#harry edward style
Text
subject to change 1.1 (final)
w/c: 6.3k
summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late?
part one
a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!
cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!
Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.
He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.
Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.
You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.
It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.
Oh, a new post.
You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.
Interesting.
Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.
You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last.
You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again.
You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.
“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.
Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.
Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight.
The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”
About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened.
“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.
“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives.
Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand.
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.
“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him.
“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.
“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”
He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”
Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.
“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.
“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.
“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.
“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering.
You were born at night, but not last night.
“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?”
“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.
“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”
“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”
“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”
“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.
“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.
“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.”
“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.
“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.
“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.
“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind.
“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.
“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips.
“P-please, t-touch me.”
“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.
“T-that’s su–subject to change,” you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.
Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.
“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.
You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.
“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.
“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”
“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.
He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.
“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.
“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place.
“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more.
“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?”
You nod.
“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.
You smile.
Big.
“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.
“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it.
You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.
“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”
“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.
“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes.
He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.
“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.
“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.
“D-don’t tease, sweets.”
You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention.
“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.
“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.
“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.
“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock.
“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.
“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.
“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face.
“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips.
“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue.
“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.
“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.
“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.
“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.
“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.
“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt.
“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”
Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress.
“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots.
“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.
“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body.
“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.
“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.
“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds.
“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.”
“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.
“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you.
But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod.
He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?”
“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”
“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”
“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself.
“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.
“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.
“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again.
“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back.
“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.
“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.
“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”
“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy.
Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.
“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”
“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.
“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.
“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.
“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?”
“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”
“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”
The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.
He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.
“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.
“If I believe in love.”
“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.
“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception.
There is none.
“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.
“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.
c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
#harry styles fanfiction#harry edward styles#harry styles writing#harry edward style#harry styles imagine#harry smut#harry imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#Harry x you#Harry x reader
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Knockout*
Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.
Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence
Your stranger is here.
He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.
He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.
And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.
A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.
He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.
Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.
You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.
You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is.
“Hi, Cherry.”
Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring.
You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.
Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.
“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”
Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”
“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”
“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”
“As much as you want.”
He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”
You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.
Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”
“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.
And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”
“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”
Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different.
So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.
“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”
And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy.
“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.
Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”
“Good. Better now.”
The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles.
“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you.
There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”
You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”
Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall.
“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”
Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”
It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him.
“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”
“Are you?”
He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”
“Why?”
He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”
It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.
But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.
He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”
“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”
He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”
You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one.
“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”
Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”
“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”
Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”
“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”
The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him.
He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.
That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.
He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.
And from that night on, you became his Cherry.
He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.
And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:
He always pays with big bills.
He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.
And his name is Harry.
Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.
“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back.
You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”
“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”
Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”
“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”
You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”
However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”
His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner.
You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”
You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”
The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.
“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”
Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”
You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.
You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.
Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.
“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”
Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck.
Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.
“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”
“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”
The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.
“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.
But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”
Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.
You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.
“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”
And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”
Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”
“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”
His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.
The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.
Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied.
And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.
Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request.
Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.
With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.
However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”
But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.
The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”
And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.
All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.
There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.
You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.
“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”
“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”
Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.
“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”
Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”
Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”
“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”
“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"
Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.
“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”
With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.
But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.
He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.
And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.
Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.
You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante.
Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down.
“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.
“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”
You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.
And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”
“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”
“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”
He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”
He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly.
“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”
“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”
And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.
And truth be told…you think he already knows.
His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.
“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”
“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”
“Oh…how?”
His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”
“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”
The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting.
But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe.
You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.
“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”
A beat. Then, “…every night.”
The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.
And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.
But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.
It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.
And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in.
Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.
It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.
“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”
You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.
“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”
A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.
“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”
You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.
And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.
“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”
And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else.
“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”
He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit.
“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”
He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.
“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”
You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like.
Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.
His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside.
“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”
You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”
“Promise?”
“Mhm. Promise.”
The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”
He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.
Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him.
You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.
Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.
Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.
“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”
Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips.
They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable.
Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs.
Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.
But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer.
“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”
You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.
Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.
He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”
You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”
He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”
Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.
When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs.
“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”
He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.
And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.
He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly.
He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”
“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”
His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you.
You’ve never been so happy in your life.
He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.
His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds.
You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.
“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”
You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.
The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier.
“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”
It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.
He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows.
It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.
He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.
Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.
And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”
“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”
You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.
“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”
He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him.
You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”
You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles.
The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.
And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.
You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.
Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.
By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good.
He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.
Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.
“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”
The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.
But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.
He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.
He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum.
You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.
Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.
Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.
He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.
Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart.
You’d keep him forever if you could.
You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.
“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”
And you know he will.
“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”
You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.
Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”
You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.
He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”
You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”
“Is that right?”
Another shake. “Get bored.”
“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”
Now you nod, making a noise of agreement.
He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”
You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.
“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”
And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out.
“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”
“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer.
“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”
He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.
The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.
You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”
And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.
Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.
Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.
His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.
“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”
And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater.
“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”
“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”
And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out.
You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you.
Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"
And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.
“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”
And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.
But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”
“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”
“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”
“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”
“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”
You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.
He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”
Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.
But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.
He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?”
That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie.
“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”
Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.
He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.
This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle.
And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort.
When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”
You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.
“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”
You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.
“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”
He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.
“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”
And you decide you like the sound of that.
Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.
He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”
You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.
You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence.
You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall.
You hope one day you get to find out.
“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”
You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.
“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”
You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.
“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”
He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you.
His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”
He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.
“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”
The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.
“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”
The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you.
“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”
And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.
But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye.
“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”
And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.
“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”
The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.
But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.
He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.
After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.
“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”
Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm.
And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”
“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”
His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”
“I’m…trying. I think.”
“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”
His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.
You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour.
It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”
With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”
This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”
“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”
His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”
It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.
But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.
His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”
You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”
Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”
“Promise?”
His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”
And you choose to believe him.
You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.
A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.
You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.
When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.
But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.
But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06.
Your stranger isn’t here.
I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞
Next Part:
~ Whiplash*
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge
#harry#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry edward styles#harry styles concept#harry styles fic#harry styles story#smut#boxer!harry#boxer#harry and cherry#knockout#knockout harry#underground boxer!harry#harry styles series#harry styles fanfic#boxerry
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The Handyman
Summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.
A/N: This was requested! Also if you'd like to see early access content like this (plus more exclusive content) consider joining my Patreon! xoxo
Word Count: 10.9k
Warning: smut, mentions of a close relative dying, and tons of sweetness
When you pulled up the long dirt driveway to the old estate you used to spend your summers at, it was as if you could feel your aunt Gayla’s presence all around you again. You could remember running through the fields and the trees and dawdling your afternoons away on the big wraparound porch with extra sweet lemonade and book after book.
Your aunt would have her old radio playing with records or cassette tapes, volume turned up so loud you’d be out climbing a tree a quarter mile off and could still hear the sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival or Stevie Nicks crooning over the distance. When the sun would begin to dip in the sky, oranges and pinks coloring in where it was bright blue just before, she’d change the record to Bill Withers or maybe even Louis Armstrong and she’d call you in by screaming at the top of her lungs that it was time to eat. But when you’d arrive she’d pull you into her arms and dance with you and tell you how important it was to read, write, dance, and love.
And everything she did and the way she lived her life had the biggest influence on yours these days. She had been your favorite person, next to your mother of course. But your mother died when you were 17 and your aunt filled in to help raise you when your dad was overwhelmed with the loss of his wife and trying to reign in a hormonal and emotional young woman. He tried his best but you knew it was lucky your aunt stepped up to help guide you into adulthood.
So it came as almost no surprise to anyone when your aunt passed and she left you everything she had. At the time you didn’t realize she had so much. At the reading of the will, it was just you and your father. The lawyer said you’d be inheriting her estate and every dime she had to her name. But when he read off the number, well, that part very much came as a surprise.
It was a life-changing number. And her old, huge house set on 16 acres in that old, small town was worth far more than you ever imagined it would be. You were advised to sell it at first. And you certainly considered it. What would you be needing with so much space all by yourself so far away from the big city you currently lived in? That money could just be piled on top of the already large sum she’d left you.
But the more you considered selling it the more you hated that idea. All the wonderful memories you had there, all that gorgeous space with expanses of marble and hardwood and tall trees and meadowland could be a sanctuary. It could be a place for you to live. To enjoy the large space, tall ceilings, and windows, the sunrises and sunsets… To play music loudly and dance in front of your oven as you baked muffins and write to your heart’s content.
It could certainly be far better than your studio apartment that cost nearly as much in rent as what you made working your ass off at the paper. You could move out of your rundown, mouse-infested building and fix up the old estate to your liking. You could quit your job and begin writing full-time like you always wanted. Your aunt’s house would be the perfect place to begin your new adventure. A refuge of peace. An oasis of your own to spark inspiration and creativity.
And so here you were, standing with the key in hand on the big front porch, old, rotted boards bending and cracking as you stepped up to the door to open it for the first time in years. When your aunt had fallen sick, she’d been transferred to the city to live with your father as she was unable to care for herself during the end of her life. You helped as often as possible. On Saturdays, you’d take her to the park to sit on the bench and watch the birds and the trees and you’d chat about the books you were reading and life. You did that every Saturday until she could no longer be moved from her bed. But you were always with her every Saturday, by her side and holding her hand until she had no more Saturdays left.
You felt a surge of emotion as you walked through the space. The old funky vintage chandelier that hung over the dining table was covered in cobwebs. When your aunt had it installed you helped her paint the little ceramic flowers in various shades of green and yellow. It had been all white at one time.
But it was the window that stretched along the wall that overlooked the back acreage that drew you closer. Pulling the dusty curtains aside, sunshine filled the room. Sheets covered the furniture that had all been left behind.
The whole place was yours. And you had a great feeling about this next phase in your life.
. . .
After a week of cleaning, working in the garden, peeling wallpaper down, having a new refrigerator and oven range installed as well as a washer and dryer for clothes, and attempting to tear out wooden boards from the front porch all by yourself, you’d hit a wall. It was clear you’d need help to get the house in tip-top shape.
Scouring the internet for handyman recommendations, you were left feeling quite hopeless. So you made a trip into town to talk to the owner of the hardware shop you met some days earlier when you were buying paint and tools. He had mentioned he knew someone who could help if you ever needed. A local man who took over his father’s business. You imagined there weren’t a lot of people willing to make the trip out to the small town and then even further out to the old house miles from the main road.
