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#harry angst
justlemmeadoreyou · 2 days
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Unrequited
(the second part to unfulfilled)
(i still don't think y'all will like this, but 🥺🥺)
Summary: Harry invites you to a party, and something goes wrong. He blames himself for it, but then something unexpected happens.
Words: 2.7k
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, intoxicants, kissing, fluff.
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“Hey, you wanna come to the party tonight?” Harry asked you, smiling.
You looked around, not believing that he was asking you, of all people. He saw you looking around, and said, “What?”
“You’re asking me?” you answered.
“Yeah.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. You wanna come or not?”
You stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to burst out into laughter, and tell you that he was joking, it was all a silly prank. But, he didn’t.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, y/n. seriously. I'm asking you to come to a party with me tonight.”
“But-but no one ever asks me that. Like, ever.”
“Why?”
“I tell them not to…” you pout, and he presses his lips together.
"Come on, why not give it a shot?" Harry urged. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the idea of attending a party with Harry, someone who was way more confident and popular, and…extroverted, was exhilarating. But on the other hand, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place, like a puzzle piece that just didn't fit in.
"I...I don't know," you stammered, clutching onto the strap of your bag tightly. "I don't belong there?"
Harry's expression softened, and he stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. You'll fit right in, I promise. And besides, I'll be there with you the whole time."
His words were comforting, and you found yourself slowly nodding in agreement. Maybe this was an opportunity to step out of your comfort zone, to experience something new.
"Okay," you finally replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll go."
Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Great! You won't regret it, I promise."
As the evening approached, you found yourself growing increasingly nervous. You fussed over your outfit, second-guessing every choice you made. But despite your apprehension, you couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation building in your stomach. You hadn’t felt that in a while.
When Harry arrived to pick you up, you were greeted with a warm smile that instantly eased your nerves. As you made your way to the party together, he chatted animatedly, sharing stories and jokes that made you laugh until your sides hurt. He was fun to be with, and you both got along really well.
Upon reaching the bustling venue, the sound of music and laughter filled the air. Harry guided you through the crowd, introducing you to his friends with an easy charm that made you feel surprisingly at ease.
But as the night progressed, you found yourself retreating into the background, feeling increasingly self-conscious amidst the sea of confident faces. Everyone danced and drank with confidence, feeling lively and free. But you felt like you were trapped, and you envied every person who enjoyed themselves without a care in the world, and didn’t feel guilty afterwards. You clutched onto a plastic cup of beer, taking small sips and trying to stay there. You had no idea how you wound up in this corner, or where Harry went. He was supposed to be by your side the whole night, so where was he?
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Harry began to search for you, his concern growing with each passing minute. He navigated through the throngs of people, his eyes scanning the room until he stumbled upon a dimly lit alcove hidden from view.
There, sitting hunched over with a vacant expression, was you.
Harry's heart clenched at the sight, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Without a moment's hesitation, he made his way towards you, his footsteps audible as he got closer.
"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice laced with worry. "Are you okay?"
You looked up, your eyes glazed and unfocused, a wave of relief washing over Harry at the sight of your familiar face. As he got closer, he saw the worry in your expression, and it made him even more concerned.
"What happened?" he asked gently, crouching down beside you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "Did someone do something to you?"
"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the thumping music.
Harry glanced at you, concern etched across his features. "Are you okay, Y/N?"
You shook your head, your movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. "No, something's wrong. I need to leave."
Harry's brow furrowed with worry as he took in your disoriented state. "Okay, let's go," he said firmly, his hand reaching out to steady you.
But as you made your way towards the exit, Harry's suspicions were piqued. He noticed the way your steps faltered, the glassy look in your eyes, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. You weren’t yourself, and even if you didn’t drink often, it wouldn’t have been because of just a couple of beers.
"Wait," he said, his voice urgent. "Did you drink anything tonight?"
You frowned, trying to recall the events of the evening through the haze of confusion. "I...I don't remember," you admitted, your heart pounding with fear. Everything felt so big and loud, and you just wanted to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there.
Harry's expression darkened, anger flaring within him as he surveyed the chaotic scene around you. "Damn it," he muttered, his grip tightening on your arm. 
"I bet someone spiked your drink."
Fear gripped your chest, and you held onto Harry's arm, grateful for him being there for you.
"What do we do?" you whispered, your voice trembling, and you sighed loudly..
"We get you out of here, now," Harry replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Hold onto me, Y/N. I've got you."
With Harry's arm wrapped protectively around your waist, you stumbled towards the exit, your heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. Each step felt like an eternity as you fought to keep your wits about you, your mind racing with a million thoughts and fears.
As you got out of the ridiculously overcrowded place, you felt better. Air rushed into your lungs, fresh air–that hadn’t come out of somebody else’s mouth. He guided you to his car, and assured you he was sober.
“Promise?” you asked, looking up at him with doe, glassy eyes. He nodded, gripping your chin and mumbling, “promise”
Once inside, he wasted no time in starting the engine, his hands gripping the steering wheel  "Hang on, Y/N," he said firmly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I'll get you home safe, I promise."
Harry drove through the quiet streets, the weight of the situation pressed heavily on his shoulders. He stole glances at you through the mirror,, his heart sinking at the sight of your slumped form in the passenger seat, your eyes glazed with intoxication.
As the car rolled to a stop outside your dormitory, Harry turned to you, concerned. "We're here, Y/N," he said gently. 
You nodded weakly, your movements slow and unsteady as you struggled to gather your bearings. With Harry's help, you stumbled out of the car and towards the entrance of the building, your steps faltering with each passing moment.
As Harry guided you down the hallway towards your room, your steps wobbled with each movement, and you couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably at the slightest provocation.
"Hey, watch your step," Harry chuckled, trying to steady you as you stumbled over your own feet.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," you slurred, your words muffled by a fit of laughter. "I look like a drunk moron."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at your quip, shaking his head in amusement as he guided you towards your door. "Sure."
As Harry helped you into your room, you collapsed onto the bed with a dramatic flourish, your limbs splayed out in every direction as you let out a contented sigh.
"Ah, home sweet home," you declared, your voice tinged with merriment. "I think I might just live here forever."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle again, shaking his head in amusement as he watched you flop onto the mattress. "I think you've had enough excitement for one night, Y/N."
You pouted playfully, your bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "But the night is still young, Harry! We could have so much fun together."
Your demeanor had suddenly changed, from afraid and scared to carefree. The intoxicant that was added to your drink might be doing its work.
"I think we've had more than enough excitement for one night, let’s tuck you in" he replied, his tone teasing yet gentle.
As Harry tucked the blankets around you, you let out a contented sigh, your eyes drifting shut and becoming droopy.. "You're a good friend, Harry," you murmured, your words slurred with exhaustion. "The best."
Harry's heart swelled with affection at your words, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you drift off to sleep.
"Sleep tight, Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft with warmth.
As Harry finished tucking you into bed, he turned to leave, but before he could take a step, you reached out and grabbed his hand, your sudden touch sending a shiver through him.
"Harry," you whispered, your voice soft.
Harry turned back to face you, his heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in your gaze. "What is it, Y/N?"
Without warning, you pulled him towards you, your movements clumsy but filled with determination. Before Harry could react, you pressed your lips against his, the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated but filled with a raw intensity that took his breath away.
For a moment, Harry froze, his mind reeling with a whirlwind of emotions. He knew he should pull away, should put an end to this before things went too far. But as he felt the warmth of your lips against his, he couldn't deny the spark of desire that ignited within him, the longing that pulsed between them like a current of electricity. He had wanted this, maybe for far too long. But it was tucked away in a corner of his heart, and right now, it was exploding out like firecrackers.
But then, with a sudden surge of clarity, Harry pulled back, his hands gently but firmly pushing you away. "Y/N, we can't," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
You looked up at him, confusion in your eyes as you searched his for answers. "But why not?" you whispered, your voice filled with hurt.
Harry's heart ached at the pain in your gaze, but he knew he had to be honest with you, even if it hurt. "Because...because I can't do this to you, Y/N. You're not yourself right now, and I can't take advantage of that."
You stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in as realization dawned upon you. "I...I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to...I’m just–just stupid and–"
Harry reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender yet filled with sadness. "It's okay, Y/N. I know you didn't mean to. You’re really high and you should sleep"
You nodded once again, closing your eyes shut and pulling the blanket over you, suddenly feeling cold. He murmured good night, but you were already passed out.
He stood there for a while or two, watching as your mouth dropped open. Your face looked peaceful, and it gave reassurance to him. His heart was pounding in his chest since he found you at the party, and he kept blaming himself for all that happened.
But his heart was at ease now. You were safe, and sleeping beside him.
He couldn’t be happier
. . .
The next morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest, your mind clouded with confusion and regret. As you stumbled out of bed and got ready for class, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that you didn’t remember what happened last night.
Your steps were slow and hesitant as you made your way to the lecture hall, your heart pounding with anxiety. You were trying to replay all the moments of yesterday back and forth, but the last thing you remembered was drinking a beer and then going for another one, when you had seen 5 already filled cups kept in a tray. Without thinking, you went for that one, and you were now cursing yourself for it.
When you finally reached the classroom, you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone as you took your seat at the back of the room. You felt like a stranger in your own skin, the weight of guilt and shame bearing down on you.
As the minutes ticked by, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the lecture, your mind wandering back to the events of the party, precisely to those you didn’t remember. Harry was nowhere to be found, and you wondered if you had misbehaved towards him.
He must regret inviting you in the first place.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Harry entered the classroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, your face drawn and weary, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy you had exuded the night before.
"Hey, Y/N," Harry said softly, making his way towards you with a hopeful smile. "How are you feeling today?"
You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance, and forced a weak smile. "Hey, Harry. I'm...I'm okay, I guess."
Harry's smile faltered slightly at the hint of sadness in your voice, but he pushed aside his concerns, determined to lift your spirits. "That's good to hear. Listen, about last night..."
But before he could finish his sentence, the professor began the lecture, cutting off their conversation and leaving Harry feeling frustrated and disappointed. You let out a sigh of relief, because you didn’t have to hear about the horrible things you did last night, for an hour at least.
During class, Harry felt uneasy and unsure about where they stood. He kept looking at you, feeling worried when he saw you looking down.
As the lecture came to an end, Harry gathered his things and made his way towards you, 
"Y/N," he said softly again, "Can we talk for a minute?"
You looked up, nodding "Sure, Harry. What's up?"
Harry took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the right words. "I just wanted to say...about last night. You were perfect, Y/N. Nothing bad happened, okay?"
You frowned, confusion in your eyes as you tried to make sense of his words. "What do you mean, Harry? I don't remember much from last night."
Harry's heart sank at your admission, a pang of disappointment piercing through him like a knife. "It's...it's nothing, Y/N. Don't worry about it."
But despite his attempt to brush off the conversation, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling of sadness that lingered within him. He knew that he should be grateful that nothing bad had happened between you both, but deep down, he couldn't help but wish that you remembered the kiss you had shared, and the way you made his heart beat faster. He wished you remembered him driving you home, and then being silly around him.
“That’s a huge relief! Oof” 
You said after a while, trusting him on that. He wouldn’t lie to you, you were sure of that.
“Yeah” he replied, forcing a smile, because he was sad.
“Guess I’ll see you later?” you asked, and he nodded.
You collected your materials and stuffed them back into your bag. Checking your schedule, you made your way to your next class, leaving Harry and his thoughts alone.
"But I love you more than words can say,
I can't count the reasons I should stay,
One by one they all just fade away,
But I love you more than words can say."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)
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190 notes · View notes
unabashegirl · 3 days
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insta blurb for gracie abrams
Absolutely. I am guessing you want her as a face claim? Anyway, here is the blurb! Enjoy!
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liked by oliviarodrigo, harrystyles and 204,302 others
yourinstagram I had so much fun last night. Let's do it all over again Phoenix ☀️!
view all 10,359 comments
oliviarodrigo I love you music. I am obssesed with your single! Have it on repeat all day! 💞
yourinstagram omfg I am freaking out. 🫠 and I love yours!
yourfan221 when are you coming to NYC!
yourinstagram next month!
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liked by yourinstagram, harrysfan40 and 20,485 others
harrysconstantupdates Harry was seen last night in New York at Y/N Y/L/N. Fans said they saw him dancing and enjoying her music. He seems to be a fan.
view all 5000 comments
yourfan103 literaly Y/N's dream. She is such a fan of him. So happy to see them supporting one another.
harrysfan10 why do I get the feeling that something is brewing over there?
harrys204 omg! I hope we get a collab out of this!
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liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 29,094, 294 others
yourinstagram main caracter energy ✨. I probably shouldn’t be posting this…
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harrystyles defiantly shouldn't…
yourinstagram upps 🤭
taylorswift I can already tell is a banger!!! 💃
harryfan09 its his world and we are just living in it.
yourfan67 they are writing music!!! ekkkk
harryupdates keep posting. Appreciate the Harry content
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liked by niallhoran, jeffzoffs and 4,395,104 others
harrystyles She couldn't keep a secret...smh 🤦🏻‍♂️
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yourinstagram stoppp I'm sorry! I though you said it was fine!
jeffzoffs does she need a manager? 🤔
harrystyles NO!
yourinstagram YES!
niallhoran she is a cutie. what's her number? 😉
harrysfan30 NIALL!
onedirection4live he is asking for a death wish. Harry is defo interested in her.
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 90,049 others
yourinstagram well deserved break ;)
view all 20,293 comments
yourfan94 no way! is that Harry?
harrysfan204 Harry's nails are painted and what abt his tattoo? Isn’t him!
harryfan89 that is Harry! I knew they were dating!
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liked by harryupdates, yourfan56 and 940,385 others
tmz_tv #Harrystyles was seen kissing with new singer and songwriter Y/N Y/L/N after being spotted having an intimate dinner at an Italian restaurant in LA.
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harryfan02 I knew it!
yourfan308 they were spending too much time together. I am not surprised.
yournumeronefam we all saw it coming
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liked by harrystyles, oliviarodrigo and 10,395 others
yourinstagram yours truely ❤️
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harrystyles so agressive... 🔥
yourbestfriend where is my credit? You know how many pictures I took?!
yourinstagram stoppp
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liked by niallhoran, mitchrowland and 239,395 others
harrystyles just the two of us ✨
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mitchrowland actually we were all there 🙄
harrystyles you are ruining it
pillowpersonspp cuties 💜
yourbestfriend no wonder you've been MIA 🤭
harryfan204 he is so in love...
yourfan384 I hope he doesn't hurt her.
REQUEST ARE OPENED!
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moonchildstyles · 9 months
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rosemary
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rosemary part one: harry has a lot of secrets and has perfected the art of being alone. y/n likes to wear bows in her hair and tries harder than anyone harry has ever known.
wordcount: 14.5k+
—————
The sound of the lock clicking in place as Harry twisted the deadbolt on his front door had his shoulders relaxing. The kind of comfort a locked door brought was something he'd never take for granted. 
He kicked off his shoes beside the door, the dingy carpet making his beaten Vans look a lot cleaner than they really were. His keys clamoring atop the rickety side table he had set up next to the door had him wincing at the volume. He didn't like loud noises much anyway, but especially not after one of his longer shifts. Harry bypassed the single curtained window in his apartment, leaving the drapes heavily closed despite the morning light crawling over the horizon. 
First order of business was changing out of his work uniform. He hated nothing more than relaxing in the same pants he had worked all night in, even if the dress code of the grocery store was on the lax side. He flung the maroon collared shirt into his hamper, followed by the set of stiff, dark pants he wouldn't wear ever in his daily life. He could have melted as soon as he threw on a heather grey t-shirt and tattered sweats. 
The second he sunk into his bed, springs creaking under his weight, he felt the knots in his muscles begin to loosen. He'd never worked over nights before at any of his previous jobs, and he hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to adjust to falling asleep when the sun came up and the challenge his body would pose over working when he should be resting. At least, he was home. 
His studio apartment wasn't heavily furnished—or even lightly furnished, if he was being honest. This was his seventh home in the last handful of years, and after a while the idea of lugging furniture around and anything other than the essentials made him just as exhausted as the actual process of moving. It was easier to pack up and leave when there wasn't much for him to miss. Instead, he often bought secondhand, or anything cheap whenever he settled in a place that seemed good enough for the time being.
This particular move left him with a plain bed frame, the legs uneven but fixed with the help of a couple of old books. His pillows were thin, matching the frayed sheets he had stretched across his mattress and the threadbare comforter topping the whole thing. Like with most of his past apartments, the carpets held stains from before he moved in, walls yellowed from cigarettes he didn't smoke, and the kitchen appliances worked at their convenience. The only things that were truly his, that he never parted with in any of his moves and made this place less of a crash pad, were the few well-loved books under his bed that weren't being used to prop up the frame, and the small photo of his mother and sister sitting on a shelf he was lucky enough to have found at a garage sale when he moved in. 
Despite it all, Harry liked this place. 
The town he'd landed in was on the quieter side, too small for much trouble to rise up. He hoped that would make it an easy place to stick around for a while.
His body felt heavy when he forced himself to stand from his bed and pad over to the tiny kitchen tucked in the corner of the space. As exhausted as his body was, his brain was still very much awake and urging him to eat something before he settled any.
His kitchen was made up of limited cabinet space, a trio of stubborn appliances, and a square of loosely-laid tiles marking the confines of the space. The flimsy cabinets were barely hanging onto their hinges, from before even Harry moved in. The shelves were sparsely dotted with canned food and boxed snacks. They were the easiest and cheapest things to grab, even if they weren't necessarily bites that he liked. Plus, they were easy to travel with if he needed to leave in a split. 
The stubby refrigerator manning one of the walls held only the bare essentials, leaving the shelves and door more bare than not. The appliance mostly held the frozen meals he was able to get a discount on through his job. The microwave embedded in the wall stunk like burnt hair every time he ran it for longer than ten seconds. The stove was the most reasonable method of heating up food in this apartment, Harry had found, even if only two out of the four burners operated on more than a simmer. He had never used the oven in the three months since he made this his home, despite the fact it had been cleared by his landlord on move in day. The exposed wiring sticking out of the back looked like it would cause a house fire instead of just heating a lasagna. 
Harry bypassed it all as he rifled through his near-empty cabinets. To be fair, this wasn't the worst place he'd ever lived, so he'd take it if things were on the rundown side and carried an odd smell if he paid close enough attention. It was a routine the way he pulled out a can from his cupboard, a Spaghettio's label wrapped around the tin, before reaching for the misshapen pot he kept in a lower cabinet. His movements felt robotic as he went along, forming his meal out of habit more than any conscious thought. His brain happily turned onto autopilot as he stirred the runny tomato sauce, noodles floating through, until boiling bubbles broke through the surface. 
Taking it off the heat, Harry scooped it into a bowl. This was good enough for him. 
With the pot in the sink to be washed and the can in the trash, he moved on tired feet back to his bed. He didn't have a dining table to eat at, and he didn't really care if he was honest. It wasn't as if he was hosting dinner parties or entertaining guests. He was happy enough with nestling into his blankets and eating on his bed. 
Tucked underneath his pillow, Harry pulled out a well-worn book. A dog-eared page marked his place in the oil-softened pages. The spine no longer cracked when he folded open the pages, the stiff set in the glue having settled somewhere after his fiftieth read. The bent and frayed cover no longer phased him anymore, nor did the name inscribed in the inside cover that wasn't his. No matter the state, this book followed him through every move, every change, and every sleepless night.
He knew this love story like the back of his hand; the pages one of the only constants in his life of transiency. 
Harry wasn't even that much of a reader the first time he had picked up the volume. He had only been looking for something to escape into when he first started going on jobs, the stress and guilt beginning to warp his mind. These pages still hadn't lost their shine in his eyes, this story having been one of the only bright points when he swore he was digging himself to rock bottom. 
Absentmindedly spooning bites of his meal into his mouth, Harry slipped into the familiar story. The comfort was almost enough to have him lulled into something safe enough that he could have fallen asleep where he was sitting, memories of every sleepless night when he had turned to this book hitting his system. It was a feat little else had been able to achieve, and Harry was grateful for that. He couldn't keep staying up at all hours now that he had the challenge of flipping his days with this new job. 
Sitting on his well-loved bed, a well-loved copy of his favorite book in hand, and something that could pass as breakfast if he squinted hard enough, Harry felt at peace for a moment. 
He didn't mind being alone, not when it was like this anyway. He hoped he wouldn't have to move on from this place for a while. 
—————
Cardboard scraped against Harry's forearm as he reached into his box, digging through the packages of cookies and crackers that filled this specific shipment. The fluorescent lights above him felt especially fried now that the sun had gone down, washing out his skin and paling the ink of his tattoos. 
While the rest of the night crew were paired off and working together to stock the shelves, Harry was commissioned alone. He worked better by himself, he knew that, and it was nice to have his boss know that now too. It only took almost two months into his employment until everyone realized he wasn't the kind of person that enjoyed idle chatter or wanted to get close to any of these people around him. Now, he was able to enjoy his music in peace, the white wire connecting the buds hitting his chest as he moved. 
Harry had a system with the way he worked. He wanted to finish as fast as possible, and not waste any more energy than he had to. He tried to organize his boxes as much as he could on the cart before he was stocking each line of product as quickly as he could, extras being cast aside until he could make a trip to the back room. It was all a system, something he planned out without even thinking. If not for the fading ache in his shoulders and knees he would feel at the end of his shift, he wouldn't even really remember his movements. 
Given this focus, there wasn't much that could distract Harry as he worked. His goal was to finish as fast as possible and move onto something else to fill his mundane nights, not to linger on the guests of the grocery store or fill the silence with small talk he didn't care about. There was a reason he gravitated towards the operations side of this job and not the customer service aspects.
That's why he didn't give it much of a thought when he saw a pastel streak flash in the corner of his eye. He continued doing his job, organizing his box some, as he filtered through the packages of biscuits and sweet crackers, soft sleeves of cookies, and bags of other products. It wasn't until the pastel streak drew closer did he instinctively glance in its direction. 
Her back was to him as she held her gaze upwards. She was scanning the shelves, this woman, complete with an overlarge cream sweater and a peach colored bow in her hair that shone in the light like the velvet fuzz of the color's namesake. One of the grocery store's signature maroon baskets was at her side, the handles tucked in her elbow. There was barely anything in her basket, but that isn't what had Harry's brows knitting in the middle by the time he stitched his attention back on his work. 
It was way too late for anyone to be doing any menial shopping in his opinion, especially not a girl who looked as if she might deem throwing flower petals in the face of an attacker to be sufficient self-defense. But, that wasn't his business, he reminded himself. It didn't help soothe the tears in his mental health to imagine the worst possible scenarios starring those around him. 
A centering breath was sucked in through his nose as he flicked the switch in his brain that had him thinking only of his body's movements. He curled around himself, stepping out of the way as much as possible so the pastel-peach girl could go about her business and disturb Harry as little as possible. The less approachable he looked, the less he'd be approached. 
He didn't know if she wandered that aisle for the next couple of minutes or traced down the shelves on the other side before coming back, but that telltale shift in the air around him told him she was now behind him. The static told him she was right there, at his back. 
Harry didn't acknowledge her presence, instead making it clear he was working and didn't want to be disturbed. He hoped she could see the wire of his headphones that much clearer against his dark shirt. He wasn't inviting her presence; if she needed help, Brett and Fawn were just a couple of aisles down and much more friendly. 
As with some attempts at camouflage, it didn't work in Harry's favor. Some people didn't always see what was clearly in front of them, he knew that. 
A small hand, complete with pearl polished nails and skin smelling of something sweet like honey and the savory bite of herbs, landed on the crook of his elbow. "Excuse me?" her voice leaked through his headphones. 
With a tick appearing in his jaw and a pace of breathing he was sure looked just as forced as it was, Harry halted his work with a sleeve of graham crackers in his hand. His features felt stiff when he turned towards this girl. 
He spoke as he twisted in his spot with a hand yanking his headphones out of his ears, her touch falling from his arm just as quickly. "What?"
When Harry's gaze brushed over her, cataloguing details to add to the pastel streak he had thought her to be before, the same attention that went into his work was now employed in keeping his features stoic and muscles hard. This woman... was very pretty. 
Her cream sweater he had seen from behind was actually a cardigan, buttoned loosely over her torso with a pale peach top underneath. The buttons were pearls, matching the shifting light that characterized the varnish on her nails. Her jeans were high waisted, ripped in places that lead to a pair of pristine white tennis shoes, complete with a set of pink laces threaded over the tongue. The bow held back pieces of hair that would have normally fallen around her face, leaving small strands fluttered as if matching the tendrils of her bow that drifted down her back. 
In the time he was trying to figure out who was standing right in front of him, she blinked at his harsh tone, almost recoiling as if she'd been struck. Her hands became a bundle at her middle as he squirmed under his gaze. Harry swallowed harshly. 
"Sorry to bother you," she started, recovering some with a short smile on her lips, "I was just wondering... God, this sounds so much more dumb out loud than I thought it would." She cut herself off with a soft laugh, dropping her gaze from his to settle on the cardboard box on his cart. "Do you have any of those white chocolate raspberry cookies that come in the bag in your box? The soft ones?" she tired again, shuffling her toes against the linoleum, "I didn't see any on the shelf, so I was hoping you might have some in one of your boxes. They're my favorite so..." 
Harry wanted to be annoyed, he really did. There were hundreds of less offensive situations he'd been in that bothered him more than he knew his mother would be proud of him for, but this just couldn't be added to the list. And that annoyed him. Though, there was something in him that felt a bit contented knowing that there was still a heart buried somewhere inside of him that wouldn't allow him to get upset at someone like her. 
"Let me look." His voice was gruff as he brushed a knuckle under his nose. 
He knew exactly what she was looking for, the packaging coming to mind. He liked this brand too, though he rarely ever felt as if he could spare the cash to indulge. He'd never tried the raspberry variation, though. 
Working stiffly, he rifled through the box until he found the bottom layer of product. A white, rustic looking bag was tucked in a corner. The brand name stylized as if it were embedded on a wooden board was printed on the white bag, with the name of the cookies and the variation underneath. 
White chocolate chunks with bites of real raspberry in a soft cookie. 
That's the one. 
Fishing it out, Harry unceremoniously presented it to her. He made a point to keep his eyes from lingering on her for too long. He needed to keep his clear head. 
"This one?" 
She lit up in a way Harry couldn't ignore. Her eyes had to have been holding glitter behind her irises the way the color brightened, matching her smile. Creases appeared around the corners of her eyes, soft lips stretched and complemented with laugh lines. 
"Yes, yes, those ones!" she chattered off, reaching out to take the bag from him. 
Harry shoved the crinkling bag into her grasp, watching as she stumbled back some before placing it in her basket among what he could now see was a bundle of rosemary and a package of noodles. Nonetheless, her smile didn't falter as she turned towards him again.
"Thank you..." she trailed off, her gaze dropping to his chest where a name tag was pinned to the breast, "Harry." 
There was a lag in between the second he heard her voice wrap around his name and the beats of Harry's heart resuming at a rapid pace. His throat went dry for a moment, something he couldn't believe was happening to him over something like this. When was the last time someone learned his name just because they wanted to know him? 
He swallowed that line of questioning down as soon as it popped up. "Um, yeah," he told her, turning back to his box as soon as he had the words out. 
His headphones he had dangling in his grasp were replaced in his ears, his music still playing on, a different song now filtering than the one that had been when he ripped them out. Harry pushed his objective to the forefront of his mind, leaving little space to keep up with the way his stomach tightened hearing this girl's voice saying his name. He didn't want to focus on the fact he could still feel her presence for a moment after he had dismissed her. He wasn't going to let any of this fluster him—or whatever it was that could happen to a person who barely had any feelings left. 
Calculating his movements was the only viable distraction until he could feel that static of her presence flitter away. It was only then that he dared to indulge himself in a short glance aimed in her direction. He caught the barest view of her wobbly bow and the edge of her loose cardigan before she disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone once more. 
He was going to forget her, Harry decided. Whatever reaction he just had, wasn't going to happen again. 
—————
Gazing down at his hands, Harry only saw red. It wasn't his blood that tainted his skin, but there was a pain in his body that made him want to argue that there was no way he wasn't injured. From somewhere far—but not far enough—away, a crashing sound rumbled through the warehouse. He felt his bones vibrate and his head go fuzzy. More blood dripped from his skin. 
Another crash sounded, this time much closer to where Harry couldn't move his feet. It was as if he were bolted to the spot. More blood, more scars. 
From the corner of his eye, he saw someone. They were walking with a purpose, heavy on their feet. 
His hands still shook even when he took his eyes off of the thick crimson dripping from his fingers. The person coming towards him looked familiar. Too familiar. 
The second they were close enough, Harry recognized that it was himself. There was a gun in the clone's hand, the barrel pointed right at his head. 
Another loud crash.
Harry woke with a start, rocketing up in bed. His breathing was heavy, thick and humid, with his hands shaking where they were clutching the thin bedding askew over his form. There was a sheen of cold sweat covering his body, his hair clinging to the back of his neck.
Looking at his hands, untangling from the bedding, Harry felt his heart rate go down a notch when he no longer saw blood coating the appendages. His vision still blurred at the edges as he came down, his lips mouthing a mantra he wanted so badly to believe: 
It's not real, it's just a dream. It's not real, it's just a dream. It's not real, it's just a dream.
He didn't live that life anymore, he reminded himself. That was a part of his past, but it's all over now. Those scars would never reopen and his hands would never be stained that way again. He would make sure of that. 
As he talked himself down, the rest of his apartment came back into view. The edges of his vision sharpened, showing him the rest of his full bed, rumpled sheets, and the book he had dropped when he finally managed to fall asleep in the middle of a passage. He busied his hands as fixed his book, righting the bent cover and smoothing back the crease that folded into the page he left on. With that sweat on his bare chest and thin comforter falling to his lap, he realized just how cold his apartment was.
Taking a deep breath, his lungs shuddering as he fought to regulate the pacing he lost in his sleep, he swung his legs over the side of his bed. He worked slowly as he replaced his book back to his rightful slot underneath his bed. Lethargy weighed down his limbs as he searched for his phone somewhere on the floor as he sat with his legs crossed underneath his bottom, the scratch of the carpet dragging across his ankles from where his pants rode up grounding him. 
The screen of his phone was far too bright when he powered it up, the time being of no surprise to him even if he was disappointed. He only got a few hours of sleep before that dream woke him up into the real world, plenty of time left before he should begin getting ready to go to work. 
This was how it always was for the past handful of years. Harry was lucky to have slept at all really, as some days he wasn't that fortunate, but there was no way he was going to be able to drift off again. But, he'd gotten rather good at finding ways to fill his time. 
Standing on wobbly legs, Harry took his time stripping his bed. There was time to get through some laundry, he figured, hauling both his bedding as well as his full hamper to the rickety washer and dryer stationed in the hall closet. 
Every movement was a distraction: separating the colors of his clothing, the measuring of the detergent, and the three times he had to set the cycle before the machine finally came to life all did their part to keep him from obsessively staring at his hands as if they would do something bad if he wasn't watching. It was routine the way he didn't allow himself to dwell on the dreams he could no longer forget like he could when they first started sporadically. 
Harry felt like a shadow as the hours passed, even after a cold shower shocked his nerves and a bland meal had warmed his stomach. But, at least he was awake. 
—————
Watching his hands as he stocked and stocked the shelves in front of him, more and more of himself came back to Harry. This was the perk of the more manual of jobs he had. He could use his body and keep track of every movement he made, every stretch of his muscles coming from his own volition. 
It felt like a ritual the way a pastel flash struck the corner of his vision. 
It'd been almost a month since the first time he'd seen her, and she made more trips with a basket tucked into the crook of her elbow than he had seen most other patrons. Maybe he only noticed her now that he recognized her and the phantom ache that touched the muscles of his stomach every time he saw her wander close to him. Nonetheless, he saw her more often than not, barely anything in her basket but small items and snacks, never once with a full shopping cart or a list in hand. 
In an odd way, he'd almost begun to expect her—look for her. It was a part of his shift to see her drifting through the aisles in something comfortable, a ribbon in her hair, and that ever-present smile on her face. He'd never admit that though, even to himself. 
Instead, when he saw her drift into his aisle—the frozen meal section tonight—he kept to himself. Harry didn't even bother to look up at her for more than a glance, even when he paused his music as he listened to her footsteps padding over the floor. Just like she always did since the first night she went out of her way to read his name tag, she offered him a soft smile of recognition as she passed by. Even though Harry hadn't reciprocated a single one. 
Just like that, she kept moving, Harry's ear trained to hear her pad off until he couldn't distinguish her footsteps against any of the other noises filtering through the grocery store. He played his music again then, allowing something else to fill his head before she could wiggle her way inside. 
Though he would rather not acknowledge it, there was something about the fact that the haunted feeling that had clung to him since his nightmare earlier in the day, finally began to dissolve. That turning in his stomach every time he saw one of the thin scars of his hands turned into the residual flaps of a butterfly's wings, even if he didn't dare give the feeling a name or even think of the cause. 
Despite the fact there was something loose in his muscles now as he worked, his head a little bit more clear with that dream tied up in a peachy bow in the back of his mind, Harry was going to ignore it all just as he had every time he saw that girl. 
—————
"Thank you, Harry!" 
The bow girl's chirping gratitude only had Harry looking at her stiffly with a grumbled Yeah falling from his lips. Just as she had done the last couple of months since she made herself a presence during his shifts, she simply gave him a smile before bouncing away with her basket only containing a carton of banana milk and her favorite cookies. She was no longer perturbed by the standoffish responses he gave her. Harry couldn't decide if he liked that or not. 
It was like this at least a couple of times a week. She never did a big shop, only stopping by at later times to pick up individual ingredients for a dinner she had chatted to him about, or little snacks she couldn't seem to go a day without. During at least one of her trips, she found an excuse to talk to Harry; she asked him about his day if she was close enough to feel comfortable starting a question (Harry never gave her a good answer, honestly), she told him about her own day and what she was shopping for if there was anything specific she had in mind. She almost always had a bow pinned to her hair, fluttering behind her and matching whatever soft piece of clothing she had cinched around her form. Harry had even begun fishing out a pack of her favorite cookies from his boxes if he was stocking that aisle, just to make it easy if she came in and asked him for assistance. It made the interactions quicker and less bothersome—at least that's what he told himself. 
He knew more about her and her routines than he had any of the hundreds of people he'd met in the last handful of years since he started moving around. Even if that did make him feel a bit guilty knowing that she didn't have a clue about who exactly she was sharing these parts of herself with; she didn't know the mess she was tiptoeing around every time she interacted with him. 
Tonight was no different, her leaving a rattling in Harry's bones that he wanted nothing more than to ignore like every other part of his life. If he was superstitious, he would think she could have cast some kind of spell on him with the way she and her little bows lingered in his brain long after she had checked out and gone on her way home. 
That rattling followed him as he made his way into the backroom, his empty box needing to be replaced. An exasperated sigh fought to leave his chest when he saw almost half of the overnight team huddled in the area, puttering about as they chattered and pretended to work. He didn't like being roped into their conversations, and that almost always happened when he ran into more than two of them at once. 
Harry didn't say a word as he broke down the cardboard box on his cart, pushing it off to the pile of the other flattened boxes before he reached for another. The conversations had quieted some when he walked in, but he could still hear what sounded like Brett and Fawn flirting in the back corner with a cart of refrigerated items that needed to go on the opposite end of the store, and Theo talking to two of the other guys that Harry hadn't bothered to remember the names of. 
"Busy night, huh, Harry?" Theo started, dropping whatever topic he had been rambling to his friends about just a moment before. 
"Yeah," Harry answered, voice stiff. It wasn't any more busy than any other night as far as he was concerned. Besides, he had other things he needed to worry about than to be making conversation with a coworker he barely knew. There was still a peach colored ribbon tying his stomach in tiny knots that he needed to fix. 
Soon enough, a silence fell through the backroom when the others made their way out. Only Harry and Theo were left, Harry doing his part to semi-organize his chosen box before heading out on the floor again. 
Maybe it was the rattling in his bones, or the vision of a peach colored bow that he saw every time he blinked, but something in Harry felt a little reckless when he peeked over at Theo focusing on his own box. 
"That girl," Harry rumbled, feeling odd in his skin as he spoke, "The one with the bows in her hair... She comes in a lot." 
Theo looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes wide with furrowed brows as he looked in Harry's direction. He even glanced over his shoulder as if there were anyone else there for the conversation to be aimed at. Harry had to keep from scoffing, dropping his gaze back to his working hands. 
Floundering over his words, Theo tried to catch up once he realized Harry was voluntarily talking. "Um, the—uh—the one with bows in her hair?" 
Harry hummed in response. "She's in a couple of times a week." 
"Ohhh," Theo sounded, familiarity touching his tone, "You mean (Y/N)?" 
Harry swallowed at the sound of her name. He'd never asked for it himself. "If that's her name." 
From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Theo nodding his head. "She comes in a lot, yeah. She's not good at keeping a list and always forgets stuff if she tries to do big shops, so she just comes in when she wants something or runs out." 
Though he didn't want this information to mean something to him, Harry felt a part of himself slowly being fulfilled the more details he learned. She didn't tell him these kinds of things when she rambled about her dinner choice for the night. 
Keeping his gaze tacked to his hands, Harry kept his words measured and calculated. "Oh," he started, "Is she from here?" 
"She's lived here forever, yeah. Why?" 
A beat passed as Harry opted to ignore the second part of Theo's response. He didn't need to have any details as to why Harry was asking after someone after working together for five months with only a handful of interactions. Even if he did want to share that, Harry didn't have any real answers to that why, anyway. 
"Does she... What does she do?" Harry asked, the phrasing of his words feeling awkward falling out of his mouth. He was lucky he was so used to shielding his emotions and staying stoic, otherwise he would have cringed where he stood. 
"Like for work?" Theo asked, his eyes warm on Harry's profile. 
Lifting his shoulders, Harry only shrugged in response. It was probably a good idea to keep his mouth shut. 
"She—uh—she works at the bakery over on Windsor. She and my sister work there together," Theo told him, acting as if Harry was supposed to know what bakery he was talking about and who his sister was. "(Y/N)'s pretty nice, though." 
"Right," was all Harry offered by the time he finished organizing his box. He didn't bother to give anything more in response or wait for Theo to elaborate before he was walking out on the floor again. Even when he could feel Theo's eyes stuck to his back.
No doubt would this interaction make its way to the rest of the team before the end of the shift. 
It was harmless curiosity, Harry argued. He just had to believe the harmless part. 
—————
It's funny the kinds of things that happened in the day that then were transported and highlighted in a dream. Stranger's faces, odd conversations, a passing thought, things that normally wouldn't have been catalogued at all by a waking brain but were held tightly in the middle of sleep. 
Despite the fact Harry made it home from work at three in the morning, he still ended up waking in the early morning after a lingering dream. He didn't remember much about the scene the longer he was awake, but he knew there were swaying bows in pretty hair. A soft voice could have been there too, along with a subtle smile, but he couldn't remember. All because he had seen those ribbons and heard that voice the night before. 
For a split second, when he was surfacing from sleep, he wanted so badly to just roll over and continue whatever play was running in the back of his mind. But, sleep didn't come easy for him; he'd have to take whatever small amount of hours his body allowed him and be grateful. 
That left Harry to lay in his bed and stare at the ceiling above him, peeks of sunshine beginning to filter through the heavy drapes on his single window. He pretended as if he wasn't waiting for flashes of the dream to come back to him, even as he reluctantly found his footing in the real world. 
He was off work for the next two days. Forty-eight hours he would have to fill with the kinds of tasks he dreaded almost as much as actually reporting in for a shift. 
Grocery shopping was at the top of the to-do list as well as the hated tasks list. He hated going into his work on his day off just so he could shop the canned food aisles and dodge small talk from the dayshift coworkers that pretended as if they had met him more than once during his training shifts. A trip to the library was due as well, his borrowed books packed away under his bed and read from cover to cover in the week since he'd last visited the building. There was also always cleaning and laundry to be done, more things to keep him busy before he would undoubtedly retire to his bed for the rest of the day and read as much as he could to keep his brain from going to mush. 
Harry sighed at the day's agenda. This was the life he wanted, though, so he was going to appreciate every day of the boring tasks and the mundane dredge. 
By the time he had a load of laundry running in his machine and his hands buried in the sink, doing dishes he put off until his weekend, Harry's mind was already wandering somewhere outside of his apartment. 
Theo had been complaining last night towards the end of the shift about how his sister needed him to pick her up from work today. She was opening and had stayed the night at her boyfriend's before, but he wouldn't be able to drop her off and pick her up. That left Theo to take up the job in exchange for gas money and whatever treats his sister could sneak from the bakery. Theo kept droning on about how since it was Sunday, the bakery opened up early, leaving him to have to fight to stay awake after going home so he wouldn't miss picking up his sister. 
Throughout all of the petty complaining and meaningless rambling, the only thing that stuck out to Harry was the hours of this bakery being narrowed down. He didn't mean to pay attention, not now after knowing who else worked there, but it was just another one of those things that stuck in his brain like a dreamy detail. 
An early opening could mean that his bow girl—(Y/N)—might be there as well. 
Harry's hands flexed under the soapy water. It wouldn't be such a bad thing to go to a bakery on a Sunday morning. No one would think anything of it—and neither should he. He liked pastries as much as the next person. Even if trying out one of the town's baked goods wasn't necessarily his goal for the outing didn't mean that it would be a bad idea. He had more self-control than most people—a bit of indulgence wouldn't break him. 
Before he could get too far ahead of himself, Harry focused on washing the dishes in the sink. He laid each piece gently out on the tea towel flattened out beside the sink, taking extra care as if his slow pace could prove that he still had all that control he was boasting about. If he was really on the edge of breaking—about to make a bad decision—he wouldn't be so in control, he argued. He even waited for the load of laundry to make that erratic beeping noise that notified him that he could trade into the dryer. 
Still clad in only a pair of sweats that acted as his pajamas, Harry lazily reached for his phone before looking at the time. Just before nine a.m. According the Theo, the bakery opened at eight in the morning today, right when he was picking up his sister after her early morning shift. Harry held onto that air of nonchalance as he looked up the open confectionaries around him, finding a link at the top of the page for The Flour Pot. 
They were marked as open, hours laid out on the same popup. Only a handful of miles away from the grocery store and on the same block as his library. It wouldn't take him longer than fifteen minutes to get there. He could even stop by the library on his way back or do his grocery shopping. 
There, he cemented. That just proved this whole thing wasn't just to see a fluttering bow or hear a soft voice. He had other things he needed to do, and after hearing so much about this bakery, he could try it out while he was in town. 
With his laundry rumbling in the dryer and his dishes laid out to dry on the counter, Harry changed out of his sweats and threw on a hoodie to keep him warm against the chill in the morning air. He tucked his library books under his arm and started out the door, locking up behind him just like any other day. 
Just as he figured, he was back in town in less than twenty-minutes, the directions on his phone taking him just a few buildings down from the library. With the early hour, he couldn't see the bakery being especially busy, but when he found a parking spot across the street from the building, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. 
Through the lit windows, he saw a line inside. Morning sunshine kept the glass especially translucent, even through the decals pasted to the panes boasting the bakery's name and pots of leafy plants to play on the pun of the title. He could spot glimpses of patrons lounging in the few tables provided while others were waiting in line, the queue long enough to have others shuffling aside when the door behind them swung open. 
Harry's heartbeat quickened at the sight. He never liked being where so many people were crowded. It was hard to keep track of so many and what they were doing and saying when they were packed in a tight space. He thought—hoped—that with the early time he'd be beating out the crowds. 
Taking a deep breath, Harry reminded himself that there was no harm in having more than ten people in one space. This was something he needed to work on anyway—something he was working on. There was no point to becoming so nervous over something like this. The odds of someone recognizing him or something out of his control happening were slim to none. 
The whole point in leaving those years ago was to have a normal life. This was part of that. 
Before he could dwell on the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, Harry swung open his door. He planted his feet on the solid ground, stuffed his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, and trekked on. 
Keeping his eyes on his feet as he walked, Harry didn't look up until the entrance to the bakery was right in front of him. He had his phone gripped in one hand, prepared to pull it out and fiddle with it in an attempt to sate his nerves, while the other reached out for the golden handle embedded in the glass and wood door. 
One peek through the crystal had his hand falling from the handle. 
Behind the counter was (Y/N). 
She had her back to the door, but he knew that bow. She'd worn it before. He knew that silken pearl color, the slightly lopsided loops, the fabric nestled in with the mess of hair on the top of her head. He knew that if she turned around, even spared a glance over her shoulder, what kind of smile would be painted over her features and the soft set of her features that was practically her trademark. He wanted her to turn around just so he could compare that smile to the ghost of the one in his dreams
It's the fluttering in his stomach and the pacing of his heart behind the cage of his ribs that had Harry turning around. He didn't care if anyone saw his reaction, if anyone noted just how weird the whole moment was. He wasn't able to make those extra steps to go inside. 
He shouldn't be that happy to see her. That wasn't the kind of reaction someone in control would have. That only showed him the kind of weaknesses the walls around him had, the bits of crumbling stone that he was going to have to solidify before he could boast about all of his self-control. 
This was the reason he never allowed himself to grow attached to anyone. The fact that she was the only person in five years to even bother attempting to penetrate those stone walls should have no bearing on how he conducted himself. He knew better than to let her soft smiles and fluttering bows and gentle conversations get to him. He was the one who knew better in this situation; (Y/N) didn't know what kind of person she was offering those niceties to, and it would be wrong of him to accept and even seek them out. 
She didn't deserve what could happen if he let this loss of control continue. 
Slamming his car door shut behind him with a reverberating rattle of the frame, Harry vowed that whatever had caused that flutter in his stomach and the clench of his heart would stop now. He can't feel that way about anyone or anything. He was taking back control now. 
With his hands tight around the steering wheel and the thought of the bakery wiped from his mind, Harry hoped he never dreamt of bows again. 
—————
Harry pretended as if he couldn't hear the conversation happening at the end of the aisle from him, a couple loudly wondering where they could find the artisanal bread. He didn't want to help them. 
This was why he hated coming in any earlier than the call time for his overnight shifts. Even with the fact he was only covering a couple of extra hours—coming in at six instead of eight—the difference in clientele was too stark for his comfort. It was too early in the night even to justify sticking in his headphones and drowning out the noise of others. 
Instead, he hoped that the slight frown on his features and the furrow in his brows would be enough to warn people away from him as he continued his stocking of the soup and other canned goods he was tasked with for the time being. The outfacing shelf gave him the advantage of leaving his back facing most of the customers that walked through, though he made a point to drift away whenever a patron stalked a little too close to his personal space. 
Despite it all, a part of Harry was grateful for the distraction of work and the extra people around him. That was why he had been picking up hours here and there throughout the week. Anything to keep his brain busy since he had recoiled from the bakery a week ago. 
He'd done a good job in his opinion, of keeping (Y/N) and all of the bows in her hair off of his mind. His resolve was being rebuilt brick by brick, reminders swirling in his brain of why he's never experienced those kinds of butterflies and the anticipation in his heart before. He wasn't the kind of person that needed that kind of feeling—deserved that overflowing of joy in his veins. He kept himself tucked away for a reason, and he needed to remember that. 
His shifts no longer held a current of anticipation, waiting to see if this would be the night she would wander on by, sparing him a smile and a breath of her attention. Her place in his brain had been corralled to a back corner that he was adamant on keeping the barriers to steady and clean. 
That was why when he saw a pair of white sneakers with pink shoelaces threaded through, he pretended as if his brain didn't go to one person immediately. It could be anyone in the world—should be anyone else. He shouldn't be able to recognize her from such a minute detail, but there was already that beat against the ladder of his ribs that told him everything he needed to know about how poorly he had maintained that corral in the back of his mind. 
With a tick in his jaw, Harry reminded himself of his resolve. He kept his focus on his cart, taking more time to dig around while he waited for those shoes to disappear from the corner of his eye. 
Of course, he couldn't be so lucky. 
"Harry?" that soft voice asked him. 
A slow breath was sucked in through his nose as he stood to the full of his height. He turned to find her looking at him with those eyes he could only remember glimpses of from the haze of his dream. Her face was clean from makeup, hair twisted back into a clip as she had forgone a bow for the day. Comfortable clothes adorned her body, slouching and stretching with pastel hues stitched through her top and flowers adorning her leggings. In her hands, nails sparkling with a pearly white polish, she had a solid block of cheese. 
Harry didn't bother to offer a response. (Y/N) was used to it by this point, though. 
"Do you know if this is any good?" she started, emphasizing the cheese with a flick of her wrist, "I googled a recipe for a grilled cheese today, and it wants this kind of cheese, but... I don't know. I just want to make sure I'll like it before I buy it, and all. Have you tried it before?" 
If Harry could draw his eyes away from the dewy planes of her face and the glimmering sheen of her eyes, he might have been able to read the label on the block she had in her hand, but that didn't seem to be an option his body was willing to follow. 
He knew he had been following the line of her nose and pillows of her cupid's bow for a beat too long when she tipped her head, a crease appearing in-between her brows. Clearing his throat, he dropped his gaze from her eyes to fall in the neckline of her top. He schooled his features, keeping himself in line as he brushed the tip of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger. 
Skimming his gaze over the white cheese in her hand, he shrugged some. "Um, probably," he mumbled, voice a rumble.
That glimmer in her eyes flashed to amusement. "You've probably tried it before?" 
Under layers of the stoic front he put up, Harry could feel himself cringe. He knew he wasn't giving her a smart answer, but he didn't anticipate sounding that stupid. 
Again, he shrugged. That was as much of an answer as he could formulate at the moment. 
That same part of him that cringed at the lame answer he gave her, curled in on itself when he saw for the first time, (Y/N) grow crestfallen. She had always been very stubborn in her sunny disposition, only having been taken aback the first time they had met. Other than that, no matter how much of a downer he acted, there seemed to be a smile on her face she didn't mind offering to him, even if he didn't deserve it. 
This time, he watched her brows pinch in the middle, her smile falling some to leave a barely there, lopsided curl that didn't reach her eyes. She dropped her gaze down to the block in her hand. Even her body seemed to shrink under his gaze, drawing her limbs close to her body in a recoil. 
"Well, thanks anyway," she got out, the tone the same chirping pitch as usual, but there was no current. Nothing authentic sat beneath. 
He watched as she lingered for a moment longer, her eyes attached to the label pasted to the cling wrap fitted around the cheese, before she began to head in the other direction. He'd never seen her so dejected before, even if she was only matching the energy he constantly gave her. 
Guilt pooled in his stomach. It wasn't a nice feeling to see a light like her's becoming extinguished, especially from his own hand. 
Before she could trail too far away, he peered over her hand and read over the label attached to her cheese. He recognized the French name from when he would help his mother in the kitchen. He knew this as one of the ingredients she would use for her macaroni and cheese; shredded and added to a pot to melt before being added to the spirals of noodles. He remembered how his main job when he was too young to properly help was to stir the cheese sauce, his eyes following the swirls and strings tracing through the cream. 
Harry wasn't even aware he was taking a step to follow after her until he felt his toe push against the linoleum. "Actually—um," he started, watching as she turned to face him, features lightening, "That's a good cheese. Melts really nice. It'll probably be good for whatever recipe you found." 
Instinctively, he wanted to curl back into his work, give himself a distraction and soothe some of that rattle in his bones. Instead, he forced himself to stay firm in his spot as she made those few short steps back to him. 
(He couldn't help but to feel a bit silly, if he was being honest. All of this over a conversation about cheese. It verged into the territory of ridiculous if he wasn't actually experiencing it). 
"Really? Thank you!" That genuine contentedness he had missed from her voice before was back, lilting and molding her words. "I read that it was good for melting, I just wasn't sure if I should slice it or shred it. The page didn't really tell me much on that." 
Shrugging, Harry pretended to care about the box left on his cart he still needed to sort through and stock. "Shredding is good," he offered, "It melts easier that way, I think." 
(He actually knew that, but he didn't really want to get into the story of the time he had tried to make his comfort meal shortly after he was separated from his mom. He had gone about it all wrong, having sliced it without thinking only to have to go through the too-long process of watching it melt in a puddle of milk. He would have attempted it again after that, but money was especially tight right after he left home and the ingredients for a single meal were too expensive. Besides, it would never taste as good as the one his mother made, and he didn't need to break his heart any more with the attempts).
Decidedly, (Y/N) dropped the block in her sparse basket. "I'll try that tonight and I'll let you know," she told him, the stray tangles of her hair swaying as she spoke, "Thank you, Harry." 
Harry nodded his head, reaching into the cardboard box piled with different soups. "Yeah." 
It was hard to breathe when she heard him say his name with that smile on her face. 
But, (Y/N) didn't leave right away. She lingered for a moment, a step between leaving him behind and staying right there with him. He couldn't decide which outcome he was hoping for. 
A beat later, she swung back to face him. "Have you ever been by the bakery a few blocks over on Windsor Ave?" 
He swallowed. The vision of The Flour Pot immediately came to mind. 
"No, I don't think so." 
(Y/N) looked at him with a smile with shy edges, rocking on the balls of her feet. "Well, we have these cheesy breakfast soufflés that we only make on Friday mornings, that are really good. I bet you'd really like them if you like cheese and stuff." There was a slight wince and a huff of a laugh falling from her lips as (Y/N) finished. 
She must also realize how silly they both sounded, too. Breakfast and cheese, the great unifiers, Harry supposed. 
With the faint amusement bubbling in the back off his mind, Harry still felt something in him catch. Her recommendation felt something like an invitation. An invitation to go somewhere she would assumedly be. 
Harry checked his expectations as he dropped his gaze to his hands, rolling a can of loaded potato soup so the barcode faced him. "I usually work all night Thursdays, so Friday mornings can be a little hard to make when 'm tired." 
That nervous rocking continued even with the bright smile molding (Y/N)'s features. "I work there, so you can let me know when you have time to stop by and I can make sure we have an extra one for you," she told him, hands bundling together at her middle, "Or, just pop by whenever. Everything we have is really good, so." 
Around him, Harry could still hear the annoying couple from before complaining about the layout of the grocery store. The overhead lights were mismatched on this section of the store, leaving some amber spots to combat against the stark fluorescents. There was a buzzing to the left where the refrigerators were keeping the cheese section where she had shopped from cool. But all of his attention was placed a few paces before him. 
Harry spent years pushing people away. Not once had anyone ever been able to wiggle through even one layer of the protective walls he had around him. He made a point of that; it was the way it was supposed to be for everyone's safety. He didn't invite anyone into his life, and no one invited him into theirs. 
Of course the first person to do so would be someone like (Y/N). She would be the one to dare to cross that line, offer a hand out to someone so adamant about not wanting anything of the sort. He knew those butterflies in his stomach were a warning; they were creatures to be heeded, not cradled. 
Despite it all, Harry nodded. He looked at her, leaving his idling hands to play around without him. "I'll see what I can do." 
It was the smile that bloomed across her lips that had Harry remembering that there were flowers that were meant to unfurl in the night. 
"Cool," she said, something giddy replacing that authenticity, "Have a nice night, Harry."
"Have a nice night," he got out before he turned on his heel, pinning his attention straight on the box awaiting him. It was an abrupt ending to the conversation, but he couldn't look at her any longer if he wanted to keep some of his head. She was driving him mad again already. 
When Harry looked up, he found her turning the corner of the aisle. Their eyes matched for a moment when she looked back at him too, a ghost of a smile stretching her cheeks before she was gone. 
Taking in a deep breath, he centered himself. 
Harry can not go to that bakery. 
——————
As much as Harry loved his comfort reads, the volumes that became like classics to him, he couldn't read them all the time. Besides, he liked libraries. 
While every building was different, the librarians with their own rules and nuances that ran the shelves, the spirit was always the same. Even the smallest of towns he travelled to had their own shelves to peruse. The crackle of the covered spines, some old enough to still be sporting checkout cards in the front cover, with pages loved by others, made him feel less alone. The library in this town was no different. 
A quiet librarian manned the front desk or puttered through the shelves, offering Harry a quiet kindness he appreciated more than if she had given attempts to get to know him any more outside of the process of getting his library card. All she wanted to know was what kind of genres he liked so she could recommend books when he came in the more regular he became. He was left to ghost through the shelves, fostering books as he went before returning them home once their time was up. He was able to be comfortable there. 
But, this town had to be mocking him at this point. 
While he's been making a point to keep his head down and focusing on only himself and definitely not (Y/N), old habits die hard. A hefty portion of his life was spent with his eyes sharpened, taking in every detail and every person and every place around him. Even with years away from the circumstances that had him looking over his shoulder with every step he made, he couldn't shake every habit. But those habits made it way too hard to ignore what was going on just down the street from the library. 
The Flour Pot was busy as usual when he stepped out of his car, library books held at his side with his fingers flexing around the plastic covering. A line was trailing out the door with as many people walking out with the brown paper bags or cake boxes as patrons were walking in with hunger in their eyes. Harry could almost hear the bell chiming above the door every time it opened, just like he swore if he listened close enough, he could hear a familiar laugh. 
It took effort for him to keep his eyes ahead of himself, fingers tight around his books. He didn't allow himself to linger on the sidewalk or his gaze to stray, heading directly into the library. 
Harry could feel his features twisted into frustration even as he stepped in the substantially quieter building. But even with his furrowed brow and the tight line of his mouth, Ms. Klarke didn't bat an eye. She had to be used to it at this point. 
A lined smile had her lips stretched, showing off white teeth. "Done with this week's, Mr. Styles?" 
He only nodded with a hum as he approached the desk, dropping the trio of volumes on the glossy wood. It was instinct the way he worked, pulling out his green library card. 
Ms. Klarke worked with familiarity, scanning the code on his card before clicking through his profile. Her eyes didn't move from the computer screen as she spoke, "We got some new books in yesterday. I saved a few that I thought you'd like in the back." 
Perking up at the prospect of the new arrivals, Harry felt his features smoothen out, a light falling into the usual rumble of his voice. "Really?" 
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, a short smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she slid his card back. "Mhm. I'll be right back." 
Taking his returns with her, she stepped into the backroom positioned just behind the front desk only to come back a moment later with another set of books. The volumes were freshly wrapped in the crinkling plastic, the covers still vibrant underneath without any smudging or scratching marring the art. 
"I've heard good things about these," Ms. Klarke said, spreading out the trio on the wood for him to look at. "The descriptions sound like something you would like." 
They were romances—the genre he had divulged to Ms. Klarke all that time ago. He recognized the covers and the authors, having read his own reviews and takes on the literature. Bright colors were splashed across, with the hallmarks of the genre coming in depictions of flowers or the minimalistic art that was becoming the norm. A twitch itched the corner of his lips seeing the pages she saved for him to have first. 
"Thank you," he told her, looking at her through the lashes as he kept his hands at his sides, "I've seen a lot about these, too." 
Ms. Klarke's lined features brightened at his words. "Gonna take them home with you this week?" 
"Yes, please," he answered in a rush, "If that's alright." 
Her brows pinched in the middle, already grabbing the books to scan them onto his profile for the week. "Of course it's alright. I saved them for you for a reason." 
Harry was struck then. He stood, listening to the sounds of her hands clicking the keys on her computer and the beep of the scanner reading the barcodes, his hands shoved deep in his pockets with his fingers clenched in tight curls. 
While Ms. Klarke didn't know really anything about him, she still had him in mind when she read these titles and made a point to save them off for him. She only knew him as far as the kind of literature he liked to spend his time with and the kind of care he treated each book with, but she knew him enough to trust him with these new reads. 
She knew him enough. 
He forgot what it felt like to be known. He missed the feeling of being known. Even if it was his fault that he was pushed into that forgotten corner in the first place. His impact wasn't supposed to be felt, even if he still felt the absence of the familiarity he had in a past life. 
Two people now, in this town, had given Harry more than a passing thought. 
The feeling was overwhelming. 
"Thank you," he repeated when Ms. Klarke passed back his books for the week, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 
With his books in hand, he exited out onto the sidewalk. Down the block he could still hear the faint commotion from the bakery, but his stomach didn't sour like it had only ten minutes prior. In that kitschy shop was the one other person who was trying to know him, even when he insisted on being alone. 
The thought of walking in didn't sound so bad, even if he still kept on his path to his car. 
—————
Harry had a plan. 
Days after visiting the library, he had been tucked away in bed reading one of his new books when he couldn't get his mind off of (Y/N). The main female character was a baker with a softened heart, a bubbly demeanor shining through. Given the nature of the book, every peek into her heart was romanticized, especially in the first handful of chapters he was still working through. He couldn't help but to picture (Y/N) the more he read, disregarding whatever physical description the character was given. 
She hadn't left his mind since. 
Maybe it was the fact there was a scene written where the lead male character visited the pseudo-(Y/N) at the patisserie she worked at, but there was a niggling thought in the back of his mind that it might not be such a bad thing to take up her invitation from the week prior. While he was nothing like male lead—not in demeanor nor backstory—, he couldn't ignore the want he had for a moment like the one inked across the page. 
It felt entirely reckless to give into that want, the kind of idea that would come to him after too many hours spent awake and too many romance cliches floating through his thoughts, but he'd done worse. Indulging in the pattering butterflies and bruising beats of his heart would land at the bottom of the list of the most dastardly things he'd ever done.
Besides, if this Sunday morning was anything like the last, it wasn't like there would even be enough time for his defenses to weaken enough for an impact to be made. If anything, he would see her in passing, the flutter of the bow in her hair as she bustled through the shop, and that would be it. Maybe a smile in his direction, but he couldn't imagine any more being spared for him. 
He didn't need anything more than that, anyway. 
Harry would be careful. Butterflies weren't strong enough to break stone.
—————
His hands were clenched into fists in the pockets of his coat, the sign to The Flour Pot gleaming on the glass window from the corner of his eye. Though he knew well that there were just enough patrons inside to create a hustle within the shop, Harry kept his resolve strong as he stepped over the pavement. He didn't skip sleep for the last handful of hours since his shift ended just to run home without even taking a single step inside. 
