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jarofstyles · 4 years

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You Again

A/N: Hello! We’re so happy to be posting the first of many one shots to this blog. We have a lot of goodies lined up and coming soon and we’re really excited to be sharing with you all! If you’d like, feel free to follow us to make sure you’re up to date on anything we post :) enjoy!

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: age gap (23/36), alludes to smut

word count: 6.4k

He should have gotten her number.

That thought had been circling his mind for the past year since this stupid speed dating event he had gone to. She was a younger girl, Y/N, her name was. She had been the only one to grab his interest truly, and they’d both laughed off the prospect of dating because, well-- she was 22, and he was 35. That was a major age difference and neither of them were into that. Or so it seemed.

He didn’t get her number.

They’d had a good conversation about how awkward this stuff was, they’d laughed all 10 minutes of the speed date before saying farewell and at the time, Harry ignored the little twinge in his chest that sprouted when she had left him to go talk to someone else. He had figured it was because he thought she was fun to talk to. Now, after many failed blind dates set up by his mother with snooty or money-hungry heiresses, he was looking for something real. Something born out of a connection. Not a fat wallet. And as much as he had tried to deny it in the past, Y/N had been the only one he had felt that with.

He searched for her on Facebook, a website he only used for looking at cat pictures and videos of food he would never make, looking for Y/N’s in the area. He didn’t think there were that many.

That led him back at the place where it all started, this stupid fucking speed dating event that landed him in this mess. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Part of him was hoping he would see her by chance, or maybe someone else that would light up his heart. Naturally, Harry was disappointed to walk in before it started. Y/N wasn’t there-- and yeah, he knew it was a long shot. She was a young, beautiful, sexy and intelligent woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if she had been scooped up and had a child on the way already.

It filled him with a sadness he couldn’t describe, not having his own family yet. He wanted children so badly, wanted a wife to come home and kiss. His house was too big to be alone. Harry had known what he wanted. A year to be selfish and take up all of his woman’s time, and then babies. Whatever type of marriage ceremony she wanted, he wanted a wife to love on and kiss, to make love to and be silly with.

He looked down at his phone and sighed, scrolling through emails when he heard a familiar voice. Soft and distinct to him-- no fucking way. There was no way.

“Hi, sorry I’m late! I got caught up in traffic and I had to rush over here... did you already start? Is there room for me?” Y/N asked the organizers kindly, knowing they worked so very hard on these events and that lateness was probably not the most tolerated. She had offered up a gentle smile as they told her she’d made it just in time, ushering her over to a table that already had someone sat at it.

Y/N couldn’t lie and say she didn’t come here without purpose. It’s been about a year since she had last been to one of these events and she still thought about what it would have been like to actually date him-- Harry. In their brief 10 minutes together, she gathered that he was ready to settle down, he had his life already together. At the time, it all seemed too quick for her, the idea of having a family at the ripe age of 22. She thought that dating a man who was so set in his ways would mean she didn’t have freedom anymore, but what had really changed in a year? Her mother was still pestering her about having grandchildren, all her friends were getting married. She was still the same Y/N, she still wanted the same things. Sure he was older, 12 years to be exact, but they were both adults! They’d gotten along well! They’d had a good laugh and he wasn’t unattractive either— she so blindly shrugged him off because she thought he wouldn’t want someone so young. Come to think of it, he was a great fit for her and she blew it. Instead, she spent a whole year going on shitty dates, horrible horrible dates that made her want to give up on anything at all. Maybe this little speed date thing would bring her luck again. Just one guy who gave her the same vibe Harry did and she’d be okay.

Funny, if she didn’t know any better she’d think this guy sat at the table she was walking towards was Harry. Dark brown hair, the broad shoulders. The outfit was a bit more eccentric though, that she wasn’t really expecting, but Y/N really wasn’t one to judge. She had grown up a lot in a year, had figured out what she really wanted, she wouldn’t be making the same silly mistake twice.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” She spoke in an apologetic tone, but it wasn’t until she got settled in and looked up at the man sitting across the table that she realized that it was, in fact, Harry who was sat there. Y/N’s eyes went wide, noticing he had a similar expression on his face.

“You again?”

“Fucks sake!” He smiled, leaning forward on the table. “It really is you. Wow...” He took her in. She had grown considerably and he loved it. She was more professional-looking, seemed to have more of her life together. But he was overjoyed. “I can’t believe I found you again! I was trying to find you on Facebook... Do you know how many Y/N’s there are in this city? A stupid amount.” He muttered. “But wow... I didn’t expect to find you here. I was hoping, I mean.” He felt giddy with energy. He had found that he was more excited than he had ever anticipated. “I kept thinking about you since last time. I think I made a mistake.” He said softly. “Not getting your number and laughing off the possibility due to an age difference. That’s my mistake.”

“I mean, maybe it would have helped if I had a Facebook.” Y/N laughed a bit, “but that’s really sweet... Why didn’t you call the organizers? They probably have my information on file.” She hadn’t bothered finding him because well, he was much older and she assumed he wasn’t really looking for her but he’d been looking for her. This whole time.

“I did, they said they weren’t allowed to give out information for safety purposes. I understand that much.” He was glad she wouldn’t be in danger because he had met some crazies when he came last time, that wasn’t her. It was weird. But now, he was hoping that they could continue where they’d left off. “Want to go then?” He asked, looking at her with an amused smirk. “What? There’s no point in being here if we want to just talk to one another. There’s a coffee shop just a few doors down.” He nodded his head towards the door.

Y/N was shocked at his suggestion, but then again she really did remember him always knowing what he wanted. She looked at him with a raised brow for a moment, deciding fuck it. She had gotten back up, blushing as she waved over to the organizers and told them that she’d found what she was looking for. She really had.

----

Y/N got herself a panini and a coffee, paying for it before he even had the chance to offer because who said this date had to end here? Besides, she didn’t want him to think she expected him to pay, she could afford lunch for herself. They’d sat down at a table by the window, a nice cushioned booth for two. It was cute. Y/N had moved the sunglasses up onto her head and pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, looking at him with a curious gaze as he observed her.

“What? Haven’t changed that much, have I?”

“No. You just look as though you’ve grown quite a bit. In maturity, I mean. You have the air of someone who is put together. Last time I saw you...” Harry could see her confusion. “You looked more hesitant. More unsure. Now you seem to know what you want. It’s a good thing.” He smiled at her. She was so cute. He was incredibly attracted to her but that wasn’t a surprise. She was beautiful and had pink lips and big eyes and curves. Beautiful. Sure it was a bit soon to think about but, he was sure they’d make fantastic children together. Curly hair and soft little noses. He could only hope they’d get her nose.

“Yeah? Feel like I have. Tried to figure things out, haven’t exactly had the most success.” They both hadn’t clearly. It was nice for Y/N to hear from someone who hadn’t seen her in a year that she had grown up and matured a bit. 22 to 23 was a bigger step than most people believed. Last time they spoke, they had bonded over the fact that both their mothers were looking for them to find partners. They had both been searching for different reasons, but Y/N felt like she had spoken too soon. He wanted a family and a wife to love fairly soon and now that she had a whole year to think about it, Y/N wouldn’t be opposed to being a wife with a family fairly soon.

“How have you been? I’d like to know what you’ve been up to. How your writing has been. You write about home goods, yes?” Harry smiled widely as he settled into his seat, waiting for his coffee and muffin to come to them.

“I’ve been well.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head when he commented about how she wrote about home goods. “Yeah, I’ve um.. I’ve extended my blog page. Been doing well as far as posting goes, have a few brands that consistently work with me.” Y/N nodded with a smile, “Speaking of which, if it’s good here I might just post about it.”

“Yeah?” He was trying to read her. She seemed comfortable enough with him but this was technically a first date type of thing, so he was hoping that she would want to go on more. “That’s amazing. I’m glad that you’ve been able to expand. I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to. To be honest... assumed that you would have been snatched up by now. I’m very surprised that you haven’t been but truthfully, m’ glad.” His lips quirked up. “Gives me my own chance.”

“You flatter me.” Y/N shook her head, knowing full well had he had just been kissing her ass a bit. Sure, she was an attractive young woman, but to think she’d been snatched up by now? She hadn’t been so hopeful. “Though, I can say the same about you.” Y/N blushed, keeping eye contact this time so he knew she was flirting. She knew she could be bad at it at times.

“Has your mother calmed down on trying to get you to date?” He questioned, leaning on his elbows and planting his chin on his joined hands. “Mine certainly hasn’t, but they were god awful. Swear she doesn’t have a good personal radar.”

“My mother cannot be stopped.” Y/N snorted out a laugh, “She’s just... she is setting me up with just about anyone really, just wants me to hurry up and fall in love. She wants grandkids.” Y/N explained, knowing he would understand. Her mom was older than most moms of girls her age, probably much closer to his mom’s age. She wanted grandkids soon. “It’s a shame... but I can’t say I’m too upset with the outcome now. Happy we can at least take things into our own hands.” She took a sip of her coffee. He was very attractive. She couldn’t believe she passed this up last time.

“Me too.” He was beyond happy that Y/N ended up around him. She had taken up a chunk of his brain for a long while. He hadn’t gone full force and asked people to find her because part of him felt as if it was in the stars, then it would happen. And it did. So he was positive now that he needed to try this out. “I understand that. I’ve been on a few and I’ve been so confused as to why my mother set me up with particular people... it made no sense at all. But I had to admit I did compare them to you a bit. I knew I had made a mistake a day or so after the speed dating round the first time, not getting your number at least.” He adjusted in the seat, putting his phone face down on the table after getting a work notification. All his attention was in her. “I have to be honest with you and say ideally I’d like marriage and children in the next 5 or so years.” Ideally as soon as possible. “Look... I know this is an intense conversation for us the first time we truly go somewhere, but I don’t want to waste your time if that isn’t something you’re looking for. You’re a bit younger than me and I know sometimes people want to live fully and then settle down but, I am old.” He joked. “I’ve been wanting a wife and a child desperately. Ultimately it would be up to you whenever a child would come but... I want to make sure we are on similar pages here.”

Y/N was, of course, a bit spooked when he had so casually brought up how he wants to be married and have kids within the next 5 years. She had expected it, knew it was coming. She thought about it before they even met each other again, but hearing it so straight up like that was a bit terrifying. He could surely see it in her eyes.

“It’s not that... it’s not that it’s not something I’m looking for, I am. It’s just very intimidating.” Y/N explained, taking another sip of her coffee. She hoped that he could understand that. It was a lot to think about being married with kids within the next five years, but she would like that. “And it’s not that it isn’t realistic, of course, you wouldn’t be wasting my time as I wouldn’t be wasting yours... I was afraid of it at first but then I thought about it and well, I’ve never been the type to want to live ‘fully’... I review candles and home goods for a living, I think I’m a bit past living that party life.” Y/N joked.

“It’s alright. I’ve been told that I’m a bit intimidating before because I know what I want.” He smiled sheepishly. “But it is a waste if I'm not upfront with you, in my opinion. You deserve the respect of my honesty.” Harry lived in a world with businessmen being fake and he wasn’t one of them. He was straight up and it intimidated people because he would often say how he felt and if he felt someone was being a liar, he would say so openly. He opened deals with what he wanted. Full stop. But he found that's how he ended up being so successful. Even if it scared them, they appreciated the honesty. “I just needed to tell you first, before we hopefully dig into the fleshier bits. I’m interested in you, Y/N. If I hadn’t made that clear before.” He took her hand in his on the table and squeezed it. It was so small compared to his. “All I ask for is honesty in feelings. If you feel as though I’m asking too much or making you genuinely uncomfortable, please let me know.”

His hand taking hers surprised her but she relaxed, trying to calm herself and realize that this was a good thing. This was something she had wanted for so long! She had been thinking about him for a year nearly, why was she so damn scared? Y/N understood his sense of urgency, she just wasn’t used to men being so direct. That’s what she wanted wasn’t it? Why was she scared? Maybe it was a fear of commitment? She had done things on her own for so long, it was hard to think about giving in to a man sometimes.

“You’re not doing any of those things, I promise,” Y/N told him and rubbed her thumb over his hand. “I understand where you’re coming from and it isn’t so much you as it is me, a classic line, I know.” She shook her head and sighed. “I do like you Harry, but I am not one to rush. So I’m sorry if I seem a bit stiff, I don’t do well with being vulnerable.”

“Hey... that’s okay. There isn’t a rush. I just want there to be no lies. No hidden agendas.” He could understand why she was confused at his blunt nature. “A lot of men like to play games. I’ve found that those aren’t fun unless they’re in the bedroom. Being upfront is what has worked for me.” He shrugged simply. Like he didn’t just say something about the bedroom. He hadn’t had sex in like, 2 years. He used to have someone he hooked up with but that wasn’t happening anymore after she had gotten a bit too attached and Harry couldn’t see past sex with her. It wasn’t what he wanted. He was clear in the beginning. But Y/N, she was someone he could see being close to out of the bedroom and inside. He had his curiosities but wouldn’t ask them yet. To be polite. “Why do you suffer with vulnerability, if I may ask?”

Y/N wasn’t expecting him to be so upfront. No one really asked her these types of questions, especially men who were interested in her. It was a positive sign, a green flag as opposed to the many red ones she had seen in her past ventures of finding love.

“I haven’t exactly had the best experiences in the past with relationships, built up a skin of sorts. I just... need a bit to warm up is all.” It really had to do with trust at the end of the day. It was strange to have a man who was so open, she knew it wasn’t his fault that she had all these past patriarchal beliefs. It felt like he was too good to be true, she needed to get to know him better to know if he was being serious. She wanted to believe him and she would, that wouldn’t change the fact that she was a bit weary though.

“That’s alright. We can work on that.” Harry smiled. “I think there’s a reason that I’ve been thinking about you for a whole year, Y/N. There has to be.” He informed her of his thoughts. “You’re lovely. I think we could be a very beautiful couple in time. But I would like to date you. Take you out a few times, if that’s alright with you?” He knew that she was going to take a bit of work to get to trust him, but he figured it would be worth it all in the end if they ended up together. “What does your schedule look like?” He questioned. He wanted to get a feel on when they could have dates. He would plan very fun ones. Besides a coffee every so often but their first date would be fun. They could do something maybe a bit childish and let her guard go down so he could see more of how she truly is.

“Of course... um..” Y/N pulled away from his hand and went to get her phone out to open up her calendar app. It definitely was a little nerve wracking but Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. She was sitting here on this date just fine! He didn’t give her a weird vibe. He was just excited, as was she. In different ways, but excited nonetheless. “I’m available almost always because of my job, I sort of plan to do my work around my activities for the week so... if you would let me know in advance I could work something out most times.” Perks of being an influencer. Y/N made good money, took care of herself well. Hopefully, Harry could get her to come out of her shell a bit, and maybe she’d help mellow him out in a good way.

“Would you be open to going out tomorrow?” He questioned. “I work during the day most days but, I have the ability to take off if you’d rather do something during the day.” He was the boss and could do what he wanted, basically. If Y/N preferred to go out during the day then he would. But he could reserve a lane at the bowling alley he was thinking of bringing her to for tomorrow night. It was a Saturday night so it would be busy but he had a feeling it could get her to relax a little bit. He was hoping she would agree.

“Tomorrow?” Y/N asked and looked down at her schedule, “Um, yeah, tomorrow sounds good.” She said with a nod. She was excited and a little nervous. Y/N knew she should at least tell someone she was going on a date, for safety reasons, but maybe she’d just briefly mention it. She didn’t want to jinx anything. “Here..” Y/N spoke, handing him her phone so he could put in his name and number. “Text yourself so you get my number.” She smiled, deciding that finally after a year, it was appropriate that they finally got each other’s numbers.

----

Even though Harry had made the date sound lowkey, she still wanted to be properly prepared just in case things got... steamy. Y/N made sure her entire apartment was spotless and she had taken one of those long showers, she even made sure her sheets were fresh. What? It had been a while and he was hot… they’d had a whole year of anticipation, it could happen!

Harry texted Y/N for her address, wanting to pick her up. It was proper. Even though they truly weren’t that far apart, he wanted to be a gentleman. There weren’t many of them in this day and age and Harry was looking forward to showing Y/N that he could be one for her. He wore a simple outfit. A patterned button-up and leather jacket along with jeans. People would never expect he was a CEO but he liked to play with fashion sometimes. It was a fun pastime. Especially when brands were eager to send rich people their clothing apparently. He pulled outside of her house in the Range Rover today. It was a pretty basic car and he knew it wouldn’t be too flashy. He also brought extra socks just in case she didn’t, bowling barefoot was a no go. This bowling alley was 50’s themed, a drive out, about 25 minutes. He hoped she would be okay with that. He got out of the car with the flowers in hand. Daisies. He had chosen daisies for her. Roses would scare her a little, he thought, so this was a fun and memorable gesture.

Y/N was feeling super giddy as she buzzed Harry in, making sure all the final touches were complete. He wasn’t going to be in her place for long but, she wanted to be sure that everything was perfect. It was a bit of pressure she felt with him being that much older. Realistically she knew it was nothing to worry about, that he wasn’t really that old, but she was an only child, she struggled with that concept. Hearing the knock on the door she smiled, walking over and gasping a bit when she saw the flowers.

“Hi— are these?” She looked up at him and then back at the flowers as if she was unsure. Who else would they be for? “That’s so sweet.” Y/N cooed and waved him inside. She gave him a hug, heat rising to her cheeks at the kiss he pressed to it. “Let me put these in a vase and we can get going. I’ll be quick! Make yourself a home.”

“Hi love, ‘Course.” He has done well with the flowers. Harry felt like a lot of men her age didn’t bother with flowers or little gifts but it was something he wanted to do with his woman. “Your place is lovely.” It was. It was roomy and decorated beautifully. Clean but still looked lived in. That was something he couldn’t wait to acquire. He wanted this type of home. His home looked so sterile that even he felt uneasy sitting in the living room. She looked beautiful too. In her little outfit that was simple and yet; so classy on her. “You look beautiful as well.” He smiled when she approached him. “I love the look. I hope you’re okay with a different type of first date.” He smiled. Bowling and a pub after weren’t traditional.

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” She worked really hard on decorating it after all. Y/N had found a pretty little vase for the flowers, making sure the water wasn’t too cold or hot before she set them on her kitchen counter where she’d see them the most often. “Thank you.” She hummed, “but no, I don’t mind. Anything works for me.” Y/N has been on so many shitty dates that at this point she was willing to take anything. Anything could top the time she went out to a steakhouse with a guy who ended up vomiting on her. Harry was already proving to be better than the others, but she hoped she wasn’t speaking too soon. She took his hand after locking the door behind her, following him on their way down to his car. “How was your day?” Y/N did want to know. These would be questions she’d ask on a daily basis. He relaxed slightly when she placed a hand on him. For some reason, her touch made him feel at ease. She was so easily able to make him react by touches and he wondered why that was.

“Was alright. Worked a lot. I was excited to see you, to be honest.” He admitted, squeezing her hand as they left the door. He had been so distracted, checking his phone every hour or so. It was odd for him. He wasn’t ever normally like this. She appealed to him so much. He opened the car door for her, holding her hand as she climbed in. Making sure she was settled, he closed the door and went to his side. God, he was excited. Not too nervous because he felt like they had been placed together for a reason. “The place is around 25 minutes away if you’d like to send a friend the location you can.” He was understanding that they could do that on the phone. He had never done it but he knew his niece did.

“What are you planning on kidnapping me?” She teased, but knew she was going to do it anyway. Not that she thought anything would go wrong, but just so her friends knew she was safe and sound for their own peace of mind.

“How was your day?” He questioned. Y/N was fun to listen to. Genuinely, he loved hearing what she had to say. Her voice was soothing and warm and she was good at keeping conversations going. That’s what made him relax further. It was almost time to arrive at their destination and he felt excitement in his stomach. He hoped she would appreciate the element of surprise. He knew it would be eating at him but she was easier on the questions and seemed to trust him on where they were going.

“My day? It was pretty average. Took some photos, tried out a new recipe for some raspberry swirl brownies. I have a bunch leftover, should have given you some to try.” Y/N pouted, “Maybe later though. When you drop me off.” She was already inviting him back? Maybe. Who knows, she assumed things would go well. Harry was extremely attractive, there was no denying it. If he kept treating her the way he was and if she had a few drinks in her she’d surely suggest more. Y/N wasn’t exactly the boldest unless she had some drinks in her, but even then she was pretty tame. Sexy wasn’t really her speciality, felt like she was pretty mellow and average. “Bowling?” Y/N asked with a smile, “did not take you for the bowling type.” She couldn’t believe this was where he was taking her. “Can’t wait to whoop your ass.” She giggled as she hopped out of the car, going to meet him around the front. Y/N took his hand and let him lead the two inside. This was great already. He was relieved when he saw the spring in her step. She was excited! He had done something right in guessing she would be a fan of this. Next date, he had something in mind already.

“Hi... reservation for Harry.” He smiled at the bored teenage clerk. He obviously wasn’t happy about working a Saturday and he could understand that. When asked his shoe size, Harry gave it to him before turning to his date. “What’s the shoe size for you, sweetheart?” He asked, letting go of her hand so he could grab the shoes and hand his card over. He loved that she was excited, leaning into him.

She’d changed into her shoes quite easily, slipping off her leather jacket and placing it to the side before pulling her hair up. “It’s game time.” Y/N teased, noticing how there was a little bottle of wine and snacks there as well. This was really cute and thoughtful. “I haven’t been bowling in ages, but I’m very competitive.” She warned him, “feel like we should place a little bet as well... make things more exciting.” Y/N knew it would be something silly and doable.

“Oh?” He raised a brow as he placed his jacket down on the chairs. He was curious to see what wager she would want to play with but he wouldn’t mind at all. Seeing as Y/N was an interesting little thing in general, he was hopeful to see what she would do. “What are you thinking of betting on? I am both concerned and curious, by the look on your face.” He had been planning on letting her win but it deepened now on the terms of the winning and losing bets. “I am quite good at bowling, little miss. So choose wisely.” He walked over to the little machine they could put their names into that kept score. “Lay it on me then.”

“If you win, you get to kiss me at the end of the game.... and if I win, then you get to kiss me at the end of the night.” Y/N felt like that was a perfect little wager. Regardless she was going to kiss him, but it was all a matter of when. She didn’t mind either way, but it would add some tension and of course she wanted to see just how badly he wanted to kiss her. Harry typed in their names setting his as simply H and hers as bunny. “Cute.” She giggled, looking at the different sizes of bowling balls they had and checking which best fit her fingers and brought two of them over to the machine. She went first, having had a lucky shot. She knocked nearly all the pins right away, her second shot managing to clear the whole set.

“Look at you!” He laughed, clapping at her little victory dance. She was good. Either way he was guaranteed a kiss so he was very happy-- however, was eager for it. He watched her skip back with a little tongue poking out to tease him. “Alright, alright. Champion bowler over here.” He grinned, putting the ball into his hands as it was his turn. Of course, he cleared all the pins the first try. For some reason, he was very good at bowling. Not at basketball or baseball. He was good at soccer and football but it varies. Harry laughed at her pout, moving about so she could go ahead and play her next round. She hadn’t asked where they were going after the bowling was done but he was excited. The whole night was going to be fun. Even now, he had a feeling it was going to be one of the best he’s had in a long time.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Y/N narrowed her eyes a little bit, getting up to go for her turn. This time she was determined to get a strike, focusing. She took a deep breath, doing a little meditation before winding up and letting it go. And she did it! Y/N turned around with a little giggle, flipping her hair over her shoulder even though it was pulled up. She had walked over to eat some of the snacks, taking a sip of the wine he had poured out for her. It was delicious. She was excited, this seemed like a very promising date already. Y/N did feel a little giddy every time he did well, but she wanted to try her best to beat him just for optimum teasing. Y/N had no idea there was a second part of the date, so she thought the end of the night would likely come a lot sooner. They were playing three rounds though, so surely they’d know who won by the end of it.

The thing is, he would have let her win. He really would have, but he wanted a kiss. Her teasing and poking her tongue out at him, their banter back and forth, it made him happy and he wanted to taste her. Her mouth was gorgeous. Lips plump and pretty, glossy. He wanted to kiss. It had been so long since he had a proper kiss, and he punched the air in victory once the final score showed he had won by 15 points. Y/N has scowled playfully, but he could see the blush on her cheeks. She was irritated about being kissed, and he loved that.

“Let’s go to the car.” He pulled his belongings back in his hold, their bowling shoes deposited back on the front bench as they walked towards the car. “I woooon.” He grinned, popping his things in the back seat and tucking the phone back into his pocket, not unlocking the front doors yet. He came in front of her, hooking a hand on her waist, the other on her jaw.

“Gonna let me have my prize?”

Y/N felt her heart rate pick up instantly, eyes wide as they scanned his own. She nodded her head with a small hum of agreement, leaning into his hand while she waited for his lips to lock on hers. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, desperate for him to finally just lean in and kiss her. This kiss was a whole year in the making, she knew there was no way it couldn’t be good.

“Good.” He didn’t wait, leaning in and taking what he wanted. It’s how he had been his whole life and he had no regrets, pressing his lips to hers. Immediately he knew he had made the right decision. His body was warm with delight, kissing her gently but having a firm grip on her. He didn’t know how far was too far but he knew she would hint at it. When she melted into his grip, his kiss became a bit deeper and pushed her farther up against the car door. Licking at her lower lip in an attempt of getting her to open a bit, he was pleased to hear a hum of approval come from her throat. A full kiss, Y/N was rewarding him with. Tasting sweet, he never wanted to stop. His body was electric at her touch, Feeling her lean into him and her tongue slick against his, he loved kissing her. It would be difficult now to go to sleep without replaying this.

It was definitely the best kiss she’d ever had. It was passionate and hot and exactly what she had needed after feeling so damn hopeless for so long. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, even her cunt was fluttering a bit with the way his tongue was moving against hers. Y/N had completely melted for him. Her hand had moved up to wrap around his wrist, her other moving to the back of his neck to keep him there. She really didn’t want him to move. It felt like the world had stopped moving and she was no longer thinking about their age gap or what was going to happen between them. All she was thinking about was how good he made her feel.