When you arrived, as you expected, the place was empty aside from Mr. George shuffling about behind the counter. When he spotted you his face lit up in a grin, “Miss Y/n! How can I help you this Thursday morning?”
“Hi, Mr. George. I was uh, wondering if I could get the number of that handyman you were telling me about? I think I’ve done all I can do by myself at this point. Some of the electricity needs rewiring, the boards in the porch are rotting away–“
“Say no more, my dear. I’ll call him right now,” he placed his hand over the phone receiver, “We’ll see if he can make some time today or tomorrow and if not, I’ll bet he can fit you in next week for a quote.”
“Next week?” You frowned.
“Well, he’s the only one who runs the business these days. His pop passed away a couple of months back so I’m assuming he might be a bit busy. Good guy, though. I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he’d do your aunt’s place justice.”
You nodded. That would have to be good enough you supposed. If not this week, next week you figured would be okay. Things were different in the small town than they were back in the big city. Life moved a bit slower and that was something you would just have to get used to.
Mr. George dialed the number he pulled up from his desktop Rolodex as you patiently waited to find out if the recommended handyman would be interested in helping you or not.
“Harry! My boy! How are you?” Mr. George spoke into the receive with a big smile.
“Yeah… I’m well too. Hey, look,” he glanced at you, “I’ve got a lovely young woman here who needs some help with her new house… yes. It’s that old mansion off Timbert. The one about a two miles from the main road… exactly. Gayla’s old place… It’s her niece, uh,” he cupped the receiver and looked at you with his brows raised as you spoke your name to him, “her name is Y/n.”
Seemed everyone in this town knew your aunt. You watched George scribble down something on a piece of scrap paper before sliding it over to you and began to make a little small talk with the man called Harry.
It was a number and the name of the company, Styles and Son. Mr. George pointed at the paper, and looked at you, “Write your number down here for me.”
You picked up the pen he used and wrote your number with your first and last name next to it, handing the paper back to him.
Mr. George tore off the section with your number and nodded at you, “Okay, ready for the number?”
He read it off to Harry before looking at you and holding out the receiver, “Wants to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Oh, sure,” you reached for the phone and stepped closer to the counter so you could put it to your ear, “Hello?”
“Hi. You’re Gayla’s niece?”
“Yes, sir. She recently passed and left the house to me and I wanted to fix it up a little.”
“My dad used to help Gayla out whenever she needed things done. I’ve never had the opportunity to see the inside but I’d like to come by maybe tomorrow afternoon when you have an hour or so to spare?”
“Sure! I’ll be home all day. Any time works for me.”
“Great. Let’s say around 2? I’ll give you a call before I head that way. George gave me your phone number, and make sure he gives you mine.”
“Oh yeah. He already did. I’ve got it written down here.”
“M’kay… well, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/n.”
“Sure! And thank you again!”
Mr. George took the phone from you and placed it into its cradle to hang up the call, “You know… Harry’s a single man. Bout your age. My wife says he’s a looker and I reckon you two might get along well.”
“Is that so?” You grinned at the store owner as you folded up Harry’s contact info and stuffed it into your pocket, “Appreciate this, Mr. George. So much. Truly.”
“Ahh, it’s nothin’. This small town is a close-knit community. We’re all here to help each other when we can.”
. . .
Instead of calling you, Harry texted when he was on his way over.
See you in half an hour. H
You smiled at the thought of finally getting some help in that big lonely house. Wiping the sweat from your forehead you climbed down the step ladder to freshen up a bit before Harry could arrive. You slid on a clean cotton dress, washed your hands and face, and then made some lemonade should he want anything to drink.
When Harry arrived you heard his truck clonking up the dirt driveway before you saw it. He’d been your first visitor so it was the first time you’d had the pleasure of hearing a vehicle driving toward your house (and didn’t it feel so weird to call it your house?). You watched out the window as dust kicked up from his tires. It was a big black truck. A decal on the side that read Styles and Son.
Walking onto your porch you waved to greet him as he stepped out, feet landing on the ground. His attire was simple. Jeans and a white t-shirt with a pocket at the front. Work boots. But what you couldn’t get over as he smiled and raised his big hand to wave back at you was how fit and broad he was. Tanned skin on his arms and tattoos up the length of one of them. Chestnut curls with touches of light brown and maybe blond hidden in the strands. He was tall and he was handsome.
“Y/n?” He smiled as he walked up the steps to your porch with his eyes on you. Green eyes.
“Yes! I’m Y/n,” you reached your hand out to him as he gripped it into his palm to shake.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve always wanted to check out Gayla’s house. Glad I’ve got the opportunity,” he looked down at the boards under his feet, “And first thing is,” he bent down and placed the heel of his palm into the wood, “this porch needs updating in a bad way.” He stood back up, soft green irises on you, “Feel how soft that is when you step over it?” He spoke as he demonstrated, pressing his foot into the floor of the porch.
You nodded, “Oh yeah. I already tore some of the boards out but I knew I couldn’t do all this on my own.”
Harry squinted at you and the way his eyes scraped down over your dress and to your feet then back up to your face had you tingling, “You tore out some boards on your own?” He nodded with an impressed look on his face.
Now you were feeling flustered. The sudden shift in temperature made it feel like your cotton panties were digging into your hips and your thighs too tight.
You laughed and shook your head, “Oh… I mean it wasn’t much. But…” you looked back up at him and watched as a lopsided smile took over his face, complete with a dimple, “You wanna come inside? See the place?”
“Absolutely.”
You pushed the front door in and let Harry pass through into the space. You watched him look all around and then walk toward the big front window and slide his hand over the wood frame, “Beautiful woodwork here,” he looked up toward the ceiling and then along the wall toward the archway into the dining area, “It looks like it’s probably throughout the house. We’ll be sure to keep this original,” he looked at you suddenly, “Unless you wanted to completely change all this. It’s up to you but I would suggest trying to maintain the existing features.”
“I would love to keep it original if possible. So… are you saying you’ll do this for me?”
Harry chuckled and ran his index finger under his nose, “Soon as I saw the place as I drove up the path to get here had my heart set on it. Of course, we’ll need to talk numbers and come to an agreement but I’m ready to start as soon as possible. What’s the electricity situation? Original too?” He looked up at the light sconce on the wall.
“I think it’s all original. Everything. Most likely all needs overhauled to bring it up to code. So… you don’t have other jobs you are committed to right now? Thought you were the only one?”
Harry raised his brows and looked back at you, “Hired a helper a couple weeks back. He can do all the odd jobs for me while I focus on this. Honestly, Y/n,” you scorched at the way he said your name so casually, “There ain’t tons of work around here. I usually have one or two small jobs a day. Garbage disposal repair, sodding a yard, shingle repair… we do bigger jobs too like tree stump removal, burst pipes, and things like that. One-offs usually.”
“Tree stump removal… you do all that?”
He nodded, “Yep. I do it all. Got the equipment from when my father was running the business. My dad and I were the only ones in town to do all this kind of stuff so we learned how to do just about everything.”
You showed Harry around the rest of the house and described what you thought you might want done. But watching Harry slide his hands over your baseboards and knock at the walls as he talked about what he’d do… you smiled and agreed with everything he said.
“I do want the wallpaper out, though. It’s a little too dated for my taste,” you ran your finger over the silk flower design wall covering and Harry put his palm over the wall and nodded, “We could look at other wallpaper if you wanted. Or were you just thinking paint?”
You bit your lip and leaned into the wainscoting, “Maybe a new wallpaper? What do you think is better?”
Harry mimicked your pose, placing his hip on the white wainscoting, and faced you, “There are some really high-quality wallpapers out there. In any pattern you can think of. Can also get them custom-made if you had the money for it. I’d get the wallpaper if I were you.”
You nodded, “I’ll be honest, Harry, my aunt left me a good bit of money and I’d like to restore the place with really nice quality things and finishes. Want it to look as beautiful here as it did the day it was built. I’m not too worried about how much it’ll all cost. Within reason of course.”
Harry pushed himself from the wall and clasped his hands together behind his back, “I’m really sorry for your loss by the way. Was a shock to everyone when we found out she passed.”
You nodded, “Yeah. I always thought she’d live forever. Spent so many summers here with her, climbing trees and dancing… just feels so weird that she’s gone now,” a small smile covered your face, “But also, I’m sorry to hear about your dad too. His recent passing.”
The smile fell from Harry’s face, “Did George tell you he passed?”
“He did. I’m sorry if bringing that up wasn’t–“
“No, it’s fine. I was about to tell you anyway. Hence the name of the business, Styles and Son. I’m the son part of it,” he grinned, “But yeah. He died and I took over the business. It’s been a struggle. I miss him but I think he’d be really pleased that I was getting the chance to fix this old place up.”
You offered Harry some lemonade and you both sat on the back porch together as you discussed what you wanted done first with the house. Of course, Harry already had a solid timeline in mind, he’d start with the electrical wiring and the rotten boards on the porch and make sure everything was up to code and safe before getting to the more superficial parts of the job. The garden and landscaping would come last.
Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.
“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”
You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.
Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.
But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.
And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.
You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.
Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.
“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”
“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”
He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”
You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”
Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”
You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”
“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.
When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.
“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.
Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”
You sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll get it. You don’t have to do all this. I promise I’m fine. Just need to kind of wake up I think.”
Harry nodded, “Okay. I’ll get back to work out there. Gonna be some loud hammering and noises for a while.”
You cleaned yourself up and put actual clothes on before making coffee and bringing a hot mug out to Harry on a tray. This time, you carefully placed your steps around the boards and scanned the porch to see open spaces and nails in a tin next to fresh boards.
Harry was crouched along the railing and prying a board from its spot when he looked up at you.
“Coffee? Wasn’t sure if you take it with sugar or cream… Or maybe you just want tea?” You placed the tray down as he stood up.
“That’s really nice of you. Thank you. I would love some coffee. Black is fine.”
He took the mug by its handle and brought it up to his lips to take a sip.
“And if you’re hungry I could make you something?” You watched him gulp down the hot liquid.
Shaking his head he grinned at you, “Maybe lunch in a few hours. I ate breakfast already. But you don’t need to go out of your way to make anything. I can go into town for a sandwich, which is what I usually do.”