Slipping inside, Harry forced his gaze to lift from his feet, a deep breath filling his lungs. Those small tables he had spotted from the windows were twisted wrought iron, the backs outlined with intricate shapes of flowers, hummingbirds, and shining suns. Cushions padded the seats of the chairs, a charming combination of mismatched patterns that all seemed to work together to make the space that much cozier. Customers Harry could recognize as some of the people he saw at the grocery store were littered about, though they looked decidedly much cheerier in this environment. Even with the chill in the air, hints of spring lingered within the confines of the shop. 
Butter and sugar kissed the air, twining with notes of lingering herbs and spices, different ingredients that made up the confections filling the display case up front. Tiny lights were embedded in the trim, shining right on the flaky crusts of croissants, glimmering glazes on sticky buns, and the golden skin of homemade baguettes. More intricate cakes and laborious treats were held in glass cabinets behind the desk. Warm wood made up the front cash register area, the grains twisting and curving in the way only real wood could. Hanging from the ceiling behind the desk was the menu with every treat laid out and priced, twirling descriptions following just underneath with every add-on available. A note on the bottom recommended talking to the bakers about seasonal specials and their favorite combinations. 
Everything looked new but second-hand at the same time. Harry didn't know what to compare the space to other than a home opened up for visitors. The treats in the case were just a bonus of being invited into such a home. 
The flapping of the cafe doors leading to the back caught his attention, pulling his gaze from tracing over the space that felt as if it lived within candlelight. (Y/N) emerged from what he assumed to be the kitchen, a pan in hand full of something golden brown and filled with herbs. She dropped that pan onto the back counter before disappearing again, a pearly gold bow pulling her hair back. Her uniform consisted of a long sleeved brown top with The Flour Pot printed in yellow lettering as if the words were dripping in honey. He felt like a moth the way his eyes followed each of her moves, her being the flame he didn't want to lose track of. 
That smile he pretended to not care about had her lips stretched with smile lines bracketing the curl. He watched on as she spoke to the dark-haired girl and the shorter boy working behind the counter, nodding her head with the tendrils of her bow going flying before she seemed to count out certain items in the case all before leaving to the back once more. In her hands, another pan reemerged with her.
As his eyes followed her, he was grateful for the first time for the amount of patrons occupying the building. The line in front of him gave him enough time to watch her—to get his fill to quell the battering ram made of butterflies in his stomach. Even if he wanted to keep his eyes to himself, drop them to his feet or find a blank spot to fix his eyes too, he didn't think he had it in himself. 
With the line moving, Harry shuffled forward a pair of spots. At that same moment, the cafe doors swung open once more, (Y/N)'s arms empty as her eyes scanned across the guests in her shop. She found Harry in an instant, her eyes brightening and smile blooming. She brought her gloved hand up to wiggle her fingers in a quick wave for only him. 
Before he could even lift his hand to wave back, she had sidestepped behind the desk and whispered something to the dark haired woman working the register. A quick conversation played out while Harry watched, (Y/N) whispering while the other woman gave small reactions. The conversation lasted only a couple of beats with the line still waiting before them, (Y/N) disappearing into the back after shooting Harry a look with bright eyes and a wide smile. 
In (Y/N)'s wake, the cashier gave Harry her own look. It was something quiet and knowing, a short curl only on the corner of her lips before she slid her gaze back to the patron waiting in front of her. 
(Y/N) and her bow didn't return again as the line slowly moved forward. Only the dark haired cashier and a shorter boy were working the counter, working as a team with the boy picking the pastries with gloved hands and the woman taking orders and collecting payments. The line dwindled as they worked, guests leaving with small paper bags and smiles wider than the giant muffins that took over the bottom shelf of the case. 
While Harry felt like he could breathe better with every person that exited, it all moved too fast. By the time he reached the counter, Harry's brain was filled with nothing more than a buzz. In all his distractions of watching (Y/N) and being a little too aware of the others around him, not once did he really examine the menu. He didn't have a plan of what he wanted to order, every quick glance at the menu hanging above was more panicked than the last, nothing being absorbed. 
The last patron in front of him worked quickly. The chatter of her voice was almost drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears, her order being rattled off in an instant out of practice before she was stepping off to the side to await her own brown bag of treats. 
Stepping forward to the counter, Harry couldn't help but feel a little silly. The amount of high stress situations he's been in in his life, the kind that warranted the kind of panic and fight-or-flight reaction he could feel himself building to was more than any person should ever go through. But in all of those moments, he remembered moving through them like an expert, not thinking before doing. 
This—ordering from a bakery—was going to be the one thing that broke his brain, it seemed. Figures. 
The dark-haired girl behind the counter held that same guest service smile on her face when Harry approached, only the ends curled that much more when she saw it was him. "Good morning! What can I get you today?" 
Harry's mouth dropped open, words intending to come out before nothing actually did. He barely recovered in the way he instead said, "Ummm." 
From the corner of his eye, the cafe doors to the kitchen swung open. A pan full of stacked baguettes were in (Y/N)'s arms, eyes trained on the pyramid before she chanced a glance up. That same wide grin pulled at her lips the second recognition filled her eyes. 
"Hi, Harry!" she chirped out over her shoulder as she deposited the pan onto the back counter, "How are you?" 
His dry throat finally began to work again when he swallowed, his nervous hands beginning to pluck at his cuticles in the pocket of his hoodie. "'M good, thank you," he mumbled, "You?" 
"I'm doing good, thanks!" She spun on her heel to take over the spot by the register. For a second, he saw the dark-haired girl bump (Y/N)'s hip with her own, before taking over the second station just to the left and tending to the line from there. It was a move that had to have come with a plan. "I wish I knew you were coming in today, I would have made you one of those soufflés I was telling you about." 
"Oh, sorry," he told her, shuffling on his feet as the rest of the line behind him meandered around him to the available register. 
The tail of hair she had pinned back with her bow bounced as she shook her head. "No worries at all! What did you come in for?" 
For the first time since she stepped out, he pulled his eyes from hers to the sign above her head.
Maybe it was the noise around him, the chatter of other guests, the way he was hyperaware of every inch of space around him and how close others were getting to him before hiking left to the other register, or the fact he knew (Y/N) had her eyes on him, but the letters didn't make any sense when he tried to take them in. He knew the words, could associate them with different treats, but there was nothing that connected his thoughts. 
Silence fell from his floundering mouth, the kind that felt too loud in a busy place like this. 
In a second, (Y/N) sidestepped to the case at her right, her eyes bright and still on Harry as she nudged the sliding door to open for her. "My favorite at the moment are the raspberry and almond scones," she bubbled off, using her gloved hand to grab the pastry from the tray, "I just finished a batch, too. They also come with this lemon cream kind of glaze, if you wanted to try it that way." 
Her energy didn't deplete as she spoke, showcasing the scone for him to see. She saved him from the way his throat was beginning to tighten the longer it took for him to come up with an answer. 
Chunks of raspberries were visible in the pale base of the scone, sprinkled with almond slivers. It reminded him of the cookies she so favored at his own place of work. 
"I'll try that," he told her, the even pacing of his breathing returning, "Thank you." 
"Perfect!" she chirped, looking genuinely pleased at his response. Nothing inauthentic touched at her features as she gazed at him. "Do you want the glaze and everything?" 
"Um, sure," he said, a nod of his head throwing a curl over his forehead. 
He saw as (Y/N)'s gaze tripped upwards, trailing along the length of that stray hair brushing the bridge of his nose. A glittering sparkled in her irises. 
The rest of the transaction went quickly, (Y/N) shedding her gloves and taking his cash as she asked about his work. Noncommittal answers were shared from Harry (he barely remembered the shift if he was being honest. His brain had been too fixed on this morning's plan). 
"I'll have that ready for you in a second," she told him, toothy smile and all, "You can wait over there in the meantime." 
A mumbled, kay... fell from his lips as he exhaled a deep breath. He nodded his head before he followed her direction and stepped off to the side. He half expected her to continue helping the line that had dwindled behind him, instead watching as she stepped off the side with his treats in hand. 
Dropping his gaze from her, Harry pulled his hands out of his hoodie to inspect the sore cuticles he could feel beginning to sting with every touch. Spots of blood had spread to the plate of his nails, skin frayed and irritated at all the picking. 
Harry expected to hear his name called when his bag was placed on the pick-up counter just as it had been for every other patron, only to have (Y/N) bounce around the entire case when she had finished puttering behind. The tendrils of her bow flowed behind her, skimming the length of her hair before she stopped in front of him.
For someone who didn't like mornings that much, she smiled a lot. 
"Here you go," she beamed at him, offering him the small paper bag with the business's logo inked on the front. Beside the picture was his own name written in looping script, a smiling heart printed beside it. "You have to tell me what you think the next time I see you, okay? These really are my favorites, so if you don't like them I don't know if we'll be able to be friends anymore." 
A breath of air caught in Harry's throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to swallow it down. Anymore, she had said.
"Got it," he forced out, taking the bag from her hand with their fingers barely brushing as he slipped his own under the handles, "Thank you, (Y/N)." 
At the sound of his voice wrapped around her name, her smile only widened. "Of course. I'll see you around, Harry." 
Before he could get too far ahead of himself, the indulgent butterflies in his stomach urging him to linger longer than he knew would be good for him, Harry spun on his heel and moved to the exit. He swore he could feel (Y/N)'s eyes on him up until he disappeared through the doors. 
There wasn't a thought in his head other than getting back to the safety of his car as he rushed over the pavement, loose rocks in the old concrete kicking up in his wake. The slam of his car door behind him left the cab going still. The air was silent finally, leaving him sealed away with the ticking of his heart evening out. 
Instinctively he locked his doors before reaching for his seatbelt. In that split second he seemed to forget the bag in his hand until he felt the warmth of the pastry in his lap. 
He hesitated. 
It would probably be best to eat it now while it was still warm, he decided. 
In his parked car across from the rush of The Flour Pot, Harry carefully extracted his treat. His fingers brushed a slip of paper clinging to the side of the bag, the end trapped under the cup containing the lemon cream she boasted to him about. Laying the boxed treat on the center console, Harry plucked out the slip of paper. 
It was a length of blank receipt paper, only to turn the page around and find that same looping writing that printed his name on the bag. 
Come by next Sunday and I'll have a souffle for you :) 
(Y/N)'s name was signed at the bottom, another smiling heart drawn beside the final letter. Another invitation.
Harry didn't need to take a bite of the scone to know that it was going to be his favorite too.
—————
Maybe he had been too giddy to see her again after those moments at the bakery, but Harry couldn't help but notice her the second (Y/N) walked through the glass doors. 
It was as if he had it all planned the way he had been stationed in the herb and spices section of the store tonight, an aisle that was conveniently situated by the entrance. He had a bundle of basil in his grip when he saw her walk in, a clip dripping with crystal flowers holding her hair back with a The Flour Pot crewneck on. Fatigue coated her movements as she reached for one of the maroon baskets stacked by the door, the handles tucked into her elbow before she started towards whatever aisle she was shooting for. 
There was a moment of her slowing on the front mat, eyes scanning through the shelves until she saw him, cart and all, and her expression changed. Her features softened and rounded, creases appearing by her eyes while her lips stretched into a smile. Her lips were soft and chapped, hair a bit messy, and sleeves dulled by a dusting of what had to be flour, but Harry still felt that knot in his stomach he did the first time he saw her all those months ago. Even more so, when his heart got carried away thinking that she may have been looking for him, too. 
Harry dropped his gaze when he saw her begin her way over to him. He didn't want to look too eager to speak to her again, especially not when he couldn't even admit to himself that he was looking forward to see her. 
"Hi, stranger," she greeted, voice lilting as the toes of her white shoes came into view of his downturned gaze. 
Swallowing around his dry throat, he slowed his work and looked up at her again, features schooled into something stoic. "Hi." 
Ever-pleasant and unperturbed by his attitude, she only looked to him with raised brows and expectant eyes. "So?" 
A pinch drew Harry's brows together as he looked at her. So what? 
When the beat of silence lasted too long for her liking, a teasing huff fell from (Y/N)'s lips. "What did you think of the scone?! You promised you'd tell me about it, remember?" 
For the first time in a long time, Harry could feel one corner of his lips twitch, the beginning of a titled smile. He thought of the length of receipt paper he still had folded away in his wallet. 
"It was really good," he started, shifting his weight on his feet, "The—uh—the lemon cream was really nice. Thank you." 
The look on her face at his compliments could rival that of the waning sunshine outside the windows. She was bright and shining, warm like the sunset colored sky. 
"I'm so happy you liked it!" she beamed, her shopping put to the back of her mind as she gave every bit of attention to him, "There's this recipe for a lavender version of the scone I've been wanting to try, but every time I tell the other girls they don't look as excited. They said it sounds like I'm trying to make soap." 
Harry didn't even realize what he was saying before the words were falling from his lips: "I'd try it." 
As much as he wouldn't—couldn't—say it out loud, he's sure he'd try anything she made. He wasn't lying about the raspberry scone.
Something sheepish touched at the corners of her smile as she dipped her gaze down to where he was now fumbling with a shaker of dried oregano on his cart. "Okay," she started, nodding her head, "I'll make some, and next time I see you, you can try them." 
His throat bobbed as he swallowed around the dryness coating his tongue. "Thank you." 
Under her attention, gaze peering through the fan of her lashes, those butterflies in his stomach and the beating of his heart traveled down to his palms, making them restless and the skin go clammy. 
All of this over another invitation.
—————
rosemary represents remembrance; looking back on the past with the future right in front of you
ahhhhh!!! hes finally here!!! im so excited to be sharing this story w you guys and letting you meet one of my kings thats sooooo in my heart!! def a little different of a story for me so I really hope you enjoy it!!!! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any ideas or requests or just thoughts about this story !
2K notes · View notes
gucciwins · 7 months
Text
don't know where we're going
Harry invites Y/N on tour as his opening artist...he wasn't expecting to fall in love
Word count: 26,709
A/N: hola mis amores 💜 here is this new story for you. it might have been a long time but I promise I will always come back. come talk to me about the new story
Warnings: smut (female pleasure)
+
Love on Tour had come to an end. The final show was here tonight in Italy, and Y/N was excited. Her band had shared they couldn’t sleep or eat from their nerves, but Y/N felt at ease. She had always felt at home on stage. Tonight would be no different. 
When Y/N’s mother realized her daughter loved to sing, she put on even more musicals for her to watch and sing along to. Y/N’s mother, Reina, never got tired of her daughter’s voice, and with her encouragement, Y/N began to play in bars, anywhere that would give her the time and space. A producer one day approached her after doing two songs in a coffee shop, telling her she had a chance to make it. He handed her a card and made her promise she’d call. She almost didn’t. 
Her mother gave her the courage to call, and her life changed. They got her time in the studio, where she got to present her ideas and songs. The team supported her, and from then on, Y/N Y/LN became a person to be on the lookout for. She had writing sessions with Julia Michaels that allowed her to learn that not only did she have the liberty to write everything she felt but that with experience comes inspiration. As she began to record, she knew she had to think about the future of a tour. Not soon after, she met her guitarist Felix at a sports bar, where they bonded over their mutual love for Formula One. Felix introduced her to June, who became her drummer, and their bassist is Quinn, June’s brother. 
The venues Y/N had booked out always surprised her because, despite its small capacity, every show was always sold out. Her first single blew through the charts; it got her name out there. Her first tour around the UK was a success and allowed her to begin playing festivals. Y/N was happy with how her life turned out and had no idea it could improve.
Y/N loved her job. She loved being on stage and connecting with fans. She loved touring with her favorite people. She lived a comfortable life doing what she loved. Y/N had a large fanbase, not popstar sensation fame, but it’s not what she was searching for. It was why she had to think about her answer when she found out the biggest pop star of her generation wanted her to open up for his final leg in Europe. It didn’t make sense because Y/N clearly knew about Harry Styles. She didn’t know he knew about her.
He’s a big fan.
Zane Lowe played him a song, and he was hooked.
Harry saw you play one night and has followed you ever since. 
The exposure would be good for you. 
Harry would like to meet with you before you make a choice.
The choice was clear for everyone but Y/N. She had never met the man, and while the pay would be incredible, she wasn’t willing to go on tour with someone she did not get on with. The meeting with Harry turns out to be a success. He comes in full of smiles, a bit bashful when his manager points out how big a fan he is. Harry doesn’t deny it; it makes her trust him because he’s genuinely a fan of her music, and she admires that. Y/N returns the compliment, stating that she learned to play “Fine Line” on the piano because it was her favorite. Her manager Zahra shared that she cried when she first heard it because she wished she had written the song. Harry blushed at the compliment while Y/N tried to brush past it. Thankfully, Harry was polite and thanked her. While everyone got to work on paperwork, it gave Y/N a moment to speak with Harry alone. Y/N started the conversation because Harry sat there quietly, simply enjoying observing her. 
“Thank you for the opportunity. My band and I are excited,” she expressed. 
Harry grins, “thank you for agreeing.” 
“I hear stadiums are what you’ll likely be sticking to.”
“Scared,” he teased. 
Y/N shrugs, “I never imagined singing in front of that capacity if I’m honest. I think it’s easier because no one will be there for me.” 
“I will be. Will watch every night,” he promises. 
Y/N waves him off, “wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
“Didn’t think you were. I hope we share the stage one day, maybe sing a song together.”
“If we make it to the end of this, you can come out during my set,” she teases.
“It would be my honor.” 
That was the start of Harry and Y/N’s friendship.
+
Y/N loved playing dress up. On stage, she got to wear whatever she wanted. It’s a big reason she enjoyed seeing what Harry would pick each night. Y/N loved spinning, and the perfect accessory to do so was a skirt, specifically a mini skirt. She remembers thrifting in a little shop in Dublin, where she found the perfect pink mini, and from there, it became part of who she was. From baby tees to oversized cargo pants to skirts, the one constant was the platforms that always gave her that extra height. 
Y/N knew she had to honor her mother each night she was on stage, and because the earliest memory Y/N has is sitting in front of the mirror as her mother tied ribbons and bows in her hair, she made it a tradition to keep them in. Y/N swore she had one that fit all of her outfits, and if it didn’t, she didn’t mind getting her scissors and cutting up a bit of clothing. 
She is now a few shows in and is having the time of her life. Y/N gets to play her music every night and enjoys seeing Harry perform. Then, she ends each night by discussing her favorite parts with Harry. Y/N doesn’t remember how it happened, but Y/N doesn’t go to sleep unless she has spoken to Harry; by now, it’s part of her routine. The friendship she is building with him makes her feel at ease on stage each night. One night, they talked about their inspiration, and Y/N told him she was inspired by all around her. From her friends to movies to even books she has read. She wrote “Another Love” based on Gus and January, a couple from a book she read. It’s easy to be inspired because she lets every bit of emotion change her.
“Your music is sad,” Harry tells her one night.
Y/N frowns, “excuse me.” 
“It’s not a bad thing.”
“I’m leaving,” she goes to stand up, but he stops her by holding onto her wrist. 
“Hear me out,” he pleads. She settles deeper into her seat. “I enjoy it. I think it’s the best music I have ever heard, and it’s so sad because it’s your real emotions and reactions. You’re putting your heart out there; sometimes the sadness wins out.” 
Y/N knows he’s right, but that doesn’t mean she has to say that. “Well, you’re always horny.” 
Harry burst out laughing, “fair.” 
“I’d never sing about watermelons with you,” she fakes disgust. 
Harry’s interest has now peaked. “What would you sing?” 
“Fine line, but not with you. I’d add it to my setlist if I was on tour now.” 
Harry didn’t know she really loved a song like that. “That’s–wow. Thank you.” 
“Realistically, I’d do Daylight. She's a bop.” 
Y/N laughs when she sees Harry nodding. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he promises.
At the following show, Y/N kept thinking back to what Harry said about how her music carries a sadness. She doesn’t mean to, but it’s the type of melodies that soothe her. It’s clear from the fanbase she has created that her fans also like it. 
“Mr. Styles says I have sad music as if he didn’t write Matilda,” she teases. “Kidding, we all know Cherry is his saddest song. While some songs are sad, you can still dance to them, so this is “Sorry.” Please sing if you know it. If not, that’s okay too.” 
Harry greets her when she walks off stage. “Did you enjoy that, boss man?” Y/N’s running on a high; all she wants to do is spend time with Harry, but he has to get ready. 
“You’re my favorite part of every show,” he tells her genuinely. 
Y/N feels her face heat up, but she knows where this could head and decides to stay clear. She pats his shoulder and walks away. “Good luck, Harry,” she calls out as she turns the corner, leaving Harry standing alone, wondering how he’d work up the courage to ask Y/N out. 
+
Another day, another show. Except today, Y/N saw a familiar face and had to bring it up. 
“I’ve seen you before. You look very pretty.” Y/N compliments the fan with a black baby tee with bedazzled cherries and glitter pants. “You’re coming to the shows because of me,” Y/N repeated, shocked. “But it’s the Harry Styles show!” Y/N leans closer, listening to the fan share that she’s their favorite artist. The fan had traveled from Iceland to be here tonight because it’s the only place she managed to get tickets. Then, she decided to try attending as many shows as possible before returning home. Y/N felt so much gratitude, making her want to hug this person. While Y/N couldn’t jump down, she thought of the next best thing. “Do you want to sing this one with me? Can we do that?” Y/N looks side-stage at her tour manager, and she’s shaking her head in disappointment, but no one is stopping her. “Come on up.” The fan is helped over the barricade and guided upstairs to meet her. Y/N hugs the fan tightly, thanking her for everything, and Y/N tells her she hopes to see her in the crowd again. “Everyone, this is Sasha! She’s part of the band tonight. Now, Sasha, do you know ‘The Band and I,’” Y/N checks. 
“Word for word,” Sasha assures her. 
“Wonderful, you’re all in for a treat. Hit it, Junie!” Y/N shouts. 
Walking off the stage that night, Y/N is flying on a high. She smiles with the band; she sees Harry leaning against a wall with a smirk. “Breaking all the rules, huh, almost gave Jeff a heart attack.” 
Y/N grimaces, “am I in trouble?” 
Harry rolls his eyes, “I enjoyed it, and I'm the boss. So no.”
She sighs in relief, “I-I just felt grateful. This is your tour,” she emphasizes. “And for the fan to enjoy my music and know the lyrics to a song I wrote, which I haven’t officially released yet, overwhelmed me. Playing in front of an audience has always been my dream, but having my lyrics sung back to me is not something I ever let myself imagine.” 
Harry smiles, and she knows he understands. He doesn’t have to say a word. His eyes say it all for her. Y/N is thankful she joined this tour, and while she admires Harry, she knows she can’t forget to keep her boundaries up because she knows they will only begin to fall with time.
+
It was early March when Harry changed their relationship. Y/N enjoyed time with her band, but sometimes she needed to be alone. She used the time to write or simply enjoy the silence, even for a few minutes. Harry offered her a private space where he kept his piano. He traveled everywhere with it, and while Y/N thought it was a hassle, she was grateful because it allowed her to play with melodies she had stuck in her head. 
Today was no different. She had spent an hour alone when Harry walked in on her, seemingly just as lost in his head. He was startled when he looked up and found her sitting in an old hoodie of her first merch ever created. 
“Cute,” he comments.
Y/N shrugs, “I know you want one.”
“Desperately.” 
She doesn’t know if he’s continuing the bit but decides she will have her mother bring one to her at Wembley for him. It would be her home show, so her mother would be in attendance. 
“Anything new?” He gestures to the piano and her open notebook. Y/N hands it to him, allowing him to have a look inside. There are more music notes than there are lyrics. She has the perfect melody, but words seem hard to find right now. “Care to play it for me?” 
Y/N loves that he always asks. They both know how private the writing process can be, but with Harry, it’s clear they have built a level of trust. Y/N starts slow on the keys before building up until, by the end reaches the slow start. Harry grins at her, and Y/N can see he likes it. She knows he plays the piano, but she’s never had the chance to watch him play; he’s more reserved compared to her. It’s not something she minds. It just means they both have boundaries they won’t cross and respects that. 
“It was beautiful,” he tells her after a few seconds. She thanks him softly, shutting her notebook and knows she has to head out to get ready. 
“Y/N, I-I really like having you on tour.” 
“Thank you for inviting me. It’s truly an amazing environment to work in. Even if you do need a few more ladies in your crew.”
Harry laughs but agrees. He knows she speaks from experience where most of his technicians are men. Y/N has a more diverse crew. It is an industry that works to break down women. It's nice to see how she always lifts everyone up. He didn’t realize how, over time, his feelings grew for Y/N. He went from seeing her every few days to speaking to her every night before bed. She brings him a comfort he did not know he was missing. Y/N had become the best part of his day, from watching her perform on stage to their nightly talks. He wanted to spend all his free time with her, so he chose to be honest with her about his feelings.
“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” Harry asked softly. 
Y/N turned to him, a gentle smile on her face that helped calm his nerves the tiniest bit. He was worried it would not go his way because there were times he gave her a compliment, and she always brushed it away. He always greeted her with a hug, but she always turned it into a one-second side hug. He didn’t know if that was because he made her nervous or she simply didn’t like hugs, although he’d seen her hug her bandmates. Heck, he’s seen them all squished on a couch together. 
Harry takes a deep breath; he wants to look away from her, her gaze making him nervous, but the comfort he finds in her gorgeous orbs allows him to push forward. “I-I like you, Y/N.” 
Y/N thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She did not expect a confession of this kind from Harry. It leaves her frozen for a second because while Y/N reciprocates those feelings, she’s not at liberty to act on them, not when working on the largest tour of her life. Y/N doesn’t care what people think. It’s a big reason she doesn’t look at tabloids or use her social media accounts, but this–thinking of pursuing a relationship with Harry is not something she can allow herself to give in.
“You’re sweet, Harry. I think you’re great too.” 
Harry grimaces because he realizes she doesn’t understand what he is saying. Before he can explain what he means, June, Y/N’s drummer, rushes in, telling her Felix was having an issue and it was bad. Y/N patted his shoulder and excused herself.
Well, it went nothing like he expected. Harry held out for her to say she felt the same, but she clearly didn’t. Harry knows many would tell him to move on, but he knows Y/N is special. While he wouldn’t pursue her, he knew he still wanted her in his life.  
+
As much as Y/N hated to admit it, after Harry’s confession, there has been an awkwardness in their conversations. It’s been too much because they no longer spend time alone. Y/N decided to treat their relationship the same, but when she went to his room that night, she found Mitch with him. Y/N knew that she messed up. She also knew she was being selfish by wanting to keep it all the same when he had put himself out there only for her to brush him off. 
A few shows go by, and Y/N feels better because Harry still seeks her out to have lunch together. He invites her to join his workouts, which she regrets because Brad is honestly insane. Brad had promised to make a routine that best fit her needs. Harry did not change much; he kept flirting, offering her compliments and daily hugs. A rush went through her each night, knowing he was watching her. 
Tonight was no different. He offered her a short hug, and off she went to play to his fans. Y/N felt off from the moment she got on stage but had no idea why. Quinn stepped close, wanting to know if she was feeling okay, but Y/N couldn’t describe it other than a pit in her stomach. It was as if she sensed something was coming. Y/N promised she was fine and pushed through. 
Halfway through the set, Y/N looked over and saw Harry staring at her with a fond smile. Y/N didn’t want to look away but had a show to play. Her feelings were winning, and Y/N knew she wouldn’t care about the aftermath if she decided to date Harry. She wanted to bask in the feeling of liking him and hopefully loving him one day. So, she decided to do something different to let him know she was ready to have that conversation. 
“Right, this is a little different tonight. I-I have a friend who loves this song, and we haven’t played it in some time, but I thought they might enjoy it and hopefully you as well. This is ‘Crystal Clear.’” 
This song is one she wrote when she was wishing for a happy future with a partner who loves and respects her, showing them that she won’t give in to her fears and wants to be together. It was one of Quinn’s favorites to play, but all collectively agreed it didn’t fit the setlist. Y/N knew she’d get endless questions for adding it so suddenly, but she’d deal with that after speaking with Harry. They played a few more songs, and once she gave her final bow, she hurried off stage. Y/N expected to find Harry waiting for her there but instead ran into Mitch, who looked at her, startled.
“Where’s Harry?” Y/N asked impatiently. 
“Piano room, but–”
She hurried down the hall, ignoring Mitch, who tried telling her to stop. She didn’t realize he was following her down. 
“Y/N don’t–” She walks into the piano room even as Mitch tries to stop her to find Harry hugging a woman. Y/N knew it wasn’t a friend because the grip the woman had on Harry was one of possession.  Harry was looking at her, but his face was hard to read. It was as if all the walls she had broken down were now standing higher and stronger. Y/N didn’t move her eyes away from him; her eyes landed on his swollen lips. It’s clear she interrupted a private moment. Y/N grimaces because she knows she would never be able to think about this piano without the tainted memory of Harry wrapped in the arms of another. 
“I’m sorry,” she sends them a grim look and walks out, closing the door behind her. She finds Mitch and Sarah staring at her, unsure what to do; they must be aware of the situation between her and Harry. 
“Is that his…” She couldn’t even say the word. 
Sarah frowned, “she’s uh kind of friend.”
Y/N didn’t need to hear anymore. Sure, Harry said he liked her, but when she didn’t give him the answer he wanted, what did she want him to do, beg and make her open her eyes. No, she needed to figure it out on her own, and now that she did, it was too late.
It’s not like she had a reason to be jealous. She never told Harry she liked him. All she did was pat his shoulder and move on like nothing had ever been said. Y/N bid Mitch and Sarah good luck for the night and walked to her green room. Y/N’s tears began to fall as soon as the door closed behind her. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Nothing was going on between them, yet why did she feel like nothing would be the same anymore. Maybe it was hurting because he had promised to watch her set each night, and she sang a different song tonight because he had said it was his favorite. Y/N knew she wasn’t being fair, sending him mixed signals, but Y/N didn’t deserve to feel this either. It made her feel as if his feelings weren’t even real. She was blinded by her tears to notice June was on the couch, book in hand, but was thankful she was there because she got to break down in the comfort of arms she was familiar with. 
Y/N wasn’t okay, but she would be. It was only a crush.
+
Y/N could not sleep that night. She tossed and turned until she gave up and decided to go to her balcony to watch the sunrise. Time moved slowly, and it allowed her to regroup. By eight o’clock, she was all packed up and waiting in the lobby. Y/N rode to the airport with her friends, where they would all get on separate flights and reunite in May for rehearsals and more love on tour. Y/N was ready to go home and enjoy a home-cooked meal with her mother. She had said goodbye to everyone except for one person. He was quieter today; it allowed him to blend in. Harry had a “Damn” sweater on, the hood up, and a claw clip in the jumper's pocket. Y/N starts walking his way before she can change her mind. 
“Harry,” she calls out softly. 
He looks up, offering her the tiniest smile. “Y/N.”
“Have a good break.” She offers awkwardly. 
He nods. They make no move, and Y/N knows they have no idea where they stand, but Y/N would never start something if Harry had someone else, so she knew she had to come back from the break clear-headed and with these feelings gone and, if not at least tucked away. 
Y/N opened her arms and shrugged, telling him it was up to him. Harry didn’t even have to think about it; he wrapped her in a tight hug, breathing her in for one last time. 
“Have a safe flight,” he whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”
She walks away with a heavy heart and hopes a month and a half is enough to lose these feelings.
+
While home, Y/N tries to deal with her feelings, and for the most part, it works. Y/N got in the routine of going on morning walks followed by an hour of yoga. She found it helpful in clearing her thoughts and starting her day without a clouded mind. Y/N had not talked to Harry since that morning in the airport; he had sent texts, but they had all gone unread. Her mother tried to convince her to answer him, but she knew it would only hurt more if she found out he was dating that person. The only good thing about this is that Y/N had written five new songs. It seemed heartbreak and love were always a good sign of inspiration. Y/N played her favorite to her mum, and she was told it was okay. Felix told her that the new song was the heart of the new album she was working on. Through the years, she had learned to take what her mother says with a grain of salt. 
Her mother was also tired of her moping. Y/N, when on break, would go to her own flat and visit her mother occasionally but so far spent her entire holiday there. Her mother assured Y/N she enjoyed having her home, but it did worry her that she had not left the house. So, as any mother would do, she set Y/N up for a blind date. Y/N said no, time and time again, but Reina promised it would only be coffee. Y/N knew she didn’t have to go, but some of her was tempted because while she knew she had friends to call up, this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Going out and talking with a stranger would be awkward but would be a change in topic. 
Y/N was told he’d find her as he received a photo of her. She got there early, deciding to use the time to read a book. Quinn told her “One Last Stop” would change her life and, so far, hadn’t disappointed. Y/N was lost in the story that she jumped up when someone lightly touched her shoulder. 
“Shit, sorry,” she looked up, hoping the person hadn’t spilled any coffee, and to her surprise, they were empty-handed. His chocolate eyes were filled with concern, but Y/N brushed it off by offering him a timid smile. “Hi, are you Miles?” 
“Yes, and you’re Y/N,” he stated. 
“Mhm…it’s nice to meet you.” 
Miles nods, “you’re prettier than the picture I was sent.” 
Y/N feels her face warm in embarrassment and doesn’t even dare ask to see the photo they showed him. If she knew her mother, it had to be the time she jumped into Glacier Lake and came out looking like a wet dog. Her mother always made sure to keep her humble. “Thanks,” she mumbled. 
He gestures for her to sit down and follows after her. She tucks her book back into her bag, ready to give him her full attention. “Do you want something to drink? Heard they have an amazing lavender latte.” 
Y/N gestures to her cup before her, “already got something.”
Miles nods, “a pastry, then?”
Now that she would never say no to. “I’ll take a muffin please.” 
“You got it.” 
Miles walks over to the counter, and while he’s away, she allows herself to look him over. He’s cute, wearing black trousers and a baby blue cardigan. It’s clear he’s comfortable with his style by how he carries himself. Y/N knows if she wasn’t trying to get over her feelings, she would have given him a chance, but with her going back on tour, she isn’t ready for that.
When Miles returns to the table with his drink and two muffins, she asks him about his work and family. She discovers he’s an art curator and is working on his next collection. He shares he has two older siblings and two younger, making him the middle child. His mother tries to make it up by having lunch with him each week, but it’s easy to be overlooked as a middle child. Y/N is intrigued with him and knows Miles would be a good friend; if anything, she thinks Felix would get on with him better than she did. 
Y/N realized it was her turn to talk about herself, but she didn’t really like stating her job. Sometimes, people judged her, and she honestly didn’t want things to get worse with Miles, but it seemed Y/N’s luck would not improve because when the door opened, a familiar face walked in. Familiar brown curls sticking out from his trucker hat, Harry’s casual wear had always been comfortable but stylish. He always tended to run cold, so he wore an oversized green coat that reminded her of the time he threw it over her when he saw she fell asleep in his green room after his soundcheck. Y/N looked away before he could see her, but Y/N was right by an open space, easy to view by the counter. Harry could spot anything and everyone, and he was never one to be rude and ignore someone, but she hoped that would change today.
She turned back to her conversation, but in the corner of her eye, she saw someone approaching. Y/N held her breath, hoping he would walk past her, but stopped right in front of her. 
“Y/N.” Oh, how she missed hearing her name falling from his lips. 
She looks up and finds him staring at her with a timid smile. Y/N gets up and offers him a hug that he quickly accepts. They keep it short, though she feels his hand linger at the small of her back, almost like he didn’t want her to move away, but she wasn’t alone. 
“Harry, this is uh…Miles. Miles, this is Harry.” 
Harry doesn’t ask anything. He simply tells Miles it’s great to meet him. Miles looks at Y/N in confusion, but she brushes him off. “How’d you meet?” Harry asks, intrigued. 
“Our mum’s set us up on a date,” Miles explains for her. “It’s actually our first time meeting.” 
Y/N isn’t sure why Miles shared that with Harry, but she can’t blame it. Harry has this trusting aura that makes people want to tell him all their darkest secrets. Y/N would know, seeing as she has shared parts of herself with Harry that no one else has seen, not even her best friends. 
Harry nods. She can’t seem to read him at all. His pseudonym name is called, and he uses that as his exit. “Well, it was good to see you.”
“You too, H. I’ll see you soon.” 
He nods, giving his goodbye to Miles as well. Y/N watches him until he’s out of the coffee shop and no longer in her view from the mirrors. She finds Miles studying her and knows he might have been able to pick up on the tension between her and Harry. 
“Do you want to tell me about that? You don’t have to.” 
Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop.  “To start, I kinda have a crush on him, but he’s my boss.”
Miles' eyes widened in shock, “Harry Styles is your boss!” He was not expecting that, but she could tell he was intrigued. His response sends her into a laughing fit, and knows that while she won’t be dating Miles, he will make a good friend.
+
Y/N felt her break was long and too short at the same time. While she was able to use the time to re-energize, she also wrote a few more songs she wanted to share with her band before booking time for studio sessions. Y/N knew studio time would be hard to find, but she was determined to do it between breaks, even if all she got was two hours.
They had been rehearsing on the stage when she heard a clap from their final song for the set. Y/N turned and spotted the Love Band. She set down her guitar and rushed into Pauli’s arms. They spun her around, laughing as she blubbered on how she missed them. Pauli set her down, giving everyone a chance to say hello. Hanging in the back of the group were Mitch and Harry. Y/N knew she would need to have a conversation with Harry soon, but for now, she would bask in the joy of being back on tour and sharing the stage with him.
“Harry! Mitch!” 
Harry looked surprised to see her look happy, calling for him. He sent her a small wave, but Y/N was going in for the hug. He basked in the warmth she had to share with him. Being back in the same space with Y/N was comforting after seeing her out on a date a few weeks ago. It made him feel awful, and he couldn’t help that he made Y/N feel the same with his last fling. 
She let go of him, moving on to Mitch. Y/N was chatting away, telling them she had gotten a new guitar and was excited to play it tonight. Soon enough, Mitch and her were lost in their own conversation about lyrics she had written and how she was stuck on finding a melody that would work. Mitch promised to have a look and give her any ideas that would come up. 
“You’re still welcome to use the piano, Y/N. I know how much that helped before,” Harry offered. 
Y/N fell quiet because while she knew Harry was still there, she didn’t feel overwhelmed because she wasn’t conversing with him, but now all his attention was on her. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” she mumbles, knowing she wouldn’t take him up on it.  
Harry nods, and he thinks better of it while he’s about to excuse himself. “Y/N, do you—would it be okay if we talked in private.” 
Mitch excuses himself, leaving it all up to Y/N. She has no idea what this conversation will entail but owes it to herself to hear him out. “Lead the way, boss.” 
Harry looks pleased and walks off the stage, leading them down some stairs and into the pit, but he doesn’t stop there. He makes her climb a few more stairs, landing them in tonight's lower bowl section of the venue.
Y/N whistles, taking in the view from the distance. “Quite a view. I might have to watch the show from here one night.” 
He laughs, “you let me know, and we can make it happen. We’ll make sure you’re not mobbed.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “please, your fans wouldn’t be able to recognize me.”
“Beg to differ. There are more signs for you each night.” Y/N waves him off. “They’ve started to make Tik Tok edits about you.” Harry doesn’t share how he knows, but some nights over the break, he spent time watching them. It made him miss her more, seeing her running around the stage like it was hers. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t even know it. 
“Please, stop!” Y/N laughs. “My ego can only take so much.” 
Y/N had forgotten how easy it was with Harry, but being with him now made her wish things hadn’t changed. She had to go an entire month without hearing from him because her feelings were hurt over something that should not have bothered her.
“Y/N, I am sorry for how we left things in Japan.”
She grimaces, “me too.” Harry quickly disagrees, but Y/N reminds him of all his unanswered texts.
“You’re forgiven,” he tells her. 
While Y/N appreciates it, a big topic needs to be addressed. 
Harry takes a deep breath before turning his body to look at her. “I know my actions and words might have confused you, but I’m here to be honest. I won’t lie to you, not now, not ever. Do you understand?” 
She nods. 
“Words Y/N. I need to hear you say it.” 
“I understand. You won’t lie to me. I trust you,” Y/N truly believes her words. 
He dips his head in acknowledgment. “I like you, and I went on to do something stupid. The girl you saw me with is named Victoria. She–well, to put it lightly, she was a hookup, and she’d join me from time to time. When you saw me that night, she was surprising me because she was going through a breakup and needed comfort, and well–I felt rejected and fell into her. I’m not blaming you–I know I could have said no, but I was too overwhelmed that I preferred to do something to disappoint myself and you. My therapist said if I had talked about it with someone–anyone, this wouldn’t have happened, but I’m not too good with words most times.”
Y/N offers him a smile, “doing pretty good now.”
Harry reaches for her hand, and Y/N lets him take it. She can see he needs the support. “I got a lot to work through, but I’m better and want to be a better partner and person. I want to be someone worthy of you.” 
“Harry,” Y/N breathes out. “That's–you’re…that’s not why I didn’t confess my feelings. You’re amazing. I would be so lucky to explore a relationship with you.”
He looks at her, confused, “then what is it?”
“You’re my boss. You can say under technicalities you aren’t, but this is your sold-out world tour. I’m making a name for myself, doing what I love. While being an opening act for you has been a dream come true, being tied to you as your girlfriend will put my name out there, but not how I want. Do you understand?” Y/N hopes she got her point across, never wanting Harry to think he wasn’t enough.
Harry sighs because he knows where she is coming from. He wished he didn’t; he wished he could beg her to say yes to dating him to see where it could lead, but Harry knows how much she loves being on stage, and he would never dare threaten to take that from her or anything that comes with it. 
“I understand. I do. I like you, I do. While it sucked seeing you dating someone else, I respect you. I still want to be your friend.” Harry rubs a hand under his scuffed jaw. “I miss talking with you about each show at night.”
Y/N squeezes his hands. “Friends, we’re friends. I hope you’re okay with me being in your life, even as a friend.” 
Harry stands up, bringing her with him, and wraps her in a tight hug. He breathes her in. She has a distinct smell of roses and vanilla. It’s perfectly her. He wished he could bottle up the scent and take it with him wherever he went so that it hopefully would make missing her easier. 
“I’ll always be your friend,” he assures her. 
He can be friends with her. Harry knows it could lead him to heartbreak, but it would be worth it for Y/N.
+
The next few shows fly by, and Y/N and Harry easily fall into a routine again. Y/N joins Harry for his morning workouts, but Brad made her a workout to suit her likes. While Harry loves intense core workout, Y/N loves to stretch. There are days when all three go off to do a Pilates class. Mainly, Y/N does her yoga in a corner and joins Harry for his core sets. 
From there, they’ll do breakfast with their bandmates, sometimes together, and sometimes go their separate ways. They have limited their time together alone because Y/N knows her feelings for Harry are only growing, and Harry wants to respect Y/N and her boundaries. Y/N shared with her bandmates how she felt, and they understood, except Quinn, who told her she should go for it. Everyone looked at Quinn, shocked, but he just shook his head, telling her to really think about this because, from his point of view, Y/N and Harry were perfect for each other. Y/N let Quinn’s words ring through her mind for some time, but Y/N was nervous about taking that next step. She wasn’t sure how it would work. She loves working with Harry, and she knows he’s taking a break after, but what if he doesn’t like that his partner is never home, just like him. Y/N loves being with her family, but she’s never happier than when she is on stage. Y/N can’t seem to take that step just yet. 
In Scotland, Y/N finally decided to return to using Harry’s piano. She initially felt strange but realized she had been missing it for some time. Y/N walks in and is happy to find it open. Y/N runs a hand over the smooth wood before taking a seat. She sets down her old journal and opens it up to the last page she wrote. 
Y/N lets her hands rest on the keys before going into C major. She repeats it a few times until she feels ready. It was a slow melody that went hand in hand with her lyrics. She began to sing in the room with only the sound of the piano. 
Look at me. I feel homesick
Want my dog in the door
And the light in the kitchen
A creek behind her made her jump up suddenly, hands shooting out to grab her notebook to her chest. Harry steps back, hands up in defense. There is an apologetic look on his face.
“I knocked, but don’t think you heard.” 
Y/N feels her face heat up and knows she tends to get lost in her music. “Sorry, it was empty when I came in. Did not expect you to come in. I can leave if you are planning to use the space. It is yours, after all.” 
Harry brushes her off, walks into the room, and gestures for her to sit back on the bench with him. He scoots in close, wanting no space between them. “What did you play just now? I’ve never heard a tune so mellow yet sad.” 
“Think I wrote my album closer,” she confesses. 
The joy on Harry’s face is apparent. “Shit, really! That’s wonderful.”
“It’s--gosh, how I explain it. I felt like floating, and this melody really carried me through. You can find an underlying of it through a few of the other songs,” she can’t help but express to him
Harry sits back, impressed, “is the album complete?” 
“Think so. I need to go into the studio and finish a few, maybe decide on one or two. Then, all good to go. Think all that’s missing is a name.” 
“Y/N’s house,” he jokes. 
“Ah, wouldn’t that be nice. I have an idea, but I need to be sure.” 
“Will you play it for me?” 
Y/N knows what he’s asking, and part of her wants to say no, but no one has heard the song. Not her bandmates, not her co-writers, not her producer, and certainly not her mother. Y/N knows if she shares this with Harry, it will change the entire album for her. When she thinks back on this song, it will now have a whole new meaning. 
“It’s six minutes.”
“I have all the time in the world,” he promises her. 
While they both know it’s not true, she appreciates the sentiment as they’re both set to perform tonight. Y/N takes a deep breath and, with trembling hands, begins to play her song for him. Y/N drags the intro out for a little longer before letting herself sing these lyrics she’s been carrying around for weeks. Y/N has her eyes closed, swaying as she lets herself tell this story of being exhausted and lonely for being away from everything she loves while feeling at home and her most genuine self. It tells the story of how she can grow even when experiencing so much change while being entirely on her own.
I feel like myself right now.
I feel like myself right now.
I feel like myself right now.
I feel like myself right now
Mmm.
Y/N opens her eyes, looks at Harry, and finds him crying. She sits up straight, practically pushing herself to sit in his lap as she wipes away his tears. “No, no, what are you doing? Please don’t cry.” 
“You made me cry,” he mumbles while Y/N keeps her hands on his cheeks, brushing away his tears with her thumbs. “It was a fucking brilliant song.”
Y/N feels her face warm, “you think so?”
He nods, “think my tears say enough.”
“You could have cried because it was awful.” 
Harry bursts out laughing, “absolutely not.”
Y/N wants to lean in and kiss him to thank him for his kind words, but he doesn’t deserve her confusion. “It’s the perfect way to end my album.” 
“I agree.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “you haven’t heard the whole thing.” 
Harry shrugs, “don’t have to.” The flattery is becoming too much, but she doesn’t want to move away from him. “You’ll remember this moment when you win album of the year next awards season.” 
“Shut up, those are stupid.” 
“Hey now! I happen to own a few.” 
Her hands are still on his face, his tears now dried up, but she doesn’t move away. Y/N is enjoying this too much, and a part of her knows Harry is, too. “I don’t do it for the awards. Music is something I’ve always had, and if I can share it with a few others and they find some type of meaning from it, then it means I’ve done a job well done.” 
“Fucking well said, Y/N.” 
Y/N giggles, “You can open for me on my tour after I win my Grammy,” she teases.
Harry places a hand over his heart, “it would be my greatest honor.” 
“Shut up, you dork.”
Y/N finally lets her hands drop, and Harry takes a second to hide his disappointment. 
“Does this mean we can hang out with a buffer now?” 
Y/N furrows her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “Sorry?”
Harry pinches her thigh lightly, making her jump closer to him, almost losing her balance. He wraps his hand around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Come on, we’ve been hanging out together, but someone always seems to be with us. If it’s not Brad, it’s Anthony; if it’s not Pauli, it’s Quinn. It’s been never-ending.”
They didn’t mean to do it, but Y/N knows she’s missed their inside jokes and private late-night talks when Harry tells everyone he goes to bed early when, in reality, he’s chatting Y/N’s ear off. 
“I guess we can go back to late-night pillow talks.” 
“And exploring the city?” 
“Course, I missed your Google facts.” 
“Heey,” he yells, offended. 
“Can’t deny it. I saw you do it many times.”
“Trying to impress you,” he mutters. “Clearly, all I do is fail.” 
“Stick to music. You’ll go far in life,” Y/N laughs as he rolls his eyes at her. 
“Haha, it means we start right now. Found this old thrift shop nearby.” He pulls her with him as he drags her out, careful to ensure they aren’t caught because if word is out Harry has gone without security, it could be madness. 
“We’ve got a show in a few hours.” 
“They’ve got beautiful skirts. I called and got pictures sent over.” 
Y/N sighs. He knows her too well. “Lead the way, H.” 
Harry shoots her a charming smile, and Y/N knows she would have followed him wherever he asked her to without a second thought. She knew she was in safe hands with him.
+
Harry and Y/N had fun exploring Amsterdam for a few days before heading to Ireland. They had each planned an activity and a place they wanted to eat. Sometimes, they disagreed on food because of Harry’s eating choices, while Y/N would eat anything and everything as long as dessert was always included. Harry thought it was too much, but when he found out how much Y/N enjoyed it, he said yes and ensured she had something sweet, even if he didn’t get anything. 
Jeff would tell Harry off for going without security or someone for the team but brushed him off because he didn’t need anyone intruding on his time with Y/N. He loved spending hours with her uninterrupted, touring cities he had never once had the chance to explore. While he enjoyed those days, Harry also loved show days because he got to see Y/N dance around on stage. She went from singing in sweats to her favorite mini skirts for showtime, and when Y/N decided to pair it with a baby tee, Harry had to think of world hunger and puppies to make his hard-on go away. He knows he should look away, but she captivates him every time she’s on stage, dancing and spinning around to sitting on the edge of the stage. Y/N occasionally brought fans on stage, but when that happened, he would be taken further backstage for his safety; he knew those fans were there for her at that time while he was forgotten.
Tonight was a big night. Harry would be playing at Slane Castle. Harry knew it would be special because not everyone is asked to perform here. Harry had spent most of his time today with his crew, psyching Mitch up for his debut performance. Many didn’t know Mitch had created an album and were even more surprised when he was announced as another opener for tonight. Y/N was still at the forefront of his mind, knowing he had to wish her luck for tonight. He’d be deeper in the audience tonight to watch all his friends open this monumental show for him.
Y/N would be a fool to not know what it means to be playing Slane Castle in Ireland today. Y/N’s nerves were insane today. She knew she wasn’t nervous. No, she was anxious. When she was younger, her biggest fear was disappointing her mother. Y/N hated failing others, while her mom did an excellent job of assuring she didn’t have to carry all that pressure on her shoulders. Sometimes, it came back, and she couldn’t shake it.
She had spent thirty minutes on the phone with her mother, and nothing helped. Y/N wasn’t worried about disappointing herself. No, this–tonight was bigger than her. Quinn and Felix could tell something was up, but they couldn’t help, not when June kept taking off a piece of clothing when she saw the time move closer to when they were meant to take the stage. 
June was on a clothes removal band and couldn’t go to the restroom alone or even for a snack. It was honestly quite funny. It allowed Y/N to momentarily take her mind off the anxiety lingering in her body. When Y/N saw she had half an hour and her handshake got worse, she felt her throat swell up and excused herself. Y/N had no idea where to go or where to hide. She simply walked and ended up in a secluded corner where she tried to center herself before going on stage.
Harry walks into Y/N’s green room excited to see her, but all he finds are her three bandmates playing cards while June sits in a robe. He doesn’t bother questioning it and instead asks for Y/N.
They all turn to look at each other before Quinn answers. “She left like ten minutes ago. She said she needed a breather.”
That makes sense; he hates that he doesn’t know where exactly she went. Felix pulls her phone out and airdrops a location to Harry. “That’s her exact location. You should have her share her location with you. We can always see where she is.”
Not a bad idea at all. He wouldn’t mind Y/N knowing where he was, especially if seeing where she was on a map could bring him the smallest of comfort. Harry thanks them and walks back out. He walks for around ten minutes until he reaches a secluded corner in the grass. Y/N is sitting on an oversized denim jacket while she stares at her hands. 
“Y/N,” he calls out softly to not startle her. She lifts her head and offers him a shaky grin. He can instantly tell something’s wrong. “Hi, love. Been looking for you.” 
She shrugs as if to say she’s here. Harry steps closer but is careful not to invade her space. “Came by to wish you luck.” 
Harry regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth because Y/N looked away from him, burying her face in her hands. He heard her cries, hurried to sit down, and scooped her in his lap. He rocked her back and forth as he tried to get her to stop. He hated seeing her upset. Y/N was always the epitome of strength, and this had him worried. Y/N expressed that she had a hard time going on stage, but she said it was ages ago. 
He whispered sweet nothings, hoping to calm her down, but it wasn’t working. “Please tell me how I can help. Please,” he begged.
“I-I-I don’t w-want to disappoint you,” she cries out. Her tears keep falling, and seeing her like this breaks his heart. 
“Hey, hey. I got you.” Harry brings her close, letting her rest her head on his chest. “You’re okay. I got you.” 
“It’s a big night for you, and I want to make you proud. I-I can’t disappoint you,” she repeats. 
Harry hates that she thinks she can do anything to disappoint him. He pulls her away from his chest because he needs her to understand that she can do no wrong in his eyes. “Love, will you look at me?” 
Y/N lifts her head, and her teary eyes meet his warm ones. He hates that she’s doubting herself. “Tonight is the same as any other.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not. No–”
“Shh—yes, it is. Do you want to know why?” 
“Why?” She mumbles. 
Harry brushes her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Because I’ll still be watching. I will be cheering you on as I do every night. You make every night special, and I know tonight will be no different.” 
“You have too much faith in me,” she mutters against his shirt.
“I always will. I’m a big fan of you, Y/N, not only as a person but also as an artist. I’ve seen how hard you work. How you constantly want to improve each song and each set. You want everyone in that audience to have fun even if they aren’t here for you. This is a large crowd, but if you close your eyes, it’s just you and the band. That is what you can control. So, tonight, when you get on stage, whether you sing one song or five or if you mess up a guitar note or you change your setlist. I can promise you I will be proud.” 
Y/N sniffles; her tears have dried up. “Harry,” she whines. Y/N can’t find any words and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Harry wraps his arms around her waist and holds her tight. It’s a comfort they have been both seeking all day. Y/N then realized that all the anxiety she faced was because of Harry. She admires and respects him and wouldn’t dare want to mess up his big night. 
“Every night is special. Tonight is slightly different only because Mitch is also performing,” Harry teases, hoping to make her laugh, and it works. He feels her laugh move through his chest and settle deep in his heart. “It’s another stop of Love on Tour, and then it’s home shows. Now that should scare you,” he jokes. “My family will be there.” 
Y/N knows those words should frighten her, but if anything, it brings her comfort. Harry’s family and hers will meet for the first time, which she had been looking forward to. Honestly, if her mum gives the seal of approval to Harry, it might indeed be over for her. Although that’s something to worry about in a few days, for now, her focus is on putting on a show to remember the thousands of people at Slane Castle. 
“Do you want to pick my outfit tonight?” Y/N offers, in exchange for him helping her avoid a panic attack, her hands playing with the ends of his hair. 
Harry lights up, “you mean it?” 
Y/N laughs, “it’s got to match my ribbons for tonight.” 
Harry pouts, “what do you take me for?”
She shrugs.
“I’ll have you know I co-hosted the Met Gala.” 
Y/N wags her eyebrows, “fancy.” 
“Shoes?”
“Not up for debate.” 
Harry waves her off, “good enough for me.” 
They walk back together, hand in hand, as Harry goes over possible outfit combinations he has in mind for her. He really wants to see her in leather pants because he knows it will hug her nicely. Her black bows sit nicely in her hair as she does her makeup. June made her do an eye mask for ten minutes to bring down the puffiness in her eyes. It worked, mostly. Y/N did a shimmery eyeshadow and her eyeliner. All that was left was her outfit. 
Y/N walked into the bathroom, where Harry told her it was all laid out. She shimmied into her sequined flares and slipped on the simple black baby tee. She ruffled her hair a bit, and overall, Y/N was happy with the look for tonight. She walked out to find everyone waiting for her. She did a spin and got lots of whistles and claps. Y/N told them all to shut up and to get to the stage. She lingered behind with Harry. The look he was giving her was anything but friendly.
“You look beautiful.”
“Might have to hire you as my stylist,” she jokes. 
“No, I’d have you wear skirts every night.” 
“But not tonight?” Y/N asks confused. 
“Wanted something different tonight.”
Y/N doesn’t argue with him. She did give him a full range of her clothes. Y/N hears her name being called and knows she needs to get her mic pack. 
“I’ll see you after?” Y/N checks. 
“Of course.” 
They stand there staring at each other. Y/N, for a moment, thinks Harry will kiss her, and she knows she will let him. Instead, he does something that makes her catch her breath. He steps close and leans down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Good luck, Y/N.”
It’s a simple gesture, but it has her heart racing. “Thank you, H.” 
Y/N hurries off after and thanks her engineer for her mic. They hook it to the side of her pants, and Y/N jumps to test its security. So far, so good. Y/N looks behind her one last time and finds Harry giving her a thumbs-up. She could do this. Y/N would go on stage and have fun. 
From the moment Y/N got on stage to when she got off, Y/N could not stop smiling. The crowd was incredible, singing her most popular songs back to her. She could not stop thanking them for a fantastic night. 
“Before I play you one last song and finally leave this stage, there is one last thank you. To Harry, thank you for asking me to be a part of such a special day. It’s one I will never forget. Thank you for the kindness, but most importantly, thank you for sharing your fans. They have been the best crowds to play to. This one's for you.” 
Y/N had never done a dedication before, but it felt right tonight.
In the crowd, Harry was watching Y/N’s set, and while he didn’t need a thank you, it meant a lot coming from Y/N. Harry had no idea Brad was recording him or that he caught Harry blushing as Y/N dedicated the night's final song to him. His friends knew teasing was always okay with Harry, but he looked transfixed, staring at Y/N serenading the crowd they knew could wait until later. 
Y/N had the time of her life dancing with Felix, Quinn, and June to Harry’s set. She laughed loudly when he got called a slag, cheered when he thanked his band, tried to hide when he thanked her and the other openers and cried as he played “Fine Line.” It was a perfect show, everything Harry deserved. 
While it was late, Y/N and Harry still hung out, talking about their favorite bits when they reached their hotel rooms. Y/N loved it when a fan shouted they loved her during a song transition. Harry thought “Kiwi” went insane tonight. Y/N recounted the slag story, and Harry let her laugh it up. He teased her, saying he noticed when she tripped over her words when introducing her band. It was every moment that made the night special. While they had a few days off before Wembley, Y/N knew it was time to head for bed as it would be a travel day. Y/N couldn’t wait to hug her mum and knew Harry felt the same.
Harry lingered outside her door as if he didn’t want to leave. Y/N wanted him to stay, but it would be crossing the boundaries they set for each other. Y/N knew she had a lot to figure out, but day by day, everything became more apparent. 
“Good night, Y/N love.” 
Y/N steps on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, H.” Harry walked away from her with a cheesy grin on her face. As Y/N closed the door, she knew one thing: that she liked Harry.
She is head over heels for him. Y/N knew the ball was in her court. She had to make a move if she wanted anything to happen. It seemed the hometown shows were about to get interesting. 
+
Y/N had dreamed about playing at Wembley Stadium. While it technically wasn’t for her, she would play in a sold-out stadium. Y/N would open the show for four nights. She’d get to play here and dream of a future where she sold out her favorite stadium in her hometown. 
She was in the middle of the walkway, where Harry sings “Matilda” each night. Y/N doesn’t hear the camera shutter or the footsteps approaching her. Y/N is simply taking it all in, wanting to remember the stadium empty before she sees it filled up.
“Do you still dream about nights like tonight?” Y/N turns her head when she hears her mother’s gentle voice. 
“Mum!” Y/N shoots up from where she’s sitting and runs into her open arms. Y/N stands taller than her mother but never feels smaller than being wrapped tightly in her familiar embrace. “Thought you were coming until later.” 
Reina laughed, “Wanted to spend the day with you, oh, and Quinn promised we’d catch up on gossip.”
Y/N shook her head, “did he bring you out here?” 
“Sure did. I needed to say hi to my girl before gossiping my life away.” 
“Is it book club?” 
Reina sighs dramatically, “it always is.”
Y/N and her mum chatter as they make their way backstage. She’s got family members and friends coming over the four days, but her mum promised to be at all four. Her childhood best friends, Tiffany and Elena. Her cousins and nephews were coming, even her Aunt and Uncles. Y/N reminded everyone she was simply the opening act, but no one cared; they were all proud of her. 
She had introduced her mother to nearly everyone except her favorite person. Y/N found Harry with his headphones in but took them off when he noticed her. 
“Y/N,” he greets with a cheerful smile. He quickly notices the woman beside her and introduces himself as Harry, a friend of Y/N’s. 
“My mum, Reina,” Y/N tells him.
Harry grins, “I see the resemblance. We know Y/N will look just as amazing as you in the future.” 
Reina can’t stop smiling, “dear, you didn’t tell me how cheeky this one is.” 
“He’s a flirt, Mumma. Nothing is stopping him.” 
“Oi, you see what I have to deal with,” Harry teases. “I only flirt with pretty girls named Y/N.”
“And who’s from London,” her mum adds.
Harry points a finger at Reina before turning to look at Y/N, “I like her. I really do.”
“Keep her,” Y/N tells him. “I can only take so much teasing.” 
“Oh, darling. You can never get rid of me.” 
Harry throws a hand over her shoulder, bringing her close to his side. “Like you too much to go through life without you.” Y/N rolls her eyes, but her Mumma can see how flustered she has become. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet my Mum and sister. They were set to arrive any minute now.” 
It’s Y/N's turn to perk up, “your Mum’s here.” 
Harry feels his heart swell at her excitement to meet his mother. He has no idea what he and Y/N are, but they’re certainly more than friends.
