’d ever came, and he still felt shaky from it as he stayed buried in her. Where he belonged. Y/N melted under the kisses, smiling wide as her eyes peeled open to look at him. Dark eyes and flushed face, messy hair she continued to drag her fingertips into. One fell from the softness, cupping his chin and pulling it back to her mouth for a proper kiss. It seemed to make him melt as well, sagging slightly on top of her despite being mindful of his weight on her body. 
Harry knew this was the start of something much bigger than either of them could have anticipated- and it all started because of his silly mistake. He’d finally gotten the one he wanted. No more pretending with anyone else. He had the real thing at home. 
Y/N nudged his nose with hers, feeling so many things her head felt overwhelmed. But the most important question had to be asked. “So. When can we do it again?”
2K notes · View notes
gucciwins · 4 months
Text
Y/N just wants Harry to like her.
Word count: 5964
A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.
Now happy reading! I love you
+
Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.
Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 
She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 
There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 
Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 
Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 
Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 
Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 
Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 
Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 
The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.
 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 
Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.
Bowling. Too loud. 
It seems there was an excuse for everything.
Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.
The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 
They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  
Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 
“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 
No answer. 
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 
He fidgets with his fork. 
“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 
Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 
“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 
Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 
With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 
One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 
“Any good?”
Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 
Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 
He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”
Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 
The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 
“What’s this one about?”
“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 
Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 
“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 
“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.
Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 
“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”
He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 
“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”
+
Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.
“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 
Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 
“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 
“Where to?” He asks curiously. 
She silently cheers, “Iceland.”
“Is that your dog?” 
“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”
“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 
Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”
Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”
Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 
Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”
He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.
+
September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.
It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 
“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 
“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 
Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.
“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”
“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.
Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 
Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 
The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 
Enjoy - HS
Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 
“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 
Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 
“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 
Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 
“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 
“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 
Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 
Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 
“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 
“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 
“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 
After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 
“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.
“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”
Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 
“It can just be too much sometimes.”
“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 
“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 
“See you in a bit then.”
+
Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 
Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 
Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.
“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 
Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 
Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”
He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 
“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.
“Everyone is going?”
“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”
Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”
“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 
“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.
Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 
“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”
She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 
+
The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 
Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.
It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.
“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.
“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 
Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 
Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 
Harry likes Y/N.
It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 
“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 
“I did,” he answers. 
“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 
Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 
“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 
Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”
He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”
Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”
Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 
Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 
“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 
“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.
“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 
“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 
They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 
“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.
Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 
“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 
“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”
The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.
Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 
Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 
“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.
She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 
“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 
They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.
“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 
And so they continue on. 
The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 
While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 
Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 
To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 
“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 
“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 
“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 
“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 
“Hozier.” 
“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 
“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 
“As do you.” 
The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 
Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.
As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.
“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 
“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 
Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 
Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 
Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 
“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 
He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 
“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”
“By all means, lead the way.” 
After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 
The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 
“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 
Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 
Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 
Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 
He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.
“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 
“Let me walk you up.” 
Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 
“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 
“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 
“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.
Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 
She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”
Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.
She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 
“Ask me,” he pleads. 
“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 
Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 
She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 
When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 
Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.
“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 
“Too far.
Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 
“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 
“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 
Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 
Harry can’t say no.
+
Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 
“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 
“Morning,” he answers timidly. 
Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 
Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”
“A date?” He echoes. 
“With me,” she giggles.
“Best thing I've heard all day.”
Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 
“How does this weekend sound?” 
“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 
“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 
“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 
“Yes, love?” 
Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 
Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 
Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.
1K notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 11 months
Text
Love Me*
Summary: The fifth and final part to Teach Me*
You and your best friend Harry have a few things to figure out.
So, why not figure them out while you're riding his face?
Word Count: 8.1k
*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!*
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“Watermelon.”
Instantly, you go deathly still, muscles straining as the word echoes around the walls of your mind. Repeating itself over, and over, and over.
You attempt to sit up, but he doesn’t let you. He keeps his arms around you like a vice, caging you against his chest as his heart races beneath your cheek.
“What’s wrong?” you whisper, a certain ringing in your ears that won’t quiet. “What is it, what’s wrong?”
Somehow, his touch constricts even tighter, snaking around your ribcage as if to suffice as his reply.
“Harry?” you ask a bit louder, and you feel him stiffen at the sudden volume. “Harry, what’s wrong?”
He’s quiet. Far too quiet as his chin meets the crown of your head. 
“Harry,” you stress for a third time. “What happened? What is it? If you’re gonna use your safe word, you have to tell me—”
“Nothing,” he breathes, fingers digging into the skin on your side. Bracing himself from the truth. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Never mind?” you nearly gasp as he finally lets go, allowing you to scramble upright. “Harry…you can’t say that and then never mind—”
“I didn’t mean to say it,” he mumbles, meeting your eye for only a moment before his lashes flutter and he looks off into the bedroom. “I just…I forgot. It’s nothing. Everything’s fine, okay? Just forget it.”
He pushes himself up as you climb off the bed, but your attention never leaves him. Studying his expression closely to find the real answer. 
“Harry…” you venture cautiously, and again, you catch the way he hesitates. “If I did something—”
“No.” His answer is instantaneous, head shaking once before he looks up. “No. I told you, it’s fine. Really—”
“It can’t be fine if you said it—”
“Well, I didn’t mean to—”
“How can you not have meant to? What were you trying to say? Nothing else really sounds like watermelon—”
“Just…forget it, okay?” he sighs as he stands up and reaches for his boxers. “What’s the opposite of watermelon? I’ll say that.”