“Gotta stop, bunny. I’ll get too worked up and.. I’d like to be decent when we get to our next place.” He murmured. Her arms were still around his neck and he liked that, but she blinked at him in confusion. “You didn’t seriously think I was going to leave you hungry, Bunny? No. You’re getting food. There’s a nice pub I go to back in our area.” He chuckled. His thumb rubbed tenderly over her jawline, pecking her swollen lips. “Stole that one. But you can have some more after we get you fed. They’ve got a lovely chocolate lava cake as well.” He didn’t want to pull away but he was hopeful that this night wouldn’t end any time soon.

----------------------------------------------------

[part 2]

A/N: thank you so much for reading! we’re really excited about all the content we have lined up. We’ll be posting regularly so make sure to check out our masterlist and send us request for what you want to read next :) - n + d

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

NO REQUESTS FOR STRAY KIDS OR NCT??? HERE I AM. Well more for Stray Kids cause I don't really now NCT that well 😂 I actually just got a reaaally random idea for a reaction?? Do you do them? I guess I saw it in your masterlists but I'm not sure, if not then maybe you can just do something else with that idea idk do whatever inspires you?? 😅 Can you write their reactions to their s/o not liking to be taken in photo? Like they hate taking poses and selfies are their nightmare? And they always find a way to make weird faces or hide their face whenever they're being photographed? (I always do that and it makes my mom and close friends getting insane 😂) First random request, thank you so much already! As always I love your blog a lot 🥰 (omg that ask is so long sorry for that 😅)

Hahaha yesss!!! Finally a request for a reaction 😆 I’ve wanted to write one for so long but no one has asked for it until now. Thanks so much!! 💕💕

Stray Kids | Their S/O hates having their photo taken

{Stray Kids Masterlist}

-Bang Chan-

Chan would notice it right away

He loves taking pictures and videos of his S/O, so this habit of theirs would drive him insane

He at first wouldn’t think much of it and brush the subject off a bit

But after seeing them do it more often, he would get a bit upset

Like he wants nothing more than to take a cute picture with his S/O

He would be afraid that they were feeling insecure about themselves and always reassure them that they’re gorgeous/handsome

He would get so happy though if he takes a photo without them hiding their face/pulling a silly face

Would gush for ages about how pretty they look

“Oh my god you’re so gorgeous/handsome in this photo, baby look!” “No! I don’t want to see it!” “Pleeeeeeease!”

*rest is under the cut

-Lee Know-

Minho’s a little bit of a cheeky bean, so he would tease his S/O about it

Would take sneaky pictures of them so they wouldn’t notice and show them later

Sometimes he would do it just to annoy them, but a lot of the time he literally would just want cute photos of his S/O

Because as much as he would love the silly and stupid photos, he would love to capture them just doing normal things

Probably would have a little album in his phone

The only time his S/O would notice is when they see that his background is a sweet picture of them napping

“When did you take that!?” “The other day~” “Delete it!” “But you look so peaceful and cuddly!”

Would start some friendly arguments a lot of the time

-Changbin-

l feel like he wouldn’t really care for photos that much

Like yeah, having selfies and videos of his S/O is cool, but he just prefers to be with them in the moment

Honestly they would just be laughing and having too much fun to be taking photos

But if the subject was to come up, he would be so comforting and chill about it, not making it a big deal

“It’s fine not liking your photo taken. Not a lot of people do.”

But if they were to send him a random selfie or picture of themselves, he would literally flip

Lots and lots of heart eye emojis and praise, feeling so happy that they felt comfortable enough to do that

“WOW 😍😍😍” “YOU’RE AN ANGEL OMG 😫😫”

-Hyunjin-

I feel like Hyunjin would have trouble understanding why they hide their face

Always thinks they’re joking around and trying to be funny, so he would brush it off as a joke

But when he wants to take a cute selfie together and they get shy and hide their appearance, it would make him a bit upset

He would take it the wrong way and think that his S/O doesn’t want a picture with him

He’s a drama queen, so he would pout and whine about it

“Please just one!” “No! I look ugly!” “No you don’t at all! Just pLEASE-”

They’d have to eventually give in because he wouldn’t give up

Absolutely cherishes their selfies though

Would print them out and hang them on his wall to look at

-Han-

Han at times can be a little bit of a shy bean as well, so I think he would relate to his S/O’s habit

He would respect their wishes for not wanting to be photographed without them knowing

He’s not fussed about not having many photos of them

But he would literally hate it if they spoke badly about themselves after seeing a picture of them

Like full scolding mother mode

“Don’t say that about yourself! It makes me annoyed and sad!”

He wants them to feel loved and valid 24/7, so he’d always be reassuring them that they shouldn’t feel shy around cameras because they have so much beauty

Very sweet and sensitive boy

-Felix-

He’d be upset about it if anything

Would enjoy having funny photos of them both, but sometimes he just feels soft and wants to take one of them sleeping or when they’re out on a date together

He understands that his S/O doesn’t like photos, but would try to convince them in the nicest way possible

“Just one. We don’t have to post it or anything, I just want it to remind me of our fun day together.”

He can sometimes get a little bit insecure about himself, so sometimes he would also hate having his photo taken when he’s not feeling his best

So him and his S/O would relate to each other about it

Funny photos are more fun anyway, so he would love it when they pull stupid faces

-Seungmin-

He would tease his S/O about it as well, thinking that they’re dumb for believing they’re photogenic enough

He’s very brutally honest, so he’d question it as soon as he noticed

“Why do you do that? You literally have no reason to hide your face so it’s pointless.”

He would laugh at the situation though

Like he finds it funny to see photos of his S/O trying to hide behind him or pulling a stupid face

If he wants a cute photo though and his S/O ran away, he would chase them and tackle them for it, probably ending with a funny forced picture anyway

“Haha never mind, this one’s better than a cute selfie.”

-I.N.-

He’s kind of awkward with photos himself I think

So him and his S/O would just collectively agree not to take sneaky photos

If his S/O wanted a picture together, they would have to be the one to ask for it

They would rarely take photos I feel

Like maybe a few when on dates but that would literally be it

So his S/O wouldn’t have to worry about their habit

Jeongin would probably get a bit confused about it if he does notice something

But he wouldn’t approach them about it, thinking it’s not a big deal

Although he would love his S/O’s smile, so seeing a normal picture of them would always make him happy and giddy

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry if this isn’t that good! It’s my first reaction so I’ll probably get the hang of it as I do more ❤

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milkiane · 3 years

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so i am feeling incredibly emotional rn so, here’s an appreciation post for my favorite people. (this have been in my drafts for three weeks now) -- so why not post this along with my sleepover <3 sleepover bash

@chokemepansy

need i say more? no— but i will anyway. asteria, my mean cheerleader girlfriend, you are the first moot i’ve ever had, and honestly, i wouldn’t have it any other way. you're my favorite person in the entire world, and pls i am getting so emotional rn, i hate you >:-( i’ve told you everything at my previous letters but i just want you, and everyone else who’s about to read this, to know that you’re my platonic (and quite possibly romantic) soulmate, and my other-third, because pansy owns the shit out of us. love u lots, don’t say it back <3

@accioweaslcy

my favorite headcanon writer 😩 pls alyssa, i’ve had, and still do, have so much fun talking with you. i really, really, love your company, i love your writing, and most especially love you. you were one of my moots that talked to me with such ease and comfort despite being a tad bit younger than you, and it’s been fun ! you’re like one of those seniors who befriends juniors, but still have this amazing (and envying) friendship with each other. not only that, but you being my friend, and me being a dumbass, made our own version of the golden trio with @weasleyyy ! now, this is a story i’ll tell my kids. love u, even if you choose to chomp me <3

@weasleyyy

gHAZAL ! now, are you thankful for me being a half-asleep dumbass who thought you were rose because of your similar urls before, or what ? because i definitely am PFT SJSHSJSHSJN anyways, i’m so happy to have you in my life. i’m a sucker for your chaotic and impulsive energy, and your little thoughts about the hpu. just like rose, thank you for acting just as yourself around me, a smol bisexual mess, because i really do appreciate it, and now you made me a fanclub— which btw, i still cannot get over with. i wheeze everytime i remember it. i love u, madame gazelle, even if you’re a mean li’l fuck ! <3

@amrtxntias

AAAAAAAAH heather, you are officially my unofficial soft british best friend, and no, you do not have a say in this, because you’re stuck with me forever. thank you so much for helping me with terms i need for writing. you’ve been the best, you’ve supported me through every ups and downs with my writings ever since we’ve met. it wasn’t even too long ago ! but you’ve welcomed me like i was a long lost friend of yours. love u, h, the lily to my marlene <3

@buckysbeloved

aliciaaa !! you’re honestly like an older sister i’ve never had. i’ve never had anyone to rant about my marvel fangirlings with, but i am so glad that you were so open with my rants and conspiracy theories. you’ve never judged me or shown any disinterest with my rambles, you’ve been so supportive and you continue to give me the same energy as mine. it’s a very little thing to fuss about, but lish, you’ve got to know that it means so much to me. i’m tearing up— blame the hormones. but really, i’m so grateful for you and your company (and your maxibaby fics). love u to the moon and back ! <3

@acosmis-t

isa isa isa isa isaaaa, pls i love u so much. that’s all i want to say, but ofc, i need to say more. you have been one of my best friends— we clicked the moment we spoke to each other and i was incredibly happy to be your moot. i couldn’t even believe it at first because you’re this rly cool writer with tons of followers and i’m just another user in the crowd but like, everything i want to say is beyond the words that want to come out of my mouth, so i’ll leave it with a thank you for choosing me to be one of your mutuals. thank you for blessing me, and the others, with your lovely fics. never stop doing what you love, i’m here for you always. always was, and always will be. i mean, it should be with the jointed graves and all. love u <3

@reguluscore

SOOOORINNNN. sometimes i question what’s happening inside your head. like one second your posting angsty fics and thoughts, and next thing i know you’re posting a dancing prongs gif. i’ll never understand, i reckon, but that’s alright, i’ll love you just the way you are, even if you break my heart with your angst. tell me who hurt you and i’ll beat them up. i love u so much, i’m still listening to your playlist, because it’s astronomical. sending you some forehead kisses <3

@inks-and-jinx

vivian !! i’m still beyond grateful for you and your artistic and writing talents. you’re such an angel, and i’m so incredibly happy to have you in my life. you’re a sweetheart. you’re every sweet-soft-fluffy nickname there is, because honestly? i cannot speak well, or think straight because i don’t think words can describe how lucky i am to have you. well, i love u, and that’s all i could comprehend <3

@comfortwriting

karis ! you’re honestly one of my fave moots because you never fail to make me so appreciated and loved. your out of the blue messages always make me feel so happy because you’re so wholesome and nice. i’m very, very, glad to have you in my life. thank you for always being there to be my personal therapist and my human diary— who listens to all of my writing ideas, even if i have tons of wips to write. thank you for inspiring me to write again, without you, i would’ve never find my passion for writing again, so thank you, thank you for being the sweetest person there is, i love you ! <3

@krasivayadarling

ANYA ! darling, you are one of the very first mutuals i’ve ever talked to, you’ve welcomed me with open arms when i was new here and i wouldn’t change anything in the world. i’m so glad that you were the first person i’ve ever talked to because you are practically the human form of a squishmallow. don’t question me, you’re my squishmallow. anyways, you’re such a lovely person and i’m very happy to have you in my life, love you ! <3

@cursestothemoon

cHARLY-CHAR !! hehe you are like one of those nice, cool, senior students in school, you never fail to make me so giddy and loved. i’m so happy to have you in my life, and i’m wishing you all the happiness and love in the world because you truly do deserve it, especially when you’ve been nothing but so kind and friendly. pls i feel like crying because i don’t know what i did to deserve you. I BLAME U AND UR AMAZING WRITING SKILLS FOR MAKING ME SOFT >:-( i love you tho <3 — also thank you for that play fighting blurb with fred, i didn’t know that i needed to bite his cute butt until i read it.

@sunflowergirl522

ZOE ZOE ZOE ZOE ZOE ZOE ! I LOVE YOU. i feel so complete when i read your peter fics. i always look forward to them because it’s not everyday you find someone who actually writes him so good, and i know we don’t really interact much, but i feel like i got to know you more through reading your fics. u better trust me when i say that i’ll be your personal hype woman and maxibaby supporter, because i am, and i will forever be ! love u <3

@fives-cup-of-coffee

amelia, you bitch, i love you. to be honest, i've never really expected us to be friends, but ofc, here you are, simping for me and now we're besties. you've been, and still are, so fun to be around with-- only because i get to tease the shit out of you >:-) anyways, thank you for keeping up with my utter bullshit, i'm here for you always, i hope you know that. love ya ! <3

@moonvicake

wAHH-- sasha, hi. pFT JSADHJSAHDJH SORRY BUT PLEASE I LOVE YOU, DID YOU KNOW? it's been so painfully awkward at first because believe me, i'm the most gauche person you'll ever meet if we talk for the first time, but as soon as we grow accustomed to each other, you'd wish that you never spoke to me, because i'm this hot fucking mess, so thank you for keeping up with me. you're one of my favorite mutuals in here. i love you more than puppies and hello kitty pancakes <3

+ my mutuals who’ve been such amazing people, we haven’t talked as much as the tagged moots but i love you all just as equally, you lot mean the world to me, and i’m willing to go on the ends of the earth for all of you <3

@anchoeritic @babyjordy @frankenkyleluvr @ronsbadidea @kc-needs-coffee @nevilles-top @weasleyclaw @sweetnspicysimp @redbullchick @willowbleedsonpaper @weasleysandwheezes @daffodilmoons @incorrectpeterparker @dracosaccount @cedrics-grave @pad-foots @peepeepotter @oldschoolkiddo @spideyspixies @daltonacademia @eunoniaa @love-peachh @george-fabian-weasley @mayonnaise-and-anarchy @darthwheezely @thotbutpurple @l0ttadreamz @daisyyy2516 @prettywhitedoves @band--psycho @widowdays @loveboyhalo @gxtitobxby @fandomvariousness @nothinghcppens (i passed the 50 tags rule, eek— i’m sorry, i love all of you whom i didn’t get to tag, though 🥺)

#mutuals appreciation post ! <3 #amourtentiaa’s sleepover bash <3

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beautifulletdownfics · 4 years

Text

The Nearness of You - A Harry Styles One Shot

A friends to lovers one shot feat. birthdays, pining and stolen purses.

Hello, please enjoy this fever dream fic that came to me a week ago and is now somehow 13.5k and gracing your eyeballs. I’ve never written a one-shot of this nature before and it was quite a refreshing distraction from my usual, long-form fics. Thank you to Anne @oh-honey-styles for the encouragement (bullying) and for posting the pic that inspired it all. To everyone else, read on x katey *Because this is quite lengthy, I’d recommend opening in a browser because the Tumblr app can be glitchy*

My masterlist Chat to me here

“When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams came true” The Nearness of You, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

You love the cold.

London in February isn't everybody's cup of tea, but you feel positively giddy walking down the icy Soho street in your new & Other Stories snow boots. The hard, black leather is already making your toes ache, and they're rubbing against the heel of your left foot, but they'll stretch to size, and you can tell these are going to be Your Signature Boots. The wind whips against your cheeks, red flushing them as you cross the laneway and push open the door to the chic little restaurant you've followed on Instagram for years but never had an excuse to try. Figures Harry chose it for tonight. Sometimes you wondered if the coincidences were a little too … Coincidental.

"Hi," you smile brightly to the maître d', "I'm uh … I'm here for the birthday? For Harry?"

Do I need to say his surname? You think to yourself.

"Can I have your name, please?" The suited man pulls a piece of paper out of the reservations book and waits for you to identify yourself. Your chest is rattling from the cold and the flurry of nerves you're all too familiar with ignoring.

"Y/N," you say your full name, taking in the dark floor of the restaurant, the flickering candles on the tables and lining the bar that takes up the entire left side of the room. The whole place is beautiful, just like you've double-tapped online; all deep reds and burgundies, vintage posters, and mismatched, dark wooden furniture. A jazz record plays just loudly enough to fuse the conversations at all the tables into one comfortable sound. It would make for a sexy place for a date, you decide, stolen touches under the table would feel thrilling and seductive.

The maître d' nods, you're on the list, "Back in the private dining room," he says, "Follow me this way."

You push your evening bag further up your shoulder and walk half the length of the bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. You catch the bartender watching you as you go, he's cute, and you give him an awkward little wave before calling out ahead of you.

"Sorry, excuse me," you get the attention of the man leading you through, "Can you point me to where I need to go? I'm going to get a drink to take in first if that's okay?"

"Just there," he points to the doorway at the back, next to the kitchen pass, "The curtain on the right."

Thanking him, you watch as he walks back to his station by the front door. You turn to the bar and rest your hands on the cool wood. They've stuck the pages together of old Little Golden Books for the drink menus, but you'll be ordering what you always get on birthdays, so don't take in the beverage options as you flip through The Tawny Scrawny Lion. You remember it from when you were a kid.

The bartender moves to stand in front of you, a gleam in his eyes and flirtatious smirk on his face, "Pretty good read, that one. You have to order a drink though, this isn't a library."

You laugh, he's laying it on a bit thick but probably just after the tip, "I was more a The Poky Little Puppy sort of girl."

He gives you a grin of approval, flipping a napkin up onto the bar in front of you, "What can I make for you?"

"I'll have two Old Fashioneds, please," you lean forward onto your elbows to give your feet a rest as he pulls up a second napkin and then two crystal, lowball glasses. "They're pretty," you comment without thinking.

"It's all about the glass," he confirms quickly, dropping brown sugar cubes into each one and then shaking bitters on top. Your eyes focus on the way the squares dissolve and fall in on themselves as he speaks again, "I'm Jack."

"Y/N," you give your name for the second time, throwing a brief smile his way, "I've never actually watched someone make these before."

Jack pauses and gives you a teasing look, "Do you want me to stop so you can get something to write this all down?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him as he goes back to making the drinks. You're stalling. You know when you go through the curtain in the back there'll be a dozen people who're all dressed nicer than you, with more impressive jobs than you, who have funnier, more outrageous stories about the birthday boy than you. You'll need to stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few moments too long before Harry notices you, and then your greeting will be watched by all his cool, London friends.

You know better than to let any of that dull your shine—you really do—but you've had a rough few months, and if you're honest, you'd like your first time seeing Harry since the summer to be a little more low-key than this. So that's why you're wearing the new boots that hurt and might not suit the dress code because they're new and you feel good wearing them with this outfit. It feels a little special to be out celebrating Harry's (belated) birthday in a semi-new ensemble. You managed to fluke getting your hair and makeup just right, and yes, your legs do look pretty fantastic in these tights with the short, roll neck, knit dress, thank you very much.

"Here you go," Jack brings your attention back to him, you can smell the citrus twist in front of you, and the crystal glass deflects the light from the candles, "Can I put this on a tab for you? You're with the birthday?"

"I'll pay," you tell him, already digging for your card and holding it out to him.

"Oi!" You hear a very familiar voice call out from the far end of the bar, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you shiver, "What're you payin' for? What's she—don't take her money!"

You keep your arm out steadily to Jack and raise your eyebrows at him, "Take it," you urge him quickly, feeling him pluck it from your fingers just as you turn towards the voice you know so well.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne hits your nose just as Harry hurries up and deposits himself heavily against the bar, right up in your personal space. His broad frame blocks out the room to you, and he's lit softly in the dim light and looking radiant from within, as per usual. He's got his crazy eyes out—accusing you—and his eyebrows are pinched together slightly, but he looks good. Happy. Rested. Pleased to see you.

Harry's always pleased to see everyone, you tell yourself, Hold it together.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug. Your cheek presses just below his pecs, and you feel the way he's grown more defined since you last saw him. The material of his t-shirt is soft and smells clean. It's a tight squeeze he gives you, one that you resist reading into. Was it healthy for there to be so much comfort in a simple hug? Was your whole body allowed to tingle and fizz from the embrace of a friend? Was it pathetic to have been carrying around in your ribcage the same crush from when you were thirteen?

Affirmative. Without a doubt. Yes.

You haven't seen Harry since mid-September, the last time he was in London. Well, the last time he was in London and had time to see you. You're sure there were probably business trips, Christmas definitely. And going off Instagram, you think he might've flown into Manchester and spent a long weekend with Anne back in October, but if it was any of your business, it would've been your business. You needed to be grateful simply for what you got; intermittent texts about books he'd read or maybe a happy drunk voicemail if he thought of you at the right time. He sent an email at Christmas with a charitable contribution in your name instead of a gift.

"It's so good to see you," Harry says as he pulls away, all crinkled eyes and broad smiles. You don't know your grin has launched his heart into space and that despite having just gone to the bathroom, Harry feels due for a nervous wee. He thinks you look fucking gorgeous tonight. Knowing you've done your hair, and eyeliner, and picked that dress to come out and celebrate his birthday … It sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin—beauty blooms in front of his eyes in you.

Tell her, you idiot. Twenty-seven could be the year.

"Hi," you chirp at him happily and pick up one of the glasses in front of you, "I got you a drink."

Harry watches you fondly and then dramatically looks off to the side, lets out a little huff, "Typical Y/N, buying her own drink … You really think I wouldn't have one here for you?"

Nevertheless, he says a quiet thank you, takes the glass from you and deliberately sniffs it as if he's not sure what's inside or if he'll like it. You smack his arm lightly at the show and pick up your own glass, chinking it to the side of his and watching him over the rim as you both take your first sips. The familiar taste and view fill your tummy with gurgling happiness that sits high in your chest. He's dressed almost exactly how you expected him to be—smart, high-waisted dress pants and a printed t-shirt. You're glad you didn't go too formal, the restaurant is nice, but it's not Hatted or anything, not like the place he took you in LA that time, where you felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realising beforehand, was properly fancy.

"Fuckin' delicious," he rumbles slowly, bringing you back to the cocktail, "A classic."

"Happy birthday," you tell Harry sweetly, thankful for what's likely to be your only quiet moment with him all night, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the LA party."

"Ah," Harry waves you off, "Your job's much too important here."

He means it. Harry's beyond proud of you. He's always telling people you work for the NHS, saving lives and keeping the country going. The party in LA was thrown together by some people at the last minute, and even though most of the friends he left in the backroom when he went to find the bathrooms a few moments ago were able to fly across for it, Harry's not the least bit put out by you not being able to. Would've been a big trip for you to do on your own and he knew there's no way you'd miss his London celebration. And you sent over a gift, which shouldn't have surprised him. His actual birthday was spent in LA, and that morning a parcel arrived from you—two new notebooks and a novel Harry read the back of and instantly knew he would love. It's what he read on the flight home to the UK.

Trust you to want him to have the gift on his birthday—go to all that trouble of packaging it and sending it over—when you were going to see him in London ten days later anyway. Harry could do worse than a friend like you.

"I just need a bit more notice than four da—

—Please," Harry's shaking his head at you, hating watching you apologise for something he really doesn't care about. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he tells you genuinely, fingers reaching out to brush your bangs away from your eyebrow briefly and—did the room just spin around you?—get a glimpse of the bronze sheen over your eyelids, "I haven't seen your new hair in person, looks lovely."

Lovely? he scolds himself, Lovely is a nice jam scone, lovely is a hug from mum …

"Oh," you coo, automatically sending your own fingers up to where Harry's had just been to reposition your newish bangs, "Thanks, still getting used to it, wanted to do it forever but wasn't brave enough to I guess."

"I like your natural hair colour, too," he continues slowly, eyes running over your whole head, "I mean, I loved how it used to be … But I like this a lot."

Shit, Harry's already failing to adhere to the strict series of pep talks he's given himself over the last couple of days. He's babbling, and he's probably just made you think he's not liked how you've had your hair for the previous twelve years. Is he buzzed from the cocktail or from the way your cheeks have gone a little pink since he touched you? His compliment made you squirm, and Harry wants to do it again and again until what he's feeling makes sense.

"Just, you know, feels like a throwback to the old days," he mumbles through another sip of the cocktail you both love, a glint appears in his eyes as he continues, "When you had Barbie overalls and would spend half a day plaiting your whole head in those tiny little rat tails."

Your mouth opens into a horrified O, and you let out a single laugh, "Rat tails? They were cool. And I was eleven when we met, I'd definitely already outgrown the Barbie overalls."

"Whatever you say," Harry smirks at you, signature dimples appearing on his cheeks, "I just remember those little beads from the ends of them ending up all over the bottom of the pool."

You smile at the memory. You remember duck diving with Gemma to collect all the beads so they could be put back into your hair the next day. Nearly drowning from laughing so hard at Harry and the other boys trying to stand on your backs in the water. Summers with Harry were always spent laughing. The local pool and skate park saw all your adventures. When Harry's dad moved in next door to your family after his parent's divorce, you and your brother hung off the fence, peering into the backyard to see if any toys or a trampoline might appear signally new kids next door. They didn't, and it wasn't until the summer when Harry and Gemma arrived for their holidays that you jumped the fence with ice lollies and offered yourself up as a new friend.

"Simpler times," you muse to yourself, looking up and catching the perplexed look Harry was giving you, "Spaced out a bit, sorry."

"I've missed my little weirdo," he grins at you affectionately, angling a little closer and levelling his head down to yours as he bit his lip and frowned, "Are you doing alright though?"

You let out a little sigh and avert your eyes to where Jack, the bartender, is busy making trays of drinks for different tables. Harry observes you carefully, a twinge of guilt forms for causing the sad look that's come over your face, but also for not having asked the question weeks ago. Gemma told him at Christmas, an off-handed comment about you being newly single. When he heard the evil gremlin in him was fucking relieved, just like he always was.

"I'm fine," you try a smile out and pull your lips up higher when you don't think Harry buys it, "Better. Had my crisis haircut and drank myself to tears with my work friends. Just a normal break up, really. M'getting used to them at this point."

A small, white lie.

Each breakup bruises you deeply. Talking about it afterwards fills you with a shame that makes you feel naked, like everyone else can see what's wrong with you but you. As though it's obvious why nobody's picked you yet. You don't ever want to talk about it afterwards, (especially not with Harry) don't want to draw attention to it. Prefer to let the disappointment and loneliness pool in your tummy and sit there heavily, weighing you down, waiting for the One Day someone spectacular might come along and be buoyant enough to float away with you.