+
Y/N spent the entire afternoon chatting with Anne and Gemma. She didn’t mean to monopolize her time, but Anne would keep the conversation going, and Y/N was enjoying it too much to remember she had a different job to do. 
“Y/N, babe, we’ve got sound check,” Felix interrupted, apologizing to Anne.
Harry slipped into the spot next to Anne, “yeah, Y/N, leave my mum alone and go work.”
Before Y/N could rebuttal, Anne slapped his knee lightly, chastising him to be polite. Harry winked in Y/N’s direction. She excused herself and promised Anne she’d see her around for the next few days. Y/N walked out to find the band waiting for her. Y/N looked back one last time to check in on her mother and was happy to see her wrapped up in a conversation with Pauli and Mitch. 
Quinn smirked when she made her way towards them. “Take it your mother-in-law likes you.” 
Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She slapped his shoulder, telling him to shut up. 
“Wembley, Wembley, I don’t know if you know this, but London is where I grew up. So, boss man, these are all my hometown shows, too.” Y/N laughed when the crowd cheered. “My mom took me to concerts with her because she preferred to take me with her to create these beautiful memories together instead of me staying home with a relative. So, if you enjoy my music and are happy I pursued this dream, you can thank Reina. Mum, you’re my best friend and my number one supporter. Thank you for everything. I love you.” 
Y/N turned to see the screens where her mother was shown wiping her tears and blowing kisses to the screen. Y/N saw Tiffany reach over and give her a cuddle and knew she’d be in trouble for making her cry, but it was worth it. 
“My name is Y/N, and it’s been a pleasure playing for you. Here’s one last song. Good night, Wembley. You’re in for a hell of a show with Harry Styles, I promise.” 
Y/N ran off stage and straight into the arms of the first person she saw, which happened to be Harry. While she didn’t see him before going on stage because he had been out cheering on Madi, he was now looking at her proudly. Harry spun her around, and all Y/N wanted to do was reach down and give him a kiss. It took everything in her not to do it, especially when surrounded by hundreds of people.
 “You were amazing,” he breathed as he set her down.
“They’re fucking amazing,” Y/N told him, pointing out to the crowd. Y/N rambled on about how the crowd was like no other, that the energy they brought was nothing she had ever felt. “I didn’t want to leave the stage.”
Harry laughs loudly, “should have stayed there think I could have watched you all night.” 
“Awe, afraid you can’t surpass my amazingness,” she playfully mocks, knowing very well he’d knock this out of the park. Harry made a sold-out stadium feel like the most intimate show each night. 
Harry can’t stop looking away from her beaming face. It brings him so much joy to see her like this each night. All he wants to do is celebrate with her, showering her with kisses and telling her how proud he is of her. Instead, he lets her go and tells her he'll see her at the end of the night. There would be no late-night talks tonight as they’d be going to their respective home. “Best of luck, H.” 
He watches her walk away and mentally prepares for his first night of four in Wembley. 
+
Wembley had been perfect each night. His family and Y/N are getting on swimmingly. He hoped for it, but seeing it in person gave him hope that he and Y/N could pursue something. With a day off in between, he was back. He knew the end of the tour was nearing, and his time with Y/N was limited, but watching her on stage each night stopped him from doing anything because he preferred to have her as a friend rather than nothing at all.
Y/N was in a red skirt tonight with a white top with embezzled cherries scattered around. He remembered her mentioning it was his saddest song. It’s not one he would sing again, but he wondered if she was ever in his show's audience to hear it live. The ribbons were cherry red and long. Slowly, as she danced around, they were coming undone. One moment, she was in front of the stage, and the next, she was dancing her way down his long catwalk. She usually kept to the stage but used more and more over time. Tonight, she sang an entire song to his fans, who sang her songs right back to her. Harry knew having Y/N as an opener would be nice, but it’s nothing he ever imagined.
“Wembley, I know you didn’t come here to see me, but thank you to those who sang along. I have one last song, and soon enough, the man of the hour will grace you with his presence. A thank you to my wonderful band. They truly are my best friends. Give it up for Quinny Quinn Quinn on bass. He truly loves all the edits you’ve tagged him in. There is Felix on guitar and the occasional tambourine. Felix always has a new hair color and keeps us whole. Lastly, this band’s hero is Junie. Junie loves the drums and loves me the most,” Y/N teases as Quinn rolls his eyes at her. “Alright, this is–for me?” Y/N asks confused. She bends down, and the security hands her the bouquet of flowers. It’s a mix of pinks and yellows. It makes her tear up. “You sure?” The fan nods, telling her she brought them specially for her. Y/N holds them close to her chest. “I love you. This has made my entire night.” Y/N shows them off to her bandmates, who are all awed by the kind gesture. She places them by her water so she doesn’t forget them. “Alright, one last thank you to you all. This is the Band and I. Good night, Wembley. I love you!”
She hurries off stage with her bouquet in hand. June commented it was a kind gesture. It reminded Y/N how fans travel to see their artist live in concert. Y/N knows she had a sold-out tour when she finished Love on tour, and while it won’t start for a few months, this time is something she won’t ever forget. She’s grateful for the experience, grateful she gets to observe how the crew is treated, and how much comradery there is on this tour. She’s heard the stories of friendship blossoming. It’s beautiful, and now that she’s gotten a glimpse, she’s happy to be a part of but something she wants to take forward with her.
Y/N drops off her flowers and goes in search of Harry. 
Y/N likes Harry. 
She likes spending time with him and likes to sit in silence with him, but mostly, she likes hearing him talk and tell stories. Y/N has never felt at peace with a partner or felt the infamous belly full of butterflies, but she feels them both with Harry. She doesn’t even know when she began falling. All she knows is that she’s ready to tell Harry.
While she wants to share how she feels, she’s mostly dying to kiss him. Their tension is thick, and Y/N is ready to cut through it. She did not think Love on Tour would bring her love, but after hearing Mitch and Sarah’s story, she knows anything is possible and that Harry loves playing matchmaker. He’s a big romantic, which is something everyone has told her. 
She finds him in the piano room, playing an all too familiar melody. “You know, some would call that plagiarism.”  
Harry’s hands fall away from the keys, but he doesn’t turn to look at her. “It’s my favorite song.” 
“Not even released. I barely named it,” she tells him truthfully. 
He shrugs, “special enough to me.”
“Should have named it Harry’s song instead.” 
That gets him a look; his cheeks are red from her comment, and it settles Y/N’s nerves. Harry stands up, and she knows he wants to hug her. While she usually is eager to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she didn’t change coming off stage today and fears she might smell. “Think I might stink.”
Harry rolls his eyes, “stop it and get in here.” 
It is no use fighting it when she only wants to be in his arms. Y/N let herself melt against him, her hands resting around his waist.
“Quite incredible out there. Almost got jealous when you got handed those flowers.” 
Y/N smirks and pulls back the tiniest bit to see the pout on his lips. “Almost?”
Harry huffs out a sigh. “Fine, I did.” 
She grins, “There’s no need to.”
“Why’s that?” 
“You’re the only person who’s got my eye,” she tells him honestly. 
Harry’s face turns red, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he pulls her in closer, resting his chin on her head. Y/N struggles to work up the courage to say those three words. She didn’t realize that the fear of rejection could win out when she really liked someone. 
She decides to go for it.
“Harry, will you do something for me if I ask?” 
“Only if you ask nicely,” he rebuttals.
Y/N pulls away from him, and he lets her. Her hands stay rooted on his waist, letting him know she doesn’t want him to go far.
“Kiss me, please,” Y/N whispers out into the room. Harry was shocked at her request. He stayed staring at her, unsure if he had misheard, but Y/N repeated herself one more time. “Will you please kiss me?” 
He had been waiting for this moment when everything would shift for them, and now that it was here, he was overwhelmed. Harry wanted to kiss her but didn’t know what it would mean for her because he knew what it meant to him. There was a part of him that knew how she felt, but he was dying to hear it.
Instead of questioning it, Harry decides to lean in Y/N, lifting her head to allow their lips to touch, but Harry keeps just enough distance between them to see if she really wants this. Harry lets their lips brush, leaving the ball in her court. He was tempted to go all in but needed to know she wanted him. Y/N was in a daze; she had never felt like she could pass out from a simple touch, but with Harry, it had been like that from the start, from small touches to holding hands. Y/N knew precisely what he was doing and knew exactly what she wanted. 
Y/N connected their lips, and she felt fireworks go off. She doesn’t know why she stayed away for so long. Now, she never wants to go without him. Harry raises his hands to cup her face, taking control of the kiss. It is gentle and full of care. She never wanted it to end, and it seemed neither did Harry. Harry was getting lost in the taste of Y/N. He knew he didn’t care what happened as long as he got to keep her in the end. 
He pulled away breathless, but Y/N pulled him back in for another kiss before he could say anything. It went on for what felt like hours but could have only been a few minutes. There was a loud pounding on the door that made the spring apart. Y/N gazed at his swollen lips and knew she must look the same, if not worse. 
“Y/N–” He shakes his head, not able to wrap everything around his head
“Shh…” Y/N doesn’t want this moment to end, although she knows it must. “We’ll talk later, I promise.” 
Harry frowns. He doesn’t want to give her the chance to change her mind and reject him. He wants her, simple as that. “But–”
“I promise I won’t change my mind. I’d tell you right now, but I wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night if I did.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” he confesses. 
Y/N chuckles and presses a final kiss to his lips. “I’ll be cheering you on, popstar.” 
Harry smirks, “dedicating tonight to you.”
“Menace.” 
The show is a beautiful success. Harry spots Y/N in the crowd tonight and spends too much time singing to her. Not that many fans pick up on it. He wouldn’t mind anyone finding out, but she’s all his right now. He runs off stage and straight into his dressing room. He’s got a car waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Y/N. His mom trails in, followed by Jeff and a few others. Harry keeps his door open to keep an eye on her. Harry packs up a few of his belongings, knowing he’ll return tomorrow for a final night. Harry is listening to Jeff drone on about tomorrow and the surprises he has planned when he catches sight of Y/N’s purple bow breezing by. He doesn’t even apologize to Jeff; he runs out after her. 
“Y/N!” He calls out.
Y/N stops and smiles. “Hi you! Nice job out there.” 
Harry blushes because, as confident as he was on stage dancing for her, there’s a difference between being dressed down and having his crush tell him he did amazing on stage. It means everything knowing she enjoys the shows each night. Harry loves seeing her sing on stage each night and is thankful he gets to enjoy it for a few more weeks. 
“I–I’ve got to get going but wanted to see you.” 
Y/N reaches up and cups his cheek. Harry leans into her touch, neither caring if someone spots them nor knowing they are in safe hands with the crew around them. “I hope you have a good night. I’ll see you here tomorrow, ready for one final show. I hear it’s going to be the best one yet.” 
“Is there something you want to see me play?” 
Y/N offers him a soft smile, shaking her head. “All I want is to see you happy on stage.” 
While the sentiment is appreciated, Harry knows her words will be on repeat as he falls asleep tonight. He wants to give her something special tomorrow. “I’ll find out your favorite song,” he promises. 
Y/N rolls her eyes. “H, I mean it. You being happy on stage is all I could ask for.”
Harry turns his head and kisses the palm of her hand. “I’ll figure it out, sweetheart.” 
She stares at him lovingly, knowing they both have to go and get a good night's rest. They’ll be apart for a few hours, and tomorrow, be back together to share a few more kisses. 
“Good night, you.” 
Harry leans in and kisses her cheek. “Night, sweetheart.” 
+
The final night at Wembley had arrived, and she was ready. Y/N knew Harry had most of his family and friends here, which made her slightly nervous because she knew he would want her to meet them but also knew most of them wouldn’t show up for lil ol’ her as an opener. Y/N, when she arrived at the arena, was separated from her band and found at Harry’s side. Harry selfishly wanted her to stay with him; he even sneaked them off to a hidden corner of the stadium, where he kissed her breathless. He promised only a few minutes, which turned out to be thirty. Y/N showed up to her soundcheck with bruised lips and a wide smile. The band decided to tease her later when Harry wasn’t around, seeing they also had lots of questions. 
“Yo–you look gorgeous,” Harry expressed as he walked into her dressing room and saw her dressed in a black maxi dress with embroidered flowers instead of her signature mini skirt. 
Y/N did a twirl for him, “you like? My mum found it at this shop we love to visit together. Altered it to perfection. The extra fabric she used for my bows,” Y/N points out. Harry admires her loose curls, a massive bow holding half up in a messy updo. She looked effortlessly beautiful. 
“It’s wonderful.”
“I got a wardrobe upgrade for the next few weeks. Leaving a lot at home and packing a ton of new outfits. Think it’s time to play dress up,” Y/N laughs, knowing she will have a fun time and lots of new looks to explore. 
“Can you dance in it?” 
Y/N smirks, “don’t worry, Felix made me practice shaking my ass already.”
“Oh darn,” he jokes. “Have a lovely show.”
Harry brings her in for a hug, and Y/N sags against him, loving the comfort he brings her. As she goes to pull away, Harry leans in for a kiss but waits for her permission; with a simple nod, he connects their lips and captures her heart. The kiss is perfect. It’s slow and gentle but filled with passion and yearning. Yearning for more time together, longing for all they have yet to explore. Harry backs away, his lips shining from her strawberry lip gloss. 
With a final wave, he’s gone, and Y/N takes the stage.
“Welcome to the final night of Wembley! Promise you’re in for a hell of a show. I-I’ve never been happier.” Y/N thinks back to minutes before she walked on stage and knows her words have never been more accurate. “Let’s dance!” 
The show passes in a breeze, and before she knows it, she’s reached the end of her set, having one final song left to perform. She never seems to feel time passing when she’s on stage. While Y/N loves playing for Harry’s fans, she’s excited to get back on the road for herself soon enough. 
“Wembley, Wembley. You are a beautiful crowd. I’ve got one last song for you.” The crowd cheers. “Ouch,” she feigns hurt, placing a hand over her heart. “I won’t take offense only because I’m also excited for Harry.” Y/N steps towards the stage with her microphone. “Thank you for receiving me with open arms, Wembley. I love performing and singing all my songs for you. I hope you come out to a show of mine in the future. It would be lovely to see familiar faces in the crowd. Before I continue, there are some people I need to thank. My mum Reina is in the crowd.” Y/N cheers when the crowd screams and chants for her mother. “She’s going to love that. There is someone special who is not here but has a special place in my heart and made me fall in love with singing: my Dad. While it feels like it has always been my mum and I, he’s never forgotten. My mom gave me all his records and always played music he loved. It led me to finding my dream and making it come true. Mumma, thank you for everything. I love you. Lastly, Harry Styles, it has been my greatest honor to join you on tour, but tonight, I feel extra thankful to be here with you. You’ve become a great inspiration throughout this tour, and I’m grateful for you.” 
Y/N wipes her tears, laughing to herself for getting emotional. One last song to sing. She looks at the sky and whispers, “this is for you, Pops.” When she finishes, Y/N blows kisses to the crowd and rushes off stage and straight into her mother’s waiting arms. 
“He would be so proud,” Reina whispers, making Y/N shed a few more tears. “I’m proud of you, my angel.” 
Y/N squeezes her mother tighter. “Thanks, Mumma.” After her mother finishes showering her in kisses, Y/N heads to her dressing room, wanting to change and shower, except when she walks in, she finds Harry reading her lyric journal. 
“Harry?” She looks at him, confused. 
He stands up quickly, setting the book down on the couch. “I-I didn’t mean to. But it was flipped open to 
‘Right Now’ it’s the song you played me on the piano. I still shouldn’t have done it, but I was curious. I–I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?” 
Y/N wishes he wasn’t so panicked. “It’s okay. I think you’ve heard all about these songs. Very comfortable with you reading it. Only June gets a kick at reading the notebook. Think she left it out.” 
Harry sighs. She opens her arms for him, and he falls right in. “You were wonderful! Love seeing you so happy,” he mutters. 
“Special crowd. Don’t know if it’s possible, but it feels like there's more people than the other nights,” she confesses. She wouldn't be surprised if that was the truth; fans sneaking into the pit are much more common when workers are distracted, even if they try their best. 
He laughs, “guess we’ll see, all I know is tonight will be special.”
Y/N enjoyed this downtime with Harry. While they knew a conversation was waiting to happen, they simply chose to enjoy this final night in London before continuing on the road for the next few weeks. Y/N knew how she felt, but this was not the time or place to have this discussion. It’s one she would be waiting for in the days to come.
“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Got a surprise for tonight.” Harry stole a kiss and backed away from her. Y/N could see a twinkle in his eye and knew he had found her favorite song. Y/N knows he went to her Mum. She was the only one who knew. While ‘Fine Line’ was special and he played it every night, she wondered if he would play it for her. 
Y/N doesn’t always watch the show in the audience; sometimes, she is side-stage dancing with Felix and playing air guitar. Then there are times they’re in the green room eating while watching Harry play through the TV in their room, but tonight, Y/N joins his family and watches from the right side of the stage. Anne said they’re close enough that he can spot them but not enough to distract him. For the last week here, Y/N had met most of his friends and family; there would even be a celebration at the end of the night where more people would attend. Y/N knew Harry would be the man of the hour and had decided she’d hang for an hour before heading home. While she selfishly wanted to monopolize all his time, Y/N knew she couldn’t. She’d see him on their flight to Wales in a few days.
“He’s got quite a big crush on you,” Gemma nudges her shoulder. “I would know I’m his older sister.” 
Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Then I’ll have to take your word for it.” 
“My brother’s a shy guy. When he’s onstage, he shines so bright, but when he walks off, he’s back to being my shy brother who, for the life of me, is awful at starting conversations. He cares so much for everyone in his life. Once you’re in, you have a friend with him for life.” Gemma tells Y/N, and she knows it’s as much a welcoming as it is a warning. 
“I-I think he’s amazing. Fuck, I’ve kept a distance for a while only because I wasn’t certain if he was genuine. But repeatedly, he proves to go above and beyond for anyone. Being home puts many things in perspective for me,” Y/N sighs and offers Gemma a timid smile. “I’d be lucky to be given any relationship with Harry.” 
Gemma’s laugh rings loud, causing their mums to look over at them, but Gemma waves them off. Gemma links her arm with Y/N and declares them dance partners for the night. “You’re a good person, I can tell. And even if I couldn't, my mum could, she adores you already. Think she plays your music more than Harry.”
Y/N gasps in surprise, “please tell me Harry knows!” Gemma shakes her head. “Oh my gosh, he said I write sad music.” 
“Well, he writes horny pop songs,” Gemma chips in.
Y/N falls into a fit of giggles, “he does!” 
“You write rock mixed with sadness and a few pop influences.”
Y/N feels her face heat up, knowing Gemma is clearly a fan of her music. It always overwhelms her, but knowing that Gemma, Harry’s sister, enjoys her music is a big win for her. It brings her a lot of joy. Y/N always had an easy time conversing with people, but she feared making relationships and connections. It’s a reason her circle is tight-knit, but chatting with Gemma makes her hope that a new friendship could start here. 
The night is spent dancing and singing at the top of their lungs or as loud as Y/N knows she’s allowed without messing up her voice. After Mitch’s incredible solo for ‘She,’ Harry walked to the middle of the catwalk with the ladies of his band. It seemed as if every fan knew what song was coming as Y/N saw friends embrace each other. Y/N walked over to her mother, knowing her Mumma related a little too closely to the song. However, the familiar notes to ‘Matilda didn’t start; instead, it was a soft guitar intro. Reina pulled Y/N tight into her arms. This was the surprise Harry had mentioned. 
Harry finds his mum and sister hugging as he sings, but he keeps searching until his eyes land on Y/N, who is being embraced by her mother as she sings along to every word of “Sweet Creature” while Harry has no idea what this song means to her, she knows what it means to him and his sister. There are many ways to interpret his songs, and he’s glad Y/N connected with this one. He’s happy he could give Y/N and her mother this moment for it to become theirs.
It’s hard keeping his emotions under control for the entire show, but he does his best. He remembers to thank his family and promises Wembley he’ll see them soon. When Harry runs off the stage that night, he knows he left his heart out there for every single person. It’s something he knows he is going to get back with a lot more love-filled into it. 
There is a celebration that Jeff hosted for everyone wanting a perfect end to four sold-out nights in the city that changed his life and has now become his home. Harry sees his crew mingling. He sees Y/N’s band mixing with his band. It’s nice to see how connected everyone has become over the last few months. The person he is searching for is talking to Glenne. He sees them laughing, and as he makes his way over to them, he is intercepted by Ben, a long-time friend. Harry bounces around the room, converses with everyone, and occasionally drinks with them. Harry had managed to keep an eye on Y/N all night until he was saying goodbye to someone, and when he turned back, he could no longer spot Y/N. Harry knows he’ll see her soon and has her number to call her, but he really wanted to hear her thoughts about tonight’s show.
Harry pulls out his phone to call her when he finds a text from her. 
Y/N
Thank you for the surprise. Tonight truly was magical. 
Did you enjoy the rain? Think the heavens opened up from how emotional you made everyone. I’ll see you soon. Give me a call tomorrow. xx
He pockets his phone with a smile and knows what he has with Y/N is good, and he’ll do everything in his power to make her happy for a long time. 
In Wales, Y/N and Harry did not go a moment apart as if they had become each other’s shadows. Where one went, the other followed. No one questioned it because it was bound for something to happen, but what happened? No one knew. Y/N and Harry shared kisses behind closed doors, and it was theirs. It was the time to brush everything away and simply be together.
Belgium came much too soon, and there is something Harry has been meaning to ask. He’s lying on Y/N’s hotel bed, knowing they have a few days before their show, and Harry’s dying to take Y/N out on a date. 
“Sweetheart,” Harry calls out for her. 
“In a minute.” 
She walks out of the bathroom a minute later, her skincare finished for the night. They had arrived a few hours ago, and Harry quickly approached her. 
“Beautiful.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t stop her face from heating up at the compliment. “Sweet talker.���
“Only yours,” Harry sing-songs. 
She lies down with him. “Any big plans in Belgium, H?”
“A sold-out show,” he teases. 
“Well, obviously.” She plays with a loose thread on her shirt. “Meant sightseeing.”
Harry shrugs and scoots closer, reaching down to take her hand in his. “Not really sure. Thought sleeping would be a good start.” 
“Don’t be silly. You and Brad love an early morning workout.” 
Harry reaches out and pokes her nose, making her scrunch her face in surprise. “No need to be jealous. Early days with Brad mean free days with you, sweets.” 
He had a point. Y/N deflates because while Belgium is famously known for its waffles, she doesn’t want to explore alone. She also knows it is harder for Harry to simply be out. “It’s simply we have time to explore cities I’ve never visited before, and while I selfishly want to ask you to roam the city with me, I know it’s not possible.” 
“Hey,” he speaks softly. Her hand stays cradled to his chest, all his attention Y/N. His eyes say everything he hasn’t voiced yet. “We can walk around any city aimlessly. You don’t have to worry about anything else.” 
“Harry,” she breathes out. “You–”
“Why can’t I? Simply because others will look or because I’m this big name. Don’t I deserve the same respect as others to simply be.” 
“You do. Of course, you do.” 
“Then, don’t worry about anything else. I promise I will be there if you ask me to be somewhere or want to go to a chocolate-making class.” Harry’s words fill her with hope. Hope that whatever this is will turn into something more, something special.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I-I don’t want to go to a chocolate class.” 
Harry falls into a fit of giggles, leaning in close to press kisses to her cheeks, not caring that she tries to push him away because he knows she likes it, knows she craves his touch as much as he does hers. “Would you go on a date with me, Y/N?” 
Y/N freezes, not having expected him to ask her. She always kept it at the back of her mind, but now he’s here asking for more. “A date?” She repeats. “With me?”
Harry’s laugh rings loud, “you’re kind of who I’m asking.” 
She wants to blurt out yes, it’s on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it back. Instead, he thinks about it for a second, wanting to make Harry sweat for a second. “I’d like that.” 
“Tomorrow? I can plan a whole day out for us.” 
Y/N breaks out a huge smile; dates usually last an hour or two, but she has Harry wanting to spend the entire day with her. She knows this is unconventional and that they have already spent so much time together that it will now only be outside the four walls of a hotel room.
“Tomorrow is perfect,” she agrees. 
Harry bids her goodnight and promises to be here at eight with a coffee for her to start the day. 
True to his word, the following morning, Harry is there with two cups of coffee and a paper bag. The smell of fresh bread reaches her, and Y/N knows this is a fantastic start. Harry leads them out of the hotel room and onto the street, promising walking would be better. 
Making it to their first destination, it’s a Botanical Garden, and Y/N practically shines with happiness. From the moment they walk in, they are met with blooming plants. They find out it’s pretty empty, not many people picking a garden for their first visit of the day. Y/N roams around, with Harry trailing close behind. She doesn’t realize Harry is taking photos of her every few minutes. Harry wanted to capture the entire day, and seeing her beauty through his eyes was something to behold.
“H, come on!” Y/N turns to him with a stretched-out hand, and he’d be a fool not to take it. They spend a few hours roaming around, stopping to take pictures and sitting on benches as they take in all the beauty, never letting go of each other’s hands. 
Y/N knew it was always easy with Harry, but she let every touch linger a bit longer in this new context of being on a date. Harry told her it was time for the next destination, and while she didn’t know what it was, she knew the day would only get better. 
“Did you know fries are actually Belgian and not French?” Harry tells Y/N as they share a small plate outside a shop. 
Y/N chews a fry, tilting her head, thinking his words over. “Weird to call them French.” 
It turns out Harry had no real plan for them besides the gardens, but was too worried to tell Y/N. She laughed and promised him she didn’t mind. Spending time with him was more than enough. Aimlessly walking is her favorite pastime when she’s in a new city, but doing it here with Harry, she knows it will never be the same again. 
They walked in and out of shops for the next few hours, laughing at shared stories and buying knickknacks for family members. Harry dragged Y/N into a chocolate shop, where the worker was kind enough to offer them samples. After buying too much, Y/N promised to share it with the crew. It was too good for them not to share.
After some time, Harry pulled Y/N to sit on a bench with him. It gave them a beautiful view of the sun that was beginning to set. They sat in silence for a while, comfortable enough to enjoy each other’s company without saying anything. 
“Did you know I once wrote a song about Rapunzel?”
“The princess?” Harry asks. 
“Mhm…I loved the film, and I thought Rapunzel had lost so much time being trapped that, being free, she didn’t know where to start. It was not my best.” 
Harry nudges her shoulder, “doubt that.” 
She shrugs, “who knows, maybe it was amazing, but I’ll never know, never thought to record it.” 
“What made you want to pursue music?” Harry asks. He has her hand in his lap, twisting the ring she wears on her pinky finger with her father’s initials. 
Her father comes to mind, “I was really young when we lost my dad. He loved music; he was the type to love it all, from Metal to pop to Spanish. He worked as a producer exclusively in London and with close artists, he had never wanted anything to take him from home. He loved my mum too much to ever want to part with her for long. My dad always had music playing. My mum said it was the first thing I reacted to when she was pregnant with me. By the time I was born, music lulled me to sleep and was the first thing I heard when I woke up. By the time we lost him, my Mumma played his records to keep his memory alive. She only bought new ones on his birthday and anniversary. I didn’t realize until I was much older that it also connected them.” Y/N pauses to send Harry a smile, and he answers by squeezing her hand. “My mum knew I had a good pair of lungs during my theater days and pushed me to pursue more if I wanted. I taught myself guitar and took piano lessons because I wanted to improve. It wasn’t always easy, but I loved learning, so it only motivated me. I wanted to share music because I wanted to connect with others and proudly say I’m doing that.” Y/N feels overwhelmed but is happy she shared this with Harry. She can’t remember the last time she was this honest with anyone. 
“Thank you, Y/N.” Harry kisses her cheek. “I-I love seeing you on stage. You radiate this energy that—” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but it makes you want to be part of it. I think you’re one of the most amazing songwriters we have in our generation.” 
“Harry,” she shakes her head to get him to stop, but it urges him on.
“I mean it. You’re incredible, and I’ll forever scream it from the rooftops if you want me to.” 
Y/N feels her face flush and turns to pull Harry in for a hug. She breathes him in for a long moment, “I–thank you.”
After the sunset, they walk back to their hotel. They linger outside Y/N’s door, not ready to say goodbye even after a long day together. 
“We–”
“I–”
“You first,” they reply in unison. 
Harry gestures for her to go first. 
“I was going to say if you want, we can freshen up and have dinner in my room, maybe watch a movie,” she asks nervously.
He nods eagerly, “yes, please.” 
“Good, good. Say an hour?” 
“Perfect.” 
Harry lets her open her hotel room, but before she can wave goodbye, he pushes her against the entrance and leans in to kiss her. Y/N sighs against his lips. She has wanted to do all this all day. His hands hold her waist firmly while Y/N fists his shirt to keep him close. 
Y/N pulls back to catch her breath, “been wanting to do that all day.” 
Harry smirks, “well, here’s another one.” 
His lips are soft, but the kiss is fast and needy. There has been a build-up to this moment all day. Y/N lets him guide her as he explores her mouth. She moans as he nips her bottom lip. Y/N pulls him closer, needing to feel him against her. She’s so lost in the kiss she jumps back in surprise when the door slams shut. Harry rests his forehead against hers, his breath heavy. “Maybe not the smartest thing we’ve done.” 
Y/N bites her lip, “probably not.” 
Harry thumbs at her bottom lip, and she releases it. “Please stop, or I’m going to kiss you again.” 
“I don’t mind,” she confesses. 
“Y/N,” Harry groans. “I’m going to go.” 
“But you’ll be back?” She asks softly. 
“In an hour,” he assures her. “Pick a movie for us.”
“Bye Harry.” 
Harry kisses her cheek, knowing that if he gets another taste of her, it will lead to more kissing, which they clearly do not want to rush. “Bye, sweetheart.”
Y/N shuts the door behind him, a large grin on her face. She’s falling hard, and she’s falling fast. 
+
“Vienna is probably one of the most beautiful songs ever created,” June tells Y/N, who’s lying on the floor of Harry’s stage. “The beauty of getting older.” 
“June, you hated that song when you were younger,” Quinn chimes in.
“Am I not allowed to change my opinion?” She yells. Quinn simply puts his hands up, deciding it is not worth defending. 
“City of Music is nothing I thought it would be,” Felix shares.
“What were you expecting?” Y/N asks curiously.
Felix laughs, “definitely fewer parks.” 
“Oi, is this what we pay you to do?” Harry shouts as he walks over to them dressed in blue jeans and a “Pleasing” sweater. 
“Y/N, save us, please!” They all collectively yell. 
Harry snickers at her, knowing they might not have told anyone about the dates they’ve been having in every city that usually end in one of them staying the night in the other’s room. It started off with neither of them wanting to say goodnight. Harry laid on her blankets while she tucked herself, holding hands; they dozed off to sleep. It was a no-brainer after that because they both enjoyed waking up to one another. Nothing goes on except a bit of kissing. She can’t say she hasn’t been craving something more but knows there is no need to rush her time with Harry. 
“It’s chisme time,” Y/N tells him. “Anything to share.” 
“I love Gossip.” Harry takes a seat next to Y/N, leaving not a single space between them. “Did you know we’re not having soup for lunch?” 
Everyone collectively groans, “banished, you’re no longer welcome,” Quinn shooed him away. 
“Hey now, I got a better one,” Harry leans in closer. He glances at Y/N before telling the others to get close, leaving Y/N out of their makeshift circle.
Y/N sits back, relaxed; with Harry, there is no need to worry about anything. June and Felix lean back, “Oh,” at the news while Quinn looks confused. He looks at Y/N, then back to Harry, then again to Y/N. 
“Lies. Not real. She doesn’t have the game,” Quinn says while looking at her. 
While Y/N has no idea what Harry whispered to them, June’s grin says it all. She knows it has to do with the dates they’ve been going on. Y/N had mentioned she liked Harry, but they all assumed she would do nothing about it.
“H, what did you do? It seems like they’re broken now.” Y/N points out to her two loudest bandmates, who have not said a single word, and Quinn, who has started to pace around on stage. 
Harry leans back on his arms as he takes in the scene before him. “Simply told them I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Had no idea you were keeping me as your dirty little secret.” 
Y/N quickly shakes her head, “no, never, it’s ju—” she cuts herself off, seeing that his dimples are on display and not an ounce of sadness or pain. “You’re annoying.”
“But you like me!” 
“Whatever.”
“You brushed of my question.”
“More like a statement,” she rebuttals. “Clearly not how you’re going to ask me.” 
Harry sends her a cheeky wink, “course not.” 
“Then you’ll have to wait for my answer until then. Now shoo, I’ve got to rehearse and answer all their dumb questions.” 
Harry kissed her cheek with a loud “muah” and promised to head to her room tonight. 
There was a sense of anxiety that had been with Y/N all day. Harry had made a bold statement tonight, and she wondered if he did it to give her the time to see if that was what she wanted. Harry was not like someone she had ever been with. She never had to speak on her emotions; she always went with the flow, but Harry is giving her the choice here. Y/N is nowhere near ready for the conversation, and it seems Harry knows because when he arrives in her room and sees the stress in her eyes, he takes her in his arms and tells her it’s time for bed. 
Harry takes a shower while Y/N changes into an old tour shirt and boxers. Harry enters the bedroom to find her lying in the middle of the king-sized bed. 
“You look adorable.” 
“Cute enough for cuddles?” 
Harry laughs, “always.” 
He makes his way to her after double-checking the lock on her door and ensuring his phone is off. He lifts the blankets and settles behind Y/N, his hands slipping under her shirt and pulling her towards him. Y/N sighs and melts against him. 
“There’s no pressure to have this conversation. I want you to know where I stand. I know I might not have gone about it the best way, but I want you to know you have as much control over this relationship as I do.”
With Harry’s reassuring words, Y/N felt at ease. She knew she was overthinking everything, but Harry understood her like no one else had.
“I like you, Harry,” she confessed. “I like you a lot. I-I-how you manage to always have the right words escapes me, but I’m thankful. I like you, and I like where this is going.”
Harry squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I like you too. Promise, I’m sticking around.” 
Y/N knows she’s lucky to have Harry. 
+
“¡Hola Barcelona! Yo me llamo Y/N, gracias por acompañarnos esta noche.” The crowd cheers after hearing her Spanish. “I know, right, pretty good. My grandpa taught me a living legend he still is. Think he’ll be proud. Let’s have some fun tonight.” 
Y/N, as soon as she gets off stage, feels a heaviness in her heart because, after tonight, there are only three shows left. It means not seeing her friends and the new friends she has made for a long time. Y/N is jumping straight into a tour in two months, meaning she’s got to start rehearsals in a month. While she doesn’t know what comes next, she does hope to finish her album before she heads out on tour. Harry had accompanied her to the studio, and even Mitch had tagged along, wanting to see her process. It led to them playing guitar in a few of her songs. These memories she’s made throughout this tour will live within her new album. 
Y/N didn’t know how much her life would change by accepting to be Harry’s opening act. She knows she should bask in the happiness while she can, but the reminder lingers in her mind. Y/N finds Harry and is not surprised to find him with Mitch. They’re speaking about Mitch’s album while Sarah is lying on the couch with her son, who’s napping. There has been so much to happen since this tour started, and Y/N never gets tired of hearing the stories. 
“Dinner?” Harry raises his head when he hears her voice. Mitch waves at her but doesn’t offer her a word; instead focuses on Sarah. 
Harry rushes over to her, wrapping her in a hug. “Promise I watched. Mitch stole me away quickly.”
Y/N laughs. Harry not watching didn’t even cross her mind. “You’re fine. Wouldn’t blame you, boring for you with the same ol’ setlist each night.”
“Hey now,” Harry defends. “That’s my favorite singer, you're insulting.” 
“Oh, Stevie Nicks is not going to like that,” Mitch comments.
“Wanker!” Harry gives Mitch the middle finger and guides them to get soup, Harry’s favorite food, before a show. It’s known to settle his nerves. 
“That’s okay, Hozier is mine,” Y/N chirps, sharing a laugh with Mitch.
“Irish tend to be superior,” Mitch agrees. 
Harry walks out with Y/N, sending Mitch a wave. Harry walked them to his green room, requesting his soup and Y/N’s sandwich to be sent. She told him she’d pick it up, but Harry shared he wanted a minute alone with her. Y/N hadn’t technically been with Harry long; it’s only been two weeks, give or take a few hours, but she’d known him for months. There was no need to talk as Y/N settled on the couch with him. She felt tired after her set, all the adrenaline gone. Harry asked her for dinner, and then she’d watch Harry from her dressing room with the rest of her band. The final days were approaching, and Y/N knew she’d prepare to say goodbye to them, too, even if it was for a few weeks. 
They settled in the silence, no need for conversation. Y/N was content to be wrapped in Harry’s arms as he closed his eyes, breathing her in. Y/N had not let herself think about the end of the tour because she wanted to enjoy every moment, and now, with the end so close, she honestly never pictured herself falling in love with Harry. She knows she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She had him and would protect this relationship for as long as she was allowed to have him and even long after.  
After a successful show, Harry came to sleep in Y/N’s room with the promise he wanted to be close to her. Y/N was not one to deny him of any request, not when he kept her safe. Y/N woke up feeling too warm with Harry’s hand flat against her warm skin. He loved physical touch and kept his hold on her even in his sleep. Y/N shimmied behind him but stopped when she felt how hard he was. She knew it was normal, but a part of her wanted to take care of it and take the next step with him. 
“Baby, you got to stop moving,” Harry groaned in her ear. Y/N paused, thinking he might not be on the same page but as if he could read her mind, “unless you want me to take care of you.” 
Y/N stayed frozen because her mind was running wild on the possibilities that could happen. She had dreamed about Harry taking care of her, but now, making it happen, Y/N was at a loss for words. 
Harry turned Y/N, making her lay on her back, and he shifted above her with a gentle smile. “Morning, pretty girl.”
“Morning,” she breathed out. 
Y/N knew she didn’t look her best, with tired eyes and crazy hair, not even mentioning she hadn’t brushed her teeth, but by the way, Harry was gazing at her, it was clear he wasn’t thinking the same. 
“You’re beautiful. Thought you were a figment of my imagination, but here you are, spread out under me.”
She feels her face heat up, loving how warm his words make her feel. 
“Tell me what you want. I’ll give you whatever you ask for.” She knows he means it. He’s a giver. It’s what brings him the most joy. 
“Want you to touch me,” she spoke softly. 
Harry kneeled over her, careful not to let his entire body sit on her. He ran his fingers up her arm, biting back a smile at the goosebumps that raised over her body. Y/N’s breathing slowed down as her eyes never left his. “Where, baby?” 
Y/N shimmied, her face burning. She couldn’t, but she knew he’d continue to play with her if she didn't. His hands now tracing over her stomach and up to her breast. Y/N pushed against his hand, but he pulled away, tutting at her greediness. 
She didn’t have the words, but Y/N guided his hand, resting on her stomach to her wet pussy. Harry moaned when he felt how ready she was for him. “Here, baby. Need me here?” 
“Please, Harry. Need you to take care of me,” she begs. 
“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”
Consent had never felt so sexy. 
“Yes, please, Harry.” 
“You’re not wearing panties.” 
Y/N has to hold back a laugh because she is begging him to make her come, and he is focused on her having no panties. “I run hot, you know that.” 
He glided his fingers around her pussy, spreading around her wetness. She let out a needy moan when he slid his fingers inside her. The feel of her clenching around his fingers made him eager to add another. Harry loved seeing her like this. It made him want to give her everything. In and out, he moved his fingers inside her, rubbing and stroking her swollen lips. She laid their legs spread out, head back, taking it all. Harry knew she was close, but he was greedy for a taste. 
Harry lowered his mouth to her stomach, pushing her shirt up, allowing him to kiss her breasts before continuing down the path calling for him. He kissed along her thighs, and Y/N felt her breathing slow down. He continued with his slow kisses along her hips up to her belly and back down again. Sliding his hands under her ass, he pulled her closer.
“Oh baby, I need to taste you.” His warm breath tickled my skin as he lowered his mouth and bit into the inside of her thigh. Y/N let out a loud moan, urging him to continue. He kissed her repeatedly, knowing it would bruise. He was glad to mark her his. 
Y/N let out a soft cry as his tongue licked up her thigh. She needed everything as he moved closer to where she was ready for him. He slowly dragged his tongue through her folds. 
Fuck. 
“Harry, Harry,” she chanted his name. 
Y/N could only beg for more as Harry muttered something about how delicious she tasted. As he licked into her, he slid one finger into her as his thumb rubbed against her clit. In seconds, Y/N was lifting to meet each thrust of his finger. 
“You sound so beautiful with my name on your lips,” he dived back in. “Want me to make you mine?” 
“Yes,” Y/N moaned. “All yours. Only yours.” 
Y/N was writhing and wiggling anything to keep him pressed against her clit as his tongue thrust inside her. Everything was on fire; every nerve in her body was firing off. He slipped another finger, and Y/N exploded. It all became so much, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as she felt her orgasm rip through her. Y/N felt Harry slow down, lazily moving away from her, with no apparent rush in wanting to leave her. Harry slowly sits up; she sees hooded eyes, her eyes focused on the mess she’d made on his face. Harry raised his hand and slipped his wet fingers in his mouth, cleaning the last of her juices. Y/N knows they’d get going for a second round if he's not careful. 
“Let me kiss you,” she begged, her voice rough.
Harry ran a tongue over his lips, making a show of cleaning her off him, “not ready to share yet.” 
“Nasty,” she chastised before she leaned up, placing her hand on the back of his neck and pulling him for a heated kiss. “Will you come for me, Harry?” She mumbled against his lips. 
She pushed away, removing her shirt, throwing it to the side, and lying back, allowing him the view of her breasts, her nipples hard as she begged him to come. Harry slid down his briefs, and Y/N gasped at how beautiful he looked hard and thick because of her. Y/N reached for him, but Harry shook his head, a clear sign this would be quick. Harry wet his hand, moving it steadily up and down his base. Y/N was mesmerized. She played with her tits as he stroked himself, knowing he loved the show. 
“Come for me, Harry,” she purred. “Show me how good I helped make you feel. Show me how much you loved making me come. The feel of your tongue is something I never want to forget. How well you take care of me.”
“Fuck, baby. Didn’t know you could be so dirty.” 
“Promise to take you down my throat next time. Let you use me any way you want. Please, Harry, come for me.” 
That was all he needed for him to come on her skin. 
“You’re a dirty girl,” he comments.
Y/N winks, “only for you.” 
As they settled down from the high, Harry cleaned her up with an old shirt of his. They stayed cuddled on the large bed, sitting in silence. There was so much said between them, but they both knew they meant every word. It would be only up from here, even if only a few days were left. 
+
Y/N has enjoyed meeting new people, but this tour introduced her to new friends. Harry’s band is lovely and quite large; he has his main band, but during the disco medley, as he likes to call it, he brings out the horns. She found herself overtime making her way to their dressing room, watching them get ready for the night. Throughout her time on the tour, she earned her spot in their room as she watched them get ready before her set or after. 
Tonight was no different. Y/N was talking with Lorren and Parris about their plans after the tour. They shared they had shows lined up, but a break was the first thing they were looking forward to, and Y/N had to agree.
“Lorren, can I ask you something?” 
Lorren turned to Y/N with a bright smile, “well, of course.”
“Well, I was wondering if you could add stars to my face. Quite good at my eyeliner but shit at anything else,” Y/N confessed. 
Lorren looked thrilled. “Yes, please, yes. Thank you for asking.” Lorren stood up from her chair, giving it a pat for Y/N to make her way over. Lorren complimented Y/N’s skin and makeup, stating it was flawless. Y/N thought it better be she was religious with her skincare. She learned over time less was more and stuck with it. Sometimes, not even Y/N could escape her eyebags when she worked too long in the studio. 
She sat perfectly still for Lorren, continuing to talk to Kalia about her new musical release. It was something everyone had been waiting for; they were all incredibly proud. They segway to talking about Pauli, who, thanks to him, had brought them all on from the North America tour to right here in Lisbon and a final show in Italy. 
Y/N soon felt the room fall quiet. She got lost in her thoughts when a shutter made her snap her eyes open. It was only Georgia, her photographer, taking photos. “Scared me, Georgie.” 
Georgie laughed, “sorry, but you did tell me to capture everything.” 
Y/N wondered what she meant by that; before she could ask, Lorren declared her finished. She looked in the mirror and gasped at how perfectly they blended with the purple eyeshadow she used today. Y/N noticed Lorren added glitter to give it that extra glimmer. 
She hugged Lorren, thanking her over and over again. She would have continued if Georgie didn’t remind her she had to change. Y/N wished the room luck and rushed to her dressing room, where her outfit was laid out. 
One final look in the mirror, and Y/N’s ready to go. She walks out, happy to find Zahara, who came to celebrate the end of tour with her. “You made it!” Y/N cheers. 
Zahara wraps her in a hug. “No thanks to stupid United. Canceled my flight twice.”
Y/N winces, “don’t even want to imagine the conversation you had.” 
“It was not pretty,” Zahara shares. 
Y/N stands side stage with Zahara, chatting while Ash helps secure her mic pack while Zahara makes her promise not to do anything she wouldn’t do. Zahara doesn’t even know what she’s asking of her, especially because she has no idea who Y/N has been kissing behind closed doors. 
She rushes on stage; her signature mini skirt is back tonight, paired with a baby tee Harry ordered for her. It’s black and has bedazzled constellations all around, a big reason she asked Lorren for stars on her face. Y/N spent a large portion of her morning with Harry, thanking him for the gift. 
Harry watches Y/N sing her heart out to the crowd. This song Harry knows Y/N wrote when she was going through a bad breakup. While it hurts him to think about her with anyone else, he also knows he’s started to write endless songs about her and knows she’s done the same. Zahara greets him courtly, and he wonders if she knows. 
“Listen, Harry.” He steps closer, but Zahara never looks at him. “If you do anything–and I mean anything to smear her image, I’ll make you regret it. This girl has fought tooth and nail to be where she is.” Harry sees the fire in her eyes. “Y/N doesn’t open up easily, and I know you wormed your way in. You’re a good guy, but even a good person can break a heart. You know what it’s like to be talked about.”
Harry knows first hand how ruthless the media is. “I would never want that for her.” 
Zahara sighs, “I know. She’s special, and I think she’s proved that even more because of this opportunity you gave her.” 
“I-I- didn’t expect to fall for her,” Harry defends because he hadn’t, but one conversation with her, and there was no stopping it.
“She’s got that charm,” Zahara laughs. “Look at me here to watch her finish a tour when I’ve got so much to do. You’d do anything knowing you put that smile on her face.” 
Harry knows Zahara is right and goes back to watching Y/N. He can’t help it when he takes out his phone to record her because he wants to remember these moments of her on stage. He knows her setlist by heart and knows she’s got three songs left. What he doesn’t expect is for her to shoot a wink towards Zahara, and then they watch her jump off the stage. She makes it look effortless, but he’s worried and moves forward to try to stop her. Zahara shoots her arm out to stop him. “Slow down, rockstar. She’s got this.” 
“You’re okay with this?” 
“Oh, I’m furious,” she confesses, “but she did it with me in the audience, knowing I’d keep her safe.” 
Y/N walks through the barricade, serenading fans and security in front and behind her. It’s the only thing that brings him a bit of comfort. The cameras follow her around, showing her on the large screen, making him laugh because he can see how much she enjoys it. She walks the entire catwalk, hugging fans who are clearly there for her as much as they are for him. She reads a few signs, and by the time she returns to the stage, she has friendship bracelets lining her wrist, a shirt on her shoulder, and two bouquets of flowers. Y/N laughs in their direction, clearly noting the disbelief on both their faces. Y/N continues the show, giving 100% energy until she sings her final note.
She hurries off straight into Zahara’s open arms. While he can’t hear what Zahara is whispering to Y/N, he knows it has to be about him for her face to look flushed and not from her hour-long performance. Zahara pushed her towards Harry, who was waiting for his turn. Y/N settles in his embrace as he kisses her head repeatedly. “You’re mental, absolutely insane.” 
Y/N giggles against his chest, “how rude.” 
Harry puts his hands on her cheeks, pulling her back the slightest bit to get her to look at him. “You were brilliant! A shining star, you have the crowd in the palm of your hand.” Y/N’s smile shines at his words. 
“You’ve got lovely fans. They make it easy.” 
He holds back from kissing her but promises to see her later. 
Y/N watches him go, not caring that Zahara and the band will tease her endlessly for it. She doesn’t mind one bit. 
+
“I’ve been on tour with one of my favorite artists, Y/N Y/LN.” Harry lets the crowd cheer for her, knowing Y/N is waiting for him to call her onstage. “She’s got amazing songs, and lucky for you all, I asked her to sing a song with me for you all. So everyone welcome Y/N to the stage.” In her outfit from earlier, Y/N walks out, guitar strapped to her chest, waving to the fans. She sees hundreds of phones in the air as she stands at her mic stand. They had rehearsed today, with Harry promising he was ready. He seemed to know the entire song by heart and had his band learn it. “Let’s go!” 
Y/N never imagined being on stage singing her dirtiest song with Harry to a sold-out stadium. Y/N can’t seem to look away from him; it has her bringing out all her sensual dance moves when she plays this song. It’s a reason she cut it from her setlist tonight to play it specifically with him. When it comes to an end, Y/N turns to the Love band, giving them a round of applause. 
“How about one more?” Harry asks Y/N into the microphone. 
She smirks, “I'd be honored.” 
Y/N hands off her guitar to Chloe, waiting to pack it away for her. Then, he prances back over as Harry begins ‘Daylight.’ Y/N had always enjoyed this song, the sweetness packed in the lyrics. It's a song about a lover coming and going. While they’re home, he’s happy and full of joy, but once they’re gone, the mood falls, and he’s left missing them. It’s a feeling she’s familiar with, and she knows that Harry has lost a person due to being away for so long. It does make her think about her finished album and how it was influenced by everyone around her, romantical or not. 
As she comes over to sing into Harry’s mic, not minding the closeness, the cheers get louder as they stay together. She feels Harry’s eyes burning into the side of her head, and she dances away, letting him continue. When it’s her turn again, she returns to his mic, looking straight at him. She smirks, singing his lyrics. She sees his eyes darken and knows she’s in for a fun night.
Once the song ends, Harry lets the crowd give Y/N a long applause. Harry pulls her in for a tight hug, “thank you for doing this with me.” 
Y/N gives him a light kiss on the cheek, thankful her face is hidden from the crowd, “thank you for inviting me.” 
“I don’t want to let you go.”
Y/N laughs because she feels the same way. “Promise, I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. Go have fun, rockstar.” 
She runs off stage straight into June’s teasing arms. Y/N doesn’t even mind not when her thoughts are running wild watching Harry continue with the show. 
“Babes, we’ve got to spend the show down there,” Felix begs, pointing to the crowd of fans leaning against the barrier.
Y/N’s eyes widen, “in the pit?”
They nod. Y/N knows they won’t stop until they do, so she compromises with them. They’ll go in between the catwalk and barricade for the last songs.
“I’m down,” Quinn quickly says.
“Can you get Harry to wet us?” June asks seriously. 
Dear God. What is she going to do with them?
Once they’re down watching Harry prance around, he changes it up and plays a surprise song that makes them all lose their mind. Followed by screaming their lungs to ‘As It Was,’ nothing better than yelling “Leave America” with a sold-out crowd. By the time Kiwi rolls around, Harry has spotted them and jokes for Y/N to give him her number. There are many oohs in response, but Y/N sends him a wink. The band got what they wished for, and Harry gave them a good splash, one Y/N avoided by hiding under Quinn’s jacket. Harry is about to do his signature exit when he freezes and spots the cup of beer in her hand. She offers it to him as a joke but complies when he signals for her to pass it over. He mouths, “thank you, baby,” and the next thing she knows, he’s doing the whale with her beer. Fuck, if she didn’t want to get him naked now more than ever, as she saw the beer run down his neck and bare chest.
“Fuck me, I’m glad one of us is fucking him,” June mutters to her. 
Y/N doesn’t bother correcting her friend. As her friends walk her back, she’s lost in her head because she enjoys being with Harry. Y/N knows she took her time discovering her feelings and allowing herself to fall for Harry; now that she has, it’s all-consuming. She is filled with so much safety and love; she’s used to being overwhelmed, but Harry makes her feel at peace. Having these conversations about what they are to each other is stupid, but she knows she owes it to Harry to tell him how she’s feeling. 
She walks to his dressing room to find him changed and has his bag swung on his shoulder, meaning he’s leaving. “Heading out?” 
He turns his head when he hears her voice. “Yeah, beat traffic.”
Y/N nods and stays quiet. She knows she’ll see him back at the hotel but feels like this can’t wait. 
“Harry, I—”
“H, we got to go,” Jeff interrupts, rushing in behind her. 
Harry frowns but doesn’t argue. He stands in front of her, reaching for her hand. He intertwines her fingers between his and pulls her along with him. “Come with me,” he begs. 
Y/N begins to tell him she can’t when Quinn swings her bag at her, telling her she’s good to go. Harry gives her a deadpan stare, waiting for her to try to provide him with a reason why she can’t, but decides to give in. “Lead the way, H.” 
The car ride to their hotel is quiet. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder as Harry comes down from the night's adrenaline. Her hand rests on his lap. She knows they will leave for Italy tomorrow. While excited for the last show, she’s sad it’s all ending. Y/N and Harry walk in together through a private entrance and say goodnight to Jeff as they head into Harry’s room. Her stuff never made it to her room, and it won’t in Italy either. 
Harry heads to the shower while Y/N heads to the sink to remove all her makeup. This all feels domestic to her, doing this routine with Harry as if they’ve done it for years. 
“You taking my beer was pretty bold,” Y/N comments when she hears the water shut off. 
He dries off before exiting. She sees a towel wrapped around his waist and laughs when she sees it fits him a bit too small. “Thought you were offering it.” 
“Ever heard of a cheers,” she teases. 
Harry kisses her cheek and promises to warm her side of the bed. While Y//N showers and does her skincare, she thinks of what she will say to Harry. Her mind is going crazy, and she wants to get it in order before she just spills it all to him.
“Baby, you coming?” 
Y/N replies to give her a second. She finds Harry sitting in bed, his book on his lap and the blanket untucked, waiting for her to settle in. Y/N kneels on the covers facing Harry, knowing she has to get the words out tonight.
“Need to tell you something,” she breathes out. 
Harry looks at her concerned but gives her his undivided attention. “Course, love.” 
“I-I like you. I know I’ve said that, but I like waking up with you. I love going on dates with you. Holding hands brings the biggest smile to my face. Your hugs bring me so much love and safety. I enjoy having conversations about everything and nothing, but I also love sitting in silence with you.”
“Y/N,” Harry begins, but she shakes her head. He reaches for her hand and holds it tight. 
“I feel like it’s so soon to say these words, but I hope you feel it in every action and touch. I’m head over heels for you, Harry. I-I know I made you wait; I had to figure out my feelings, but I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you. Will you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asks. Once those words are out, she sinks her face in her hands. “God, that’s so fucking cheesy.”
“Hey, hey,” she hears Harry moving, then feels his hands pulling her hands away. He’s careful not to pressure her but lets him see her. “There’s my pretty girl.”
Y/N shakes her head; she really said all that.
“Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I appreciate it. I like knowing where you stand. Do you want to know how I feel?” Y/N nods her head. “Well, love. I’m crazy about you, too. I like sitting with you and watching you play the piano. I love trading books we’ve finished reading because yours always have different annotations for me to find. I like seeing you watching me perform. I love watching you perform for an audience, and I can’t wait to see a show soon where the entire audience is there for you. I’m falling in love, and I know you’ll be there to catch me.” 
She feels her eyes well up with tears because Y/N has never been good at expressing her emotions, but with Harry, she’d conquer every fear to make sure she can make him feel loved and seen. She presses her lips against his and melts against the familiar taste. With a soft moan, she shifted close as his mouth opened over hers, and his tongue slid between her lips. She might have initiated the kiss, but Harry seems to be the one who always takes control. She was always okay with that. She tilted her head so he could kiss her more deeply. He didn’t need more encouragement. The kiss became intense; heat flashed through her, making her thighs clench, and while she would love to take this further, she knew they needed to rest. 
His hands trailed up her nightshirt, and she broke away to let out a loud moan when she felt him squeeze her ass. “H-h-harry, not tonight,” she managed to make out. 
Harry slows his hands, bringing them back to her waist. “But we can kiss,” he asks against her lips. 
“All night if you want.” 
“Don’t tempt me,” he teases.
Harry pats her ass and helps her get under the covers. Y/N laughs when he turns her to be facing him. He wedges himself between her legs to be close; there’s no way of knowing where she begins, and he ends. 
It’s a perfect night. 
+
Italy has always been perfect to Y/N, from the people to the food to the views. While Y/N knows enough Italian to get around and understand it, Harry is basically fluent. He’d been practicing his speech all morning. His only break was to give Y/N one last wake-up call that had her screaming his name. 
Y/N and Harry spent a few days roaming Italy together. They were officially a couple and were enjoying it. Harry kissed her every chance he could get. Y/N always had a hold of Harry, whether it be his hand or at the small of his back. It’s clear everyone knows they’re together, not that they made an announcement but because they are always spending time together. Where one goes, the other follows. 
June, Quinn, Felix, and Y/N sit together in the green room, discussing their favorite moments from the tour. Quinn said in Amsterdam, some strangers let him join their bar hopping. He ended up finding he could not hold his liquor like they could. Felix shared it was playing at Slane Castle. They heard stories of never thinking it would be them on that stage. June made them all cry by stating that every moment on stage with them was special to her. June is going on a break after this, needing to go home and be with her family, while Y/N accepted that she would miss her best friend. Y/N shared it was exploring new studios while writing her new album. 
“You have to play it for us soon!” Felix expresses. 
Y/N nudges her friend, “who else would I show first?” 
Quinn nudges her. “Someone named Harry.” 
“Promise it’s almost done. Think I’m just missing an album name,” she shares, knowing she finished recording most songs. 
Before the band can start throwing names at her, there’s a knock on the door, and Harry comes in with the Love band, all holding something behind their back. June narrows her eyes at Harry, not one for surprises, but Y/N knows this will be good. 
“Y/N and band, thank you for joining us on an amazing, successful tour this year. I enjoyed listening to you every night,” Harry tells them honestly. Everyone echoes his words. “That being said, we got you a gift.”
They were all presented with a bag, and June and Quinn were quick to rip into it while Felix made sure not to make a mess. Y/N held the gift close to her chest but watched her friends open their presents first. June held a black sweater to her chest. It had her name embroidered on one side and Love on tour on the other. “Shit, we get some too!” June exclaims. “I was so jealous of y’all.” 
Quinn pulls out a pair of shoes, “satellite stompers,” to be exact. His smile is wide, and he quickly bounces over to pull Harry in for a hug. “Thanks, man.” 
Y/N doesn’t open hers because she was the one to give Harry their sizes, so she’s not expecting anything else. 
June turns to Y/N, pointing a finger, “how did he know our sizes?” Y/N grins while June gasps accusingly. “I bitched and moaned about not having one. Is this a pity gift?” 
Harry quickly assures her he wanted to give them to all of them in private. Everyone in the crew got some; he meant everyone from the band to Y/N’s photographer. Every person was necessary on this tour, and Harry wanted to make it known with a gift. Harry stepped close to Y/N and gestured for her to open hers. She gives him a suspicious look but does as he asks. She removes the jacket quickly, slipping it on when she spots a bow at the bottom. Y/N looks at him surprised because when she pulls it out, she sees it’s one she had shown him a few weeks ago. It’s an intricate bow with wildflowers embroidered on it. It has unique beading to create this delicate bow.
“The meadow bow,” she whispers, delicately touching the ends.
Harry’s cheeks warm when he sees her expression. Y/N blinks away her tears because it’s unreasonable to cry, but the fact that Harry listened to her when she went on about something as silly as her bows and ribbons. Y/N doesn’t think about what she’s about to do; she only knows she wants to thank Harry. Y/N hugs Harry, but she pulls away quickly, connecting their lips in a kiss. Harry is frozen for a second but promptly responds, both easily sinking into each other. The hollers and cheers make her break away, leaning her head on his chest.
“Sorry, H,” she sighs. 
“Don’t mind. Think you should do it again.”
“Not again,” June yells. “You cute together, but I don’t want to see that.”
Harry promises to let them get ready. 
“Will you be watching?” Quinn asks. 
Harry nods, “we wouldn’t miss it.” 
“The entire family is watching,” Gemma chimes in. Harry gasped, not knowing she had arrived. 
“Gems!” Harry rushes over to scoop his older sister in a hug. Y/N knows when Gemma says the entire family, she means it. They all promised to sing their hearts out for him. Y/N had met most of them during the few shows in Wembley, but she was merely an opener, and now she is Harry’s girlfriend.
“Come on, Y/N. Mum wants to say hello,” Gemma calls for her as she drags Harry out. Y/N promises not to be long, but the band brushes her off, telling her they already have good company. 
Y/N has the best time with Harry and his family. They share laughs about young Harry being nervous to sing in front of a crowd and now ending a tour with over 90,000 people. Anne can’t stop her tears, which makes Harry emotional, too. He stays cuddled at her side. Anne asks Y/N about her tour, and Y/N invites them to opening night. “Don’t know if you’d be able to make it, but it’d be lovely to have you there. My mum and a few cousins are attending.”
Anne reaches over Harry to squeeze her hand, promising to be there. “Course we’ll come. Your mum is lovely. Can’t wait to catch up.” 
Starting off a tour in London was the right choice for her because she wants to be in her own bed before she sleeps in a different one each night again. Y/N excused herself, needing to prepare for one final Love on Tour show. 
Y/N huddled her band before going on stage. “You are my favorite people. I feel so lucky to do this with you every night. One last night with June, let’s make it unforgettable.” 