“Harry,” you huff for the hundredth time. “You…look, if there’s something we need to talk about—”
“There’s not.” The conviction in his voice is final as he proceeds to slip his shirt back on. 
You’re slow to do the same, shimmying back into your clothes while also trying to maintain his focus. “We agreed that this only worked if we talked to each other. If we trusted each other—”
“This has nothing to do with trust, Bee,” he insists as he glances over at you. “I told you, it’s fine—”
“It’s not fine.” You nearly want to whine at his stubbornness. You’ve known him long enough to understand his little tricks. His tells. The way he avoids confrontation.
The way he avoids how he really feels.
“It is,” he says again, now brushing past you toward the door. “Okay? So…please. Just forget it.”
“I can’t forget it,” you argue as you follow him to the kitchen. “It’s a safe word for a reason. It means that you can say it and feel safe. That you can tell me what’s wrong, and what you’re thinking—”
“I don’t—” he begins before his eyes squeeze together and his jaw clamps shut. “I’m thinking I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Okay? I just…I wanna drop it. So let’s drop it.”
You watch as he braces himself against the kitchen sink, hands gripping onto the tub as he leans back and aims his glare at the floor.
And it hurts. It hurts to go from happily content in his arms to anxiously dejected a few feet away.
It hurts to know that there’s clearly something wrong that he refuses to share. Hurts to know you can’t help. Even after everything.
You taught him how to touch you.
But not how to talk to you.
You straighten up. “Fine,” you agree. “Fine, we’ll drop it.”
“Thank you.”
The small space falls quiet as you do your best to ignore the ever-present ringing in your ears.
Dropping it doesn’t fix it.
But you don’t know what else to do.
“I think…I think I’m gonna go,” you whisper, already taking a step back.
His head lifts, lips parting as he watches you move away from him. “Oh…okay.”
Despite it all, you wish he’d ask you to stay.
After retrieving your things from his room, you head for the door to his apartment, your heart dragging behind you on the floor.
He doesn’t move from his spot. He doesn’t chase after you or try to explain. He watches you walk away from him as if he always expected you to.
You pause to glance over your shoulder and find him. To offer him one last chance. “Harry?”
“…yeah?”
You take a deep breath. “Do you regret it now?”
You half expected his answer to come as quickly as the others.
But this one doesn’t.
This one seems to catch in his throat as his expression falls. “…I don’t know.”
And that tells you everything.
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You don’t hear from Harry for three days.
He doesn’t text you. You don’t text him.
He doesn’t call you. You don’t call him.
You’re not trying to be petty. You’re not even trying to punish him, you’re just…
Confused.
You and Harry don’t fight. Not once in the fifteen years that you’ve known each other.
Sometimes you’ll get into spats. Or heated arguments. But you don’t ice each other out. You don’t resort to games and the silent treatment.
If that’s even what this is.
You knew opening this door in your friendship would make it impossible to close.
And now, it’s letting in a draft.
And after everything you felt with him, after everything you realized…
Having him so far away, so distant…makes you feel empty.
Incomplete.
As if there’s a missing piece to your puzzle.
You allow yourself to wonder if he’s simply learned all that he’s needed to learn from you. If he’s ready to be a good partner for Tina, and ready to resume just a platonic, non-sexual friendship with you.
Which you’d be more than okay with.
Really.
You would.
You’d have to be.
Because you don’t want to know what happens…if you wouldn’t.
So, you shove all thoughts of Harry and his lessons away. You reject each memory of his hands, and his lips, and his body, and his cock.
And you continue on with your life. You revert back to the way it was before, when it was just you and your vibrator.
But nothing is ever that simple, and you should have anticipated that even before there was a frantic knock on your door.
Confused, you toss your throw blanket aside and stand from the couch.
And when you swing the door open, you find Harry. Standing in your hallway. Slightly out of breath and wearing a curious expression on his face.
Kind of like the day he asked to eat you out.
The rush of deja vu almost overwhelms you as you blink at him. “…uh, hi?”
“Hi.” His greeting is as rushed as his gasp for air, as if he ran all the way up the five flights of stairs. 
“What…are you doing here?” you ask hesitantly, letting your eyes trail down his body, cautiously looking for an explanation.
There’s a pause as he seems to study you back before he straightens up and takes a step forward.
“I’m finishing the list,” he exhales before seizing your face between his hands and kissing you.
You don’t have time to grasp onto the concept of his lips as he walks you backward toward the wall, kicking the door shut on his way in.
And he takes. Exactly the way he had before. He takes and he savors, and he owns. He says everything with this one kiss. Everything you know he can never say aloud.
Everything.
You don’t fight him on it. You probably should. Should probably stop him and ask him what he’s doing. Ask him what happened, what changed.
But maybe you don’t wanna know what’s changed. Maybe you’re just grateful it did.
So, you kiss him back. You kiss him, and you whisper his name, and you let your hands scratch down the back of his neck.
And you revel in the way he groans. In the way he drags his teeth down your throat to freshen up the already fading marks from the time before.
Then, his fingers trail down your arm to latch onto your wrist. And he tugs. Tugs you away from the wall he had pressed against so he can drag you toward your room.
“What are you doing?” you murmur as you scramble after him, an excited shiver traveling down your spine.
“You’re gonna sit on my face,” he declares, practically slinging you toward the bed. “Gonna sit on my fucking face and let me taste you.”