You're looking for your forever. You want the cheesy romance, and the love, and marriage, and kids, and the whole stupid thing. You want to be wanted and loved and cherished. That's what you're ready for. You just can't find anyone who's ready for that with you. So, you date, have mediocre boyfriends who rarely make it to the first anniversary, then pick up the pieces and try again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

"Well," Harry swallows, reaches out for your arm to make sure you look at him, "You look beautiful tonight. And it's his loss, he's clearly a monumental idiot."

You give Harry a noncommittal hum in response. Just as you're about to say something you shouldn't—get into details you bet Harry really isn't that interested in knowing—you catch the movement of someone appearing from the doorway behind Harry and then approaching you both.

"Harry, mate," you don't know the guy who's recognised Harry's back and is calling out for his attention now, "Thought you might've fallen in."

Harry snaps around quickly to the voice, blocking your view. You take another sip of your drink and pull in a deep breath. Not fitting into any of Harry' groups socially has its downfalls. If his sister wasn't around, you tended to have to make friends at anything Harry invites you to. You're not part of his Holmes Chapel crew or his LA friends, and you definitely don't fit into the London group. Over the years there have been faces you've come to find familiar, but you're still the singular, hanger-on friend from Harry's second childhood home.

Peering around Harry's shoulder, you catch the end of a look between the two guys you think alludes to this new friend gauging whether Harry needs rescuing from you. You briefly wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You know that look well.

"Aiden, this is Y/N," Harry raises his arm and angles to pull you around in front of him.

You hold up your drink, awkwardly, "Hi."

Aiden gives you a hesitant smile, "Hello," then he raises his eyebrows at Harry, "Harry, you coming back in, mate?"

Harry bites his lip and chuckles, reading the look on his friend's face, "You're a prick, I don't need saving. Known Y/N since I was twelve, we were just catching up."

You feel yourself go bright red, and you're thankful for the forgiving lighting. This isn't the first time this exact scenario has happened to you. You've been on the receiving end of that uneasy look before—his friends checking if the girl who isn't there with anyone else is supposed to be there at all. Backstage at the O2, a member of Harry's security once hauled you to the tour manager's office to check your VIP credentials were legitimate. You'll take that story with you to the grave.

Aiden deflates slightly and waves a hand your way, "Shit, sorry, thought he'd been cornered by a fan again … I mean, a pretty fan to say the least but …" he coughs into his hand when Harry gives him a glare you don't see, "Great to meet you."

"No worries," you wave it off like it's nothing. The truth is your brain has short-circuited at Harry's palm resting on the small of your back, he's not moved it from when he first brought you forward. Friendly touches weren't strange between you, but this lingering, comforting hand is burning a hole in you tonight. You haven't been out and had anyone touch you since your breakup, and Harry is setting off all you nerve endings. You tilt your weight onto your other foot to pull back from him slightly, but Harry's hand travels with you. "We should go back, I might use the loo first though, is it that way?"

Harry watches you point in the direction of the bathroom, you're flustered and he really wishes he could tell Aiden to buzz off so he could just take another few minutes with you. Brief you on who was in the room you were about to go into. You wouldn't know any of them, and Harry always appreciated that you came to things on your own, particularly when you wouldn't know anyone aside from him once you got there. He should have invited his sister so you'd have a buddy. Or told you to bring a friend. Not a boyfriend, though.

He watches you take the final drag from your drink and put the glass down on top of the bar, "Thanks Jack, t' was dee-lish," you catch the attention of the bartender, throwing him a beaming grin. And Harry watches the way the guy's features light up at being called on by you. Envy rumbles in Harry's gut, he recognises the dumb smile and dopey nod of Barman Jack's head. Has felt it a hundred times himself when he's been on the receiving end of your quirky humour.

You walk away, and Harry feels Aiden watching him, "She's fit," he comments, trying to get a rise out of Harry, reading the room perfectly.

"Fuck you," Harry grunts at him.

Harry sits opposite you at the long table in the private dining room.

You nurse a glass of rosé and eat the food slowly, savouring it. You deliberated over the menu for a long time before settling on what to order, you've seen photos of most of the dishes online, but there were several new ones too. Harry goes off your recommendations but spends a lot of the dinner talking to the people sitting beside him. He knows if he tried talking to you right now, he'd just get lost in you, which is both rude for a birthday party and bound to be too conspicuous.

You insert yourself into a conversation with the girls sitting next to you and pretend you're good at making friends. They spend most of the meal talking about something that was on the telly the night before. You were on shift so missed it, but pretend to be interested or like you might've seen it—anything to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Harry watches you out the corner of his eye the whole time. You've shrugged off your jacket, and he recognises the gold necklace you've got around the collar of your dress, sitting over the black fabric on your chest. He's pretty sure it was a gift from Gemma a few years ago, you wear it all the time. Harry makes a note to get you something that compliments it for your birthday coming up. You're chatting to one of his mate's girlfriends and Lisa who's been on his publicity team for years. Those would've been the two he'd have introduced you to first as well. He can't stop watching the way your lips turn up every time something funny is said, or one of the girls makes eye contact with you. Watching you try with his other friends always makes Harry feel warm and giddy for some reason.

Fuck, he's missed you. And he berates himself for the fact he never seems to remember that until he sees you again. (It's strategic usually, his heart doesn't take your company well when he knows you're going home to someone else) You're so engaging and kind and unintentionally charming, and you always have time for him. Harry knows he's not an easy human to be friends with; he constantly ducks in and out and is never around for the big things, let alone being available to call on a random day to just hang out with. The friendship is always on his terms, and he knows it makes him a selfish prick. You definitely could've done with a call a couple of months back when you had your heart broken. Like always, he missed it, and by the time he was sending you a message about an episode of Midsomer Murders, he felt as though the moment to console you had passed, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to the fact he wasn't around for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps back around to the person next to him, thoughts still on you across the table. He agrees with whatever was said and does his best to catch up.

Harry's got to stop thinking about how you're single at the moment. He really does.

A few hours later, it's the girl sitting to your left, Lisa, who first mentions the idea of kicking on.

It's after dessert—after everyone sang happy birthday to Harry over a round of espresso martinis—and you're starting to think that if you leave now, you'll be home before midnight, which means the tube won't be too deserted to feel safe. You're also at a comfortable place to wake up without a hangover in the morning. Two cocktails and a glass of wine over dinner, because any more and you're scared you could say something stupid to the wrong (right) person.

Harry's face lights up, and he looks around the room, eager at the idea of going to a bar or two for more drinks. He's not been out in London for the longest time, and he's happily buzzed enough to not be too worried about running into people. Feels like this group of friends have gelled well together. How often does he get to have a night like this in London? Hardly ever.

"Yeah, let me sort out the tab and then we're good to go," Harry says, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up, his hands hunting his pockets for his wallet and phone, "I'll be right back."

When he goes, you decide now's as good a time as any to split. You pull your coat on and say goodbye to the friends you made over the meal. Lisa gives you her business cards as if speaking to you had been part of her job, you slip it straight into your coat pocket and can already picture it at the bottom of the garbage in your kitchen. You revisit the bathrooms, and when you come back out into the main restaurant area, Harry's still leaning against the front desk, chatting to the maître d' from earlier.

He feels your small hand land on his back and jolts upright at the contact, your gentle voice calling his name softly, "Harry, I'm going to head home."

He spins around, and you catch the fall of his face, "What? No … No. You're the one I want to hang out with the most," his bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow. "Y/N."

"Thanks a fuckin' lot, mate," you hear a male voice laugh at your back, they slip behind you and out into the chilly air, and Harry flips them the bird. You were pushed closer into his chest as they jostled past and he steadied you with his arms latched onto your forearms. Still watching outside, you see a cigarette lighter flare-up on the footpath and the end of an orange butt glow spectacularly in the night. When you glance back at Harry, he's not looking happy.

"Don't pout," you tell him lightly, you reach up and press the skin taut between his eyes smooth again, "Can't wrinkle that rockstar face of yours."

His face lights up, and his skin heats where you made contact, "You can't go yet."

"Harry," your features tangle into something like a grimace, "You'll have a better time without me. Everyone seems to be pretty tight—"

—Y/N," he gives you a final, pleading look, "Please come."

You make out like you're stomping your foot in defiance, "Fine."

"Score!" Harry cheers under his breath, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders and saying a final round of thank yous to the staff. When you're out on the street at Harry's side somebody mentions the name of the next place and points the direction of it, Harry places a hand on your shoulder as you start to walk and leans down to your ear, "I just have one condition for you coming."

You pull back and look at him, "I don't think you get conditions when you've begged me to be here."

"A birthday condition then," he edits, pressing his lips together and smiling at you with his eyes, "You have to promise to do what I say before I ask it."

You narrow your eyes at him, "I suppose you only turn twenty-seven once. You can have a single wish from me."

Harry laughs and slips his fingers under the strap of your evening bag, "Give me this."

You think briefly he means to carry it for you, which is a strange thing for Harry to request. But then he unzips it in front of you and starts rifling around inside it, slipping your phone under his arm so he can move around the lipstick and tissues and emergency Galaxy bar to eventually pull out your small purse.

"Harry! What are you—

—Ah, ah!" He holds it all away from you and reminds you of the promise. "This is mine for the night," he says, slipping your purse into his coat pocket. "Otherwise you'll end up buying too many rounds."

You try to sneak your hand into the pocket after your wallet, "Don't be stupid. It's your birthday, I'll buy every round if I need to."

"Exactly my point," he steps away from you down the street, and you skip to be back at his side. He's stolen your money and your chocolate bar.

"Harry, give it back."

"Nope," he pops the 'p' and hands you back the bag, the Galaxy bar hanging from between his teeth, still in the packet, "You promised. Now hurry up and walk, and I might give you a bite of this. 'm freezing my balls off, we are not in LA anymore."

So that's how you end up in the next bar, your handbag a little lighter, squished into Harry's side with a pleasantly sour cocktail he paid for between your fingers. The booth is so far into the back wall you're not even really sure which direction the front door is anymore. Somehow, you've managed to sit ten people around a booth probably designed for six, but nobody seems to be bothered.

Your whole right side is on fire, though.

You can feel Harry from the top of your shoulder all the way to your ankle. His hip sits neatly next to yours, Harry's left elbow rests just above your right thigh, and your knees press together every time he gets excited when he speaks and unintentionally opens his legs up. If Harry's bothered by it there's no way you'd know, he's hardly looked at you since you all sat down, much less uttered a word of discomfort about the seating arrangements. Makes no sense really, when he seemed so desperate for you to stay out with them.

(Next to you Harry's felt like he was high most of the time, he's flashing in and out of the conversations around him. Because he can smell your perfume—Stella by Stella McCartney, he'd know that fragrance anywhere, you've been wearing it since you were seventeen—and you're warm and snug beside him. He feels completely insane. But he also feels inflated with a heart-crushing joy at having you so close. He's trying his best not to draw attention to it or to you because what he's always liked most about your friendship is that you're just his. God, he needs to do better at seeing you more often, talking more, being more. Each breath as he's touching you is like a crack of electricity through his chest that aches beautifully. Nobody else feels like this. Even when he's dated, what he's felt with them can't hold a candle to his boyhood crush on you.)

You sip your drink and laugh at the embarrassing story that's being told about Harry, oblivious to his torment. Oblivious to how Harry feels your forearm brush his leg and has the overwhelming desire to deposit his palm on your thigh and keep it there, probably forever.

It strikes you that the last time you saw Harry was before the current anecdote about him in Italy happened, and at the table, it's being spoken about as though it was ancient history. You wonder what historic classification your memory of thirteen-year-old Harry would get, that time he attempted to bleach his hair with lemon juice. He ended up with second-degree burns on his forehead from the acid reacting with the sun.

Or the time Gemma stayed in Holmes Chapel for the summer because she had her first boyfriend, and so you spent six weeks learning that maybe you'd been wrong about who your favourite Styles child was. Maybe the boy who, when you were eleven, didn't impress you much, suddenly at thirteen, demanded all your attention. Made that summer become the first where you considered your outfits and whether your mum sending you next door with homemade snacks made you look lame.

"… And of course, Harry can't walk away from a dance floor when he's on the tequila …" everyone around the table laughs. Harry peeks at you to make sure you are too, but he's not very good at it because you notice, a smile flares on your lips.

You're used to long periods of not seeing each other, it's how it's always been. Harry and Gemma spent the summers with their dad and then returned to Holmes Chapel for real life. Sometimes that's what it still felt like, as though each time you saw either of them you were acutely aware there was a foreign Real Life they would go back to without you.

Harry in particular. You were used to not seeing him for months on end, usually the whole school year. Just a few messages over MySpace and birthday cards, and then, when you were out of school, invites to parties Harry couldn't come to anymore—'I'm in Australia, how insane is that? Sorry, I'll miss your 18th …' or 'I can only stay until the 8th, could you maybe graduate a week earlier? ;)'—and emails every other month with a new mobile number for you to overwrite his contact in your phone with. You're not saying you feel hard done by in your friendship, you don't. It's just always very take-what-you-can-get with Harry.

"You've got your thinky eyes on," he's pivoted his whole body towards you, hips twisted in an entirely uncomfortable looking position. Harry's got his resting elbow on the table right next to where your hand holds your drink, and he's looking down at you with careful eyes, "Where are you?"

"The pool a dozen summers ago," you answer easily, pursing your lips together and running a knuckle along your hairline, "Thinking about your ah, burn incident."

Harry's face explodes in a grin, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling and then capture yours again, "For fuck's sake, you're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"You were a horrible blonde," you remark quickly, "If you ever so much as blink in the direction of a packet of bleach you have to call me, okay? I'll have no issue telling you, categorically, you should never dye your hair."

"Categorically," Harry mimics you childishly, "Alright, I get it, you went to uni. No need to use words with fifty syllables to make me feel stupid."

You bring your glass up to your lips, "Come off it, Harry, you're ten times smarter than me."

His forehead raises, "You're the cleverest person I know. Don't make me call Gem to confirm it."

"Don't bring your sister into this, Harry," you deadpan.

He goes to reply but holds back, something unnamable travelling across his eyes as he watches you lick your lips after taking another sip of your drink. Harry's leaning a little closer than he might usually, and despite the fact he's a few drinks in he still smells only of Tom Ford and clean clothes. He's just about to ask you what you're doing the next day when he gets hit in the side of the head with a coaster.

"Hey," he cries out, pulling back from you and frowning around at the group trying to figure out who the culprit is," 'M the fucking birthday boy, watch it."

Lisa is the girl directly across from Harry and yourself, and she's is the one who threw it. She's giving Harry a coy smile and holds up her empty glass to him, a not so subtle request makes the drink in your hand feel like a concrete brick. Something dirty you don't like having. She's got captivating blue eyes and straight blonde hair—exactly Harry's usual type. Your heart sinks as he slides out of the booth next to you, laughing at her flirtatious request and taking a tally of who else wants a new drink.

"Y/N?" Your name is delicate on his lips, and it makes you want to cry. Why is it so easy for you to make things feel like they mean more with him?

You direct your smile his way, "I'm good, thanks."

His head tilts to one side, "You sure?"

"Positive," you nod, feeling your cheeks burn as everyone watches the exchange.

"Okay," Harry taps the table with the corner of his phone, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, you sneak off to the bathroom, happy to see Harry's beaten you back from the bar when you return. He's sitting in your spot, deep in conversation with the person beside him who you recognise from the radio. Tentatively, you slip in next to him, careful not to touch him this time. Harry's got his hand casually resting on the table, turning your glass forty-five degrees one way and then back the other way as he speaks. You think about reaching over and pulling it out of his hand gently (you're losing your buzz, and Little Miss Bombshell across the table has made you feel silly and juvenile) but it looks to be an almost serious conversation, so you don't. With a smile plastered on your face, you look around the table, resisting the urge to pull out your phone to check if either of your flatmates has text you to meet up with them somewhere.

It's a delicious whiff of your perfume behind him that turns Harry's head. You're back from the bathroom, although nobody was able to confirm that's where you went when he got back from the bar and asked after you. Harry pushes your drink over and gives you a smile, taking note of the fresh layer of lipstick and messy oomph to your hair that perfectly shows off the new style and bangs.

Golden, he thinks, As always,

"Your new hair really does look beautiful," Harry tells you, the bar stilling around you as his face becomes all the world is for you at that moment, "Next time, don't wait for a dickhead to break your heart before doing something to make yourself feel good."

You swallow down the thickness in your throat, "Thanks, Harry."

Walking to the next bar, Harry can't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?"

You kick your foot out as you wait at a set of traffic lights, half the group ran to cross, but you, Harry and a couple of others were too slow, "What happened with what?"

Harry watches his breath fan out in front of his face, "With your ex, with …"

"Tim."

"Tim, yeah," he turns to look down at you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, "What happened with Tim?"

"Nothing really," you start strong, then shrug one shoulder as you think about it. It's safe to cross so you wait until you're stepping up over the gutter and onto the opposite footpath before you continue, "Probably a lot of little things but … Always felt like he thought I was asking for a bit too much. I guess in the end he just didn't like me all that much."

The way your voice drops kills Harry, he's not detecting self-deprecation but something far worse. He's detecting acceptance or acknowledgement or like you're confessing some truth that should have been obvious.

"Y/N," he stops walking and halts you as well, lets Adrian and Lisa walk around and out in front of you, "If he didn't like you very much then he's got some kind of chemical imbalance. I mean it, this guy's not worth a second of your heartache."

It's not like Harry's a dickhead about it, not like he thinks you should date people with more money or status or who are more impressive. A person isn't their job or what car they drive, he knows that. Harry's not about judging anyone, but you really do seem to date guys not worthy of you. He hasn't met many of them, but Harry knows this to be true because if they were worthy, you simply wouldn't be single right now. If you dated someone half-decent, there wouldn't be a chance in hell they'd let you go. You're beautiful and thoughtful and intelligent and funny—so funny—which means Harry knows without a doubt that this Tim guy was an absolute fuckwit.

"It's not necessarily about the guy," you start and Harry can hear the thick emotion in your voice, "Is it? It's about the idea. The disappointment is more about not getting the fairytale, not finding my person. Not getting the whole package everyone else seems to have found. I know Tim wasn't right—truth be told I didn't end up liking him very much either—doesn't stop me from being sad that I still haven't found it."

"'It'… That's what you're looking for?" Harry asks, eyes out front where the rest of the group are all stopped waiting at another set of traffic lights.

They're laughing and chatting loudly to other people on nights out, and hanging off street poles to get funny pictures. He doesn't want to catch up to them, not when the two of you are in the middle of this conversation that's making his heart race and his hands sweat. He starts taking smaller steps.

"Yeah," you breathe out, almost sounding ashamed of yourself, "Don't seem to be looking in the right places."

Look over here, Harry thinks.

"But I mean, each breakup I end up getting something out of it," you've flicked your positivity switch, "This time I got these boots and bangs," you kick out your foot and watch Harry take note of your footwear, "Last break up I got four houseplants and a new watch … It's not all bad. What about you?" you turn it back on Harry, "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

It's hard to tell with Harry. You either find out from his sister or sometimes, social media. Although that's all usually trash. Generally, when Harry's seeing someone, you'll hear it confirmed from Gemma, and the next time you see Harry, it'll be something you're assumed to know. You haven't seen Gemma since Christmas time though, for your annual festive get together, and she didn't mention anything. Tim had ended things with you a few days before, so that was the main topic of conversation.

"No," Harry confirms what you'd already deduced—and hoped—in your head, "Not for a while now."

"Got your eye on anyone?" You quiz faux cheekily, your smile a little too wide.

Yes, you, he says to himself as he looks at the side of your face.

You hope he's not got some girl in LA he's into. Just like you'd hoped his answer to the previous question. But the hope was silly, something that bloomed in your chest each time you saw him and died again before you were home in your bed, alone.

"I'll let you know," he says aloud.

You think you see something else there in his expression, but you know you can't have. Your mind is swirling, and you're feeling a tingling sensation all over that you know you shouldn't. It'll only leave you disappointed when you part ways tonight and don't see him for another few months. The tiny bits of maybe mores and perhaps are dangerous to things to cling on to now, they'll all turn into Nothings very quickly.

Someone steals his attention away from you when you get to the next street corner. Most of the group are gathered there, and you're not sure whether to believe it when Lisa says they missed the green man to cross the road because they were talking. She sides up to Harry and starts waving her hands around in an animated story about something or other. Harry crosses the street with her, and you give him up for the night.

But he's acutely aware of what's happened. Harry's not stupid—he's emotionally intelligent, and spent enough time with Lisa on nights out before—and he can see that she's deliberately pulled him aside. He likes her, quite a bit, but she doesn't make his insides flip, or his toes curl. She's firmly Just A Friend. Harry hasn't spent countless hours over the years thinking about her, lying to himself about how he's completely fine when she starts dating someone new. He's never thought about an alternative life, one where he stayed at school and went to uni and got a regular job and maybe (definitely) ended up with her.

He's imagined that life with you—more than once. More than a dozen times, if he's honest. For years now, Harry's bitten his tongue and smiled through the pain of not being able to have you. And sure, most of the time it's a dull ache, deep in the recess of his mind, that needs to be called on or conjured to really be felt, but it's always been there. He's always had an (Astronomical) Soft Spot For You. Ever since that summer you broke your arm falling off the back of the ramp at the skate park, and he first saw you cry. At fifteen he didn't know what the hollow but sharp pain through his heart was as he rushed to your side, but now he knows that was the first sign he didn't see you as just a mate. Would never again see you as just a mate.

And now, hearing you use the word 'it'. You say you're out there dating idiots trying to find it and Harry's just unwaveringly sure he that could be him. He wants to be it for you.

You've pulled out your phone and fallen behind, face pulled down as you type away furiously. Harry watches you out of the corner of his eye, half just to watch you and half to make sure you don't get separated entirely from the safety of the group.

"Y/N," he calls out, unable to keep up with Lisa's story and unwilling to try to tune back into it. She stops short, and annoyance flits across her face, but Harry still turns to you, still crosses his arms over his chest and gives you his best scolding look, "It's the oldest trick in the book," he goads you. Lisa sighs behind him, and he ignores it.

Your head slowly comes up and takes in Harry (and Lisa sulking behind him), "What is?"

"Fallin' behind so you can peek at my bum."

You point at the long coat Harry's wearing that goes to his knees, "Can't see half of you under that thing."

"Ah, ha!" He calls out, his pointer finger floating in the air right in front of your face, "So you've tried."

You shove his shoulder and step around him, trying like anything to act neutrally. You're aware Lisa is still watching on, and you're not used to your friendship with Harry being quite so carefully observed. You know your face has gone red and you're really not going to involve yourself in a pissing contest with her. It's not classy and certainly not your vibe.

As you walk away, boots clip up behind you, and Harry heavily drapes his arm right across your shoulders, pulls you into his side, "Was just teasin', love."

"I know," you respond quietly, not upset, not really.

"Though I might've made you sad," Harry continues solemnly, "Know you get embarrassed in front of people."

Your face cracks into a smile, "Opposite of you, hey, you're practically an exhibitionist."

He should flirt because you've led him to a pretty easy window into a dirty joke, but something has Harry hanging onto his regret, "I mean it, shouldn't tease you …Should be old enough to use my words, tell you what I think."

You've got no idea what he's on about, "Harry, the teasing was fine. Where's this bloody bar though?"

Up ahead, everyone's standing on the footpath in a clump. Harry can feel the next words on his lips but has to hold them in when his mates turn and see he's finally caught up. They're waiting a few minutes for a table, someone explains, then they'll be able to go in. Harry thinks how little he feels like another drink at another bar. A few people walk away from the group to share cigarettes. You're standing a little bit away, under the sign for the butcher next-door and kick your foot back against the wall like the slight movement might warm you up.

As he steps up to you, Harry watches you get distracted by the group of people spilling out of the bar you're all about to go into. He doesn't want to take advantage of knowing you're newly single also doesn't want to let this opportunity pass. You're always dating someone, or he is, or there's some other reason not to. There's always a reason to hold back from you and Harry refuses to believe it's the drinks he's had nudging him into this. Neither of you is drunk, he wouldn't even say he's tipsy anymore. Just warm and contemplative and less inhibited than usual.

"C' mere," he calls softly, the tips of his boots landing right in front of yours, your bodies a hands' width apart. He wants you closer.

"Harry—

He opens up his coat to you and when you don't move—your brain is busy short-circuiting—he acts for you and winds his arm around your shoulder to encase you in the warmth, "Get in," Harry says, "You're shivering."

You're shocked by the contact, at him being so close and inviting you in and then just taking you in his jacket. He's wrapped the lapels around both your bodies and forced you against his chest. He hums against you, but you're feeling incredibly awkward with your arms hitched up against your chest and pressed rigidly into his shoulders. You've not been in a hold like this before and certainly not with Harry.

He pulls back and digs around for your wrists, "You've gotta put them around me," he stretches his arms behind his back, taking yours with them and instructing you to really settle against him. "There, that's better," he wraps the jacket back around you, and the two of you stand like that—hearts pressed together, scents converging and your whole frame shaking against his—for what seems like far too long for it mean nothing. Right? Your thoughts ricocheted around inside his jacket and go nowhere, solve nothing in your mind.

Over your shoulder, he sees the rest of the group have gone into the bar. He's not surprised none of them called out, Harry's angled you both away from the door and with his head ducked down against yours they probably (hopefully) missed you both there.

It's Harry's twenty-seventh birthday, and maybe that's made him sullen or introspective. Made him think about the passage of time and how another year has passed him by, yet here he stands in the same place as ever—wanting you. Wishing for more, or waiting for a moment that feels right, or hoping something will happen. With growing older comes a sense of regret and an acceptance that twenty-six has happened and anything he wanted to achieve by that age but didn't he never will. There's only the future. Only the things he can do. And the mix of all that with the cocktails has Harry feeling as though he has to act on this. Every birthday he thinks maybe by the next one the Somethings or the Maybes might have happened, and you won't be standing in front of him as just his friend.

"Always had a thing for you," Harry says, his chin resting against the crown of your head while his arms link around low on your back, holding you against him, "I've always liked you more than I should."

Oh god, you think, your chest freezing in place, I'm hallucinating.