“I love you,” Felix shouts. They laugh, squeezing each other tight, echoing the words to each other. And with that, Y/N and the band take the stage one final time. 
“Italy, you have been an absolute dream. Each night, every crowd welcomed us with open arms, and when you sing back my lyrics, that is something I will never forget. I couldn’t do it alone, though. My amazing, amazing band. Felix, June, and Quinn are my family. Without them, I would not be where I am, and I will never forget that. June is actually taking a break after this tour. She’s going away, but she’ll be back. The spot is open if Sarah Jones is looking for a job.” The crowd laughs while June shakes her head in disbelief but also knows Y/N would never pass up a chance to work with someone at the caliber that Sarah Jones is at. “Most importantly, thank you to Harry Styles for inviting me out on tour. It’s the best choice I could have ever made. You have shown me kindness from the first moment we met. Thank you for allowing me to use your stage each night, but most importantly, thank you for showing me how music inspires you to do good and always do better. This last song is dedicated to you, H.” 
Y/N hurries off stage after playing “The Last Man on Earth” and runs straight to the dressing room, where she cries into June’s shoulder. This tour has her saying goodbye to her best friends but opening new opportunities because she knows there is a conversation she’s been dodging for some time now and knowing Harry today won’t end until he gets his way. 
“That was beautiful. Every night, honestly.” Y/N steps away from June, wipes away her tears and is thankful she decided not to do her eyeliner tonight, or she’d look worse than she feels. Harry had come to see them all but mostly knew his girlfriend would need a bit of comfort. 
“Harry, my man. Thank you,” Quinn answers, pulling him into a hug. Everyone does the same, but Y/N stands frozen. It seems everyone can pick up on the tension and give her a moment alone with him. 
Harry hurries over and takes her in his arms. Y/N relaxes in his hold because he’s always had that calming effect on her. “You were wonderful. Had me in tears.” 
Y/N giggles against his chest, “stop it.” 
“Seriously,” he laughs, and Y/N feels it go through her. “Jeff was recording me, laughing at my tears.” 
“Thank you, H. I know you said you’d watch, but knowing you were in the crowd made tonight even more special.” 
Harry kisses the top of her head. “It was all you. Don’t know how I will survive without seeing you every day.”
“You can follow me on tour,” Y/N offers. 
“Now that’s a thought.” 
They settle in silence, neither one having anything to say. Simply enjoying their time together. Y/N doesn’t know how much time passes, but she knows he’s got to get dressed. 
“I really like you, Y/N,” Harry whispers into the quiet of the room.
“Harry,” Y/N pulls back to look at him. Those emerald eyes are full of love, and Y/N knows it for her. She has to let herself be happy, and it’s clear Harry is a big part of bringing that joy to her life. 
“I like you,” he repeats. “And I’ll keep liking you tomorrow and every day that is to come. I’m letting you know how I feel. We’ve discussed it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t remind you. Will forever be crazy about you.” 
“I’m crazy about you, too,” Y/N breathes out. “You fill me with so much happiness.” 
Harry smirks, “enough to join me on holiday for a few more days?”
She looks at him, confused. 
“My family and a few friends are spending time in my home here. If you’d like to join us–join me,” he offers timidly.
“You mean it?” 
Harry nods, “nothing better than you in a bikini,” he teases. 
She slaps his shoulder, “I’m there.”
“Good.” 
Harry kisses Y/N. She is quick to soften beneath him and eagerly reciprocates the kiss. Y/N loves his touch, and with each kiss, she feels herself heat up and knows where this could lead, but there is just no time. “Harry,” she mutters against him. “You’ve got to get ready.” 
He sighs against her, “one more.”
Y/N happily agrees.
+
Y/N can’t stop her hands from shaking. She’s done everything she could think of, from doing math problems in her head to focusing on her breathing, yet nothing is working as she waits for Harry to introduce her.
“I don’t know if many of you know, but I personally requested for Y/N to join us on tour. I didn’t know if she would be available, but my manager told me to have hope, and here we are now. I-I-honestly know she’s one of our generation's best writers and singers. I feel fortunate to have shared this time with her. Something none of you know is that Y/N loves playing my piano. She’s written a lot of her second album on it. So I thought it would be fitting to bring it out and sing with her. Everyone, please welcome Y/N!” 
She walks out from behind the stage. Y/N waves at the crowd she had greeted an hour earlier. Y/N feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest. It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with; it was something she told the crowd. 
“Feel special. Y/N is the definition of calm and collected,” Harry teases. “Now, this is Y/N’s song, and I thought maybe you’d want to hear a bit.”
“It’s called ‘Right Now’. I hope you enjoy.” They had planned this: Harry would play the keys, and Y/N would sing, but for some reason, her nerves were getting the best of her, and Harry started the song for her. Hearing Harry sing her lyrics comforted her because he genuinely enjoyed her music. Her voice blended in with Harry’s before it was her all alone. Y/N stayed on the bench with Harry, feeling too vulnerable to go out to the crowd. It was insane debuting a song to a crowd that maybe wouldn’t relate to her words, but she sang with every emotion she could pour out for the odd chance that someone did. Y/N felt Harry’s eyes on her and turned to smile at him. Thanks to Harry, she finished this album and finished this song. These songs weren’t written about him; they have him intertwined in the stories she’ll share about this album. 
Before she knows it, she’s singing the final lyric, and Harry plays the last note. “Everyone, Y/N!” The applause is thunderous, making Y/N tear up. She tries to imprint this moment in her mind because she never wants to forget it. Harry walks her off as the piano is taken away, though none of the fans know it will return by the night's end. Harry leaves her backstage, wiping away the few tears that escaped her. 
“Thank you, that was beautiful,” he kissed her cheek.
He goes to walk away, but Y/N pulls him back in by his vest and kisses him. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, holding her to him as he devoured her mouth. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she breathes out. 
Harry is tempted to kiss her again, but he knows if he does, he’ll get lost in her and can’t do that when he has a show to return to. “It’s me. I’m the lucky one. ” He runs back, asking the crowd if they’re ready to do some dancing. The cheers are enough for him to continue on.
The show goes on, and Y/N has the time of her life. She goes out after her song to dance and sing with his family in the crowd. Harry finds them all easily, but the tears don’t stop when he takes his time to thank his mum and sister. To thank his friends who have been there from the start, Y/N knows he’s including her in the thank you’s because he reminds her time and time again that she changed his life in a way he never expected. 
Y/N knew about the ballad he would be playing on the piano. It’s something they worked on together, but something she didn’t expect was the quietness of the crowd. There is no sound except a few people crying as this lovely melody fills the area. 
Harry walks off the stage in tears, and the band soon follows. Y/N knew she’d be emotional, but she can’t seem to stop crying. She walks hand in hand with June backstage, where she sees Harry hugging his mother and moving on to his sister. They all huddle in Harry’s dressing room as they erupt in cheers, celebrating the end of the tour. Y/N knows she’ll find a minute with him alone but, for now observes Harry being showered in the love he deserves. The room slowly began to filter out, giving Harry a moment to shower and change out of his clothes, but before she could leave, she felt someone grab her wrist, and the door shut behind her. Harry stood in front of her dimpled smile on his face. His emerald eyes were shining bright. 
Happiness looked good on him. 
“Congrats on a successful tour, Harry!” Y/N wrapped him in a hug, aware of his bare chest. 
His arms held her tight as he swayed her side to side. “Thank you for writing that song with me.” 
“Our first of many,” she promises. 
Harry breathes her in, letting them stand in silence, soaking in the moment. This is a day they both would look back at fondly. It’s a story they’ll tell their future children.  
“Thank you for bringing love to me,” Harry whispers. He loved touring and, at times, found it lonely, but ever since Y/N joined, it’s like he found his missing half. He never felt alone because he knew she was always close by. 
Y/N shakes her head, “think it was all you.”
Harry ponders for a second. He was the one with the idea to bring her on as a tour opener. “Think it was.”
He connects his mouth with hers in a passionate kiss. She feels him grin against her as he pushes her against the door. His hands roam her back before resting on her waist while hers find a home in his hair. Y/N had been craving him since he kissed her halfway through his show. She kissed him, hoping her mouth said everything she hadn’t spoken aloud. 
Y/N knows this is the next part of her story. It’s not ending or starting; she’s simply turning the page to create a new chapter. Y/N has no idea where she’ll be in one year, let alone five, but one thing she does know for certain is that she loves Harry. 
+
thank you for reading 💜💜💜 please feel free to send me a message of what you loved from the story
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onceagainace · 5 months
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Woof woof woof woof
#piccredit @bethandbono
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Kinkmas 🎄 № 1: Cockwarming
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summary: you kinda (not really) bet harry to ‘no nut november’ and its finally december 1st. 
word count: 2.8k
reading time: 11 min
content warnings: 18+,cockwarming (obviously), teasing, grinding, brief fingering, fluff, clingy reader (and harry tbh), desperate, passionate p in v sex, pet names (baby, lovie). 
a/n: Welcome to Kinkmas!
_____________________________
You had told Harry it was a childish idea. But one thing about Harry, he was stubborn and hard-headed, and if you'd told him not to do something he was going to do anyway….well, he'd just commit to it ten times harder. And that's precisely what he did with No Nut November. 
He'd brought up the idea of participating directly after the two of you had some particularly mindblowing Halloween sex. You were giggling, wrapped up in one another, Halloween costume in pieces, still basking in your orgasm glow when you'd off-handedly joked how you couldn't believe you'd gone so long without sex like you'd grown accustomed to with Harry. He'd agreed, joking that he'd 'implode' without having you at least four times a week. Which led to you challenging him, lovingly calling him pussy whipped, and saying he couldn't last two days without you before he came begging for it. You know, because you've seen it before.  His record was actually three days. 
But still, if you think about it too hard, you'd realize that this, No Nut November, not having had sex with your boyfriend in a month, nonsense is all your own fault. You challenged him, and he swore to No Nut November because he's….Harry, meaning he also committed you to it as well, and now here you are. In bed, counting down the hours until December 1st. Literally. Minute by minute. And hour by hour. You've been trying to distract yourself with a book for the last hour, but you've not retained any of the words your eyes have been scanning despite flipping the pages. All you can think about is how Harry's barely touched you outside of light caresses and feather-light pecks to your lips. For. The. Last. Month. The material you were reading is by no means helping. All the talk of groaping, nipping, and ravishing. They seemed to be the only words you could pay any attention to. 
While you have made your disdain for Harry's unnecessary commitment known, Harry has seemed to be unphased by it all. It was your favorite thing about him and your biggest pet peeve. He was always so nonchalant. About everything, except you! Usually, at least, but much to your surprise, he's been able to contain himself and even turned down your many attempts to break his silly vow early this month. You were disappointed, and it may have led to an even deeper conversation that the two of you needed to have when it came to your relationship with sex and your sex life. And while you were grateful that this silly bet could be a vehicle for you to have that conversation, you were ready for it to all be done. You looked over at the clock on Harry's bedside table. 
One more hour. Forty-five minutes, to be exact.  
Harry was still in the bathroom, going through his nightly routine and trying to get a grip himself. Harry had been strong for 29 days, nearly 30 days. He could make it one more night. But, as Harry wraps the floss around his fingers, he tries to remember why he agreed to do this in the first place. To prove a point, he's sure. What point? He couldn't think of anything else but you to think of a decent answer. But he's noticed. How you've been huffing around the house all month, but especially today, hoping he'd break on the last day and give you what you've been desperate for. How you've been glancing at the clock every forty-five minutes since the sunset. How - 
"Harry, come to bed, will you?" your voice carries into the en suite from the bedroom. He can't help but smirk. You've been slightly whiny all day, all week, really, and he found it so fucking endearing. Knowing that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. You'd deny it, but this arrangement the past month has been a fun challenge for you. He knows how much you enjoy being teased, and this month has been nothing if not one giant tease.  
So, not wanting to drag out your misery any longer, Harry rushes through the rest of his routine and comes to the doorway, leaning against it, smiling at you and your book, cuddled under the covers. 
"How's the book?" He asks. He always asks. 
"Meh. It's okay, not as good as the first one." You rush out, place your bookmark, and close the pages. You put it on your bedside table, turning off your light, leaving only the lamp on Harry's bedside table to illuminate the room. You pat his spot next to him, a slight pout on your lips when he doesn't budge from his spot leaning against the doorframe. "Harry….come on, bedtime. I'm exhausted." 
"Alright," he chuckles, pushing off the doorframe, "you just remember that." He says, peeping the cute set you'd decided to go to sleep in tonight. It was a silk baby blue, matching set that you'd just bought on a Cyber Monday sale. You figured it'd be the perfect thing to wear to break your temporary celibacy. 
"Remember what?" you question oh too innocently, through a yawn, your eyes already closed. 
"It's bedtime. Emphasis on bed." He flicks off the lamp on his bedside table and slides into bed in his spot behind you. You notice it after a few moments once he's comfortably tucked behind you, an arm around your waist. And you can't help the proud smirk that creeps onto your face. 
Your plan worked! 
You knew that the new set you'd put on, plus a few pouts, would get him hard…..he was almost too easy. So you allow yourself to wiggle around, to 'get more comfortable,' and be positive that you'd feel a grip around your hip, telling you to "be still, and go to sleep." It had happened so many nights this month, but not tonight. His tight grip is there tonight, but it's encouraging your movements. You let out a short gasp, biting your lower lip when you feel Harry's lips on the back of your neck. 
"I thought it was bedtime." you tease.
"It is. I just…..I was thinking…" he mumbles between kisses to your neck and shoulder and nibbles your earlobe.
"...yes.."
"What if I just slip inside. That's not cheating, is it?" 
"It's the last day." you giggle, wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine but quickly losing any remnants of self-control with his lips doing wonders on your neck.
"Exactly, it would suck to come all this way to lose on a technicality, wouldn't it? So what do you think, Lovie? Did we still finish the challenge if I just - put it inside ya? Just missed you wrapped around me, baby." Now it's Harry who's whining, hand tight on your hip, grinding your ass down into his hardening cock. 
You have half a mind to turn him down. After all the struggle you've been through this month, just for him to want to give in on the last day? But he feels so good pressed against you, and his lips are so soft pressed against that spot on your neck that gets you every time. His voice grounds you back down to earth before you can get too lost in the feeling. 
"Baby…" 
"This was your idea," you say earnestly.
"You dared me." 
"I did no such -" Just then, he nipped at your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin under your ear, "No, I didn't. You're just a brat." you giggle, throwing the nickname right back at him…for once. 
He pinches your side with a groan. "Don't be mean. I'm in need here, baby. Come on." He continues his work on your neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. After a few moments, though, he's had enough and taps at your hip, signaling you to turn over. You allow him to flip you on your other side, facing him, his lips instantly catching yours. He slots his throat between your thighs, bringing your hips to grind down onto the flexed muscle of his thigh. You can't help but let out a moan of relief that slips from your lips into Harry's mouth, which he swallows for you happily. 
You allow your hands to twist into his curls at the nape of his neck, racking your nails down his scalp, pulling him closer. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you press yourself even further into him, your hips moving on their own accord now. 
"You sure you want to - wanna give up." you taunt, nipping at his bottom lip. 
"I. don't care. Need you. Please." 
In that moment, you realize that all he needed to do was beg. All he ever needs to do is beg, and you are absolute putty in his hands. 
You pull back from his lips just a few centimeters, leaning your forehead on his. But Harry was starved, chasing after your lips with his, nipping at your lips. 
"Please, baby." 
It was unnecessary, now. Harry's begging. You were already going to give him what he wanted, but the prayer rolling off his lips still makes your stomach flip. 
"S'not cheating." you rush out before crashing your lips to his once again, eating his moans. 
Suddenly, the two of you are a mess of limbs, trying to rid each other of your clothes. Granted, it was just your silk sleep set and his boxers, but the two of you refusing to separate lips made things much more difficult. Once you were both rid of the barriers, Harry rolled on top of you, burying himself in your shoulder, running his nose up your neck, nipping his way up, and moving his hips into yours. He lets out a hiss as his tip nudges at your clit, wet with your arousal from grinding down on his thigh.
"Fuck, baby." he takes his hand from your hip, snaking it between you two, "Gotta get you ready for me, okay?" He moans, leaning his forehead on hears, with a sweet peck to the pout that's made its way to your lips when you realize what he is doing. 
"Harry - just -" 
"It's been a month. You're not changing my mind, hey. Look at me." He says, nudging his nose to yours, "I'm right here. You just relax and take what I give you. Got it?" when you nod, without a word, he slips one of his thick fingers inside. "Got it?" 
"Mhm. yeah. Sorry." you moan, curling yourself into Harry's neck. 
"It's okay. Just relax; gotta fit me in there, yeah?" Harry coos at you, skillfully working his finger in and out of you. "Talk to me, baby. Missed you too much." 
"Missed you too, Harry -" You force yourself away from him enough to turn your head towards him to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Missed you so much, you have no idea." you plead, "Please, more." You whimper, rolling your hips into his hand, and he obliges, slowly pushing in a second digit. 
"What do we say?" 
"Thank you," you whine out, rolling your head back on your pillow, allowing Harry the room to mark up your neck like he's been waiting for all month. 
"And, Lovie?" 
"Hmm." you hum, blinking up at Harry. 
"No coming," he smirked down at you, one hand between your legs and his other arm propping himself up on his elbow. You huff at him but nod your understanding, turning yourself into his neck for comfort while his fingers work you open. "There, you go, baby." He coos as he feels you relax on his fingers, making him want to add a third just for…safety. And he does, enjoying the cute noises bubbling up your throat with each drag of his fingers. "You're doing so good, baby. You think you're ready for me?" 
You nod frantically, rolling your hips up into his hand to convince him. "Yes, always ready. Please." 
He plants a deep kiss on your lips, pulling his fingers out of you, swallowing your moan in protest. He pulls away, licking his fingers clean, before maneuvering himself back, hovering over you. Harry grabs ahold of himself at the base, allowing you to roll your hips up, your clit rubbing up and down the tip of his cock.  
"Shhh, baby. I'm gonna give it to you but remember, I'm just - fuck - just filling you up, okay. Gotta stay still, I'm okay?" He huffs, nipping at your jaw, placing kisses anywhere he can reach. 
"Yes. Please, Harry, just -" 
"Stay still, baby," he smirked, holding your hip into the mattress. When he's satisfied with your limited wiggling, he slowly runs his tip up and down your folds a few times, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside, inch by inch. "Oh, Lovie." he groans into your mouth, "Missed you so much." he licks at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, wanting to be wholly consumed with you, and you allow him to be. When he's fully seated inside, you tighten your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being so full. The heaviness of him, how deep he was. It was heavenly. You enjoy his lips, kissing, and his teeth nibbling, his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Enjoying the feeling of Harry. And with his lips working magic all over? You weren't sure how much longer you could just allow him to be in you without him being in you.  
"Harry," you whine, "Please move." 
"I can't." 
"Yes, you can," you grumble, shifting your hips up to meet his, just for him to hold you back down. 
"Stay still," he begs, now because he's losing his resolve and his slow ability not to finish inside you, with the way you're wrapped around him, rolling your hips and squeezing - but he's made it far. He can't give up now, not when he's so close - god, is he already tight? Just from being buried in you for a couple of minutes? You are quite literally fluttering around him, but still, he shouldn't - 
"No. Harry, look. You can move - look." you insist, turning your attention to the alarm clock on his bedside table. 
12:02 AM
In blinking red numbers. 
"This stupid bet is over, please, Harry - oh." 
He only hesitated a split second, trying to wrap his mind around what his eyes were seeing. But once it clicked. It clicked. And his hips seemed to be on autopilot, the way they slowly and sloppily rolled against yours, quickly coming up with a pace that worked magic for you both as he ground his pelvis into your clit. 
"Fuck, baby - you feel so fucking good." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, your head cradled between his forearms. "I missed you so much." 
"I missed - I missed you too." you barely get the words out before you feel it creeping up on you, the tightening in your belling and tingling at the base of your spine. "I'm -" 
"I know, baby, me too. Shit." He hisses, kissing down your neck, speeding up his hips. You wrap your fingers in his hair, giving it an encouraging tug that you know he always appreciates. To which he groans in your neck, and you revel in it. You're so close that your skin starts to prick with heat, and all you can sense is Harry. "Come with me. Please, Lovie." Harry begs, so you do. 
You come with a bright white light flash behind your lids, your eyes snap shut, and you hold onto Harry as he holds onto you, groaning into the juncture between your shoulder and neck, biting his own lip. 
A few moments later, you're still on cloud nine. You're floating, weightless, as Harry cleans up the mess between your legs, not before admiring at first, though. 
"You are such a freak." you giggle, swatting Harry away and closing your knees together. "Clean me up or let me do it, but please don't -." 
"Don't, what? I like seeing the mess I've made." He smirks. You roll your eyes as he opens your legs and begins work cleaning you up. 
"Thank you," you murmur through a yawn. Already drawing the covers over you. Harry cleans himself off, tossing the rag on the floor to the foot of the bed, promising to put it away in the morning. 
"Sorry, by the way. Didn't mean to make the first time we had sex in a month a quicky." he chuckles, climbing into bed with your wrapping himself around your naked form. "I don't know what I expected to happen, though. Don't let me do that again." He sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek. 
"Never." 
🎄🎄🎄🎄
kinkmas 2023 masterlist
vote on day 2′s prompt here
🎄🎄🎄🎄
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missmielyhoran · 10 months
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Denial
face calim- Lily James
Masterlist // Series Masterlist
[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]
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Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, Harryfan1 and 663,989 others
Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.
View all comments.
Harryfan1 Milf fr
Harryfan2 Where are the kids?
Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.
Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time
Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff
Y/Nfan1 No me too
Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago
Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry
*****
They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.
A movie of your marriage dying.
You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.
"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.
"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?
"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.
"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.
You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.
Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.
"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.
"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.
"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.
"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.
You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.
You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.
Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.
"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.
*****
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Yourinstagram Mon chéri
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User1 Omg babiess
User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big
User3 I mean he's 13 now
User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry
annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much
Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺
User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭
User4 Harry didn't comment?
*****
When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.
Your whole life felt like a lie.
Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.
"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.
He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.
Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.
"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.
"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.
"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.
You should have seen the signs.
All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.
"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.
"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.
"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.
Five months...
They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.
"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.
"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.
"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.
"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.
Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.
How can things change so fast?
"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.
"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.
For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.
"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.
"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.
"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.
Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.
"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.
"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.
"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.
Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.
"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.
The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.
You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.
You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?
The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.
You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.
You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.
Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.
But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.
You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.
"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.
You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.
You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.
It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.
You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.
Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.
You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.
You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.
Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.
You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?
You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.
Oh god the kids...
What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?
You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.
*****
Harry was getting scared.
When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.
You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.
He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?
He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.
His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.
"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.
*****
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Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.
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User1 Why she looks so sad?
User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.
User3 What happened?
User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.
User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures
User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?
User3 Omg yes I didn't realize
*****
You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.
You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.
If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.
You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.
The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.
You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.
"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.
"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".
That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"
You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.
"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.
"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.
"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.
"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.
You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.
"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.
"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.
"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.
You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.
So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.
"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.
"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.
"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.
"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."
Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.
"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.
"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.
Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.
Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.
*****
Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.
He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.
Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.
He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.
But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?
She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.
He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.
"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.
They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.
He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.
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StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.
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Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf
Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister
Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.
Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww
Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨
Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious
Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday
*****
Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.
You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.
"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.
"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.
"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.
You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.
"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.
You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.
"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.
"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.
"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"
Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.
You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.
But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.
They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.
Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.
Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.
Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.
*****
Same day in evening-
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Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?
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Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?
Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated
Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures
Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked
Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.
Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden
*****
Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡
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Taglist- @lilsiz @kaverichauhan @thechaoticjoy @samwilsonsgirl @lomlhstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515
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harrysarchive · 20 days
Text
if only you knew, bunny: h.s.
pairing:
dormmate!harry x dormmate!y/n
summary:
"sorry! sorry i thought you were staying out with your mom the rest of the weekend!" harry says, rustling is heard in the background before im gentle moved to over and the door is heard opening. "you can open your eyes bunny."
warnings:
TW⚠️ body shaming
unhealthy relationship with y/n's mom (body shaming, controlling mom, just a shitty mom overall) also really short sorry i just wanted to tease these two
A/N: guys the way this has been in my drafts for about 4 months LMFAO lmk if you would want more dormmate!harry x y/n!
part two
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y/n's pov
The smell of peppermint vanilla carries along with the scent of books, soft chatter from the tv carries out in the small dorm, i glance over at the empty bed and a frown tugs at my lips.
"guess im on my own." i huff closing my book and tossing it to the side.
as i pick up my phone a knock makes me still, i glance at the door before walking over to it and slowly opening the door. my eyes catch sight of a lovely shade of green staring back at me.
"um sorry," he clears his throat, "my names Harry, and i think we're flatmates."
my eyes widen at what he says before my eyebrows furrow, "um im y/n, i didnt think i had a dorm mate."
"yeah 'm sorry about that i was in england for the past month, so i couldnt do all the orientation." he shuffles his bags and i snap out of it before throwing the door open.
"apologies, um i didnt think they did unisex dorms here."
"i wasnt expecting this either this is um C36 right?"
"yeah yeah you're right, well welcome to your dorm Harry..." i trail off not knowing his last name hoping he'd fill in the blank.
"styles!" he smirks holding out his hand and I place my hand in his giving it a shake.
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"oh my god! harry!" i squeak covering my eyes as i step into our shared dorm, a topless girl perked up on his bed.
"sorry! sorry i thought you were staying out with your mom the rest of the weekend!" harry says, rustling is heard in the background before im gentle moved to over and the door is heard opening. "you can open your eyes bunny."
i peak through my fingers and find our room empty, just the two of us. "i would've left har, you could've asked you know i dont mind." i mumble dropping my bags on my bed.
"nonsense i would rather spend time with you bun, though uh -if you dont mind me asking- why are you back so early?" he asked sitting us on my bed, i sit crisscross in front of him before tears start welding up in my eyes.
"god that woman is so fucking cruel to me har." i gasp out a sob as tears fall freely down my face.
"whoa bunny breathe for me." harry hums pulling me into his arms, broken sobs hiccup through me as i weep like a baby into harry.
"i do everything she wants, im trying to appease her and nothing is ever good enough it's either 'you look too chubby', 'you're face looks dull, use more moisturiser.' 'are you working out?' i'm sick of it!" i hiccup, "as soon as i got there she just starts listening all the things i embarrass her with. 'no daughter of mine should be in college, i got a nice boy down the street who comes with money and would love to be with you if you lost a couple of pounds.' i dont want that har, i've studied my whole life to be here. i want to be a librarian, have my own little bookstore that is where my happiness is and im not going to let her drag me down." i finish my rants tears and snot running down my face and into my hands.
harry stays quite for a little bit, rocking us slowly back and forth, i feel his lips press against my head before he lifts my head to look at him. he wipes away my tears before smiling lightly.
"you're a fighter, bunny. im proud of you, for not letting this woman take control of your life. for being your own goddamn person." he whispered to me before yanking me into a hug and tickling my sides, a laugh erupts from me before i start thrashing in his arms
"harry! stop!" i laugh before he lays on top of my the air literally being knocked out of me, "oof! you fat ass get off of me!"
"gasp! how dare you!" he gives me a cheeky smile before rolling off of me. "want to go get fro yo? on me obviously."
"ugh!" i fake displeasure rolling my eyes, "only because you want some and are paying sure."
harrys pov
i watch as y/n throws a hoodie over her head, i pull my bottom lip between my teeth looking at her legs on display, nice thick thighs and a ass that would make god sin. her face fresh with tears making her glow as bright as a star, a beautiful natural blush on her brown skin, lips plump.
a down right goddess.
"can we stop by a 7/11, momma needs some chips." she smirks pulling me out of thought as i burst into laughter.
"you're a clown!" i snort sliding on some shoes and grabbing my lanyard, i open the door for her and let her slide through, taking time watching her walk from behind before joining her.
" 'm so lonely i might take up that woman's offer with the boy down the street." she breaks the silence shoving her keys in her purse, my heart plummets.
fuck no.
"bunny you can do so much better than a man that will only want you if you lost weight." i sternly say and she snorts.
"well im waiting and theres no one in a 20 mile radius that would want me."
if only you knew bunny.
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LOVE YALL REQUEST MORE BULLSHIT!!
-all the love,
em
xo🐝
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ineffablywriting · 1 year
Text
to love someone
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Summary: an angsty one shot of one too many broken promises that leads to a broken heart or two
Word count: 2.8K
Warnings: angst, angst and more angst
Harry grinned to himself as he stepped out of the recording booth. 
“That’s the one,” he told Jeff, his heart racing with adrenaline at the prospect of a finished album. “I swear, this one’s the Grammy winner, Jeff,” he sighed, collapsing onto the sofa beside his manager. 
He’d rung Jeff and got his team together a couple hours ago when he’d been unable to get a melody out of his mind. He’d quickly scribbled together some lyrics on a scrap piece of paper he’d found lying around his apartment and rushed to the studio he had on retainer and worked nonstop for the last three hours getting the song together. And it was perfect - not to toot his own horn. 
“You just might be right on that one, H,” Jeff’s smile was almost as wide as Harry’s as they congratulated each other. “We need to celebrate properly,” he pulled out his phone and started to text people. “I’m thinking a party to commemorate the day our very own Harry Styles finished his second album.”
“An award winning album,” Harry joked, closing his eyes and lounging back in his seat with his hands behind his head. 
It felt like a weight had lifted off his chest. He’d been stuck in the worst sort of writer's block for the last couple of weeks, unable to even step foot inside a studio or pick up a pen. It had made him almost unbearable to be around. But now it was done and Harry could breathe again. 
He let a small smile perk up his lips as basked in the peacefulness that only a completed song - a perfect song - could bring him. 
He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that before the doors opened again. He sat up, a smile still fixed firmly on his face, expecting Jeff to walk through the doors. When he saw Nick’s gangly figure walking in instead his smile grew even bigger. 
“Grimmy, I did it!” he called out, standing up to give him a hug. 
“Finally finished the album, huh?” he lifted a fond brow, giving Harry an equally fierce and excited hug. 
“Yup,” he puffed out his chest proudly. 
“Congrats, Haz,” Nick patted him on the shoulder, glancing around the room searching for someone. 
“Jeff’s in another room organising a party,” Harry explained, letting himself fall back into the lounge. 
But Nick shook his head. “I’m looking for your better half,” he turned back to Harry curiously. “I thought for sure she’d be here with you, being disgustingly cute as always,” he joked. 
Harry’s face fell instantly. “Fuck.”
“What?” Nick frowned at him, watching the colour drain from Harry’s face. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cursed, scrambling around and looking for his phone. He’d switched it off and thrown it to the side as soon as he’d entered the studio not wanting to get distracted by anything. “I fucked up,” he looked up at Nick in a panic while his phone rebooted. “What time is it?”
“What did you do?” Nick asked, the smile dropping from his own lips as he looked down at his watch and answered. “Just after 10pm.” 
“Can you please call her for me?” he asked, getting frustrated at how long it was taking for his phone to switch back on. 
“Call her? Isn’t she here with you?”
“I wouldn’t be so fucking stressed if she was, would I?” he glared at Nick, finally able to unlock his phone and open up y/n’s contact information and hit call. 
“You didn’t pick her up?” Nick asked, disapproval rich in his voice. 
“I forgot!” Harry pulled the phone away from her ear and redialled her number again. “She’s not answering,” he frowned worriedly.
“You forgot.” Nick stated, unsure what else to say. “How could you forget?” 
“I don’t know! I was so focused on finishing this album. I haven’t been able to write anything for weeks, you know this. It was only going to be a quick stop and then I was gonna leave and head straight to the hospital. Fuck. She’s still not picking up,” he looked at his phone worriedly, scrolling through all the missed texts he hadn't read and all the calls that had gone straight to voicemail because he’d had his phone off. “What do I do?”
Nick didn’t know what to say. He felt for his friend but he also knew that he deserved to feel this bad for leaving y/n waiting for him so long in the dark. 
“Can you call her?” Harry asked him, his green eyes wide with worry. “She might answer you,” he pleaded and Nick didn’t have it in him to deny the request. Besides, he was just as worried for her at that moment. The hospital she worked at wasn’t exactly in the safest part of town and y/n always hated finishing after dark. 
She answered him after a few rings and he let out a relieved breath until he heard her hiccup on the other end of the line. “Babe?” he asked quietly, voice soft over the phone. “You ok?” 
“N-no,” she told him, honestly. “Not really.” 
Nick took a step away from Harry when he reached for the phone, trying to take it off him and speak to his girl. He’d obviously heard her voice on the other end of the line and hadn’t liked what he’d listened in on. He followed Nick. “Gimme the phone, Grimmy,” he hissed, once again trying to reach for the mobile device. His worry was growing with every second he spent not in contact with y/n. 
Piss off, Nick mouthed at Harry and moved further away. 
But Harry continued to follow. How could he not? He could clearly hear his girl crying on the phone and he knew it was all his fault. 
“Hey, love,” Nick said to her softly, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Harold wants to talk to you.” 
“No,” he voice was firm this time, losing the hiccups and stuttering but not the sadness. “I don’t want to talk to him right now. I don’t think I’ll want to talk to him for a long time.” 
“Y/n…,” Nick began, turning away from Harry when he saw his friend flinch and lowered his voice as he once again tried to move away. This time Harry kept his distance. “You don’t mean that.” 
“I do,” she said firmly. “I mean it very much.” 
“Y/n, are you drunk?” Nick asked suddenly as she hiccuped again, this time a slight slur to her words. 
“Nooooo,” she extended the word and that was all the confirmation he needed. 
“Y/n, where are you?” He asked suddenly, hoping she’d say she was at home in the apartment she and Harry shared. 
“Dunno,” she said instead, no real worry in her words. 
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Nick asked her a little more urgently, glancing over at Harry. He was frowning, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths the way it always did when he was worried or stressed. 
“Give me the phone, Nick,” Harry spoke through his teeth, holding out a hand for the phone. 
Wait, Nick mouthed at Harry knowing if he handed over the phone now, y/n would just hang up. 
“Y/n,” he spoke gently down the phone, slowing his words into a soothing drawl. “You need to tell me where you are and who you’re with so I can come and get you, yeah?” 
“No,” she said stubbornly, and now that Nick was listening carefully, he could hear cars driving by in the background and imagined she was stumbling around outside, drunk and alone. He knew Harry was thinking the same as his fists were curled up beside him and his cheeks had turned pink. He was angry now, but his eyes gave away his worry. “I don’t wanna go home. I don’t wanna see Ha-him.” 
“Aww, come on, love. Don’t be like that,” Nick soothed, while Harry flinched back at y/n’s tone. She hadn’t even been able to say his name. “He got distracted finishing his album, he didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sure it won’t happen again.”  
“‘At’s what he said last time,” she said, this time her voice soft and filled with hurt. “Last time and the time before and the time before that. He always forgets everything.” 
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Nick replied, doubtfully looking over at Harry. 
“It is true. Ask him. He’s there with you listening to everything. Ask him where he was on our second anniversary and his birthday dinner last year that I begged to take time off work for. Ask him where he was when I graduated and what he was doing when I asked him to come to my work’s Christmas party last year. He’s always late or doesn’t show up at all. I waited for him for an hour today before I gave up and Kiera invited me out for drinks,” she paused and took a deep breath, letting out a scoff before she spoke again. “I bet he doesn’t even know who that is. You know he never asks me about my day unless I ask him about his first. He doesn’t ask me anything about who I spent my time with or what I did that day. All he talks about is the song he wrote and how good or bad it was, about how Mitch and Sarah did something so talented I missed out on a magical moment, about how he’s going on tour soon and didn’t even ask me if I could come with him.”
“Harry?” Nick quizzed, looking over at his friend. “Tell me she’s exaggerating.” 
But Harry shook his head. He hadn’t realised how far down his list of priorities y/n had fallen until he’d heard her drunk, broken voice over the phone. He’d stood her up on their anniversary that year, having had a long day of meetings with his management, he’d gone straight home and fallen asleep in his suit. He’d woken up to y/n walking into their bedroom, heels in her hands and a small, sad smile on her face. She’d stroked his head and asked him if he’d had a long day and he’d nodded, told her she looked nice and how he hoped she’d had a good time at whatever event she’d been at. Y/n’s smile had tightened and she’d just urged him to go back to sleep and get some rest. He hadn’t even realised it had been their anniversary until a few days later when Gemma had asked him what he’d gotten her. 
He’d seen in her eyes how hurt she’d been when he’d finally given her a present, but it had been too late. He’d known it then and swore he’d never mess up so badly again. 
But he had. 
Over and over again. 
She was right. He’d missed almost every single milestone in her life and she’d never missed a single one of his. 
He’d been taking her for granted for so long, he’d just assumed she’d leave her job behind and come on tour with him indefinitely, even though he knew how hard she’d worked to get to where she was. He was so proud of her, and he didn’t think she even knew that, because she was right. 
He’d shown up late to her graduation, hadn’t met any of her colleagues or attended any of her work events, even after she’d asked him over and over again - he’d always promised her next time, but next time never came and eventually she’d stopped asking. He didn’t even remember the last time he’d asked her about her life. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, running his hands through his hair in distress. He was worried and guilty and all he wanted was for y/n to be next to him, her cute little smile on her face as they cuddled so closely they may as well have been glued together. 
He grabbed the phone from Nick’s hands before he could move it away again, holding it close to his ear and dancing away from his friend as he spoke down the line. “I’m so, so sorry, Sweets,” he said gently. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He prayed she believed him.
There was no response on the other end of the line, just some heavy breathing and in his mind’s eye, Harry could just see his girl taking deep breaths to try and keep herself from crying, to try and keep herself calm. It was something she’d done from the very first time they’d had a fight and he’d seen her cry. He’d hated seeing it then and he hated hearing it even more now. Especially when he heard her sniffle quietly, as though she’d moved the phone away to try and hide her tears from him. 
“Please don’t cry,” he begged her anyway when still no reply had come through, but Harry was hopeful that she hadn’t hung up the phone yet like she’d promised she would. “I hate it when you cry.” He didn’t mention how much worse it was when he was the reason she cried this way. 
“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Ha-Harry,” she sighed. “Give the phone ba-back to Grimmy.” 
“No,” he said firmly, clenching his teeth and pacing back and forth while his other hand brushed through his hair trying to shake out some of the tension in his limbs. “No,” he repeated more gently this time. “Please, just tell me where you are so I can come and get you?” I just want to make sure you’re safe, he thought to himself. 
“Don’t wanna see you. Why can’t you just leave me alone when I want you to? You haven’t been around for weeks and now you want to pretend to care?” she asked him harshly. 
Harry squeezed his eyes shut as his shoulders hunched inwards. He’d had his heart broken before, but never had it felt so painful before; as though he’d never be able to put himself back together again. “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately. I know I’ve been forgetful and neglected you. I know. But please, Sweets, can we just talk face to face? Please, just - just let Grimmy pick you up.”
Y/n was silent on the other end of the line for a couple of heartbeats before she let out a choked sob. “You forgot me,” she murmured. “You didn’t answer any of my phone calls or texts. You didn’t even - sometimes it feels like you don’t love me anymore,” she admitted. “Sometimes it feels like you’re only with me because it’s easier than breaking up.” 
“That’s not - no. Y/n, no. You can’t believe that. You can’t think that. You know - you have to know that’s not true,” Harry implored, stopping his pacing in the middle of the room. He looked completely lost, as though just the idea of not having y/n around made him question his place in the world. 
“Please give the phone to Grimmy, Harry,” y/n finally said. “I’ll tell him where I am. I - I think I want to stay with him tonight. Please don’t come over,” she said. “I really don’t want to talk anymore tonight. I have a headache and I’m tired.” 
Harry took in and let out a shaky breath, handing the phone back over to Nick. “Here,” he said, walking back over to the couch dejectedly and falling into it. It was a big contrast to the way he’d collapsed into it earlier with all the joy of a completed album sitting like a crown on his head. Now his whole world was falling apart in front of him. 
He thought of the rings he’d been looking at. He thought of all the times he’d walked past a jewellery store and itched to walk out with an engagement ring. He thought of all their friends who were having kids and how the only person he could see himself having a family with was y/n. And he thought about how everything was being snatched out from under him because he’d been so selfish the last couple of months. How he’d been growing more and more selfish over the last year of their relationship. 
He had to fix this. 
He didn’t know how, but he would fix this. 
“I’m gonna go get her,” Nick spoke softly, tapping Harry on the shoulder. “You should get home and get some rest too,” he told him. 
“I’m going to fix this,” Harry said to Nick, desperation thick in his words.
“I know you will, mate. I know you will,” Nick ruffled his hair fondly and walked out the room, leaving Harry sitting dejectedly on the couch. 
-
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justlemmeadoreyou · 3 months
Text
secret little rendezvous*
Summary: Part 1 of friends with benefits!harry series. It's going to be full of smut, and also a tint of angst.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: SMUT!, kissing, dirty talk, degradation, p in v sex, jealous feelings
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"All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
Harry was fucked.
Completely, utterly fucked.
In his defense, he was tired. He had been running around his workplace the whole day, managing the work of 4 people because they wanted to “spend the holidays with their family”.
And here he is now, staring at anything else he could find, other than the warm cunt beneath him swallowing up his cock with each thrust. The wall, the headboard, the ridiculous stuffed toy near the pillows, anything,  just so he won’t cum before you.
He knew that if he looked down, he instantly would. Flood your pussy with the pent up load of this whole shit week he’s had.
But you don’t mind. Given the point of being friends with benefits with him is getting an equal share of everything, but he gets a pass because he can get you off with his fingers easily, something others can’t.
So, you try and push him. Squeeze tighter, moan louder and arch your back just a lil’ bit more just to make him cum faster.
“I know what you’re doing, won’t work” he lands a hard slap to your ass, earning another moan as he increases his pace. Wet, sloppy thrusts, each paired with his grunts and your moans.
He grips your waist, leaning in so his chest meets your back, nipping at your earlobe while biting your neck below your ear.
“Hey, fuck off, man. That could be seen” you slap his shoulder, and he nips off, giving you a particularly rough thrust, making you lurch forward. The headboard bangs against the wall repeatedly, his thrusts paired with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin.
“At least they’ll know you get laid” he remarks, and gets back up, feeling a bit held off, reaching a hand below and rubbing your clit.
“Fuck, that’s not fair” you whimper, legs giving out beneath you. You squeeze around him harder, gripping the sheets as you get closer and closer.
“I know, baby. That’s why it’s fun” another rough thrust into your sloppy wet cunt and you’re gone. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, toes curling as the orgasm washes over you. 
“Oh fuck!” you curse as you bite your lower lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an incredible orgasm.
He already knows.
He cums soon after, grabbing your hips harshly as his thrusts become slower and shallower, , his breaths ragged and uneven against your skin. He repeatedly curses, your name intertwined between them as he empties himself on your back.
“Fuck, that was good” he slaps your ass a last time, making you whine. You put yourself down on the bed, but not moving too much because of the cum on your back. He falls on the bed beside you, eyes closed as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed, a sly smile on his lips, face glowing in the afterglow.
He gets up soon after, almost as if he timed the 30 seconds he had taken to recover. He walks to the washroom with his dick still hanging out, closing the door behind him. You stare at the door till you hear the sound of the flush, and he comes out with some toilet paper.
He climbs back on the bed, reaching you and wiping his cum off your back. He wipes it down completely, though it takes some time given how much he had cum, throwing the used paper into the dustbin nearby. You want water, but he isn’t one to care for you once you’re done, other than wiping off his release.
“Can you-bring me water from the kitchen?” you ask, already knowing what his answer is going to be, and mentally cursing yourself afterwards.
“What am I? Your boyfriend or something?” he shakes his head, picking up his pants from the floor and quickly getting dressed.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to give me water afterwards.” you reply, putting your head back down on the pillow so he doesn’t say that you’re watching him dress.
“It doesn’t. But, I don’t do that shit. And you know that'' he raises his eyebrows, but you don’t look up. Not at least till he’s out of the room.
Seeing the lack of reaction, he gets his coat from the couch and his phone, his keys, before yelling for a last time, “Close your door”
You don’t reply again, and he storms out, slamming the door shut behind him.
You really wish he cared. 
Just a little bit, maybe?
>>>
“I don’t want to do it” you reply to Harry on the phone with a hand on your head, pinching the skin to relieve some of the pain from your head throbbing.
“You didn’t have any problem before. Whenever I called, you would say yes” 
Ugh, you really really wanted to throw the phone across the room. Or at his face. If he worked in your department, you would happily call him in your room, and slam the phone at him.
“Well, I do now. My head is killing me and if you don’t shut up soon, I’ll throw this at you when I see you next.”
“So tonight then? I’ll stay away from you”
What?
“What? Tonight? Why?”
“Dylan’s birthday”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah. Fuck. And since he got you the “Special invite” you’re gonna have to be early for Dylan” he mocks you, because he had sent you a bouquet of flowers with an e-invite.
“Oh get over it.” you huff.
“Whatever. I’ll avoid you tonight. Don’t try and stick to my ass”
“You wish” 
With that, you cut the call.
>>>
Getting ready for the party, you were a mess. You did not want to go and get mocked by them for the bouquet, you did not want to see Harry and you did not want to leave the house either. It was so cold outside, and you would have to drive a good 4 miles because that bastard celebrates birthday like a teenager.
The party was average. There were only two people who teased you, Leah and Emily, oh, and Harry of course. Others had forgotten, and you were so grateful for that.
“So, you and Dylan. Huh” Harry came up to you, with a beer bottle in his hand. He was the one who told you to stay away from him, and here he was now, purposely coming and sitting near you.
“Shut up” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink.
You ignored him, looking anywhere else except him. You looked at the dance floor, where everyone was swaying their hips and moving with the music, the bar where they were serving drinks, anywhere.
And he did not like that.
“So, how was your day?”
You turned around 180 degrees, raising your eyebrows at him.
“What??”
“I said, how was your day? Or did your headache make you deaf?” another sip off his stupid beer.
“Seriously? Mr. Don’t stick to my ass is asking me” you pointed your fingers towards yourself “how my day was?”
“Yeah, I was just trying to make small talk”
“Well, wrong time. Shut up”
You went back to your own business, sipping your drink and ignoring him successfully. He seemed frustrated with you, and you were sure his nose was flared too. It was only for a few moments, because then his phone beeped. A message.
“Ah! Finally!” he drank the last few sips, and got up, throwing his unlocked phone beside you.
“Take care of it, will yeah? I’ll pay my bill and come back to take it”
That bastard.
It was a text from some Sophia, who was his hookup for tonight since you had said no. He wanted to show you that he had other people to sleep with, and that was why he threw his unlocked phone to go and pay for a drink from a party.
He really was a condescending dick, wasn’t he?
You sat there till you saw him turn back from the bar, and as soon as he was within your line of sight, you got up and left.
You saw him cursing while he picked up his phone, and he was most definitely cursing at you.
Not that you cared.
>>>
He didn’t call you for the next week, and a few more days after that. If he could act like a child just to tell you he has multiple hookups, something you didn’t really know about, you could at least pretend to not care.
Not that you did, no.
Next you two saw each other was at the Christmas party.
Some co-workers were bringing their kids, and so a few were asked to be dressed as Santa, Harry being one of them.
The Christmas party was more lively than stupid birthdays, and you were thankful for that. You had forgotten to book tickets to go back home, and last minute tickets were really not worth the raging dinner you had with your whole family. Most of the people would ask you about your boyfriend, when you were getting married, were you planning on having kids, how to raise them, where to raise them, all of which you didn’t want to worry about for at least the next two years. So, an office party followed by some takeaway and a Christmas movie marathon sounded perfect. 
>>>
Most people had arrived, and the place was buzzing with chatter and the slow sounds of Christmas carols playing in the background. Everyone was dressed great, adorned in festive attire with a Christmas hat perched on top of their heads. You had worn an oversized sweater, tucked in a pair of skinny jeans, and boots that you had bought a month ago. Wearing a Christmas hat, you didn’t look so bad yourself.
You took a drink from the top shelf that was made to be kept away from the children, and you wandered off, looking for Harry. He might be a bastard, but it was Christmas, so you could bear him for a while, say Merry Christmas.
Looking through the cabins, the corners, he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was struggling with his Santa costume.
You found him soon after, struggling in one of the supply closets with his beard stuck to the zipper.
“Fucking hell! Oh for fucks sake!” he was continously cursing, while trying to pull the zipper down with limited strength. If he pulled too hard, the poor rented dress would definitely tear off.
“Want some help?” you leaned on the doorway, bringing your hand up to your lips as you laughed at his misery.
He looked at you with his resting bitch face, putting both hands beside his waist. He might look all tall and intimidating, dressed in all red with a big bod, but to you, he looked like a child who couldn’t even get his clothes right, and always messed them up.
You chuckled, before going over to him, trying to up the zipper and untangle it from the fake hair.
“Yeah, I’ve already tried that, smarty pants” he said frustrated, and you reached for your pocket, pulling out your lip balm.
“What are you doing with that? You know this is rented right? Don’t put lip balm on this!”
“Yeah, old man. I know” he rolled his eyes, and you began rubbing some wax on the zipper to smoothen it down so it’ll slide easily.
“And don’t tell me you don’t know how dirty these rented outfits are. This beard you’re wearing” you pull at it lightly, making him grunt, “is filthier than our kitchen. And you know how dirty our kitchen is”
He shakes his head, “Whatever, I just have to wear it for 2 hours or something, and then I’ll return this back”. He watches you intently as you rub the wax on it, and after a few tugs up and down, it smoothes out, and the beard untagles. You zip him up, and the red outfit fits perfectly on his tall form.
You take a step back, eyeing him up and down, with a smirk on your face. He doesn’t look too bad, he is tall and the outfit he’d gotten fits him quite well. The long trousers, the ridiculously large shoes, the cap on top of his head, he kinda looks hot.
He notices you checking him out, and puts his arms around his chest, pretending to try and save his sanity from you.
“Miss Y/n, what are you going to do to me?” he takes a step back, voice low and husky. And just for the fun of it, you decide to play along. You step forward, your steps synchronizing with his steps back, and he goes back till he bangs with a cupboard.
He looks at you with utter fear in his eyes, and you can’t help but bite back a smile, going all the way and gripping his waist.
Tightly.
He sucks in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knows he can’t get too excited, or the next few hours will be a nightmare for him. 
You couldn’t be more tempted to put him into misery.
You pull yourself up, coming face to face with him, standing on your heels. He gulps down hard, knowing well how this will not end well for him.
You lean closer to his face, his lips just moments away from yours. Your hand shifts from his waist to his heart, which is beating widely in his chest. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead, and the tension between you is almost impalpable.
Your lips come closer and closer to his, and as soon as he lifts his jaw to kiss you, you pull back, and go for his neck instead. 
It’s difficult with the beard in between, but you manage to lick a long stripe from his shoulder to his jugular, feeling his pulse on your tongue. You reach back and open your mouth, baring your teeth as you bite on the skin, nipping and pulling slightly to make a mark.
And to your surprise, he doesn’t stop you. Lets you bite and suckle at his neck till there’s a proper mark blooming on the side of his neck, the skin turning red. Your tongue glides over the mark, soothing the slight sting as you continue to tease him. He moans, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, his hands finding your waist. It’s so easy-you could slide your hand down to his pants, squeezing his crotch and he’ll be done for. He’ll get hard and then be miserable while the kids ask to sit on his lap.
But you decide against it. Wearing that costume just for the little rascals to click pictures with him and make fun of him later. It was torture enough.
You pull back, and as expected, his pupils are blown out, eyes full of lust. And, as expected, he’s half hard.
You lick your lips, a little breathless as you look up at him. He looks down at you with the same lust and hunger, and you get week in the knees as he leans in and whispers, “You’re going to be sorry for that tonight” he reaches back and grips your ass, giving it a light squeeze, “on your knees”
Your stomach flips with anticipation as his words send shivers down your spine. You know what he means, and it only adds to the growing heat between your legs. You’re left with an open mouth as his grip on you is gone, and he leaves the room. You stand there for a good 5 minutes, before blinking rapidly and exiting the dark room to join the party.
The party was uncomfortable, to say the least. For both of you. You were hot and bothered, the wetness between your legs growing as you imagined him on top of you, his hands tangled messily in your hair as he fucked your face, drool and tears dripping down your face as his cock pushed in and out of your hot, wet mouth. His balls slapping against your chin, your nose deep in his trimmed pubes.The way his deep, husky voice would command you to open your mouth wider, to take him deeper.
You could almost taste him, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky scent of his arousal. Your mouth watered at the thought of him filling you, stretching your lips and throat as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. And that was making your cheeks hot and red, thighs pressed together as you looked at him as if he was a meal, one which you couldn’t wait to devour.
And maybe someone else was looking at him the same way too.
Olivia, a co-worker, approached you a few moments later, a little bit tipsy because of how much she had been drinking since she got here.
“He looks so fucking sexy, doesn’t he?” she remarked, and you blinked, pulling yourself out of your imagination.
You don’t mind other girls hitting at him. Well you did, somewhat, till you found out he was hooking up with others as well.
“Hm?”
“Styles. He’s so damn hot. Can’t wait to fuck him in that santa costume tonight”
Oh no.
“What?”
“Oh you don’t know? He fucked me last Wednesday. Said his other hookup cancelled and he needed someone who didn’t mind. I said yes. I mean, “ she tilted her head, looking at him with a face that made you want to punch her. “What bitch would say no to that? Have you seen the ass on him? And his dick. Holy fuck. It’s so fucking bi-”
“Okay-I don’t want to hear about that” you stopped her before she practically drooled over him in front of you, and described how he fucked her.
“What? You don’t like to hear some good fucking. Oh come on, it’s not like you’re getting boned, are you? You’re so boring?” she rolled her eyes, before turning around and bumping her shoulder, walking away.
No way you waited 2 hours for him just to have her take him.
No fucking way.
With gritted teeth, you picked up your purse, and walked to Harry on the other side of the room. You pulled at his arm, to try and take him to the side to talk. He reluctantly walked, making you pull his huge body half the way.
“Hey, hey, patience, love. M’ not going anywhere. Can’t you wait for just a few more minutes? Then I’m all yours” he said with a smirk.
“Well, Olivia here was describing me how you fucked her last wednesday and how she was taking you home with her today. So, what is happening?”
“What? Olivia? Hell no. She’s super drunk, and I don’t want to be around her”
“Well, then hurry. Ditch this stupid party and…take me home.”
You whispered the last part, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless and desperate as you did. He was an asshole, but he was great in bed and the idea of her doing the same with you did with him, made you want to blech. 
“Awww, someone’s a bit romantic. You’re jealous, aren’t you love?”
Here we go.
“No! Why would I be jealous of that…that bitch?”
“There it is. Ugly emotion” he was smiling like a moron, and you felt so embarrassed. Jealousy, or any other emotion, wasn't supposed to be involved, but it eventually always does, doesn’t it?
“Alright, fine. Now shut up and take me home before I change my mind” you said with a frown, and began to walk away.
“Yes ma’am” he replied, following you closely.
>>>
Harry drove you both home, since you were drunk. You were sitting tilted with your back against the window, legs propped up on the sheet. He looked so sexy even when he drove, his jaw clenching every time there was a signal. He was rock hard in his pants, and he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck your mouth.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he slammed the horn, hitting the brake as the last signal before his street was on too. You giggled, biting your lower lip as you looked at him with doe eyes with your legs propped up on the front.
You leaned forward and turned on the radio, and he gave you a glare. As the song played on, you slowly hummed to the tune, twirling your hairs around your fingers and looking out the window. You were so nonchalant, and Harry did not like that.
“Do you have any idea how hard I am?” he growled, almost painfully. You had a complete idea of how hard he was. He had been so turned on since your encounter in the storage room, and seeing you jealous had probably egged him on even more.
“Hmm?” you turned your head and looked up at him with an innocent look, your hands crossed above your chest.
“Oh.” he chuckled, and you knew you had managed to reach his nerves, “Is it? You don’t know what I’m talking about?” 
You shook your head in a no, mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked angry, as well as horny. Pupils blown out and eyes full of lust, cheeks red. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, while he was controlling himself so much you had no idea. Restraining himself from bending you over and taking you right there in the backseat.
The car came to a halt, and you saw that the signal was on. The last signal before you pulled up to his house.
Before you could blink, he had opened his seatbelt, and was reaching over to your side, pinning your hands to your chest with his wrist. The other reached down, pulling your sweater up and revealing the top of your jeans. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and a cruel smirk was painted across his face.
“Harry-harry, what are you-” you murmured while he undid the button, unzipping your jeans and pulling it down with a harsh pull.
His hand immediately found your panties, and he pulled them to the side, his cold hand making contact with your wet cunt.
You shivered and moaned at the contact, eyes falling shut as his fingers caressed your swollen nub. He pushed one finger in, and you were a goner.
Your legs squeezed shut, mouth parting open as his ring met your lips, the coldness making you whimper. His finger was longer and thicker than yours, and only one was enough to make your walls clench.
A horn blared from the car behind, and your eyes widened. You tried to move your hands, but he had pinned them down firmly, his finger still deep into your pussy.
“Harry-there’s someone behind-they can see you-harry-” 
You were stopped by a crushing kiss to your lips, and seeing you hesitant, he pulled his finger out. Pulling back from the kiss, he put the same finger into his mouth, sucking the wetness, eyes falling shut at your taste.
“Know people can see. Though that turns you on even more, doesn’t it?” 
You looked down at your unbuttoned jeans, cheeks turning hot and red at his admission. You had a bit of an exhibitionism kink, and people looking did  turn you on.
“Knew it. You’re a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? Good god, I’m so going to fucking ruin you tonight”
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
You were holding on to that promise.
(part 2)
a/n: i spent wayy too much time writing this! no idea why? but i really liked the idea, and i just spiraled with it, and the next thing i know it turned into a series! anyways, let me know if you like this! if this gets enough notes, i'll definitely do a part 2! love you all!
please like, comment or reblog if you like this, i really appreciate every note 🥺🥺
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jarofstyles · 27 days
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Caught
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Heyyyy.... This is something I wrote all in one night and it got filthy quick lol. I've been trying to do more one offs and I hope you guys like this one!!
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WC- 9.1k
Warnings- Sex w someone who isn't Y/N (It's quick don't worry), friends to lovers, angst, unprotected sex, spitting, praise kink
------
Y/N hadn’t thought twice about going into the living room she shared with her roommate, AirPods in her ear as she had padded across the hall. Maybe if she had been aware of her surroundings, maybe if she hadn’t assumed Harry would figure out she was home by her keys on the rack or her text prior, she would have avoided walking into the scene of filth she found herself stumbling in on. 
Strolling into the living room, she was stopped cold by the scene in front of her. There, on their couch, was Harry. Fully naked, his back red with what would be scratch marks in the morning, thrusting into someone. A woman, by the sound of the whimpers. Manicured nails gripped his biceps as she whimpered, the sound of sex becoming evident as she ripped the AirPod from her ear. 
She was frozen. Standing there shocked, hearing his grunts as his hand steadied him on the back of the couch with his fingers denting the fabric, his powerful thrusts jolting the girl and the furniture. He was into it, fully. As much as she felt she was intruding, she couldn’t stop looking. 
It was hot. Y/N had to admit that, even in her frozen shocked state. The mix of their sounds, her red hair spilling over onto the pillow, her leg being held up by one of his hands to get, what was most likely, the perfect angle. Just by the sound of it, the pair was having an incredible time. 
“Fuckin’ taking it so well..” His raspy voice was deep, a depth she hadn’t heard the fullness of. It sent tingles down her body, hearing her roommate and seeing him in a way she hadn’t before. He had always been sweet and goofy and silly. He joked around about getting lucky, she heard some lighthearted sex stories and had he was a master at dirty jokes- but she had never seen him in the element. Assuming most people didn’t see their friends like that. 
Y/N didn’t harbor any feelings, not that she knew of. She wasn’t hurt by the viewing, no, more so fascinated and embarrassed because she had caught them. But they seemed far too into it to notice her. That itself got her hot between her thighs. 
Harry seemingly hadn’t been lying about his skill in the bedroom. She thought he had been exaggerating, but the way the girl under him was wailing seemed to have her thinking different. 
“Fuck me.” The girl’s voice sounded weak, red nails tangling in his hair and pulling him down. The sound of lips coming together for a kiss echoed in the room, his pace slowing and his hips grinding into her, making the redhead moan and arch her leg up over his hip to pull him closer. The weak whine was wistful, the pop of their mouths disconnecting and saucy chuckle from Harry was low as he gripped her jaw. 
“You’re so close. I can feel it.” He spoke close to her mouth. “Wet little cunt’s making a proper mess. Should make you clean it up with your tongue. Filthy little thing.” He grumbled. 
Y/N had sense to slowly back into the hallway, hiding behind the wall- but she still couldn’t look away. It was wrong. So goddamn wrong, but her cunt was hot and wet from simply watching, she wanted to see it all. Just looking at how wet his covered cock had been, stretching the stranger’s cunt out and hearing her whines had her imagining herself in her place. 
Would he choke her? Would he call her filthy? She could only hope. 
Her eyes watched as the girl clung to him, letting out little noises each time his cock thrusted into her. The pace was picking up from the slower one, her lips parting in a soft ‘o’ as Harry looked down at her. It seemed intense. No words exchanged but the noises of their sex, the wetness of her cunt and his cock fucking into the stranger’s welcoming cunt filling the room. 
The shift happened when he slowly adjusted her leg. Like a bolt had hit her, she squealed and arched up, panting out to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… right there, fuck me right there, don’t stop.” She was desperate, begging him as his prick filled her dripping cunt again and again. 
“M’not stopping until you’re creaming around my cock, sweetheart.” He smirked, keeping the angle perfect as he continued to sheath himself inside of her. The pleasured groans and moans, slapping of skin, it was all hot. Every bit of it. Y/N wasn’t going to be able to forget it. Harry was stretching her out, and watching his cock inside of her was doing something to her. 