Your ass meets the mattress as he towers above. And despite how enthralled the idea has you…you pause. “Harry…I don’t know if that’s—”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he interrupts, leaning down to press his palms to the bed, caging you between his arms. “I don’t wanna talk, I don’t want to overthink…I just want you to sit on my face.”
Your lashes flutter. “Harry—”
“No,” he repeats. He offers a single shake of his head. “No. You said this is about trust, right?”
“Right, but—”
“So trust me,” he whispers, dipping closer until the tip of his nose brushes against yours. “Trust me when I say it’s fine. Trust me…when I say the only thing I want…is to have you ride my tongue.”
And right now as you stare at him, and feel him, and inhale him…you have no other choice but to trust him, too.
“Okay,” you breath, already desperate to have him touch you. Hold you. Remind you why it felt so right in the first place.
“Okay?” he checks, the corner of his mouth curling up in a pleased smile.
You nod. “Okay. I trust you.”
And he’s overcome with exhilaration as he grabs onto the back of your neck to bring your mouth to his.
It’s only been two minutes—tops. But you’d missed his kisses. Missed having his lips on yours. Missed the way he completely owned you. 
Missed the way he made you his.
He guides you onto your back, laying you against the mattress comfortably while allowing him the room to crawl on top of you.
And his frantic touches follow you all the way down, his nimble fingers dancing up your shirt until they can find your bare chest.
You gasp into his bottom lip as he takes you into his palm, effortlessly and expertly caressing you until you’re arching into his touch. 
He groans when he feels you. Takes pleasure in having you. Getting to hold you the way he is now. Explore you.
His knee makes a home against your cunt, pressing into you subtly, as if to jumpstart the process. And you squirm against it, lungs aching for air as you tangle your hands in his curls.
And for a moment, you both simply enjoy. Enjoy this rather innocent connection. This innocent sensation of your bodies finding a rhythm together. This harmonious link between your body and his.
Then, he scoops his arm beneath your hips and rolls you both over.
Your knees meet the bed, one on each side of his waist as you brace yourself against his chest.
He grins lazily but he’s far too focused on the task at hand. So, he curls his fingers around your sleep shorts and begins to pull them down. 
There’s a bit of awkward shifting and rearranging that follows as you help him toss them aside.
But once they’re off, his palms wrap around the backs of your thighs, and he brings you closer.
You’ve ridden a face before. Have quite enjoyed it, in fact.
But Harry…Harry isn’t just someone. Harry is…Harry.
And riding Harry’s face is a lot different than riding his thigh.
But he doesn’t give you a moment to think about that. And you’re almost positive he knows you are.
Because he shoots you this look of warning before tugging you closer to him, forcing your knees to scuffle a bit closer until you’re exactly where he wants you.
You take hold of the headboard to brace yourself, already tingling from where his fingertips are pressing into your skin.
And you can feel him breathing against you. Soft, chaste kisses being trailed along your inner thigh as he travels his way up. 
He might be new at this, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. At least when it comes to you, and you could almost smile at his attention to detail.
“Relax for me, Bee,” he instructs, nose bumping your clit as your breath hitches. “Come on, it’s all right. Just relax and let me taste you.”
You try to do as instructed, allowing yourself to sink down a bit closer. 
But the moment he drags his tongue through your arousal, you suck in a sharp breath and straighten up.
“Bee,” he growls, hands already pulling you back down. A bit harder than he had before.
“I’m sorry,” you gasp, lids growing heavy as the lust-induced haze begins to wash over you. “M’sorry, just don’t…don’t wanna hurt you—”
“And what did I fucking say about that?” he nearly snaps. “Hurt me. Fucking suffocate me, if you have to. Sit on my goddamn face until I can’t breathe.”
“Harry,” you whisper, eyes screwing shut as he repeats his previous action. “I don’t…I can’t—”
The sharp smack to your ass makes your head drop back. It’s loud, and it’s firm, and it stings more than his previous spanking.
But it’s fucking amazing.
“I’m not gonna tell you again,” he warns. “You’re gonna ride my fucking tongue until I’ve had enough. Is that understood?”
You feel yourself clench around nothing from the dominant tone of voice. Nails already scratching down the wood of your headboard as you try to find the strength to speak.
There’s another zealous slap to your skin, his palm painting your body red with salacious intentions. “Answer me, baby girl.”
“Yes,” you whine. “Yes, I understand.”
“That’s my girl,” he hums, lips ghosting your cunt as he speaks. “You do what I say. Go where I tell you to go. Let me put you exactly where I fucking want you.”
And to prove this point, he tugs on your hips until your pussy meets his mouth.
And suddenly everything makes sense.
It’s fucking magic the way he treats you. The way he tastes you. The way he covers his tongue in your need for him. 
He sucks and he swallows, and he pulls you so far down onto him that you’re surprised you don’t disappear into him.
But it’s…
Everything.
The only concept you truly understand in this moment. Him and his mouth and this endless desire to take. To have.
And you let him. Let him have you. Let him roll you over his tongue as he laps at you like he’s an animal.
“Harry,” you breathe for a second time, legs shaking from beside his head. “Fuck…please—”
Another spank lands firmly against your outer thigh. You can’t tell if this is to please you or to punish you, but either way…you enjoy it.
You swallow another curse as you surrender to his instructions, allowing yourself to be guided even further down.
“That’s it,” he says before nipping at your clit with his teeth. “Knew you liked it. Knew you needed me to take care of you, didn’t you?”
Your whimper comes from deep in the back of your throat as you let one hand travel down to his hair.
And when you scratch at his scalp with bliss, he smiles.