“Oh no. I’ll make you something for lunch! I insist! I love the company anyway. That way you can kind of relax instead of driving back and forth just to eat. Unless you want to get away for a bit. I mean…” you started rambling. You couldn’t help yourself. Harry’s biceps were on full display as he lifted the mug up to his mouth again and you could just feel your own mouthwatering at the sight. You hadn’t seen a man so attractive in a long time. All the city guys you dated were nice enough… but then there was Harry. Tall with broad shoulders and lean muscle all over, deep pink lips and light green eyes… and dimples… and he was handy? God, you weren’t sure how long you could go before you started to become obvious about how much you enjoyed letting your irises rove over his frame. That is if it wasn’t already obvious.
He watched you go on and on about lunch and then offer up other suggestions with a small smile on his face until you stopped when you realized you were yammering, “Sorry.”
“You okay?” He grinned. He knew you were fine. But he did wonder if you were flustered because of him or if that was how you just were.
“I’m fine. Sorry. Get kind of long-winded sometimes. I’ll let you get to it. Um… if you do want me to make you lunch just let me know. And uh…” you paused and then realized you were about to start yapping again, “I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice was soft as he spoke your name and you turned to look back at him, “Take a breath. It’s okay. We’ll have lunch together in a few hours. Yeah?”
You puffed out a breathy laugh and nodded before heading back inside with the tray that had sugar and milk atop.
You hadn’t considered it until then. Until you were placing the small crystal lid back onto the sugar bowl and putting the milk back into the refrigerator that your sudden burst of inspiration for the story you were working on was thanks to your handsome handyman. It also felt really good to have someone else there with you. Not that you didn’t feel safe there alone, but just having another presence near you was comforting.
And when you began to make up a lunch, something you hoped he’d like (you had to stop yourself from asking him if he’d want cucumbers and white cheese on his sandwich and just trust that it would be fine) you couldn’t help but peek out your window at him as he pounded his hammer down and wiped the sweat from his brow. His shirt was a bit damp as the sun was rising in the sky and the temperature with it.
Which then reminded you to plug in a fan so he could cool off while he ate with you. You set up the kitchen table and plugged in a fan to have it on for him as you both ate your sandwiches. As well as iced lemonade and chopped cherry tomatoes with basil and olive oil.
It was noon on the dot when you opened the door and poked your head out, “Lunch is ready if you’re hungry.”
Harry placed his hammer down and pushed himself up to stand as he nodded, “Thank you. Mind if I use the bathroom before?”
“Harry, you can use anything you want in the house. Feel free to come inside when you please. You don’t have to ask.”
“Well, thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it.”
You felt ridiculous as you paced your kitchen in wait for Harry to come in so you two could begin. The silly thoughts you had in your head about him had your heart lobbing around in your chest a bit too fast. You could just imagine (in the deepest little fantasy spot in your brain) that he’d take one bite of your sandwich and be so overcome by you that he’d have the sudden urge to lift you onto the table, push your dress up, and take you right there, knocking the lemonade down and forgetting all about the cherry tomatoes.
“Wow. This looks excellent. And you’re joining me?” He smiled as he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes on the table.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you shrugged as you pulled a chair out for him, just in the path of the fan, “And if it’s okay, though I could have some with you. Keep you company. Unless I’m annoying you…”
Harry laughed and shook his head as he took his seat, “You’re the furthest thing from annoying, Y/n. In fact, I quite like talking to you. Sit,” he gestured at the spot where you’d placed your own plate with the sandwich. “The fan is a nice touch too. See, you’re just about the sweetest person I’ve ever worked for and it’s only been a few hours.”
You felt the skin on your cheeks heat up as you sat down in the wooden chair and looked at Harry. You really really tried not to look at him like that. But you could feel it oozing out of you as you batted your lashes and tilted your head down, your eyes still on him. You couldn’t help it!
And he saw it clear as day too. Grinning at you he took the glass of lemonade and gulped down about half as he watched you blink your eyes and then remove your gaze from his down to your plate.
“Thank you, Y/n,” he said as he placed the glass down and picked up his sandwich.
“You’re welcome, Harry.”
. . .
Harry didn’t take days off. He was at your house at 8 am sharp every morning and every day you were sure to make him a big lunch and chat with him a bit. But every day you fell further and further into a little spiral of want and lust. It was ridiculous but he wasn’t doing anything to dampen the way you felt.
Like after one lunch, he took his thumb and wiped the mustard from the edge of your mouth so nonchalantly you felt your knees give out and he had to help steady you. But you didn’t miss his smirk. Like he knew just what he was doing.
Or the time when you were walking from your bathroom to your kitchen after a shower and he’d gone out to buy supplies so you thought you were alone but instead walked past the huge window in only your underwear and bra as you were talking to yourself. Yapping away about whatever in your panties as you turned to the sink to wash some dishes but then yelped when you saw him standing there looking in, an expression of surprise on his face.
You had never run so fast in your life up to your room to put something on. And you should have known better. What was wrong with you? Of course, you were quite absent-minded at times, but that was something on another level.
But then it happened again that he saw you in only your skivvies as you traipsed to your bathroom and had forgotten that he was rewiring the second-floor hallway lights.
“Hey, sweetheart… just wanted to remind you that I’m here,” his voice startled you and you balked as you apologized and shut the bathroom door with a loud slam.
“Sorry, Harry!” You apologized again with your heart rapidly thudding behind your ribcage.
You could hear his voice through the bathroom door, “Don’t need to apologize. Doesn’t offend me. Just wanted to remind you I was here is all – in case you weren’t keen on me seeing you in your knickers.”
And Harry was like that. So gentle and thoughtful and there was the tiniest bit of flirtatiousness there too. Which really kept you on your toes around him. Made you feel all hot and gooey. Maybe if he didn’t grin at you the way he did or if he didn’t wipe mustard from your lips or call you sweetheart or compliment you as often you wouldn’t feel that tension there all the time.
But he did and so you did.
Which then led to you working up the nerve to start asking him to say for dinner. He’d sit in your kitchen after using your shower to clean up and watch (you insisted he didn’t help) as you made something for the both of you to eat.
At first, he didn’t stay every evening for dinner because he wanted to get home to clean up and you didn’t want to push and make it seem like you were needy for his company.
But soon, after suggesting he just use your shower, it was every night, and he began to bring a change of clothes so he could clean up before eating. And it felt like you were in some kind of bizarre relationship. Or, that’s what you pretended in your mind anyway. And it was fodder for your writing so you played into the fantasy a little bit.
Of course, there were also all the times you caught him with his shirt off. By the time he began working inside the house summer was in full swing and the place had no central air conditioning so it could get rather hot inside.
And it wasn’t just that you caught him with his shirt off… it was that he caught you staring while he was sans shirt, a sheen of sweat on his chest and at the nape of his neck, muscles flexing and tensing as he labored to make your house gorgeous and well-functioning.
Harry Styles was sexy. He was kind. He was charming and funny. He was smart. And you wanted him. Wanted him in a bad way.
And the days and weeks that drew on that feeling and that lust did not falter. No, it only widened and grew strong, steady thick roots into the ground and became fortified and strengthened with every little bit of contact you had with him. You wanted him so badly you could taste it. Feel it. Smell it.
“Let me get it!” He scoffed at you as he pulled the lid from the pot that was boiling over while you were chopping the tomatoes. You told him to stay seated because you wanted him to rest, that you’d get the boiling pot. He’d worked so hard that day (as he always did) and you knew he must be tired. But he dipped the spoon into the bubbling water and turned down the burner to lower the heat for you.
“I can help, Y/n. I know you’re just being sweet cause you think I’m all tuckered but I don’t mind. Really.”
You smiled as you sliced into the tomato, “Okay. I just want to make sure you’re not working extra. You work so hard every day and I feel like this is the least I can do for you.”
Harry pushed a soft laugh out through his nose as he placed the lid back onto the pot, “The least you could do is pay me for my work. And that you already do. This,” he gestured around the kitchen, “Is above and beyond. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Well, I just… I feel like we’re friends now and feels strange to send you home after,” you glanced at him to see that he was leaning his hip into the counter watching you in that way that he often looked at you. The one that made your skin sizzle.
When he didn’t respond you glanced at him again, “There’s a bottle of wine if you want to share? I think it’ll go really nicely with this dish.”
Harry pursed his lips and nodded, “Trying to get me drunk, sweetheart?”
You chuckled in surprise and shook your head, “Of course not!” Placing the knife down you turned to him, “I was only just suggesting it if you want. I mean… you don’t have to. I didn’t think a glass would be all that bad–“
“I’m teasing. It’s okay. I’ll have some wine with you,” he laughed at the way you suddenly bristled, “Where’s the wine opener? I’ll pour us both a glass.”
The wine turned out to be the perfect accompaniment for the pasta dish you’d made. But you knew it would be. In fact, you’d gone into town the night before to the olive oil and wine shop and selected the wine for that exact purpose after asking the owner what she thought. You weren’t sure if he’d like wine or not but you liked wine and it was a really nice bottle. Which you could afford now that you had a bit of money to your name.
And Harry agreed it was good as he poured you both another glass after you’d both finished your plates.
“So what are you writing anyway?” Harry asked as he leaned back in his chair and set his eyes on you.
“It’s a romance. You wouldn’t be into it I’m sure,” you shrugged as you sipped your wine.
“Why are you so sure I wouldn’t be into it? I love romance.”
“Oh. I guess men aren’t usually my target audience or prospective target audience… I haven’t actually published anything. Sorry… I shouldn’t assume I guess.”
“Tell me what it’s about.”
You cleared your throat and shook your head, “Oh… it’s not done. I���m kind of too bashful to talk about it just yet.”
Harry leaned his elbows onto the table and kept his gaze on you, “Oh come on… Tell me. I won’t judge. I want to know what kind of story you’ve been working on. And then I’ll tell you a secret of my own. How’s that sound?”
You sat your glass of wine down and licked your lips as you let your pupils take in his pretty lips, “Uh… fine…” you sighed and smiled. You wouldn’t tell him the whole thing but perhaps you could just make it brief. “It’s about a woman who takes on a new adventure in life and she meets a man unexpectedly and he helps her kind of navigate her new life… uh… like they have this unspoken connection and feel quite comfortable with one another off the bat. And it leads to a whirlwind romance that ends happily ever after.”