It planted a seed of jealousy in her mind. Displaced, of course, because she had no claim over him. He was her friend, her roommate, but watching this made her recall her own experiences. While they hadn’t been bad- some were ever good!- they never made her moan like that. Never made her legs tremble in the way the girl underneath Harry were. No one had spoken to her with that sort of grit, that dirty. Her own had been moans, whispers, but nothing that came close to how her body was reaction to the mere sight of this. 
The noises got louder and she could see that they were getting to the edge but it felt like too much to watch it happen. Instead, she shut her bedroom door and listened. The slap of skin, the whimpers coming from the woman that were slightly muffled and the words of encouragement leaving his mouth. He called her a good girl, told her to cum around him, and a smack followed by a heady moan made her eyebrows raise. Harry was into it. It happened soon after, the repeated mewls into the air that she was cumming and the sound of his hips quickening before he let out a groan that would surely haunt her, then the sounds of frantic lips meeting. 
It was over now, but she surely wouldn’t forget about it anytime soon. 
——
Y/N hid out in her room for 2 hours. She knew the girl was gone, heard Harry tell her goodbye and the closing of the door. Heard him take a shower. But she was hesitant to leave. It was going to be an awkward thing, she knew, especially because she’d slipped her hand into her panties and made herself orgasm in record time. 
She was ashamed to get off to the memory of that. This was Harry, after all! But she couldn’t deny the hunger that rose after seeing the type of sex she’d always thought was reserved for her erotic novels in real time. Her sex had never been like that and the pleasured sounds and words from the woman he’d fucked had sounded so desperate and real, there was no way she was faking it.  The other thing that bothered her, though, was the fact that he had done it on the couch. They had a rule not to do anything in common areas, and if he had just followed them then she wouldn’t be in this mess. Thinking of him in ways she shouldn’t be. 
The guilt bubbled in her stomach, but it was hungry more than anything. She needed to eat something, needed to face the music, and she waited until Harry was in his room to scurry to the kitchen and grab some snacks as fast as she could- some chips, dark chocolate, a protein drink, piling them in her arms to make the great escape back to her room- only to turn around to see Harry standing there with a smile. 
Fuck.
“Hey, lovely. When did you get home? I didn’t hear the door.” He hummed, stepping closer into the kitchen and bumping her hip to get into the fridge. 
There were a few ways she could go about this, but Y/N didn’t like to lie. She despised it, actually, and that’s part of what made Harry like her so much. His words, not her assumption. She was honest to a fault, and it was hard to go back from that. But she wasn’t about to admit she stood there and watched- not on her own terms. 
“I’ve been home all day.” She said simply, avoiding his eye as she adjusted the snacks in her arms. Part of her wanted to book it to her room but if she did that, it would be even worse. He’d follow her. As hard as she’d tried, her voice came off a bit cool, not the normal easy warmth it usually held. He’d know. 
He froze. Harry’s body stiffening as he stood up from the fridge and shut the door. “You-You have?” His voice was hesitant and she could feel his eyes on her as she nodded, pretending to be interested in the ingredients list of her chocolate. “I- um…” it was very rare to have Harry speechless. He always knew what to say, how to say it, but in this instance he didn’t know how to react. “You… Did you-“
“Yep.” Y/N nodded. Despite how much she yearned for a lack of awkward, there was no avoiding it. 
“You said you’d be gone today.” His tone was accusatory, making irritation flare up in her. Her eyes blazed as they looked up at him. “You said you’d be at work.” 
“I texted you and told you that someone switched shifts with me.” That was no lie, but her voice was hard. Defensive. Because she wasn’t going to be blamed for his lack of phone usage. He was usually good with checking texts but some days he slacked, but she texted him and let him know she would be home. It was clear that he saw that when he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw the message on his lock screen, his body deflating and shrinking back as he saw the hard look in her eye. Y/N wasn’t usually irritated with him, but she didn’t appreciate being called a liar. 
“Fuck.” He said quietly, looking from the phone to her face which was showing obvious signs of discomfort. Harry would never want to make her uncomfortable, and he’d done exactly that with his own oversight. “Y/N, Love- I’m so sorry, I-“
“It’s fine.” She said quickly. “Just… clean the couch.” It made her feel gross to think there were traces of someone else, bodily fluids where she liked to take her naps. Even more so because she didn’t know how often this had happened. 
“I-of course. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t see the text, I would have never done anything if I knew you were home-“
“I said it was fine, Harry.” It came out sharper than she intended it to. Obviously it wasn’t fine. “I was waiting for a few hours to get something to eat so I didn’t interrupt. I just wanted to get my damn snacks and eat them in peace. If you’ll excuse me.” Bumping past him, she rushed towards her door and turned the lock, placing the snacks on her desk. That hadn’t gone smoothly. Not at all. 
—-
Harry felt like a piece of shit. 
It wasn’t often that he felt like that, but knowing he had done something that obviously made Y/N uncomfortable. The icky, nasty guilt and shame settled in his stomach as he sat on the couch he’d just steam cleaned, face in his hands. He’d known it had been a dumb idea to bring a girl back from the gym on a whim. He’d felt weird about it at first, but he’d been positive Y/N was at work and he’d have time to clean up and whatever before she came home. 
It was worse considering he chose a common area. He’d been so fucking horny, and the girl had been more than willing to be the one who relieved him. To be honest, he didn’t know her and probably wouldn’t ever see her again, but that didn’t matter now. The impulsive decision, his lack of awareness and selfishness had gotten him into a mess. This wasn’t just his flat. Y/N had been here first, she had bought this couch, and he had been selfish and done something on it that he knew he’d probably be a bit peeved about if she had done the same thing. 
Truthfully, he’d be hurt if he had to listen to Y/N get fucked. Even more so if he saw it but, he didn’t know what she knew. What she saw. It made him panic a little internally because there was no way he could get what he wanted with her now. He’d fucked up massively and he didn’t know how to fix it. 
His crush on Y/N had been an inconvenience he was truly trying to get over. She made no implications that she liked him back and he had been trying to learn how to be okay with that. How was she ever going to believe that he liked her when she was witness to him fucking all his pent up sexual aggression, aggression she unknowingly caused by walking out in her little sleep shorts this morning riding up her bum, onto another woman? There was no way she was going to take him seriously. His head was beginning to hurt as he tried to think of a way to apologize. 
Ordering her favorite pizza, he had it delivered to their flat and thanked the man with a tip before placing it on their dining table. The nerves were overrun as he made his way towards her door, the cold panic in his stomach making its way up his throat as he hesitantly raised his knuckles to knock on the door. 
“Love?” There as a brief silence and he held his breath, hoping he didn’t fuck it up enough to the point where she hated him. 
“Yeah?” The hesitant voice was smaller than the one he was used to, making him deflate a little bit. At least she answered. 
“I um, I got pizza for dinner. Your favorite.” His hands rested against her doorframe as he spoke through the door. “Did you- would you want to come out and eat with me? We can watch a movie or a show.” The attempt was something, at least. 
“I…” she paused. “If it’s alright I’d like to eat in my room. I’ll pay you back for the pizza.” He could almost hear her brain going. “I don’t think I’d like to sit on the couch for a while.”
His stomach dropped. God damn it. He really did make her uncomfortable, enough where she didn’t want to eat with him or sit in their living area. He felt his throat thicken, frustration building in his veins that was unfairly aimed at her. 
“I said I was sorry, Y/N.” He grunted. “Why don’t you want to eat with me? I steamed the couch, it’s safe to sit on now and I just want to fix it. So can you please get over it a little bit and come and eat?” 
Of course he regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to talk to her like that. The frustration was aimed at himself and not her, but it came out all wrong. He heard her hitch in breath as she shuffled on her bed, opening the door to look at him with a blazing glare that made him shrink back. The man had never been in the receiving end of her anger before. 
“No, I’m not going to just get over it, Harry. Walking into my living room and seeing you pound some woman into the couch I like to take my naps on, a couch I bought before you even lived here may I add, is a bit jarring. We had rules about bringing people over and it’s supposed to stay in our rooms. Obviously it doesn’t fucking matter when you think I’m not home and I’m kind of sick at the thought of what else I may have sat on or slept in because you decided to disrespect me in our home.” She snarled, looking up at him with the severe gaze.  “If you really think all you have to do is buy some pizza and offer to watch a show with me and I’m just going to forget that you’ve gone behind my back, you’d be sorely mistaken. I’ve never lied to you, never once.” The look of betrayal had his stomach turning. “Just… leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk about it.” 
He watched as she slammed the door in his face, his body hot with embarrassment as she locked it. A clear sign she didn’t want to talk to him and it made him feel even worse than before. The words he said had been out of line and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to handle fighting with Y/N. It had never happened until this moment. 
“I’m sorry. Y/N, I-I don’t know why I said that but I just-“
“Harry. I asked you to leave me alone. Can you just respect this one fucking thing?” Her raised voice made him jump, eyes widening at the tone. Being at the receiving end of her anger wasn’t something he ever wanted to happen. “Just… go eat your pizza and leave me be. I’m not hungry.” 
It stumped him. He didn’t know how else to fix it. How could he? She was still very upset and he had fucked up, but what was even worse was knowing that he liked her way more than she liked him and having nothing to prove it by. He had brought home women that looked like her to try and get it out of his system many a time, but it never worked. 
To her, he was her silly, clumsy, charming friend. He was a shoulder to lean on, maybe. But to him? She was incredible. She was honest, brave, intelligent, witty, and so fucking pretty it was hard to look at her without wanting to touch sometimes. 
He’d never made a move because she didn’t seem like she was interested. She’d never gazed at his mouth the way he knew he looked at hers, she didn’t elongate the hugs- he was the one that would let go last. She’d been a friend to him when all he could think about was cupping her face and kissing her lips until they were swollen and she was breathless. He’d gone and mucked up any chance he had with her seeing him as anything more. 
Going back into the kitchen, he put the pizza into the fridge and returned back into his room. He wasn’t hungry anymore. All he was going to be able to focus on was the ability to fix this. 
——-
Y/N knew she was probably overreacting a little bit. It wasn’t as if he had killed someone. He’d broken a rule, yes, but she wasn't a tyrant. It shouldn’t matter to her so much, and that’s what she had been trying to figure out. Why did it?
She just didn’t like the answer she came up with. 
The girl was jealous. That was the thing that she could see, even if she didn’t want to. She was jealous because she’d never been fucked like that, never been touched in that way, talked to that way, and it had never been by Harry. He’d made her see him in a different light and now she was thinking about him in a way she shouldn’t be. 
She’d always loved Harry. He was a friend and her roommate, of course she was going to have fondness for him. It had never seemed like there were any feelings there, nothing had been outwardly there, no jealousy when he spoke of other people, but…. Seeing it? It had been arousing, yes, but after she thought about it for a bit it’d felt like a kick in the stomach. Why had he never tried anything with her before? Was he just that much of a flirt? It wasn’t a secret that he liked to fool around but somehow, things in her brain were changing and making her feel irritational. 
The sexual frustration that came from that was, well…. Stupidly frustrating. It made her wonder what his hands felt like, what his lips tasted like. If he would treat her the same way, or if he would be gentler. If he would kiss her neck and tell her she was a good girl, that she was taking it so well, if he would smack her ass too. It made her feel guilty that she even thought about him that way. 
Avoiding him for 3 days was a bit overkill, for sure. But she didn’t know how to look him in the face. How could she after all of that? It didn’t help that no matter where she tried to bring her fantasies when she would touch herself, it came back to him. The last three days had been plagued by the thought of him grabbing her hair and tugging her head back for a sloppy kiss while he was balls deep, praising her for it. 
He’d been sweet about it. Leaving her donuts one morning, flowers another. This morning it had been a hand written note. 
‘Y/N
I can’t express to you how sorry I am that I broke our rule. I know you don’t ask for much of me as a roommate and I promised I’d uphold them, and I fucked up. I had a lapse in judgment and I regret it a lot more than you can imagine. 
I don’t know how to fix this with us. I want to. I miss you and I miss talking to you but I’m trying to give you the space you need even if it hurts. I made the mistake and I’m paying for it. 
I promise I won’t ever do it again. I won’t bring someone home again, if that could help. Please talk to me when you’re ready. I miss you so much more than you could know. I’m not trying to buy you over with the gifts but I don’t know what else to do without making you uncomfortable. It’s killing me to know I hurt you at all. I’ve never done it before, though. I promise. I’ve never had anyone else there. It truly was a mistake. 
I’ll be home at my normal time if you want to talk, I’m bringing home Italian food. I’ll grab your favorite. Text me if you need, I’d love to hear from you.
H xx’
The note sounded genuine. It’s why she placed a blanket over the couch and sat stiffly as he walked into the door, noticing his double take as he hung up his keys. The bag of food hung off his arm and he looked at her wide eyed, though staying quiet as he went into the kitchen to place it down. 
“Hi.” He started, walking over to her slowly. “D-Did you have a good day?” The nerves could be heard in his voice and it made her sad. She didn’t want him to be terribly nervous around her, not when they used to have a really comfortable relationship. 
“It was okay.” She murmured, rubbing her hand over her lounge pants. “Got off of work early.” What else was she supposed to say? It was hard to navigate this when she’d never imagined fighting with Harry at all. 
“Oh? That’s good.” He sat on the coffee table in front of her, wanting to face forward when he spoke to her. “I had to stay a tiny bit late. It’s why I wasn’t home on time. I’m sorry.” His eyes were studying her face, desperate to see forgiveness in her eyes. The last few days without her had felt so empty. 
“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Figured something like that happened.”  Picking at her nails, she moved to look at him. “I’m not sure how to talk to you right now. I’m not angry anymore, but I don’t know how to go about it.” Y/N, as blunt as ever, made him smile sadly.
“M’crawling out of my skin. Don’t like that I made you upset at all. It was stupid. You read my note?” He anxiously awaited all day a text from her but he hadn’t gotten one. 
“I did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m upset about the couch thing but there’s layers to it that have been difficult for me to understand. It isn’t fair of me to sit and say it’s all your fault I stayed away for the last few days because part of it was me.” It was terrifying to admit things like this but she didn’t know how else to be. It would probably make things weird with them, but it had to be discussed or it would ruin their friendship. 
“How do you mean?” Brows furrowed as he shifted forward, hands on his knees as he leaned into her space. He’d always been a touchy person who didn’t know what personal space was, so she was used to it but it still made her react. A bit differently this time. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” It was difficult to look at him without feeling that burn in her stomach. “It made me look at you differently. A way I hadn’t allowed myself to look at you before, and I’ve felt guilty and…” how could she word it? “Slightly perverted for it. You’re my friend and I shouldn’t have let seeing that influence anything other than my upset about the rules, but it made me think of you in a light that friends shouldn’t look at other friends.” 
Well, he hadn’t expected that. 
He was slowly catching on, watching her shy face as she looked back towards her lap and fiddled with her hands. She looked at him in a sexual way. That’s why she was avoiding him. The couch issue was one thing, but she was upset that she was looking at a friend in a way that went past their normal relationship. 
As fucked up as it may be, he felt a sprinkle of hope. Her postures perked up a bit as he tried to get her eyes again, but he didn’t want to assume she wanted anything from him. “That’s okay, love.” His hand cautiously grabbed one of hers, holding it lax enough that she could pull back if she wanted to. “Really. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, relief flooding him that the majority of the reason she had been avoiding him was something like this. Something he could remedy. “So you’ve been thinking of me sexually, that’s what you’re saying?”
Y/N groaned, closing her eyes as her head fell back against her shoulders. “God, yes. Okay?! And I’m ashamed of it. I don’t know why it happened and why I can’t just forget about it but it makes me…’it made me annoyed that I haven’t felt anything like that before. I’ve never made noises like that and no one’s ever made me feel like what I assume she was. I’ve always seen you as something else and then, imagine my fucking surprise when I walk in and see you acting like a porn star. Not even one of the bad ones either. It would have been easier if it was!” The floodgates opened and Harry watched with raised brows as she continued, fueling his ego in the process. “I feel guilty pthat I looked at it and wanted to be in that position. I never thought of you like that, not that you aren’t amazing and attractive but you were supposed to just be my platonic friend considering we’d roommates. Don’t you know how bad it would be to be into your roommate? It makes everything insane.” 
“I know how it feels.” He murmured, making her pause. If she was unloading all of this stuff, being honest as honest could be, he figured he may as well. Let it all set out on the table. 
“Wait- what?” She squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes this time. It had been a mistake, she thought, until he shrugged his shoulders. 
“Yeah. I’ve always thought of you like that, but you didn’t seem to reciprocate so I tried to get over it. I was distracting myself so I wouldn’t fuck up our friendship.” It was his turn to look at his lap, watching his freshly painted thumb run over her knuckles and fiddle with her ring. “Always worried about making you feel like… objectified in your own home. I wanted to be respectful. But do you really think I’m not attracted to you?” He found the courage to look up again. “I’ve been attracted to you since we first met. But you’ve always been so nonchalant about everything, I assumed you didn’t care.”
Y/N was stumped. Harry was into her? He wanted to touch her this whole time and she had been none the wiser? It made her pause, trying to recount all their memories. Had he always looked at her like this? With the soft glint in his eyes, or with the hunger? Yearning, perhaps was the word. She’d never even guessed that in the slightest. He’s had a revolving door of partners coming over to fuck around, but she thought that’s just how he was.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to make you feel obligated to cater to my feelings. I still don’t. If you aren’t into me like that, it’s okay. I want our friendship to remain in tact. But I needed to tell you it’s not one sided. You don’t have to feel guilty over thinking of me like that considering the only reason I took that girl home was because you’d made me sexually frustrated that morning with those little sleep shorts and coming in for a hug and pressed your sleepy, soft body against me. I needed to get that out.” He knew it didn’t make much sense when he said it out loud. 
“Did it work?”
That hadn’t been the response he expected, blinking a few times as he gave her a questioning look. “Did what work?” 
“Fucking her. Did you get me out of your mind?” She looked at him expectantly and he could feel the heat starting to raise in his cheeks. He’d expected… not this sort of train of thought, but he wasn’t about to lie again. 
“Not really.” He admitted. “I mean… in the moment, an orgasm helped. But I wasn’t fucking the person I was thinking about.” 
This time Y/N blinked a few times at him, trying to catch up mentally. “So…’you were thinking about me, when you…”
“Yes.” Unashamed at this point, there was nothing to lose. 
“And all the things you were saying? You were like….” Her eyes fell to his mouth. Pretty and pink, obviously nervously bitten, she had been a little shocked at the revelation. “You were saying them to me? In your head?”
“Basically.” He could see on her face that she was flustered but chose not to tease her about it like he normally would. “I usually bring people back that look like you. Tried to do people who were the opposite but, it made it harder to cum.” The gloves were off now. There was a shift in the air as she adjusted herself on the couch, pressing her thighs together and desperately hoping he didn’t notice. 
He did. 
“You can’t… finish? Unless you think about me?” It made her eyes stay wide, her grip on his hand tightening slightly out of reflex. 
“Well… I can, but it isn’t as good. Usually that’s where my head goes to. I can’t really help it.” Harry came the hardest when he looked at where his cock connected to the other person, imagining it being her cunt he was fucking. Her moans. That the praises that he was saying was heard by her and the clenching and slickness was caused by her reaction to him. It was a bit pathetic and he knew it, but at least it wasn’t a secret anymore. 
“Do you still want to?” 
Harry’s head whipped up so fast he knew he must have pulled a muscle, but there wasn’t a tract of joking on her face. Was she asking what he thought she was. “Do I still want to fuck you?” He clarified, watching her bother head in response. Fuck. The lump in his throat was swallowed as he tried to reply the best way he could. “Of course I do. I’ve been thinking about it for ages but… it’s not just about sex with you.” It was much more than that. “I actually like you. I’d want… I wouldn’t want to have sex once and be done with it. I’d want to properly take you out at some point.” It was a bit unorthodox considering they already lived together but he wouldn’t want to give her any less than she deserved. 
“Okay.” She said softly. “We can do that.” 
His head was spinning. Y/N was so casual about it, not hesitant at all in her agreement to basically be something with him. It felt like he was in a dream, but the frantic beats of his heart made him understand he was very much awake. “Yeah?” He leaned in closer. “You’d want to do it all with me?” The voice was hushed even though there was no one else around. 
Tonight was full of surprises, it seemed, when the girl got up from the couch and made the move to straddle his lap. His hand was quick to wrap around her to make sure she didn’t fall, but his body burned as she ran a hand through his hair and he tilted it up to look at her. They’d never been this close before and he was already growing in his pants, making him shiver as she leaned down to brush her nose against his. “Yeah. I’d like to go on a date with you, too but…” she took a moment to rub it against his own, back and forth. Making his eyes hood a bit as his arm shifted to pull her closer to him, desperate for the contact. “I want you to fuck me, first. Make me cum harder than the other girl did. I want to make those noises, H.” She whispered. 
Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Not when she was sitting right on his lap, presenting herself like the perfect little present. Willing and eager for the taking. Leaning himself up, he caught her lips in a gentle kiss. Trying to pace himself, though he could feel the self control slipping from his grip as she hummed into his mouth. This was he shit he had been dying for, feeling her fingers slip from his hair to the back of his neck as he pulled apart to take a breath. “I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart. Anything.” 
Back again their lips were attached. It wasn’t as gentle, no, not when she kissed him harder. He was going to give into anything she wanted. Not only because he had fucked up, but because he wanted to make her happy. He was desperate to please her, to make her feel as good as she possibly could and he wanted to be the one responsible for it. 
Their kissing escalated quickly, groaning as she easily opened her mouth for him and even more so when she sucked on his tongue, making arousal zip up his spine. He’d never expect her to kiss like this, not in the slightest. The expectation had been soft and hesitant, but she was giving him the kisses in his wet dreams. His hand found her ass, palming over it before giving a squeeze, making a moan muffle against his mouth. “Take me to your room.” She whispered against his lips. “Please, H. Just take me there. I want these off.” Fingers tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. 
Who was he to deny her? 
He helped her toss it off before grabbing her and standing up, chuckling when she squeaked his name and scrambled to hold on to him with her arms around his neck. “Said I’d give you whatever you wanted, love.” 
The walk there was short, but it took an even shorter time to get her on his bed with her top off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, much to his surprise and delight. The fabric was tossed to the side of his bed as his pupils dilated, looking down at her topless body. Something he had been dreaming about for ages, and here she was. Sitting pretty in his sheets, hair messy and lips swollen from kissing him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He drawled, running his hands down her sides. “So beautiful. Y’know that? Drives me fucking mad.” His fingers were greedy, crawling back up to her collarbones and back down to the curves of her breasts. “Been dying to see you.”
Y/N took his wrists, guiding his hands to cup her breasts. She was impatient and that much was obvious, but it made him amused more than anything else. His eager girl. “Touch me. Please.” Her eyes matched the pleading in her voice, making him smile. This sort of begging he’d never expected from her, not with her usual strong will and blunt demeanor but he couldn’t say he hated it. 
“I’m going to, lovely. It’s all I want to do.” He soothed, thumbing across her nipples. She arched into it, letting out a soft sound as he did so. It seemed like once the wall had cracked, it was deteriorating quickly right in front of his eyes. He’d be the one to get to see her like this now after pining for it, and he knew she would be the best. Anyone else had been filler, as cruel as it sounded. He was respectful towards them, honest about only wanting to hook up once, because he knew that no matter how hard he tried to imagine nothing would beat he real thing. 
And he’d been right. 
No one else affected him so quickly, so intensely. Watching her mouth fall open as he moved to pinch both of her nipples lightly and tug, she whimpered into the air and gave him a look he wanted to commit to memory. He wanted to see that face every time he closed his eyes. 
“My lovely girl… don’t need to beg me to touch you, because you know I will… but.” He leaned down to kiss her again. “I do like the sound of your voice while you beg for me.” 
His hands moved from her breasts regretfully, clicking his tongue to hush her whine of protest as he hooked his fingers into her lounge pants. Pulling them down, he was met with a beautiful picture- a filthy one. His eyes shot to hers, narrowing slightly. “No fucking panties either? Y/N.” He hissed between his teeth. “Are you always walkin’ around like this? Nothing on underneath?” She nodded quickly, kicking the pants off of her ankles. 
“Hate them.” The girl huffed. “So constricting. I don’t wear them when I don’t have to.” 
His eyes closed for a moment, groaning at the information. “So every time you’ve been sitting there with me, watching one of those movies… I could have slipped my hand down your shorts and felt how wet you get for me?” He questioned, looking down at her. His fingers tugged at his belt, tossing it haphazardly as his eyes stayed pinned to hers as he continued undressing. “You’re telling me…. You prance around here in those little cotton shorts, and you’re bare under them? Could have just… tugged them down and gotten to see that pretty pussy?”
“Mhm.” She grinned, liking the reaction she was getting. “Everything you said. I don’t usually wear them at home.” Her fingers dragged down her stomach, stopping at the mound right above her cunt. “Makes it easier when I want to touch myself, too. Less layers.” 
Harry took a deep breath, watching her hand as it slipped further down to cover her cunt. It was wet, there no was no hiding it. He could see it clearly, and his cock was aching to bury itself in there and let it squeeze every drop of cum from him. He tried to collect himself as he looked down at her, watching her fingers spread herself open for a moment before swirling over her clit with a whimper. 
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, a dark look on his face. “Not yet. That’s my job tonight.” He warned, falling to his knees in front of her. Clad just in his briefs, he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her close to him, so close that he could almost taste her. Instead, he kissed her inner thighs. Soft, sweet. Gentle in the way he had always wanted to be with her before her fucked her and made her hopefully as addicted to him as he knew he was going to be to her. “You okay with this, love? Tell me you want me to have you.” Lips pressed on the soft mound above her cunt. “Tell me I can.” 
“Please, I’m okay. I want you to have me, you can do anything you want. Just… touch me. Please, H.” Her hips tried to move up and catch his mouth, Y/N showing no sign of embarrassment as she did so. He felt a surge of pride, knowing she wanted him that badly. Her body was perfect for him, every dip and curve and scar soon to be memorized. He’d call off of work tomorrow to spend the day in bed with her, pampering and spoiling not only herself, but his innermost desires. 
“Such good manners.” He cooed, shifting her closer as he took his first lick. “Remember what I said about begging, yeah?” 
It was all bets off. Y/N could barely breathe as she felt his mouth on her. Slowly licking up her and tongue finding her clit, flicking over it and repeating the process. His hand held her lower tummy, keeping her still as he continued. Her breathing was already picking up when he felt his tongue dip into her, making her grip fall from her own thighs to his hair. “Oh my god, Harry. That-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence as he did it again, nuzzling into her without a care in the world.
It was true. He wanted his face messy and wet with her, wanted to bury himself in there and feel her stomach jump as his hand held her down. He was tasting her directly from the source. “Taste so good.” He mumbled against her. “My favorite thing to taste now. You know that?” He took another broad sweep of his tongue, looking into her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit on her clit. He smirked at the little gasp she let out, head dipping back down to spread it over her cunt as she began to move her hips to chase his tongue. “No, baby. None of that. Stay still for me.” He coaxed, pressing down harder on her stomach to pin her to the bed. 
Y/N tried, she really did. But it felt so good, so fucking amazing- and then he added his fingers into the mix. Slipping one in slowly, she let out a noise she didn’t recognize. Of course she knew this was going to feel good, but she vastly underestimated how crazy he was going to make her. “Harry please… fuck.” Truthfully? She didn’t even know what she was begging for. Her mouth fell open again and she arched her back as she felt his mouth over her clit, sucking in in messily while his finger fucked into her. It was impossible to stay still. “Harry, more. I want more, please, I’m gonna cum if you….” She lost her train of thought when he added another finger. 
The man was eating this up. Watching her as she tried to keep still for him but feeling her fingers curl in his hair and press him further against her clit, he sucked harded the more she pushed. Finding a good rhythm as his pulsing sucking had her panting, toes curling into the sheet as he continued the pleasure filled torture. He wanted to feel her cum on his tongue. 
“Cum.” He ordered. “Do it for me, precious girl. C’mon.” He finally allowed her to move, rubbing herself on his face as his fingers fucked and curled into her, his mouth latched to her puffy, swollen clit. She felt crazy, she was sure of it, writhing on the mattress as the heat crawled up her body. His eyes were directly on her, hot and dark while she felt herself fall over the edge. 
“Harry- Harry, oh my fucking god.” She couldn’t breathe, repeating his name like it was air as she fell over the edge. White hot pleasure washing over her, orgasm soaking his face as he pulled up and kissed her hard. Her body still shook as he pulled himself out of his briefs and began to push in, feeling her still orgasming pussy quivering around him. “You just- please.” Her eyes opened frantically, fingers finding his back as she pulled him in. Legs wrapped around his waist as he sunk in deeper, filling her up in ways she hadn’t felt before. 
“I know, baby. I know.” He cooed. “You feel… so good around me. Just let me in.” He cupped her face, pressing soft kisses to her mouth. “I’m going to take you all fucking night. You know that?” His voice was a deeper tone than she’d even heard him with the other girl. Feeling it directed at her only amplified the arousal. “Not going to last long, feeling you and taste you… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Almost came just licking you out.” He told the truth. Y/N was perfect, he thinks. Exactly what he needed. 
“I want it all.” She replied, pulling his face down further to kiss him deeper. “So much. I want you to do anything to me. Just…” her legs tugged him in deeper, making them both groan. “Just fuck me, Harry. It’s me this time.” It boosted her ego to know he had been searching for her this entire time. “It’s not someone you have to pretend with. You’ve wanted me this whole time? Show me.” Her nails dragged down his back, making him shiver. “Fuck me like you own me.”
Something in that triggered something in him, something he’d been hiding all along. Kissing her hard to shut her up, he slid out of her to ram back in. Jolting her, she cried out against his lips as he did it again. Hard thrusts paired with a grind at the end, pulling out slowly only to repeat it. She’d never been fucked like this- so purposefully. “Yes- like that, H.” The girl whimpered. “Please. Use me. Have me.” 
“Yeah? You want to be mine?” He asked, wild eyes looking into her own as he pressed his forehead against hers, not caring about the stickiness of their sweat. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to be wrapped up by your cunt? Hm?” He spoke against her lips, smiling drunkenly as she whimpered with his intent thrusts. “Since I first saw you. Wanted to drag you to your bed and fill you up. Make you cry for me. And every day since… It's been growing.” The desire for her has grown to something he hadn’t ever thought possible. It was hard to ignore. Thank god he never had to ignore it again. “Every day, I thought about pulling you into my arms and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. You think anyone else could ever compare to you?” He shook his head to answer his own question. “No. No one. Not anyone I’ve taken home, not the girl from the other day… no one has made me feel as good as this.” 
Harry had always loved sex, but when he met Y/N and developed the attraction and then feelings for her, he’d been chasing a high that couldn’t be provided by anyone else. This, this was exactly what he needed. “Need to stay inside of you, sweet girl. Need to… fuck.” Some hair fell into his face as his thrusts sped up just slightly. It was hard to think when her walls were contracting around him, so slick and hot that it made him dizzy. “Need to cum in you and do it again… and again.” He knew she was on birth control considering he’d gone with her to get the implant. They were safe, but that didn’t stop him for perhaps wishing it wasn’t. “Just want to make you mine, my sweet fucking girl….” His head lulled forward as he looked down to watch them. 
It was a filthy sight. His bare cock pulling out, glistening with her arousal and mess. Her cunt stretching open, her lips puffy and wet just for him. He was doing this. He was filling her up, he was making her cling to him, and he was finally inside the one person he’d never thought he could have. “Look at how good we are together. Look with me, baby.” He pulled her up slightly, holding the back of her neck to let her see the filthy sight. His prick spreading her while the wet, puffy lips of her cunt as he filled her. “Touch yourself. Rub that clit for me.” 
Y/N did as requested, finding it quickly as she watched the now slower thrusts inside of her. It made her smug, really. Knowing that he was this enthralled with her. Also, the knowledge that he was losing his mind far more over her than he had the other girl. He was obsessed with her and she could visibly see it. 
“There we go.Pretty, pretty fucking girl. You’re all I want. This body, that mouth, S’all I dream about. Just want you in my bed, want to get rid of those damn rules so I can take you on every damn surface… please let me, angel. Please.” He pleaded. “No more rules. Only want you.”
“No more rules.” She nodded, finding the pleasure building back up. Her hand rubbing her already sensitive and puffy clit, watching as her arousal began to make a creamier mess on his cock, she was in awe of how perfect they looked together. “H… you’re gonna make me cum.” 
Harry smiled, a real smile that took her breath away. “Thank god. I’m trying to hold on for you, but m’so close.” He let her lay back down, leaning over her and speeding the pace back up as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. It was hard to focus on one thing when he’d been dying for this situation for a year. He had his dream girl wrapped around his cock. 
Fingers found his hair again as she arched into his mouth, mewling as he sucked over her nipple and fucked into her at a steady speed. He was hitting right where he needed to, her fingers rubbing circles on her clit. It was messy and wet and so perfect, it was hard to keep herself together. “Please.” She whined. “Please, can I cum? Let me cum, I need to. I want you in me and I want to feel your cum inside me, mark me, make me yours.” She pleaded, feeling him pull off her other nipple with a pant.
“Don’t have to hold back from me. M’gonna go right after you, just want you to feel good. Let go for me, my good girl. I’m yours, always have been. You’re already mine.” His nose brushed hers, moving her hand to take over rubbing her clit. He did it faster, a bit more pressure and that little difference with his permission was all it took for her to let go.
Harry felt it as she did. The pulsing of her cunt, the slickness growing and the way her mouth went lax, not able to kiss but only breath him in as she tumbled into the pleasure. Her legs tightened around him, nails digging into the back of his neck as her eyes fell closed, the prettiest moan vibrated against his lips. 
It pushed him right off the edge with her. Thrusts growing sloppy, he didn’t lighten up with his hand as he felt her contracting around him, sopping wet and tight for him as he felt his balls tighten and unload into her. His deep groan was loud, louder than he’d anticipated as he kissed her to try and muffle it. He could feel himself throbbing as her cunt sucked him in, greedy for it as the pulsating of her walls drew each ribbon of cum into her. She was coated, and he underestimated just how much he had as it began to spill out of her as he filled her to the brim. 
“Oh my god.” He whispered. “Fuck me, baby. You’re perfect.” It was a bit of disbelief that coated his tone. Lips fell all over her face, pressing soft pecks over her cheeks, her chin, nose, eyelids, forehead, everywhere he could get it as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. It was the hardest he’d ever came, and he still felt shaky from it as he stayed buried in her. Where he belonged. Y/N melted under the kisses, smiling wide as her eyes peeled open to look at him. Dark eyes and flushed face, messy hair she continued to drag her fingertips into. One fell from the softness, cupping his chin and pulling it back to her mouth for a proper kiss. It seemed to make him melt as well, sagging slightly on top of her despite being mindful of his weight on her body. 
Harry knew this was the start of something much bigger than either of them could have anticipated- and it all started because of his silly mistake. He’d finally gotten the one he wanted. No more pretending with anyone else. He had the real thing at home. 
Y/N nudged his nose with hers, feeling so many things her head felt overwhelmed. But the most important question had to be asked. “So. When can we do it again?”
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unabashegirl · 10 months
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Enticing (masterlist)
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Summary: Harry Styles is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?
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CHARACTER’s cast list
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 43 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 44 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 45 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 46 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 47 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 48 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 49 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 50 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 51 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 52 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 53 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 54 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 55 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 56 (early access only on Patreon)
Chapter 57 (early access only on Patreon)
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moonchildstyles · 8 months
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vervain
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rosemary part six: harry goes home for the first time.
wordcount: 14.9k+
—————
The green sign advertising the city limits glinted in the sunlight. Thirty-six hours of driving with two overnight stops had finally brought them home. 
Over the center console, Harry had his arm stretched out with his hand in (Y/N)'s lap, their hands tangled together. 
A sense of deja-vu washed over him at the familiar sight despite the unfamiliar circumstances. The first time he saw this sign, Harry was numb. This was just another stop on the endless journey he had embarked on before he even really knew what it would mean to run away. He'd shut every meaningful part of himself away, ensuring the pain and guilt and sorrow wouldn't have a chance to strike him. 
This time around, despite the same sign in front of him, the same sun shining over him, the same town welcoming him in, everything was different. That solid facade now held irreparable cracks.
The soft parts of him that held happiness and healing, vulnerability and contentedness, were finally being exposed after so long of being hidden away from the light. In trying his best to keep everything from hurting so much, he eliminated every chance of happiness or redemption. 
While the cracks were raw and sore, the fact he could feel them was enough for Harry to find the bright side of the pain. More and more of the positives began to seep in even if he had to dig through the tunnel of hurt still. 
(Y/N) squeezed his hand as the view of the town came over the horizon. It was odd seeing it look so normal; nothing had changed since they left, despite the fact everything had changed. Even the way he saw the small village had changed. This was no longer a single stop on the way to another hiding place. There was no reason to run any more if he didn't want to. This could be his home. 
Harry's house was the first stop they made. It was quick and quiet, Harry only stopping off to see if he even still had a home here. 
(Y/N) followed him through the apartment, their hands entwined with her behind. Everything was just as Harry had left it. His sheets were still a mess, his closet doors thrown open, and his kitchen sparsely stocked with canned food. He never thought he'd see this place again; no matter what had happened on the road, he never saw himself coming back here for any other reason than to return (Y/N) to her life before he was gone again. Now, this place held a small sense of permanence as he made plans on how he was going to have to fix up certain areas he messed up in his quick escape and what kind of fixtures he would add to his limited furniture. 
But all of that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he would be at (Y/N)'s—at her request. She had wanted to take a shower in her own bathroom and sleep in her own bed, but she wanted Harry to be there as well. He had no qualms about that plan. (He wouldn't be able to admit it, but he didn't think he would have been able to drop her off and go their separate ways anyway. Not after everything). 
Other than the key he plucked from the door jamb and the clothes he dropped off to be washed later, nothing was changed in his apartment in their wake. 
Harry drove slowly through the town, as if becoming familiar for the first time with the place he had called home for almost nine months. Her gingerbread neighbourhood was just as perfect as when he left it last, though things looked that much sweeter now without the veil of panic and lies. 
With their bags packed over his shoulder, (Y/N) led him inside with her. Everything felt pleasantly mundane as they shed their shoes just like they did the night they kissed, their bags being deposited in her bedroom after. Her kitchen was the exact same, his memories being refreshed instead of being reflected through the photographs he still needed to burn. 
They were settled for less than two minutes before a frantic knocking on the front door sent his heart rattling behind his ribs. He could hear (Y/N) gasp from the kitchen, her steps stilling. A moment passed before he saw her creep down the hallway from the corner of his eye. He figured he looked a lot like her then: wide eyes, tense muscles, and too many memories filling in the background. 
Another round of pounding knocks along with muffled voices started again, Harry wincing as he was transported back to the motel for a split second. He rose to his feet from where he sat on the couch, those lingering protective instincts awakening. His imagination ran too wild as it filled in the gaps of who could be waiting on the other side of the door. 
(Y/N) recovered faster than him, her gaze turning to him. It was the sight of her, eyes softened, muscles relaxing, that had him remembering that there wasn't anything for him to fear on the other side. 
Everything was over. It was done. He was safe now. 
A careful smile spread across her lips when he met her gaze. That was all he needed to relax, his shoulders falling as he stayed on his feet. 
He watched as she approached the door, another batch of frantic knocking being cut off when she turned the bolt. Pulling the knob, (Y/N) had her free hand bundled into a fist at her side; no matter how calm she tried to portray herself, he knew she felt some of the same tremors he did. Harry kept his eyes trained onto the widening gap of the door, readying himself despite the mantra he tried to remind himself. 
Standing in a pair on the porch were friends of (Y/N)'s Harry recognized from the bakery. They were restless, hands shaking and feet rocking. Her hand was raised to knock once more on the door, but the limb was dropped when she caught sight of (Y/N). Their faces broke into bubbling grins and sparkling eyes the second the door opened. 
In a blink, the pair was climbing all over (Y/N), exclaiming her name with wavering voices. 
"Where were you?" one of them called, voice muffled by their embrace. 
"Everyone has been so worried. People started searching for you," the other bubbled off, just as teary as the first. 
The moment melted into a teary reunion full of tangled limbs and bubbling joy. Through the chatter, Harry was able to suss out that one of (Y/N)'s neighbours had spotted their return and a single text had started a chain reaction. Half the town was now apparently making plans to stop by and see them. That's what happened when someone like (Y/N) worked at one of the most popular spots in a small town; it was hard not to get attached to her, Harry could attest. 
Rising over the noise, he could hear the dips and curves of (Y/N)'s laugh. She was being covered in love and affection, small tears of joy highlighting the round of her cheek as her friends wiped them away. Harry could only stand back and watch, a cautious smile tipping his lips. 
This was what he had pictured every time he didn't see an end to the motels and the hours on the road. This was the moment he had been working towards the second he stole her away in the middle of the night. 
He'd kept her safe. He returned her to her home and to the people who loved her. 
Harry kept his promise. 
A head of long, dark hair popped up over the teary puppy pile, watery eyes looking right at him. It was Sabrina, her familiar features glimmering in tears with a bright smile stretching her lips. 
"Harry!" Breaking from the group, Sabrina barreled towards him with open arms. 
Taken aback, Harry hesitated with his arms hovering around her while her own looped around his middle. From the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N) looking to him with a beaming smile. He relaxed at the sight, reciprocating Sabrina's hold. 
"We were all so worried," she told him, voice muffled against his chest, "When you didn't show at the grocery store and no one had heard from (Y/N), we all panicked." 
"I—uh—," Harry stumbled around his tongue, unable to find the words. He didn't know how to respond to a reaction like this. He knew (Y/N) would have been missed, but this was unexpected. He never thought it would matter if returned to this town or not. "'M sorry, Sabrina. We—uh—We didn't really have a chance to talk to anyone," he settled on, sounding just as overwhelmed as he felt. 
Sabrina pulled away first, giving Harry a joyous smile. Before much else could be said, another light knock sounded from the front door. 
(Y/N) answered it once more, having barely made it out of the front hallway before being attacked in clinging embraces. This time waiting on the other side was a face much more familiar to Harry: Ms. Klarke from the library. 
Instead of her usual librarian attire, she had a pair of dirty, ripped jeans on with a button-up top in yellow gingham. The high points of her face were highlighted with a warm flush, her hair tied back in a twisting braid. Her eyes lit up once she spotted who was waiting inside (Y/N)'s home. 
"You really are back!" she beamed, "When I got the phone call, I was scared to believe it." 
"Ms. Klarke!" (Y/N) greeted her, sweeping an arm to her side in a gesture to let her in. The bakery girls joined Harry in the living room while the new addition entered. "We didn't mean to worry you, I'm sorry." 
Waving them off, Ms. Klarke shook her head. "I'm just happy you're alright," she started, her gaze landing on Harry, "And, you. I've been saving all these books in the back for you—you can't leave me waiting like that!" 
Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry bit back a smile while his eyes began to warm. He didn't know what to say, his voice feeling lost in his throat at the kind of attention he was earning. 
Talking for them, (Y/N) piped up as she stepped into the living room, "Harry had a family emergency a few hours away and we didn't have any time to tell anyone before we had to leave, then my charger broke, and it was a whole mess. We're sorry we scared you guys—I wish I had been able to reach out." 
Harry couldn't tune into the chatter that erupted then, his heart too big for his chest. He felt as if he were floating in this room, weightless as he tried to anchor himself to the moment. More and more faces appeared as more people came through to celebrate their return. 
Patrons he remembered from the bakery came by ("We left your table free for you, where did you go?"), coworkers from the grocery store ("We tried to beat your stocking times, but it's not as fun when you're not there to give us a grumpy look!"), and people Harry didn't even know were there to rejoice in seeing he and (Y/N) again. A scene he could only recognize out of a movie scene or a passage in a book began to form in (Y/N)'s living room.
Standing in the middle of it all, bruised and overwhelmed, Harry couldn't think of any time he'd been happier,
Meeting (Y/N)'s smiling eyes across the room, he knew today was always going to be one of the best days of his life.
—————
"Are you not tired?" 
(Y/N) looked at him through the fan of her lashes, eyes exhausted after the night they'd had. Her home had become a revolving door of townsfolk coming in and out to greet them upon their return. More than a handful of times, (Y/N) had to reiterate their cover story, doling out extra details only when asked—more than once, she shared a look with him across the room as if to ensure he was on board with their story. After a dinner of pizza that was brought over by one of Harry's coworkers had been shared, the groups began to filter out. The house had been quiet since the last friend—one of (Y/N)'s old managers at the bakery—had said their final goodbyes before they were left alone. 
As much as he appreciated seeing all of these people, those who he didn't even know he could have an impact on, now that he'd had a chance to shower and nestle into a real bed, he was finally able to decompress. It was overwhelming to be around so many people at once, lingering instincts trying to bubble to the surface and urge him into keeping an eye on everything with every exit assessed. More than once, he had to remind himself that no one was lurking in the shadows anymore, which only overwhelmed him more; the freedom hadn't sunk in yet and he wasn't sure when it would. 
(Y/N) looked just as exhausted as he felt. It was a familiar sight to see her with damp hair and tired eyes, but everything was just a shade different. Now, he shared the bed with her, those self-appointed boundaries he put in place now dissolving to leave them sharing a pillow. They laid close enough to one another for body heat to be shared under the frills of her swirling, peach colored comforter; if he wanted, Harry could tangle their legs together with just a stretch of his knee. At this proximity, despite the fatigue on her features, he could see in her eyes she was just as relieved and happy as he was. 
Harry couldn't help the smile that tipped his lips the longer he looked at her. It was an interesting feeling, the want to smile and share his happiness like that; it was the first thing he wanted to do when he looked at her. 
Dimples denting his cheeks, he allowed his gaze to wander down her features. "Yeah, but I want y'to be able to sleep." 
A pout tugged at (Y/N)'s own features, her bottom lip puffing out more than he was sure she was even aware. "Why can't we sleep together?" 
The lighthearted air in his chest deflated some at her question. "I jus'... I don't want to wake y'up if I have a dream," he murmured, his explanation coming easier now that she knew things about him he never imagined he would have the courage to share. What more was the admittance of a nightmare to her after everything else? 
"I don't care," she told him, inching the much closer to him with the sheets shifting around them, "If you do have a bad dream, I'll be right here." 
Maybe it was the fact he was still recovering from the last week and a half, or the impromptu party they had tonight, or just the realization that his life had changed so much in the last few days, but (Y/N)'s words plucked at his heart just right in the dark of her room. Everything soft in him had been poked and prodded, enough to cause a pool of tears to spring into his eyes. He didn't know when he started getting so emotional, but it was as if all those years of suppressing it had only caused a build up that he was draining now. 
It was (Y/N) that reached out to him first, closing that small distance between them until she had him bundled in her arms. Harry didn't hesitate to cuddle her to his chest, face buried in the crown of her head. He held her with his arms looped around her shoulders, her cheek smushed against his neck while her own arms were wrapped around his middle. 
"Thank you," he murmured into her hair. (Y/N) only hugged him tighter in response. 
He wasn't sure if (Y/N) would ever understand how therapeutic it was to just be had the way she did for him. After years of bare minimum contact with others, to be received with open arms and free affection, it put him all out of sorts knowing that he could be included in that kind of kindness. He still didn't believe he truly deserved her trust and care, but he wasn't going to be the one to stop it. She knew who he was and still wanted him to feel her touch and hear her soft words. 
"(Y/N)?" he whispered, pulling away from their snuggle though he didn't go far. 
Peeling herself away from her hiding place in his neck, she gazed up at him with forgiving eyes. "Hm?" 
Harry couldn't help but to allow his gaze to shift over her features, noting the slope of her nose and the height of her cheekbones. Her lashes were a gentle fan, brushing her brow bone with every blink. Her skin was dewy and scented after her luxuriously long shower, drawing him in like a moth to a glimmering flame. The pillows of her lips were the main draw, his eyes struggling to stay away for long before he was mapping the curve of her cupid's bow and the dips of her mouth. 
Forcing himself to draw his eyes back to hers, Harry blinked with his throat bobbing in a heavy swallow. "Can I—... I-I want to kiss you," he crooned to her, his voice falling among the folds of the sheets. 
He watched as (Y/N)'s face broke out into a grin, soft and just for him. He got to bask in the sight just before she closed the distance herself and pressed her lips to his with a tilt of her chin. 
Her kiss was just as gentle as he remembered, the contact kind and giving. This time, though, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that this moment was for them alone. No one could take this from him. That made the slotting of their lips that much sweeter. The kisses he placed upon her top lip and the taste of her minty toothpaste that much more special. (Y/N) melted into his hold, giving herself into their kiss with his bottom lip between her two. Sliding his hands over her shoulders, he was able to cradle her cheeks in his palms, thumbs brushing the length of her bottom lashes. Every tip of their heads had the tips of their noses brushing, a small smile touching at (Y/N)'s lips every time. 
The kiss was lazy. It was long and lingering. No implications were implied other than the need Harry had to know her in this sense—how much he wanted her to know him. He could still be gentle for her. 
It was with the way she had pulled back just enough to get a good breath, brushing her nose against his in a minute puppy's kiss that had a stray thought entering Harry's head by the time another kiss was smeared upon his lips: he was kissing the love of his life. 
This was where he was supposed to be. There had to be a reason why he was pulled to this town, and (Y/N) had to be that reason. There were plenty of things in the past years that he wished he could take back, that he wished he could change, but if everything led to making this possible—making him into the kind of man that (Y/N) was able to love—he wasn't able to argue with the road that took him here. 
Before long, (Y/N) pulled away with a smattering of kisses pressed against his mouth. He couldn't help the smile on his face when she drew away to look at him. 
He was sure his pupils were seconds away from turning into hearts or just welling up from the amount of devotion swimming in his heart for her. 
"Wake me up if you need me, okay? I don't care what time, or anything," she told him, shifting on the sheets to get comfortable. 
"I will," he promised her, allowing her to cling to him until they were wrapped in a similar cuddle like the one they had the last night in the motel. 
Harry fell asleep with her head on his chest, their even breathing syncing up like the bass of a heartbeat. He doesn't wake again until the sun is shining in the sky, only pleasant dreams left behind. 
—————
Lips thinning, Harry re-read the building instructions for the side table he was building for his apartment. (Y/N) had joked it would take him hours to piece together, but he hadn't thought it would really be this hard. 
But, she'd probably laugh if she found out how hard he was struggling with the directions, and he always liked to see her happy.
As much as he may have wanted to bother her, she was too busy doing her part of trying to cozy up his apartment. He had told her it wasn't necessary, that it wasn't any of her responsibility, but that didn't stop her from insisting she tag along with him. While he was busy putting together more permanent items to fill the space (including the stupid end table), she was in the process of making his bed something pleasant to sleep in.
Tucking the corners of a fitted sheet around the dimensions of his mattress, (Y/N) piped up, "What's next then, H?" 
"Hm?" he hummed, his attention primarily on the fold out of instructions on the tall box beside him, "Um—I think I need to change the bulb in the kitchen, but I jus' want to finish this first." 
A peal of laughter left her lips, drawing Harry's own lips into a small smile. "No," she sang, "I mean, what's the next adventure for you? You have all this freedom now, do you have any kind of plan?"
Harry's brows cinched together in the middle, his hands slowing as he worked. "I—um—I don't know," he mumbled, "I jus'... I don't think I plan on leaving." 
A pause sounded in the room, just the sound of (Y/N) rustling the sheet over his bed. "Oh?" she said after a beat. 
Giving a small nod, Harry drew his attention away from the nonsense table and trailed his gaze to where (Y/N) was stretched over his bed. She was looking at him over her shoulder, her eyes tender. 
"I want to stay here," he told her quietly. 
Her own task at hand was pushed to the wayside as she settled to sit down on his bed, sheet free of any other dressing as the folds and creases pulled towards her like waves. "You do?" she pressed, a small smile itching at the corners of her lips, "No big town or anything in the works?" 
"No," he said simply, "I want to be here." 
(Y/N) seemed especially content to hear from him about this with the way she lent towards him, her elbows being planted on her knees. "Any plans for what you want to do here then?" 
Lifting his shoulders, he gave her a shrug. "Not sure, but I should probably get a better job; I don't really need to keep being paid under the table for an overnight position," he laughed off, realizing the amount of roots he could actually put down here if he wanted. 
"Not if you like it, thought," (Y/N) quipped, ever positive in the wake of Harry's evolving attitude, "But, I bet you'd do really good at the library or something like that." 
That was a train of thought Harry had never allowed himself to go down. It would be rather nice to spend his days around books, he thought. Ms. Klarke would be good company too. Maybe, he'd look into something like that. 
Before he could think better of it, more ideas rolled off of Harry's tongue, possibilities he'd never let himself consider before now taking shape in reality. "I-I think I want to get a cat, too." 
Perking up at his words, (Y/N) broke into a bright grin as she looked at him. "Really?!" she bubbled, "That would be perfect, Harry! You'd be the best cat dad, I can definitely see that." 
Harry crossed his arms across his chest to hide the shaking of his hands as he considered the next plan in his list of possibilities. From the corner of his eye, he could see the photo of his family set up on the brand-new coffee table decorating the room. He kept his eyes facing his feet as he spoke, "I think... I want to try to find my mum and sister, too." 
Silence filled his apartment for a moment, (Y/N) having paused before the gentle sound of her voice floated between them, "Harry, that's a wonderful idea." He could hear the creaks of his mattress as she assumedly hopped from her position. His sense of her presence shifted as she came closer to him though he still didn't know if he had the willpower to meet her eyes and not break down. "I can help if you want?" she offered, "I don't really know how to find anyone, but I'll help any way I can.
"I think they'd love to hear from you; I'm sure your mom misses you so much." 
Her final statement hit him just right, every newly revealed tender bit inside him feeling the effect. Choking up with a lump in his throat, Harry whispered, "I miss her, too." 
(Y/N) didn't wait to cradle him in her arms, the embrace something Harry was now familiar with. She gave affection so freely, always there for him the second she felt she was needed or even when she was the one in need of his touch. Every day her arms felt more and more like a home. 
With her arms looped around him tightly, (Y/N) spoke into his chest, "You're a good person, Harry, I know that." 
An argument was ready on his tongue, the same one that he and (Y/N) had gone back and forth on since they returned home. Before he could get anything out, he was cut off by a muffled voice. 
"I know you don't agree with me," she rushed out, not wanting to hear a syllable of his protests, "but, I don't care. That's how I feel, and I'm right." 
A breathy laugh fell from Harry's lips, the sound of his joy fanning across the crown of her head where he had his face nuzzled into. The sound caught in his throat the longer he let it process. 
The way she talked to him was always with such great care. Even before she knew the truth, there wasn't a time he could remember her being any harsher than a tease with him—and when she would play with him as such, she only made him feel normal. He knew what it was like to be looked at as if there was nothing to him, that he wasn't a person worth knowing; Trevor had looked at him like that every time he offered him a job, every time he had effectively pushed someone away they had given him those eyes. (Y/N), despite his best efforts, was there for him. 
He knew she meant every word she'd just said to him. She truly believed he was a good person—someone that deserved her touch and to stand beside. No matter what he put her through, at her core, she believed he was a good person whether or not he could make a case otherwise. 
Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry allowed his mouth to move before he could shut himself down: "I love you." 
Her nose buried in his shoulder, Harry felt her voice as much as he heard it when she said, "What?" Pulling away from their embrace just enough to look up at him, (Y/N) reached up with soft hands and pushed his hair back, gaining a look at his eyes. "What did you say?" she repeated.
A pinch of fear plucked at the raw edges of his heart. "I said I love you," he murmured, his gaze dropping down her features, too afraid to see what swam in her eyes at his declaration, "Y'don't have to say it back, or anything. You jus'... I feel better with you." 
Harry saw her smile first, the way it broke across her features and had her lips pressing into her cheeks and lines appearing by her eyes. Her hands settled on his jaw, palms following the line with her fingers dipping into the baby hairs of his hairline. 
Pulling him in for a kiss, Harry barely had time to register before his lips were smeared across (Y/N)'s. There was an intensity behind the contact, as if this were her way of clinging to him without climbing all over him in the middle of his apartment. Before long, she could hold the kiss against the smile that was inching back over her features. 
Drawing away, Harry was rewarded with the sight of her bubbling smile, the same one he tasted in her kiss. "I love you too, Harry. So much," she crooned, her voice a song as if floated to his ears, "You're the strongest, smartest person I know, and I'm lucky to have you in my life." 
That genuine intensity in her eyes didn't allow a single doubt to creep into his mind. 
Over the last few days, Harry had become a bit accustomed to bursting into tears every time something overwhelmed him or a realization pinged in his head. But, now, looking at her and knowing she felt the same way he did, Harry could only smile. He was so happy he could laugh, and smile, and scream, and hold her. No tears were on his mind, no lump in his throat, no pressure behind his eyes. 
Only joy. 
When he found his mom, he couldn't wait to tell her all about (Y/N). 
—————
Gasping, running, Harry knew someone was behind him. He couldn't turn around to be sure, but he knew that if he slowed down for even a second, he would be caught in a grasp he wouldn't make it out of. The gun in his hand was heavy, but there wasn't a single shot of ammunition left. He hadn't been such a bad shot since he was first commissioned for this lifestyle. Now, he would have to pay for that. 
Over the horizon, a sunbleached motel appeared the longer he ran. (Y/N) was there—he didn't know how he knew that, but it was a fact he couldn't let go of. He needed to get to her in time, tell her to run. She wasn't supposed to still be here; she had promised him that she would leave if he didn't come back last night. She wasn't supposed to wait for him. 
They were going to kill her next if he didn't get to her in time. After they took care of him, she would end up collateral in a war she didn't sign up for. 
But, Harry was running out of time. He knew that in the way his lungs burned and legs ached. He couldn't outrun them. 
As if he conjured her himself, (Y/N) chose that moment to step out of the motel. Underneath the blinking sign, he could see her spot him in the distance. She opened her mouth to say something. 
She didn't know someone was behind him—she didn't know she couldn't be here anymore. 
Just before the sound of a gunshot could ring out in his dream, Harry jolted awake. 
That burn in his lungs he felt in his dream was very much real with the way he sucked in air as if he couldn't get enough, inflating his lungs past capacity before he deflated too fast. Coming back to the surface with every labored blink of his eyes, Harry pieced together his surroundings. 
A peach bedspread was tucked around his chest, the fluff suddenly feeling too warm around him, with a grey bed frame behind him. A green, fuzzy pillow was pushed to his feet, the extra cushion taking up too much space for two people to fit in one bed. 
His heart rate slowed as he remembered. This was (Y/N)'s bed. He was in her room, in her gingerbread house, with her snuggled into his side. 
"Harry?" 
Hints of the peach bedspread reminded him a bit too much of the motel in his dream. He cringed at the reminder, his hands stilling where they had been about to push the fabric away from him. 
"Harry?" (Y/N) chirped again, her sleepy voice growing firm. 
Blinking the nightmare out of his gaze, Harry turned to face her with a slew of messy curls draping themselves over his forehead. Reality came back to him in pieces, her room feeling more and more real with his dream fading to the background. 
(Y/N) laid beside him, propped up on her elbow as she looked at him with concern in her eyes. Her hair was sleep-mussed with puffy under eyes. Every blink she gave was slow and lingering, fighting back the urge to sleep. 
She saw him, that much he knew. Even in the wake of the ticking in his head, Harry knew that. (Y/N) loved him, that was true. That was one of the only things he could keep track of through the muddy waters he was still attempting to shake off. 
She had promised him that he wouldn't have to fend off his nightmares by himself, and there she was. At his side. 
Reaching out, (Y/N) grazed a hand across his chest, a grounding touch. "Harry, can you hear me?" 
Nodding frantically, Harry clutched her hand in his. His breathing was beginning to shudder in his lungs, coming in uneven paces. Using his hold on her hand, he tugged her down to him, laying her form against his chest. (Y/N) moved wherever she was needed, happy to give him any kind of comfort he was seeking. 
"You-You were trying to help me," he told her, swallowing around his dry throat, "But, we-we were back at the motel, and y’didn't know that they were—" 
(Y/N) didn't wait for him to finish before she was reaffirming her hold on his hand, lacing their fingers together with her other hand tangling in the fabric of his shirt. It wasn't a new dream, this scenario. Most of his older nightmares of his days on the job had been left on the back burner while these memories played like a reel of the worst moments of his life on replay. Every time, they started like a real memory from the days in the motels, but this time Harry wasn't strong enough or smart enough to save them. She knew how to talk him down from these at this point. 
"I know," she told him in a gentle croon, "But, it's not real. It was just a dream. We're here. You kept me safe the whole time." 
"Y'were so scared, (Y/N)," he told her, his voice thin. 
Blinking at him, she pulsed her hand around his. "I was, but I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me. And, you didn't." A small smile grew on her features as Harry calmed under her words. "That's what I'm doing for you now," she told him, "I'm making sure nothing happens to you while you're with me. It's my turn now."
On instinct—one he didn't really understand or was used to yet—Harry couldn't help but to smile at her. She was the only one that knew how to draw that out of him. 
Harry shifted, one of his hands clutching her bedspread unfurled only to land delicately on her cheek. (Y/N) lent into his warmth, the length of her lashes grazing the tip of his thumb as she hovered over him. Firming his hold on her, Harry pulled her in for a kiss. 
The press of his lips against hers allowed him to pour every word of devotion he couldn't dig out of his throat. The taste of her raspberry lip treatment lingered on his lip, grounding him to this moment. She was his anchor, her kiss his tether to the real world that was suddenly brighter than even the best dreams his mind could conjure. 
Every pressing of his lips against hers, whether slightly off center or with either lips slotting together, was an expression of the love he felt for her but couldn't choke out right then. 
(Y/N) was more than happy to let Harry sink into her with every joining of their lips. She didn't stop him when he dove back in after breaking for a breath, not when he loosened his hold on her hand to cradle both cheeks. She allowed him to devote himself to her, find his own redemption with every linking of their mouths. 