“Oh, you did,” he answers for you. “Needed someone to make it better. Needed someone to do it right.”
And those stories you used to tell him about Eric come rushing back as you’re reminded of all the ways he’d never been able to get you off.
And the way Harry has done nothing but get you off since the moment you started.
 “Don’t you?” he pushes, clearly wanting to hear your confirmation, and you’re not surprised he has a praise kink. “Fucking needed me—”
“Yes,” you tell him. “Yes, always needed you—”
Another slap. “That’s right. Know you do. Know you need someone to make you feel so fucking good. Make you come the way you deserve. Make you see fucking stars—”
You cry out something resembling his name as his fingers begin to scrape down your legs. Forcing you impossibly closer. Forcing you to give him everything.
And he’s relentless. You truly cannot fathom anything besides the feel of his lips on your pussy or the way he holds you over his face or even the way he speaks to you. The low vibrations dancing right up the back of your spine.
Your mind is blank. Filled with nothing but images and feelings and ideas. Of the pleasure barreling toward you at an alarming rate. At the way he’s been working on you for only a few minutes but already you’re at the mercy of his objective. 
“Please, please, please.” The word drips from your mouth like falling rain. Over, and over, and over. You can’t do anything else but beg. Beg him to keep going, beg him to go harder, beg him to never stop.
“So fucking good,” he murmurs, tongue driving inside before curling. Beckoning your release closer. “Aren’t you, baby girl? So fucking good for me—”
You nod, lip between your teeth as you chew. 
“Make me so happy,” he says, nails clawing at the base of your spine. “Don’t you? Make Daddy so proud—”
“Shit—” Your forehead finds the headboard as you tug on his curls. It’s almost too much. Yet somehow not enough. “Harry—”
“Uh-uh,” he tuts, guiding you up as your chest just about caves in. “No. Try again.”
“Har—”
“Try again.”
Your eyes roll, half from the pleasure but mostly from the pain of his annoyance before you oblige. “Daddy…please.”
He doesn’t answer with words, instead forcing you back down to continue his ministrations. 
He knows you’re close. You know he knows. And his desire to get you there is power in itself. 
Because even after everything, even after fighting, even after years of friendship and dad jokes…he wants to take care of you.
Wants to give you exactly what you deserve.
So…he does.
The sound of his name on your tongue is dissolute and depraved. Needy and pathetic and filled with the kind of yearning you yourself don’t even understand.
But you welcome the relief with open arms. Welcome the way he holds onto you as he swallows the rush that follows.
And he fucking groans. In a similarly desperate way that nearly doubles the length of your orgasm. 
He’s never sounded so content. So satisfied and pleased. And you do feel good. Feel so good to have made him so proud. To have been the reason for this eager agreeance. 
But then…he doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t stop, even after you’ve attempted to squirm up and away from his continued attempts. Even after you’ve whined, “Harry,” and scratched a little harder on his scalp.
He keeps going.
“Har,” you sigh, already too sensitive to form a cohesive thought. “Har…s’okay…I came—”
“I know,” he says simply, palms pressing into your side to keep you exactly where you are. “And you’re gonna come again.”
“Harry,” you gasp, almost as if shocked by the very idea. “Har, I…s’too—”
“What?” His tongue flattens against your cunt before dragging up toward your clit. “Overstimulation was on your list, right?”
Your lashes flutter rapidly as you rest one hand back on the headboard. “I’m…yes…yeah—"
“Then you’re gonna come for me again,” he informs you. “And again. And again, until I’ve decided you’re done.”
And you want to argue. Wanted to tell him that you’re exhausted but you can already feel the next one on its way.
Because he’s speaking to you in that familiarly aggressive way that makes your heart pound. That makes your skin erupt into goosebumps and your brain turn to mush.
God, his voice. His voice alone could do damage. Could tip you over the edge a hundred times. He could be whispering the fucking alphabet and you’d be putty in his hands.
And maybe it shouldn’t be so easy to turn you so submissive, but you’ll happily do as he asks as long as he keeps asking you in that voice.
As long as he keeps telling you that your pleasure is his. That you…are his.
Nobody else exists outside of this room. Not Eric. Not Tina. Not any future lovers or partners.
Not even any consequences.
Right now, in this room…it’s just you.
The second one doesn’t hit as hard as the first, but it still knocks you off-kilter, forcing you to shake within his hold.
But he keeps you steady. In more ways than one. He makes sure you don’t have the room or space to crawl off him, or even think about takingyour pussy away from his greedy search.
“Harry,” you mewl, pulling so hard on his curls that it has to hurt. “Please…please—”
You aren’t sure if you’re asking him to stop or let you come again, but either way, he pursues the third one. 
And this time…he adds his hand.
After repositioning you just so, he easily slips two fingers inside, meeting your g-spot almost instantly. 
You nearly go blind from how good it feels, how hard it hits you. From how happy you are to find relief in his arms.
The third is kinder to you. Shorter but much more intense. Like a burst of pure adrenaline and euphoria. 
It almost hurts when you finally begin to unwind, and his movements start to slow. He must be able to tell you don’t have too much left to offer and you appreciate the way he eases out of you with great care.
He helps shuffle you back until you can collapse onto the bed beside him. But he doesn’t let you go too far, one arm wrapping around your shoulders to help cement you into his side.
Your leg tangles between the two of his while your face buries into his neck. You’re spent. Physically and emotionally. But he allows you a moment to rest, fingers stroking your skin gently to help bring you back to him.