"What?" Now your heart is really racing. Or maybe it's completely stopped, seized up and fallen out of your chest onto the salt-covered footpath.

His voice comes out evenly as he repeats himself, "Feels bigger than a crush, but I guess that's what it is … Since we were kids."

(Oh, how those words have been his best-kept secret for all these years but now, in less than two seconds, he's let go of them more easily than almost anything else he's ever done)

"Y/N?"

Harry thought he'd be scared. Thought this would be a moment of panic. Every time he's imagined this he's thought 'and I'd be absolutely shitting myself because what if she doesn't feel the same way?' but now that he's said it he's almost completely calm. The only reason he's worried is that he can feel how hard your heart is beating—even through the layers of clothing—and surely that quickly can't be good for your health.

You're speechless, and he leans back so he can see your face and, oh your eyes. Why on earth didn't he say it to your face, so he could be looking in your eyes? Watch his words project across your expression and settle into your mind.

You look worried, and Harry's transported back to that time he had you on FaceTime when he was somewhere on tour with One Direction. He was telling you about how management was going to let them fly friends out on tour, bring a little bit of home along and give the boys some needed space from each other. You were nodding along and so excited for him but sure Harry was talking about someone else, that this was just news and he'd called up to tell you how he was inviting the boys he went to school with in Cheshire or people he met through X-Factor. Of course I'm bringing out you and Gem, you idiot, he'd told you when you were surprised to get an invite, Who else did you think I was talking about?

He kind of loves watching the look on your face right now, the cogs turning in your head and wheels spinning, furiously trying to figure out what Harry means.

Why isn't he terrified of what you're about to say?

"Why … but you've… and I've…"

Your hands have moved to his hips so you can see him properly, and Harry's encouraged by the fact you haven't pulled away or pushed him off you. You're watching him with a puzzled look on your face and a burning heat across your cheeks.

He brings his forearms up to rest on your shoulders and smiles at you, "I wasn't brave enough to act on it … Guess I didn't want to fuck it up. Didn't want it to not work out. Couldn't stand you becoming an ex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." You don't seem capable of more than one word at a time.

"You feel bad for yelling at me about the chocolate bar now, don't you?" Harry's narrowed his eyes playfully.

That does it.

Your eyes snap back up to his face from being fixated on staring at his neck, "Chocolate bar … No, what the fuck, Harry."

He laughs. A real laugh that comes from the base of his tummy and squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his nose. His head falls back, and it's a deep, uninhibited laugh, "Don't stomp your new boots at me," he eventually says, crooking his head down to be almost pressing his forehead against yours. "You've been my favourite girl for years, I've always been a pansy idiot who didn't want to wreck the friendship."

"Oh, and now you don't mind wrecking it?" You bark back sarcastically, unsure why you're angry at him but you are.

"No," Harry says softly, moving through your emotional responses seamlessly, "I don't think it's going to wreck it, do you? Think twenty-seven has finally given me the balls to pursue it. To tell you how I feel. How I've always felt."

Your eyes instantly ball with hot tears you weren't prepared for, "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agrees readily, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Why have you told me this now," your voice is small, unsure.

Harry frowns, now he's starting to panic, "Do you … Do you not feel the same? Or do you not think maybe you could?"

Oh, if only he could have been in your head every time you saw him these last few years. Heard you talk yourself down and away from anything more than platonic, from any thoughts that might elevate you in his eyes. You've spent all this time trying to convince yourself to believe you were nothing more than a friend to him, and now this.

"Harry, are you sure you—

—I'm sure," he insists quickly.

"I just—

—I'm sure."

You're suddenly very embarrassed by the conversation the two of you had earlier about your ex. The conversation where you basically told Harry you're incredibly desperate to settle down and find The One. He's so achingly cool, and you feel like a little tinned tomato, thin-skinned and persistently flustered.

Tinned tomato? Really? You berate yourself, Case in bloody point.

"Y/N"

You scratch roughly at your forehead and grimace at whatever thoughts are going through your mind, "I'm just …"

Harry brings one hand up to fix your bangs, carefully sweeping the hair back across your forehead evenly, letting the pads of his fingers dust over your skin, "I think if you didn't feel the same you'd have said No by now."

His words steal the air from your lungs, "Harry, you've just always …"

"I've always?"

"I never thought …"

The smile comes up over his face gently, "It's me, Y/N, please finish a sentence. I'd really like to kiss you, but you haven't yet said anything to imply you'd be open to that …"

You pull your lips together like a reflex you can't help, you've rarely let yourself fall that deep into imaging things with Harry, but your body reacts to his words in an instant, "Promise you're not kidding …"

"I promise I'm not kidding," Harry said sincerely. "I'd never kid around about this, Y/N."

You believe him, and ten seconds of bravery comes over you, "I was thirteen."

His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out what you mean, "Thirteen?"

"My thing for you," you continue quietly, heart racing as adrenaline swamps your legs, "Started the summer I turned thirteen."

Harry hears the slight shaking to your voice and almost misses what you've said. Then it hits him.

"Oh yeah?" He squints at you and pulls up his nose with a smile, a secret little smile that will never belong to anyone but the two of you. The Smile that happened just before Harry leant down and kissed you for the first time, pressed his warm lips against your cold ones and really breathed you in.

He holds it like that for a moment, your lips touching but not moving. Then his hands come up to cup your face, and Harry moves his mouth to one side, just a touch. You open up to him, and he has the brief thought that this is probably the Most Important Kiss Of His Life. His insides curl in on themselves as he gets completely lost in you. Completely lost in how perfect this moment feels and how much finally kissing you feels like a relief.

You can't believe this is happening. You're still tucked into Harry's coat—warm and safe—but now you're joined at the mouth, and Harry's a really really good kisser. He's got his thumbs pressed into your cheeks and his fingers laced through the hair around your ears. When his tongue first licks your bottom lip and then goes searching for yours, you don't think you've felt yourself flicker On so quickly. A soft moan escapes your lips, and Harry's kiss somehow becomes harder, his nose bumping yours where he'd been good at keeping things smooth until then. As quickly as it intensifies, Harry takes a slight step back and drags his mouth away from yours.

"Y/N," he breaths out your name, sealing your lips with one of his thumbs as he pulls back. Harry's taking stock of your face (hopefully) getting used to being this close to you. Noting the way your eyelashes kink out at an odd angle right at the corner of your eye, and the freckle that's so close to the edge of your mouth he's never noticed it before. Harry's can feel your heart has slowed down, and the expression on your face right now is content, but curious. He's also sure he can see fear under it all.

"Well," your voice shakes, because Harry's looking at you like you've only dreamed and now that you're here you're not really sure what happens next. You kissed Harry.

He clears his throat lightly and his hands both fall to hold either side of your neck, "There's no way I'm going back to not being able to do that whenever I want."

Then, he kisses you again. You feel yourself melt against him as Harry's chest presses back against yours. You link your arms around his waist, clutching the back of his shirt between your fingers as Harry leads the kiss with a hand on your neck and the other holding your chin carefully. You've picked up right where the last one let off, hungry and exploring and a little bit desperate (perhaps a lot desperate) to have more of each other.

But then his phone rings in his trousers pocket, right against your hip, and you jump away in surprise.

"Shit," Harry mutters, pulling the stupid machine out, cursing the universe, "Sorry … It's Aiden," he tells you with an eye-roll.

And then you're back to reality. Your drinks have all worn off, your feet ache, your ears are freezing, and you've just made out with one of your oldest, best friends. Shit.

"Oh," you take a hearty step back, hands slipping out from Harry's coat and your body bracing the full brunt of the cold night, "Yeah … That's—

—Aiden," Harry barks the name of his mate down the phone while at the same time hooking his free arm around the back of your neck and pulling you close again. He's not giving up touching you that easily, and he doesn't care, quite frankly, about giving you any room to start internalising or retreating from him, "No, we've gone to get some food … I'll see you during the week sometime. Tell everyone thanks for—Yes, I'm serious … I don't care, saw all you lot last week … I'm hanging up now. Bye."

You listened in on the conversation because it was really all you could do. Aiden was obviously inside the bar, and they were all wondering where Harry got to. We've gone to get some food, Harry told him, so they'd know he was with you. (You supposed he was hardly going to say, 'oh yeah we've been out the front making out') Bits and pieces of the other end of the conversation, you were able to pick up on, but not enough to truly know what was said. By the end of the call, Harry was smiling though, you could hear it in his voice.

His nose found the shell of your ear and Harry leant into you, "Come back to mine, or we can go to yours … Watch a movie, play Scrabble, anything … Just wanna be with you."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Harry," you murmur, your mind struggling to make sense of what's just happened. You're outside a club in Soho held against Harry's chest with lips that know what he tastes like and a body that's on fire.

"I'm not tired," he shoots back, "Are you?"

"Well, no but—

—Great," Harry turns towards the road, takes a few steps to the curb (you trot along with him under his arm), as he flags down a black cab. "Mine or yours?"

His question is simple, he prompts you to answer by calling your name as he opens the door for you and gestures for you to hurry up and get in.

"Yours," you say.

Harry doesn't speak much in the cab, you figure it's about privacy. You hope it's about privacy. The thirty-minute drive out of the city and to his place feels much longer. Halfway through he reaches over for your hand and gives you a reassuring smile across the back seat. You thought the journey might make you sleepy, the sitting down in a warm car would bring the haze over your eyes and bring the long day to a close in your mind. But you could never feel sleepy with Harry's fingers playing with yours, or when he leans over and kisses your cheek for no reason at all.

At his house, Harry tells you to make yourself at home while he turns on the kettle for a cuppa. You kick your boots off in the hallway, and your feet start throbbing in relief as you follow his retreating form. It's certainly not the lusty, hurried entry you imagined you might have. Which only plants doubts in your mind about what's actually going on between the two of you.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," you call out ahead of you, turning back to the stairs and taking yourself up to Harry's second storey.

Upstairs you don't take long. You're looking a little worse for wear—who wouldn't at 3am—but you're not really in the mood to try to fix yourself. Even if you did Harry would notice, and that felt like something you wanted to avoid. As you walk back to the landing, you wriggle your toes in your socks and happen to look back down the upstairs hallway. You've been in this house dozens of times before but this time feels different. It feels quiet and intimate somehow. Just as you're about to go down the first step, you see Harry's bedroom door is open on the opposite side of the stairs to the bathroom, and you notice something that makes you stop.

The book you got him for Christmas is sitting on his bedside table.

You're standing over it before you realise that your legs have started moving, looking at a picture of Anne, Gemma and Harry, a bottle of water and the book. You pick it up, the cover a little bent and the spine cracked to where he's read. Harry's using the birthday card you send along with the gift as a bookmark. The top of the familiar design sticking out the top of the pages, you can't even really remember what you wrote inside. Something generic probably. Platonic.

Happy birthday, old man! Have a wonderful day, sorry I can't be there in person. Love, Y/N.

The floorboard at the top of the stairs creaks and you turn around to Harry looking surprised to see you standing over his bed. He's got two cups of tea and a family-sized Dairy Milk bar under his arm. Something churns inside you, this was Harry as you'd always known him. Except now you looked at his lips and wondered why the hell you weren't kissing him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been reading that," Harry sees the book in your hands and walks towards you, "It's excellent, unsurprisingly."

A smile starts on your face, "You doubted my selection ability?"

"Never," he returns quickly and then raises his eyebrows at you, "Looking for anything else?"

You feel your cheeks heat and you drop the book back into its place, "No, sorry, I was coming down the stairs and saw … I'm sorry."

Harry passes you a tea, "It was really kind of you to send something over. Was fun having something to unwrap on the day."

"I'm glad," you smile and take a sip of the tea. It's sweet, and you screw up your face, "This is yours."

Harry watches you with a strange expression on his face as the two of you swap mugs. He's worrying his bottom lip, obviously weighing something up in his mind. You see it when he decides what he' going to do about it.

"I've got something I want to show you," he tells you finally, tilting his head back to the door. "Wanna come see?"

"What is it?" You ask automatically, but Harry's already walking out the door, and you have to hurry to catch up.

He leads you into his study, and you hover in the doorway as Harry sets his tea and the chocolate down on the desk. He pulls Bananagrams out of the draw and places it next to the mug.

"We're actually going to play Bananagrams?" You ask.

He looks back at you, "You'd prefer actual Scrabble?"

"I didn't know what you meant by—I guess I …"

Realisation dawns on his face, and he widens his eyes, "Oh, you thought it was a euphemism."

"No!" You snap back quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks (for the record, yes, you thought 'a movie or Scrabble' was a thinly veiled way of Harry suggesting … something else), "No, I just … I just don't think I'll be able to spell words right now."

"I didn't think you were still tipsy" Harry states, shit-stirring.

"I'm not!" You squawk at him. "I'm… I' m—You kissed me!"

He grins, loving the fact he's driven you a little crazy, "Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

Harry's playing with you. He's teasing. And you know it but what you don't know is how he's so confidently jumped to it. Not when you feel like you've been left on the street outside the bar trying to figure out what the hell this means, and what's going to happen tomorrow when he stops looking at you like that. You don't like to think this whole night could've been him playing with you, you don't know Harry to be that cruel. But there's a tripwire in your mind you keep getting snared on.

It's Harry.

"C' mere," he reaches his hand down across the room between you both, "C' mere and kiss me again. You don't seem to be getting it."

"Getting it?" You're cut off by Harry taking two big steps toward you and then planting his lips on yours again.

His palms find your hips, and you hold him in the same spot. It takes a moment for the two of you to find a rhythm, and even then, you're too in your head. You're struggling to remember what little Harry's said about this whole thing. You know he said he had a crush on you and you've gotten the distinct impression he wasn't too fond of your ex. But for all you know Harry's been kissing his mates like this for years but just never gotten around to kissing you. You might've been next on the list. He's a friendly guy. Maybe a crush isn't what it used to be. Or maybe—

He pulls back from your lips with a huffy expression on his face, "Y/N," he says quietly, "I'm a man with an incredibly fragile ego, whatever you're worrying about is really getting in the way of kissing you."

"I'm just—

—Let me show you what I brought you in here for," he interrupts you, takes your hand and tugs you towards the window. Then, he puts a hand on each of your shoulders and directs your attention to the wall.

It's lined with record sale plaques for singles and albums over the years—double Platinums and Gold-Somethings. Harry watches you eyes run over them all, a proud but unsure look in your eye. You're not sure why he's showing them to you, he knows that. He hopes you're not intimidated by them, he's certainly not showing you to try to score any points. There's a sweeter gesture behind it. He points to one leaning against the wall, not hanging. He's got it resting on the bubble wrap it was sent over in.

Stepping up closer behind you, Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, "That one's for you."

"What?"

"I want you to have it, been saving it for you … If I ever got brave enough."

The question falls from your lips before you really think about it, "Why would you want me to have it …"

Harry waits to see if you'll let on you've figured it out, he thought it was pretty obvious really, but you've never been one to elevate yourself or assume, and Harry knows that about you. So, when you don't keep talking, he confirms it for you, "That song is about you."

You just blink, eyes on the framed plaque taking in the name of the song and hearing it in your head.

It's about me? You think you want to hear it, you need to Google the lyrics and make sure you have them right in your head. Harry wrote a song about you. Harry wrote that song about you.

"When … When did you write it?"

"You mean why?" Harry raises his head and steps to stand next to you, he observes your face carefully.

"No, I mean when." You're starring at it like the plaque might answer the question, "When did you write it?"

Harry runs a hand over his head as he thinks, "A few years back, after that time you came out to LA … Didn't record it until this year though …"

Harry watches your face expand in surprise and then crumple back down to confusion. You really don't get it. He's not sure how to make you in one night. He supposes he can't. So he trails his hand up the back of your arm and then around your back, tilting his head down and waiting to see if you'll pull away. When you don't, he kisses the corner of your mouth and then opens his wider to take you lips in his properly.

It's different to the kisses outside the bar, now that you're both out of your outer layers Harry can feel your body against his in ways he's only dreamed, and it's sending everything straight between his legs. Harry's hands explore your back and the curve of your hips, thumbs almost reaching the underside of your breasts but not quite. It's a little awkward when he senses you've felt him hardening between you. Usually, lust clouds that moment, and Harry doesn't mind intimate partners being acutely aware of how they're affecting him. But with you he's a little hesitant, he senses the awkwardness on your side. Friends don't feel those body parts on each other, friends don't… He almost groans when your mouth leaves his without warning.

You think he'll probably change his mind about all this.

"Have you changed your mind?" You ask, not able to stop it.

Confusion colours his features, and his lips smack together, like he's savouring tasting you, "Wha—

"About wanting to be kissing me," you clarify.

"What? No." Harry's eyebrows have shot up, and he's shaking his head, "I barely even started! Didn't I just say I wrote that song about you—why the hell would I—want to do more than just kiss you—You think I'm gonna change my mind?"

You shrug, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well," he stands up straighter and pins you with his stare, "I'm not. I promise I'm not going to change my mind. And I promise I'll never make you feel like you're asking for too much. Ever."

"Now you're trying to make me cry," you say, hearing him repeat back to you the insecurity leftover from your conversation about your ex. You're half kidding with your words but also not. You believe him. You trust him.

Harry grimaces, sways your bodies together gently, "I really hate seeing you cry, could you not? I had other plans."

You sniff through a laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your middle tighter," What plans are those?"

"Well, I literally thought Scrabble," he tells you through a smile, trying his best to make you laugh, "But I'm open to whatever dirty things you were thinking as well."

"You'll win Scrabble."

So, Harry instructs you to bring your tea and your sore feet back into his bedroom. He gets you a fluffy pair of hiking socks and tells you to take yours off, and your tights, and get comfortable on the bed with him and the block of chocolate. You've polished off a family size together before, the sugar going straight to your heads and always leading to a giggly night of reminiscing and Almosts.

This time though, you only get halfway through the tea and Harry pushes the chocolate off the bed onto the floor in favour of you straddling his hips. It started with a stolen kiss against your temple, and then another on your cheek, and one close to your lips, and then you captured his face in your hands and really kissed him. Within a few moments, Harry was dragging you over to him. His hands settle on the swell of your backside as it sits against his thighs and your lips trace the line of his jaw. This was really happening. You'd really let him peel off your dress and flick off your bra. His shirt was somewhere with the forgotten snacks, and you seemed extremely eager to keep feeling his hardness pressed between your legs.

"I swear to god, I never dreamed this would happen," he murmurs, hissing when your hips pressed into his at a different angle, "Was sure I'd be going to your wedding one day, completely miserable and probably end up drunk and causing a scene. Embarrass you so badly you'd never want to see me again, and you'd just run away with your stupid husband."

You pull back and watch Harry ramble, your bare chest rising and falling against his, "You're a real glass half full kinda guy, aren't you?" you smile at him.

"I just," his eyes drop to your chest, nipples puckered for him, and he scrunches them shut then drops his forehead onto your sternum with a big sigh, "This is fucking unreal, and my brain is just struggling to comprehend—you're breathtaking, and I feel like my chest is gonna explode."

"It's also 4am, so there's always the potential your brain is just plain tired," your index finger is drawing circles on the back of his shoulder as Harry leans against you, you pause and run your hand over the back of his head, "Maybe we should sleep for a little … I'll be here when you wake up," you say in response to Harry squeezing his arms around your waist tightly as if you were going to disappear. Or worse, leave.

His indescribable green eyes find yours in the light from the bedroom lamps, "Will you let me hold you while you sleep?"

"Yeah," you nod, although somehow that question seems more intimate than the lack of clothes between you at the moment. You're distinctly less dressed than Harry, who's still got his trousers on, you're only covered by your underwear.

"We don't have to rush this, right? Got all the time in the world now," still, as he speaks his palms trail up your back and then down again, skimming the sides of your breasts, "Just don't wanna miss anything is all."

"I promise I'm incredibly boring in my sleep, won't miss anything," you tease, "Might be the only time you get any peace."

Harry tightens his forearms around your back and finds the soft skin below your ear with his lips—once, twice, three little kisses—"I feel pretty at peace right now, just having you here. Feels like I'm living a dream."

You don't reply for a moment, but you let your body rest against Harry's in a comfortable hug, your voice is quiet, "You really wrote me a song?"

"I did."

"I've always loved that song."

“Well, it's been yours all along."

"Nobody's ever written a song about me."

"I should hope not."

"Are you going to write another one?"

"Without a doubt."

Chat to me here

#OOOO SHIT what have i done #well #1dff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles X reader #harry styles stories #harry styles imagines #harry fic

1K notes · View notes

loth-wolffe · 3 years

Note

About that Fox post: i absolutely love you for writing it, thank you for that

Also, for your consideration:

- Where were you during the zillo beast attack?

- throwing a surprise birthday party for him?

- going shopping together

- I have a scenario that him dating an investigative journalist would be very chaotic, any thoughts?

- what's the friendship with his brothers like?

- why do i fell he would be good with kids? Like your nephew or something

- on that note, does he get the dad genes from Jango?

- post-war AU? in the timeline where Palpatine chokes and dies like he's supposed to

- Getting!! Married!! (eventualy)

many Fox thoughts today, many thoughts

sorry this is so long, I have little self control and a lots of love for fox. i love u so much for asking this and letting me explore what a life with fox would be like.

also I apologize for being a h*rny bitch and not controling myself, so nsfw thots are marked like this so if u wanna skip that's fine.

and uh, first I'm gonna answer the investigative journalist hc and base everything about this in that solely thought because that's a galaxy brain thing to say.

I have a scenario that him dating an investigative journalist would be very chaotic, any thoughts?

AHDJSJ I LOVE THIS. okay okay but I feel like because of this job this is exactly why you guys met, like you needed some info and you asked some shiny but he didn't know a thing and you were like "is there someone I can talk with about this?" and when he's about to reply, Fox enters in action and he's like "need anything?" but sO COCKY.

he hates journalists mostly because some of them treat the clones very badly and never talk about the casualties or that kind of stuff about war, right.

like, it would turn into this-- banter filled with sexual tension that would've ended up in a make out session if 1. fox didn't have that much of self control and two if he weren't wearing his bucket.

it'd be like

"listen man-"

"it's commander for you." a pause, "or sir."

or like

"i need to do other things if you don't mind."

"i can think of a few you could be doing right now." and the way your eyes run through his entire body, even if he's all covered in plastoid but damn you if he isn't the hottest man walking, and he actually shivers, and gulps, because it's not like he wasn't thinking about that either, pushing down your pants and railing you right then and there in that fucking filthy alley. he is well aware how his suddenly codpiece feels too tight, but you only smirk and go, "you know, like giving me the information I need?"

KDJSJ IMAGINE THE POWER. THE POSSIBILITIES.

it'd be so ridiculous, but you also caused this impression on him that when you turned away to go on your business he was dEVASTED, but he didn't want to let u know he actually liked you. He's stubborn, that man.

So by some miracle when you're investigating something, you guys run into each other bc he's on patrol or something and he's GIDDY. but also frozen in place bc he didn't think he would ever see you again, mostly because Coruscant is big and has too many people in it. and you're like

"ah, commander fox, isn't it?" and he quickly resumes to say something that shows how aNNOYED he pretends to be, but he ends up tagging alone because "these parts are not safe"

"oh?"

"you'd need protection."

and the smirk you have is sO ARROGANT because it's not your first rodeo.

"you wouldn't want to have a civvie getting killed or something on your watch now, would you?" and he clears his throat and nods sharply. and you give him this innocent eyes and bat your lashes, "my hero."

and if you think those words didn't do aNYTHING to him, you're mistaken u hear me, he's instantly hARD.

so anyways after that YOU ask him out, and he's like, stuttering and saying yes and all.

now some random thoughts on this magnificent hc.

• if it can't be himself, he would always have the men he trusts the most going on patrols around the zone you're around in case something happens.

• he lOVES when you rant about something new you discovered, and when he asks for mOre info bc he's a, how do you say chismoso?, he loves gossip??? anyways and you're like "nu huh, you gotta wait till tomorrow, foxie"

• he aLWAYS makes sure to read/see your job, either if you work for some newspaper, magazine, etc or if you're on the TV he nEVER misses it.

• if you work for the TV, his brothers are always like "fOX YOUR GIRL IS ON THE HOLONET LIKE RN!!!" and he gives them this bitch face because he kNOWS THANK YOU.

• alright but imagine going on dates with him and being like "did you know there was an investigation last year around this part that–?" ROMANCE AT ITS PEAK.

• if his shift ends before you even think of going home, he definitely joins you on your investigations.

Where were you during the zillo beast attack?

uhh, I think you'd be home, like maybe you turned in early and fox maybe didn't know, so he was almost in tears when he called you after the whole thing happened because he was so worried.

of course, during the attack, he tried to push the thought aside, bc I think all clones have this, uh, switch, that makes them not worry during missions that much? just like, have this thought here and there but nothing serious that would make them paralyzed and have a panic attack right there. but every second he thought of you and hoped you were alright.

unlike you, that were worried sick because you saw the chaos unfold, the troopers arriving in shuttles and the jedi doing whatever they were doing and you just heard destruction. you DID cried a bit and when fox called you, you cried even harder. and he was like "it's alright, I'm alright baby."

that night he hold you SO tight, whispering sweet nothings on your ear and never stopped kissing you once. you barely got any sleep because you were so afraid of waking up only to find out the other died on the attack and it was all a dream.

throwing a surprise birthday party for him?