Harry tilted his head to the side and stitched his brows together, “Y/n…” Harry spoke your name as if he were about to scold you, “Give me some detail. What kind of new adventure is this woman taking?”
You looked up at the ceiling and felt your neck heat up. If you told him the premise he’d figure out you were basically writing a story that was a fantasy version of what you and Harry were doing.
But you didn’t want to lie and you could just tell him to drop it but you didn’t want to do that either. So you gulped down the saliva in your throat and laughed as you looked at him, “She inherits a gorgeous old house from a family member with all the money she’d need to hire a man to help her restore the place.”
The pleased look on his face had you looking away from him and down at your empty plate in full embarrassment.
“I see. So you’ve had some real-life inspiration since moving in here then.”
You nodded, a small laugh falling from your lips, “Yeah.”
“And this man helping her restore the old house? He’s the one she has her whirlwind, happy-ending romance with?”
You put your hands over your face, “Oh my god. I mean… yes. It’s just inspiration, though… like it wasn’t–“
Your words were cut off when you heard his chair scrape over the wooden floors and felt his hand at your back, “You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s just a story. Wanna hear my secret now? Level out the playing field a bit here.”
You pulled your hands away from your face and looked at him. He was sitting right next to you, so close you could see the pores on his nose as he offered you a dimpled grin. His hand gently rubbed at your back.
“Level out the playing field?”
His soft grin deepened as he slid his pupils down to your lips, “Yeah. You told me something that’s kind of a secret. If you want me to tell you a secret I will… kind of make it even.”
You swallowed with a nod as he moved his eyes over the expanse of your face and it felt like warmth seeping into your skin.
“See… So here’s the thing…” he paused to make sure you were paying attention, “I’ve been working for this insanely sweet-as-pie woman for a couple of months now. Just falling in love with every corner of the house that I touch… getting fed fruit and coffee every morning, sandwiches in the afternoon with lemonade and a fan to help cool me down, and then lately it’s spread into dinner… just me and her eating together in her kitchen, talking about nothing and everything as the sun goes down and then I go home at night alone and find myself unable to stop thinking about her and the way she laughs and the way I catch her staring at me when I’ve sweat through my shirt…”
You were holding your breath as he spoke and it was making your head fuzzy and your heart thud and your skin light up as he slowly worked his hand up to the back of your neck, fingers grazing the skin… it felt like you were watching a movie play out before you. Like it wasn’t real.
“And I think to myself… what if she feels the same way about me that I feel about her? Ya know? I mean I’ve seen the way she looks at me. That can’t be an accident. And she’s even started to ask me to stay even later after dinner to have dessert and even though my stomach is always stuffed full of the food she’s fed me and I couldn’t imagine eating another thing I’m always tempted to stay a little longer with her. Just to see where it goes,” the pad of his finger worked up your neck as you turned your gaze down to your hand on the table, “To find out if her dessert is just as tasty as everything else she’s offered me. And of course, I have no doubt that it would be.”
You stayed quiet. You couldn’t believe he’d just said all that. Like he was reading your story and knew what you wanted to happen next. Slowly you brought your gaze back to his and spoke shakily, “Harry…”
“You want me to stay for dessert tonight, Y/n?” You could feel the brush of his thumb along one side of your throat and the press of the pads of his fingers gently on the other side, palm flat against the back of your neck. And that question. It meant more than what he said and you both knew it.
“Yes. If you want,” you swallowed and kept your eyes on his face as he lowered his gaze to your mouth again. His hand at the back of your neck tensed and you could feel him pulling at you, just the last few inches needed to brush his lips against yours in a tentative move, allowing you to breach the space completely, moving in and pressing your mouth firmly against his.
And it was everything. Warm and soft and wet and then he inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to paint his tongue over your lips and you responded in kind, using your tongue against his and you felt his free hand pull at your hip. You smoothed your hands up his strong arms and to his shoulders and your heart felt full and light all at the same time.
When you felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck under your fingers he shifted and pulled at you, both hands gripping your hips and bringing you up out of your chair and placing your bottom on the sturdy wood of the kitchen table, the plates pushed to the side and your nearly empty glass of wine wobbled in its spot as he kept his mouth over yours and he fit himself between your legs.
“Always wearing pretty skirts and dresses for me, aren’t you?” His lips traveled down your jaw and pressed over the skin on your pulse point, “Been teasing me this whole time…” slow pecks down to your clavicle and then back up the other side of your neck as he planted his palms flat onto the table next to your thighs, “Just know you wanted me to see you in your panties all those times… acted all innocent like you didn’t know you were giving me a show…”
You gasped when you felt his teeth gently scrap at your jaw before pushing plush pink lips over the same spot, “Harry…” you breathed out his name.
“Mmm… love how you say my name too,” he spoke as he moved his mouth back over yours and it was game over. Teeth and tongues, and wet lips with moans as he slid a thumb under the hem of your dress to glide up your thigh. He pressed himself in further, making you lay back on the table, your saltshaker and napkin holder tipping over as he ran his hands up your sides.
“Is this what you wanted? All this time, Y/n?”
You moaned as he began to pepper his kisses down your neck once again, your body lighting up with every touch and whisper into your skin.
“Yes…”
“Yeah,” he looked up at you with his hands firm around your waist before he moved them down to push at your skirt, shoving the material up your thighs, “And what about this? Is this what you want too?”
You pushed yourself up by your elbows and nodded, “Yeah…”
Harry grinned as his fingers found your panties and he tucked his middle fingers into the band, “Wanna give me my dessert now?”
His light jade eyes were sparkling as he waited for your nod of approval, the small yes you peeped out had him tearing your panties down your legs, left to drape off your left foot as he pushed your thighs apart and moaned, “It’s the only dessert I’ve wanted since you first started offering. Smells so good too,” he dropped his mouth to the inside of your plush thigh and ran his big palms upward on the underside of your thighs to press your legs back and you gurgled a moan as you watched him dip down and tongue at your pussy, his wet muscle slicking upward from your entrance to your clit and then repeated, and repeated, over and over as he kept his eyes on yours until you were so slick he was barely making contact with your skin… your arousal had coated your pussy and his tongue in a thick layer.
“Fuck me… sweetheart… you’re gonna give me a toothache with all this sweet juice…” he spoke mindlessly as he lapped at you. He brought a hand down to your pussy, running his fingers through your crease as he pressed his tongue to your clit and kissed it, bringing it delicately into his mouth with a gentle slurp.
“Ahh! Harry!” You reached down to pull at his hair as your back arched up and your head fell back into the wood.
The moment Harry felt your grip on his hair he spread your pussy with his fingers and drove a digit inside, curling it in and brushing against the spot you loved to focus on when you fingered yourself, making your body shiver.
Your table was rattling from the movements you were making, the lewd act causing the wooden legs to shift and give slightly as Harry ate your pussy and moaned at your taste.
“Gonna let me have some every night now?” His words came out watery, and slurred as he continued working to get you off, “Gonna let me take care of you the way you’ve been taking care of me?”
You cried out in a gurgle when you felt another finger press inside as he flattened his tongue over your pussy, “Yes!”
Harry grinned into your pussy. Seemed all you could say at that point was a combination of yes and Harry. He loved how you were responding to him. Like it was all you ever wanted.
When he felt you roll your hips up and grind into his mouth he pressed your thigh down and dug in harder, flicking his eyes up at you from time to time, watching the way your chest rose and fell heavy, how your lips were dropped wide open with your eyes closed.
“Y’shaking so hard, sweetheart. You can come if you need to,” he slid his fingers into the last knuckle and back out as he spoke, lips grazing your wet clit as he did so, “You’ve been so good to me, you deserve a treat too…”
Your brain was in a fog, a haze that made it hard to hear or make sense of his words as your orgasm tiptoed its way through your tummy and down into your core, slowly sliding its way through your organs until it burst out of you and your limbs stiffened as you pressed Harry’s face into your pussy and moaned his name so loudly Harry figured it was a good thing you didn’t have any neighbors close by to hear what could sound like someone being attacked.
But in a way, you were being attacked. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his fingers ravaged you through your orgasm, never letting up or stopping until you gasped and pushed at him as you sat up with wet lips, burning cheeks, and dark eyes, “Oh god, Harry!”
The dirty smirk on his face was pure sex as he pulled his fingers out of your sticky pussy and slid you from the table, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to your room, his mouth on yours.
You began to squeak in protest as he lifted you and started up the stairs and you were certain it was too much weight or that he’d drop you but he was solid and strong and moved with ease, holding you tight under your bottom with one hand and his other at your mid back until he laid you on your bed with a bounce.
Harry began to pull his jeans down his strong legs and you watched as he undressed. It was the first time you’d seen his bottom half but just as his chest and shoulders and abs did not disappoint, neither did his masculine, well-muscled thighs and buttocks. The man was in incredible shape, thanks to good genes and hard manual labor you assumed.
When Harry peeled his shirt off over his head, the curls were pushed upward and he was left standing in your bedroom looking like a man ready to ransack your body with wild hair, tight boxer briefs hiding an erection that looked quite sizable.
Silently he kneed onto the bed between your legs and pushed your dress out of the way, “Let me see you, sweetheart. Is that okay?”
You helped him bring the dress off over your head and immediately reached up to unpluck your bra, the clasp at the front that once undone had your tits bursting out.
“Holy, fuck…” Harry dove down to your breasts, lapping and squeezing at each one and you placed your fingers back into his hair as if it were their new home. The length was perfect to grip onto.
He pushed himself up as he cupped your tits together and kept his eyes on your flesh and nipples with mouth dropped open, “Goddamn, sweetheart…” He dipped down again, wetting the skin all around your breasts with his lips and tongue until you bucked upward and your wet pussy kissed his belly button.
Popping off from your nipple he looked down at you underneath his large frame and smoothed his hands down your sides and over your tummy then to your hips. He thumbed at your clit and looked up at you, not an ounce of humor on his face, “I can eat your pussy all night. Want my mouth again?” He licked his lips.
“Want to feel it, Harry…” you breathed out.
“Want to feel my mouth again?”
You moaned and slid your palm down his chest and felt the bit of hair on his pecs tickle your skin, “Your cock.”
“Is that right? Sweetheart wants her handyman to stuff her full tonight?” Now you could see the small smirk on his face as he looked at your tits and then back up to your eyes.
“I want you to stuff me full, Harry. I want to feel it.”