“You okay?” he murmurs, turning his head so his lips can meet your forehead. “S’it too much?”
“No,” you breathe, eyes falling closed as you inhale the comforting scent of his cologne. “No, it was good. A little confusing…but good.”
And you know he knows what you mean.
But still, he chooses not to respond. Chooses not to offer any sort of insight into what happened that day in his room.
Instead, his arm pulls you closer. “Well…did we cover everything? Is there anything left to check off?”
Your head rolls back so you can see him, the idea already taking root in your mind. “I can think of one more thing…if you’re up for it.”
His eyebrow raises.
You smile. “Pegging.”
He leans back, eyes growing wide. “Really?”
“Yeah. But…only if you were actually serious about that,” you correct as you begin to sit up. “Most guys are a little hesitant about it, and I guess I get why. So…if you don’t think that’s something you’d really be—”
“I’d be honored if you’d fuck me.”
You blink. “Really?”
“Really.” His hand comes up to brush a fallen hair behind your ear, touch lingering on your cheek as he studies you. “I know you’d do it right.”
You grin. “I’m flattered you have so much confidence in me.”
“I do,” he agrees softly, thumb sweeping across your jaw. “Of course I do. You should know that.”
But you don’t know that. Not after what he said last time.
And the reminder of your previous argument makes you hesitate. “You need to really think about what you’re agreeing to, Har. Because if you don’t like it, and you want to stop…I need to know that you’ll tell me. I need to know that you trust me enough to tell me what you need.”
His brows pull together, lips quickly falling into a frown as his hand drops to his chest. “You know I trust you—”
“Do I?”
His tongue comes out to run over his bottom lip. “I promise. I trust you. I want to do this. I want to try it. With you.”
“Har—”
“If I don’t like it, I’ll say something. I promise,” he continues. “But I won’t know if I like it or not until I try. And you should always try everything at least once, right?”
You huff. “Yeah, but—”
“Come on…don’t you wanna fuck me?” he teases, gingerly nudging you with his elbow. “I’ll be such a good boy, I swear.”
And you groan at the playful way he speaks, already feeling much better about the proposition. “God. See? This is why I think you’re annoying.”
“You love me,” he declares as you stand from the bed.
And for some reason, your stomach tightens. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You gonna sit there all day or are you gonna strip?”
Instantly, he perks up, watching you closely as you rummage through your nightstand. “What, I have to take my clothes off by myself? You’re not gonna help me?”
“Nope.” You glance over and nod your chin at him. “Go on. Be a good boy.”
This time, he rolls his eyes as he laughs and begins to undo his pants.
As he begins to undress, you begin to gather what you’ll need. You locate the bottle of lube and the dildo, heart in your throat as you allow yourself to imagine what’s about to happen.
You don’t know if he’ll truly like it or not. You want him to. Want to give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. As much pleasure as he deserves. 
But…guys are weird about this. And this kind of intimacy goes far behind missionary.
You know what you’re doing. This isn’t your first time exploring the pleasures of a strap-on with a guy. You know you’ll be able to take care of him for as long as he lets you. 
You just…don’t want it to change anything else. You don’t want him to retreat into himself the way he did last time.
You don’t want to lose him.
You can’t.
Once you’re ready, you return to the bed just as he’s peeling his shirt off his chest and tossing it toward the floor.
And you let yourself admire him. Let yourself drink in each tattoo, each scar, each dip of his muscles. 
He is beautiful.
You notice the way he smiles at your admiration before looking down at the items in your lap. “Where, uh…where do you want me?”
You glance over the mattress. “Hands and knees should be good. Just…anywhere you feel comfortable.”
He nods once, swallowing thickly as he steps forward and begins to crawl back onto the bed.
The room is eerily quiet as you both move into position. You hadn’t expected things to feel so…heavy. But you suppose they are. Suppose neither one of you anticipated your adventure leading you here.
But…you don’t exactly mind.
He stills when he’s gotten into position, head dropping as he stares at your duvet and waits for your next instruction.
You clear your throat and reach out to smooth your palm down his spine. He jolts when he feels you but relaxes quickly, exhaling an anxious sigh.
“You okay?” you call softly, continuing the gentle caress to loosen him up. 
He nods again. “Yeah. Promise. Just…nervous? I guess?”
“I know,” you whisper, settling onto your knees as you dip down to press a kiss to his bare hip. “You still trust me?”
And you can feel the way his entire body goes rigid from your mouth on his skin, his chin meeting his chest. “Yes.”
“Promise?”
“Fucking promise, Bee. Just…”
“Just what?” Your fingers dance toward his ass, ghosting over the curve as you move your kisses toward the middle. “Tell me.”
You’re happy to put him under the same duress he put you earlier, and the way his fists curl around the blanket beneath him makes you smile.
“Bee,” he attempts to warn, but you aren’t having it.
You simply trail your lips down the back of his thigh, and hum, “Come on, Daddy…wanna take care of you. But I can’t until you tell me what you want.”
You can see just how badly he wants to comply, his cock swollen and red. You know that’s mostly thanks to him eating you out and you feel your cheeks warm at the knowledge that it did that to him.
That you did that to him.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” you coo, reaching around to slide your palm down the tip as he hisses and lurches forward. “Poor Daddy…bet it’d feel so good to come, wouldn’t it?”
“Bee…please,” he respires. “Please, just…god, please touch me. M’gonna lose my fucking mind.”
You smile again as you straighten back up and reach for the lube. “See? Was that so hard?”