AAAAAH THIS IS SO CUTE.

now, clones don't exactly have a birthday???? but he did all these nice things for your birthday (he and the boys baked you a cake that was sO UGLY and tasted a bit weird) so you thought you could surprise him too.

it's most likely he gives you the date when he graduated from Kamino or something and for all the years you're with him, you never miss his "birthday" at first you did something quiet, like a dinner at your place, bought him something nice, gave him a bath or something and spoiled the shit out of him.

so for the second year, you threw him a party in his office, made him this cake or whatever and decorated with red and white balloons and invited a few troopers that wanted to help you and he was stoic for a moment, but then you were like "hAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and hugged him so tight and he relaxed under your touch and whispered this small "thank you baby"

everyone congratulated him and he was a bit awkward but when they start telling all these stories of them and fox on the job, he starts to loosen up a bit, so while everyone is eating cake he hugs you from behind and chuckling lowly in your ear as he listens to his brothers.

he dOESNT like pda like I said but he forgets for a moment because he just loves you sO SO SO SO MUCH. it's also easier for him to whisper filthy things into your ear and mumble how good you are for him, that he doesn't deserve you, that he can't wait for everyone to leave cause he wants to have his present (you) nipping your earlobe and making u all hot and bothered and would def fuck you nice and hard on his desk. yup

going shopping together

imagine, jUST IMAGINE, he'd look like your personal bodyguard 😭😭 like, he'd be behind you carrying most of your bags and people would look at you wondering who are you, why are you sO important to have the commander of the Coruscant guard with you???

but like, you don't care and fox doesn't even notice, and he'd be so attentive, faking to be both annoyed and uninterested but he'd see this nice shirt or dress or whatever and grumble something like "you'd look good on this" i just-

and like when you pass by the lingerie store, dUDE, he'd make you model for him, him sitting like he fucking owns the place, getting harder and harder every time he sees you in a new pair of underwear and when you show off this cute little red set. damn.

if you go to the market or something, he'd always love to show you these things like "look at that" or just pull you towards this stall and you'd adORE to show him stuff like, "ohh, fox here try this" or "what you think about this?" and stuff like that.

what's the friendship with his brothers like?

i think it'd be very easy-going and light, they would tease you sometimes, but they really like you, mostly because they see fox isn't as stressed as before and they see how happy he is when around you.

they think he deserve it, to have somewhere where he's free and loved, so yeah.

they sometimes ask him about you and never miss a chance to say hi when you stop by the office.

the boys absolutely ADORE you.

why do i fell he would be good with kids? Like your nephew or something. does he get the dad genes from Jango?

HE WOULD AND HE DOES.

like, I think at first he'd be very hesitant when it comes to children, like he'd be nervous when you introduce him to your niece and when you ask him if he wants to hold her, he says a quick no and just prefers to watch you, heart feeling funny when you make faces at the little baby in your arms.

at some point he dOES hold her, with such care and a gentleness that makes your heart flutter, and he coos softly as she sleeps soundly in his arms, rocking her with a delicacy you thought impossible from such hard man, and when he looks at you his eyes shine with this flash of something you can quite place but makes your heart skip a beat and think of how much you'd love to have this, with him, a little family, a baby that has his curls and maybe your eyes, a mix of your skin color with his and maybe his stubbornness completed by your charisma. a perfect little thing for you two to hold and care and love.

he'd be such a good dad, but then again every clone would be the most fantastic dad bc it's literally in their genes.

if you have a nephew that is, u know, older but still a kiddie, like 5 or 6, the lil boy would be aMAZED by fox, he'd love him so much, like imagine, always asking for the commander, wanting to play with him, asking fox to carry him eVERYWHERE, and at first fox would be like, shy and uncertain and he wouldn't know how to act until he accepts the fact that this little boy really likes him and looks up to him and fox becomes The Cool Uncle™

post-war AU? in the timeline where Palpatine chokes and dies like he's supposed to and Getting!! Married!! (eventualy)

well, in my post-war AU, clones get Rights™ and get paid and have vacations and stuff, sO, maybe you get to have Fox for a little more time and his schedule isn't as bad as it was during the war, so maybe after the war you get home to a nice dinner and fox using this silly apron and sometimes you come home early just so you can cook with him.

maybe you go on holidays to these nice places, going to the beach or the woods and finally settling somewhere quiet, start a family in this nice house or if you don't want kids then it's just the two of you and maybe a few pets.

i think the wedding would be officiated in Coruscant, of course, so his brothers and your fam can go, he'd definitely cry when he see you walking down the isle or when you put the ring on his finger and he'd be so so so happy, dancing with you all night, being so clingy because he's just Over the moon, y'know, kissing your cheeks and neck, whispering how lucky he is and how much he loves you, and how good you look, never leaving your side and always leaning over with pouty lips for you to kiss him.

when he proposed it was during one of your sweet, soft times with him, maybe in the aftertaste of your sexy times, as he holds you close to his chest, fingers running up and down your skin, as he stares at the ceiling and the question comes out as if he were talking about the weather, his heartbeat is slow and steady and it's one of those times he feels confident and sure.

you have talked about a future together, so he knows you'd say yes.

it's more a statement than a question, really.

"marry me." he would say, so quietly, almost a whisper. and when you look up you only find this beautiful emotion filling his eyes.

"what?" you just want to make sure you heard right, he'd smile softly, cup your cheek and as his thumb caresses your skin he'd whisper.

"will you marry me?"

you oBVIOUSLY say yes while ugly sobbing.

#ANYWAYS #i love fox #i love him your honor #I LOVE HIM #commander fox x reader #commander fox #headcanons #ted talks with ari

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bloomyn · 4 years

Text

slide into the drivers seat ; 01

in which your boss is one hell of a ride and you’re sitting shotgun.

table of contents

pairing: chrollo lucilfer x f!reader

disclaimer: i know absolutely nothing about business school, so please disregard all inaccurate numbers

taglist: @kakashishoekage @revalise

. . .

so apparently a business degree doesn’t get you a job immediately after grad school.

the 85,000 dollar piece of paper that’s still in an envelope sitting on your dinner table is worthless, wonderful. well, not worthless per se, but it’s definitely not going to be helping you anytime soon, and by that you mean it doesn’t take an 85,000 dollar degree and four years of business school with privileged males (gross!) who think they know everything for you to answer a phone and schedule a meeting.

but a job at phantom inc., even if it is being a secretary, is a much better bargain that you could’ve ever asked for. that’s what you tell yourself as you ride the elevator up to the 56th floor, “that’s where you’ll want to be!” the front desk secretary had told you, “shizuku will be expecting you!.”

truth be told, you didn’t know much about the position, just that you needed a job and your pride had gotten in the way of reaching out to other colleagues. they’d probably get off on the idea of you asking for help.

assholes.

“i had a feeling you’d be here again!”

you’re not even a full step out of the elevator when a woman with gold framed glasses and black bangs comes bouncing down the hall. she’s dressed more casually than expected and she’s got a --vacuum cleaner?-- charm hanging off her hip.

“ah, i’m [name]. they told me to come--”

“you’re in the right place!” she grins, ushering you towards the desk in front of you, “thank gods you’re here, the last girl quit so fast she hadn’t even gotten paid yet.”

“she what---”

the words go unnoticed [ignored], and before you can even shake hands, shizuku’s handing you a binder thicker than the bowl of overnigh oats you’d had in the car, ‘contacts’ it reads in big emblazoned words.

“it’s probably in your best interest that you memorize at least some of these...or all of them.” she mutters the last part under her breath, and you think you can see her send a quick prayer to the sky.

“most of the work is pretty self-explanatory.” she adds quickly, “when the boss comes in he can brief you a bit more.”

“so he’s not here now?”

the blush is obvious on her cheeks when she responds, “he had some, --other, things to take care of. i’m sure he’ll be back later.”

right. of course.

shizuku leaves with the same bounce in her step as before and you get to work.

. . .

you hear him before you see him. well, you hear her before you hear him. it’s like the concept of public decency was wiped from their mind and replaced with absolutely nothing because the first time you look at your boss--

“baby let’s take this to your office.”

-- he’s got half a shirt on and a whole woman clinging onto him.

. . .

“shirtless?”

the boy with the cropped hair from earlier can’t stop laughing.

“i’m serious! i think his girlfriend is with him too!”

the boy in front of you is awfully giddy for it being 9:30am and your boss (and technically his boss too!”) is fucking the brains out of some girl right now. out of, ah, respect for the couple, you’d abandoned your desk, taking as much of the paperwork as you could carry out of there.

a wonderful start to your first day, truly, the wonderful world of business.

“d’ya want to hang here then, with me?” the boy says.

“i don’t even know you.”

“ i can take you to the spare room…” he singsongs, fiddling his hands behind his back , his eyes flick towards the stack of papers sitting in your hands as if to say, “what? you’re gonna say no?” and you’re not exactly in a place to deny the boy at the front desk. so you give him a sigh and a nod.

“[name].”

“shalnark.”

. . .

six months later

you really don’t get paid enough for this.

“i’m very sorry sir,” you say into the receiver, “mr. lucilfer is preoccupied at the moment and is not able to take your call, can i schedule a better time for the two of you to meet?”

the man on the other line grumbles, giving you a date and time and “if he doesn’t pick up i will be filing a complaint!”

he won’t though, he’ll take one step into the office and walk right out. watching people walk into the office is entertainment for you now, first it was pure awkwardness but now… the moans coming from the office in front of you are nothing but background noise to the clack of your keyboard.

it’s none of your business anyway, you just schedule the meetings. in fact, you’re sure that the only reason your boss gets away with not attending board meetings is because he’s quite literally fucking board members daughters in his office. a disgusting power move if you do say so yourself. well, that and he has the coldest stare you’ve ever seen.

“bye-bye [name]!” the blue haired girl, neon, 22 year old daughter of ‘nostrade’, ‘nostrade’ who has an appointment with chrollo the 23rd of every month from six pm to ten pm to discuss finances, yeah, that nostrade, comes swishing out of the room. “i’ll see you next week ‘kay!”

you wave a soft goodbye, ignoring the fact that her heel strap is broken and there’s a new bruise on her thigh. but like always, none of your business. the only advantage to this whole scenario, for you, at least, is the image of post - sex chrollo lucilfer, slick with sweat and still no shirt !, leaning against the doorframe. (honestly, the reason this company even has a dress code is beyond you.)

“ [name], did someone call?”

oh, he looked way too good in those slacks.

“yes sir, he said he worked with the zoldycks but --”

“illumi knows better, will you delete his contact then?” he finishes quickly, using his dress to wipe the sweat on his brow.

you nod, sparing yourself one more glance at the curves of his abs, and oh the ones that dip just below, oh. what’s this? his belt is different today, saint laurent? no, salvatore ferragamo, maybe.

“ [name].”

you blink twice, casually looking away before you meet his eyes again.

“yes sir?”

you can’t tell if it’s a smirk on his face but the tip of his mouth curves up as he makes his way towards your desk. his walk is sly, his office is only a few steps away from yours but watching him make his way to you feels like an eternity. resting his elbows on your desk, he peeks into your workspace, eyes looking over every pen and pencil on the desk.

“is there something you need, sir?”

it’s embarrassing how close you were to moaning ; god you were practically choking words out at this point.

but still, the question goes unanswered.

“i’m expecting a package later,” he finally answers, “ please bring it to me when it arrives.”

you nod, turning away to write a fake note “reminding” yourself to drop off the package, and by the time you turn around, the door to his office is shut and you’re left in silence.

. . .

shizuku looks up through her glasses, eyebrow raised and lips wrapped loosely around her milkshake straw.

“girlie i pray for you sometimes.”

rolling your eyes you pick a fry off her plate, “it’s not that bad.”

you fail to address the fact that you basically get a free show everytime neon shows up so , yes objectively it’s not that bad.

it’s a little bit evil though.

“at least you’ve got me ‘n machi here.”

“gal pals.” you say

“gal pals.” she affirms.

it’s not awkward with shizuku, in fact she might be the only normal person working at this company. she’s your little break from reality.

“boss is callin’”

you snap to your phone, ringing with CHROLLO L [WORK] on the screen.

“he’s needy.” shizuku taunts, “gotta have his little secretary back at work right.”

“if it’s because he doesn’t want to pick up his package i’m gonna flip.”

sighing gently, she pats your hand. “you’re working towards the paycheck babe.”

. . .

it is the package.

the poor delivery man is shaking in front of you desk as you walk out of the elevator.

“i can sign for it!” you chirp, adding a bit of sweetener to your smile ; a something to make the poor man feel better. he extends the pen toward you and you sign, gently placing the package on your desk.

“have a good day ma’am.”

you nod and wave, not even bothering to look at the package on your desk.

chrollo can wait for it.

. . .

neons moans are too fucking loud.

the girl‘s moving pathetically, no, clumsily on his cock, her ass is nice he’ll give her that but — fuck you would look so hot in her position. tits bouncing, falling out of the stupid white button down you’re wearing right now.

he can see you out of his office, (two way glass is a fucking gift) what are you doing , answering a call? doesn’t even matter. your tits just barely poke out of your shirt and it’s got him so hard.

is neon still here?

“baby please—” she mewls, forcing his head into her hands, pressing a harsh kiss on his lips. he doesn’t even bother to look at her, his eyes are on you.

you’re wearing cherry chapstick. he could smell it this morning when he picked up his folders from you.

“good morning sir.” you’d said, “anything you need this morning?”

the answer was “yes. you.”

but instead he nodded.

neon finishes loudly, tugging on his hair and crying into his neck.

he wishes it were you.

#chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo x reader #chrollo imagines #chrollo smut #chrollo fic #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #smut #slide into the drivers seat #phantom troupe x reader

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justauthoring · 4 years

Text

just a lil’ bit of loving.

Request: Hiya, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a Niall X reader where he posts a video of him playing a song on the piano and your sat on his lap cuddling (yknow like the tik toks of girlfriends sitting on their boyfriends laps whilst they play video games). Could you do like people's reactions? Or like someone brings it up in an interview? Idk whatever ... Xxx Requested by: @immajustreadwritereblog

Pairing: Niall Horan x Reader Word Count: 583 Please don’t plagiarize my work!

“Love, i’m--”

Whatever Niall had been about to say, which you were sure was some sort of attempt to understand what you were doing, falls dead on the tip of his tongue. That action of you promptly and without hesitation crawling onto his lip and placing yourself directly against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so you don’t fall, stuns him to silence.

His fingers freeze upon the piano, the last key he’d hit echoing into the silence before everything falling silent. He sits there for a moment, forgetting he’s even recording himself for a second, before pulling back with an amused grin.

“What are you doing?”

You shrug, grinning from ear to ear; “wanted to cuddle.”

“I was in the middle of something,” he explains softly but the look in his eyes clearly shows he isn’t upset by your interruption at all. If anything, he’s more amused and maybe even a little giddy at the attention. He leans back, enough to set his hands on your waist, securing you further so you won’t slide right off of his lap. “Playin’ the piano, love.”

“Was tired of you ignoring me,” you pout lightly, “thought i’d take matters into my own.”

Niall lets out a chuckle, it echoing across the silence of your guys shared home, shaking his head at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek, his eyes managing to catch sight of his phone and the Instagram live he’d been doing that he’d all but forgotten about. And for a brief second, he’s alarmed, always feeling a little awkward at having been caught in such an intimate and private moment with you, knowing that you’re quite private too.

But then his eyes focus in on the comments bursting in and the thousands of hearts that keeping blowing up at the side of the screen and his smile returns, albeit softer, at the sight of his fans being so supportive of the two of you.

Lowering his voice, Niall meets your eyes; “I believe we’re being watched, Y/N/N.”

And for a moment your brows furrow in confusion, but then you glance over your shoulder in the direction Niall’s looking in and your cheeks redden in embarrassment when you see his phone and the fact that he’s live and the thousands watching had seen everything. And similar to Niall, your chest tightens in fear briefly before your eyes impulsively start reading the comments that continue to flood in.

that was literally so cute! i can’t!!

he even forgot he was recording!! they’re so in love

so freaking cute!

Biting your lip, you turn back to Niall, finding his eyes already on your own. “Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly, “forgot you’d gone live.”

And Niall just shrugs but the truth is he really doesn’t mind all that much. “Been live for an hour now,” he grins, before shifting you just enough that he can reach for his phone and grab it off the the piano ledge. “Alright everyone, I think i’m gonna sign off. Y/N needs my attention here.”

“Hey!” You call with a roll of your eyes, lightly slapping Niall’s shoulder as he snorts.

“Not that I mind,” he adds after a moment, grinning up at you before turning back to his phone. “I’ll chat with you all in a bit. Thank you and good night!”

Setting his phone down, Niall turns back to you, “i’m all yours.”

And your grin widens, your eyes twinkling with delight as you giggle. “Perfect.”

Let me know what you thought?

#One Direction #One Direction imagine #One Direction x reader #1D #1D imagine #Niall #Niall Horan #Niall Horan imagine #Niall Horan x reader #Niall imagine #Niall x reader #imagine #imagines #my fics

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates (Bryce Lahela x MC)

Summary: A surprise leads to a major shift in Bryce and Casey’s relationship

A/N: Eeeek, this is my first time ever writing a Bryce x MC fic! The day you guys see me writing something not Ethan centric is the day you should play the lotto because it’s more rare than a unicorn sighting.

Anywho....please enjoy!

Tags: @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @maurine07 @badchoicesposts @ermidc @sundaescreamcheese @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @gogotomago95 @have-aheart @aworldoffandoms @zaffrenotes @anotherbeingsworld @to-fangirl-or-not-to-fangirl @nazariolahela @the-unconquered-queen @writinghereandthere @omgjasminesimone @parkerattano @silent-storms-posts

~v~

“Okay, are we going out to lunch?” Casey asks, twisting her fingers into her skirt. From the passenger seat of Bryce’s car, the bustling streets of Boston fly past her. A tendril of her curly hair whips around in the wind, settling on her lip as it sticks to her tacky lip gloss. Bryce is a freaking speed demon and drives too fast for her liking.

But she does like looking at him when he’s behind the wheel. His grip on the wheel is relaxed, much like his posture, slouched low in the seat, right hand drumming against the gear shift. While it’s still winter, the sun is shining brightly, making the highlights in his hair and the light dusting of freckles adorning his nose stand out. Her boyfriend—even thinking that word makes her giddy—makes a pretty sight to behold.

“No, that’s not the plan. But we can go get food once we’re done,” Bryce answers..

“Ice skating?” Casey guesses. She watches as he shakes his head. “But ice skating sounds so fun.”

“We can go ice skating some other time, Case.”

“We’re going to the movies?”

Bryce chuckles. She’s been trying to guess all morning what he has planned for the day, and despite getting every single guess wrong, Casey comes up with another one at the drop of a hat. The persistence is admirable. “You’ll find out soon enough. Stop being so nosy.”

Casey pouts, feigning hurt. “I resent that! I prefer to be called naturally inquisitive. It makes me sound smart.”

“You’re nosy,” Bryce deadpans. “But don’t fret, we’ll be there in like, 5 minutes tops.”

He’s been excited from the moment he told her to get dressed, and Casey can see that his leg is bouncing up and down underneath the steering wheel. Whatever he has planned, he’s really excited about it, so Casey decided to keep quiet and enjoy the rest of the ride.

They enjoy the rest of the short ride, Casey scrolling through Bryce’s different Spotify playlists until she settles on the perfect song, but he’s pulling in and parking his car before she can even hit play.

An apartment complex was not what she was expecting to see. It’s a very nice apartment complex, located a few blocks away from Boston University. Casey can see the college students milling around, some adults walking their dogs, a few older more established couples, some with kids, some without going in and out of the building.

Now her curiosity is piqued. Is Bryce dragging her along to some surgeon friend’s apartment? Is this his idea of a Saturday adventure? Granted, he never promised her an adventure, just a surprise, and while she likes most of his surgical cohort, she’d rather be doing something else. Nonetheless, Casey doesn’t say anything, letting Bryce intertwine their fingers and lead her through the building.

They ride up the elevator in silence until they reach the 4th floor. It isn’t until Bryce reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key do the alarms go off on her brain. “Bryce? Did you–”

“I got a new apartment!” Bryce exclaims, cutting her off. “Surprise!”

Once the door is open, he’s pulling her in, his excitement palpable. Casey looks around the place. It’s unfurnished, the hardwood floors beneath them bright and freshly waxed. And even though she hasn’t looked around, she can already tell it’s much larger than his current 1 bedroom.

“Oh...wow,” is all that manages to come out of her mouth.

“I know! It’s in Keiki’s school district, thank god. And it’s a brand new unit, all stainless steel appliances, marble and quartz countertops, which are apparently huge deals when you’re apartment hunting. In-unit washer and dryer, walk-in closets, there’s a gym and a pool downstairs, a game room–”

Casey watches him as his animatedly rattles off all of the features in the apartment. His face is flush, pink with excitement, his words are breathless and tumbling out of his mouth all at once. She takes a step forward, cupping his face between both hands. “Bryce, I think you should stop and breathe.”

The command makes him flush hard, now from embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You can continue now.”

“That was pretty much it. The main draw is that it’s a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment, so I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Now Keiki and I will each have our own space. Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Will the 15 year old girl like having her own room, and not having to share a bathroom with her older brother?” Casey nods. “Absolutely. Keiki is a lucky duck.” She takes a few steps further into the apartment, silently appraising it. It’s beautiful from what she can see, and she hasn’t even seen the bedrooms. “Question: how are you affording this place? You’re a surgical resident, living in Boston is expensive, and I’m pretty sure Sallie Mae is eating most of your paychecks.”

Bryce looks down at his feet, shuffling them back and forth much to Casey’s dismay. He’s going to scuff the floors doing that. “I uh...I talked to my parents.”

“When?”

“A little over a month ago, before I enrolled Keiki in school. I called my parents and gave them quite the earful about not contacting Keiki once since she’s been in Boston, and I kinda let them have it. Turns out I’ve been holding in a lot of pent up...stuff regarding my parents.”

Casey’s eyes soften at his confession. They hardly ever have conversations about his parents, and when they do, it’s never good. “You want to talk about it?”

Bryce shakes his head, memories of that conversation trying to bubble to the surface. His mother tried her hand at making awkward small talk as if they hadn’t gone years without talking, while his father said nothing at all. He bites the inside of his cheek, willing the bad memory to go away. Negative thoughts of his parents don’t need to invade this space. “Nah, it’s not important.”

Resisting the urge to call bullshit, Casey simply nods. “Agree to disagree, Bry. But we’ll table it for now and just continue your story.”

He’s grateful that she’s willing to listen, but not pushy enough to force him to talk, leaving the ball in his court. “Long story short, I told them that Keiki is welcome to stay with me in Boston and I wouldn’t make it public news that they all but abandoned their daughter and drag social services into things, if they allowed me to be her legal caregiver.”

“Really?”

“Yup. So I can be in charge of her education and medical decisions while she’s out here. It’s less permanent than me filing her guardianship, and my parents still legally have rights, but it makes things easier. And because of that, my parents are giving me a pretty generous monthly allowance for all of her expenses. Housing, food, school supplies, the works.”

“So child support?”

“Pretty much, yes. I didn’t ask for it, but the Lahelas like to throw money at their problems. Some of that money goes towards the rent here, the rest I put in a savings account for Keiki. I’ll gift her the money when she starts college, so she’ll have a bit of a nest egg, and won’t be dependent on ramen noodles and the McDermot’s dollar menu like I was.”

Bryce shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at Casey, trying to gauge her reaction. “I know I dumped a lot on you, and you probably think I’m insane for taking all of this on but–”

Casey wraps her arms around his waist and cuts him off with a quick kiss. “If I could look at you with literal heart eyes right now, I would.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She leans forward, resting her head against the solid expanse of his chest. The faint scent of his laundry detergent and his cologne invade her senses, and she relishes in it. He smells like comfort, if there was ever such a thing. “I can’t believe you accomplished all of this in such a short period of time.”

“Well my lease was up, and I was trying to get Keiki situated in school, and it all sort of fell into place at the right time.”

“Stop trying to downplay it,” Casey orders. “You are strong, and brave, and you take initiative in any situation. I don’t know too many 27 year olds that would spring into action and volunteer to raise their teenage sisters, all while being a resident and trying to juggle their own personal life.”

The way she says it, the awe and idolatry in her voice makes his stomach flip. Bryce considers himself to be a pretty self-assured guy. He has a healthy level of self esteem, but something about Casey praising him always causes him to short circuit, without fail. “You make it sound so much cooler than it really is.”

“It is cool,” Carey argues. “You’re doing a noble thing, so let me give you compliments you deserve.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes immediately, the bashfulness still holding him tight. Eventually, Bryce looks up at her, her expression open and earnest. “You make me sound so much better than I really am.”

Casey grabs hold of his sweater and tugs him closer, forcing him to crane forward and be at her eye level. “Mhmm, it’s a hidden talent of mine. I happen to be an excellent salesperson.”

Bryce smirks, their lips barely brushing against each other, and mumbles “You’re such a dork,” before capturing her in a kiss. Casey responds instantly, matching his eagerness and fervor. It doesn’t take long for things to get more heated, his tongue slipping into her mouth, hands going to grip her waist.

She breaks to kiss to inhale sharply. “You’ve lived here for 5 minutes and you’re already trying to defile the place.”

“Can’t help it. You make me feel like a horny teenager again, baby.”

“Well stop it.”

Bryce rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“Come on loverboy, show me around. Give me the grand tour.”

They wander around the apartment at a leisurely pace, Casey pointing out all of the different things Bryce could buy to furnish the place—“What do you mean you’ve never gone to Home Goods?”—and admonishing his idea to shop on Craigslist. He’s an adult, not a college freshman, and his home should reflect that.

“You want to know what the best part is?” Bryce asks, leading Casey back to their starting point, the living room.

“What?”

“Keiki’s bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, separated by a pretty sizable living room.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and she shoves at his chest, laughing. “And? Are you trying to say something?”

“Yeah, that one of us—you—can be pretty loud at times.”

Her cheeks heat up and she blushes furiously. “Well I’ll make sure to keep it quiet on the nights that I sleep over.”

“What if you didn’t just spend the night over here?”

He instantly regrets the way he phrased that sentence because it sounds like he just told her he doesn’t want her in his apartment. Casey frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry! That sounded weird.” He flushes, stumbling over his words. Something about Casey Valentine makes him very nervous. “That’s not what I meant, I promise.”

Bryce grabs both of Casey’s hands, holding them close to his chest. “Move in with me.”

Her eyes widen at the suggestion. He wants to do what? “What?”

“I spent all of last year tiptoeing around our relationship, trying to keep things light and breezy when I really didn’t want that. And it took you being in that...horrible accent for me to finally reveal the full extent of my feelings for you. Now that we’re together and official, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“I would like to go to sleep with you every night, your ice cold feet pressed against my legs, and your curly hair tickling my nose because you’ve invaded my side of the bed. And I want to wake up to you every morning, because even though you think you look crazy in the morning, I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I want us to cook together every day, or just you because you’re a much better cook than I am.” Casey giggles at his jokes, which only spur him on further. “Besides Keiki, you’re the most important person I have, and I want you here with me, permanently.”