Harry wet his lips again as he moaned at your words and tore his boxer briefs down his thighs and to the floor.
He sat back onto his haunches, eyes on yours as he held himself at his base. His thick ruddy tip smooth and ready to pierce into your cunt had you groaning, “Please.”
“You wanna be my girl, Y/n? Be mine? Cause I don’t fuck unless I know I can keep coming back. I don’t do casual, sweetheart.”
You shook your head, “I don’t either. I’ll be yours. Your girl.”
“You sure? You want to date a small-town handyman, make me dinner every night, and get fucked into this soft bed until you’re passed out?”
“Oh my god, Harry,” you moaned and nodded, “Yes. Please…”
Harry scooted in toward you, and his massive cock was just throbbing before your eyes. That thing was going to do some damage to you but you would happily receive it. Take it every night like he said, looked forward to feeling how much he’d fill you up and how deep he’d get, how much it’d ache when he pounded into you.
His hand slid behind your neck, fingers wrapping around the back side as he hovered over you, “Pussy’s so little, sweetheart. Might need to hold on at first okay?”
The dimple popping into his cheek told you he was playing with you. And while, yes, he was quite large, that bulbous tip and thick shaft would definitely be felt entering you, there was no question it’d tuck nicely into your slippery walls.
You gripped his biceps as you kept your eyes focused on his. He glided his fat tip through your pussylips with the slushy wet sound of your arousal coating his cock, drenching his leaking slit until he was sticking the crown at your opening, his lips parted as he pressed into your muscle and penetrated you slowly.
“Mmm… fuck me, sweetheart,” his voice was hiked up a notch in a whine as he clenched his teeth upon entry, “Y’mine now? Yeah?”
You nodded and whimpered, “Harry… oh god I’m yours…”
Harry nodded with you, his eyes focused on your face as he opened you up, and spread you apart inch by inch. When he’d gotten in halfway he reared himself back, that wide tip sliding out of your cunt just before he pressed himself back in, nudging in deeper. The intrusion was all-consuming. Harry’s hard cock was long and thick. But of course, it was. A man like him with a body like that… But it was his demeanor that had tipped you off at the beginning that he had a big dick. That personality that oozed with natural confidence.
“Oh, my fuck!” You wailed as he drove into you again, this time with a bit of force that had his hips grinding into yours.
“Yeah? It’s big in there isn’t it? Need me to be gentle?”
You could just see it in his eyes. He did not want to be gentle. The man above you, fucking into you was holding himself back. He was taking it easy for your sake. But you wanted him to ruin you. Wanted your pussy wrecked by that thick cock, needed to let him have his way with your body so he could get off.
“No… fuck me like you want. Harry…” you whimpered his name as you cupped his jaw, stubble scraping your palm as he slowly thrust into you, “Make me yours. Show me how you do it.” You wanted to feel his strength. Wanted to know what it felt like to have him completely destroy your pussy.
Harry let out a deep groan then hissed as he ground into your cunt, his cock grazing that achy spot deep inside that you knew was gonna be bruised once he was done with you, “Don’t want to hurt your cute little pussy, Y/n. Can already feel I’m in as deep as I can go.”
“Harry, make me yours. Please.”
“Fuck…” he gritted out as he adjusted his knee placement, lifting himself with his thighs and readying his position to rail into you like you wanted. He pulled your hands up and placed your palms onto his lats as he leaned over you, “Hold on here. Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
You gripped your fingers into the muscle of his back and felt him flexing as he drew his long cock back and bucked in with one harsh thrust. The wind nearly knocked from your lungs as he did it again. He was still taking it easy. Long heavy strokes into your guts, hips slapping into yours in thuds until he got into a rhythm and your high-pitched moans told him you were loving it.
Soon your bed was loudly creaking, the mattress springs bouncing heavy and his balls were whacking into your bum. Wet patting of skin colliding and heavy pants filled the room.
“Like this?” He gritted as his pelvis repeatedly smashed into your clit filling your veins with damp mushy heat as your pussy clamped over him.
“Fffffuuu…” you cried out. Not a word but an answer. You did like it. Every time he filled you to the brim with his fat cock and your pussy parted for him, spreading apart to accommodate his hefty girth it brought you closer and closer to the precipice.
Harry choked out a moan when he felt his own orgasm edge toward the brink slowly. The way you gripped around him, the perfect warm and wet hole attached to the sweetest thing he’d ever met made his heart thrash in his chest harshly.
He couldn’t believe that he was getting to fuck you. That you promised to be his. That things had worked out the way they had. Because he’d started falling for you since day one. He had been impressed that you wanted to salvage the old house and to him, that meant you were already special. A city girl with a heart of gold who didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. And when you told him you ripped out some of the rotted boards from the porch on your own his cock twitched in his pants. The image in his mind of you doing that was hot.
And as the days and weeks went on he learned more about you and he became obsessed with making everything in the house just perfect for you. He often daydreamed of living in it with you. Getting to see you every day after work with a kid or two running around. While it was too early to think about all that, he couldn’t help it. Harry was a sincere and deeply emotional man who prized deep connections and love over everything. He’d never been able to do casual.
He was brought back to the moment when your face began to screw up in pleasure and your punched breaths began to grow into loud moans with every snap of his hips.
You, on the other hand, were thinking of nothing but that big cock sliding through your insides and ramming into your depths, your tummy aching at the stretch and the way he filled you so completely. Your brain was empty as he sliced through you, fucking you down into your soft blankets as his chest and arms and shoulders tensed.
“Ooohh, sweetheart… like that yeah? That what you need? Right there?”
Your arousal had dripped from your hole and drenched your ass and the blanket under you, your gushy wetness slopped out with every push of his cock into your pussy.
Harry could feel your thighs quivering and shaking as you started to arch into him, loud bursts of moans belted from your lungs on each plunge.
Harry was losing his mind at the noises you were making and how good you felt squeezing around him, “Gonna have to move myself in here so I can have you like this every day… look at you taking me so well… fucking creaming all over me…” his string of consciousness continued as he railed into you deeply and you felt your insides snap suddenly, your orgasm erasing all working thoughts from your brain.
“Yes! Fuuuuck! Yes! I need you!”
“Need you too, Y/n. I fucking need you baby… come all over me, show me how good that is… fuck… fuck…” Harry clenched his jaw as you squelched around him, your slippery hole clenching so hard you nearly pushed him out but he was stronger as he continued to pound into you, bringing you through your ecstasy until he couldn’t go another moment without coming.
He began unloading into you, heavy, thick pumps of come filled your insides as he coughed out a groan and stilled his hips with your pussy milking him, pussy fluttering and squeezing every drop from his long shaft. You’d both lost your good senses in that moment. No thought about what was responsible or reasonable, it was only about how good it felt to be connected, new lovers enjoying one another and not giving a damn about the consequences.
Harry’s mouth pressed into yours and he moaned sloppily against your wet lips, bodies throbbing and shaking and lungs gasping for air as you wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed in bliss.
Harry’s heart was going wild as he dropped his chest to yours and licked into your mouth, one final push of his cock into your cervix for good measure, pressing his come deeper yet.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out in a mumble as his lips still smeared against yours.
“I know…” he responded with his eyes closed as he continued kissing you.
Your fingers wound into his hair and he rolled you both to your sides, still connecting and simmering and reeling.
“I think now you have to stay,” you parted from the kiss and looked at him with a small smile. Hoping he’d agree to it. You weren’t ready to let him go home yet.
“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. You’ll have to forcibly remove me from you now.”
You giggled and cupped his cheeks, “Good. Means you aren’t gonna be leaving then.”
Harry’s soft smile and his big hands on you felt like home. More than anything had before. The old house was your home, yes, but ever since Harry walked into your life you were a changed woman.
“So you’re mine now? Can I call you my girlfriend?”
You puffed out a laugh through your nose, “Of course. Long as I can call you my boyfriend.”
“Of course. Been dreaming about it since I first met you.”
You licked your lips, “Yeah? Guess we both wasted a lot of time beating around the bush didn’t we?”
Harry shook his head, “Nahh… we didn’t waste time. Every moment spent with you was exactly what was supposed to happen. Got to know you real well. Got to learn all kinds of things about you. I feel like the way it happened wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”
You nodded and bit your lip. He was probably right. The time you two spent chatting and flirting and getting to know one another slowly made you both open up and feel more comfortable in each other’s presence. And it all led to that very moment right there in your bed.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”
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fratboy!harry x you
hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)
the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.
wc: 5.8k
tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)
cherry sucker
Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag.
While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp.
“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print.
“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.
“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.”
“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?”
“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.”
“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.”
“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head.
“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head.
“Know of him, don’t know him though.”
“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.
“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.”
“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors.
Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed.
“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man.
Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester.
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.
“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod.
“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.
“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace.
“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.
The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.
It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed.
“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her.
“Think I’ll pass.”
“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe.
“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes.
“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.
The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t.
“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.
“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand.
Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground.
He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment. He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity.
So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment.
“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?”
A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you.
Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.
“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look.
“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then.
“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.
“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile.
“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.
“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat.
“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be.
“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.”
“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario.
“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.
“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon.
“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.”
“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat.
“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face.
“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.
“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling.
“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him.
“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity.
“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips.
It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside.
By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock.
He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.
“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you. He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure.
“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips.
“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap.
“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say.
“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you.
“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs.
“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin.
“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”
“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down.
“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.
“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?”
“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows.
“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.
“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside.
“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you.
“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh.
“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you.
“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment.
“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.”
So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper.
“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder.
“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up.
Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.
“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you.
“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade.
“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.
“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.
You slept in his bed that night.
The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus.
Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe.
“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.
“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.”
“I won’t be.”
He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.
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camping [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]
synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry and Y/N leave the air base to go on a camping trip in July and their feelings are all over the place.
word count: 13.2k (!?)
contains: friends to lovers, opposites attract, violence, nightmares, flirting, smoking, fluff, smut (breeding kink, size kink, she's on top, cockwarming *if you squint*), forced proximity
this is part 2 of the aviator, you can read part 1 here
. . .
“Leave me alone Harry!” Y/N stormed several paces in front of him, hugging her arms around herself to try and keep herself warm.
“Birdy, c’mon now, it’s not what y’ think it is.” Harry kept his distance behind her but had been following her home since she stormed off after she’d caught him with her housemate, Nancy.