Soon enough, (Y/N) drew away just far enough for the tips of their noses to brush, hooded eyes meeting in the dark of her room. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, breathless. 
He paused before he answered, flashes of the nightmare returning in quick succession. "I jus'—," he started, cutting himself off as he floundered, "It could have happened. I know it wasn't real, but it could have been." 
Nudging her nose against his, (Y/N) spoke earnestly with the pillows of her lips brushing his with every word, "But, it wasn't; it didn't happen. I'm here. You kept us safe and now you're done. Forever." 
Harry's throat bobbed with a thick swallow as he listened to her words. He knew it was true, that he was done and everything he had done had protected them both in the long run, but it was hard to accept. He still didn't view himself as a savior, and he wasn't sure he ever would. 
Shifting on his chest, (Y/N) grabbed his hands that cradled her cheeks, her palms pressed to the tops of his hands. 
"I'm here, Harry," she murmured, "I'm okay. Because of you." 
Using the hold she had on his hands, she glided them down the slope of her neck, and cuffs of her shoulders as if to prove her point. She was solid and real. No injuries or accidents. She was safe. 
One of his hands was pushed to rest just over her heart. Through the fabric of her sleep shirt and cage of her ribs, he could feel the pounding of her heart in her chest. She was warm, that heat emanating into his palm. The more he tuned into the beats of her heart, he found it matched the same raised pace of his own. 
With his hand still pressed to her heart, (Y/N) surged forward, pressing her lips to his in another kiss. "See? I'm here, Harry," she murmured into his mouth, her words tasting sweet on his tongue, "You have me." 
Taking over control of his hands, he slipped them out from under her own as he pressed another lingering kiss across her mouth. Gliding his palms over her sides, Harry felt every line he had seen since that night in the grocery store, documenting every crease and curve, every plush dimple and rounded edge. His fingertips made dents in her skin as he passed over her form, her body giving under the strength of his touch. 
Every catalogued touch grounded Harry more and more. She was here with him, right now, he knew that. He couldn't be more grateful. 
He may have been able to keep them safe while on the run, but she was the reason he was whole right now—if with a few frayed edges. Without her, he would have ended up in another unpolished town, wondering when or if he would ever have a chance to live. Without her, he wouldn't have had a future stable enough to purchase even just an end table. 
Harry knew well where he would be without her, but that only made it easier to appreciate everything she'd done and changed for him. It made it easier to devote himself to her every whim. 
His hands wandered around her body further, his kisses deepening with every twist of his head and tip of his chin. (Y/N) reciprocated with her hands on his chest, curling and unfurling the material of his top every time he pressed against her mouth that much harder. Skating over her body, his palms pressed into her thighs, bypassing the length of her sleep shirt. Her skin was soft and perfumed, fresh from the shower she had luxuriated in before snuggling into bed with him.  
(Y/N) was soft, so soft Harry didn't think anyone could be that way. There were still bumps and ridges, texture to her skin just like any other, but none of that registered in the same capacity as he sunk his fingertips into the flesh, her body giving way under his touch. The press of his lips over her pushed harder, taking more and more of her with every cant of his head and tip of his chin. His hands on her legs slipped under the hem of her top, grazing the end of her shorts as he tried to scope out if she was that soft everywhere. 
A particularly heady grip of his hands on her thighs had (Y/N) sighing into his mouth. The noise only made him want to cling to her harder, see what else he could draw out of her. 
"You're here," he murmured against her lips, repeating her earlier words as they sunk into his bones. 
Breathless, (Y/N) told him again, "I'm here." Her words fanned across his skin before he sealed his lips over hers once more, warm and dripping like nothing else he'd heard come out of her. "I'm yours." 
Harry could feel muscles in his abdomen start tensing at her words. Maybe it was the way that he could feel her speak them against his mouth as much as he heard them, or the fact her voice was wrapped around the sentiment at all, but he was far from unaffected. His stomach was tight, his chest boiling with his heart pounding and burning. God, he was getting hard from a makeout like he was some kind of college idiot. 
He couldn't even blame himself for the way he dug into her, hands and all. Everywhere he pushed, she gave away and cushioned his touch. She moved that much closer with every shift of their bodies, sinking into him. Harry felt her with more than just his hands. 
(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his hair, sliding between the curls and flexing into the strands. She parted her lips when the first swipe of his tongue grazed her mouth, her hands tightening and tugging in his hair. 
The sting against his scalp was more than Harry's brain could process in that moment. All he knew was that he wanted to be closer to her—needed to be closer, even. That touch had him pushing against her, grazing his hands up her sides until he was gripping her waist. He pushed until she was rolling back for him, Harry hovering above her while she clung to him.
"(Y/N)," he sighed against her kiss, pulling away enough to speak, "I—" 
"Please," she whined with a nod of her head to the question he hadn't asked. Her palms slipped out from his hair and sat on the broad of his shoulders. She used her leverage to tug him to her, trying to convince him to give in and let her feel him again. 
Between her spread legs, Harry was pulled to lay above her. Those thighs he had documented with his hands were now cushioning his hips. The soft edges he could draw from memory were now his landing pad for all the hard angles and solid ridges that made up his body. Their chests were pressed together with heart beats rattling rib cages. Her body welcomed him with every curve and soft pad; Harry pushing where she pulled. The sticky sound of their mouths meeting and parting lingered in the small space between them.
Laying there in a mess of peach colored sheets and a plush body that had just been declared his, Harry couldn't think of anything or anyone he'd ever been more devoted to. He would do anything for her. 
Right now, he wanted to give her that pleasure that had her sighing into his mouth and clinging to his touch. He wanted to do whatever it took to have her melting into the mattress, sinking into her sheets with a blissed out smile on her face. He wanted to hear those noises that had his chest rattling and his thighs aching from how bunched his muscles became. 
"Harry, I..." (Y/N) started, her voice trailing off as she pulled in a heavy breath. The length of her lashes reached for his own, the tips tangling among his. 
Smearing a kiss over the corner of her opened mouth, Harry tightened his hands on her waist. "I know, peach, I know." 
That heavy intake paused in her lungs. "Peach?" 
He smiled against her skin, a little too smug over her reaction. "Yeah," he crooned, "You're soft like one. Sweet, too." 
A gentle laugh was felt against his kiss before touching his ears. "I like that," she told him, tipping her head just enough to pull him in for another lingering kiss. 
"I like you, peach" he told her, reservation be damned as he shared the first thought on his mind. 
(Y/N)'s thighs tightened around his hips at his words. Not much else could be said when Harry sealed a kiss to her mouth, parting her lips and taking her top one between his two. Her sighs came more freely now with his weight pressing into her, the slick sounds of their mouths mixing in to create a soundtrack. 
With a bubbling in his stomach, Harry's body moved instinctively, pressing his hips heavily into hers. The apex of her thighs welcomed him readily, the bulge in his sweats pressing into her softest spot. A shivering moan left (Y/N)'s lips then, hands in his hair tightening.
 If not for the fact his eyes were already closed, he knew they would have rolled to the back of his head. Harry had never been more grounded in his entire life; he was anchored to this moment. More often than not, he couldn't get his brain to shut up—he was constantly considering every outcome of a given situation, his next move, his next words, everything. But, here, none of that mattered. There was nowhere else in this world that he wanted to focus on, no other person that could pull him from his living daydream. 
This place—a frilly peach bed with fluffy pillows in the middle of a nowhere town—was what he had been searching for all these years since he left his past life behind. This feeling was the goal when he had fantasized about getting out of his line of work. 
Now, he had it. He had a soft woman underneath him, her heart just as welcoming as her body, with his brain quiet. She had him in the palm of his hand, and he knew he was safest there. 
Sinking into her, Harry just wanted to show her. Everything brewing in his chest, caged back by his ribs and squeezing his lungs, he wanted her to feel and know and see. 
Another push of his hips, a physical show of her effect on him, had another moan rolling off of (Y/N)'s tongue. The sound tasted sweet to Harry; the taste of redemption and something too holy to explain. 
"Harry," she murmured, the call coming out messy and smeared against his mouth. 
"I've got you, remember?" he soothed, "All mine." 
Surging forward, (Y/N)'s kiss was desperate against his own, the tip of his nose grazing her cheek. "All yours," she cemented. 
Between her legs, Harry could feel the heat through the layer of her shorts and his sweats. His hands on the curve of her waist pulsed like the shot that went down his spine as he mind wandered a little too far, his imagination slipping under the waistband of her shorts. 
"Are y'sweet everywhere, peach?" he asked, his alluring words skipping over her tongue.
A beat passed as (Y/N) opted to instead keep kissing him instead of giving any kind of answer. "What do you mean?" she breathlessly asked, sounding dazed. 
A smug smile tipped the corners of his mouth. A heady rock of his hips was delivered against her own. "You know what I mean," he drawled, "Are you sweet everywhere?" 
Having drawn away just enough to match her eyes, he saw the way they rolled to the back of her head. Her grip on his hair and the vice of her thighs around his hips had him sinking with her as she melted into the mattress. 
Grazing the tip of his nose over the curve of her warmed cheek, Harry let her cling to him. "Do y'want me to check?"  he asked, lips brushing over her skin, "Can I, peach?" 
(Y/N) eagerly nodded her head to his proposal. "Yes, yes, please." 
Pulling away, (Y/N)'s grip loosened on his hair despite Harry knowing that was the last thing she wanted to do. But, he had another proposition for her. He needed to see her when he asked. 
"Can y'do something for me, then?" he said, their hips still nestled together as he hovered above her with elbows planted on either side of (Y/N)'s head. 
It was an automatic response the way she immediately agreed, no hesitation. "I can do that for you," she said, no knowledge of what she was agreeing to. 
Dipping down and pressing a kiss to her chin, Harry couldn't help but to breathe out a laugh across her skin. "Y'don't even know what I want, and you're already promising. Thought y'were smart, peachy?" 
(And, she is very smart, he knew that. He just wanted to tease her a little, see if she liked that). 
(Y/N)'s breathing hitched in her throat, but she didn't make any move to deny him. He couldn't blame her, either. If she had said something similar, even if they were just in her kitchen, he would have agreed the same way. Devotion was the only way he could describe it. 
Carefully balancing his weight, Harry used one of his hands and collected her wrists from where she had her hands buried in his hair. The length of his fingers acted as manacles as he pulled her hands away from his form. She looked at him with wide eyes, a pinch appearing in the middle when he guided her hands to lay above her head. 
"I want you to keep these here," he instructed, pushing her hands into the pillow as, "Is that something y'can do for me?" 
Gazing up at him, head and now hands cushioned with plush peach pillows, (Y/N) couldn't help the pout that pushed out her bottom lip. "But—I don't get to touch you?" 
Looking at her like this, hearing those words wrapped in the delicate thrall of her breathy voice, Harry was almost surprised that a halo wasn't crooked on her head. He had expected flowers to sprout around her, a peach tree to shade them in the privacy of her bedroom. This gingerbread house should have even been a castle as far as he was concerned. She was too much to be just a baker in a small town; there had to be a secret stash of angel wings somewhere or a small country searching for a lost princess. 
"You will," he soothed her, his thumb sweeping across the bone of her wrist, "I jus' want you to do this for me first. Is that alright? Can y'keep your promise?" 
Stretching her fingers, (Y/N) was able to curl them around Harry's just enough. "I can. For you," she murmured to him, glittering gaze stitched to his features. 
A lopsided smile pulled at Harry's lips, only a single dimple pressing into his cheek. "I knew you could, peach. You're so good, huh," he praised. 
(Y/N) features bloomed into a fruit-sweet smile. "Kiss?" 
Harry didn't hesitate before he was pressing his lips to hers, a warm kiss over her already-swollen mouth. (Y/N) happily sunk into the contact, her arms going lax under his hold. Skating down the length of her arms and down her body, Harry allowed his palms to luxuriate in the feel of her form. 
While she could never be anything but a good distraction, Harry could now be acutely aware of every shift of her body, everything the curves of her form could offer. He was no longer muddling through how good it felt to be touched by her, how she made his skin come alive with every brush of her fingertips. He could commemorate every swath of skin, every cave and hill, everything that made up his safe place. He felt starved for her; he couldn't get enough, feel enough, touch enough. 
This was worship to him. She was the only deity he could devote his life to, be a dedicated follower of. 
"I love you," he told her, his brows dipping into a furrow as he sealed the words across her kiss. 
"I love you, too, Harry." 
His heart fluttered at the reciprocation. His hand stationed by her head twisted to bury itself among the strands of her messy hair, his fingertip tenderly grazing her scalp. The other was traveling down her body, tucking under the length of her sleep shirt. The loose legs of her shorts was his goal, the pads of his fingers brushing the soft skin of her inner thighs. She was wide open for him with his hips keeping her from getting shy and closing up on him. 
The higher up he grazed, Harry awaited to be stopped by the hem of a pair of panties, his access to her skin cut off. But, that never came. 
Instead, he was beaconed in by the heat that he had felt against his cock, now luring in his touch. Sticky wetness greeted him first, the slick having dipped over the crease between her thigh and her pussy. She was messy and warm, just for him, 
(Y/N) shuddered at the first pass of his fingertip through her slit, her lips stuttering over his own. He couldn't help the smug smile that tugged at his lips at her reaction, especially when he chanced a graze of his thumb over her clit. Mouth parting, a tiny whimper fell from her lips. Harry swallowed the sound, allowing his slicked fingers to play through her wetness, brushing her clit and parting her slit until he felt her pulsing opening. Every touch made her that much stickier, he felt, every reason to keep him there, keep him touching. 
Once his digits were coated, Harry tugged his hand out from between her legs, following the path through the leg of her shorts. He could feel her eyes trained on him as he brought his index finger to his mouth, the pad grazing the pillow of his bottom lip with a shine being left behind. 
Harry couldn't help but to make a show of it when the first taste hit it tongue. His eyes fluttered closed on instinct, a moan rumbling through his chest. He could only imagine what kind of reaction he would have if he was ever given the chance to lick directly from the source. His eyelids tugged open to find her watching him with blown pupils, her cheeks warm and lips swollen. Her hands were still obediently placed above her head, but the fisting of the pillow case showed just how much effort was being put into the action. 
"So sweet, peach," he crooned, pulling his shining finger from his mouth, "Jus' like I thought you'd be." He watched as her mouth parted, eyes trained on his hand. In the minimal light, a glaze could still be seen on his middle finger. 
"Wanna try?" 
Her reaction came in the form of an eager nod, her lips parting that much more as if an invitation. 
There was no reason to keep her waiting as he gave in, slipping the slick digit between her open lips. The pad pressed against the dip of her tongue as she got her first taste, lips closing around him. She sucked with a gentle lave of her tongue over her skin, cleaning him off. 
"Sweet, right?" he pressed, flexing his finger in her mouth with a press against the flat of her buds. 
"Uh-huh," (Y/N) answered, mouth full and eyes half-lidded. 
Slowly withdrawing from her mouth, a soft pop sounded in the room when Harry's spit-slick digit was freed. A thread of salvia clung to the tip of his finger, tying him to her for a lingering moment before the string bowed and broke. 
"Miss me touching you?" Harry asked, noting the squeeze of her thighs around his hips. Her response came in a soft nod, a heavy breath fanning between them. He gave her a smug smile, dipping closer to her as his hand retraced a path between her legs, "I shouldn't keep such a sweet girl waiting then, should I?" 
"No, please," she whined out, instinctively moving to touch him before she reminded herself to keep her hands just where they were. 
Harry didn't linger too long this time, giving into her pleas by slipping his hand inside her shorts as soon as he could maneuver the fabric out of the way. His tender touch parted her slit, feeling just how slick she'd gotten when she gave herself a taste. The middle of her shorts were almost drenched, a damp spot beginning to show on the outside. He traced every dip and curve, feeling her clit in teasing circles before he was playing through her wetness. Without her hands, (Y/N) used her nose to nudge at Harry's jaw, catching his attention and drawing him into a messy kiss. A shiver had her thighs aching to be closed when he nudged at her opening. 
Flattening his slicked hand against her hip under her pajamas, (Y/N) keened at the loss of his contact. His hips blocked her legs from closing and attempting to trap his hand between. 
"Want me inside?" he asked her, his words being sipped through her puckered lips. 
Shifting her hips under the palm of his hand, she bucked against him, urging his touch to return nowhere she needed him. "Please," she had whined again. 
As much as he liked playing with her, he couldn't find any good reason to deny her. He was greedy for it too, anyway. 
His hand swept across the small of her stomach until he slipped through her wetness once more. In a moment he was sinking into her, his middle finger parting the clench of her walls. She was warm and wet, snug and clinging to him before he'd even given her anything to properly cling to. 
Lips parting, (Y/N) made to moan out his name, but Harry cut her off with a smear of his lips against her own. He swallowed down her whining, instead giving her that much more to focus on, more of his skin against hers to take her mind somewhere else. 
She was restless against the sheets, her hands staying steady against the pillow despite how much he could feel her aching to reach for him. 
"Keep them up, (Y/N)," he crooned, "Be good, peach. Like you promised." 
"I promise, I promise, I promise," she babbled, breathless and just a step above incoherent. 
(Y/N) was rewarded with a heavy kiss to her lips, the pad of his thumb pressing against her budding clit. Drawing his finger out of her, Harry felt every ridge and crevice, her walls molding around him. Her mouth against his melted, sticky and sweet, while her thighs around his hips tightened. Her body clung and bowed, different reactions pulling from everywhere. 
The rhythm Harry created with his hand, finger sinking in a pulling out of her with brushes placed on her clit, was more than a reward for her, but was becoming a slight punishment to him. His imagination ran too fast and too wild thinking about what it would feel like to replace his hand with his cock between her legs. He could feel every rock of his hand against her, every rear back was now pressing against his bulge in a teasing pressure that disappeared too soon. 
God, he wasn't going to last. He knew that from the second she had deepened their kissing, but now with her splayed underneath him and the heat of her pussy wrapped around his finger, that fact needed no other reassurance. Even the lack of her touch was enough to get his cock throbbing, knowing that she wasn't touching him all because he asked her to. There were no bindings keeping her away, all it was was a murmured request, and she was pliant for him. 
If she bucked her hips just right, he feared he would be getting out of her bed with stained sweats.
"Harry," she whined against his lips, mouth falling open as she threw her head back into the pillow. He had curled his finger inside of her, pressing against his walls, finding the sweet spot inside her that gave way under the pressure. 
More than anything, hearing her call out his name was almost enough to have him letting go already. This was one of those moments he still couldn't believe was properly happening; she was letting him touch her and she loved it enough so that she was slicking down his palm, bucking against him, and calling out his name like a prayer. This was better than any fantasy, any video, any previous encounter and he still hadn't even gleaned sight of her properly naked between the sheets. 
"More, p-please," she sighed, her voice carrying between them humid and heavy, "I need you, Harry." 
The front of his sweats soaked the first blurts of precum that leaked from his tip as Harry's stomach tightened at the sound of her plea. He was hard enough already, his muscles bunched and hard, cock heavy and balls tight. Turning his head, his breathing came in heavy blows as he smeared his lips across her cheek. He couldn't concentrate like this, not enough to give her a proper kiss. 
Harry focused on giving her everything she wanted, pushing another finger inside her. The widened girth had her back arching, pressing her chest against his with soft breasts and a hammering heart. He thrusted them in at a lingering pace, long and deep with the reach of his fingertips against her farthest wall. 
As much as he quelled that whiny part of her, there was still more she needed from him she could tell. She kept her hands cemented above her head, even with her squirming and wriggling.
"Please, please," she whined to him, voice dipping and dazed. 
"What do y'want, peach? Tell me how to help you," he murmured, lips dragging over her skin. 
Her response came out bubbling and rushed, without a thought, "I want to touch you, please, please. I promised I would keep them up, but-but I don't want to anymore." 
They both knew there was nothing holding her back from doing just that, but she wanted to keep her promise to him. She wanted to wait until he told her it was okay, that she had fulfilled her promise. That was all he needed to hear. 
"C'mon then, peach," he crooned, sinking heavily into her with his cock pressed against his thrusting hand. "Touch me." 
Almost immediately, he could keep her touch skating over him. Fingers raked through his hair, swirling through the curls and scratching down his shoulders. Her fingertips made dents in his skin as she dragged them down his chest, feeling every cubed muscle and hard angle that made up his heavy body. He knew there were lines of scars she could feel through the thin material of his shirt, new and old, but just like when he had tugged her into the shower with him, she didn't pay them anymore. She focused on him only, none of the battered packaging;. 
Soon enough, her fingers hooked on the waistband of his sweats. He was sure a dark stain was now sported across the front—whether it was from her or him, was to be decided. 
"Can I touch you here, Harry? I want you to cum with me," she babbled, Harry feeling her voice in her throat against his mouth as much as he heard her. 
A heavy, lopsided smile had his kiss going messy against her neck. "I can't say no to you when you've been so good, can I peach?" 
That was all the permission she needed to slip her hand underneath the elastic waist of his sweatpants. Her fingers dipped through the swatch of curls around his base, a shiver heading up his spine at the touch of another over his skin. She didn't tease him the way he seemed so fond to do, her hand forming a fist around his cock with a heady grip. Precum had dripped down, making him slick enough to allow a few cursory pumps over his shaft. 
Harry's own rhythm, his hand still tucked inside her shorts, stuttered. His mouth parted in a breathy moan, the sound painted across the column of her throat and sinking into her pores. He kept his thumb circling her clit, but there was nothing else he could maintain when he felt her sweep her hand up his length, thumb twirling around his head and collecting pearls of precum. She slicked his length with the beads, giving a wet sound to every stroke of her hand. 
A real rumbling moan left his mouth then, (Y/N) using her free hand to cradle his cheek in her palm. She guided him into a kiss with her, taking on the taste of his pleasure just like he had before. Harry's eyes squeezed shut as he began to curate a messy rhythm inside her shorts, fingers sinking in and out, stretching her with every pass of his knuckles. 
Tucked in cherry-scented, peach colored sheets, a fantasy Harry hadn't even known he had, came to life. His hand was soaked between her thighs, slick with every gush of wetness he was able to draw out of her with a puffy clit at the top of her slit. (Y/N)had her own hand tucked inside his sweats, taking advantage of the kind of reaction only she could have drawn out him, his length heavy and hard with enough precum to wet her hand and the front of his sweats. 
In some ways, it felt juvenile, getting handsy the way they were. It was as if they were hiding from a dormmate, or hoping a parent didn't walk in on them after curfew. But, in many more ways, it was the hottest thing Harry had ever experienced. He just hoped the experience would last a bit longer than a handful of minutes. 
(Y/N)'s bedroom was filled with the sound of their mouths parting and meeting, slick and messy, skin slapping and wet pumps. Harry's thighs felt tight, bunched muscles in his stomach hardening the bricks of his abs. He knew he had to have been pulsing in her hand. 
"G-Gonna cum, peach?" he breathed against her mouth, "Said y'wanted to cum with me, right?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she bubbled out, mouth parting against his with the tip of her nose grazing his, "Are you—oh my god, Harry—Are you almost?" 
She pushed her thumb over the crown of his cock, the tip pressing into his sensitive slit and pulling more pearly precum out. Harry had to draw away from her messy kissing then, his breathing too short and head too scattered to concentrate. He wanted to make sure he could make her cum with him, if not soon after. 
Dropping his head to her chest, bridge of his nose gliding over her collarbones as he nodded absently. "I love you, (Y/N). I love you, so much, okay?" he breathed out, the declarations decorating her skin in honey thick drips. 
His head was watery and muddy when her own strokes increased the match the pace of his over, the strength of her fist causing him to twitch in her hand. He made a point to find that spongy spot inside her with every pass of his fingers through her walls. He needed her shuddering and aching, eyes scrunched and throat filled with his name. 
"I-I love you, too," she whimpered, pressing her lips against the top of his head. 
Silly enough but true to the sensitive mess he'd become, that was all Harry needed to hear before he could feel himself emptying into her hand. Ropes of cum landed on his sweats, the fabric dampening and sticking to (Y/N)'s hand. She worked him through the throes, allowing Harry to sink into her, hand stuttering in her shorts, with his breath coming out lingering and humid over her skin. There was no word he could form, nothing he could say, nothing that could come out as more than a jumble of noises. He was too lost in space then, experiencing every pull of her hand over his length, thumbing at the tip of his cock and sliding through the mess he made just for her. 
Instinctively, Harry sunk his teeth into a gentle bite on her collarbone. If he couldn't kiss her, he needs to do something, he thought. This was the only thing that his brain could process, the only thing that would claim her in the same way as a deep kiss could do. 
As his peak began to wane, teeth nipping at the ledge of her collarbone, Harry felt (Y/N)'s thighs begin to fight to close around his hand over her center. She was pulsing now, her heart rate picking up with her hand stilling at his base. In his hair, her other hand fisted his curls, his scalp stinging. Every thrust of Harry's fingers was slowed with the way her walls shuddered around him, sucking him in and clinging to him until he stopped trying to leave her. 
Wetness gushed around his digits, leaking out and wetting his palm. His thumb was heavy over her clit, matching the pace of his fingers pressing into the delicate spot inside her. 
She was cumming for him, falling into him without a care. Harry's cock twitched, a lone spurt of cum pushing out, as he imagined what it would have been like to experience her orgasm with more than just his hand down her pants. If it was this intense, enough so that he almost felt as if he were experiencing aftershocks, he couldn't even begin to think about the pleasure that they could experience together properly. 
But, Harry had a feeling he had a lot of time to try many different things with her. 
The come down came slowly. Lazy touches were shared between them, nothing more than an excuse to feel one another. Soon enough, (Y/N) gave him an oversensitive whine. With a sleepy laugh, Harry slipped his hand out from her shorts, fingers wrapping around her wrist to follow suit.
(Y/N) laid heavily against the mattress, sheets rumpled around her with pillows haphazard around their heads. She was weightless just as much as she was planted in the moment.
A beat passed, Harry sitting up between her legs with his knees folded, that (Y/N) turned her glistening hand. Her eyes met his a moment later, a quiet pout puffing her lips. 
"Sticky," she said, a limp whine to her voice. 
Harry couldn't help himself, he had to dip down and press a kiss to her swollen lips. "I know, peach," he laughed, taking her wrist with his clean hand, "Let's get cleaned up." 
Pliantly, (Y/N) followed right after him to her bathroom. He used his forearm to flick the lights on, sure his peach wouldn't love the idea of her orgasm being slicked around her house. 
"Go ahead and wash your hands," he instructed her, pulling her boneless form to the sink. 
(Y/N)'s movements were lethargic as she followed his directions. Pumps of sweet smelling soap scented the bathroom, Harry watching from where he stood behind her in the mirror. More than once, she met his gaze, hands under the warm water though it didn't rival the way her blood fluttered under her skin. She gave him a shy smile every time before she was directing her attention back on her hands. He thought it was sweet the way she was bashful now, even after what had just occurred in her room. 
Harry kissed her shoulder when it was his turn to clean up, replacing her spot at the sink. The silence was a change to the mess of sound that had filled her bedroom, but it was nice to stand there with her, washing up so casually after something Harry was sure was going to live in his brain for quite some time. 
Drying his hands, he bumped (Y/N)'s hip, a breathy laugh falling from her lips as she gazed up at him. "I'll pick out some clothes for us to change into," he told her, "Did y'want to clean up any more?" 
"Yeah, I think so," she said softly, "You know where my pajama stuff is, right?" 
"Mhm," he hummed, a quiet smile on his lips, "I'll pick something cute out for you, don't worry." 
(Y/N) only laughed at him, moving around him before pushing him back to her room. With the door shut behind him, Harry left his smile to be seen by the floor. Making his way to his dresser, he felt incredibly light. 
Finding the right drawer, Harry rifled through big t-shirts and soft pants to find a new pair of shorts for her to change into, a pair of panties being plucked out after from a different drawer. His own clothes were confined to a duffle bag that only left her room to be washed at his before returning with another set of clothing to get him through the week. (As much as he reveled in the feeling of having a home, a place just for him, he loved being at (Y/N) just a hair more. She liked having him there, too, she'd told him). 
Placing her curated clothes out on her bed, he moved to change out of his sweats and into a pair of briefs he had pulled from his bag. Just as the waistband settled over his hips, (Y/N) emerged from the bathroom, light being flicked off behind her. She held her dirty shorts in her other hand, being left bare under the hem of her t-shirt. If not for the fact Harry was halfway sure he was going to be drained out for the next week, he would have gotten hard again, he was sure. 
"Better?" he asked, a light smile on his lips.
"Much," she sighed, her own expression dreamy as her gaze landed on the clothing left out for her. 
"Those okay?" he asked, rounding the end of her bed to stand beside her. 
Her eyes lingered on him for that much longer, a smile blooming across her features. "They're perfect. Thank you." 
It was so comfortable the way she stepped towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she took the clothing. She redressed with him right there, boundaries he thought would always be in place for someone like him, dissolving even without the promise of (Y/N) gaining something from his touch. 
He didn't even realize he was still smiling until he was sharing a pillow with her once more. It felt normal to him. 
He only noticed when (Y/N) finally said: "I like it when you smile." 
Harry nestled that much closer to her over her rumpled sheets, their "sides" merging until there was little space left between them. "Yeah?" he breathed, smile widening without permission. 
(Y/N) nodded her head, lifting her hand out from under her covers to prod at a dimple denting his cheek. "Yeah. I feel like I never saw you do it before, and now it's like you're smiling all the time since we came home." 
He couldn't even try to fend off his grin then. He loved smiling for her; every one of these curls was for her, because of her. 
"It’s all for you," he murmured. 
(Y/N) simply kissed him.
—————
"Is this the place?" 
Harry nodded from where he sat in the passenger seat. "Mhmm. I think we need to check in but after that, 's up to us on what to do." 
Shifting the gears into park once she was boxed within the white lines, (Y/N) gave him a patient smile. "Ready, then?" 
This time, his shaky hands were from giddy nerves instead of bottled up emotions. "I think so, yeah." 
By the time they were out of her car and pushing through the front doors of the sanctuary, Harry had (Y/N)'s hand bundled in his own. He needed that anchor. He couldn't do this without her. 
"Hi, how are you two?" The receptionist up front greeted them, hair messy on the top of their head with a fitted t-shirt on, sporting the company logo. 
"We're good, thank you," (Y/N) spoke for them, "We don't have an appointment today, but we were hoping we could browse around, if that's alright." 
The receptionist brightened from behind her makeshift desk, pulling a clipboard of paperwork out from a compartment in the podium before her. "Perfect! Was there anything in particular we were wanting to take a look at today?"
Harry squeezed (Y/N)'s hand. He piped up, "I—uh—I wanted to get a cat today. If y'had any." 
A bubbly grin stretched the receptionist's lips. "I'm so happy you said that! We actually took in a few new girls this weekend, so you came on the best day!" 
Before being allowed back, they were handed a clipboard with a set of forms to fill out. (Y/N) sat steadily beside him as he filled out all his info with a shaky hand (he was too excited and nervous to sit still and fill out paperwork), her own address and contact information filling in the second set of lines. 
As soon as they handed back the info, a quick glance being delivered over the form, they were led back with the receptionist—Molly, she introduced herself as—acting as their guide. At the end of the hall, they stopped in front of a closed door with a sign pasted saying "Kittens at play! Be careful when opening!" alongside a simply drawn cat head. 
Molly led them inside, the area filled with various cat toys and posts. Soft beds were littered about, a clean pee pad pressed in the back. Though, the room was void of any kittens for the time being. 
"So, we usually start with letting in our adult guests first before we bring in any of the babies. Unless, you had a preference anyway?" Molly started, her eyes glancing up at Harry from where she was filling out another sheet of paper tacked to the wall. 
"No, that's okay," he said, a tight smile on his lips. It was still a bit hard to give much away to anyone that wasn't (Y/N), but he was learning.
"Perfect!" Molly beamed, moving towards a door stationed on the opposite side of where they entered through, "I'm going to go help get everyone gathered, then they'll be in after. I'll leave you guys to bond with them and see if anyone stands, but just let me know if you need anything. I'll be by to check in and see if you're ready for the kittens soon." 
With that, Molly left with a beaming smile. (Y/N) pulled him to a small ledge that acted as a bench in the room, the cliff painted a matching white to the walls. She allowed him to sit in his quiet, always so patient with him when he knew it was in her nature to give more conversation. 
Soon enough, a sliding cat door was lifted with furry little bodies bursting through. All of those toys that had been lying limp on the floor were now being batted around or sniffed at, features and glittery strings being plucked and pulled. Claws scraped down scratch posts, chins rubbed across with purrs erupting here and there. The shier varieties were lured in by the plush beds, toes digging into the down as if the cats were kneading bread. 
Harry didn't know where to look first. This was a shelter, so he wasn't surprised to see some of the creatures with bitten ears or mangy tails, some even had a lack of claws that made Harry want to cringe for them. Not all of them were perfect, having made it here from so many different places and lives, but seeing them interact with each other and their environment, they all looked so happy.
"(Y/N), I don't know if this was a good idea," he murmured to her, keeping station on the ledge in the room as he observed. 
"Why not?" she blanched beside him, her features twisting. 
Eyes skipping over all of the stripes and speckles, long hair and other clipped short, Harry's lips thinned. "I want to take all of them." 
(Y/N)'s expression loosened into a bright smile, a peal of laugher mixing in with the padding of soft feet over the linoleum. "I knew you would! I told you this was going to be hard," she teased him, pulsing her hand in his, "But, we'll find one for you. The others will understand." 
The latch to the kitty door was still open, a lingering cat walking through a few moments later. By then, the others were happily lounging and playing, some even daring to inch towards where they sat to get a sniff of the guests. But, the newcomer stuck close to the sides, observing the others more than anything else. Harry's gaze stuck to her. 
Her fur was a dusty black, almost grey in the light, with speckles of white throughout. She had a white little nose, white toes, a patch the shape of a wonky bow on her chest, and a single white ear. Her tail was alert behind her, swaying with every cautious step. Observing her, he saw the way her eyes darted around the room, taking note of every noise, every creature, everything. 
She was scared, Harry could tell. She had to be one of the newer ones brought to the shelter. 
"Go say hi," (Y/N) encouraged him with a whisper, letting go of his hand only to nudge his shoulder. 
Hesitantly, Harry crossed the room, feeling a bit guilty when he distracted any of the babies from their games or their precious sleep. His little black and white friend stopped by a cactus shaped scratch post, the structure short but still taller than her as she sat on the base. He moved carefully, not wanting to alarm her into hiding, or even leaving through the still open hatch. 
Though she didn't skitter away, she still eyed him with a sharp blue gaze. 
"Hi," Harry offered, reaching his hand out for her to sniff. Even with the rest of the noise happening, he could still hear the small huff of her breath as her nose twitched with every intake. 
His new friend didn't back away, even when he grazed his fingers over the top of her head, ears flattening as if to give him room for a bigger pet. Inching closer, Harry happily continued smoothing his hand over her fur every time she leaned into him. More and more, she embraced his touches, showing him just where she would prefer to feel his fingers. She loved a pet under her chin, he learned, but would really accept scratches anywhere as long as he was gentle. 
Soon enough, she was keening into his hand, pushing the top of her head into his palm with a graze of her wet nose against his skin. Faintly, Harry began to hear a purr. It was crackling and low, but genuine. Looking up at him, she even gave him a flutter of her eyes, lingering blinks he had learned in his research was a cat's way of reciprocating affection. 
She was happy with him.
From behind him, he could hear (Y/N) stepping over the others in the room, cooing to some that sniffed at her while apologizing to others she bothered in her trek. He felt the static of her presence at his side though he didn't take his eyes off his furry companion. 
"She's so pretty, H," she told him, a smile in her voice. 
A little emotional, Harry nodded as he kept his gaze concentrated on his cat while he smoothed his hand down her back. "I think she's new." 
"Me too. She seemed a little scared at first, so I figured." (Y/N)'s voice lingered between them, the black and white cat seeming to finally take note of the new person as she cast a glance towards Harry's peach. "I know you like them all, but she's special, huh?" 
"Uh-huh."
(Y/N)'s hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing the cuff as she leant into him. "Do you want to go out and talk to them? See if there's anything they can tell us about her?" 
As much as he would have loved to waste his day laying among all of these little creatures, he didn't want to linger for too long and end up really taking home more than one of them. (There was one that was very interested in his shoes, and if he played with his laces for even a second, Harry was going to break down). 
"Yeah," he answered (Y/N), making the difficult choice of leaving his friend without any pets even when she stretched up to meet his hand. 
He followed (Y/N)'s lead as she pulled him towards the door, knocking on the inside before someone came to help them out without a bunch of critters trying to sneak out after. Molly gave them a beaming smile as she shut the door behind them. 
"Anyone you connected with? Or, are you ready for some of the babies to come in?" 
Harry shook his head, his hand instinctively reaching to pluck for his cuticles until (Y/N) bundled it in her own. "The black and white one, with the white ear and toes—um—, what was her name?" 
Molly brightened further. "That's one of our new girls that came in this past weekend," she started, leaning against the wall behind her, "She was rescued from a house of about five other cats. The owner wasn't taking proper care of them, so a few of them, her included, would go out and try to fend for themselves a lot. She's a little quiet and had a harder time socializing with the others, but we like to think this is her second chance. We never got a real name for her, but we've been calling her Rosemary." 
(Y/N)'s hand tightened around his the second Molly had brought up a second chance. That was all he needed to know about who he'd met back there. 
Glancing at (Y/N), Harry gave her a soft smile before looking to Molly. "I think I'd like to have her, please." 
Molly almost squealed with excitement, her hands clasping together at her waist. "That's wonderful! She seemed to really like you from what we saw on the cameras, I think she's going to be so excited to go home with you!" She started back up the hallway, back to where they were checked in, Molly waving at them to follow over her shoulder. "We just need to go over some paperwork while I let the guys get her all squared away for you to travel, then we'll talk a little bit more about what'll be needed to care for her." 
Taking them up to an office just off from reception, Molly left them for a moment as she went to collect the needed paperwork. 
Sitting beside one another, (Y/N) looked up at him with glimmering eyes. 
"You're going to take such good care of her, Harry," she murmured, her voice a quiet secret for only him. 
Taking in a deep breath, Harry tried to stabilize the rattling in his chest. "Everyone deserves a second chance, right?" 
Scooting that much closer to him, (Y/N) brought their linked hands up to press a kiss to the back of his. 
"Right." 
Harry didn't think before he smiled at her. 
—————
vervain represents healing; forgiving mistakes from the past and staring over
eeeeeek thats it guys! now you know all the things ab rosemary h! thank you so much for sticking w me through his story and sending so much love and support:( this story has been so close to my heart for so long so it makes me so happy you guys have enjoyed how it turned out! lmk what you guys thought and if you have any fun blurbs or think like that please send them in!
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gucciwins · 1 year
Text
Gala After Gala
Harry didn’t know that one moment with Y/N would change his life. 
Word count: 28,920 (no joke)
A/N: hi amores! this has been something i have been working on for months. this is older harry and I can honestly say i've poured my heart into this piece.  special mention to @matildashoney who was just an amazing support as i worked on this on and off. thank you for being patient with me friends! 💜
i hope you enjoy, my loves. buckle in, grab your waters and happy reading!
Warnings: slow burn!!!!! (it’s worth it), angst, fluff, smut (female pleasure) 
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Another gala. Another check to write.
Harry has to remind his assistant to stop accepting these invitations for him. Next time he’ll mail a check out instead. He had finished buttoning his velvet maroon coat as he handed off his keys to the valet for the hotel. The doorman guided him down the entry leading him to the extravagant ballroom.
To no surprise, the venue was decorated beautifully. There seemed to be a common theme of gold and flowers. At every turn, he saw a waiter with a boutonniere in their left pocket. The tablecloth shimmered under the dimmed lights, unlike the usual cheap fabric he saw at other events. For food, appetizers were lined up in the back with small places and forks to the side so one could serve themselves to their liking. Dinner was set to start in an hour once most of the guests arrived.
Harry mingled with a drink in his hand, not bothering to force a smile, he had the displeasure of knowing most of the people in attendance, and he can’t say he’s the biggest fan of them. They all had one thing on their mind: money. None of them cared about the cause for tonight, Harry included. All they were there for was to flaunt their money and see who could donate the most, and by the looks of it, Old man Tommy was looking to take the win by how aggressively he was signing his checkbook.
Dinner went surprisingly well. The music was a classical band that didn’t play pretentious music Harry was used to. They also didn’t play covers of pop songs. It was clear that the band had worked a long time with each other because they created beautiful melodies people could enjoy around conversation but also dancing. He never took part in the dancing, finding it tacky, and for the first time since he started attending gala’s, he was filled to the brim because the food was actually good. He cleaned his plate of the salmon he was offered.
After their meal, he knew he had to mingle, so he found an old friend Mr. Horan who he occasionally saw and invited out for a game of golf. He wouldn’t call him a friend, but he made decent company when Harry reached out. The Irish lad could hold his liquor and his jokes weren’t bad, not that Harry would ever let Niall know.
He wasn’t listening to the conversation around him. They were going on about the growth in their companies, and it was laughable. Not that he’d tell them, he wasn’t in the mood to step on their fragile egos.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Harry turns to find a young-looking waiter holding a tray with a single drink.
“Yes?” Harry asked in a bored tone.
“Lady in the black dress sent you this drink.” He nods at a woman standing at the bar's end in red heels. He couldn’t see the designer, but he knew they had to be expensive with the gloss they had on them. He wasn’t in the mood to be hit on, let alone to be sent a fruity drink. The worker did nothing wrong, so Harry took the glass. He didn’t bother excusing himself, instead making his way over to this woman who would most likely cry or scream at his rejection.
“Why’d you send this to me?” Harry questions as soon as he’s right behind her.
She turns around, a pout on her perfectly stained red lips, “you don't like an amaretto sour?”
Harry does his best not to let his face fall because she’s gorgeous. The dress looked beautiful, hugging all her curves. She was confident. He was sad he didn’t appreciate her backside more. Most women Harry knows wouldn’t dare be caught in a dress this provocative at an occasion like this, but she somehow added a hint of modesty to it with her red shawl that matched her lips perfectly. Although she’s stunning, he’s not falling for any trick of hers.
“Not my taste.”
“Oh,” the frown deepens on her face, “it looked like you weren’t enjoying your drink.”
Harry looks down at the brown liquid, “I ordered this.”
She raises her hand and shrugs. “My mistake. Your mood looked a little sour.”
It irked Harry how she had noticed him and his expressions when this was the first he saw her.
He keeps his eyes on her trying to see if he could get another reaction besides her pouty frown. “It’s the environment.”
“You don’t like Galas,” she states. “It’s an important cause.”
“It’s not that.” Harry takes a sip of the drink she sent him, mistaking it for his tequila. He holds back a reaction knowing she noticed his mistake. “I sometimes wish they asked for a check instead of making me pay a ticket and then donate a check once I’m here.”
“Oh.”
“They ask for money and give us little food,” he surprises himself by continuing to talk, not wanting to walk away from her just yet.
“The food offered tonight had large portions.”
“For once,” he scoffs.
“Open bar?” She offers.
“Strange,” he rebuttals.
“But it works.”
Her gaze shifts to someone behind her, and Harry knows she’s about to walk away from him, and he hates that he wants to follow her. She leaves her drink behind, moving around him, getting ready to head to the person seeking her company.
“See you around, Mr. Styles.”
Harry watches her walk away until she gets lost in the crowd. As Harry keeps sipping the drink she ordered for him, there’s one thought swimming around his head.
He had never given her his name, let alone his last name.
For the rest of the night, he had kept an eye on her, seeing as she glided from donor to donor. Everyone laughed with her. She was charming them all. It worked on everyone, even Harry, something he’d never admit to her. As Harry watches her speak with the host of the night, an old family friend comes up to him.
“Styles, where have you been hiding?” Miles asks, a giant grin on his face.
“Nowhere.”
Miles isn’t bothered by his answers; he is already used to Harry’s attitude. “How are you?”
“Well.”
“What are you drinking?”
Harry looks down at the empty glass that once held his second amaretto sour. “Nothing now.”
“Want another of whatever?”
He shakes his head, “good for now, thank you.”
“Why are you still here? I know you do your rounds and leave.”
“Uh…got to know a few people.”
Miles sees that Harry’s gaze hasn’t shifted for a second, and he finds where Harry has been staring for the last few minutes.
“Oh, Y/N.”
Y/N.
He repeats her name over and over, committing it to memory.
“Have you met her?” Miles asked him.
“Only for a moment.” Harry digs for more, “what do you think?
“She’s brilliant. Y/N is an intern for Lifelong Creativity long term but works side jobs with different partners Hope has introduced her to. I can’t tell you exactly what she does, but I know she’s passionate and would talk anyone’s ear off who asks. She’s finishing her degree soon, and everyone wants to snatch her up by the sounds of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already working up on opening her own nonprofit soon.”
“How old did you say she was?”
“She’s 23.”
“Real young.”
“Yeah, but it’s clear she knows what she’s doing.”
“You should speak with her. I’m sure she’d love to. She knows every person on the guest list. Seeing as she helped create it.”
Safe to say, Harry was intrigued to learn more about Y/N.
Life moved on. He pushed the college student out of his head and continued on with his life, or so he told himself. When a new invitation arrived the following week for an event taking place at the end of the month, he was quick to get Pearl to RSVP for him.
+
Now the night has arrived, and he isn’t sure why he’s here.
It’s not to try to get a look at Y/N, not at all hoping to have a longer conversation. He learned her name; it doesn’t mean he wants to use it.
He spots her as soon as he arrives at the bar. She’s wearing a sage green dress with embroidered flowers all around. She’s wearing white heels tied around her calf, and he wants to know how long it took her to get the perfect bow for each foot. Harry soon sees her with another woman with a checkbook in her hand, another familiar face.
Before he can second guess himself, he’s walking towards them.
“Hello, Lucy.” Harry greets her with a charming smile and a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.
“Mr. Styles, always a pleasure.”
“It’s always mine.”
“I was just speaking with Y/N here, thanking her for helping me plan a successful night.” Lucy smiles at Y/N, who squeezes Lucy’s outstretched hand.
“Quite something,” Harry inputs.
“Evening, Mr. Styles.”
He nods at her, “Y/N.”
“Lifelong Creativity is lucky to have her. I’m glad you were able to help out, Y/N.” They all hear Lucy’s name being called from a distance and know she’s about to leave them alone. “Excuse me, will you?”
It now leaves them alone, making Y/N finally look at him. Her lipstick is a soft pink with an added shine of glitter. He wonders if he were to kiss her if it’d stain his lips just the same. He clears his throat, willing the thoughts away.
“You’re an intern,” Harry states.
She doesn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I, uh, graduate soon.”
“Undergrad?”
She smirks because she knows he’s searching for information about her. Y/N shakes her head, “Grad.”
“What’s your job?”
“I work for various nonprofits as well as hospitals. I’m part of their sub-events team.” She shrugs like it’s nothing of importance, but it is.
She’s part of the team that plans events to gain more funding for their organization and programs. She plans events to get people with heavy pockets, like Harry, to fork away thousands for a cause they believe in. Harry had often disregarded Gala invites due to ticket prices, but if his chances to see Y/N increased, he might just come to them all.
Harry does his best to hide how impressed he is with her.
“I’m sure you’ve reached your goal. Emptied all these fools out of their pockets.”
Y/N flashes him a grim smile. “Good day.”
What he said was clearly wrong because what Harry thought would be a long conversation was cut short.
The rest of the night, he never finds a moment alone with her. It’s as if she was dancing around him, having noticed that he was chasing her. It seemed she loved to play, and Harry didn’t like to lose.
+
Harry needed to pick up his suit from his tailor. He had a date, and this was his good luck suit. He pushed Y/N out of his mind. She was an intern and too young for him. He did not need to think about her or worry about seeing her at another event he attended. He was picking up his burgundy suit that needed fixing. It was made by his dear friend Alessandro. Usually, Alessandro makes alterations, but he was traveling at the moment, and Bartolo was the best. He had been coming to Bartolo long before meeting Alessandro. While his friend always made the most gorgeous suits, he seemed to have gotten his measurements wrong. Not that he minded. Harry liked paying Bartolo a visit, who always told him he needed to settle down with someone. That he wanted to see Harry happy. Harry simply told him it wasn’t the card for him.
He walks in, ready to be greeted by Bartolo, but to his surprise, he sees Y/N seated on a chair facing away from the window with a book in her hand.
“Y/N?”
She looks up, a slight smile on her face. “Mr. Styles, a pleasure.”
“Just Harry, please.”
She shrugs him off.
“Do you work here, Y/N?” He loves the role of her name off his tongue.
“My friend is an apprentice.”
“Dawn?” Seeing she’s the only other worker here besides Bartolo wasn’t that lucky of a guess.
Y/N, for the first time ever, smiles at him. It’s beautiful. It leaves him breathless. “Yes. Does she work with you too?”
Harry clears his throat, “no, uh, I work with Bartolo.”
He was surprised. Dawn had been working with Bartolo for two years, never had he crossed paths with Y/N. It was strange he found himself meeting her outside of their usual environment of a Gala. Seeing her dressed in a silk midi skirt with a slit going up her leg bundled up in an oversized sweater showcasing her university. The chunky boots on her feet gave her extra height, and Harry wished she’d stand up so he could see where she’d measure to him now. At their first meeting, he didn’t take note, but she noticed how she was a head smaller than him by their second meeting. Today he wondered if she’d be lined up to his lips if she would think of kissing him just like he thought of her.
She hums in response, leaving them in silence. He doesn’t know why but he wants her to keep talking. He wants to hear the softness of her voice fill the room.
“Bello!” Bartolo grins, bringing out his suit in his garment bag. Even that bag was customized with his name stitched in gold thread.
“Hello, Bartolo.”
Dawn walks in from the back, a few steps away from Bartolo and Y/N. “Y/N, your dress is ready to try on.”
Y/N follows behind Dawn but calls to him, “see you, Mr. Styles.”
Not a single glance his way. He wanted just one final look, and she didn’t give him that. Harry goes on his way home after paying Bartolo. He goes home with a clouded mind and a heavy heart.
Harry cancels his date that night.
+
No invites have arrived at his house or office.
It has been over a month, and he waits and waits. Harry has never been so aware of time as he has now. He feels every hour move slower, and he has no idea why. What kind of spell has she set on him that she is all he can think of?
He was tempted to look for her online. He had the power to do it, but he couldn’t break her trust. Harry doesn’t know her well, but he knows she’d hate it if someone looked them up without permission.
A knock on his door breaks him out of these thoughts.
“Come in.”
“Mr. Styles,” his temporary assistant Diego, while Pearl was away on maternity leave.
“Yes, Diego.”
“You said to come in if you received a new invitation.” There, in his employee’s hand, is a gold envelope.
In black ink is his name written on the front of the envelope. He opens it and reads from a close partner of his.
Golden Skies Invites you to join us as we celebrate our 10th anniversary.
Formal Attire - Be ready to dance
Anthony Carmichael
+
Y/N was nervous.
She could remember the last time she had felt her palms sweat and her heart wanting to beat out of her chest. It was when she was interviewing in front of the board the last step to seal her fate if she’d be accepted into the Graduate program of her dreams. Now here, she was nervous for an entirely new reason, this one holding less value to her life, but she knew it had the power to change the course of her life.
As much as Y/N loved the game of chase, she wanted to see if Harry was all talk or serious about pursuing her. Y/N had the confidence to go after what she wanted, and right now, she wanted to ask Harry Styles, CEO of Pleasing, a growing business, their net worth growing by the day.
Today she wore a satin midi slip dress with floral applique and lace trims in a dark shade of pink. An open back with delicate buttons on her lower back. This dress only doubled her confidence. She was ready for tonight.
The team had planned a big night as there would be dancing and a live band, unlike the past gala’s she had attended last month. Guests arrived promptly and quickly took a tour of the venue, many judging it, trying to find anything they felt didn’t hold up to their standards. She didn’t mind; she knew she could never please everyone. As long as she pleased her partners, then she knew she had done a job well done.
Y/N had to will herself to stop staring at the doors as they opened, bringing in familiar and new guests. She was waiting for a green-eyed man who never failed to impress with his custom-made suits from Gucci’s creative director.
“Y/N, sweetie. This is marvelous,” Keaton praises, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks, something she had to grow accustomed to seeing as most of her partners were big on the French greeting.
“Oh, uh, thank you. We’ll have to see how the night goes,” she tells him brushing off the compliment.
“You need to relax. Don’t you have Gracie to worry for you?” Keaton questions.
“Yes, but–”
“Nope,” Keaton cuts her off. “You need a drink in hand. You look smokin’, and everyone needs to see it.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“As far as I am concerned, your work here is done.” Keaton passes her a glass of champagne he got from the waiters walking around happily offering them to guests. “Now drink.”
She takes a sip and hums, appreciating the bubbly drink. Y/n might not be sure what brand she’s drinking tonight, but she does know that each bottle costs over one hundred dollars, and if Keaton is telling her to enjoy then she will. Plus, a bit of liquor courage was always helpful.
Y/N spends time speaking with Nora and Liam, part of her team. They get lost in conversation, going over how they’re looking forward to the auction in a few weeks that Nora was happy to be part of. She loved getting people to spend money on her, and she seemed to get offers from everyone in the building. Nora returned with the most insane stories, and Y/N was excited for more. Getting lost in conversation, she forgot about the man she was waiting for to make his presence known. He had RSVP’d, and it wasn’t until Liam told her a broody man had his eye on her from across the room.
She knew Harry had arrived and that he had spotted her before she could spot him, not that Harry knew she was looking out for him. Harry stands alone, a champagne flute in his hand. The music was loud, and the dance floor had couples dancing and laughing out loud, enjoying the night. Y/N hoped she’d be joining in on their fun in a few minutes.
As Y/N walked towards Harry, she admired his suit. It was different from the previous ones he had worn. The suit had a subtle black flower print. As she got closer, Harry acted like he didn’t see her coming, choosing to look at the dancing couples. She allowed herself to notice the details in his suit, from the black velvet lapels on his oversized jacket and his trousers hugging his thighs nicely while the bottom gave a nice balance with a flared hem. She really liked the look.
“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greeted
“Y/N.”
She let his eyes roam over her knowing she looked amazing. This was a borrowed dress, one she would be sad giving back, but it served its purpose. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d have an occasion to wear the dress again, not when all these people would remember.
“Do you dance, Mr. Styles?” Y/N asks as she joins him in, watching couples spin each other around. The music was more lively than the classical she knew he preferred.
“Never.”
“Are you not good at it?”
Harry scoffs, “I’m just not open to doing something intimate with acquaintances.”
“I see.” They stay silent for a few minutes until Y/N decides it’s now or never. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” She tells him, turning away from the dance floor to face him.
Harry gives her no reaction. “Is that so?” She nods. “Well, go ahead.”
She looks behind her, and when she turns back around, she has the most gorgeous smile on her face, not an inch of nerves, not like a few seconds ago, and Harry feels his heart speed up. He wasn’t sure what she would ask, but he might just agree to anything she said if she continued smiling at him.
“I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with me.”
A date.
Harry felt his throat closing up. She was asking him out. He didn’t believe it. Why would she want to date him? He wasn’t aware he had managed to make an impression. Harry’s ego is through the roof at the thought of this gorgeous young woman wanting to go out with him, but on the other hand, his brain is telling him he can’t. That she was younger than him, and he had no reason to involve himself with her.
He knows he has been silent for too long as he sees her smile begin to slip. They both know the answer that’s coming.
“No, Y/N. The answer is no,” he forces out in a neutral voice, hoping she couldn’t pick up on the bitterness he felt towards himself for rejecting her.
Y/N did not move an inch. He had expected her smile to fall or for her to ask him to reconsider, but he got none of that. Instead, she tucked away her smile and gave him a slow nod. Her eyes stayed locked with his, and Harry had trouble reading her. It seemed she was unaffected. So he tries again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
She brushes him off, “you don’t go through life without receiving a rejection. You’re not the first, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
Except Harry doubted that. Who could ever say no to her? Apparently, he could.
He did nothing as she excused herself, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. He had no right to be with someone as sweet and young as Y/N. It was fine. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her after tonight.
Harry would think about this interaction for days, beating himself up for saying no, but it was for the best.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
+
Rejections never came easy.
It wasn’t the first time Y/N got told no, and as she told Harry, it wouldn’t be her last.
Was she disappointed he said no? Absolutely.
Was he out of her league? One hundred percent, and Harry must have known that.
Y/N thought there was something there. She knew who he was. There was a reason she sent him a drink that night. She didn’t ask him out for his connections or because he was crazy rich but because she heard people speak about Harry, a great man. From someone who spends time volunteering at the soup kitchen to donating gifts to hospitals during the holidays. No need to mention the extensive checks he leaves after each gala. Many people are philanthropists or say they are because it’s a write-off or will make them look good, but Harry does it to remember where he came from in that small town in England.
She knew too much about Harry from colleagues and guests but never got to know anything from the man himself, and that is something she’ll regret. Instead of taking the chance to learn from him, she asked him out, and now she’d keep sending invitations to his company while doing her best to avoid him, or at least until she got over the humiliation.
Y/N let herself wallow in pity for only a day. 24 hours is all she gives herself because it’s back to work on Monday. No need to be stuck on something so trivial.
By doing so, she takes herself out to eat. A meal that will always make her smile is dumplings, and she knows just the place. The Dumpling Bar is a favorite place of Y/N’s to dine alone or with her friends. The service is fantastic, never failing to leave her feeling so welcomed and leaving with a full stomach. She always sits in the front, with a nice view of the window facing the small lake it is located by. She treats it as a reward because it is a bit of a drive from her apartment. She wished she lived somewhere closer, but for now, she’ll keep making the drive. The back area is for classier meals, Y/N likes to say, even though they are all eating dumplings. Guests are allowed to have a seat in the backroom for a more intimate dinner.
Upon arrival, Y/N is greeted by Alba, the hostess who, just like her name, reflects the warmest energy she feels every time she sees her.
“Hi, Alba!”
“Hello beautiful, it’s great seeing you. Table by the window, alright?”
Alba points to the table Y/N had been eyeing since she walked in and eagerly lets her know it’s perfect.
“Danielle will be with you shortly.”
Y/N thanks her. It was not long before Danielle took her order, making small conversation and promising her that her food would be out shortly, and true to her word, Y/N did not have to wait long.
Oh, how she was looking forward to eating until her tummy was full. On a full stomach, she’d be too sleepy to even begin to remember why she was feeling sad.  
As Y/N munches on her dumplings, she can’t help but overhears the conversation. Next to her, a couple is sharing dumplings and talking very loudly.
“I told my father that a horse would not make me happy, not when my last one had been a champion. How could I go back to the Hamptons to show my face going from a winning horse to one that would surely be a loser.”
Y/N giggles. Oh, the drama. She enjoys listening to the couple, the boyfriend trying to be supportive and failing.
“Tell your dad to get the best trainer.”
“Chad, you’re not helping. Father is working hard, and I can’t bother him over a coach. Everyone is lousy in the industry now.”
The conversation seems to be going in circles. Y/N enjoys dining alone because she can’t imagine having dinner with someone she does not like. There would be awkward conversation and forced smiles. It’s a big reason she’ll never be on a dating app. Also, it helps that attending so many galas has connected her with many single men, not that any of them have been worth her time.
Y/N was waiting for Danielle to return her card and receipt because she was ready to call it a night. She had a full belly and was craving her bed. She’s humming along to the song being played in the restaurant. She had been trying to think of the song's name, but she’s been coming up blank. The front opens, and she hears Alba’s cheery voice greet them. Curiosity gets the best of Y/N, and she turns her head to the entrance to see who walked in when she sees a man in an emerald suit, the jacket a pinch oversized, and it seems the sleeves were folded in not that anyone would notice, the woman on his arm was gorgeous. It’s clear she dressed up for a night out on the town with how shiny her dress was, maybe even too bright for a fancy dumpling restaurant.
“My date and I have a reservation,” Y/N freezes as she hears the man’s voice. His voice was firm but polite, the English accent thick as he stated his name to Alba’s. He looks around the dining room, and that’s when Y/N looks back down, staring at her used napkin and empty cup that once held her raspberry lemonade.
The hostess nods, “we’ve got the private dining area ready, sir.”
Y/N ducks her head, afraid if he spotted her, he’d give her a look of pity, and she didn’t need that tonight, not when she had seen it when he rejected her.  It was no surprise he said no to her. She could never look that elegant on a weekday, let alone a day after a gala where she stayed hours past all the guests. Y/N sits there in orange bell bottoms and a black knitted sweater.  She looks lovely, and this is her favorite restaurant. This brought all the feelings back Y/N had thought she had let go of, and honestly, as much as it broke her heart, Y/N knew she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.
+
It’s been a month of endless planning and working with Hermanas Unidas, and Y/N was thankful the night was finally here. Tonight would be a bit different, and she was more on edge than ever. There would be an auction in a few hours, and Y/N wanted everything to run smoothly for Julieta, who has always been a good friend to her but today was her boss.
Y/N had raided Sapra’s, her best friend’s closet, once again. She knew she had to buy new clothes for her events, but she loved her best friend’s style and would rather borrow a dress than spend money on a new one. She was wearing a maxi dress with tie straps. Y/N chose it because she had fallen in love with the velvet material, and after trying it on, she felt sexy, not to mention she loved a slit to show off an extra bit of skin.
Sapra made Y/N promise she’d bring it back soon, stating it was her date night dress, and Y/N didn’t bother asking because whatever Sapra and her boyfriend did was not her concern.
The night had been in full swing since the doors opened to the venue. She had managed to blend into the background for most of the event and successfully avoided seeing the guest list for tonight, meaning she got to enjoy life without a care in the world.