When Casey doesn’t say anything immediately, Bryce understands. He just dropped a bomb—a few bombs actually—right at her feet, she needs time to process. But the silence stretches until it grows into something long and uncomfortable, and a thin sheen of sweat forms at Bryce’s hairline. Did he just shoot himself in the foot? Did he seriously overestimate her feelings for him, and the nature of their relationship?

Before he can open his mouth to renege on the invitation, Casey speaks. “We’re going to have to talk to your landlord, or the property manager, because a new lease needs to be drawn up.”

“W-what?”

“I mean, I assume it’s just you and Keiki listed on the lease, and I don’t want to just be a permanent guest staying in your apartment. I want it to be our apartment, so I need to be on the lease agreement,” Casey explains. “And I know you said your parents cover most of the rent on this place, but I want to contribute, so I guess I’ll be in charge of the–”

She doesn’t get to finish talking because Bryce is on her in an instant, his mouth crashing into hers in a fiery kiss. His fingers dig into her hips, walking her backwards until her back bumps into the kitchen island. In a quick show of strength, Bryce lifts her onto the island, and Casey has to break the kiss to hiss.

“Shit, that’s cold!”

“Sorry baby.” He’s not the least bit sorry, flashing her his signature smirk. “I’ll warm you up.”

“And you say I’m the dorky one,” Casey teases, laughing as Bryce kisses her between each word.

“You are,” he insists, kissing down her neck. She squirms away from him as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot, but he holds her in place. “We bring that out in each other.”

He kisses her a few more times, some softer than others, some so deep, she feels dizzy when he pulls away.

“We’re really going to do this?” Casey asks rhetorically. “This whole living together thing?”

“We are. I asked, and you said yes, so you’re stuck with me, little lady.”

There’s a smile on his face, so huge, Casey really thinks he might blind her with his pearly white teeth. She hasn’t seen him this relaxed, this unabashedly happy in a while. She can’t help but to smile back.

“You have to let me have creative control on furniture and decorations though.”

“This apartment is going to look like a furniture store magazine spread.”

Casey nods. “It’ll smell like the inside of a Bath & Body Works store in here, too.”

“You’re going to go crazy on the candles, aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely. They also have cute wall plug-ins.”

Bryce laughs. “I don’t care. You and Keiki can do whatever you want to the place.”

“Mhmm, now you’re talking my language, Lahela.”

They talk excitedly, basking in the fun that this new journey is going to bring their relationship. They don’t know how much time has passed when the conversation finally dwindles down.

“Hey, Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you let me down from here?” Casey asks, gesturing to the countertop. Bryce has her caged in, arms on either side of her. “Despite your best efforts to warm me up with a make-out session, this thing is freezing cold.”

“No one told you to wear a mini skirt like this in winter, you naughty school girl.”

“I resent that! This skirt is very cute, and it would’ve looked even cuter had you taken me ice skating.”

Bryce rolls his eyes. He’s gonna have to take this girl to the ice skating rink, and soon. He trails his hands up and down her legs, taking in all the goosebumps that have popped up on her smooth skin.

“You want to know where this skirt would look even better?”

“Where?”

Gripping the backs of her thighs, Bryce lifts Casey off of the countertop and into his arms. “The floor of our new bedroom.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #bryce lahela #dr. bryce lahela #bryce x mc

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count-woe-laf · 4 years

Text

Who’s your friend?

Prompt 53 from @someonehelp sorry that it took so long and if it’s not what you wanted, I may have accidently written it for @coconut-cluster ‘s battle of the bands au and this post and its tags because my brain could not stop thinking about it. The au is hers and y’all should go check it out, I love it

Thank you @knight-of-cauldrons for helping me with the names and lovely people from the Roman Arson Squad for helping me with other stuff too and @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink for helping me edit stuff and talking about this until 4am with me so I knew what to write, I appreciate it, (also the drumstick things is entirely her fault (maybe a little bit of mine))

Pre-romantic prinxiety, there’s a few swears, very brief mention of murder/death, the ending and middle is a little weak, 1348 words

The blood pumping through Roman's veins, the air in his lungs, the microphone in his hand, the noise of the music and the crowd, the feeling of happiness- of greatness surrounding him. It was in these moments that Roman felt truly alive.

It was the show high and boy was it fun; the world would slow it's spinning, Roman- his bandmates and friends playing behind him- would sing, the crowd would cheer. It was one of the best feelings Roman had ever felt. (He says one of the best because he got a free pink lemonade in the middle of summer once and it was closely tied for one of the best feelings ever.) This great feeling stayed until Roman would get home that night. Even once the audience left he would still feel the burst of happiness in his chest.

The Disasters were spread around the stage, packing up their instruments. Well, Remus and Janus were packing up. Roman didn't have anything to do so he was scrolling through his phone. Virgil was sitting on the edge of the stage, playing around with his sticks, talking to someone from the crowd. Normally Roman wouldn’t pay much attention to them, but he didn't have anything interesting on his phone and his gaze kept drifting towards Virgil.

The guy Virgil was talking to looked around their age; he seemed nice enough, maybe he was being a little too nice for Roman's liking, but that didn't matter, he was just some guy. Some guy that was talking to Virgil, a completely normal conversation. Virgil had conversations all the time. …Did Virgil usually smirk at a stranger's remarks, though? Did he normally let someone try (and fail) to spin his drumsticks, would they laugh afterwards? Roman's after show happiness suddenly disappeared; he instantly realized his night wouldn't be as good as he thought. The amazing feeling was replaced with another that Roman wasn't entirely familiar with. All Roman knew was that it wasn't jealousy.

There was no way it was jealousy, It couldn't be jealousy, jealousy didn't feel like this, did it? No, the feeling in the pit of Roman's stomach wasn't jealousy, he wasn't jealous. There was absolutely no reason for him to be jealous over some hot looking dude talking to Virgil. Roman and Virgil were just friends anyway, he didn't have a reason to be jealous. it didn't matter that Roman's heart stopped when Virgil smiled at him. It didn't matter that Virgil would say one flirty joke and Roman would be distracted for the rest of practice. And it didn't matter that Virgil was one of the few people Roman trusted. None of that mattered, Roman was not jealous. Finding himself walking towards Virgil's spot on the edge of the stage wasn't because he was jealous, it was because he was bored and cared for Virgil's safety talking to random people. Yeah, that sounded about right.

"Well you seem really funny, Virgil, right?"

Virgil stopped spinning his sticks. "Yeah, and your name is…"

"Andy, short for Anderson, it's a dumb name right?" They both let out a short laugh, Andy's laugh was really nice and smooth, way better than Roman's dorky one. What? That didn't matter, there was no need to compare himself to whoever this Andy dude was.

Roman ignored his mess of thoughts and placed himself near Virgil. "Hey, Virgil! Who's your friend?" Ignoring how stiffly Roman spoke it almost seemed like he was saying it nicely. Of course Roman was saying it nicely, why wouldn't he be saying it nicely?

"Oh uh, we're not friends yet," and the guy dragged his hand through his hair and winked at Virgil. He actually winked. He looked towards Roman. "Anyways I'm Andy, me and my friend Spike are going to get some food, wondering if Virgil here would like to join us?"

And boy, did Roman have a lot he wanted to say, it might've warranted him a disappointed lecture from Janus. So he turned off his internal monologue of this bitch really thinks he can take Virgil, my best friend out to an 8pm dinner, that's our thing sometimes we even share pancakes- and looked over to Virgil. He must know that the late dinners are tradition and that one cannot break from traditions especially ones with your best friends.

"Come on, it'll be fun." Andy lowered his voice, "Maybe after we can drive somewhere, there's a place I know that's really pretty around this time."

Roman scowled and opened his mouth, hoping to say something that wouldn't sound overly protective and jealous. "He-"

"Sorry we have some band stuff to talk about tonight. But uh," Virgil threw up some awkward finger guns and stood up, quickly trying to get away. "I'll see you around though. Have a good night, Andy." They started to walk away.

"Ok, if you're sure, I wish I got your number, but I'll stick with this," Virgil turned around to see Andy badly twirling one of his sticks. "See ya around Virgey," and with another stupid wink, he was gone.

They both stood frozen on the stage, the feeling in Roman's stomach grew as the silence stretched out. "Did he just make a pun? And call me Virgey?" He looked over to Roman with a bewildered face. "He used a pun to take my stick, called me Virgey, and left. Now I need new sticks," Virgil looked down at his lone drumstick. "This is why I don't like new people talking to me. And being stuck somewhere alone with a stranger? Not my thing." Virgil turned to face Roman, hands loosely playing with his stick. "Sorry for cutting you off there but you were already being overly jealous and extra and I didn't want that to get worse."

"Hey, I'm not overly extra, I don't know what you're talking about," Roman looked down and pouted.

"Oh so you're admitting you're jealous?" Virgil raised an eyebrow with an innocent look.

"I'm not that either, Virgey," Roman ignored his growing blush, took Virgil's last drumstick and lightly hit him on the arm, making Virgil frown in response.

"Oh really?" Virgil took back his stick and hesitated before gently placing it under Roman's chin, tilting his head up so their eyes met. "You're a horrible liar, you don't keep eye contact and can't think of excuses, it's very suspicious. Anyways, you interrupted my lovely conversation with Andy, sure seems like you're jealous, Roman."

Wow… Roman was going to faint. Virgil was looking at him with a teasing glint in his eyes as a stupidly cute laugh fell from his lips. Roman couldn't even respond let alone breathe, who gave Virgil a right to be this- this-

Roman's chin fell. "We should go, I think Jan and Remus are already in the van."

"Uh, yeah," Roman said, slightly dazed. "This is your last call to go with your stranger over there and get into his sketchy looking truck. You sure you don't want that?"

Virgil snorted, "I'll stick with your jealous self. At least I know you won't kill me in a back alley." He started to walk away. "Come on, you know Janus will leave for ihop without us."

Roman followed him out. "I blame you if he leaves us, you piss him off too much."

"Says the one who got into an hour long argument with him about cornflakes." Roman scoffed in response.

The after show high had returned, along with memories of thousands of similar interactions with Virgil. (God, why was Virgil such a flirt? Roman would combust one of these days.) Unlike his earlier predictions, it was a very nice night after all. Roman was so thankful to have the feeling of giddiness back in his veins and his band of friends surrounding him.

(He was also thankful for the ihop waiter that brought him extra whipped cream that Virgil proceeded to eat and get all over him. There was now a very cute picture of Virgil in Roman's syrup covered phone that Roman would not stop looking at all night.)

I tried to do it justice, thanks for letting me write this and for sending in a prompt. Send me a prompt (and characters and a ship, sorry if I change it) and I’ll write something (probably short and definitely sanders sides) out of it eventually. Know that it will probably take me forever but I’m trying to write more

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #janus sanders mention #remus sanders mention #ts virgil #ts roman #I know dialouge is not my jam and it probably sounds choppy but idk how to fix it #botb au #hopefully this is good enough lexi #pen throws away a pen

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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes | ho x fem!reader (merman au)

credits to myself for the moodboard

Summary: Sometimes, having a crush might be a difficult matter to deal with... even more when the aforesaid crush turned to not be who you thought it was at first sight.

Warnings: mention of ANGST (suicidal thoughts), language, SMUT including unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddo), lots of gridding and PDA, oral (fem receiving) and a glimpse of handjob.

Word Count: 8.7k (oh my what)

A/N: So... I’M BACK BABYYY, with some hot stuff too 🔥✨ And particularly with this quite original AU that was sleeping in my drafts for like two months and more… oopsie? 😂😅 Also I felt like our Hazza boy needed some love so here we gooo 👀 But oh lord is it good to be back to writing again! Thank you again to all of you who supported me and made me want to come back here 🥺💕 I’d be nothing without you all… So please, enjoy this oneshot, show me your support and there is also a brand new taglist below you can subscribe to if you like my writings (or you can definitely turn your notifications on to know each time I post) 😌🙏🏻

masterlist | ⚠️ new taglist ⚠️ | your support

“Tom, are you sure he's going to be there?”

“I promise (Y/N), I made sure to have Harry and Sam ask just in case. I'm pretty sure he’d be coming only to show off a little and for the free booze as always, but he will be there nonetheless.”

You couldn't help the giddy smile that spread to your lips, clasping your hands together with excitement. Tom was your best friend for three years now and definitely the best wingman you ever knew - true to the rumours, as the brunette was making sure the person you couldn't stop thinking about would participate at this (quite extravagant) vacation Tom decided to organise in the Maldives.

That person had been at a previous get together you had with some friends but as strange as it may have seemed, once knowing his outgoing personality he was such a loner and that made him hard to approach. Harrison, Tom’s best friend. Around your age and incredibly handsome that you couldn't get him out of your mind. These nice blonde locks of hair that turned slightly darker now, slightly curly when too long, a well toned body and not to mention the brightness of his blue eyes, almost translucent but reminding you of the vastness of the ocean.

That boy completely stole your heart... and didn’t really speak to you that much.

It was not that you didn't try to talk to Harrison before but most of the time, he would just ignore you or at some point look disinterested in his surrounding until he would just leave. Today you were more determined. And even if the blond man came off like a snob or a jerk - Tom assuring you he was not at all -, you really wanted to take some time to get to know him.

“Thanks for asking me to join the trip, Tom” you said, “I can't believe you suddenly felt like “taking a break and let’s get wild and free to the Maldives’ really” you beamed excitedly, trotting before your brunette friend while taking a whiff of the air, completely infatuated with the smell of the salty ocean water in the distance.

“Come on, that’s all fine (Y/N)” smiled Tom as he joined your side, “you needed that little vacation anyway.”

“You’re such a div, really… Moviestar...”

“Hey! Don’t call me that now!”

Laughing, you both trailed up the floorboard pathway on the white sand that leaded to the beautiful couples of straw huts on piles. The little floating houses were already teeming with lots of people, most faces you definitely didn’t know at all but you still managed to catch sight of Tom’s twin brothers and some other mutuals friends of yours. A smiling Maldives’ waiter welcomed and guided both of you down the plank pathway to the first straw hut where at least twenty people were already dancing and enjoying themselves. After seeing how extravagant this kind of party could be, you almost regretted wearing a simple white beach dress with your bikini underneath, but everyone else was dressed as casual as you were as well so you felt much better.

After grabbing some punch and chatting with your friends you (finally) found for a bit, you kept looking around for Harrison but it looked like he didn’t arrived yet. At least that was what you thought until you spotted him in the shadow of another straw hut further away, leaning on the rails and staring out at the crystal clear ocean. He was alone there, away from the loud music coming from the other huts mixed with the constant laughers of the guests. You’ve never been more happy to finally find him that you were not going to let any shyness hold you back, and then you made your slow approach towards him.

“Hey Harrison, it's nice to see you again” you began, trying to not seem too excited. “I didn't know you were going to be here...” you lied through your teeth but it was a small white one, as you stepped up next to his right side.

Harrison’s cheek tilted in your direction for the briefest of seconds, giving you a small moment to admire his bright eyes before quickly turning away. A frown ghosted over your lips but you held your ground, trying to start a small conversation with him but nothing you said seemed to interest him. After several minutes of trying and failing just to get him to speak, you leaned out and looked at the water before whispering.

“You must really like the ocean...”

“I fuckin’ hate the ocean” Harrison snapped, startling you it almost made you jump backwards.

His voice was a lot deeper than you imagined, such a tone with a pretty defined accent could charm you right out of your clothes with very little effort. You shook your head at such misplaced thoughts before looking up at his face as Harrison was glaring spitefully into the distance, both his hands gripping the wood banister as if ready to rip it in half.

You never saw such a troubled expression before that you instinctively grabbed the blonde’s wrist and gave his hand a tug.

“If you don't like the ocean, stop giving it your attention and enjoy the party” you interrupted his train of thoughts, surprising yourself by such boldness. “Come dance with me, I promise I'm not as clumsy as I look.”

It was astonishing even to yourself that Harrison allowed you to pull him away to guide him over the center of the empty straw hut you were both in.

“You may have a very goofy face, so I bet you really are clumsy” the blond man snorted, his fine lips quirking up into a grin but you didn't mind at all, specially since he just looked so dreamy with that teasing smile on his face.

You giggled while taking more initiative by sliding one hand around his hip and taking his own in the other, your heart skipped a beat at the way Harrison interlocked your fingers together with his.

“You better not step on my feet” he warned, before sighing, “... not promising I won’t, though.”

Giggling, you immediately took the lead as Harrison slid his other hand to the middle of your back. You gladly fell into his steps, doing your best to prove you at least had some sophistication. No doubt in your mind, you'd be so embarrassed if you did actually step on his foot. On the other hand, Harrison had the perfect build for dancing, even if it felt like he wasn't exactly sure about what he was doing at the moment. It wasn't like it was hard though, just simple stepping you both back and forth to the music with the occasional spin was all he had to do. But still, dancing was not an easy matter for anyone.

Eventually it seemed very natural to step closer to each other, resting your hands on his hips while his own swayed down to your lower back before settling on the curve that started the shape of your bottom. You moved together, getting lost in the heat of his build upper body, unable to stop the hopeful feelings boiling inside.

The music switched to a more beat heavy and bopping rhythm, so you detached only to turn in his grasp and sway your hips back and forth against him. It took literally less than a second for his own hands to slide around your waist and maneuver your behind to rub up against his crotch. Both of you tuned the world out and danced so intimately, it felt like nothing else mattered.

“Maybe you were right, you don't have two left feet after all” Harrison mumbled against the back of your head, pulling his hands back just enough to hold your hips tight and sway you from side to side.

You blushed softly at the way the blond boy curved you into his taller more muscular shape, the heat of his hands and skin giving you courage to delicately rest your own hands on his own hips and meet his movements.

“Thanks, but I'm just following your lead… It feels really nice to dance with you” you whispered to him, momentarily closing your eyes as you leaned back against his chest. "My name is (Y/N), by the way. Tom’s friend. Uhm, I tried talking to you back then at the Brighton party from a few weeks ago but—” you trailed off, forcing an awkward smile even if Harrison couldn't see your face.

“I remember you” Harrison cut off. He huffed, his grip suddenly tightening against your stomach before he purposefully felt down the shape of your legs along your soft dress. “The chatterbox who talked to me for like fifteen minutes even though I never said a word back.”

“O-oh…”

The forlorn tone in your voice was unmistakable as you pulled away from his grasp and tried to excuse yourself.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to bother you… I just wanted to talk…”

Your eyes became a bit glossy. You truly hoped Harrison would remember you but it didn't sound like you left a good first impression. But then his firm hand latched onto your wrist, halting your movement before you could step too far away and instantly yanked you back hard enough to stumble into his chest.

“I never said you could leave, (Y/N)...”

With purpose his other hand slid down to the bottom of your ass, making sure you couldn't escape as he held you still, tightly.

“If you haven't noticed, right now we are doing more than talking. You invited me to dance... s-so let’s dance.”

Once again, you followed his lead as the blond boy began moving you both around the hut. One of your hands was pressing flatly against his chest but soon it slowly shifted up to his shoulder, meeting his movement and curving your body into the posture of his own. It was both heart racing and felt so natural to dance with him that you didn’t really know far that long.

Some time passing, you talked with Harrison while dancing and, like you had promised yourself, got to know him a little more. At first, the boy was the one to ask you tons of questions, not really letting you a second to ask something back but after a bit, you learned that Harrison was an actor, slowly making his place into the industry and the current big project he was working on. He also only came here because the boy like partying in general, also for Tom obviously and for the drinks.

It made you smile, Tom's first hypothesis being correct but you didn't really care about Harrison’s reasons. All that mattered now was that he actually came and was here, with you. He even offered a small excuse for why he was so silent when you tried to talk to him a few weeks ago, as the blonde man had a really stressful day on set and knew if he opened his mouth, it would just be party pooper.

“It's never pleasant for anyone when I'm in a bad mood. So I just stayed silent, but you just went on and on… It was quite entertaining to watch you though” Harrison snickered, watching you puff out your cheeks and call him a jerk for not saying at least something to you, leaving out the part where you thought he was just some player and you weren't pretty enough for him.

Eventually you both got tired of dancing after several songs and went to sit on the stairs which leaded to the sea. While going, you also got a silent thumbs up from a dancing and slightly drunk Tom in another straw hut whom seemed to be wishing you luck, which you were grateful for.

After talking a little more on the wooden stairs, the ocean breeze just felt and smelled really delightful that you pointed down to the wharf and turned to Harrison with a bright hopeful smile.

“We should go for a walk down by the beach!”

“Really now?” Harrison scowled, turning his face away. “The damn ocean is already surrounded us now, why would you even go walk along it…”

With a sigh the boy stood, shoving both of his hands in his dark bermuda pockets and walking away. A frown formed on your lips turning away to grip the bottom of your dress, trying to remain strong as you weren't going to beg him for sure.

“Fine. I'll go by myself… I-I can enjoy the moonlight even if I'm alone.”

Harrison turned back, watching you not even spare him another glance before carefully taking the steps down the hut you were to then walk onto another flootboard path to the front of the beach. Once back on land, you slid off your sandals and smiled at the soft feeling of the still warm sand beneath your feet.

The ocean breeze rustled through your loose hair and the salty smell of the water wafted into your nose as you walked along by the edge of the waves. The cold and clear water lapped at your feet and over your ankles, before you stopped and looked up at the luminous moon casting a beautiful bright glow down against the surface of the water. With a subtle turn, you glanced at both your sides before a small tear ebbed down your cheek.

“I'm always alone… does anyone actually see me?”

You got to dance with who you can qualify as your crush and he finally talked to you tonight… and yet, you were still not satisfied. Way far from being satisfied. You have friends for course, but no one can see how much you were hurt deep inside.

I wish I could just walk out into the ocean and never come back.

Lifting your legs you took a step or two towards the glorious and vast ocean, only to have a warm hand suddenly grab a hold of your wrist. Turning, your eyes widen at the sight of Harrison’s diamond orbs, a tear involuntarily gliding down your cheek that you quickly wiped away with an abrupt turn.

“I see you, (Y/N)” the blonde man said, simply tugging your hand and getting you to step out of the path of the oncoming calm waves so he wouldn't get wet.

“You wanted to walk, right? So let’s walk, come on...”

With a tight but not harsh grip on your hand, Harrison interlocked your fingers and nearly dragged you along beside him as you stepped further down the immense beach of the island.

You'd never been more grateful that Harrison didn’t called attention to the fact that you were crying, even if he clearly heard what you said for sure. The warmth of his palm and slender fingers were incredibly soothing to the loneliness inside your heart. Without even a second thought, you indulged sliding your other hand around his elbow and laying your head on his shoulder.

Just for a moment, that’s all I need...

His beautiful eyes casted down to the top of your head, gritting his teeth wondering why he just couldn't leave you alone... even though the boy had no intention of getting this close to anyone. Harrison leaded the way slowly further down the beach, avoiding the waves and glaring spitefully at the water, hopefully he wouldn't have to get any closer to it, this being his only goal at the moment.

“... thank you.”

“I didn't do anything.”

You smiled slowly detaching from his shoulder, until your hands were the only thing still connected. Even in pure silent but with the sound of the waves in the background, it felt peaceful and not being alone was just a million times better than the expansive loneliness you were consumed with a minute ago. Taking a small leap you pointed up to the wharf and ask if you can walk up there together.

Harrison flared his nostrils but still took you both over to the stairs, guiding your way up until you were walking along the light wooden platform. Slowly you started talking again, realizing for some reason you were just so comfortable with him even if this was only the second time you’ve met within the span of a few weeks.

Even if Harrison had somehow a bit of a moody attitude, you could tell he was not a bad company. When his handsome facial features were fully relaxed and able to laugh and smile, those were some of the best moments but it felt like he had troubles opening up and letting himself have fun.

With the moon at your back and being alone with him, the moment felt so right. So you worked up the courage to ask him “the” question you wanted to since the first time you met. Letting go of his hand you stepped in front of him, pushing back your hair that was becoming delightfully frazzled by the ocean breeze and smiled at him, shyly.

“Harrison, I was wondering… if you had a girlfriend—”

“I do.”

“Oh...” you whispered, the smile on your face faltering for the briefest of seconds but you quickly recovered, not letting it bring you down before you turned around and held your hands behind your back. “I... expected a handsome guy like you to be taken, so I'm honestly not surprised.”

There was suddenly a heavy pang inside your chest, but you couldn’t ask for anything more than what Harrison had already given you.

“I had fun dancing with you, and also got you, the brick wall, to talk” you said while turning back to face the blonde with a gentle expression. “I-I, well I basically had a crush on you— I know it's pretty silly… but you were kind to me in your own way, so thank you. I promise I won’t bother you a-anymore…”

The expression on Harrison’s face kind of made him hard to read, but you were honestly trying to not look as you walk past him, briefly grazing against his hand before trying to make your grand escape.

The thump in your chest throbbed so loudly that it was rather painful and the only thing you could focus on, which was why it startled you so much when the blonde man abruptly turned and grabbed your elbow that your foot missed the platform while you tried to pull away. The next thing you knew was that you were plummeting off the side of the wharf, panic flaring into your eyes and desperately trying to grab onto his arm.

But it was too late. And you were now falling in the ocean.

You squealed in fear, watching Harrison not even waste a single second before diving in after you. Both of his muscled arms wrapped around your body and switched your positions so he was bracing your fall, as you both smacked into the cold waves of the water and instantly sinked below the surface.

It took you a moment but your eyes slowly opened under the cold water, feeling jarred and vision momentarily blurry before they focused on Harrison. Bubbles flubbed from your lips as you called to him and waded through the water until you were finally right in front of him. His expression churned your heart as the boy looked so utterly distressed, so you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks and lift his head to focus on you...

But then, you trailed down and immediately thought this must be a dream.

Below his toned torso was displayed a long and beautiful turquoise colored tail fin covered in scales, a mixed of varied shades of blue shimmering with the moon ray. It was as bright as a freshly full moon, flowered out like it was encased in multiple diamonds. It was definitely the prettiest thing you have ever seen, that you couldn’t help yourself but glide your hand down to pet along its base.

Your fingers barely got to note that bumpy texture before Harrison grabbed your hand and placed his own against your cheek. Your skin warmed as the blond boy pulled you closer and shook his head, a troubled look on his face that you had no idea how to help him before he parted his lips and spoke directly to you, no bubbles coming out of his mouth, just words.