“Quit calling me that! And will you stop following me?” She spun round and he immediately froze in his steps.
“Promised I’d walk y’ home,” He shrugged, “Not gonna let y’ walk home in the dark alone.”
“I’d probably be better off,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms.
“Will y’ let me explain?” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but he carried on talking, “I won’t quit following y’ if that’s what y’ gonna say and the view of the back of y’ head is just as pretty as the front so there’s no way y’ gonna stop me. I just… Will you let me explain? Please?”
Y/N scoffs like she can’t believe what she’s hearing right now. What would it take for him to take a message and leave her be? “You’re not used to hearing the word no are you?”
“I respect it but doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. God, especially not with you.” Every part of him seemed serious. Y/N’s shoulders dropped and he took it as a sign to continue, “Me and Nancy we have history tha’s for sure,” He started and the words made Y/N’s chest ache, “But we only slept together a couple times before Christmas tha’s all. She came out and found me smoking and I realised she was a ‘lil drunk. I tried to pull her off me but she wasn’t having it, said she saw me outside with y’ and got upset.”
Y/N frowned, unsure of whether to believe him or not, “Listen, I know you’ve heard things about me but-” He dug his heel into the ground and chuckled lightly, “I ain’t ever felt the way I did back there when I kissed y’ Y/N and I’m not jus’ saying that.”
Y/N felt some of the anger dissipate from her body, replaced by pure frustration. She hadn't come to Offutt to get tangled up in a mess with a man she barely knew, yet here she was. Nancy's revelation about having her sights set on a man hit Y/N like a ton of bricks. If she had known it was Harry, she might never have kissed him in the first place. She hardly knew Harry beyond their brief interactions and the hearsay from her housemates. How could she trust him? Yet, despite her doubts, there was one undeniable truth: the kiss they had shared lingered vividly in her mind. The taste of peppermint and cigarettes still clung to her lips, a tangible reminder of their brief encounter. It was a moment that now intertwined her with him in a way she wasn't expecting.
Y/N huffed, “And what? I’m just meant to believe you now. Take your word for it and run into your arms and kiss you again?”
“That’d be nice, yeah.” Harry smiled, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
Y/N shook her head, trying to process everything Harry had just said. Despite her frustration and confusion, there was a part of her that wanted to believe him. She knew deep down that she couldn't deny the chemistry they shared during that kiss, but she also couldn't ignore the uncertainty punching at her gut.
"Harry, I... I don't know what to think," Y/N admitted, her voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "I want to trust you, but it's hard after everything that's happened and what’s been said. I-I don’t know you that well is all."
Harry stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I understand, Birdy. And I don't expect you to trust me blindly. But hey maybe we could start as friends, get to know each other better before anything else, if that would make y' comfortable."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, considering his suggestion. The idea of starting as friends seemed more sensible, given the circumstances. "Friends?"
"Yeah, friends," Harry confirmed a hopeful glint in his eyes. "No expectations, just getting to know each other without any pressure."
Y/N nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright, I like that idea.”
Harry grinned, relieved that she seemed to be willing to give him a chance. "Well, you need more of ‘em.”
Y/N’s smile disappeared, “I do not! I have plenty of friends.”
“The girls at the nursery don’t count,” Harry smirks, “And neither does Elise.”
“Whatever,” Y/N muttered, spinning on her heel to continue her journey home. She heard Harry’s footsteps jogging up to meet her and was surprised to feel his jacket being placed over her shoulders.
Harry put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Y/N’s heart stuttered, “Friends don’t do that you know.” She grumbled, pretending to act grumpy around him in hopes it would hide the fact that she was most definitely swooning inside.
“Oh? I do it with my friends all the time. Sometimes I kiss them on the lips too, we can try if y’ want-” Y/N looked up at him, glaring, “Alright then, another time.”
Y/N let Harry walk her the remainder of the way home, feeling a little more at peace with the fact she would be welcoming him into her life, even if it was just as friends for now. She hoped it would be enough to get to know him and eventually, she’d trust him enough to allow their relationship to blossom into something more and hopefully sometime soon because when Harry had left her on the doorstep of her house, she knew she’d be dreaming of that kiss every time she looked at him.
Y/N closed the door as gently as she could, pressing her forehead against the wooden frame. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding before walking into the kitchen where Nancy was standing, “How’d you get home so quickly?” Y/N asked, unable to meet her hard stare.
“Harry must have taken you the long way home.” She shrugged pushing her chair back from the table, the legs of her chair scraping against the tiled ground.
“I-I didn’t know Harry was the guy you were talking about Nancy,” Y/N said truthfully.
“Would it have made any difference?” Nancy asked, a bite to her tone.
Y/N sighed, “All this was never my decision. Harry asked me to the dance, I-I didn't know it was going to be such a big deal.”
“Harry loves attention from any girl who bats her eyelashes and twirls her hair.” Nancy glared, “You don’t make the exception.”
Y/N straightened her shoulders, “What if I do?” She wasn’t going to allow herself to be belittled by another woman over a man she had just met.
Nancy snickered, “Are you that entitled?”
“Harry’s smart enough to make his own decisions Nancy and I’m not going to be involved in whatever petty game you think this is. Not only is it up to him to decide who he likes but it’s my decision too and if he’s not with anybody then I can decide whether I should be allowed to get to know him or not.” Y/N declared.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, “I’m not trying to compete with you but I’d be careful if I were you. If you’re planning on standing so close to the fire prepared to get burnt. Those Styles boys have their things going on. Harry hasn't the faintest idea of what to do with a girl outside of the bedroom. I've known him long enough for that.”
“Maybe you don’t know him that well.”
“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged, “Maybe you can tell me all about it when you realise he’s not all he says he is.”
“Why do you want him if you have no faith in him?” Y/N asked.
“I said I had my eye on him, not that I planned on settling down with him. Every girl wants to sleep with him and not only because he’s Offutt’s best pilot, he’s the only man who knows what he’s doing.” Nancy stands from her chair, “I won’t compete but I don’t particularly enjoy being proven wrong.” She moved past her, leaving Y/N standing in the kitchen.
. . .
As winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Y/N and Harry's friendship seemed to blossom with the seasons. They had developed a type of bond that neither of them had with anybody else and through it they learnt more about themselves and each other. Ever since the night they began their relationship, there was never a moment where Y/N wasn’t seen with the brunette aviator walking beside her.
Even Harry’s brothers had come to enjoy Y/N's company. Somehow she had taken on this maternal presence within their family dynamic that none of the siblings had ever really had before. Sonny had taken a particular liking to having Y/N around, enjoying the free time he had now that Y/N would sometimes volunteer to put Elise to bed in the evenings.
Along with Harry’s brothers, also came Y/N’s housemates Molly and Patsy. She had become good friends with them too in the last few months and now she finally had her own little girl group to hang out with (they’d often include Elise in that group too).
The group had become their own little, dysfunctional family on Offutt.
Even though their friendship was meant to be the start of something more, Y/N and Harry hadn’t spoken much about that night at the dance since it had happened. Even with Harry’s flirtatious teasing from time to time, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that something had happened between them like this friendship had created a strange liminal space between them that held so many questions. She loved the current dynamic - the comfort everyone shared, even amidst their occasional bickering. It made her wonder if this was how it was supposed to be, and perhaps Harry thought so too.
However, her feelings for Harry continued to grow stronger with every passing day. She would dream of the kiss they shared and wake up with a strong ache in her chest at the idea that it would never happen again. Every day she tried to coax herself into talking to him about how she felt and every day she’d get distracted or put off by doubts and the voice in the back of her head warning her, telling her enough time had passed that maybe Harry didn’t have feelings for her anymore which is why he never bought them up.
It was July now and the girls were sitting eating breakfast in the kitchen. Y/N was nibbling on a piece of slightly burnt toast as Molly rambled on about how busy her day was going to be down at the hairdresser with her hair rollers still in her hair.
Opposite Y/N at the table sat Nancy, who had hardly spoken since waking up. She was dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly curled, and her uniform immaculately pressed. The tension between the two girls lingered from the dance night. It was clear Nancy was prepared to do anything for Harry's attention, even if he didn't see it. While Nancy seemed distant, Y/N tried to keep things friendly, despite the awkwardness between them. They had to live with each other after all.
Y/N had seen Nancy and Harry alone together a few times and even if it filled her with an insatiable amount of jealousy, she wouldn’t allow herself to get involved with whatever went on between them. This wasn’t a competition she was taking part in, her feelings were her own and so were Nancy's. What mattered was her own relationship with Harry because it had slowly become the most important thing in her life.
The front door burst open, Sonny’s voice boomed down the hallway, “Good morning ladies!”
“Is anyone ever going to teach those boys how to knock?” Molly grumbled, standing from the table to lean against the kitchen counter, “I oughta start locking that front door before I go to bed.”
Y/N looked down to hide her smile as three grown men, dressed in overalls and white t-shirts walked into the room, one of them holding the small toddler in his arms. “Give me the baby!” Patsy launched from her chair and reached for Elise, smothering the girl in kisses.
“Can I have a turn, Patsy?” Sonny asked, batting his eyelashes playfully.
“You wish,” Patsy glared.
“Morning Nancy,” George grinned, only to receive a curt nod in return, “Good morning George, y’ sure are looking mighty fine in tha’ uniform of yours,” George remarked, his voice slightly mocking, delivered in a high pitch to tease her.
Nancy stood from her seat, glaring up at the tall brother in front of her, “Good morning George, do you mind getting out of my way? I’ve got work to do, unlike some people.”
“How could y’ say that? I’m always working,” He argued.
“Cigarettes and arm wrestling during work hours do not count as working.” Nancy picked her bag up from under her chair.
“Know y’ like watching though darlin’.” He smirked and Nancy scoffed, shoving past him and leaving the house.
“Y’ oughta be careful with that one George,” Molly smirked, taking out a cigarette and offering one to him.
“She’s all good,” He shrugged, his eyes on the seat Nancy had been sitting in.
Y/N’s smile dropped when someone snatched the piece of toast she was eating from her hand. She looked up and was met with green eyes looking down at her, a lazy grin on the face she saw every day, “Hi birdy,” His voice was always deeper than usual in the mornings
“Hi Harry,” Y/N grinned.