After the rejection, she has happily moved on (or so she’s telling herself) Sapra and Atlas took her out on a double date that left her feeling back in her game. Her confidence was doubled, and she was ready to go out and have fun. No reason she had to stop because of one rejection. Although the man she went on a date with did not go well tonight, she’d be speaking with Colin, who had been made partner at Coulson’s Co. He was a family lawyer, and truth be told, Y/N was eating up everything he was telling her.
He was charming and had a deep laugh that sent chills down her spine. He was drinking wine and offered to get Y/N a glass when he saw she had been eyeing it. It’s safe to say Y/N was upset when Julieta’s assistant approached her to say she was needed backstage. Colin promised he’d miss her and looked forward to finding her soon.
Y/N was sure nothing would wipe the smile off her face until Julieta told Y/N why she was needed.
“Part of the auction?” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re joking!”
Julieta grimaced, “Erica called in sick. Always knew she’d flake.”
“Julieta!”
“Please, mi amor. I really need you. You’re all I have. I can’t do one less, not when I advertised five eligible bachelorettes.”
“Hope they can settle with me,” Y/N mutters.
“Dios, you know I hate when you talk like that. You are a beautiful woman. I’ve never seen confidence like yours, so please bring that Y/N back.” Julieta has done so much for Y/N, and she knows there’s no way she’d say no to her.
“Fine, what will I have to do?”
“It’s a good cause, Y/N, and I’m sure you’ll have a great time. If it’s someone you don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle it,” Julieta reassures her.
Y/N relents and allows herself to be dragged to the side of the stage, where four other ladies are lined up.
Here’s to a fun night. She really hoped Colin liked her enough to place a bid on her.
Harry was disappointed, to say the least. He had not caught a glimpse of her all night. He wanted to know what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair, and if she was drinking anything new. Tonight did not have a strict dress code, so he had settled on a simple black custom suit. He paired the suit with a black tank top, and to give it that extra flare, he wore his silver glitter boots.
As he spent the night looking for her, he knew he would not find her. The first time they met was because she wanted them to, and now she was back to blending into the crowd, but he knew he’d find her. He knew it was wrong to want to see her after rejecting her, but she was the only thing on his mind. Harry was never the type to get distracted, but here he is, attending another gala in the hope of getting a single glimpse of Y/N.
Harry knew he would find her, but he didn’t think it’d be by the owner of the organization presenting her onstage as an eligible bachelorette you could bid to take on a date. Harry was prepared to pay the auction no attention, but she always surprised him.  
He hadn’t seen her since he said no to her. Harry had rejected her not because he didn’t like her but because he was older. She was still in school, and he was running a billion-dollar company. He had the time and love to give, but he didn’t want to take away anything from her. He had no idea what she wanted out of life, and Harry was sure one date with Y/N and he’d be ready to get down on one knee because he recognized how intelligent and hardworking she was. It was rare that Harry found a person that could challenge him, but Y/N did it without a second thought. He didn’t want her to miss out on life experiences because he was at a different point in his life than her. He wouldn’t do it to her, no matter how much his heart hurt at never getting the chance to get to know her and the taste of her lips.
The bidding was starting, and Harry found himself with a numbered paddle. The number six stared at him, and he knew he would not be putting his hand down until he won that date with her because Harry was sure every person in that room who bid on her would not treat her the way she deserved.
“Good evening, everyone! I am Julieta, as you all already know. Tonight’s auction is slightly different. We always do amazing vacations, but tonight we decided something different. Behind me stand five beautiful women who are very important to this organization and me. So be aware that if you bid on one or more of these women, they will talk your ear off about Hermanas Unidas. Starting off, we have Clarissa.”
Y/N was the last person to be auctioned for the night. He didn’t know why she would do this? It didn’t seem like her, but then again, Harry didn’t really know her did he?
She walked up to Julieta with a beautiful smile on her face. She scanned the audience, and Harry froze, thinking she was searching for him but there in the second row, she locked eyes with a man and offered him a wink. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she was seeing someone else already. He knew he was feeling green but swallowed it down, for it wasn’t the place to act out on jealousy of someone he had no ownership over.
“Bidding for the angelic Y/N starts at $500.”
Four hands shot up. Harry’s included.
“$1000,” the blonde guy in the second row offered as he was the first hand up.
“Very well. Do I have $1,250?”
Harry was quicker this time, his number up first. Julieta nodded, accepting his bid. He had his eyes locked on Y/N, and the moment she realized it was his number, he saw her take a step back, surprised to see him bidding for her.
She kept a smile, but he knew it was forced now, no longer carefree.
“$1,500?”
The blonde once again beat Harry, “$3,000.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Is that the best this guy could offer? Harry was ready to lay down all his money if it meant a date with Y/N. The highest bid was for Samantha at $11,000, and the person who bid was her boyfriend, the owner of his family’s business he inherited three years ago.
He decided he’d wait to see how long this guy wanted to play because, for Y/N, he wouldn’t be backing down. “$5000,” Harry countered.
That seemed to get the blonde’s attention as he turned around to get a look at Harry, who only offered him a smirk tempting him to play his game, and by the scrawl the blonde gave Harry, he knew this was now about betting the most for Y/N but also who could prove to have the larger pocket.
“$8,000,” the blonde stood, not even glancing at Y/N anymore.
“$10,000.” Harry has now stepped closer to the stage, not caring that all the attention was on him and his opponent.
“$15,000,” the blonde winced, and it seemed only Harry heard it.
Julieta waited to see if Harry would respond, with one last raise of his paddle, “$30,000.”
The gasps were loud, but Harry didn’t care. His eyes were locked on Y/N’s, who stared at him in disbelief. He had doubled the blonde’s number, and it seemed he was out by the way he shook his head and sat down.
Julieta did not let her surprise show and accepted Harry’s bid, closing the auction with an offer of $30,000 for Y/N to go on a date with him. Harry was proud and shot the blonde man a smug smile as he was guided backstage, as he asked to speak with Julieta when in reality, he went in search of Y/N.
Upon arrival, he found her taking a sip of her red wine for the night. She looked exquisite, not a hair out of place, and her makeup was done to perfection. She shined as the true diamond of the night.
“Y/N,” Harry called out to her softly.
She turned, a frown on her face. “Mr. Styles.”
Harry frowned. He couldn’t detect an ounce of kindness in her voice. “Seems like we have a date,” he joked, wanting to see her smile.
Y/N scoffs, “why did you do it, Mr. Styles?”
“Pardon?” Harry hates how she says his name with so much distaste.
“Why’d you bid on me? It’s clear you have no interest in me.”
Harry wasn’t sure where to go from here because that was the furthest from the truth. He didn’t have to reply because Y/N wasn’t done talking.
“How can you be jealous when you said no when I asked you out?” Harry stays silent. “That’s what it was, right? My attention wasn’t on you anymore, and you didn’t like that. Did flaunting all your money make you feel good?”
“Y/N,” he steps towards her, but she puts her hand up to stop him, and he freezes. “I’m asking you now.”
She frowns, her voice rising. Harry never wished to see her upset, but it’s exactly what he caused. “No, this isn’t you asking.”
Harry sighs. There is no getting through to her. “Come on, Y/N, don’t be difficult.”
It’s clear that was the wrong thing to say because her eyebrows scrunch up, and there’s not a hint of kindness in her eyes, only a blazing fire that he seemed to be the cause of, and he regrets everything he has said to her from the moment he met her.”
“This is how you want to go out,” she points to the number on her chest, displaying her as contestant number five. “Because if so, I’ll take the money, but I won’t go.”
“C’mon, Y/N, give me a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“YOU BOUGHT ME, HARRY!”
Harry winces because he did. He bought a date with her, and some part of him regrets doing this without speaking to her, but it’s too late now.
Julieta comes up behind Y/N and places a hand on her shoulder, “Mr. Styles, thank you for your donation. We will deposit the check the day after your date, you know, for insurance purposes on both ends.”
“Of course, Julieta. I have always been a fan of the work you are all doing.” Harry hopes she doesn’t pick up on the tension between him and Y/N.
“You’re a gem, Mr. Styles.” Julieta shoots him a polite smile before turning her attention to Y/N. “I owe you one, Y/N, but I’m sure you’ll have a great night with this fine gentleman.”
And like that, they’re alone again.
They stand there in silence, waiting for Julieta to turn the corner to return to the party. They don’t want anyone overhearing their conversation. It’s clear they both have a lot more to say.
Harry starts wanting Y/N to know how sorry he is. “Don’t, uh, don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as an apology.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “an apology I’m forced to accept because you paid for it.”
Harry grimaces. There’s no coming back from this.
“What would your girlfriend think of spending $30 grand on another person?”
Girlfriend?
There was no girlfriend in his life. It’s been years since he had a partner. There’s only one girl he wishes to make his girlfriend, but he royally screwed that up, so he knows it will never happen.
“No girlfriend, I can assure you.”
“You’re a liar,” Y/N spits out.
“Enough,” Harry rebuttals. “There is no one.”
“I saw you. I won’t date someone else’s boyfriend.”
“Saw me?”
“Eating dumplings, or I was eating dumplings,” she fumbles. “You walked in with a date. I’m sure you were very cozy in the private room.
Harry’s eyes widened, “Y/N no, it was only a date.”
Hearing it was a date just as much as seeing him with the other woman. It is confirmation enough for Y/N to know there wasn’t another person she’d be hurting if word got out she went out on a date with Harry Styles.
“Please,” Harry begs.
“If I do this, you double the donation,” Y/N counters, and seeing how desperate Harry looked, she knew he’d agree to anything at this moment.
Harry doesn’t even react. He pulls out his checkbook, ready to write the check.
“Make it out to you or the charity,” Harry teases, hoping to ease the tension.
She rolls her eyes, “Hermanas Unidas would be wonderful, thank you.”
“Y/N,” his tone full of defeat
“I’m doing this for Julieta,” Y/N declares.” Not for you.”
Harry nods.
“You can get my number from the sheet. All the details for your reward are there.”
Harry watches her pick up her drink and walk away from him, leaving him alone to feel sorry for himself. And he knows he has a lot to make up for if he wants any chance with Y/N.
+
Y/N has been dreading this day.
It had been a week from the fateful day of the auction where Harry bid $30,000 well, now $60,000 for a date with her. The donation would do wonders, but she had to make it through an afternoon with Harry. Seeing as Harry informed her that it would be something casual but ending with a nice dinner. Y/N had no idea what that meant, but she decided that her brown checkered trousers and an old knitted sweater that always kept her warm would be a safe outfit.
She managed to slip on her shoes as she heard the doorbell ring, perfect timing.
Opening her door, she found Harry smiling, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. They were a beautiful shade of violet chrysanthemums. Y/N knew these were a rare shade to find, and she tried her best to bite back her smile at the sentiment.
“Hi, Harry.”
“Hello, Y/N, you look wonderful.”
She nodded but made no move to invite him in.
“Uh, t-these are for you,” he extended his hand, waiting for her to accept them. She was careful to not have his fingers brush against hers, not needing him to add to her nerves.
“I’ll, umm, go put these in water.”
Y/N knows she left him awkwardly hanging outside her apartment, but she was, in a way, inviting him in. She doesn’t want or need to cross that line with him. After setting the flowers on her counter and double-checking that the stove was off, she grabbed her bag and returned to Harry, who looked awkward waiting for her.
As Y/N locks her door and follows behind Harry, she can see that he did mean casual. He’s wearing wide-leg jeans that don’t do much to give him any shape. He paired it with a duck-stitched cardigan that softened his features in a way that his luxurious suits never have.  
Harry opened her door, offering a small smile as she slipped into his Bentley; the car couldn’t be more than a few months old by how sleek and cared-for everything looked. Y/N thinks of her Camry, better known as Baymax. The car that got her through undergrad and is still by her side now as she’s getting her master’s. Baymax has seen better days, but from what her father tells her, as long as she continues to care for the car as she has been, she has many years left with Baymax.
Harry's playlist in his car allows her to relax, classical music has always had a calming effect on her, and this time is no different. Harry didn’t try to spark conversation during the ride, and Y/N didn’t want to try either. She could feel the tension rising in the car as he fiddled every few minutes with the radio while Y/N tried to figure out where he was taking her.
It was half an hour until Harry turned up a paved road that led them to a large building, the parking lot full of cars. Y/N sat up straight, trying to figure out where he had brought them, but she’d never driven out this way. It was a hidden area, and the road easily missed when driving down if one isn’t actively searching for it.  
They pass a sign that reads, “Sunshine Haven” Y/N wants to say she’s heard the name but can’t pin it at this moment, she’s tempted to take her phone out and google, but something tells her Harry will have an explanation for her. As Harry parks in a spot that reads ‘reserved,’ she unbuckles herself but doesn’t move to get out as she sees Harry has not moved, instead playing with the beaded charm on his key chain.
“Before we go in, I want to say that I did go on a date.” Harry begins, clearly uncomfortable but important enough for him to bring up. “She is not my girlfriend. It was only one date.”
Y/N shrugs, disinterested. It doesn’t matter to her, no more than he does to her right now.
“I asked her out. It was a bad date. That’s all. I don’t even have her number.”
Y/N wishes he hadn’t told her this, that he kept it to himself because it hurts her a lot more than she thought to hear Harry talk about asking another person out. He asked that person out because he was interested in them, while Y/N got a rejection. It’s clear to her now that Harry goes after what he wants, and it’s clearly not her.
“All forgotten,” she tells him with a forced smile and then gets out of the car. Harry follows a few seconds after coming to meet her at her side. Y/N feels the chilly air and is thankful for her sweater because she doesn’t know what Harry has planned, but it doesn’t feel like anything warm is waiting for her.
He begins to walk, and Y/N follows a step behind him. She takes in the beautiful environment growing around her, the trees and shrubs a bright green displaying how much sunlight they must receive daily. Harry stops walking as they reach the welcome center entrance. Y/N sees how fidgety he’s gotten again and knows he has something to share, so she stays silent.
Harry rubs his eyebrow, a tell-sign he’s nervous, “uh, I thought Sunshine Haven Rehabilitation would be a good place to bring you because I’ve seen various causes you’re passionate about, and well, this is one of mine.” He gestures to the entrance, where there’s a bulletin board of all the animals that have been released back into the ocean; on the bottom are sponsors, and listed second to last is none other than H. Styles. His photo icon is of him smiling, that dimple he never seems to show off was on display with a stuffed dolphin in his arms, and it warms Y/N’s stomach in a way she hasn’t felt since she first introduced herself to him.
Y/N knows she has mixed emotions. She can go about this one of two ways: act nonchalant as if her heart didn’t grow three sizes when finding out that Harry brought her to a place that clearly meant so much to him, or embrace the day and see what Harry and this beautiful rehabilitation have to offer.
“Lead the way then, Styles,” Y/N gave him a small smile, hoping to ease his nerves, and the one she got in return managed to call her down as well.
Y/N was ready to get to know the real Harry Styles, even if it didn’t mean anything more to Harry because, at the end of the day, she could make a fantastic friend, which didn’t sound like a bad idea to her. Walking in, a receptionist greets them, asking if they’re here to volunteer or pay for a visit until the lady slips her glasses on and gasps seeing Harry in front of her.
“Young man, you haven’t been here in ages,” she scolds him.
Y/N bites a smile as Harry looks down bashfully. She uses this time to look at the woman’s name tag: Sally.
“Sorry, Sally. I’ve been busy.” Harry wraps her in a hug, and Sally sighs.
“Fine, fine. Go on, I forgot you called in.”
Y/N, not wanting to be rude, moves aside and stretches out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Y/N, a friend of Harry’s. Thank you for having us.”
“Oh, sweetie, aren't you polite.” Sally accepts her hand, giving her a firm shake. “I’d hug you, but this one is known to be jealous.” Sally gestures to Harry, causing Y/N to laugh.
“I know.” Y/N grins at Harry loving the chance to tease him.
“Haha, we’ll be going now.”
“Have fun, dears.”
Harry opens a door, leading them down a long hallway until it shows displays of different areas for each animal in the rehabilitation center. It’s clear how loved this location is, with all volunteers walking around each animal center.
“What are we allowed to do?”
He shrugs, “mainly walk around, feed a seal if we’re lucky.”
She tries to contain her excitement, “are we going to be lucky?”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we.”
Y/N pouts but doesn’t push him. He kind of hoped she would. She lets Harry take the lead in showing her around. A few other school groups are volunteering, and Y/N knows if she were their age, she would have also signed up to volunteer here. Her time in the library was put to good use; she learned how to code and the Dewey decimal system of her town’s library.
She stays silent as Harry tells her about the first section: the sea turtles. Y/N can’t help but take in Harry as he talks about Sunshine Haven with pride; his eyes shine with every new fact he rambles about without looking at any of the information boards displayed. Y/N doesn’t dare interrupt him, letting him guide her. She’s almost tempted to reach for his hand because his strides are more extended than hers, and she always finds herself catching up.
Y/N stops as she sees a sign for the otters. Her eyes shine with delight. She calls his name when she sees him walking away.
“Let’s go there, please.” It’s her first request, and Harry smiles, seeing her waiting for him to say yes and guide them to see the otters, her favorite animal.
“I don’t know, seems busy.” He teases.
She doesn’t stop herself when she reaches for his hand, deciding that she will take him there since he doesn’t seem to want to take her.
“Hurry, Harry. I want to see the otters. Please,” she begs
“Lead the way, love.”
She leads the way to the otters while Harry giggles knowing he’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. Y/N made him feel like a little kid full of happiness and never-ending energy. He wanted to spend every moment with her, and having the day with her would have to be enough for now.
Y/N coos as she catches sight of the otters happily swimming in the cold water. She steps towards the glass waving at the otters, although Y/N and Harry know the otters can’t see her. It doesn’t stop her; if anything, she steps closer, trying to get herself as close to them as possible. She looks like a little kid admiring their favorite animal for the first time.
“Didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Harry tells her as she marvels in awe at the different sea animals.
“Oh, I was certain I would be a marine biologist when I was five.”
Harry laughs, clearly picturing a small Y/N with her wide smile looking at picture books of animals and stating she’d be taking care of them.
“What happened?”
“Biology is what happened,” she shutters in disgust. “They made me dissect a frog, and it broke my heart. I thought they were all about helping animals, not studying their insides.”
“Oh, love.”
Y/N feigns tears, “I’ve never recovered.” She lifts her head to flash him a cheeky smile while he shakes his head at her antics.
Harry giggles at her act of sadness, having believed her bit. “You’re trouble.”
She shrugs, “only a few can handle me.”
And Harry knows he would be lucky to say that she’s his.
+
Dinner is something Harry had been looking forward to all afternoon. He enjoyed walking around Sunshine Haven with Y/N and seeing her relaxed and happy in an environment he loved. Harry led her down some stairs until they were met by a small opening that led them to a large tunnel. Y/N let out a gasp seeing all the fishes swimming all around her. She looked on in awe, not even noticing Harry capturing a photo of the moment.
“That’s a tiger shark,” she breathed out, pointing it out to Harry.
“That’s Tank,” he shares.
“Will she be released soon?” Y/N hears Harry sigh and knows that won’t be the case for Tank. “What happened?”
“They found him young, and his dorsal fin was cut off. Most sharks can survive without it over time, but he was so young that he was seen as prey, not a predator.”
“He isn’t bothered by the other fish?”
Harry guides Y/N to sit down, letting her continue to marvel at the ocean life around her. “We let him roam, then he returns to his own tank. He’s respectful because he isn’t the best hunter, but we’ve seen he loves his space.”
“I’ve always liked sharks. Feel like they’re misunderstood.”
Harry laughs loud and rich, making Y/N smile, knowing she’s the reason he’s laughing. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Come on, they’re a feared animal due to movies or shark bites. There’s a 1 in 7 million chance you’ll get bitten or die from a shark attack. You have a higher chance of getting taken out by the flu.” She tells him as Harry removes the silver food cover to reveal a plate of chili tofu and a rainbow pasta salad.
“You’re right,” he agrees. Harry is constantly in awe around Y/N, finding new ways to be surprised by her, whether it be her beauty or intelligence. “Hope you enjoy the food. I know you mentioned being a fan of tofu.”
“Oh, it smells delicious. Is this from a restaurant nearby?”
Harry ducks his head to hide the blush on his face, “no, uh-I-I made it.”
Y/N widens her eyes in surprise as she takes her first bite. Harry watches as she chews, not looking away from him even when she reaches for her drink.
“Thoughts?” He asks.
She giggles, “it’s amazing.”
Harry tries his best not to look too smug, but he knows he’s failing because his mother always told him the way to someone’s heart was through their stomach, and for her to be a fan of his food means he was a step in the right direction. He wishes he had called his mother more for advice because he knows if he had talked to her about Y/N, he wouldn’t have messed it up so many times.
“Right, Harry. You’ve got to tell me about the time you fell into the waste bins.”
Harry gasps in shock. It’s a story only a few knew around here, “when did Sally have the time to spill these lies?”
Y/N laughs, not at all surprised he was quick to deny the story. “Fine. You can tell me how the dolphins wouldn’t accept your treats.”
“Now, that’s not fair. They’re spilling all my secrets.”
Y/N enjoyed dinner with Harry. He was easy to talk with, never once cutting her off and always having his gaze on her. There wasn’t a moment she thought she had lost him, not even when she rambled on about evaluation reports she had to sit through every few months. She always seemed to do the data cleaning because no one had figured out how to use the template she provided, even with all the lessons she gave each employee.
Harry assured her after dinner that there was no need to clean up, that he had it handled. She agreed and let Harry walk her out, where they got the most gorgeous sunset view behind the trees. Sally waved them goodbye making Y/N promise to come back even if it wasn’t with Harry. Y/N promised she would; she had seen a flyer on the bulletin about rescues they have every other weekend when they open it up for volunteers in training, and Y/N wanted to make time to come out for one of those dates.
The drive home is filled with aimless chatter as Harry tries to learn about Y/N. He’s surprised by how much she’s actually willing to share, but he’s not one to question it. He likes answering her as well. He doesn’t think he’s told someone his favorite cereal choice in years; no one has ever wanted to know something so irrelevant, yet Y/N made his answer feel special. His past girlfriends were into materialistic items, not that Harry minded, but conversations always dulled if they did not involve the newest fashion trends or famous designers.
“I didn’t take you as a Lorde fan,” Y/N tells Harry as she sees him singing along to one of the artist's newer songs.
Harry turns to face her for a moment before turning back to the road, “what did you expect then?”
“Hmmm….you really appreciate Jazz and love any piano piece, so I assumed Joni Mitchell, Carole King, oh, and Van Morrison.”
“Wow! You take me for an oldy, Y/N,” he gasps.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
He shakes his head, laughing, “can’t do that.”
“Knew it,” she celebrated.
“What about you?” Harry turns the question back to her.
“I want to hear what you think.”
“That’s a lot of pressure,” he tells her honestly.
Harry racks his brain, trying to picture the type of music Y/N would listen to. He’s never really thought about it, but she seems the type to love melancholy songs or love songs that you can’t help but sing at the top of your lungs.
“You’re a Spice Girls fan.”
Y/N laughs fill the car, and Harry wishes he could store it in his memory forever; he knows he’ll never hear another sweeter sound. “Who isn’t, Harry?”
“Fine, you’re a Taylor Swift fan. You love those romance songs, and maybe Lana Del Rey. She’s got that unique voice.”
She takes in his response for a second, “I mean, you’d find them both on my playlists absolutely, but they wouldn't be top five on my Spotify wrapped.”
Harry chuckles, not surprised he was wrong, “well, who is it then?”
Y/N grins, taking Harry’s phone that was sitting on the console. Harry hears her typing away then a familiar beat fills the car, and she is quick to join the lead singer in singing.
“Paramore,” he states.
“Paramore,” she repeats. “They’re amazing,” she shrugs, “I’ve always seen them have fun with their music, and I love that.”
“My friend’s a co-writer with them on their new album,” Harry shares nonchalantly.
“Shut up!” Y/N yells.
“What?”
“Oh! That’s amazing! Ugh, I’m so jealous. I’ve always aspired to be Hayley Williams.”
Harry has never seen Y/N be more her age than right now as she gushes over a band she loves. He’s always seen her serious and professional, and he likes that side of her, but laidback Y/N is just as sweet. Harry can feel her creeping into his heart.
He’s disappointed when the GPS announces they’re right outside her home. He did not want the date to end. Harry knows he went about everything wrong with Y/N, but he hopes he can get a real chance with her after tonight. Y/N lets him walk her up, his hand on the small of her back. She’s fumbling with her keys stuck in her bag's zipper; he watches on, amused, until she flashes him a slight grin to show she’s got them.
“Thank you for today, Harry.”
“Of course, Y/N.”
“Would–”
Harry cuts her off, having almost forgotten an essential part of tonight, “forgot to hand you the check.” He chuckles, reaches into his coat, and slips out a folded check. He didn’t see Y/N’s face fall as if finally remembering the reason she went on the date tonight.
Y/N looks down at the check and knows that as meaningful as the date was for her, it was still a debt to be paid.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
Harry doesn’t know what happened in a matter of seconds, but he doesn’t want the night to end on a heavy note, so he shares something weighing heavy on his chest. “I like you, Y/N,” he breathes out. He doesn’t let her answer. “I'll see you soon.”
Y/N watches Harry walk away, leaving her more confused than ever.
+
Harry was shopping for a gift. It was his niece’s birthday in a few days, and he knew that at eight, Abigail had become a big reader, what better gift than a few of his favorite books, as well as a year membership that allows her to get a new book each week. He was browsing a shelf when he froze, seeing someone at the end of the aisle reading a book. He didn’t expect to see Y/N so soon. She looked beautiful. Her hair was in a ponytail, a ribbon holding it all together. It seemed fitting for her. He didn’t expect to see her so soon after their date.
He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. It’s clear the date went well, at least to him, but when they said goodbye, he felt a shift. It was awful to realize, but Harry was nervous about approaching her. He wished he had a percent of confidence like he did going into corporate meetings, where he always owned the room the second he walked in. Yet, ten seconds in the presence of Y/N, he feels nervous and forgets every word in the English language.
After finally deciding not to approach her and instead head straight to the register, Y/N tucks the book under her arm and turns to find Harry right in front of her. He sees the surprise settle on her face, and he knows he needs to leave. Abigail’s presents can wait. He pretended he didn’t see Y/N and acted like it didn't break his heart to see her smile fall. Instead, he walked right past her like he wasn't hurting her or himself. He knew he was ruining his chances with Y/N, romantic and platonic.
Y/N stood in her spot, frozen. Harry brushed past her like they had not gone out on a “date” two nights ago. As if he didn’t tell her he wanted it to be an actual date that he “liked” her. It was a bunch of bullshit to toy with her feelings, but Y/N has decided she’s had enough. There will be a gala this coming weekend, and she’s decided he no longer deserves a minute of her time.
+
Harry was uneasy, arriving at the gala tonight. He hoped to find Y/N immediately because how they last saw each other left a bad taste in his mouth. He was done with these games. He didn’t care about anything else, not when all he wanted was Y/N, but first, he owed her an apology.
He spotted Y/N right away. He had come to learn that where the conversation was loud and joyful, that is where he would find her. She seemed to be the shining light of every event, as everyone who spoke to her always left with a dazed smile. It’s as if she bewitched them, and Harry knows he’s fallen under her spell as well, and he never wants it to end.
He could see she was guiding a conversation with ease. He took the time to admire her dress; her gowns never failed to leave him breathless, as if each one was perfectly made just for her. Tonight she wore a prune midi dress with a crew neckline and what Harry recognized as cap sleeves. The button detailing falls off-center, allowing the dress to give more shapes to areas of desire. The slit on her dress seemed to lie higher than other dresses he’s seen her wear, and he wished he was lucky enough to know what she had under.
Harry joins the group, pardoning for the interruption and addressing the group before letting his gaze rest on Y/N, who he sees standing close to the gentleman next to her. After a few seconds of staring at her, he can see where her arm is hooked in the crook of the man next to her.
He does his best to hide the shock. Seeing her at an event with someone else, let alone another man, doesn't feel real.
She always came alone.
Now here she was, smiling brightly with the man laughing at each joke she told.
“Mr. Styles,” she’s grinning, and it hurts to know he’s back to that formal name, no longer Harry. The reason she’s happy is because of the gentleman she’s proudly showing off by having him at her arm.
“Y/N,” his voice was low and defeated.
“This is–”
“Excuse me, will you–”  he interrupts before she can introduce her date. He was a fool for thinking he had a chance; he rejected her and bought a date. For fuck’s sake, he really screwed everything up. He heads to the bar hoping to drink away the time.
Y/N isn’t one to allow someone to walk all over her, but it seemed there always was an exemption to the rule, and for her, it was Harry Styles. He’s been insufferable from the moment she introduced herself to him, but she found him charming. She took a shot, and it didn’t land. That was fine. Their date was good but nothing more, not when it wasn’t real.
Tonight when she wanted to present Mr. Styles to her brother-in-law, Isaac, he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He was a real piece of work. As much as she didn’t want to believe all the rumors she was starting to hear about Mr. Styles, they were getting harder to deny, especially when he brushed her aside in almost every meeting they had.
“You alright, Y/N?” Isaac asks, escorting her away from two fellow donors who promised a check of $20,000 and over to the open bar on the other side of the room.
Y/N sighs. There’s no point in lying. “That’s Harry,” she muttered.
Isaac gasps, “no, the handsome guy who glared at me from the moment he walked in and saw you at my side.”
“The very one.” She doesn’t seem to pick up on the last bit of his sentence.
“He’s handsome,” Isaac states.
“And he knows it.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t a douche,” Isaac questions her, confused. “Or Matias said he hadn’t been.”
“You both gossip too much,” Y/N accepts the whiskey he hands her and takes a sip before hammering it all back.
“Taking it back to the old days, I see,” he teases.
“Piss off. You and my brother did much worse, if I recall.”
Isaac scoffs, “Matias and I were the perfect children. Don’t care what you say.”
“Your mother’s front door says otherwise,” Y/N reminds him.
“That’s not fair. You and Sapra took the car up to Bristol for the weekend.”
“With permission,” you remind him.
He scoffs, accepting anything whiskey from the bartender. “How have you two always been the favorites?”
“Because we didn’t fall in love with each other.”
“You’re a wanker!” Isaac nudges her side, careful to not spill her second drink.
Y/N laughs, leaning her head onto her brother-in-law's shoulder. She always has the best time with him. It’s the reason she asked him to come with her tonight, also because her brother asked for her help to get him out of the house to allow him to bring in and hide Isaac’s birthday gifts that he somehow always managed to find each year.
Isaac helps Y/N work the room. She had forgotten how much fun it was to hang out with Isaac. He seemed to always be a package deal with her brother, not that she minded but spending time with him reminded her how much he always made her laugh.
“He’s watched you all night,” Isaac informs her after returning with a new drink from the bar Y/N, having walked away from Daniel, a cold stone CEO who turned into a giant teddy bear promising a check of $10,000 after a five-minute conversation with Y/N.
Y/N shrugs him off, “I’m over it.”
“Sure, babes.”
Y/N scoffs, “I am.”
“You want to be under him, not over him,” Isaac tells her, not at all falling for her charade.
“But he’s been a dick.”
“I think he’s intimated.”
“Of?” Y/N questions.
“You, dummy.” Isaac gestures to Harry, who’s standing next to a few other men clearly in charge of the conversation, but he doesn’t seem to care because he glances at her every few minutes. “He’s probably never met a woman who’s asked him out to get to know him. Maybe he thought you were only trying to sleep with him.”
What Isaac is saying makes no sense to her, but maybe he has a point. Maybe Harry didn’t know her intentions, and that’s why he told her no, it doesn’t explain his other actions, but it is a start.
“Enough.” She’s tired of discussing Harry and would rather head home now before Harry gains the courage to approach her. “ I’m going to the restroom, and you’re getting my coat. I know a good place to eat.”
“You paying?” Isaac teases.
“Yes, you little diva.”
Isaac presses a loud kiss to her cheek, sending her off with a slap to her ass, “off you go.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at his dramatics but goes off to do her business. She was feeling hungry tonight. Leaving the restroom, Y/N bumps into someone waiting right outside. She laughs as the person helps her straighten out.
“Haha, sorry there.” She really should be more careful.
“You okay?”
Y/N freezes. Of course, it’s him.
“All good,” she assures Harry.
“Good.”
She stands there awkwardly, waiting to see if he would say anything, but he stays silent.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she moves past him.
“Y/N, wait.”
She looks at him expectantly.
He sighs, and he runs his hand through his hair, a tell sign he’s nervous. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I was having a bad day and didn’t want to bother you.”
“Wasn’t so hard, huh, to let someone know you see them but didn’t have time to talk.”
He shakes his head, “not at all.”
“Hmm…”
“I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”
Y/N shrugs. “Well, it’s done, I guess. We don’t owe each other anything.”
Harry deserves her hesitancy. He hasn’t been good to her, but he misses seeing her smile and laugh at his awful jokes.
“Ready to go home, babes?” Isaac calls from behind Harry, holding up her coat.
She holds back a smile shaking her head at Isaac, who has a Cheshire grin. Harry looks at her like he wants her to say no, that she’ll stay with him, but she’s had enough of his games.
“Good night, Mr. Styles.”
“Y/N,” he reaches for her hand but stops. They both stare at his arm, having stopped inches from touching her until he drops it back to his side.
“Take care.”
Harry nods as he watches another man drape her coat around her, then place a hand on the small of her back and guide her out.
He really had no chance now.
+
Y/N loved ice cream.
When she was younger, her parents loved taking her out for ice cream after any kind of academic achievement, wanting to shower her with praise just as much as they did her brother, a star athlete. She loved coming because she got to pick a new flavor each week and also how they found out she was allergic to pistachio.
Growing up close in age, many thought she and Matias would not get along, but that was not the case being the younger sister allowed her to see her brother in a guiding light. She loved following after him at least she did until he pushed her down the last few steps of stairs for breaking his favorite crayon. He broke her arm, which she was allowed to hold over his head forever.
He was the reason she had to learn to write with her left hand. Their parents thought they would hate each other after that fight, but it only brought them closer together. Matias realized how fragile his sister was and vowed never to hurt her or anyone again. It's why he became a swimmer. No actual harm would come to him or anyone while Y/N gained the strength to stand up for herself, not wanting to be seen as weak.
As much as Matias denies it, his heart broke when Y/N met Sapra, her best friend, because it meant he was losing her as his best friend, something he’d never dare tell her. Sapra walking into Y/N’s life was amazing because it made her glad she had a brother because it meant she could have Sapra as the sister she never had. From the day they partnered in English for a project, Sapra being the new student and Y/N the star student, they did not go a day without each other. They became part of each other’s families and officially became sisters thanks to the help of their brother by falling in love and getting married.  Now here she was for her weekly ice cream date with Sapra.
“He didn’t!” Sapra gasps as Y/N explains how Isaac cut off Harry and escorted her out like a true gentleman.
Y/N nods, licking her caramel vanilla ice cream. “Yup, he looked like a kicked puppy.”
“Oh, that’s devastating.”
“It was.”
“I thought you liked him.”
She shrugs, “he’s all mixed signals. I ask him out, and he says no. I’m auctioned as a date he buys me. The next time I see him, he ignores me.”
“Maybe he didn’t see you.”
Y/N gives her a deadpan look. “We stopped right in front of each other. Had a book in hand, and he had a coffee. I waved, gave him a smile, and took a step towards him, and he stared past me and then walked past me.”
“Right…” Sapra realized there was no bright side to her situation.
“I seriously don’t get his problem. If this man says he’s doing all that because he likes me, I’ll call bullshit.”
Sapra sighs, “maybe he likes you but doesn’t like how forward you are. Maybe he’s into sweet innocent girls.”
“Ugh, this is why I don’t date. I seriously thought he’d be mature for being older. Seems all that money has clogged his brain.”
Y/N watches as her best friend laughs.
“Speak of the devil,” Sapra gestures behind Y/N, and she does her best to bite back a groan.  
“Noooo,” she groans. “This is my favorite shop.”
Harry notices Sapra staring at him and shoots her a polite smile. “He saw me.”
“He doesn’t know you.”
They decide to ignore him, and it works. Sapra finished her ice cream, and Y/N excused herself to the restroom claiming they had a few more stops before ending their day together. Y/N returns from the bathroom just in time to see Harry standing in front of Sapra, a cup of ice cream in his hand. As she gets closer, she meets Sapra’s eyes which are telling her to stop, but she doesn’t listen, able to catch Harry’s final words.
“--love to take you on a date.”
She’s not sure what to feel. Instead, she doesn’t let an inch of emotion show as she says excuse me taking her seat in front of Sapra again. Y/N sees the exact moment Harry’s face falls as he recognizes her. Then back to Sapra, the person she told him about on their so-called date.
“Y/N,” he breathed out.
“Mr. Styles,” she addressed him coldly. “See, you met my best friend, Sapra. We’ve spoken about her.”
He clears his throat, evident in the growing tension. Y/N’s expressions stay neutral while Sapra looks at Y/N, smirking.
“Well, Mr. Styles, as flattered as I am. The answer is going to be no.” Sapra shrugs, no longer meeting his eyes.
Harry fidgets with his rings, his discomfort apparent, “no, I understand.”
“Heard you met my brother. He’s a real charmer.” Sapra tells him.
“Sorry?”
“At the gala,” Sapra reminds him. “He was Y/N’s date. Think they make a great pair.”
Harry frowns, feeling his skin itch.
Y/n decides to end his suffering. “Isaac is Matias’ husband. My brother, I told you about him.”
“The older brother who painted your mum's wagon pink,” he checks to confirm.
“The very one.”  
“Have a nice day,” Sapra tells him harshly, cutting off the conversation from going any further.
“Good day.” Not an ounce of confidence in his walk. If anything, Y/N thought he looked sad.
Both girls watched him walk away until he was outside and in his car. Y/N isn’t sure what to say, but she can’t say she blames Harry. All through their time in school together, Sapra was the person all the boys asked out. While Y/N was the person, they went to for advice, not that she ever helped them. It wasn’t until she was at university did she realize she didn’t care what others thought. Y/N started working on her self-confidence, and she blossomed. When she first asked a boy in her English class, and he said yes, she felt empowered. She took that energy and put it into her work ethic. It’s why she’s so successful today. She will admit it hurt seeing Harry ask out her best friend, but it also helps put things into perspective that Harry Styles might not be the man she thought he was.
+
Harry is an idiot.
He has one girl on his mind, and to take his mind off her, he asks another out, only for it to be her friend, her best friend of all people. He really screwed this one up.
“You haven’t called me in a while,” Harry’s friend Mitch says as he sips his bourbon.
“I’ve been busy,” Harry mutters.
“Hmm…”
The two men sit in silence. It’s something they have always done. They are not ones to express their feelings unless they need to.
“What shit did you do now?” Mitch asks as he sees Harry pour his third cup of bourbon.
“Shit, Mitch. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Mitch gives him a pointed look, and Harry relents. “There’s this girl.”
“That’s a first.”
“As I was saying, she—she’s beautiful. And so god damn out of my league, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m fucking 33, and she has me acting like a teenager.”
“Ask her out, simple as that.”
Harry laughs bitterly. “No, Mitch, it isn’t. See, she asked me out, and I said no.”
Mitch winces, “ouch. Bruised her ego.”
“No, that's the thing. She acted unbothered and treated me with respect after.”
He knows he’ll regret that rejection for the rest of his life.
“What were you expecting? A drink in the face.”
He shakes his head, “course not.”
“Why is she a problem if you rejected her?” Mitch emphasizes.
“Because every time I see her, I feel my heart wanting to beat out of my chest. I see her speaking with another man too close, and I get jealous. Hell, I bet on an auction date with her, but I fucked it over by ignoring her the next time I saw her. And today, I was finally working up the chance to go out on a date to get her out of my head, and the person I asked out turned out to be her best friend, and she was right there.” Harry slumped back against his chair, bourbon now forgotten.
Mitch grimaces, “that doesn’t sound great.”
“It’s all shit.”
“Backtrack. Why did you reject her?”
Harry groans because he’d been a fool to say no. He thought he was too old for her or that she was looking for some fun in the sheets, and he wouldn’t disrespect her like that, not when he admired her. “She’s young.”
“Eighteen young?”
“No, you dick.” Harry spits out harshly.  “She’s in graduate school. She’s in her twenties.”
Mitch sits back on the couch, frowning.
“Spit it out.”
“It seems you made a mess of things for no reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Mitch takes a sip of his drink, getting all his thoughts together. “She asked you out, meaning you didn’t seek her out. If I recall, you said she knew your name.” Harry nods, and Mitch continues. “It means she was aware of your age difference. She had an idea of her chances being slim to none to you saying yes. She came in with the upper hand, but you carried the power with your response. You’re going about your feelings all wrong. If you’re not going to treat her like she knows she deserves, then leave her alone.”
Once Mitch had laid it all flat for Harry, he could see that Mitch had a point. She knew what she wanted from the moment they met, which intimated Harry for some reason. She sent him the drink, asked him out, and reached out while he hid and avoided. She held herself with grace and respect, and that somehow intimated him.
He wanted a chance with Y/N to prove to her he could be a gentleman, and he valued her time and respected her. He just had to find the right opportunity. His eyes flickered to the ripped invitation on his desk. An invitation to a Masquerade Ball in two weeks to support Global Warming. He knew who would be there. It was the perfect time to apologize and ask for a date, a real one this time.
+
Y/N hated being sick.
From a young age, she threw the biggest fuss when she would fall in and had to miss school. She told her parents that missing out on learning would ruin her life when she didn’t want her friends to forget her for the days she was gone. Given that when she would go back, she received big hugs; clearly, she was not forgotten.
Now, as an adult or graduate student living alone in her small but entirely her own apartment, she didn’t like to be sick, not when she had to work or had events to attend. Thankfully, Y/N’s work has always been flexible and has health benefits, so she can take the day off. The sad news is that there’s a gala, not one of hers this time, that she promised she’d attend with Sapra. The theme was masquerade, and Sapra had worked on her mask for ages wanting to stand out during the night, and Y/N couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Sapra had been looking forward to this night for ages, even writing it with a pen in her calendar, and she never did that in case plans changed. Y/N felt horrible, but thankfully Sapra was super understanding, and their good friend Dawn was able to come in and save the day. With the promise to send Y/N lots of pictures, they left her with soup and crackers to last her the next few days while she began to feel better.
Harry had been counting down the days to see her. He hoped he was able to spot her among all the people tonight because if not, he’d be asking every person in the room to remove their masks until he found her. He had decided on a gold mask with intricate black designs all around. His dear friend Alessandro took his time with it. He knew he’d take it back to his friend after it was too much of a delicate piece to keep for himself. He knew he would have no use for it after. His suit tonight was velvet, a deep black that held a shimmer in the right kind of lighting. Harry loved the little details in outfits, and he couldn’t wait to notice each one of Y/N’s tonight.
He must have walked around three times and nothing. Not a single citing of her. Harry decides to stop at the bar when a woman in a gorgeous red gown drops her mask, and Harry gasps. It was not Y/N; it was her best friend, Sapra. That meant Y/N had to be around here somewhere.
“Good evening, Sapra.” Harry interrupts her conversation with the short woman next to her. She’s in a yellow gown, one that reminds him of Kate Hudson’s in her iconic role in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He recognizes her as Bartolo’s worker in the shop. He hadn’t been there since Alessandro came back from his trip. “And Dawn, it’s nice to see you again.”
Dawn flashes him a smile. “You as well, Harry. Bartolo misses you. Says no one comes in to challenge him like you did.”
Harry nods, “I’ll have to visit soon, then.” Sapra elbows Dawn as if reminding her they weren’t team Harry. He notices, and before giving them a chance to make their exit, he asks the question that’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Where’s Y/N?”
Sapra and Dawn share a look before turning back to Harry, matching frowns on their faces. “Girl code, Mr. Styles,” Sapra tells him, voice full of distaste.
“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to speak with her,” he begs.
Dawn takes pity, having heard Harry bare his heart to Bartolo when he came in for a suit fitting about how nervous Y/N made him and that his confidence seemed to vanish around her. She thought it was a step in the right direction to ask them about Y/N despite his first meeting with Sapra.
“She’s sick,” Dawn shares, not caring that Sapra will give her shit for it later.
He frowns. She’s sick, and she’s alone. That doesn’t sound like a good evening. “Will she answer if I go?”
“You’re kidding?” Sapra asks.
Harry shakes his head, “please, I only came tonight in hopes of seeing her.”
Sapra turns around at the bar to speak with the bartender, and he gives her a napkin and a pen. She clicks the pen and turns around, handing it to Harry. He didn’t tell them he knew where she lived.
“She tells me you said something dumb, and I’ll make sure to burn your empire to the ground,” Sapra promises. Dawn whispers for her to cool it, but Harry understands where she’s coming from.
“Do you know when that restaurant closes down the block from her house? She told me she really likes their soup there.”
Sapra shared a look with Dawn. Yeah, it seemed that Harry had some feelings to sort through.
Harry takes a deep breath. He isn’t sure if she’ll let him in or even want to see him. If it were him, he’d take one look and slam the door shut. Well, he won’t know until he finds out. He knocks two times and takes a step back, allowing himself to look down at her doormat. There is a range of wildflowers displayed, and if Harry’s honest, he has no idea what their names could be. As Harry focuses on anything but the door, he fails to realize it has fallen open.
“Harry?” She whispers, confused.
Harry lifts his head, flashing her a smile. “Hi, how are you?”
She ignores his questions. “How are you here?” Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I bet it was Dawn; she’s a softie.”
“Do–Would it be okay if I came in?” He stutters.
Y/N tilts her head and looks his head to toe in his velvet suit, his mask forgotten in his car. She knows this is weird and has a right to kick him out, but he’s carrying a bag, and Y/N can smell the hot vegetable soup she craves when she’s sick.
She moves back, and Harry takes it as a sign to come in. He lets out a sign in relief. While Y/N locks the door, he toes off his shoes, noticing the shoe rack by the door. Y/N thanks him quietly, and he follows after like a lost puppy. She grabs two bowls while Harry begins to unpack the food. He wasn’t sure how much she would like, and Kim, the waitress, suggested two of their largest sizes, and he agreed.
Harry takes the bowl from Y/N and begins to serve her a healthy amount, knowing if she has too much, she could end up puking it all up.
“Thank you, Harry.”
She grabs her bowl and heads to her couch. As she settles in wrapping herself in a blanket, she sets the bowl on her lap. Harry stays frozen in the kitchen, unsure if he’s allowed in her space.
“Are you going to make me eat alone?”
“Sorry?” He breathes out.
“Serve yourself and come sit. You brought me so much soup I’m not going to finish it all on my own”
Harry grabs the second bowl, notices the strawberries, and laughs. He likes getting to see more pieces of Y/N. From her linked shoes at the door, he can tell she’s organized. As he walks further into her living room, he sees a full bookcase with hundreds of books and a little reading nook with a stack of books waiting to be read. He sits at the other end of her couch, sinking into the comfortable cushion; he smiles at her record player and wonders what she last listened to.
“Do you want a blanket?”
He sighs. Y/N’s a sweetheart treating him kindly, accepting him as a guest in her home. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
They settle into silence, and usually, Harry finds it annoying, always needing a conversation to be going even if he isn’t leading it. However, with Y/N, he relishes the silence because he enjoys her presence. No words are needed.
Y/N ate until she was full, meaning she left her bowl clean, not embarrassed to have Harry see her slurp the last bits of her soup. Harry refilled her water as he placed her rinsed dishes in her dishwasher.
“How was the gala?” She asks after he settles back in his seat.
“Awful,” he answers honestly. It was the truth, he knew Y/N prided herself in the work she did for each event, but he couldn’t lie to her.
Y/N frowns, “good means I didn’t miss anything important.”
He’s surprised she had no hand in the event, but if he thinks about it, each gala he has been in attendance of where Y/N has helped always went without a hitch. He can’t say the same about tonight. “You didn’t plan this event?”
She smiles at his shock. “Not this time. Sapra heard it was a masquerade ball and begged me to get her in. How were the ice sculptures?”
Harry laughs, “melting, a puddle of water all around.”
“Oh, bummer.” She shakes her head, upset she missed it. “They have awful AC in that building.”
Y/N proceeds to tell him about how they reached out, but she’s had a busy schedule, and as much as she loves her job, she’s still only an intern who needs time for her studies and herself.
“Is that why you fell sick? Overworking?” He asks, concerned.
She giggles, “no, I have a healthy work and life balance, thankfully.” Y/N’s phone rings interrupting her. She apologizes as she’s sending off a text before giving her attention back to him. “My neighbor Terry has a one-year-old, and I was babysitting her for the night. We didn’t know she had the sniffles until she woke up colicky from a nap. Turns out their bub was sick; thus, she gave me the bug that took me down.”
“How’s the bub doing?”
“Oh, she’s a fighter. She was not a big crier; she needed a few cuddles and medicine, and she was much better. The thing about babies: they get sick and are better the day after. Their bodies next time around will have now built a strong immune system able to fend it off even better.” Y/N feels her face flush, feeling she shared a bit too much.
Harry sends her a dimpled smile. “My little sister is having a baby in a few months. I think it’s essential to know how to help. Thank you, don’t think parenting books are always so helpful for uncles.”
Y/N can’t hide her grin at Harry’s confession. “Oh, that’s lovely, Harry. Send her my best. I have a link for the best stroller, and I mean the best. It's easy to fold even when she might be on her own. I’ll send it your way.”
Before Harry can thank her, a ding rings loud, and it’s his phone signaling, he’s received her message. “I appreciate it. It’ll make a good gift.”
Her eyes widened, seeing the stroller's price.  “Do you need a discount? I got lots of coupons for this website.” She offers.
Harry is surprised she offered. She must know he’s well off. A stroller that costs a few hundred bucks won’t make a dent in his bank account.
“Sent it anyway,” Y/N tells him. “It’s good for six months.”
“Thank you.”
Y/N grins, happy to be useful even when sick.
Harry takes in her tired eyes and knows he’s taken too much of her time. Instead of letting her rest, he made her stay up when she could have been sleeping.
“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome,” Harry stands up, offering her a sheepish grin.
“No–” she’s cut off by a yawn.
She laughs, rubbing her eye, trying to will the sleep away. “I’m sleepy when I’m sick.”
“Thank you for letting me in.”
“Thanks for the soup,” she counters.
Y/N walks him to the door, the blanket wrapped over her as she tries to keep herself warm. “Will you be alright alone?” He checks, not wanting to leave her alone if she gets worse while sleeping.
She notes his concern, and Y/N knows she can tell him it doesn’t concern him, but he did come out of his way to check on her. “Dawn promised she’s on her way here to give me cuddles. I'm a big baby when I’m sick. Get all clingy.”
Harry can imagine her lying on his chest, blankets up to her neck as he holds her close, rubbing her back. Warm tea and soup at hand to make sure she’s eating. He would love to care for her, but that would be crossing a line. Neither of them were ready for all because of Harry’s stupidity.
“Y/N, before I go, I wanted to apologize. I–It seems every interaction with you, I only seem to leave a bad impression. I genuinely think you’re an amazing person and felt lucky to take you on a date, but after ignoring you, I feel I keep messing everything up. Will–is it okay to call you my friend, or if we can take a step in that direction.”
She knows there’s no possible way they could be friends, not with the chemistry they have together, but Y/N appreciates where he’s coming from.
“Friends it is, Styles.”
“Friends,” he confirms.
And maybe something more.
+
It had been a month since Harry saw Y/N sick in her apartment. He texted her the morning after, and she promised she was doing better; her headache was gone. She teased him about the soup, saying it was the abundance of soup that cured her. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the fact that Y/N thought he was helpful. God, he was really head over heels for her, but they were friends. Friends that texted and sent photos of things that reminded them of each other (Harry was on the receiving end of most images. He did practice his use of emojis for her).
Y/N was going through exams and focusing on the internal work of her internship, as in paperwork and the hiring process to take her on after graduation. She let him know she was still considering her options, but Y/N knew she would be saying yes because the pay was well above what she went in asking for, and she had a healthy work environment. It made him happy to see how well things were going for her. It made him want to invite her to tour his office. He wanted to see her sit in his office chair as she looked at the view of the city.
Wake and Wonder were holding a gala to raise money for their new NICU ward. Harry was part of the board for this event and knew Y/N would be attending, having heard her name throughout the night from the guests. Over the last few months, Harry began to see the importance of these events and attending, most of the guests were snobby and stuck up, but every person working for their organization cared. They were working hard for others and not for their own gain. Harry might have it easy to write checks, so if he can give back, he will.
Tonight, Harry decided to be a bit bold. He left the velvet suit behind and wore a pink Alexander McQueen suit. A double-breasted jacket featured pink embroidered flowers with green stems and leaves down the front. He paired it with matching wide-leg trousers, a white button-down, and black boots. He felt confident in all his suits, but this one was special. It was the first suit he bought himself when he got his first client that would change his life. He knew it brought him luck, and he needed a bit of that tonight.
Every woman he encountered tonight had on a full-out gown. It seemed they were, for once, following the theme to a t. Harry was nursing an amaretto sour when a glimmer of yellow floated by in the corner of his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only one whose attention was caught. The person went straight to Alexander, the host for the night. He looked elegant in a black suit with gold embroidery around the jacket sleeves and down the front that connected to look like constellations. His partner wore something similar, opting for a deep blue to bring out his eyes, the gold embroidery found coming up his sleeves ending right below his elbows. Harry knew they had an eye for design and liked when they hosted events. The two men hugged her, thanking her. He didn’t realize he had gotten closer until he was able to pick up her voice.
It was angelic. It was familiar. It was Y/N.
She was wearing an elegant yellow satin gown. It had a princess silhouette with puffy short sleeves. He could see the corset back from the few feet away he stood. He knows Dawn must have had to help her, and for some reason, he can’t take the idea out of his head of helping her loosen the corset and out of the dress. It’s a fantasy he needs to push away as Y/N happens to be coming his way.
“Ms. Y/LN,” he greets with a gentle smile.
“Mr. Styles,” she flashes him a bashful grin and makes her way across the venue to mingle with the guest.
Progress. 
That was progress. She offered him a gorgeous smile, one he knew would stay imprinted in his mind forever. Now, all he needs is to gain some courage. Throughout the evening, Y/N danced around him. It’s as if she could sense him coming and would shift in another direction, allowing them both to get tangled in conversation. Harry did not like the chase, but Y/N held all the power in her hands, and he’d do anything for a moment of her time.
Harry was tired, not of Y/N playing a game of mouse with him but of the event. Usually, he spends an hour at most and then heads home, but tonight he’s two hours in, and he’s tired of all the talks and acting like he isn’t dying to speak with Y/N, but he respects her, and he’s been an idiot for too long to ruin the foundation they have created.
He was watching couples on the dance floor, criticizing their waltz. Many were lost in conversation to remember the importance of holding their partner close and letting one person lead.
“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greets with a cheeky grin. He doesn’t hide his surprise as he looks away from the dance floor. He takes her in, admiring her shining eyes and perfect makeup.
“Hi,” he breathes out. “You look beautiful.”
Y/N offers him another smile, a more timid one than her previous one. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to dance?” Harry offers, extending a hand toward Y/N.
She stares at him for a second before placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, his right-hand settling high under her shoulder, his fingers together and pointed down. Her left arm rests softly on his shoulder like a bird perched on a branch. Her hand arched, fingertips behind his shoulder and thumb in front. He feels the lightest touch. Y/N raises her head, meeting his eye as she places the palm of her right hand in the palm of his left, resting her fingers in the cradle between his thumb and forefinger. They both fold their things softly over each other. It’s a light touch, and Harry gets the sense that Y/N is well-versed in the waltz.
“Have you waltzed before, Y/N?” Harry asks as he begins to lead. It’s one of the easiest dances to learn but easy to get lost if a partner is not allowed to lead.
She scoffs, “Surprised?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I am intrigued.”
Y/N laughs, letting Harry lead her around the dance floor. “In undergrad, a few GEs are pointless.” Harry gives her a pointed look. “Come on, Harry. You know what I mean.” The truth is he does. “Anyways, I took a dance class and learned a choreographed dance, tap, salsa, and waltz. That’s only a few.”
Harry nods, impressed, “a woman of many trades, huh.”
She shakes her head because it’s useless talents, but they’re hers. Who knows when one day she might need them, like today, dancing with a handsome man.
“I love this song,” Y/N tells him as he brings her back from a spin. “Moon river makes you feel lost in time.”
Harry agrees, “thank you, Aubrey Hepburn.”
Y/N gasps in surprise, “you know Hepburn?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He teases.
She feels her face flush because he’s right, but Y/N grew up watching these films with her grandmother every Sunday. Some children got taken to church, and Y/N was taught about the best movies to ever exist growing up.
“What’s tonight's theme?” Harry asks Y/N, no longer wanting to dance in silence. He loves her voice.
“Disney, but more specifically, Disney princesses,” she answers with a soft smile.
“And you are?”
She gestures to her dress, the beautiful yellow silk. “Don’t know, Ariel.”
He throws his head back laughing, she teases him with no care, and he loves that he did deserve it. It’s clear what princess she was trying to resemble. “You’re a beauty. You put Belle to shame,” he confesses.
Y/N bites back a grin. “Seeing as she’s an animated character. Thank you.”
Harry’s smile drops, and he falters in his seat, causing Y/N to stumble, but he rights her up like nothing happened. “No, I mean–”
“I know,” she breathes out, giggling at his panic.
As Harry releases the anxiety that passes through him, he goes back to complimenting Y/N. “You fit the role nicely.”
“Does that make you Gaston, my Beast, or Lumiere?” Y/N asks with a smirk.
He doesn’t take the bait.  “Haha, very funny.”
She shrugs, “I try.”
The song is coming to a finish, and Harry wonders how long she’s going to allow him to dance with her. “I’m no prince, but I’d like to be the person who’s able to capture your heart,” he confesses, putting everything out there.
“You’re a poet now?’
Harry smirks, “you don’t take compliments, do you, beauty?”
“I'm not easily swooned,” she confesses.
“I like challenges,” he answers carelessly.
Harry feels her stiffen instantly and knows he’s messed up. In a matter of seconds, he managed to ruin this fun, peaceful energy he had with Y/N.”
“Mr. Styles,” her voice cold and distant. “Thank you for the dance.”
She drops her hands and walks away. Harry reacts quickly. He goes to reach for her but thinks otherwise and instead calls her name.
“No, Y/N, wait, please,” he begs.
She pauses, turning to look at him.
“I shit- you make me incredibly nervous, and I hate that.” She frowns but lets him continue. “You make me question my every thought. Your beauty is overwhelming, and I–I’m older than you. I know that, and the fear of you not liking that or someone saying anything rude to you has stopped me from allowing myself to pursue you. I apologize. I’m so damn sorry.”
“The pursuit ended the minute you said no to me,” she tells him honestly.
“But I-”
She holds her hand up, and he stops talking. “I respect you, Harry. But I also respect myself. I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I’m not taking any part. It was a wonderful dance, but I’ll be on my way.”
Harry knows she’s right. He’s messed up, but she deserves his honesty. “Y/N, let me say one last thing.”
She gestures for him to go on.
“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t, but would you go on a date with me? No pretense or auction, just you and me where I can get to know you. I’d really love to get to know you.” He asks, putting his heart on the line.
She looks down at her heels, swaying back and forth, and the silence lasts a few seconds, but Harry feels it’s been hours by the time she replies. “Okay,” she agrees.”
“I respect–you will?” He asks, surprised.
She giggles, “I’d love to see you when you’re being charming because, truthfully, as much as I've been enjoying awkward Harry, I’d love to see more. You have my number, and it’s your only chance.”
Harry places his hand over his heart. “I promise I’ll treat you well. Thank you for saying yes.”
Y/N smiles, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Styles.”
He couldn’t wait to see her for their date.
+
This was his third time standing outside Y/N’s apartment door. This time was different. He felt he could throw up from the nerves. He spoke with his Mum before driving to Y/N’s apartment and shared how he felt nervous about a date. She reminded him he needed to be himself and wear his confidence with pride. It’s something he learned from a young age.
Growing up, he had crazy curls that led to endless teasing, and one day he decided he had enough and got a haircut. He looked in the mirror the following day and didn’t recognize who he was. He let himself be influenced by others, and since then, he decided he wouldn’t care what others said about him. While in uni, he grew out his hair going through the long hair phase that drove his Mum crazy, but his sister loved it as he allowed her to braid it. It’s also when he began getting all his tattoos. Harry had to go through a journey of self-discovery to gain his confidence and keep it.
Tonight, he had confidence, but his biggest worry was Y/N not enjoying the date. All he wants is for her to have a pleasant time with him with no ruse or promise of a check at the end of the night.
Harry knocks twice and waits for her to come to the door. There’s a bouquet of pink roses in his hands because it reminded him of Y/N. He doesn’t know her favorite, but he’ll be sure to ask tonight. Y/N opens the door dressed in what he assumes is her casual wear. She’s got loose jeans and a black button-up she kept open with a white top under. A white ribbon in her hair made her messy bun look perfect. He notices this is another time he sees ribbon in her hair, and he’s curious to see how many strings she has and how many colors. She’s beautiful, and he’d happily remind her every chance he gets tonight.
“Hi, Y/N, you look beautiful.”
Y/N smiles, accepting the flowers he is offering her. The pink roses are beautiful as if there were just cut from the garden. She gestures for him to come in as she grabs a vase from her kitchen. He’s quiet as he watches her work in her kitchen. Once satisfied with how they sit in the vase, she turns her attention back to him.
“Thank you, Harry. It was very sweet of you.”
Harry shrugs, a blush setting on his cheeks. “Anything for you, beauty.”
Y/N’s back is turned to him, not allowing him to see her reaction to the term of endearment. As she grabs her bag and slips it on her shoulder, she offers him a squeeze on his arm, and he takes that as an okay to keep using it. As she’s locking up her door, Harry waits and asks about her day. She shares about having an easy day of classes and how she’s glad she didn’t have to work. Harry opens his car door and helps Y/N into the car. Y/N can see what he means by charming now.