“Yes.”
Your head shakes. “Mhm. Okay…I’m gonna start with a finger. But I need you to really be—”
“I know,” he whispers. “I know, I’m sure.”
“Okay,” you repeat, equally as soft before you squeeze the liquid into your hand. “Take a deep breath for me.”
He does, the muscles in his arms tensing as the tip of the bottle meets his ass. And when he feels the gel begin to drip down, he reels.
“That’s just the lube, Har,” you tell him, biting back a laugh.
“I know, but it’s cold,” he grumbles as you finish and toss the item aside. 
You give him another moment to unwind before you bring your pointer finger closer…and gingerly slide inside.
You’re more than careful, listening closely for his reaction. It sounds like…relief, but you can’t be sure.
“Har?” you call again, other hand smoothing along his hip to give it a squeeze. 
“M’fine,” he mumbles, once again fisting your duvet. “Promise. Go.”
“Are you—”
“Go,” he stresses before sucking in a quiet breath. “Please, baby. Go. Keep going.”
So, you do. You ease in a bit further until you’re about halfway in, pausing to let him adjust.
He seems to be doing pretty well, despite the way his stomach quivers and his cock twitches. 
And after pumping him once or twice with great care, you push in to the knuckle.
He likes this, a particular groan emitting from his throat as he subtly shifts back into your hand. “Shit, Bee.”
“How’s it feel?”
He takes a moment to think. To find the right words. “Good. Full…I guess.”
“Yeah, and that’s only my finger.”
You hear him make a noise that resembles a laugh before he groans again. “God…please don’t stop. Please…I promise, I’m fine. I just…I…”
“Need more, don’t you?” you answer for him, working the lube in and out as he nods quickly. 
“Yes. Yes…more.”
And who are you to say no?
You pump him a few more times before bringing a second finger into play. Again, you go slow. Making sure to gauge each sound and movement he makes so as to not hurt him. Or catch him off guard. 
But he’s growing desperate. Mindlessly following your thrusts as he grows accustomed to the feeling. As he becomes familiar with the pleasure it brings him.
His jaw drops, hand coming up to his cock to stroke it lazily, needing some sort of friction.
But you reach around and slap it away, tsking as you warn, “Not yet. Not until I’m ready—”
“Bee,” he whines, and the desperate waver in his voice almost guts you.
“Shh. Just one more minute, okay?”
“Please…"
“I know. M’almost ready. Promise.”
He does his best to comply, nodding weakly as he lets his hand drop back down to the bed.
And you feel bad for him, you do. But seeing him so unhinged just about ruins you, and you can feel the way your cunt aches. The way it practically yearns for him, dripping all down your thighs as you continue to work your fingers into him.
And once you’re sure he’s ready…you reach for the dildo.
You’re more than generous with the lube, making sure to keep the experience pleasurable and easy.
And the dildo itself isn’t all that intimidating. Not nearly as big as he is. Average, at best. Perfect for a beginner.
The lack of stimulation makes him restless, and your heart clenches for him as you secure the strap-on around your hips and finally bring the tip back to his glistening hole.
The faint brush of it makes him whimper, and the sound of this confident man coming undone by your hand is what changes everything.
Everything.
It’s music. A goddamn symphony, and you chase the sound by slowly easing the dildo in.
An easy enough task, exactly like you’d hoped.
But he loses it.
The moan is deep and vulgar, echoing off the walls of your bedroom as you squeeze your legs together and press your fingers further into his hip.
“Good,” you hum, dipping down to kiss the base of his spine. “So good, Har. Promise. You okay?”
“Fucking shit,” is his reply. “Shit, shit, shit.”
You smile. “Give me your hand.”
He sluggishly reaches back for you, fingers intertwining with yours when you find him. And it makes your stomach flip but it’s not what you had in mind.
You bring your hands over to his cock, guiding him along the swollen shaft as he instantly ruts into your palm.
“Bee,” he gasps, squeezing both your knuckles and his tip. “Please—”
“I know,” you say again, continuing to work the dildo into him. Slowly at first before you find a steadier rhythm. “I know, doing so good—”
“Shit—”
“That’s it. Just like that. Like when I play with you, don’t you?”
He nods as you both begin to pump him, now matching the pace you've set with your thrusts and the dildo. "Yes...yes. Please don't stop—"
"Won't. Promise," you whisper, kissing down his hip. 
His squirming increases, the one arm holding him up now shaking as he does his best to remain upright. 
But it feels too good. You can see the pleasure written all over the side of his face, and it does fucking wonders for you.
You've never felt more proud to be responsible for his pleasure. To be responsible for making him fall apart the way he is. For showing him exactly what he deserves.
And he takes it. Takes it so fucking well, clutching onto you as you continue to work him closer. 
And he feels so good. So good in your hand. So heavy, and needy, and ready for the release you've promised him.
You want to give him that release more than anything. Want to show him how good it can be. Want to show him the fucking stars.
He yells when he finds it. Your name and about a string of curses, all falling from his tongue one after the other.
He covers your hand, and your bed, and his stomach. And when he collapses, he takes you with him, pulling you down until your chest meets his back.
You imagine this can't be all that comfortable for him, especially with the dildo now halfway out, but he doesn't complain.
He continues to hold onto your wrist as he works to catch his breath.
And you don't fight it.
A minute or two passes before you gently ease the object out, unclip it from your body, and toss it aside.
He hisses at the loss of contact before settling once more, fingers still cemented to your hand.