“Why couldn't you just leave me alone?!”

His words were like a stab to your heart that you just darted forward to wrap both arms around his frame, sliding your head over his shoulder flubbing “I'm sorry” to him over and over, until your body started to fall lax and your eyes slid closed, the need for oxygen overwhelming your body. Everything began to fade until you felt him grip your hips, wading his fin back and forth until you were above the water and coughing for air.

With a shove Harrison detached you from his body, watching as the waves carry you back to the shore by the beach. Your eyes fluttered a thousand times, panting and trying to exert more air back into your waterlogged lungs, before focusing on him. The moment your lips parted to call him out, you noted the angry expression on his face before the blond merman turned and dived down back into the water, swimming away at the speed of light.

“W-wait! Please, Harrison!”

You stood there, looking back and forth and as far out into the ocean as your eyes possibly could but Harrison was long gone by now.

“... Please, come back” you slowly whispered, gripping both of your hands over the front of your now heavy and completely soaked dress.

The way your heart thumped into overdrive was almost as painful as the heartbreak you experienced just moments before the fall.

* * * *

After sitting on the shore for the longest time, hoping with all your heart that the blond boy would come back, it became obvious after nearly an hour that he wasn't going to return. Shivering, you walked back towards the main straw hut and waved off all of your friends’ concerns, saying you just went for a little dip in the water.

The party winded down after awhile with everyone departing and respectively returning to their hotel. You went back and waited like a lost puppy on the wharf for Harrison as long as you could, looking out into the expansive beautiful blue ocean and slowly starting to realize why he hated it and didn't want to be anywhere near it.

It’s my fault. He didn't want anyone to know and I forced him to follow me around. He probably hates me now… but I'd just like to know if he's okay.

“(Y/N)!” Tom called out, joining and sliding himself next to you on the wharf. “I was about to head back to the hotel. Want to walk back together?”

He had such a kind and tender smile on his face, almost able to appease you with his slight rosy cheeks due to all the booze he had consumed. If only you'd fallen for someone as gentle and funny as him, maybe you wouldn't be longing for an elusive handsome merman right now.

“Thanks for the offer Tom, but… I think I'd like to stay a little longer, if that’s alright” you spoke softly, trailing off why you wanted to torture yourself any longer but you just hoped so much Harrison would come back.

“That’s totally fine, darling. Some people are still at the party, but don’t hesitate to text me if you want me to come back to not walk alone. Or I can even ask a staff member of our hotel to come here and escort you if you prefer. Just tell me, okay (Y/N)?”

You'd never been more grateful to have a friend you can trust like Tom; lovely, helpful and kind hearted. Stepping forward you surprised him with a hug and a soft thank you. After that, Tom said his goodbye's and left. You waited on the wharf another hour by walking back and forth to look at both sides of it, before deciding to sit at the edge. Almost another hour went by and now, it must of been nearly midnight as your doubts were high that the mysterious Harrison most certainly had no desire to ever see you ever again.

The party in the straw huts finally died down, the staff from the restaurant on the island now actively cleaning the mess done by the guests. Eventually, you laid down on the hard floorboard wharf with heavy thoughts that lulled you into a sleep where you dreamed about the warm and enamoring feelings of dancing against his toned and protective frame.

Some time later the sound of steps resonated on the wooden wharf, soon followed by a heavy sigh as someone bended down next to your side, running delicately the back of his knuckles along your cheek.

“I thought you would have left by now… silly.”

The mesmerizing deep octave of his voice jared you awake, a soft smile curving up on your lips at the sight of his astonishing emerald eyes. The blond man frowned before standing up and pulling away, turning around to immediately walk away from you but you suddenly jolted up to grab the back of his pastel hoodie he was now wearing, desperation in your fingertips.

“I'm sorry, Harrison— I… it's my fault. I won’t tell anyone, I promise—”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Harrison’s voice was monotone but his face was full of an abundance of emotions he just didn’t want you to see now.

“Y-Yes…” you whispered, letting go of his hoodie. “... I also just wanted to make sure you were okay, and that you didn’t get hurt…”

You smiled softly stepping up to his backside, placing your forehead against the middle of his back indulging for just a moment.

“Your fin is incredibly beautiful…”

One of his hands clenched over his heart, his brows furrowing together while he gnashed his teeth. When you let go and stepped back, the loss of your heat was actually incredibly startling as Harrison turned towards you, to then notice you already began walking away.

“I'm sorry for annoying you… I'll lea—”

“Stop apologizing when you haven't done anything wrong!” Harrison suddenly hissed, latching his hands onto your body from behind gripping your waist so tight it nearly felt like he was trembling.

The gruff sound of his voice had you flinching and your cheeks warming as he buried his astute chin into the fluffy tresses atop your head. His strong and tight grip seemed almost desperate that you weren't sure what to do but your fingers gently layered over his hands, petting and caressing his knuckles. Slowly, the blond man relaxed until his hold was lax enough for you to turn around and look up at his troubled expression. With a smile, you slid your arms around him and gave him a startling hug.

“I know you probably don't like hugs but… they can make people feel better sometimes.”

Such a soft sentence had his expression soften before his own hands slid up around your back, holding you snugly against his muscular chest. His heart was tranquil and steady like the ocean, maybe even as soothing as those blue waves as well. Harrison even had a delightful soft scent that was kind of addicting.

After a few moments, you parted while looking up at his rugged and handsome face. Those translucent and shining orbs were so alluring, so mesmerizing that within just a few seconds, you were leaning forward and pushing yourself up on your tippy toes until your lips were pressed against each other. His slender digits instantly cupped your cheek and slid the other into your hair where he returned the kiss full force.

Warmth washed over your body and simultaneously the words he'd spoken to you before, that had you detaching so abruptly that Harrison literally growled like a wolf full of primal desire.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that… But you have a girlfriend… b-but I can't stop myself from falling for you—”

You tried to turn away, but a yelp of utter surprise escaped your lips as the blonde boy tossed you down and pinned you against the floorboards of the wharf, not harshly to not hurt you.

“You're really naive, I don't have a girlfriend” Harrison rasped, cutting off whatever you wanted to say with another rough kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth and tasting your startled whimper at his sudden furry. However you weren't about to stop him with the revelation that he lied to you.

The moment his hands let go of your wrist, they lifted and hazed right into the back of his messy dark blonde locks. Both of his own paws trailed lustfully down the shape of your womanly curves before pushing apart your legs and sliding his frame in between. Your skin warmed at the intimate contact of your lower halves pressing together, letting out the smallest moan.

“I don't want to get close to anyone, but you… You don't want to leave me alone or get out of my damn mind” Harrison husked, latching onto your bottom lip as he pulled away, giving it a nibble rough enough to have drool ebbing down your chin.

You panted up at him as the blonde man leaned down and trailed his lips along the soft skin of your neck.

"Ah— Harrison, I j-just wanted to get to know you” you murmured blushing, instinctively tilting your head unable to deny the want inside to feel more of his lips as he sucked on a tender piece of flesh here and there, until you could feel small love bites warming your neck.

“Then let’s get to know each other more… I'll start by getting to know your body, since you saw a part of mine I never wanted anyone else to see” Harrison hazed with a husky layer of desire, biting into the ridge of your ear while purposefully groping over the shape of your breasts, slithering his other hand up your dress.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he felt along the curves of your body, where you couldn't bring yourself to deny him and instead pushed at the back of his head just to press your lips back together. You could feel him smirking as Harrison gladly kissed you over and over again while feeling along the shape of your womanhood against your bikini bottoms.

“Ehem, excuse me but—”

Someone’s voice caught both your attention, trying to pause both of you as delicately as possible but your face was still incredibly red when your eyes locked with a waiter from the party as he found you in such a compromising position.

Pushing at Harrison’s chest you got him to sit up, even though he looked very displeased, but you merely grabbed his hand and pulled him along beside you.

“I'm s-sorry! We didn't mean to—… out here!” you softly apologized to the poor waiter but he shook his head, even if his face was slightly pink.

You were grateful you didn’t get caught into a way more embarrassing position, as you delicately leaded you both down the wharf to set foot on the sand again. Harrison didn’t said a single word but it seemed that the blond man was waiting for you to get further away from the restaurant, still along the beach before slamming you up against the closest palm tree, growling about how annoyed he was to be interrupted.

He snapped forward like a viper and claimed many more hot and heavy kisses, while sliding both hands around your hips and gripping the bottom of your ass to press you into his body as hard as possible. You whimpered at his roughness but tried to answer to his fervor, holding around his shoulders and neck as tightly as you could muster.

Sliding down your jaw Harrison bit into the side of your neck, pushing up your summer dress and lifting your legs to wrap around his waist, just so he could grind against your thinly clothed core to his heart content.

“O-Oh! Harrison!” you mewled to him with heavy desire laced in your breath, tossing your head back as you felt how hard he was already in accurate details.

The blonde boy grinned wickedly, relieved you were a woman who could admit your pleasures and not be utterly shy about them. Extending his tongue he lapped slickly along your neck, trailing back up your jaw until you were kissing feverishly once again. His hips swayed back and forth, rocking into your body a most pleasurable rhythm that would of been even better if Harrison was actually taking you right here right now, but the stimulation was there and it was driving you insane.

You moaned into Harrison’s mouth, unhinged until he pulled away and watched you make erotic overstimulated faces and whimper about how close you were already, which had his ocean eyes wild with primal desire.

“Gonna cum already?” teased the blonde merman, never slowing down while pressing the tip of his still clothed girth up and down your slit over and over again. “We only began and yet I can feel how badly you're twitching already...”

You whined loudly at how unfair his words were, gripping the top of his hoodie for dear life as he bounced you into him until you reached the most startling orgasm unraveled. Harrison chuckled as you felt lax over his shoulder, before licking the ridge of your ear.

“Mhm, we're just getting started, (Y/N)... Hold on tight.”

A tired smile formed on your lips as you circled around him with both of your arms and legs, and let him carry you back… to the hotel you’re staying at. Your mind wanders a few seconds about how the blonde Adonis that was carrying you could have guessed the place you were staying at, as it was not the only resorts on the Maldives’ coast.

“I asked Tom before where you were staying… and also your room number, if you’re wondering” Harrison mumbled as if reading your mind, his lips also finding the skin of your neck again.

Still too intoxicated by Harrison’s previous ministrations, you only recognised now the familiar corridor of your hotel which lead to your room. Coming to a stop you heard the sound of a door opening - definitely your room as you caught a glimpse of the number written on it while walking past - then closing right after.

“You also forgot to ask Tom to give you back your key before he left, silly.”

You let out a little chuckle before hearing the click of the door lock and not even five seconds later, you were almost instantly thrown down onto your very soft queen size hotel bed, feeling the soft sheets against your hot skin. Harrison didn’t waste his time and just pulled his hoodie off his body, offering you a nice view of his well defined abs before hovering back on top of you.

“Now, take off your dress” he then possessively husked, staring deep into your eyes as he gave both of your thighs a firm squeeze.

Such a naughty demand had you skin tingling but after pulling you dress up just a smidgen, you surprised him with a mischievous grin before grabbing and tugging at the tail of his hoodie with no second thought about it. Oh, his eyes met your challenge but didn't stop you as he lifted his hands and let you yank it over his head and toss it randomly behind him.

“Want to unzip and take off my pants too, doll face?”

You giggled at his smug smirk and you being a little vixen, you gave the clear outline of his girth a slow stroke enough to elicit a very tiger like growl from his fine lips, before finally pulling up the thin material of your white summer dress and lifting your ass to pull it over your shoulders, letting it drop onto the floor.

His predator diamond eyes narrowed at the erotic site of you wearing a pink cotton candy bikini, which he could already see through your white dress when you got soaked in the ocean. Harrison watched you blush softly as he trailed both of his hands up your slightly tanned curves, but you smiled petting your own fingertips along his chest enjoying the shape of his astute muscles.

“You look like a piece of candy. I don't really like sweets but…”

He tiptoed his index and middle finger up from your belly button and startled you with the yank of your bikini top until it was easily sliding away from your body, leaving your breasts on full display.

“... I'll make an exception for you ‘cause you look rather delicious.”

Oh, his lips were wrapped around the closest nipple in a matter of seconds, his hot and wet tongue utterly divine as he lapped hazy wet circles while using his other hand to roll and pinch the other tit, smirking at the way you gasped his name and arched your back like you wanted more. The shape of his warm fingers were incredibly enticing.

Licking his lips Harrison switched to the other delectable nip, swaying his tongue back and forth, sucking hard enough to induce a juicy wet pop before trailing a warm kiss or two down your stomach. His sharp intense eyes noted the damp area that outlined your intimate lower lips, no doubt from your previous orgasm and the blonde couldn't help the modicum of pride he had for making you feel that good.

With a look up to your eyes, it was almost surprising that Harrison bothered to pause but you wanted him very much, and didn't mind at all to continue this night of pleasure. One at a time he loosened the loops you had on both sides of your bottoms before sliding the thin material away from your body, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

Your entire skin tingled at the way he took in the unhindered sight of of your naked body, but it wasn't that you were overly embarrassed by it… It was the look in his beautiful ocean eyes that admired your frame like he was noting it to memory. From the trail up your legs, to the intimate area of your womanhood, over your stomach and breasts, until Harrison settled on the way your hair perfectly framed your face.

Sliding over your body he leaned up and cupped your cheeks, edging down to capture your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss like he was thinking about something. You couldn't help but appreciate some tender displays of his attraction as you welcomed the sway of his slippery tongue into your mouth and used your own hands to pet up and down his back muscles.

You mumbled some incoherent words with a soft smile as Harrison swished back down to suck passionately against your rosy little buds. He chuckled against your skin while planting wet and hot kisses, sucking every tender piece of flesh your chest had as he trailed down your stomach and licked teasingly over your belly button, delighted with the little wiggle your body did.

“Come on (Y/N), I want to hear my name roll of your lips as I have my fill of your flavour” the blue eyed merman seductively husked, pushing apart your legs only to instantly glide his tongue down your wet slit. He nearly growled right away at the delightful flavour of your essence and even enjoyed the automatic slide of your hands into the back of his hair, moaning his name on repeat.

“Please Harrison... devour me.”

You pleaded in heavy desperation, tossing and turning your head as the blond man answered your desires by shoving his wet muscle deeply into your core and curling it up and down, thoroughly enjoying your womanly juices.

Harrison’s hands gripped your hips pulling you closer to his tongue, his hot and heavy breath of sexual desire hazing against your clit and inner walls forcing you to twitch and spasm with every new pulse of electrifying pleasure he was providing you. Pulling back he gave one of your lips a pop, getting off on the way your entire body trembled as he worked his tongue up to your clit and licked hazy circles before sucking on it like a delicious piece of candy.

“H-Harrison– o-oh f–!”

A wicked chuckle hazed against your intimate parts, sparing you a solitary glance that told you he had no intention of stopping any time soon. Turning back down to his pleasure swollen target, his tongue lapped at your nectar before swirling as he sucked roughly enough to have you writhing in ecstasy. With heavy lustful desire for you to cum on his tongue, Harrison slid a few of his fingers up against your lower lips caressing up and down to entice you in a sensual V-motion before inserting both his index and middle finger. You whimpered loudly and gave his hair an over stimulated yank, that he didn't seem to care about, as he thrusted back and forth in your walls and got off maliciously on how tight and warm your inner folds were.

All your moaning compliments seemed to feed his hungry desires as the blonde gave you a faster rhythm, sloshing your juices and feeling your pulsating walls in excruciatingly accurate intimate detail. It just took a few more seconds of his tongue pressing against your clit for you to scream out his name in the throws of another vision blurring orgasm. Your slick arousal completely coated his tongue and even the tips of his fingers as he pulled away and made it an erotic show to enjoy them thoroughly.

“Mmh, you taste pretty good…” Harrison complemented with a chuckle, watching as your face darkened with a heavy blush before turning away and whispering how much of a tease he was.

“I do like to tease you, but right now… I'd just like to fuck you as hard as possible. Ready, (Y/N)?”

Such a question made every hair on your arms and legs stand on end, as he showed you the clear haze of lust and desire reflected in his pretty diamond eyes. Instead of answering, you sat up for a brief moment and felt along his abs before working the zipper down on his shorts like he asked earlier, and helped rid him of their tight confines.

The sight of his well endowed cock had you biting the bottom of your lip before bravely stroking his length up and down a few times, planting a kiss or two against his chest. His expression softened before tilting your chin up and capturing your lips, too full of desire to enjoy the feeling of your soft fingertips as he pushed you backwards on the bed again to quickly place his stout leaking tip against your entrance.

Even with your warm cheeks you gladly lifted your legs up for him, and snaked your hands around his slender neck meeting the sway of his tongue as he got a nice grip on your hips and pressed his own forward filling you up completely with one deep penetrating thrust.

When he pulled back, you shared similar grins before meeting in the middle for several enamoring kisses. Moving his hands up to your breasts, Harrison trusted the grip of your legs around his lower back before he started thrusting his hips back and forth. Almost instantly drool ebbed down your combined lips, as you mewled haphazardly into his warm mouth.

The blonde man squished and squeezed both of your breasts, rolling your nubs in tune to his movements as he buried his cock deep within your walls, purposefully made it a mission to mess up your insides. It wouldn't take much, since he was already rocking your world more than any man had before and you had no problem moaning it to him.

“Oh, Haz! Y-You're m-making me so dizzy–!” you cried out, throwing your head back at the hot and intense sensation you were feeling.

“You love it for sure– s-shit, you're squeezing me so fucking good...!” Harrison growled, attacking the left side of your neck as he shifted both of his hands to the bottom of your ass, then began to roughly push and pull you to meet with every sway of his hips. The raunchy and addictive aroma of sex filled the air as you moaned and screamed his name, digging your nails into his back, no doubt leaving him some prominent scratches.

After several hot minutes of leaving you an abundance of hard to hide hickeys, the merman pulled back and lifted your legs away from his waist, holding them up to spread wide apart so he could fuck and thrust as deeply into your walls as quickly as he wanted. Drool drizzled down your lips as you pressed both of your hands flatly at his fine toned chest, drowning in the utter euphoria he was giving you.

Your eyes rolled back, pretty whines and whimpers leaving your luscious lips, caressing a hand against his cheek watching his expression soften before he told you to lay back. Once you'd instantly complied Harrison leaned over your body propping up your legs to stay intimately splayed wide apart but he also interlocked both of his hands with yours and held onto you tightly.

You smiled widely against his fine lips as he captured yours, loving the feeling of his long and slender fingers not to mention how incredibly hot and sweaty his entire muscular frame was. This handsome man on top of you was really getting his workout on, and you loved every single bit of the pleasure he was able to give you.

With the lewd swishing of your tongues all over each other, the knot in the pit of your stomach was nearly at its boiling point and with your mouth covered you couldn't tell him. It really didn't matter honestly, you would rather swap saliva anyway as the blonde’s wonderful kisses felt sensational and divine you wouldn't dare give up the flavor of his lips.

Harrison must of felt the same way, as he barely seemed to be breathing during his hot and heavy make out. However he did pull away once he felt the unmistakable throb of your inner walls beginning to convulse against his cock, making him give you the vigor his muscular body could offer a woman like you as he slammed into your core over and over.

As soon as you let out an echoing orgasmic scream, Harrison held your body down and pressed his cock as deep into your pulsating core as possible, making you tremble with the searing hot wave of his arousal filling you up and leaking down your inner thighs, while he pulled away with the most primal grunt of his own desire. Instantly he collapsed down on top of your body, making you groan out how incredibly heavy he was, but your hands still lifted and caressed his back up and down as if trying to soothe him despite how haggard your own pleasured body was feeling.

After several minutes of combined heavy and exhausted panting, Harrison slid to your side where you followed his movement, smiling at him. Lifting you hand you hesitated for a solitary second before pressing it against his astute cheek,caressing his soft cheekbone. His expression seemed relaxed, so you decided to lean closer and give him a small kiss.

Harrison returned your soft peck, sliding one of his arms around your hip and yanking you closer a bit harshly which caused you to make an adorable squeaking noise. The sound of his laughter was alleviating as you pulled away and nestled into his chest, listening to his rhythmic soothing heartbeat.

“Are we even, Mister Merman?” you said with a chuckle.

“It was never about that, silly…” Harrison mumbled while holding you close, finding the smell of your hair softly reminding him the one of the ocean. And the blond man had to admit it was a scent that he found relaxing when on you. “I hate the ocean because I can't control the transformation, as you saw earlier… Being a creature of the sea is a curse, (Y/N).”

A soft frown formed on your face before you placed a tender kiss against the middle of his torso.

“We are opposites then, because I love the ocean so much. Swimming and walking along the beach are very relaxing” you whispered to him, using the tip of your index finger to trace a small circle along his abs, another thing he found soothing.

“That's what I thought at first” Harrison started again, “I grew up in the water but then, I liked being on land so much more that I moved to the city and got the opportunity to have an amazing job. But the sea won't stop calling me... and I can't avoid it. I just want to be free… I want to be human.”

His grip tightened, and it just broke your heart that he felt so trapped.

“I can't cure you, Haz… I-I don't know how to help you but…” you gulped down the fear inside your guts before tilting your head up to admire the handsome features of his face.

“But your fin is so beautiful, shining under the moonlight like diamonds… Please don't resent how enchanting that form is.”

His ocean eyes rose before a tint of enamoring pink dusted his cheeks and he had to look away. Sure people have said he was handsome and all before, but no one has ever said “enchanting” when referring to his true merman form. The feeling Harrison had about you from before came back, the reason he had a hard time avoiding you and getting close.

Turning back to face you his expression was calm and at the same time a little hard to read, but his hand lifted and swayed into the soft messy tresses of your hair before pushing your head forward until your lips softly smooched together for a warm kiss. You enjoyed each other’s flavour for a few seconds then went back to cuddling close together under the sheets.

“I sensed it before” Harrison whispered against your lips, “and I didn't want to admit it but you give me these waves... that are like the ocean. Soft and tranquil, like the morning breeze. But beneath the surface you hide the storm brewing inside, constantly…”

You carefully listened to him, not daring to say a single word as you may know where he was going with that talk.

“Don't do that anymore. I won't let you feel lonely, (Y/N). Ever.”

Tears formed in your eyes. That mixed bag of feelings which composed your person was clearly hard to decipher, even more for someone who didn’t really know you beforehand, but the man in front of you did it. So clearly and astutely it was almost shocking, but you were so grateful it was a man like him.

Lifting both your hands you wrapped them around Harrison’s neck and pecked him softly not just once but twice on the lips, delighted in the teasing little smile adorning his lips before you rested against the pillow in front of him.

“Alright. But I hope… that you will show me your pretty tail fin again, one day” you said, smiling kindly at him.

“Out of all the words, ‘pretty’... really?” Harrison noted, a little blush making its way back on his cheeks with a pout. “At least say ‘enchanting’ again…”

That adorable reaction of his made you giggle, and even if Harrison didn’t dare to say it out loud (yet), that sound ringed beautifully to his ears. Ahe he wanted to preserve it at all costs.

“But if you’re a good girl, I'll show you tomorrow night when no one else is around… and maybe we will do it again in that form?”

“H-Harrison!” you blushed hard in a stutter, not expecting that cheeky remark from the dreamy merman you were sharing your bed with.

As they say, there is a first time for everything...

Oh well.

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

Photo

days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter)

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

ok hello hi so this is my wild ride of a fic that i’m working on, a scene (much later on) came to me in a dream, and much like how smeyer wrote twilight, i just had to find out how they got there fhbdj there’s some drinking which would be classed as underage in the us but is legal in the uk which is where it’s set so

trigger warnings!! alcohol and swearing

also on ao3 –– [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | extras 1 & 2 ]

winter

There was a line almost outside the door for the coffee shop, people wanting something to warm them up or just to avoid the sudden downpour of rain. Julie had been in England for just over a month now and she still wasn’t used to the randomly changing weather, how were you supposed to plan an outfit for the day if it started mildly sunny and ended in a thunderstorm? It was January! She had come prepared for snow, not rain, damn it.

From her table in the back corner of the cafe, hands wrapped around a mug and headphones blaring music, Julie people watched. Sure, she was supposed to be working on an essay, but she’d been there for half an hour already. She deserved a little break.

Even through her music she can hear the sounds of the cafe around her. Customers placing orders and rain on the windows and cups hitting tables and people laughing and it’s comforting. The sounds of life going on around her while she pretends to be doing work.

Pretends, because she’s been trying to work on this essay for a week now and getting nowhere with it.

When she’d signed up for the study abroad scheme her mind had been on experiencing a new country, on the places she could visit, the new friends she could make, the thoughtful looks she could escape.

She hadn’t thought much about the work she would have to do, the essays that would need to be written, the awkwardness of settling into a new place, the strangeness of hearing new accents.

The actual creative side of her course she found easy enough, but when it came to writing about her stylistic choices and her themes and her influences and how they all tied back with what they’d been reading about? She was drawing a blank.

Blowing on her drink, Julie let her eyes wander around the coffee shop. It was a fairly small place with an extensive collection of teas and fresh baked cakes and free wifi. She’d found it by mistake while looking for a music shop her first week in the city, they’d lured her in with carrot cake and coffee and she’d been coming back at least once a week ever since. A group of boys push through the door, shaking off hoods and laughing at something as they join the queue.

Something about them seemed vaguely familiar, like she’d seen them from a distance in a dark club, or scrolled past a group photo of them on her instagram suggested posts. Or maybe it was because they just looked like every other group of young adults she’d come across, both back home and in Liverpool. One thing she had learnt pretty quickly was that boys were the same everywhere.

She was saved from mulling it over by her phone vibrating on the table with a text, Carrie’s name popping up on the screen and Julie swapped her cup for her phone, a small smile already tugging at her lips as she read the series of texts on her screen.

Julie’s attention is dragged away from her phone by something – someone – knocking into her table, sending her pen rolling off and her cup to shake. Pulling her headphones out of her ears she looks up as the culprits eyes widen, mouth pulling into a grimace as he stares at the coffee now running down the back of her jacket that had been happily sitting in the spare chair.