The drive is filled with aimless chatter about the songs Harry is playing and how nice the weather has been lately. Y/N notices they’re headed toward a residential area and not into the city. Harry decides to share what he has planned for them tonight.
“I was thinking we can have a wine and paint night in my backyard if you're up for it.” He runs his free hand through his hair, sparing a look at her before focusing back on the road.
“You want to paint?” She exclaims.
He shrugs, “thought it’d be fun.”
She leans back into her seat, keeping her eyes on Harry as he holds a tight grip on the steering wheel. “I think it sounds perfect.”
Harry sighs in relief, good that’s good.
Arriving at Harry’s house, he feels his nerves coming back because he’s bringing the woman he likes to the place he calls home, where he finds comfort. It’s where he comes back home after a long day of work. He doesn’t know what he’ll feel after seeing her among all his things because he’s sure she’ll be a perfect fit and will struggle to let her go.
Y/N takes in the art pieces he has around the entrance of his house and photos of his family. The credenza by the entrance holds a key bowl where Harry drops his wallet and keys inside. He doesn’t remove his shoes and instead goes through the kitchen's double doors. Y/N isn’t sure if she is supposed to follow him, but a book on his coffee table captures her attention. It’s titled Raising Good Humans. She reads the first page as Harry makes his way back to her with two glasses of wine, one red and one orange.
She places the book down when Harry offers her a choice, and she accepts the orange wine, curious how it might taste. He gestures to the book, “I bought it for my sister, but I realized she probably won’t want to read it all, so I’m highlighting and bookmarking the important sections.”
Y/N hums in surprise. She didn’t take Harry for a caring guy, but here he is, proving her wrong. It’s clear how much he loves his family. “I’m sure she appreciates all the help.”
Harry laughs, “she told me she’s waiting to cash in for all the times I ever embarrassed her.”
“Oh, I understand being the youngest with an older brother. I swear he lived to embarrass me.” She shares that as much as she loved Matias, he was still a pain in her butt at one point in her life.
“Someone needed to look out for her,” he offers. “Come on, it’s out this way.”
His kitchen is gorgeous. The kitchen has color-filled floral wallpaper. There are pops of colors, making the backdrop feel neutral. The cabinets are maroon, closer to pink than red, and the three chairs are muted cyan that sit against the countertop. Y/N can see herself taking a seat there as Harry cooks them dinner. She shakes the thought out of her head and heads out the French patio doors where two easels sit side by side, a small stand in between them to hold their glass of wine and cheese that Harry has set up for them.
“I’m lactose intolerant,” she shares as she eyes the cheese.
Harry’s eyes widen in surprise, and he mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me not even asking what you would prefer. I have cookies if you’d like. They’re gluten-free though or–”
He cuts himself off when he sees her laughing behind her wine glass, and that’s when he realizes she’s joking. Harry shakes his head, their laughter mixing together in the air.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters.
“You’re cheeky, beauty.”
Y/N sets her finished wine glass down as she sees a black canvas apron with her name embroidered resting on what she assumes is her chair. She lifts it gently, running her finger over the yellow stitching. Harry slips his one, his last name embroidered on his, and she knows these must have been specially ordered. The material feels expensive and as if it were made with great care.
“Harry, this is too much.”
He laughs, “it’s nothing, Y/N. I wanted tonight to be special.”
She slips the top over her head and turns away from her, “can you help me tie the back?”
Harry steps close, standing right behind her, his mouth right by her neck. Y/N feels tense at the close intimacy. She doesn’t hurry Harry; she simply enjoys the closeness he’s offering her.
“All done,” he whispers.
She turns to meet his gaze, his eyes lingering before flickering to her lips. He nods, taking a step back, not wanting to cross any lines with her. He’s letting her set their pace.
“More wine, Beauty?”
“Yes, please. It was so good. It tasted just like an orange.”
Harry knows her lips must taste just as sweet. “It’s a favorite of mine. Glad you like it.”
He fills their wine glasses and comes back to sit next to her. He explains all the materials he has for them and how the painting to recreate is a lighthouse with a night sky background. It looks complex, and Y/N knows if she tries to copy it, it will look nothing like the original.
They began painting in silence. Harry had instrumental music playing and told her she could play what she liked, but she assured him she was enjoying the music. The silence was soon filled with chatter as Y/N asked questions, and Harry happily responded. What jobs did he work growing up? Bakery and a bookstore. If he was a good swimmer? Yes. His worst hangover? His best friend Mitch’s bachelor party in Greece. What he liked to bake? Cherry tarts. The questions never seemed to end because she wanted to know everything, but Harry was the same. He asked about her travels and where she wanted to go in the next year? Amsterdam. Her favorite movie? Pride and Prejudice. Her favorite book? A Thousand Splendid Suns.
Y/N was learning a lot about Harry and wanted to soak it all in, not forgetting anything. The first time she met Harry, she thought he was closed off and stuck up. That he had walls up so high, he’d never let anyone in, but Harry today was charming and kind. He gave her his undivided attention and asked questions wanting to get to know her. Harry was closed off because of his high position and how easily people had walked over him. Y/N had always worn her heart on her sleeve, but tonight with Harry, she wanted to keep it protected, but he made it so easy to give herself away.
“Are you ready, beauty?”
She takes a long look at her finished painting and decides she has no other choice. “Ready,” she breathed out.
Harry and Y/N turn their painting to each other, and Y/N gasps at Harry’s beautiful painting while Harry laughs at hers. Harry managed to draw a perfect resemblance of the lighthouse with the moon shining bright and the water so reflective that she felt if she touched it, her hand would go through the painting. “That’s gorgeous, Harry.”
Harry pointed to Y/N, “what did you draw?”
Y/N pouts, looking down at her painting. It might not be a lighthouse, but she loved what she painted. It’s a mermaid with short brown hair and a flower on their head. The scales of the mermaid’s tail were various shades of yellow, green, and blue. The mermaid was looking away into the deep blue sea background. It was nowhere near perfect, but she loved it. “It’s you,” she tells him. “As a mermaid–or well, merman.”
He points to himself, “that’s me!”
She giggles, proud of herself. “Yes, how I picture you if you were born a mermaid. I reckon you’d be the heir to the throne.”
Harry blushes and knows Y/N can tell. He doesn’t mind because she deserves to see the effect she has on him.
“I think I’d be a good-looking mermaid.”
“You'd be the prettiest mermaid in the sea, no competition.”
Harry giggles, letting the compliment soak in. “If you were there, I imagine I’d have a run for my money, beauty.”
She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Harry,” she drags out his name, turning away from him, her smile wide. His dimples pop out as he holds back from teasing her and instead asks if she’s hungry.
“I’d love some pizza,” she tells him honestly.
“Then I’ll get you pizza, beauty. Any preferences for toppings?”
“Love jalapeños.”
“Is pepperoni and jalapeños alright?”
“Perfect, Harry. Thank you.” She leans in to give him a kiss on his cheek. Harry mumbles no worries, his face burning from the sign of affection.
Dinner was delicious, and pizza was the perfect meal to share. Harry wrapped the leftovers and slipped them into a paper bag for Y/N to take home. She argued he should keep it because he paid (she offered, but he refused), but he told her that he remembered life during university, and she couldn’t argue with that logic. Harry drove her home, promising he only had that original cup of wine, and then switched to sparkling water. While Y/N allowed herself to have three glasses, two during the painting session and one during dinner. The drive to her apartment was different than driving to his house. They went from quiet small talk and listening to Harry’s playlists to telling each other their favorite childhood stories.
By the time Harry pulled up to Y/N’s apartment, she had realized that more dates like this with Harry would make her fall deep in love with him. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but a second date sounded perfect. Harry opened her car door and walked her to her door. He handed Y/N her bag and the leftover pizza after she unlocked the door, and she placed the items on her small entrance table. She shut the door, turning to look at Harry and bid him good night. Y/N realized through the night, Harry was careful with his touches and would only reciprocate anything she initiated.
Harry stares at her with a dimpled smile, and she knows that smile will become her weakness.
“My favorite flowers are calla lilies,” she tells him as she leans against her apartment door.
Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Does that mean she enjoyed tonight as much as he did? “Does that mean we’re going on a second date?”
She smirks, “I’d be open to the idea.”
He steps towards Y/N, allowing her to stop him, but she doesn’t. Her hands come to rest on his chest. He’s thankful she doesn’t mention the quickening of his heartbeat.
“Is this okay?” He breathes out.
“Mhm…”
Y/N’s hands fist the ends of his open jacket. He doesn’t care if his jacket wrinkles. He only cares that she wants him closer.
Harry leans his head down, his nose brushing against hers. Y/N pulls him closer, desperate to close the gap between them.
“Beauty,” he whispers.
“You can kiss me.” She tells him, “I want you to kiss me.”
She stands on her tiptoes, her hand curling around the back of his neck. His skin is warm, and I grab the hair at the nape and pull him toward me. Y/N knew she would end the night kissing him when he showed up with pink roses at her front door, calling her Beauty.
His hands came up to her cheeks, his mouth eager as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming, she knew kissing Harry would be like no other, but this was everything. He was gentle but firm and in control of the kiss. He knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her. He tasted of cherries, his lip balm he told her he carried everywhere, never one for dried lips. It paid off because his soft lips were addictive, and after getting a taste, she didn't know how long she’d be able to go without him.
“You taste sweet, beauty,” he confessed, pulling back, giving her a dimpled smile when he saw the dazed look on her face.
“You can have another taste.”
Harry giggles, “if I knew a kiss would make you so kind, I’d have kissed you sooner,” he teased.
“You can keep kissing me now,” she offered.
Harry was tempted to say yes, to keep kissing her out here as the moon shined down on them, but he knew he’d see her soon. He’d make sure of it.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to plan out our next date.”
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. “Goodnight, Harry.”
“Sweet dreams, beauty.”
Harry kissed her one last time, then broke away. She leaned against the door frame as she watched him walk towards his car, turning to wave at her one last time before driving away.
Yeah, Y/N was excited to see Harry again.
+
After their date, Harry spent every free moment he had with Y/N. Their second date consisted of bowling and wings. Y/N had managed to win by a landslide. Harry complained how it wasn’t fair and to make up for Harry being a sore loser Y/N was happy to indulge him in kisses. It seemed Harry was a winner after all. Harry promised her he wanted to keep seeing her, and Y/N repeated the sentiment.
It seemed from then, their time together grew. Harry would visit Y/N during her lunch on the days she was at work and grabbed dinner most nights after her internships. Harry would pick Y/N up from campus and ask her what she was in the mood for. The answer was almost always ice cream which he was happy to indulge her with.
Sunday, he came to learn were grocery days for Y/N, and after he paid for her the first time he went, he got banned from accompanying her again, which led to Harry sending her groceries every other week. She couldn’t get mad because, without fail, her bouquet of calla lilies would arrive soon after. Y/N had never felt affection this way, and after a talk with Harry, he expressed it was his love language and quality time. He thought he was overwhelming her and promised he’d do better, and it broke her heart for Harry to believe she was anything but appreciative. After talking, she allowed him to surprise her with small gifts, but nothing out of the ordinary because if he showed up with a diamond necklace, she would be breaking up with him.
“Does that mean we’re dating Beauty?”
She rolls her eyes, “unless you don’t want to.”
He clicks his tongue at her response, “now, don’t be mean, baby.”
Y/N seemed to always fall for his term of endearment; something about his accent got her going crazy. “Yes, Harry, we’re dating.”
Harry smirks, liking the thought of being Y/N’s. Their time from then on increased. From coffee dates to morning walks on the weekends and late-night phone calls when Y/N couldn’t sleep and would ask Harry to keep her company. It seemed to happen during the middle of the week, and he’d wake up tired the next day for work, but Y/N was worth it. She apologized every time she called and sounded like she woke him up, but he’d ask Y/N to tell him about her thesis, and she’d settled down as he listened intently and asked her questions when it was allowed.
On weekends Harry would come over to Y/N’s and spend the evening making dinner together, watching TV shows Harry has never heard of, and Y/N promised he needed to watch because he was missing out. Truthfully, he watched to indulge her but came to look forward to their time watching New Girl together. Their evenings started with them sitting next to each other, then her arm resting on his thigh and his arm over her shoulder. He realized Y/N was a big cuddler, always wanting Harry to hold her and be the little spoon. He didn’t mind loving how snug she felt against him. She started falling asleep halfway through the episodes, laughing when Y/N mumbled a reply to the show. Over time, they’d go from cuddling to Y/N sitting in his lap kissing, ignoring whatever was on TV. Their hands explored everywhere above clothing. They rocked against each other, but they’d always stop before taking it a step further, and Harry respected Y/N too much to cross a line she wasn’t ready for with him.
Harry was happy to have her kisses.
Y/N, at this point, had talked so much about her thesis that Harry could understand from a certain perspective what she was writing about and allowed him to read over his thesis and make any annotations for her to fix, grammatically, of course. Harry was honestly very proud of her; it was clear how much work and dedication she had put into her thesis, and he knew she'd do it with ease when it was time to defend it.
“You’re my smart girl, huh. Going to run the world.”
Y/N would hide her face in his chest when he began with the compliments, easily getting overwhelmed. It seemed that dating Harry had brought her happiness she never saw coming.
It was odd if they spent time at Harry’s house. It was more convenient for them to spend time at Y/N’s. Harry didn’t mind because he loved being surrounded in a space that was all hers. Tonight, Harry took Y/N to a sushi restaurant for dinner, and instead of driving her back home, she promised it was still early enough to go to his house and watch a movie. She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet pout, and he found himself saying yes. He can’t remember a time she allowed him to say no, not that he would ever want to.
Harry played a documentary he had wanted to watch, and Y/N promised she’d stay awake and that the coffee she had earlier in the day would help. Although he doubted it because her coffees seemed to always be on the sweeter side. It was half an hour in that he heard her soft breathing. He knew she would be sleeping until the end of the documentary. Harry was happy to have her cuddled to his chest, that she was comfortable enough to fall asleep. It was close to two hours later that the documentary ended, and Harry looked at the time and realized how late it was and that he still had to drive Y/N home.
“Baby, wake up.”
Nothing. He tried again.
“Beauty, come on. Got to get you home.”
She groaned, burying her face deep in his neck, not bothering to pick her head up.
“Come on, it’s late, baby.”
She raised her hand to her mouth, covering her yawn as she began to sit up.
“Hi,” he cooed softly. “I’ll give you a minute, then we can head out.”
Y/N shook her head, “can I stay?” she whispered.
Harry couldn’t hide his surprise at her request. “You want to stay here?”
“Please, lovie?” Her eyes were filled with sleep, and he wanted her to stay; of course, he did. Tomorrow was Sunday, and the fact that he had the chance to wake up to her tomorrow would not be something he passed up.
“Of course, baby.” Harry lifts his hand to cradle her cheek. She turns her head to kiss his palm; he feels himself melt at her affection.
He helps Y/N to her feet and guides her up the steps to his bedroom. She walks in and sits on his bed as he finds her clothes.
“There’s face wash, a spare toothbrush, and towels in the bathroom for you to use,” he tells her as he hands her an oversized shirt and spare boxers. She thanks him silently as she drags herself to his bathroom. As Y/N gets herself ready for bed, Harry does the same. He washed his bedsheets two nights before and knows it’ll be okay for Y/N to sleep in. As Harry slipped out of his button-up and pants, he wore shorts and an old Stevie Nicks shirt, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable.
She walks out a few minutes later, clothes in her hand, his oversized company t-shirt on her frame with nothing else. He’s quick to avert his gaze, surprised to see her only half-dressed.
“Were the boxers not okay?”
“Don’t want them to sleep. Is that okay?”
He nods “ of course, come on, let me tuck you in.”
Y/N drops her clothes by his window nook. Harry has imagined Y/N in his room more times than he counts but now that he has her here, he knows he’s never going to get the image out of his head. She gets under the covers and sighs when the cool sheets hit her skin. She scoots all the way to the middle of the bed. Harry checks to see if she’s comfortable and is about to turn the lights off and leave when she calls his name.
“Where you going?” Y/N asks, concern in her voice.
“To the guest room.”
“You don’t want to sleep with me?”
Harry’s heart feels heavy in his chest, seeing that he has upset her. “I didn’t want to assume,” he tells her honestly.
“Come, sleep with me.” She extends her hand to him, and he’s happy to accept. Harry throws the cover away and drags himself right next to Y/N, placing his hand on her waist and bringing her closer. She turns to rest her head on his chest, using him as a pillow.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
“Perfect.”
Harry closes his eyes but feels Y/N move. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Kiss, please?”
If he wasn’t careful, he’s sure he’d fall in love with Y/N, but something tells him it’s a little late for that. He leans down and presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. She hums in appreciation, letting him pull away without a fight giving her a final kiss on her forehead. Now they can both sleep content. As Y/N settles back down on his chest, about to close her eyes, a painting on Harry’s wall captures her attention. It’s hanging next to a photo of a lake in his hometown. It’s a mermaid painting, specifically the one she painted with Harry on their first date two months ago. She told him to keep it, but she didn’t think he’d actually hold on to it, let alone hang it up for him to see every day he wakes up. Y/N sighs against his chest, snuggling closer to him, feeling content to fall asleep in Harry’s arms, knowing she’ll be safe and cared for because Harry never fails to shower her in love and affection.
She can’t wait to make breakfast with him tomorrow, but for now, she’ll sleep.
+
Harry regretted inviting Y/N to the golf tournament. Pleasing hosts this golf event annually for new and old partners. He hadn’t prepared for how good she would look dressed in an active pink skirt and a white polo tank that hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was up and out of her face, and she had a pink visor on her head to prevent sunburn. She looked prepared for a game of golf, where she promised she wouldn’t play besides chatting up the investors. He was clearly in over his head. Harry had taken one look at her when he picked her up and asked her if she wanted to stay home with him instead. She laughed, hopping into his car, reminding him he had promised her breakfast and she was craving a bagel.
“Beauty?”
“Hmm…” She turned to look at Harry with a beautiful smile on her face, just for him.
He reaches over and brings her in for a kiss. He sighs against her mouth, happy to have her here with him. As much as he loves his company, he only does this to make more connections and keep his company growing.
“If you get tired or hungry, just let me know, and we can take a break.”
She shakes her head, “this is important for you,” she reminds him. “I’ll be fine. Plus, you fed me and filled my water bottle.” She rubs her tummy to show him how full she still is.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my priority.” He assures her.
Y/N scrunches her nose, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You’re an absolute sweetheart, lovie.”
Harry hurries out of the car to help Y/N out, earning him another kiss, he’s tempted to push her up against his car and keep kissing her, but Y/N seems eager to see him golf. He checks them in and gets the keys to his golf cart as she waits on the side, looking at the clean facilities. She overhears the receptionist telling Harry they’ll start at hole one on the east side, and his guest will be sent that way.
She trailed behind Harry taking in the lovely view in front of her. His outfit was anything but ordinary. He wore pastel yellow flared pants that hugged his ass just right. A black polo tucked in and a simple Gucci belt completes his look. He decided against a hat but had his glove ready on his left hand for that extra support. Y/N loved the contrast of his tattoos and how his tan skin seemed to shine due to the sunblock she helped lather him in. He almost always has hidden his tattoos, wearing a suit and sweater. She knew it was because of work, and he was easily cold, but she never took moments like these for granted. The contrast of tattoos on his arms while his left hand had endless tattoos, his right hand only a few. She had to wonder what he hid underneath. She had only ever seen the peek of two swallows on his chest.
“Beauty, you alright?” Harry is standing against a golf cart numbered thirteen. It’s been known to be an unlucky number, but she’s never seen it that way.
She shakes away her thoughts and focuses on the man in front of her. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart since the moment they started officially dating a few months ago, and she’s thankful she decided to give him a chance and that he proved to be a good person and not the cold man she met many moons ago,
“Sorry, I was just admiring. Haven’t been to the golf course in some time.” She takes his extended hand and slides into the golf cart, his hand settling on her bare, exposed thigh. A shiver runs up her spine. She’s ready to take it to the next level with Harry but has no idea how to bring it up.
Harry and Y/N don’t have to wait long when a group of men and a few women come and greet Harry. There is a mix of young and older individuals chatting, and Y/N right away spots the man who keeps to himself, much like Harry. He’s an older gentleman dressed in black slacks, a maroon vest, black gloves on both hands, and a frown on his face. Harry introduces her to Jeff, Niall, and Tyler, his good friends. He promised her if she needed anything, she could ask them. They were all welcoming, asking her questions, not a lot of teasing, but they assured Y/N that Harry wasn’t the grump he made himself out to be.
During the first few holes, a lot of conversation was happening, and Y/N sat in the golf cart because she didn’t know how she fit into this crowd. She was a graduate student among these men and a few women who run these million-dollar companies. She hated that Harry felt obligated to bring her because it was their date night, and he didn’t want to cancel their plans. He convinced her when he told her he’d miss her too much if he didn’t see her this weekend.
Harry, after every swing, turns to find Y/N, who’s already looking at him. He came over, and she’d kiss him, telling him how impressive the swing was and that she knew he would win. Slowly, Y/N began to let herself mingle and talk with the other players. She seemed to always gravitate back towards Harry and his small group.
Y/N was standing, arms crossed, visor lowered as the sun beamed down on her. There was a lot of chatter when she realized that the man with the vest who caught her eye was alone again; she decided to approach him as Harry was wrapped up in conversation.
“Hi,” she greets. “I’m Y/N.”
The tall man with eyes as blue as the ocean turns to look at her. He looks at her stretched hand and reaches out to shake hers. “Malcolm Levington. A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”
“You as well, Mr. Levington.”
He grimaces, “Malcolm is fine.”
She shrugs, “if you say so.” Before he can ask what she’s doing speaking with him, she asks a question. “What is it you do?”
“I’m the owner of Star Horizons,” he shares.
“The hotels,” Y/N gasps.
He laughs, “the very one.”
“Oh, your hotel ballrooms are hard to get a hold of. I’ve been trying to plan an event there for ages. It finally happened a few months back, but it hurt to be told the wait was so long.”
Mr. Levington frowns, “what event was it?”
“Oh, uh, we had a private action event for Hermanas Unidas. They wanted to raise money to open a second location. We exceeded expectations thanks to generous donations and hired full-time staff to get it up and running in two months.”
“That’s wonderful. I heard about this event; it was one of the smoothest experiences we have ever had. We had no problems with staff or guests. We got a lot of guests to come back and stay with us. Were you in charge?”
She grins proudly, “no, I work with the sub-events teams. It’s part of my job to help nonprofits with their events to get donations.”
“Impressive work. Would you care to tell me more?”
Y/N happily indulges Mr. Levington as he tells her about the degree she is working towards. She shares about each event she has worked on. He offers ideas on how to help and ideas for new events. He promises to attend her next event.
“Y/N?” Harry calls her name, interrupting their conversation.
“Harry, I was speaking with Mr. Levington,” Y/N tells Harry, holding onto his forearm and giving it a loving squeeze.  
Mr. Levington looks between Y/N and Harry, a curious look on his face. “Are you his wife?”
“Oh, he’d be so lucky,” Y/N tells Mr. Levington, a loyal partner to Pleasing. She found out a mere seconds ago as Harry whispered it in her ear.
Harry laughs, “Y/N’s my–”
Y/N rolls her eyes. These men don’t need to know about her and Harry, not that she’d mind him showing her off. “Enough about me. Tell me about that TaylorMade Stealth PLus Driver you have there. I hear it has low spin.” She points to the clubs a few feet behind them.
“You golf, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Levington asks, surprised.
Y/N leads the man away, turning to look at Harry, offering him a wink as the man tells her about his clubs.
They’re about to head to the next hole when he sees Y/N still chatting. The man held on to her every word.
“Now I hear the Sims 2 has a better grip as it’s more lightweight. But don’t take my word for it, I haven’t had the chance to swing it, but from what I’ve heard Harry and Mr. Rowland discuss, I’d say you ask him for a chance to swing, but I do know how you all are about your clubs.” She tells him, knowing she is setting up Harry for an interesting conversation.
“Y/N,” Harry calls for her once again. She turns to see him with a bright smile on her face. “We’re ready for the next hole. Y/N loves to chat, Mr. Levington”.
“She’s a dear. She was telling me about your driver. Seems she thinks mine has a problem.”
“Now, now, don’t go twisting my words,” Y/N chastises.
“Only teasing, Ms. Y/N.” Mr. Levington turns his attention back to Harry. “Think you’ll let me take a swing, Mr. Styles?” Mr. Levington asks.
Harry offers him a sincere smile. “We can work something out.”
“A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”
Harry stands with a hand on her waist as they watch him walk away. “What did you do, you little minx?”
“What do you mean?” She feigns innocence.
“That man,” he gestures to Mr. Levington, walking next to Jeff with their caddy. “Always comes to our events and never says a word. Here you have him yapping on and on about clubs you probably don’t care about.”
“You’re right. I don’t,” she confirms.
“Then, beauty? You don’t have to be flattering all these old men.” He tells her honestly.
“Jealous, H?” Y/N teases, stepping closer to him, her hand resting on the back of his neck.
Harry hums at her touch. “Course I am. Prettiest girl here on the green don’t want to share you with anyone.”
She leans on her tiptoes, pressing a quick peck on his lips. “Promise I’m enjoying myself.”
“Will you still ride with me?” He asks her, as he hadn’t helped her onto the golf cart after each hole.
“Am I driving?” She waits expectantly.
He offers her the keys, which she snatches up before he can even think of pulling his hand away. “Now, now. Give me a proper kiss, and we’ll go.”
She doesn't even fight him, simply leans in and kisses him. Harry hums at her sweet cherry taste. He knows she must have stopped the cart girl and asked for a Shirley Temple with extra cherries, her favorite.
“Come on, Harry. I want to see you flex those muscles as you swing that club around.”
She skips towards his golf cart labeled thirteen. He sees her skirt bounce, and he groans. He takes a moment to remind himself to breathe. He could do this for a few more hours. He might lose his mind by the end of the evening, but he would endure it.
Safe to say, by the time they reached the last hole, Y/N had all of these men eating out of her hand. Each person listens as she tells another story.
“She’s a good one,” Mr. Levington tells Harry as Y/N tells the others about the time she went to a museum, and security gave her a private tour because she resembled a famous artist. “Never seen anyone so charming. Surprised she picked someone as sour as you.”
“Hmm…clearly, her magic worked on you. Can’t remember the last time you spoke to anyone besides your clubs,” Harry answers honestly, knowing he is lucky to have Y/N.
Mr. Levington chuckles. “Touche Styles. Keep her around. She's good for business and you, it seems. That facade has dropped.”
“Yeah, she’s one of a kind.”
“H,” Y/N yells, “Come tell them about the penguin. How he’d follow my every move.”
“Seems you’re wanted, Styles.”
They bid each other goodbye, and he makes his way over to Y/N. Harry doesn't think twice before taking her outstretched hand, launching into the story of how both penguin and Y/N had been amused with each other.
By the time they get home, Y/N’s exhausted. She wasted all her energy conversing with everyone and now needs to re-energize. Harry stopped by and got them burgers on their way to his house. They were quick to devour in the parking lot.
“Can I stay here?” Y/N asks as she throws herself on his couch, landing face down.
“Don’t want to go home, baby?” He slips off her shoes, giving her calf a squeeze.
She lifts her head searching for him. “If it’s okay. You got that nice bath I want to soak in, please.”
He walks over to her, planting a kiss on her head. “Course you can, beauty. I’ll go set it up for you.”
The bath is the perfect temperature as Y/N sinks in, sighing as her body relaxes. She apologized to Harry because she knew he was the one who must be exhausted from a long game of golf, but he was quick to assure her that it made him happy to take care of her. There was an abundance of bubbles around the tub, so she called Harry back into the room. She wanted him to keep her company.
Harry sat down at the edge of the tub, a bowl of strawberries in hand that he knew Y/N would be happy to eat. He offered her one, and she took a big bite humming at the sweet flavor filling her mouth.
“Yummy,” she giggles.
Harry thumbs away the bit of juice running down her chin; he brings his thumb up to his mouth and licks it clean, “yummy, indeed.”
Y/N feels her face flush and wants to sink underwater but keeps her gaze on Harry. She’s naked in his tub and wants him to touch her. She just has to let him know.
“Another, baby?”
She shakes her head no.
He frowns but doesn’t fight her; instead places the strawberries on the counter. He settles back down until Y/N gestures for him to come closer. He smirks but does as she asks. He leans in close until they’re nose to nose, and she presses her lips against his. She moans as Harry slips a hand in her hair; he pulls back as Y/N looks up at him, dazed. She follows him, but he doesn’t let her kiss him. Y/N whines for him to come back.
“What do you want, beauty?”
Y/N pouts. She doesn’t want to say it. Isn’t it clear what she wants?
“Harry,” she whines.
“Need you to say it, Y/N. Not a mind reader.”
Y/N sighs because he’s right. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his thigh through his pants. “I want you to touch me,” she breathes out. She lifts her head, meeting his gaze. “I want you to touch me, please.”
Harry runs his hand down her neck, following a water droplet until he reaches the top of her breasts. “Is this okay?” His finger skims along the top, and Y/N wants more. She needs more.
“Yes,” she huffs, eager for his touch.
His hand sinks into the water, caressing her breasts, and she leans into his touch, moaning as he gets to know her body more intimately. He shifts position to kneel next to the tub, his hand pinching her nipples until she hisses from the contact. His lips settled on her neck as he bites down in different spots. It’s all so much, but Y/N is loving every second. His hand dances over her until Y/N has enough and directs him to where she needs him. His fingers glide over her steadily, whispering touch that works her into a frenzy, filling her with need. His mouth drifts down her jaw to the delicate space behind her ear. He swipes his tongue across her skin before blowing cool air, and a shiver wracks her body.
“Harry,” she whispers.
He finds her clit, rubbing his thumb back and forth in circles as he gives her the pleasure she’s been searching for. She loses her train of thought as he curls one finger inside her and rubs her in all the right places, bringing her closer to the edge faster than she thought possible. Her orgasm is fast and blinding. She grips the tub’s edge so hard that her hand aches, but Harry doesn’t stop.
“One more,” he whispers, his mouth tangling with hers in a hot kiss as they battle for control.
She shakes her head, “c-can’t.” She doesn’t think she’s ever orgasmed back to back with a partner in bed. She orgasms just fine, she can admit she’s had shit partners in bed before, but no one has ever treated her with so much care and passion as Harry.
“Oh fuck,” she yells as Harry wipes away the bubbles uncovering her breasts. He moves away from her lips, not caring that there’s water spilling over the edge as he drags his tongue over each pebbled tip promising Y/N next time, he’ll focus more attention on them.
Each touch Harry gives her is magic. She loves how in control he is of her body as he works to provide her with what she needs. His thumb moves quicker over her clit, two fingers moving in and out of her slick, making it easier for him. Y/N’s body gives in to Harry, and she knows she’s close once again. Y/N throws her wet arms around his neck because she needs him close. She feels herself tip over the edge. Breathless and satisfied.
“Gorgeous,” he mutters against her soft neck. “My beauty was gorgeous.” Each word is followed by a kiss.
Y/N feels heavy but relaxed as he holds her close to her breasts against his soft polo.  “H,” she manages to breathe out.
“Alright, baby?”
“Magic,” she giggles, her chest heaving as she leans back into the water, trying to catch her breath.
Harry laughs as he carefully separates from Y/N to reach for a towel from his towel warmer. She notices the towel and perks up, only now realizing how cold the water has run.
“If an orgasm is all you needed to be, my good girl, I would have begged to give you one sooner,” he tells her teasingly. Y/N whimpers at his words, leaning into his touch as he helps her out of the tub, still a gentleman as he averts his gaze. “Let’s get you in some clothes and then to bed.”
“Kisses and cuddles?” She requests quietly.
Harry chuckles. “Course, baby. Anything you want.”
+
Y/N had never been so comfortable in a relationship.
She had always been a confident, independent person. Yet, when it comes to Harry, she has come to let herself be taken care of because she sees he finds joy in caring for her. Y/N had never had an equal partnership where her partner put her needs next to his. She understood he was running a billion-dollar company, and she was finishing her degree soon. They were at two different points in life, but Harry always treated her events and exam nights with so much importance it sometimes overwhelmed her.
Harry was happy with her, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Date nights were reserved for the weekends and coffee dates during the week, and Harry always made time to pick her up from campus, so she didn’t have to ask for a ride from a friend. He made himself a part of her life effortlessly.
For a long time, she worried about how she fits into his life, but after dinner with Harry’s friends one weekend, she learned how much of himself he had already given her. Harry held her hand during dinner and asked what she liked to order, going as far as to order her second food option in case she didn’t like hers. He kissed her cheek any chance, not wanting to overwhelm her and his friends with PDA but also reminding her that he was thinking of her. The little things made her realize she was falling in love with Harry.
As Y/N met Harry’s friends and heard embarrassing and loving stories about Harry, she knew it was time for Harry to meet her friends properly. Sapra tried to convince her to invite Matias and Isaac, but Y/N wanted to save meeting her brother for another time. Harry suggested brunch, and Y/N couldn’t argue with that logic. If Sapra or Dawn said anything too embarrassing, she’d just get them drunk on mimosas.
“Are you nervous, Y/N?” Harry asks as she keeps her eyes on the restaurant's door, waiting for her friends to walk in.
Honestly, she was nervous because they knew everything, from when Harry rejected her to when she danced with him. She knows why they are a little weary (Sapra more than Dawn), but they haven’t had a chance to see how Harry really is. Y/N had told them how happy Harry made her. That he dedicated time to her and made her feel important and loved. She knew her friends would accept her if she saw how happy she was, but she also wanted them to like Harry.
“Is it our age difference?”
Y/N frowns that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No, is that something you think about?”
Harry sighs, reaching down to grab her hand and bring it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. Her eyes stay on his face trying to figure out what he’s feeling. “It’s crossed my mind,” he shares honestly.
“It’s not a concern for me,” she promises him.
His green eyes focus back on her, and Y/N sees the glimmer of a smile. “I know, Beauty. It’s not something you’ve ever brought up, but I fear if one of your friends brings it up, then it’ll concern you, and I’ll most likely end up losing you.”
Y/N wishes they weren’t having this conversation now, but it’s her fault for being lost in her head when she should have been assuring him that her friends would love him. “Harry, lovie, I’m in this with you. In this relationship, it’s you and me. No one else. Thank you for being honest with me, but my friends do not influence how I feel about you.”
Harry fails at biting back a smile. He lowers his head, closing the gap between them in the booth. “How do you feel?”
Y/N knows she can be cheeky and tease Harry, but she wants to assure him that she sees a future with him and hopes he feels the same. “I’m crazy about you,” she whispers.
He doesn’t respond but connects his lips against Y/N’s, getting lost in each other, not noticing Y/N’s friends being directed by the hostess to their table. Harry pulls back breathless, allowing himself to get lost in Y/N’s eyes. “The feeling is very much mutual, beauty.”
“Hey lovebirds, can you not do whatever before I’ve eaten,” Sapra teases, pointing at how Y/N is fisting Harry’s button-up tightly. Y/N feels her face heat up and pulls away from Harry.
Dawn flashes them a smile, “it’s nice to officially meet you, Harry. This one’s always talking about you.” Dawn gestures to Y/N, who giggles bashfully against his shoulder.
Harry kisses her cheek, whispering how cute he is before turning his attention back to Dawn and Sapra. “Not as much as she talks about you both, I bet. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
As Y/N’s friends are telling Harry story after story, she realizes that she’s falling in love, and by the way, Harry is holding her hand tightly in his lap that he is too.
+
Harry has never been so happy to have someone make themselves at home in his house. His mother and sister had always told him it was too large for one person, but he told them it wouldn’t always be him. He didn’t know what he wanted in a partner, but after meeting Y/N, he realized he was waiting for her.
It was too soon to say he was in love, but he was basically there. Harry had no intention of letting her go, and by how Y/N enjoyed showering him with kisses every chance she could, he knew she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
Everything was perfect.
She found herself in his study when she needed a quiet place to study. Usually, it meant he gave up his chair and settled on watching her from the couch next to the window. She would have her laptop in front of her, and if he let her, she’d work for hours without a break. He took it upon himself to bring her a snack and drink every hour to ensure she was well nourished. Harry found pleasure in cooking and making snacks because it was one way she allowed him to take care of her.
This evening Y/N was working on her laptop while Harry read a report for the upcoming month. Y/N sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back into the chair. He lifted his head in concern to find her already looking at him, a frown on his face.
“Beauty, what’s wrong?”
Y/N throws her hands up, “you're giving me too much?”
“Sorry?
“I didn’t need a new bag.”
She’s talking about her backpack ripping, and Harry thought nothing of replacing it for her.
“Your old one ripped.”
“My shoes were perfectly fine,” she fires back.
“The laces were barely holding together,” he reminds her.  
“I didn’t need new underwear.”
Harry smirks, “now that was for my pleasure.”
Y/N huffs, “Honey, I’m serious. I don't need all these material items.”
Harry sighs and pats his lap for her to come to sit. She does so without a second thought. She gets comfortable straddling him as his hands rest on her hips.  
“I like providing for you,” Harry expressed.
“I can provide for myself, mister.”
He nods because he knows she can. “But it makes me happy.”
“Harry,” she deadpans.
“Gives me a love boner.”
Y/N scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Be serious.”
Harry’s hands cradle her face, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks affectionately. “Baby, you could run me dry, and it gets me going because it means I was able to take care of you.
She sighs. “God, you're so cute,” she mumbles.
Harry grins, knowing he’s won. “Will you be my good girl and let me spoil you?”
Y/N nods slowly. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him. “If you ever give me a diamond, I'm out,” she reminds him.
“Got it, no diamonds…. What about pearls?” He jokes. At least, she thinks he is.
“Lovie,” she exhales.
Harry has decided he’s had enough of the conversation and kisses her. Y/N always tastes so sweet. He gets lost in exploring her mouth against his that he doesn’t realize she has started rocking against him. Since Harry had given Y/N two orgasms in his bath, they’ve been more physical, but Harry isn’t in any rush, and neither is Y/N. They’re taking it slow, learning every part of their bodies before taking that final step in their relationship. He pulls back the dimples on display, he runs his index finger over Y/N’s swollen lips.
“Popcorn and Survivor, beauty?”
“Oh, Styles, you sure do know the way to a woman’s heart, don’t you,” she teases.
Harry pecks her lips. “Only yours, beauty. Only yours.”
+
Y/N couldn’t believe Harry would do this to her.
Harry sent over a large red box with a bow holding it closed. The carrier bid her goodnight, and she hurried to her kitchen to open the package. Removing the lid, she found a gorgeous emerald green dress. She picked it up, admiring the silk, and quickly pulled her phone out of her sweat pocket to call Harry. He answered on the first ring.
“Hi, beauty,” he greets cheerfully.
“Harry, tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” He feigns.
“You sent me a dress for tonight.”
“Ah,” he giggles. “That I did. Do you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Good. I'll be there at seven to pick you up.”
“You want to go together?” They knew they were both attending, but for some reason, she assumed they’d arrive separately.
“I didn’t get a matching tie for nothing.” He laughs. “See you soon, beauty.”
Y/N hurried to get ready, excited for what the night had in store for her and Harry.
Harry knocked on her door at seven on the dot. She rushed to the door, swinging it open and telling him to come in as she rushed back into her room. He laughed because he had never seen Y/N frazzled, and here she was, rushing, knowing she was running late. Harry put the blooming calla lilies in a vase he knew she kept under her sink.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Harry. My curler was being stupid, and then I couldn’t find my heels.” She huffs as she stands at her entrance, slipping on her heels.
Harry takes a minute to admire the dress on her. It’s an elegant satin spaghetti strap dress with a high slit up her left leg. Her hair is in an elegant updo, with a few strands framing her face. She’s gorgeous, and she’s all his to show off tonight.
“You sure you don’t want to stay home tonight?” He asks, reaching his hands out for her to take.
She shakes her head, knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Absolutely not. It’s a big night.”
And it was.
Y/N’s internship was hosting their gala of the year, where she played a prominent role in helping with the budget and the guest list. He would never keep her away from an event where she was an important guest.
Y/N grabs her clutch that holds her most essential items, such as her lipstick, ID, cash, and keys. She’s telling Harry she’s ready to go when she catches a yellow vase on her table filled with her favorite flowers.
“H,” she sighed. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He kisses her cheek. “Anything to see that pretty smile.”
As she focuses on Harry staring down at her, she realizes she didn’t kiss him hello. Y/N leans in close, pressing her glossed lips against his. Harry hums at the familiar feel. He wants to take it further but knows they need to get going.
“All set?” He whispers.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go then, my gorgeous date.”
Arriving at the venue, Harry offered his keys to the valet as Y/N was helped out the door. Harry met her by the first step and offered his arm. She happily accepted. Walking in, Y/N was awed at the displays of gold scattered around the room. The table decorations were pristine, the lights were perfect for photos, and the ballroom was full of people. As soon as they were inside, Y/N was whisked away by her director, Valentina. Y/N gave Harry an apologetic smile but promised to find him later. Harry had always been good at spending time alone, but for once, he wished Y/N could have paraded him around the room as they introduced each other to people they knew. He knew that time would come.
It’s a beautiful and busy evening; at one point, a waiter finds him a single drink on a tray and hands it over to him, saying that a woman in an emerald green dress sent it to him. It was an amaretto sour, his new favorite. Y/N smiled from across the room when she saw him raise it in her direction as thanks.
The event was winding down, the string quartet was playing their final songs, and Harry was ready to call it a night. After an entire evening away from him, Y/N managed to make her way across the room and stood before him.
Y/N perks up as she hears the opening notes to the song the quartet is playing, their song. Moon River. Harry doesn’t tell her he’s turned the song into her ringtone.
She holds her hand for him to take, and he takes it without a second thought until Harry realizes she’s leading him to the dance floor.
“We’re going to be the talk of the town,” he tells her looking at the lonely dance floor.
Y/N shrugs, “it doesn’t matter.”
As opposed to the first time they danced together, holding space between each other, they were much closer this time. Y/N wrapped her hands around his neck, and his hands found their place on the low of her back.
“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that your opinion is the only one I care about,” Y/N promises him.
Harry’s dimples break through and she grins, leaning up to give him a sweet kiss. She settles back in his arms as their song plays, lost in their own world.
“You know,” Y/N lifted her head, resting on his shoulder. “You once told me you didn’t dance, and yet this is the second time I have gotten you to dance, hmmm?”
Harry laughs because she’s right. “I was waiting for the right partner,” he affirms.
“And is that me?”
“Beauty,” he says softly, his emerald eyes locked on hers. “It could only ever be you,” Harry promises.
Y/N smiles in delight. They might not have had the easiest journey to getting to this moment, but Y/N knew she wouldn’t change anything for the world.
Dancing with Y/N on an empty dance floor to a song he knew had now become theirs, he knew meeting Y/N would be the thing to ever happen to him in life, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them together.
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thank you so much for reading! i love you endlessly, amores 💜
please come tell me what you loved or your favorite part on anything at all. always happy to receive a message. 
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onceagainace · 8 months
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Kinkmas 🎄 № 2: Voyeurism
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summary: harry takes you to amsterdam. 
word count: 4.2k
reading time: 18 min.
content warnings: 18+, sex toys, public sex, sex work(ers), teasing, oral (f reciving), manhandling (if you squint), d/s undertones (harry is just a little bossy is all), pet names (baby, lovie, good girl, pretty girl) implied bi/pan!reader, fxf scene, f solo scene, fxm scenes are also described as well. very obvious ignorance to sex work/sex clubs. 
a/n: now i wanna go to Amsterdam. brb booking my flight! 
________________
Harry prided himself on his ability to plan a trip for the two of you. From beginning to end, you never had a care in the world on these trips other than what dress you would wear to dinner. Even then, Harry often made his preference very clear by digging into your bag while you showered and laying out his pick for the night (accessories included, of course). You didn't mind being his little doll; you liked it when he picked out something for you. It made you feel special; you'd yet to figure out why, but you didn't question it too much. Not when every part of your trip was planned, from the moment you woke up to breakfast in bed to some activity fit for each day to dinner reservations each night. Harry had it all covered. 
You found yourselves on this trip in Amsterdam. 'Just because,' he said. And that was a good enough reason for you to get another stamp on your passport. You've done all the tourist spots thus far. All but one. Until tonight. 
Tonight, you were headed to a show. A show in the redlight district. 
So, what you cheated this time. You saw the confirmation email on Harry's phone from the theater earlier, did a quick Google search, and now your stomach is in knots. In a good way, nervous anticipation more than anything. But still, you had to remain calm. Tonight was a surprise, so you needed to be surprised. 
Harry was sure you were going to be. Regardless of how horrible your acting had been, trying to pretend like you didn't know where you were headed, he knew you too well. He knew you saw the confirmation and damn near planned it for you to see. Harry knew your curiosity would eat at you, and you'd inevitably do your own research. But he also knew that you'd only go searching so far. He hopes he's staying within your boundaries with this one. That this all wasn't too much. But by the way, you're fumbling at the vanity, trying to do the finishing touches to your make-up and hair, telling him you are more than ready for tonight. 
You fumble through your make-up bag in search of a specific brush when Harry comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple. 
"Almost done, baby. I know we are on a timer." you rush out, eyes meeting him in the mirror briefly, not noticing that only one hand is on your waist. The other is behind his back, holding something. 
"Don't rush; we're more than okay on time." he smiles, pressing a hiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that wakes you up. "Can I ask you to hold onto something for me?" 
You don't look up from what you're doing in front of the mirror; you don't even see what he's holding up. "You have a million pockets, bab-" your eyes widen when they meet his in the mirror after locking eyes with what's in his hand. "You brought that on the plane!" you whisper, through a smile, turning towards him, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. In his hand was what was slowly becoming your favorite toy that you and Harry had added to your 'playtime.' It was your remote control butterfly-esque toy. It was meant to fill you up just enough while the buzzing base hit right up against your clit just right. You've discussed wearing it in public before but never thought he would commit to the idea. You can't believe he'd brought it. Happy, excited, even, but nervous. 
"I did. Specifically for tonight. Thought it would be appropriate for where we're going?" 
"Where could we possibly be going where that's appropriate?" you smirk, playfully batting at his chest. 
"You'll see," he smirked, taking a moment to read your face. "Look, I know we've only ever used this guy in the bedroom, but I thought it would be fun tonight. If you are uncomfortable, we can scratch -" 
"No!" you rush out, reaching for it in his hand. "I just mean - what were you thinking?"
"Well, I don't want to give away the whole surprise, but it starts with this," He emphasizes by bringing your attention to the toy, "Going inside of my pretty girl." he smirks, looking between your legs, "after I have a taste of course," he adds. 
"Oh, well, of course," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. 
"Right. So once I've had my fill of my peach, then this will go nice and snug inside your pussy," Harry says with a smile before he brings his hand up from your hip to your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, his eyes blown out in lust. "And you're going to hold it in there for me. All night until we get back here. Hopefully, if you are up for it, I'll be spending the rest of our last night between your legs. Letting you see Amsterdam from your favorite angle, baby." He rasps, dipping his down and crashing his lips to yours. 
On your back. 
You giggle into the kiss. It was a silly thing you'd said when you were in Paris. You had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. You are unsure how he did it; regardless, it was an ideal view. And yet you spent most of the trip, seeing it upside down, while on your back, head dangling off the side of the bed as Harry had worked, orgasm after orgasm from you. You'd then joked that you'd want to see every city with him on your back. Seeing the Eiffel Tower upside down was your favorite way to see it. So it's kind of become a tradition of sorts to have mind-blowing sex in each city you visit together, at least once.  
Harry has taken it to be a challenge to get you that high off him, to say something just as goofy in every city, and if that meant you were on your back, well….it was tradition. He leans in, deepening the kiss, "How's that sound?" He pulls away and chuckles at your eyes, still fluttering open. 
"Good. yeah." 
"Yeah? This is okay?" he asks, seriously, his tone sweet as pie. 
"Yeah. It…could be fun. Just try not to embarrass me too with it too bad," you joke with a sigh, and Harry shakes his head insistently. 
"Never. I'd never embarrass you with this. This is for us, for you. S' not to make a spectacle of you. I'd never." 
"I know," You giggle into a kiss, trying to shake some of your nerves. 
"I just want you to know. Now," He smirks devilishly down at you, lust clouding over his eyes, "Can I?" 
You cross your arms across your chest, "I don't know, can you?" you mock, finally getting to pull his favorite word 'gotcha' on him. And he groans, gripping your jaw again, playfully growling at you. 
"You brat." he sighs at you. He leans down, kissing you deep, before pulling away just enough. "May I?" he asks, eyes never leaving yours. "Please." 
"You may." you breathe out.
You barely have time to register his movements. He's on his knees before you, hiking your dress up your thighs in seconds. He looks up at you with a devilish grin as he shimmies your panties down your thighs. You kick them to the side, and Harry grabs hold of one of your thighs, hooking it over his shoulder, "Lean back, baby. Hold onto the sink." He smirks before planting sloppy kisses up each of your thighs. Slow and intimate.  
Harry wasn't a fan of quickies. Sure, you'd had a few here and there, but they were never Harry's style. He never rushed, not with you. And especially not when he was given the privilege of going down on you. No, he was going to savor every moment he got to spend between your thighs. Knowing that he was the only one to see you from this angle. 
When his lips finally did land where you'd been wanting them, it was just a light peck to your folds. Followed by a long bold lick from your entrance to your clit. 
"Harry, we don't have time." You whine, wanting him to devour you like you both know he wanted to. 
"Shhh, don't you worry about that," he coos, placing another kiss on your thigh, "just relax." He returned his lips to your folds and did what Harry does best. Take you to heaven. He went slow at first, alternating between licking up and down your folds and sucking on your clit. His hands roamed and groped, pulling you down further onto his tongue. He licked and sucked, twirled his tongue. God, was he amazing with his mouth. And never was he stingy in blessing you with his oral talents. He was so lost in you, drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, Harry nearly forgot about his original plan. It wasn't until he felt your fingers twist into his hair, tugging ever so slightly with a whine, that he was brought back down to earth. 
"Can I ask you for one more thing, baby?" He asks against your pussy. You look down at him, eyes blown out in lust, nodding vigorously. You were so close. 
"Mmhmm, anything." You keen, tugging at his hair some more. 
"I need you to come for me. Can you do that?" He asks, looking up at you, slowly inserting his middle finger inside. 
Your mouth falls open, eyes still locked on Harry on his knees for you. "Mmmhmm." You nod. 
"Good girl," He coos, and your stomach flips at the praise, "You come for me, and then I'll give you the toy, and you keep it for the rest of the night, okay?" Again, all you had the brain power to do was nod at him, tugging his hair, pulling him closer. 
You could feel the spring in the pit of your stomach; you were right there. "Harry-"you keen, 
"That's it, baby, come on." He encourages, curling his fingers up, dragging them in and out of you at a pace that has you spinning. "Come on my fingers, baby." 
It's all you need. Harry's permission before you come undone on one of his hands while the other arms hold you up. He works you through your first orgasm of the night, pulling it from you with every drag of his fingers. You barely have time to fully come down before you feel him removing his fingers and inserting the toy. It's slightly thicker than Harry's fingers, so the fit is somewhat snug, but the feeling is phenomenal. 
Harry straightens up once the toy is in place and you've caught your breath. He shimmies your panties back up your legs and straightens your dress out for you. You wrap your areas around his shoulders, bringing him close to you, and he places a sweet peck on your forehead and nose before kissing your lips, just enough for you to taste yourself. "You okay?" He smiles. 
"Yeah. Thank you." You breathe out, your head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm, your legs still a little weak. 
"You don't have to thank me every time I make you come, baby." He chuckles. 
"I know. But still." You shrug, leaning your forehead against his for just a moment. You two stood momentarily while you came down, holding each other against the sink. 
"Can you finish getting ready for me?" He asks, bringing you back to the present. 
"Yeah - just a few minutes." you smile. He looked down at you with a proud grin on his face.
"I'll be out there," he looks down at his watch and chuckles. "Okay, maybe now we are on a bit of a time crunch, but still - baby, don't rush." He places a quick kiss on your temple. "I will be by the door when you're ready." 
'I'll be by the door' was Harry Speak for 'I love you, but you have ten minutes.' You shake your head and opt for a quick brown contour on your eyes to give you some life rather than your planned smoky eye. You topped off the look with some mascara and gloss. It's a nice no-make-up look. 
Perfect for a sex show - Buzzzz. You jolted forward. 'He's a mind reader, isn't he?' You think. How else could he have perfectly cued the vibrating egg to go off at the mere thought of tonight's plans?  
"Lovie - come on," Harry calls from the front of the hotel with a smirk ever so present in his voice. 
Bastard. You curse him in your head, trying to keep your moans at bay. Just when you think you feel like you feel the beginnings of that tingly feeling that starts at the base of your spine once more, it stops. And Harry comes around the corner, no indication on his face that he's the reason you've been hunched over in here rather than out there with him. "You ready?" 
Shit. You hated this game. You were terrible at it. But it was Harry's favorite. 
The game? Harry worked you up, with you doing the same, while you both played coy and ignored the other's attempts until someone broke. That someone was nearly always you. 
"Yes." You squeak out, straightening your dress out. "Fuck." you say out loud. How would you keep this thing in you with a dress if he plans on doing that all night? 
"Everything okay?" he asks condescendingly. 
"Fine." you breathe out. You were not going to let Harry win at this that easy. "I'm fine, let's go. I'm ready." He smiles at you, proud of your attempt to keep the game going. Tonight was going to be so fun for you both. 
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Harry kept you huddled into his side as you moved through the brisk December streets of Amsterdam. Your coat was more style than function, and Harry, ever the gentleman, sacrificed his own for you to stay warm. 
"We're just about - Oh. Here it is." he slows down, pulling you behind him to a door along a strip of stores that looked abandoned. He feels the weight of you stopped behind him. "I promise this is the place." Still, you don't budge, "I have it on good authority that this is the place," he smirks. 
"Who's authority, Harry?" You whisper for some reason, but this feels like the part of town where you whisper. Without answering, he turns his back to you, looking down at his phone again before knocking on the door several times and pocketing it. And it opens. Harry gives a vague riddle, and the next thing you know, you are being pulled behind a doorway in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. 
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It's a theater. A rather large one, with three stages, or one big stage with two diving walls. Each location was wide enough to have stairs leading from the vast audience to each stage. In the back was a bar, lit dimly with a few scattered patrons. But in the center of the room, the audience seating was…different. 
For one, the place was packed with patrons. For seating, there were booths and small tables, but closer to the stage were cabana-type seating, with some sort of private walls made of flowy dark satin curtains. The whole space was draped in dark purple, black, and gold. The lights were low, completely dim, if not for the stage light and the small lamps scattered about on some tables. The music was quiet yet thumping. You could feel the bass in your chest, and the vibrations did nothing to help the ache between your thighs. 
But, the stages. 
That's where the center of all attention in the large room was and where your eyes were glued the entire time Harry pulled you through the theater to your reserved booth. 
"Sit, baby." Harry smiles, tugging your hand for you to follow him into the rounded booth. You look down at him, then behind you, realizing you are blocking people's view. "You like it?" Harry asks, draping an arm around your shoulder as you shrug off his jacket, draping it across your lap. Covering what your dress doesn't. 
My clever girl, Harry thinks. 
"Is this -" 
"This is the show," he whispers down into your ear. "See, each one is a different stage of arousal. See?" he explains, looking out onto the stages. You get a perfect view of all three stages from where you two are seated. You notice a few smaller platforms scattered throughout the room and at either side of the stage, to the right and left. On each platform stood a woman, fully exposed, moving to the music and flowing with the lights that danced across her skin. It was art. 
On the stage closest to you and Harry was a couple, a man and a woman. He was much larger than her, similar to you and Harry's size difference. He towered over her as he caressed her cheek. Their movements were slow and sensual but deliberate as they stood center stage, with nothing but a chair on stage beside them. You were so focused on them and the music and the lights you didn't notice Harry reaching into his pocket, retrieving the remote for the toy. Only when it was too late did you realize. As you feel the toy's vibrations, you reach over, gripping Harry's knee underneath the tiny cocktail table. A small squeak escaped your lips. 
"Shhh…baby, be good. Be quiet for me, okay?" 
"Yeah." you quip out, digging your nails into his thigh, causing him to hiss. 
"Use me how you need, baby," he whispers tightly into your ear, and you have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning out in this theater. Not that anyone would hear the music and the noises coming from the women on the stage; there must have been microphones on stage with how clear their moans rang through the room.  
Another woman was on the stage to the far right of where you were. She was alone, besides the assortment of toys next to her, but by the looks and sounds of it, she didn't need any of it. No, she was doing just fine the old-fashioned way.  
Then you take in the stage to the left of you. You have to turn your head a little to get a full view of it all, and once you do, the grip on Harry's knee tightens. It was two women in the throws of passion, in a position you've only ever dreamed of. They lay on each of their sides, facing opposite directions, faces buried in each other's thighs. 
"I picked this show for them. Especially. I know you'd love them." He turns the vibrator up, but only a nudge, still a low hum, and nothing to write home about. But with the images and sounds surrounding you, it was enough to drive you mad. His lips linger at your year a second too long, his breath sending those pleasant tingles all over your body. "And Him," he says, drawing your attention back to the stage closest to you. 
The couple is half dressed now, her breasts exposed, and he - well, you know why Harry said what he did. The man was a sight to behold. He couldn't hold a candle to Harry size-wise, but he was impressive and above average. And he didn't even appear to be fully erect. The woman was working on changing that, it seemed. You watched as she took his impressive length into her much smaller hand and pumped him slow, up and down. You looked over at Harry, who couldn't keep his eyes off you. 
"You're missing the show," you whisper as he licked his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth. You mirrored his action. 
"No, I'm not." He smirked, "Eyes, forward." he demanded softly. He turns up the vibe once again as you watch the woman drop to her knees in front of the man, who's opted to sit in the provided chair. From the way he is sitting in the chair to the side, you have a perfect view of the woman wrapping her lips around him with a pornographic moan. You couldn't help but suck in a breath. Suddenly, you were longing for the weight of Harry to be on your tongue. To feel him fill your mouth, your throat, to hear him groan as you reached up to play with his balls. You craved it. 
 For a split second, you looked around the crowded room. You are taking in the sights and sounds. There were a couple of groups, some people kissing and some whispering to one another, but every eye was locked on that stage. All except Harry, that is. You turn your attention back on the two girls, and they're both cuddled up to each other on a makeshift bed of sheets and pillows on stage, basking in an assumed post-orgasm glow. Harry catches the pout on your lips immediately. 
"I missed it." 
"You better pay attention then," He chuckles, "with all your sense. Not just sight. Listen, smell…feel." 
Feel. 
Oh, this damn egg! The hum of the vibrator is ever-present between your thighs now. Though it's not enough vibration to relieve the ache that's developed, it is starting to get you to that place that makes you warm and fuzzy rather quickly. And you want more, need more. So you turn to face him, landing a sweet peck on his lips. Then, leaning your forehead to his for a moment and leaning into his ear, whispering, "Harry, can I get more, please." You beg, sweetly. He pulls you away from him by the chin, kissing your nose. 
"No. Watch the show." He says and smiles when you huff at him, wiggling in the booth for some much-needed relief, your attention back to center stage. He pinches your arm lightly, "Don't do that, either. You know the rules. Take what I give you." he recites. You nod in understanding and try to focus on the show center stage. 
The woman has the man's cock fully down her throat now, and she sucked him with such enthusiasm, and his head was thrown back in such ecstasy it nearly gave you cock envy. When she finally came up for air with an animated throw of her head, she stood up from her spot between his legs before sitting on his lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulder. She leans in, kissing him slowly as his hands roamed all over her body. Groping, and kneading…spanking. That's when you feel his lips on your neck. And you are going to lose your mind. Was this hot? Absolutely. But you needed Harry like you've never before, and being unable to do anything about it was killing you. 
"Harry, I don't know how much longer I can-"You were close. Embarrassingly close. 
"Okay." He hums, and the next thing you know, the vibrations between your legs stopped. You let out a deep sigh, something mixed with frustration and relief. "There, now….you can focus. Watch them." Harry instructs. 
So you do. You watch. You watch as she slowly takes his length into her hand, pumping him a few moments before sinking down onto him. You hear her moans as she gets fully seated on him, setting a pace. Harry couldn't help but watch and hear your breath hitch as hers did. Knowing what you were thinking, knowing that you were thinking about him. How he feels inside you, stretching you out, making you feel full. He knew because he couldn't help but think about the same. 
As the woman on stage picked up her pace, bouncing on the man's cock up and down, swiveling her hips, you felt it again. The buzzing of the toy between your thighs. 
"Harry," you whisper, gripping onto his thigh again. 
"Shhh, you're okay," he assures but places a quick peck on your shoulder, momentarily drawing your attention to him. "Do you want it off?" He asks, checking in. 
"No!" you rush out, and he smiles at Cheshire's grin before turning it up two more notches. Your grip on his thigh tightens as you bite your lip, turning back to the stage. 
She is close now, you can tell. Her pace is quicker more frantic, and the noises. God, the noises she was making were heavenly, mixed with his groans as you watched him lunge forward, attaching his lips to her chest. 
Harry takes his other hand that wasn't wrapped around you, tangling his fingers with yours, giving them a comforting squeeze. 
"Harry, please." 
"No, baby." He says sternly. He knew what you were asking for, and as much as he hated saying no to you, he wouldn't let you come in public. Even if you were hidden by the walls of the tall booth, even if no one was watching, he would never allow it. When it came to you, Harry was selfish, and when it came to your pleasure and who got to see you in your most intimate moments, he was downright protective. 
Just as the woman on stage reached her peach, you were about to tell Harry that you couldn't hold it. That you couldn't take anymore without coming, the vibrator stops. You lean over, resting your head on Harry's shoulder. 
"I was so close." you pout.
"I know. But I'll take care of you when we get back. I promise."
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kinkmas 2023 masterlist 
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