You know you’ll need to clean up, but he doesn’t seem to have any future plans to do so.
It makes you smile, your cheek pressing into the space between his shoulder blades. His skin hot and slightly sweaty. 
For some reason…it feels good.
“Bee?” he calls quietly, as if not to disrupt the tender moment.
You hum.
“Thank you.”
You let your eyes flutter shut. “Hey, what are friends for?”
A beat.
He tenses. “Yeah…”
Then, the silence returns.
But this time, it’s different.
This time…it’s heavy.
And when he lets go of your hand, you realize it’s not just in your head. 
Things happen quickly. You barely get the chance to roll off of him before he’s sitting up and climbing off the bed. You don’t even have time to ask what changed as he begins reaching for his clothes to re-dress, your heart instantly dropping to your stomach.
“Har…?” you stammer as you awkwardly reach for your underwear. And this rush of deja vu is much more unpleasant than the last. “What…what’s—”
“I gotta go,” he mumbles under his breath, his back to you as he slips his hoodie on. “I forgot. I’ve got…something I’ve gotta do.”
“Oh…” Your chest deflates as you watch him step into his shoes. “What…um, what do you have to do?”
Once he straightens back up, he stills, and you wish you could see his face. “S’not important.”
With that, he heads for your living room, leaving you behind.
And you watch him go, a dumb founded look on your face as he makes his way for the front door.
A hundred and one things instantly run through your mind, from explanations to unpleasant realizations.
But the moment you watch him disappear into the hallway without so much as a glance back, you realize none of it fucking matters.
Just him.
You chase after him, scrambling toward the lobby in hot pursuit as he pushes through the double doors and disappears into the parking lot.
And you’re right behind, slipping out as well as he strides away from you, when you’re suddenly forced to a screeching halt the moment you’re met with a downpour of rain.
The sky is dark, the only smattering of light coming from the few street lamps placed along the sidewalk.
You hadn’t realized it was so late, or so rainy, but you don’t let it stop you.
Instead, you plant your feet onto the steps of the building, and shout, “Watermelon!”
It echoes across the parking lot until you see him freeze, his drenched back still to you.
Then…he turns.
Only about halfway, the hood on his head allowing just enough light to catch the side of his face.
But it’s enough.
“Watermelon,” you repeat as you take a step closer, water trickling down your hair, your body, your clothes. But you don’t care. “I call watermelon.”
He frowns. “The hell are you doing? Go back inside—”
“No.” Your teeth grit, fingers squeezing into fists by your side as a rumble of thunder rolls across the sky. “No. I want you to talk to me.”
His hands disappear into his pockets as he tosses a glare your way. “I told you, I don’t wanna talk—”
“Tough shit.” You take another step. “’Cause I do. And you owe me that.”
The frown deepens. “Bee…don’t.”
 “No, you don’t.” Another step. “After everything we’ve been through…you really think you can’t talk to me? You really think I’m not trustworthy enough to hear what’s going on?”
He scoffs and glances away. “God, you never fucking listen. I told you, it’s not—”
“No, you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me anything,” you remind him, volume raising ever-so-slightly as you continue closer. “Something is wrong, Harry. I know you. And I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me—”
“I don’t want you to fix it,” he seethes. “I want you to drop it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t do that. We work it out.”
“We can’t work this out.”
You hesitate as the first clue slips free. “So there is something to work out?”
He sighs, eyes falling shut. “Bee…please go back inside—”
“No.” Yet another step. “No. What is it? What happened? What did I do—”
“Nothing,” he nearly growls, whirling around to face you as if to really nail in his point. “I fucking told you. Nothing—”
“Then what?”
“Bee—”
“What? Is this about Tina—"
“For fuck’s sake—”
“Seriously, did she say something—"
“Bee—”
“Is she mad about this—”
“Can you just—”
“What? Do you feel guilty—”
“No, I just—”
“If you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say something—”
“I didn’t—that’s not—”
“Then what, Har? What happened? Why won’t you fucking—”
“I can’t do this.”
You stop.
He stops.
But nothing else stops. Not the rain. Not the lightning. Not the thunder. Not the racing in your chest as your heart beats against your ribcage like a goddamn drum.
I can’t do this.
You don’t think you heard him right. “…what?”
He scrapes his teeth together. “I can’t…I don’t wanna be friends with you. I don’t wanna be just friends with you, I don’t…fuck.”
He looks down at the wet cement as your lashes flutter and you work overtime to figure out what he’s saying.
“I—for fuck’s sake,” he hisses, almost more to himself before his eyes snap back to yours. “Look, I know that all of this was just…you helping me out. Okay? I know that. I know it meant nothing.”
A crack of lightning strikes the sky and somehow, it’s still not as intimidating as what he’s about to stay.
“But then…it did mean something,” he continues, a bit softer. “It meant everything.”
You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what he wants you to say.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he grumbles, frowning once more. “I know, okay? I know. And that’s not…we agreed that it would just be…this. Just this. Nothing else. ’Cause we don’t do anything else. We don’t do…whatever, okay? I know.”
He looks back out into the dark city, leaving you to stare blankly at the side of his face. 
“But it’s you,” he says, hands nestling further into the hoodie. “It’s you, and it’s always been you. Fucking always, Bee. Ever since we were kids. And I didn’t…I didn’t know why. Didn’t even know what it was, but it’s never felt like this with anyone else. Only you.”
Only you.
“And I don’t wanna…fuck, I don’t wanna lose you,” he just about sighs. “I can’t fucking lose you, Bee. But it just…I don’t think I can do this and not fall in love with you.”