“Shit,” he mutters, already pulling a napkin out of his back pocket and dabbing at the mess. “I’m so sorry, I uh– wasn’t looking and the chair leg and fuck I’m so sorry about your jacket, can it be dry cleaned?”

And he looks so sincere in his apology, all wide sad eyes and words stumbling out too quickly and messy brown hair curling out from under a beanie and accent that sounds like home, that Julie swallows back the annoyed retort she had ready to go.

It was just an accident. Accidents happened. At least it wasn’t over her laptop. Blowing out a breath, Julie shakes her head at him once, pushing back her chair to inspect the damage.

“It’s fine, honestly. Don’t–” she pauses, holding up the denim on either side of the collar and frowning at the pretty large brown stain. “Worry about it.”

Can she wash it? She’s never tried, but well. She bites her lip as she looks at it, the stranger awkwardly standing just a short distance away with a wad of used napkins and his half spilt drink, and yeah, she definitely won't be able to wear it tonight.

“I’m so sorry.” He says again and someone must catch his attention over her shoulder because his eyes dart away from her, eyebrows shooting up and shrugging his shoulders and, it’s kinda cute. The way he seems to be hovering, unsure if she’s going to shout at him.

“Seriously, it’s fine. Accidents happen, right?” She shoots him a quick smile – though not missing the way his cheeks turn slightly pink – before turning back to her jacket, carefully laying it out on the chair to hopefully dry out enough for her to stuff it in her bag before she needs to leave. She really hopes it stops raining.

“I uh– shit I’m sorry. Again. I gotta–” He gestures to the door where Julie can see his friends waiting for him, barely contained grins on all their faces that has Julie rolling her eyes. Boys. She looks back at him, raising an eyebrow even as her lips tick up into a small smile, she’s rewarded by his cheeks going red, the hand still holding the napkins rubbing at the back of his neck and a stuttered ‘goodbye’.

Sitting back down, Julie rolls her eyes again, muttering under her breath about ‘annoying cute boys’ and ‘favourite jackets’. Leaning down to pick up her fallen pen with one hand while the other tapped out a reply to Carrie. An hour more of sitting here, attempting to do her essay and then she’d have to go if she wanted enough time to get ready.

“So where are you?”

Julie couldn’t hear what was being said on the other side of the phone, but judging by the way Carrie was rolling her eyes the answer wasn’t correct. Flynn leans her head on Julie’s shoulder, their linked arms drawing them closer as they walk, it’s not the most comfortable way to walk, but they’ve already had a few drinks and Flynn gets a little clingy after one. Julie puts her head on top of Flynns as they stumble along cracked stone streets.

“She actually might end up killing Bobby at this rate,” Julie mutters and is rewarded with Flynn letting out a laugh that has Carrie looking over her shoulder at them, eyes softening for a moment before she’s rolling them again. If she hadn’t known the other girl as long as she had, Julie would be worried about permanent eye damage.

“Fucking hell. Okay. Yeah, okay we’ll be like, ten minutes then. Yeah, yeah, okay bye.”

Sliding her phone into her back pocket Carrie took a half step back so she was walking with them again, linking her arm on Flynns other side.

“They’re at the Cavern Club,” Carrie looks at Julie over the top of Flynn’s head and lets out a loud sigh, “I know. That’s where we were going to go anyway. They’re so annoying.”

But she says it in a fond sort of way. Like how you talk about your neighbour's dog that barks too early in the morning and wakes you up, but always runs over to say hello to you through the fence when you walk past and brightens up your day. Annoying, but sweet.

Julie’s only met Carrie’s cousin Bobby once, it had been a short ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ type interaction as he ran into Carrie’s house to pick up his bag and then run straight back out again.

She’s never met the other three members of the band at all, but she knows, after doing a little bit of internet searching, that their band isn’t half bad. They’ve got some pretty good songs and a small following that she is sure is bound to get bigger by the time they’ve finished being the opener for whoever they’re touring with and their first album is out in the world.

The three of them flash their id’s to the security on the door, slightly giddy smiles on all their faces even now, still not used to it all being legal for them to drink under the age of twenty-one. But the security guy doesn’t even blink and then they’re walking down a flight of stairs, the air getting warmer and the sound of drums and guitars reaching them.

Carrie grabs hold of Flynn's hand and Flynn grabs a hold of Julies and then they’re weaving through people and avoiding knocking drinks out of hands.

Her attention is pulled from the crowd to the stage at the back of the room, a band playing a cover of something she can’t name, they don’t sound too bad, and the part of her that used to fall in love with music every time she heard it wants to stop and listen. But that part of her is small and quiet and shy now, so she keeps her grip on Flynn’s hand and follows along.

Julie doesn’t know how Carrie knows where she’s going but all of a sudden they’re coming to a stop, her free hand reaching out to balance herself on Flynn’s shoulder even as a small part of her is still trying to work out what the song is.

Turning her eyes away from the stage she looks at the five boys sitting at the table, a collection of bottles scattered across the wood, and Julie smiles at Bobby who’s standing up to hug Carrie, opens her mouth to say hello before stopping. Her brows furrow as she locks eyes with a shaggy haired brunette who’s own eyes are widening in realisation.

“You!” She blurts out before she can stop herself, and if anyone asks she would blame it on the three drinks she had before leaving the dorms, detangling her fingers from Flynn’s to point at him. With the music blaring so loud only the boys still sat at the table and Flynn heard her, the latter turning to raise her brows while Julie can see the boys trying not to laugh.

“He’s the guy who spilt coffee on my jacket earlier,” she shouts over the music, hand gesturing wildly at the table and Flynn follows her hand, eyes resting on the culprit.

“That was her favourite jacket!” Flynn props one hand on her hip and almost glares at him, but it loses part of its ‘scare factor’ when she starts swaying a little in place to the music. Well, Julie thinks it should lose some of it’s scaring power, but the guy still looks kinda worried, so who’s Julie to know?

“I said I was sorry!” He puts his hands up, shoulder raising to almost his ears, and with his eyes already open so wide and his hair curling slightly at the ends, Julie has to wonder how much trouble that look has gotten him out of over the years.

“You guys have already met?” Bobby jumps into the conversation before Julie has a chance to reply and Carrie is looking between them, lips pursed.

“This is the girl whose jacket Luke ruined earlier,” the blonde one says and Julie vaguely recognises him as being one of the boys from the cafe.

“Dude,” Bobby raises his eyebrows at the jacket ruiner – Luke, Julie reminds herself – shaking his head in disappointment.

“It was an accident!” Luke turns his sad kicked puppy look on Bobby before looking back at Julie, his hands lowering but his eyes still drastically wide, “I really am sorry about it.”

Julie tries, she really does, to hold on to that small kindle of annoyance that she’d felt upon seeing him again. But well, the jacket is already ruined and she’s come out to avoid doing an essay and she’s finding it really hard to be mad at someone so cute. Blowing out a breath she shakes her head at him.

“It’s fine, I’ll forgive and forget the whole thing if you buy me a drink.”

“That I can do,” the furrow in his brows smooths out and his shoulders relax and suddenly there’s a smile spreading across his face that seems to light up his eyes.

“So, you’ve met Luke. That’s Reggie, he’s our bassist,” Bobby nods at the dark haired guy sitting next to Luke who grins and waves, and it’s such an infectiously happy wave that Julie can't help but wave back. “Alex, kickass drummer,” the blonde who spoke earlier ducks his head a little, an almost shy smile on his face as he nods at them, “And Willie. Officially he’s one of our roadies, unofficially he’s just here to hype us up and do cool tricks in empty arenas.” Willie, who’s sat pressed against Alex’s side, raises his hand in a wave.

“This is Julie and this is Flynn,” Carrie points at them each before claiming the seat next to Alex and looking at Luke, “We’ll take 3 vodka lemonades. Please.” She only adds the please on the end after Flynn sits next to her, nudging her elbow into her side, Julie notices with a smile.

There’s a moment of bodies moving as Luke gets up from his side of the table, pulling Bobby along with him towards the bar and Reggie is waving his hand at her, nodding at the empty space along the bench next to him that she slides into gratefully.

They can’t really see the stage set up from here, but the music is still just as loud and Julie starts nodding her head along to the beat, trying to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of the table. Something about Carrie’s group and choreography and convincing someone to add in a dance break to a song. She’s laughing at something Willie said when a glass is slid across the table in front of her, a bottle of something passing over her to Reggie and she looks up in time to see Luke sliding into the space next to her, a small smile on his face.

“Forgiven and forgotten?” He asks, eyebrow quirked as he lifts his own drink, tilting it towards her in invitation.

“Forgiven and forgotten,” she agrees picking her glass up and tapping it against his beer bottle, shooting him a smile of her own before chasing the straw of her drink to take a sip, trying hard not to blush at the intensity of his stare.

It’s two hours later, three drinks and a deeply regrettable shot later, happily on the precipice of truly drunk but hanging out in tipsy land, when Julie shakes her head at Luke who’s standing on the bench. Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he writes on the curved brick of the ceiling.

“Dude no ones gonna be able to even read that!” Reggie complains from next to her, his eyes squinting as if it will help him to read their names better. It doesn’t, Julie’s already tried.

“Why did we let the one with the worst handwriting do this?” Alex tilts his head to look up at Luke, who waves the hand not holding the pen in his face, almost hitting him but missing by several inches to the left and it sets them all off giggling.

“Because the rest of you are cowards!” He wobbles a little as he shuffles his feet to change angle, and Julie reaches out on instinct to hold his leg, fingers wrapping around his calf as if it will stop him from falling. His head drops down to look at her, teeth biting his bottom lip as he smiles at her quickly before going back to the ceiling.

To leave his – their – mark on a legendary musical site. Luke's words, the rest of them hadn’t been able to talk him out of it so they’d gone right into encouraging.

“I think you’re getting cowards and idiots mixed up,” Carrie mutters, head propped up on her hands, elbows resting on the table. Well, Reggie and Julie and Willie had gone straight to encouraging, the others were still on teasing.

“Do you want your name added or not?” Luke grumbles but Julie can see his pen moving, going over the letters of what she assumes is meant to be Dirty Candi, and bites her cheek to not laugh.

“Don’t forget it’s an ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ for candy!” Flynn leans forward, eyes on the ceiling as she shouts up at him and Luke says something, but it’s too quiet for any of them to hear.

It isn’t until he moves to get off the bench that Julie realises she still has her hand wrapped around his calf, her fingers idly tapping along to the song some guy with a guitar is playing behind them. Heat fills her cheeks (that she’ll blame on how warm it is in the club and the alcohol in her system thank you very much) as she lets go, pulling her hand back into her lap, watching from the corner of her eye as he jumps down and back into his seat, a proud smile on his face.

“Now when we’re big and famous people can come and hunt our names down.”

“And finally realise that you have awful writing and question how any of our songs get written,” Bobby grins at him, elbow nudging his side which sends Luke leaning into her to try and avoid it, sliding along the bench until there’s no space between them, and she can’t find it in herself to be too mad about it. He smells like tequila and mint and aftershave all mixed together, not really a good combination, but one she finds herself liking anyway.

“Well why don’t you start writing the songs, huh?” Luke retorts, and starts a back and forth with Bobby, Alex chiming in and Flynn watching it all like a tennis match, and Juile tries to follow it, but all she can think about is how Luke hasn’t moved back. How his thigh is pressed against her leg and his arm is resting around her back, hand near her hip and how if she wanted to, she could rest her chin on his shoulder and kiss his neck.

Not that she wants to kiss his neck. Does she?

Julie furrows her brows, biting her lip as she examines those thoughts, tries to decide if it’s the alcohol or the music or her lack of sleep or if she just wants to kiss him.

Flynn says something and it makes him laugh, loud and bright and unrestrained, head thrown back and eyes closed. And yeah, she just wants to kiss him. Fuck.

Reggie slings an arm around her shoulders, the other going over Flynns and tugging them together until their cheeks are all pushing together and Julie giggles, poking at his side with her partially trapped arm.

“What do we think chocolate tequila is like?” He asks, eyes glued to the chalkboard menu above them.

“Not as nice as the summer fruits one,” Julie says back, wrinkling her nose a little at the memory of when she’d tried it. If you liked chocolate, it was a bitter disappointment in her opinion. But she was also drunk enough now not to mind.

“Alex says we can’t get the coffee one. Thinks we’ll have a repeat of the red bull incident.” Luke appears on her other side, pushing his body into the small gap between her side and the next group of people. He’s stood so he’s facing her – them – and rests one arm on the counter top.

“Man he’s gotta get over that, it was one time,” Reggie mutters and Julie wants to ask what the ‘red bull incident’ is, but then Flynn is sliding three shot glasses towards them, salt and limes following, apparently having ordered without any of them noticing.

“We’re standing with mango!” Flynn shouts, shot already in one hand and salt on the other, clearly waiting for the three of them to catch up. Reggie lowers his arms and Julie can feel Luke’s hand brush past her arm as he moves to lick the back of his hand, she can feel herself flushing as she watches him do it. And is happy to note that he flushes just the same as he watches her lick her hand in turn.

Idly, Julie notices that Reggie counts them down, that Luke inclines his head at her before he lifts his shot to his lips, that Julie lifts her own, the liquid sliding down her throat with a slight burn that’s not eased at all by the lime she bites into. She squeezes her eyes shut against it and when she opens them sees Luke grinning at her, eyes full of something she can’t name but makes her want to blush again.

“Y’know what? Screw Alex, four of the coffee my good man!” Reggie shouts next to her, waving a hand at the bartender in front of them who just rolls their eyes but puts out four more shot glasses.

“Okay, you gotta tell us about the red bull incident,” Flynn finally asks what had been nibbling at the back of her mind from the moment Luke had spoken so she pulls her attention away from him and back to her friends as Reggie launches into his story that even grabs the attention of the bartender for a moment.

But Luke is a warm presence at her side, leaning into her space and breath ghosting against her neck as he chimes in the story. If she stepped back, just a little, she could lean her back against his chest. She wonders if he’d wrap an arm around her waist to hold her steady? Julie blinks and blows out a breath, raising an eyebrow as Reggie talks.

“Wait, how’d you get onto the roof?”

“So why Liverpool?” Luke asks, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as they aimlessly walk through almost empty streets, faint music coming from clubs and other drunk people giggling in doorways. The fresh air has helped a little to sober her up, but not enough for her to know where they’re going. But they’re following Carrie, who has a plan for the night and they’ve no option but to follow it.

Julie wraps one arm around herself, the other pushing hair over one shoulder as she thinks about it. There isn’t really a big fancy answer, no special reason for her choice, she shrugs at Luke, lips ticking up into a smile.

“It was the only place still with spots open,” she can see the slight confusion on his face and explains more, “I wasn’t going to take the study abroad year, but I changed majors and I needed to get away from home for a while. Carrie and Flynn had already signed up and the internet said the train didn’t take too long to get to Manchester or Glasgow.”

“You changed majors?”

Of all the things she’s said that hadn’t been the part she’d thought Luke would zone in on. It wasn’t really something she liked to talk about much, her fall away from music. She still loved it, still listened and wrote and sang, but the passion she’d once had, the magic she’d once felt whenever she sat at a piano? It had gone away. Had been gone for a long time. Had been gone for four years and she’d only been pretending she still felt the magic.

Everything she played or wrote was missing something and no one had seemed to notice but here.

It hadn’t been until one of her teachers in first year had pointed something out that Julie had finally confessed. And changed course and major the next week.

Everyone had tried to understand, had listened as she explained why she couldn’t do it. How her mom and music were so intertwined together in her head and her heart that it felt impossible to detangle them, to love and play music without always feeling like there was something missing. But she knew they didn’t really get it

So she’d signed up for the study abroad, and picked Liverpool because they had a good English Lit course and was close enough to her friends if she needed them. Okay, so maybe she’d lied a little, there was a fancy answer for why she’d moved, but picking Liverpool had just been random.

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and glances ahead of them, where Willie has Alex clinging on to his back, running through a puddle and laughing loud and clear. She can’t help but smile at them, at the carefree way Willie spins around and Alex holds tighter, face red with whatever he’s trying to say between laughs. Luke must follow her gaze because he lets out a soft snort of laughter, and she can see him shake his head from the corner of her eye.

“I’d hate them if they weren’t so adorable together,” he muttered, but his gaze is soft as they both watch the couple; Willie lets Alex off his back and grabs hold of his hand before he had a chance to get too far away. They’re all soft eyes and teasing smiles and vibes that scream about being in love, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Julie looks away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment as they share a kiss.

“Tell me about the tour,” Julie says, drawing Lukes attention back to her and it’s the right thing to say because his face lights up with a smile that she’s sure is going to drive girls wild one day soon.

Julie nods along with the song blaring through the speakers, mouthing the words so herself as she scrolls through her phone, ignoring the press of bodies crowding the smoking area as best she can. From her spot near the wall, opposite the door, she can see Carrie and Willie and Alex dancing together, wide smiles and heads thrown back.

Flynn and Reggie are talking to a group of people off to the side and Julie can see the way Flynn has pulled her braids over one shoulder and is gesturing to Reggie every few words the way she does when she’s trying to hype someone up (she knows, from having been on the receiving end of it, many times). Bobby, standing with them, seems to find the whole thing hilarious, grinning around the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Okay, favourite book?” Luke asks, leaning in close to be heard over the noise and if he doesn’t move back, well Julie’s not about to complain. The little space heaters on the wall don’t provide much warmth, and it’s January and she’s cold and someone ruined her jacket.

“Currently or of all time?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she turns her head a little to look at him. Her heart stutters for a second at how close his face is to hers, she can see the small flecks of green in his eyes, can feel his breath ghost across her cheeks.

“Current,” he says and she can see as his eyes flicker down to her lips quickly before back up to her eyes and Julie really hopes she’s not blushing right now.

“Stardust. By Neil Gaiman. I’m reading it for one of my classes and it hits all the boxes for a fairytale.” She likes fairy tales, likes the idea of them, likes the message of true love and pure of heart and happily ever afters. This one just happened to involve lightning pirates which was a bonus. Okay, so maybe the lightning pirates were mostly a film detail, but still. “Favourite food?”

“There’s this little hole in the wall place down by the strip? They do the best cheeseburgers. If I could have one for every meal, I would.”

They’re still standing close together, eyes staring too intensely for a game of twenty questions and comments about cheeseburgers and Julie’s eyes flicker to his lips, can see the way they’re pulling up a little on one side. She wants to lean forwards, close the gap between them and press her lips against his. But then she shivers, shoulders hunching up around her ears as she rubs her bare arms, conscious of how close they’re sitting and how much she just kind of wants to steal his body heat.

“Are you cold?” He’s biting his lip, pulling back out of her personal space and Julie almost whines at the loss of contact and body heat and – well maybe she’s too drunk to be making smart choices right now if she’s five seconds away from whining.

“Well someone ruined my jacket,” she points out, eyebrows raised at him and is rewarded with his cheeks flushing and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck which she’s quickly coming to realise means he’s embarrassed or just a little flustered.

“I thought we’d agreed to forgive and forget about that?” He mumbles and before she can come up with a response Luke is standing up, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and then he’s carefully draping it over her shoulders, fingers tapping lightly on her arm until she holds it out for him to slip through one arm hole, doing the same on the other side and then pulling her hair out from under the collar.

It’s too big on her, but the faux fur inside is soft on her skin and still warm from Luke and she can stick her thumbs through the little gaps created by the fastened buttons and if she turned her head a little she could smell his aftershave clinging to the collar. Julie can’t help the little smile that graces her face, rotating her shoulders to let the coat settle better on her body.

Looking up at him her brows furrow a little at the look on his face (if she wasn’t so drunk and giddy and tired she’d say it was something like awe but that made no sense. Why would Luke be looking at her in awe while she wore his jacket?), but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared and he’s smiling at her, that wide smile from back at the start of the night when he’d handed her her drink and she’d tapped it against his.

“Thanks,” she tilts her head to the side, loose curls falling across her cheeks as she looks at him, a wide smile of her own and she opens her mouth to say something else – though she’s not sure what she’s going to say – when another voice cuts through and pops the little bubble they’ve created.

When did they even create their private conversation bubble? Julie doesn’t know, and from the way Luke’s head whips around to land on Flynn and Reggie and Bobby with wide eyes, he probably doesn’t know either. But it’s nice to know that he’d been enjoying their conversation as much as she had.

“We’re gonna get food, come on!”

“I wanted to be wrapped up in bed an hour ago,” Julie sighed but there’s no real annoyance in her tone as she hugs Luke’s jacket closed tight across her chest, shoulder brushing against his arm as they walk.

“But you also wanted pizza instead of McDonalds like everyone else.” And Luke has a point but she still pulls a face, sticking her tongue out at him and getting a laugh in return. She couldn’t even be annoyed at it, he had a nice laugh.

Plus, when she’d said she wanted pizza Luke was the only one who’d wanted to come with her, the rest of their friends going back to their hotels. He’d walked all the way to the takeaway with her, shared half of his chips and then started walking her back to her dorm, insisting on carrying her half eaten pizza too. It was all very sweet and kind and not helping her not want to kiss him.

“Where’s your first stop?” She asks, because he was about to start a tour and she had school and maybe if they were both back home they might have been able to give something a go, but they weren’t and Julie wasn’t really a one night stand kind of person.

“We’re heading up to Newcastle on Sunday to kick it all off,” there was a slight bounce in his step, his excitement almost palpable and Julie could tell that this was all he’d ever wanted. To play music to as many people as he could. A small part of her remembered what that was like, to want to share your songs with the world.

“Sing something!” She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the street, bouncing a little on the balls on her feet and grinning at him. Because she was still a little drunk and she missed feeling excited about playing music and here was this sweet charming guy who loved it so much and felt it with everything he had and Julie wanted to be like that again too. She wanted to think about music without it being tinged with sadness.

“What?” He laughed, eyes a little wide and glassy and with his hair looking more wild then it had when they’d started the night, but Julie was pretty sure she looked the same so she didn’t comment.

“Sing! Anything! Please?” Julie tried pouting at him, doing her best impression of Carlos and his puppy dog eyes and something about it must have worked because Luke huffs out a laugh as he looks at her, biting his lip in thought for a moment before he nods his head for them to keep walking before he starts singing.

His voice is a little rough, from screaming lyrics in the clubs and shouting to be heard in the bars, and his words are a little slurred because he’s a little drunk and a lot tired, but Julie’s sober enough to decide it’s one of the best versions of Mamma Mia she’s ever heard. As he gets to the first chorus she joins in.

They were just two slightly drunk young adults, singing in the street and if nothing else comes of his night she’ll always have this memory of unadulterated joy.

“You can sing,” he whispers and now it’s Luke’s turn to pull her to a stop with a hand on her arm and a look of wonder on his face. Julie shrugs a little and can feel her cheeks heating, but she keeps their eye contact and smiles at him.

“Only drunk in the streets.” Which is more true then he’ll ever know.

Luke opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off by pointing over his shoulder at the building behind them.

“This is me.” She’s not sure what to do now, take her pizza and run? That seems a little rude, and unsafe. Julie’s not sure she can actually run in these shoes without falling. Luke looks over his shoulder quickly before looking back at her, blowing out a breath and nodding.

“Right, right.” He seems just as unsure as she is about what to do now, which makes Julie feel a little better about it.

“I should–”

“Can I–”

They both start at the same time and then Julie is laughing and Luke is huffing out a breath while a smile grows on his face. The only thing between them is a pizza box and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes keep flickering down to her lips.

“I can’t kiss you!” She blurts out, a hand quickly going up to cover her mouth and Luke’s eyes widen, taking a half step back, retracting his hand like he’d been burnt.

“That wasn’t– I– this–” Luke started stuttering, face going red and Julie quickly shook her head at him.

“That came out wrong! Fuck. I–” She curled her hands into fists at her sides, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them, “I want to kiss you, but I can’t.”

The shock on his face had softened at the start of her sentence only to morph into confusion at the end.

“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, Molina.” Luke still looks confused, but he’s still standing in front of her and that’s enough for her.

“I like you,” she dips her head as she says it, because Julie’s pretty sure she could really like him if given the chance, “but I’m no good at one night...things and you’re about to go on a tour and I’m stuck here and I just, I think– I think I’d like us to be friends. I think we could be really good friends actually.”

Because they’d only spent a few hours together and she’d laughed and smiled more in that time then she had in awhile. Luke was sweet and funny and had something to say about every song the DJ picked to play but sang along anyway. Which is why she doesn’t want to risk a friendship for one night in bed. The confusion on Luke’s face turns into understanding and the soft, slightly sad smile that he gives her tells Julie that she’s right. A friendship with him would be better than one really fun night.

“I get it,” and he carefully puts his hand back on her arm, squeezing slightly before pulling away. “And, for the record, I’m not very good at one night things either.”

Her heart beat sounds loud in her ears and it takes Julie a moment to refocus her thoughts. Friendship. No kissing. Friendship.

“Well, maybe if we can keep a friendship going until we next see each other we can try this moment again,” she waves her hand around them with a small laugh. They could probably keep a friendship going long distance, but Julie isn’t so sure that they’ll ever get a moment like this again.

“Deal,” Luke grins down at her and pulls his phone out of his back pocket and unlocks it, Julie raises her eyebrows at him when he holds it out for her, “In order to keep in touch we’re gonna need to exchange numbers.”

“You make a point,” she agrees, putting in her information and handing it back to him in exchange for her pizza box. “Text me when you get back to your hotel, okay? So I know you didn’t get lost.”

“Yes, boss.” His smile is a little teasing now and Julie shakes her head at him as she brushes past him to walk into her dorm. She’s half way across the road when stops in her tracks to turn back at him.

“Wait, I’m still wearing your jacket.” Julie stars to shrug the item off when Luke shakes his head, already starting to walking backwards down the street.

“No, keep it!” He shouts with a smile, “Means we’ll have a reason to see each other again and have another go at this.”

Julie just shakes her head at him with a laugh, watching as he walks away before tightening her grip on the box and finally making it into her dorm. She’s still got an essay to write and a pile of laundry to put away and magic in music is still missing, but she’s gotten herself a new jacket and a friend who she thinks could make her life a little brighter. So she’ll forgive and forget that she's home an hour later than promised.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #carrie wilson #willie #flynn #rosie vs writing #i just. really like making fake texts and igs and tweets lmoa #*fics

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