He grabbed the empty chair that Nancy had been sitting in and lifted it from the tiled floor to sit next to her. His eyes flitted around her face, and the corner of his lips turned upwards, “You’ve got jam-” He reached his thumb out and wiped away the jam from the corner of her lips. Y/N’s cheeks tinged pink, “There y’ go.”
“Thanks,” Y/N murmured, looking away from his intense gaze.
“No problem,” He smirked, “Y’ look beautiful by the way.”
Harry said the same thing almost every morning and Y/N never failed to blush whenever he told her the compliment. “I only woke up thirty minutes ago, I haven’t even run a brush through my hair.”
“And you still look beautiful. It’s unfair birdy, truly it is.” He sighed, shaking his head dramatically.
Y/N giggled, “You’re such an idiot.”
“So what brings you boys here so early? Ran out of food back home?” Molly asked, reaching for Elise since apparently, it was her time to hold her.
“We’re going off base with some of the guys later to the town to buy camping gear for the trip,” Sonny explained, taking a sip of black coffee from Patsy’s mug.
“What happened to the stuff from last year?” Molly quirked a brow, “It was perfectly fine when we left it.”
Harry reached for Y/N’s hand and mindlessly played with her fingers as people spoke. George shrugs, “There’s more of us going this year so either way we need more tents.”
"What are you talking about?" She asked, turning to Harry for an explanation.
All eyes turned to her, then to Harry, their expressions puzzled. George's frown deepened. "You never told her?"
Y/N's gaze remained fixed on Harry, waiting for his response as he dropped her hand onto his lap.
"Every year on the last week of July, a huge group of us go camping down at Harpers Lake," Sonny explained. "It's a five-hour hike, and we camp out for two nights. We're all going this year, and we thought Harry over there already told you about it, but clearly he didn't."
Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought Molly would have told you," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
Y/N's eyes darted around at everyone's faces as they looked at her expectantly, "I-I don't know if I'll get time off at the nursery," Y/N stuttered, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her.
"Hey, I'm sure someone'll cover for you," Harry reassured her with a shrug. "If you don't go, I won't go either."
"Harry," she huffed, unable to resist the warmth in his eyes. "What about Elise? Who will take care of her?"
"Elise is coming, of course," Sonny piped in. "You think the Styles go anywhere without each other?"
Y/N glanced at Harry, her heart softening at his earnest expression. He gently picked up her hand again, squeezing her fingers lightly as if to persuade her to come with them. Harry's gaze held hers, his voice soft but determined. "If you’re worried about skipping work, it’ll be fine. We'll figure that out together, Birdy. I promise."
“I hate camping,” Y/N confessed, the corner of his lips quirking.
“But y’ haven’t camped with me yet.” He smirked as if doing anything with him was the solution to everything.
Y/N’s shoulders sagged, “Okay, fine.” She relented, falling into their persuasion. Though the idea of camping was her worst nightmare, being with Harry off-base seemed to make it bearable.
Eventually, everyone left to start their day of work. Y/N took Elise into her arms and made her way down to the nursery, “Y/N!” Harry called, she turned and saw him running up to them from down the road. “Y’ not mad at me are you?”
Y/N frowned, “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Y’ know,” He stood straight, scratching the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or about to say something sincere, “Because I didn’t tell you about the camping trip. I was meant to but every time I’m with y’ all the things I plan to say just seem to slip from my mind.”
Y/N’s face softens, “No I’m not mad at you Harry. I mean, I wish I could have found out sooner, but if you say it’ll be fine, I’ll believe you.”
Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Y’ believe me huh?” He took a step forward until he stood directly in front of her.
Y/N’s heart stuttered at the proximity, “Y-yeah, I do.” She murmurs.
Harry’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Y’ might be the only one.” He whispers his breath minty from the gum he was chewing on.
His eyes darted to her lips and then back up again. Even though they were outside, Y/N felt the oxygen slipping from the space around her until a tiny, chubby hand swatted Harry’s face out of the way, “No!” Elise yells and starts to ramble.
Harry’s expression shifted, his features softening with amusement. He grabs Elise’s hand and starts pressing kisses to the inside of her palm, “What do y’ mean no? Y’ don’t like it when I speak to my best friend? ‘S that because you’re my best friend Elise?” Harry teases, pretending to bite her small hand.
Y/N giggles, “It seems I’m always competing with somebody for your attention.” She jokes but Harry’s smile falters.
“Y’ don’t need to do that,” He murmurs, “Y’ too special to me to do that.”
Elise carried on rambling as Y/N remained silent, surprised by Harry’s words. That classic, flirtatious grin reappeared once more on Harry's face as he pressed a quick kiss to Elise’s cheek and then Y/N’s too, “I’ll see you later, baby girl.” He said to Elise.
He walked backwards, eyes fixed on Y/N, “I’ll see both my best girl’s later!” He winked and then turned around.
“Your brother is stupid,” Y/N said to Elise.
“Ha, Ha!” Elise pointed at her brother who disappeared around the corner, calling him the name she always called him since she couldn’t say his full name properly yet.
“Ha Ha indeed,” Y/N sighed, making her way to the nursery.
. . .
The camping trip had been a tradition in Offutt for the last ten years or so. Harry had been with his brothers ever since he had come to Offutt. He mostly enjoyed it for the fact that he got to spend time away from the Air Base. He didn’t do very much other than smoke cigarettes and maybe sleep with one or two people if he felt like it.
This time though felt different. Harry had never been this excited about a camping trip before, especially not with Y/N. It had been ages since he anticipated anything, but the thought of spending two entire nights with the girl who had completely transformed his life was exhilarating enough to have him willingly sleeping in a tent out in the wilderness.
They were into the final hour of the hike to Harper’s Lake. The sun was beating down on their faces and Y/N and Harry were way behind the rest of the group. Y/N had been huffing and puffing ever since the halfway point of the trail. It had kept Harry rather amused during what was often a long and boring walk.
Harry walked in front wearing a white vest and cargo trousers, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips and a silver dog tag around his neck. Y/N was walking behind him, beating bushes with a big stick as she walked by them.
“Y’ keep beating up those bushes back there darling and they’ll start shouting back to y’.” Harry smiled to himself as he heard her mumbles. “You dawdling back there?”
“No,” Y/N snaps, “I do not dawdle thank you.” Her feet were slipping. She didn’t have decent shoes to wear and Harry had already had to stop twice to put bandages on both her knees which was probably why they were so behind from the rest of the group.
“Why couldn’t we just fly? You’re a pilot Harry, can’t you go get us a plane?”
“Y’ want me to get a military plane to fly us to a lake so that y’ don’t have to get all hot and bothered 'cause you’re walking, is that right birdy?” Harry holds back a laugh.
“Well, I don’t see the point in flying planes if you’re not gonna use them.” She mumbles.
Harry stops and turns around to look at her. She’s wearing a shirt that’s too big for her and shorts on her small legs. He let her borrow his flight cap so she didn’t get sunburnt but it was too big for her head so it covered her eyes. “Are y’ asking for a lift up the hill?”
Y/N fell silent, her gaze drifting past him to the peak of the hill. She nodded quietly. Harry chuckled, dropping his bag to the ground. Turning around, he squatted and gestured behind him, arms outstretched. "Hop on, birdy."
“Are you sure? What if I'm too heavy.” Y/N says.
“I’m only offering once so I’d make the most of it if I were you.” He teased and waited for her to jump on his back.
He heard her feet tread along the ground before stopping behind him. She put her body weight onto him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Y’ won’t drop me, will you? Because it’s not gonna be funny if you do.”
“Never,” he promised, lifting himself off the ground. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist and he picked up his bag off the floor. “How’s the view up there birdy?”
“Pretty,” she said, her lips close to his ear.
“I bet,” he said to himself before tracking up the hill.
The lake glimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by birch and willow trees. Y/N had never seen something so beautiful before as she looked over Harry’s head to see where they’d be staying the next few nights. Her feet hit the floor as Harry released her from his grip. There were around thirty people from the base who had come along on the trip and were already deciding where they were going to set up their camping spots.
Y/N glanced around to spot her friends only to find them already bickering with each other in a shaded spot away from everyone else. Patsy and Molly were sharing a tent, while Sonny and George were setting up theirs with Elise. Harry had his own tent, and Y/N had bought a separate one as well. “Hey Patsy, have you seen my tent?” Y/N glanced around the floor where everyone had thrown their bags.
“No, I thought you would have taken it.” Patsy shrugged.
“Me too,” Y/N huffed, looking through her backpack to see if she had packed the small tent she had bought.
“Have you lost it?” Molly asked. Y/N frantically shoved some of the bags out of the way, hoping to spot it somewhere, until the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.
It was sitting on the couch in the living room of her house, five hours away from where they were camping.
“You left it at home?” Sonny burst out laughing, Y/N’s cheeks flushing red.
“It’s not funny Sonny,” Patsy whacked him on the shoulder, “Where’s she meant to sleep?"
“With me.” A voice spoke, and Y/N turned around to see Harry standing with aviator sunglasses covering his eyes.
“W-what?” Y/N stuttered as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Well unless y’ wanna sleep with Elise, Birdy, the only other option is with me.” He shrugs as if it was no big deal that he was offering her to sleep in his one-man tent.
“I-I can sleep with Elise,” She noticed how no one was saying anything or coming up with other ideas for her sleeping arrangement. She could have sworn she saw her two housemates giggling in the corner of her eye.
"And I could sleep with Elise too, but you know why I don’t?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's because all three of my siblings seem to have inherited a gene that I missed out on. Trust me, Birdy, you don’t wanna sleep in a tent with a snoring swing band the whole night."
Harry reached out and gently tugged her hand, “We’ve slept in the same room before.”
“Yeah but you slept on the floor,” She crossed her arms, trying to think of any other way she could sleep without having to share a small space with the guy she had feelings for. Y/N glanced around at her friends who immediately went about fixing their own tents as if they hadn’t stopped to watch the whole ordeal. She sighed, “Fine.”
Y/N brushed past Harry. He quickly snatched off his hat she was wearing and placed it on his own head, grinning, “It’ll be fun,”
By the time they had set up the tent, it had dawned on Y/N exactly what she had agreed to. The tent was barely large enough for one person, let alone two, and with Harry's muscular frame, she couldn't fathom how they were meant to sleep without being practically on top of each other.