You suck in sharp breath, and he looks back.
“Because I will,” he whispers, despite the rain. But you hear it, clear as day. “I will fall in love with you, and I don’t know what I’ll do if you won’t have me.”
He stops now. Allowing the words to sink in. Allowing the truth to make a home in your mind.
And you work to understand. Work to find a response…but the only thing you manage is:
“What about Tina?”
After all, this started with her. It’s only fair that she play her part now.
His expression twists. You don’t know which way. “I like Tina. She’s nice. And she’d probably be really good for me.”
A pause.
“But she’s not you,” he finishes, and for some reason…you’re filled with relief. “It doesn’t feel like this with her. I don’t think it ever will.”
“You don’t mean that,” you blurt out, head shaking quickly. “No, it was just the sex. It’s throwing you off, it...it screws everything up and makes people think they feel one way…when they don’t.”
“Bee…” he begins, almost as if tired, but you barrel on.
“No, you said it yourself. Remember? Endorphins and shit?” You brush some wet hair from your face. “You just…it’s not me. It’s just the sex.”
“No.” He sounds so sure. So confident in his decision. “No, it’s not. It’s you. Always you, Bee—”
“Har—”
“You don’t have to like it. But that’s how it is—”
“Harry…you just…you don’t—”
“But I do.”
“Harry.” You want to stomp your foot. “You can’t…you don’t mean it. You’re confused.”
His eyes soften. “I’m not. I mean…I am, but not about why. Not about this—not about you.”
A pause settles between you as more thunder echoes across the dark sky.
And you look at him. Really look at him. Look for the truth, or the deception, or for anything that will help you make sense of all this.
“You said watermelon,” you remind him, blinking the droplets of rain from your eyes. “Why did you say watermelon?”
Another sigh as he glances back down at his sneakers. “’Cause…I knew. I knew I was starting to…need you. More than I should. And it fucking…it fucking scared me. It scared me how fucking…real it felt.”
Truthfully, you’re a little surprised that the man who has never once before admitted defeat would now confess his fear to you.
 But it makes your head spin.
“And I just…it was a lot,” he continues. “Seeing you. Seeing what I’d done. I mean…the marks. On your neck. I did that. I’ve never done that to someone before. But then I did. And I liked it. I liked getting to be that way with you, and it fucking terrified me. Because what if I hurt you? Actually hurt you somewhere down the line? I’d never fucking forgive myself.”
Your lips press into a quivering line. “…why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because it didn’t matter,” he huffs, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters because you don’t feel that way, and we’re finished with the list anyhow.”
You instantly follow after him, bridging the gap he made. “Don’t. It always matters with us, Har. Always. I mean…do you really think I haven’t wondered the same thing? Do you think it’s been fucking easy to do this with you and then just go back to watching Schitt’s Creek? It’s killed me. Fucking ruined me from the inside out to watch you walk away from me.”
His teeth grit once again, as if steeling himself from the truth.
“You mean everything to me, you goddamn twat,” you just about shout. “Sex or no sex, it doesn’t change that. I agreed to do this with you because I knew it was us. I knew we would be okay. Because we had to be okay. I can’t lose you either, Har. So stop trying to make me—”
“Then, what do you want me to do, huh?” he bellows. “Just wait around for you to believe me?”
“I…I do believe you, I just…I—”
“You just don’t feel the same way—”
“No, I didn’t say that—”
“Then what—”
“I…I—”
“What? I have to tell you, but you don’t have to tell me—”
“That’s not…that’s—”
“What do you want, Bee? What do you want me to do, what do you expect me to—”
“I love you.”
He stops.
Suddenly, and all at once, his eyes going wide.
But you don’t stop. “I love you,” you repeat loudly. “And I’m fucking terrified, too. Because I don’t want it to be just about sex. I don’t want it to be just the endorphins and shit. I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”
The silence seems to span an eternity as the rain continues to beat down around you.
Then…he surges forward.
He grabs hold of your wet cheeks with his drenched hands and yanks you closer.
And he kisses you.
He kisses you until you’re more him than you. He kisses you until you no longer have the strength to stand or the power to fight him.
He kisses you until it makes sense.
After a moment, he pauses to allow you a minute to breathe. But he doesn’t go very far. He presses his forehead to yours and he keeps you.
And it’s fucking…everything.
“What if we’re not?” he whispers. “What if we’re not real? What if we aren’t…us?”
You shake your head. "We'll always be us."
He exhales a gentle laugh before brushing his thumbs across your skin. "What if it changes everything?"
You wish you could assure him that it won't. Or even that it will, but in the best way.
But you can’t.
So, instead, you squeeze your fingers around his wrists and smile. 
“There’s only one way to find out.”
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Thank you so much to everyone for reading, following along, and offering me so much support on this series 😭 I will never be able to thank you enough for all the kind comments and wonderful feedback, but please know I appreciate you all endlessly 🥹💞💞💞💞
Also, I suppose I did kind of lie. This will probably be the last part of the “main” series but I’ve actually got a few more ideas for extra blurbs and parts about other kinks and situations they might get into. So, if you’d like to follow along, I would be so honored to have you back!
And if you’d rather leave their story here, that is absolutely okay, too! Thank you so much for being here!
Now…I’m gonna go cry HAHAHA ♥️
Next Part:
~ Find Me* (A Teach Me Extra)
Previous Part:
~ Feel Me* (Pt. 4)
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
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