As Y/N unravelled her sleeping bag, Harry’s head peaked through the entrance, “A few of us are borrowing bikes to head to the nearest gas station to buy things for the barbecue if y’ wanna come.”
Y/N nodded, “Just give me a second and I’ll be right out.” He nodded and paused as though he wanted to say something else before shaking his head and leaving. Y/N released a sigh and pushed back her hair wondering how she even got into this mess in the first place.
Harry was standing by two bikes, holding Elise in his arms, “A few of ‘em already went ahead.”
“I didn’t know Elise was gonna be here,” Y/N cooed and pinched the two-year-old's chubby cheek. Harry’s eyes warmed before he placed her in the basket of his bicycle. “Is that safe?” Y/N frowned.
“Course it is,” He shrugged.
Soon they were riding side by side with Elise squealing in the basket of Harry’s bike, her small fingers gripping onto the front of the basket as the wind blew through her hair. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as she watched the two year old laugh and scream with excitement.
Eventually they pulled over into the gas station. Y/N held Elise as Harry grabbed the things they needed for the barbecue, “Do y’ wanna ice cream Elise?” Y/N gasped, taking her to the freezer to pick out an ice cream.
Elise squealed and babbled incoherently as she picked the most colourful ice pop in the whole freezer. Y/N picked out two for herself and Harry to have since it was so hot out and they still needed to ride back to the campsite again.
They sat under a grouping of trees, Elise inbetween Harry’s legs as he helped her eat her ice pop. He’d have to wipe her chin every now and then with how sloppy she was when eating, “There y’ go baby girl, that ice pop ain’t going anywhere,” Harry chuckled as Elise gripped the ice pop in two hands.
Y/N smiled to herself as she watched the two of them interact, Elise’s adorable antics continuing to amuse them both. She couldn’t help but think about how strangely normal this all felt. Despite the little time they had known the Styles’ siblings, it felt like they had known each other for much longer. The ease with which they connected, the laughter shared between them—it all felt so natural, as if they were meant to be together in that moment.
Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s face with a hint of a smile on his lips, “What’s going on in that head of yours Birdy?”
Y/N smiled, “Nothing, I’m just happy.”
Harry looked surprised, “Y’ are?”
“Yeah,” She nodded, “I am. Are you?”
Harry thought for a moment, “Yeah Birdy,” He grinned, dimples popping, “I am.”
Their exchanged smiles lingered for a moment longer before Harry stood up, “We should probably start heading back before the sun goes down.”
“Yeah,” Y/N sighs, she could have stayed right there in that moment for a little longer but she knew they needed to get back to feed the others.
They picked up their bikes off the floor and began their journey back, stealing glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Y/N’s heart fluttered everytime he caught her eye and looked away bashfully.
After eating and staying out to talk to her friends, Y/N was already ready for bed and wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She was wearing her pyjamas and an eye mask on top of her head. She wanted to make sure she was the first person in the tent so that she could be the first one to claim her space.
She tried to relax but her heart was racing when she heard Harry’s voice from outside as he said goodnight to his little sister in the tent next door. Y/N randomly picked up a book she had bought with her and pretended to read as the entrance to the tent lifted open and Harry crawled in.
He was in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tattooed torso completely bare, “Normally I’d wear less than this but since the lady’s present,” He smirked.
Y/N scoffed, “How kind,”
There was nothing but the rustling of his sleeping bag as he crawled into the tight spot next to him. Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt his arm right next to hers as they lay side by side in such close proximity. She immediately sat up, looking down at his relaxed state, “What?” He frowned.
“Can’t you move over a little?” She huffed, even though they both knew there wasn’t exactly anywhere to move.
His head turned, “Where exactly?”
“I-I don’t know!” She exclaimed.
Harry smiled as though he were amused by her franticness, “Oh c’mon Birdy, I don’t bite. I mean I may get a little bit touchy in the night but that’s no fault of my own.”
“Harry,” She sighed.
His expression faltered. "Fine," he muttered. Reaching beside him, he retrieved the blanket he had stowed away. Sitting up, he rolled it up and placed it between them. Y/N settled back down, the blanket now forming a barrier between them. Though it sacrificed some space, she found herself feeling a bit more at ease with the added distance.
“Thank you,” She sighed.
“Mhm,” Harry huffed.
A silence settled between them. Y/N, exhausted from the hike, found herself unable to drift off to sleep quickly. Her mind raced as she listened to the man beside her breathing softly. "Y' trust me, don't you, birdy?" he whispered into the darkness.
She thought for a moment, “More than I did before.”
“But not completely?” Harry’s voice seemed sad, almost defeated.
She said nothing, wondering what she could say. Of course she trusted him, he had been nothing but good to her these last few months and proved to her he wasn’t what most people said he was. Even if he was a flirt and enjoyed attention from time to time, he was loyal to the people he held close in his life and she adored that about him.
“You’re getting there,” She whispered but the truth was he was already there. She just didn’t know if she trusted herself.
Y/N woke up in the middle of the night when she felt something jolt next to her. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of her surroundings. As her eyes adjusted, she realised that Harry was stirring restlessly, his breathing ragged and uneven.
“H-Harry?” Y/N sat up, the sleeping bag falling to her waist. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm to shake him, “Harry wake up,” She urged, voice laced with concern.
She noticed how he had begun to shiver, his arm covered in goosebumps. Y/N reached to put her hand gently against his forehead and hoped that her touch would provide some warmth to his shivering body. “Harry, you’re dreaming, it’s just a dream.” She tried to coax him out of his sleep without scaring him more than he already was.
Harry's eyes snapped open, wide with fear as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, and Y/N could see the remnants of tears glistening in his eyes.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Y/N murmured soothingly, her heart aching at the sight of Harry's distress, “You just had a nightmare that’s all.”
Harry's breathing gradually slowed as he focused on Y/N's voice, the warmth of her presence calming whatever dark thing that lurked inside of him. With a shaky exhale, his head fell, “Fuck,” He hissed, “Did I wake y’ up?” He looked up at her, his eyes tired and sad. Y/N warily nodded her head, “M sorry, M so sorry.”
“Hey, Harry, it's fine. It’s okay.” She reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders, she could feel a thin layer of cold sweat on his back as her palm pressed against his shoulder.
Harry took the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume as if it would be enough to bring him back from whatever memory he was trapped in. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she whispered words of reassurance. She gently stroked his hair, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body.
“It was real,” Harry whispered.
“W-what?” Y/N pulled away, still holding him.
“M-my old man left me out in the cold one night when I tried to stop him from hurting my Mama. He kicked me out in the backyard and locked the door behind him like I was some old dog.” He spat the words out, full of anger.
Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, “He hurt you?”
Harry exhaled shakily, as though he was trying not to cry, “Y-yeah he did Birdy, real bad.” The way he said it made Y/N believe it wasn’t the only time his father had hurt him.
Y/N swallowed back her tears, her throat burning. She held his face in her hands and forced him to look right at her, “Y’ might have to be big and brave for your brothers and Elise but y’ can be whatever you want with me.” She murmured, “I won’t let anything hurt you, Harry.”
His eyes softened, something flashed in them as Y/N moved her face closer to kiss his cheek, tasting the saltiness of his dried tears. “God where have y’ been all my life birdy?” He whispered, their lips inches apart.
“It doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, “I’m here now.”
Y/N made space for Harry to lay back down, but he couldn't seem to let go of her. She noticed how he held onto her hand whenever she tried to move away. So, she removed the rolled-up blanket between them and unzipped the tops of both of their sleeping bags. Once they were lying next to each other, she placed the blanket on top of them for extra warmth.
Harry’s arms reached out for her and he didn’t even ask before he was holding her close to his chest. She could hear the beating of his heart as her ear pressed against it. “Y’ not afraid are you?” She asked, peering up at him to see his eyes closed gently.
“No, that's just how it goes whenever I’m around you. Y’ get used to it after a while, don’t worry.” He murmured.
Y/N’s heart seemed to pick up pace until it matched his own, “Okay.” She whispered and fell asleep in his arms.
The next morning, Y/N awoke in the embrace of Harry who was still fast asleep. She thought back to last night and how she had never seen him so afraid before. She pressed a kiss to his cheek when she sat up and tried to leave the tent without making much of a noise.
She reached for her sweater and pulled it over her torso so she wouldn’t get cold from the morning air. “Good morning sunshine!” Molly grinned, “How’d your first night with the pilot go?”
Patsy giggled, “Yeah how’d it go?”
Y/N bit back a smile, “It was nothing like that and you know it.” She said but they weren’t accepting it as an answer.
George smirked, “I better not wake up an uncle by tomorrow morning.”
Y/N’s mouth gaped open, she hit him on the arm playfully and grabbed a carton of orange juice from the crate, “I’m two months older than you so I’d be careful!” She glared.
“Ha! Ha!” Elise grinned, her mouth covered in yogurt as she stood and stumbled over to Y/N’s tent.
"Good morning, baby girl," Harry's raspy voice greeted, a hint of strain evident as he lifted Elise into his arms, “Y’ sure are a little mess, madam.” He chuckled.
Y/N tried to resist the urge to look at him as everyone greeted him with a good morning. She settled into one of the camping chairs, folding her legs beneath her, but soon a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sun, “Good morning Birdy,” His voice was deep and raspy.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, “Morning Harry.”
“Where’d y’ go? Left me cold in tha’ tent this morning y’ know?” Multiple snorts came from the group around them.
“I-I was-” She didn’t know what to say and she was pretty sure her face was the colour of a tomato.
“Wake me up next time, yeah?” He smirks, leaving her to grab some of the coffee Molly had made.
“Oh, so there’s a next time huh?” George winked.
Y/N cleared her throat, feeling flustered from the interaction. "So, what's everyone doing today?" She attempted to change the subject, wondering if there would ever be a moment on this trip where she wouldn't be embarrassed by something she wasn’t expecting.
. . .
Y/N didn’t see Harry for the rest of the morning as the girls got ready to go swim in the lake for the afternoon. Due to the tent mishap, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten her bathing suit as well but luckily found it at the bottom of her bag.
Molly was already in a blue, plaid halter one-piece that tied around her neck and Patsy was wearing a yellow one with a bow on the front. Y/N stepped out of the tent after getting changed, “Oh no, you can’t wear that.” Molly was the first to comment.
Y/N frowned, looking down at her plain black and white striped swimsuit, “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Molly pulled the cigarette from her lips, “Honey y’ look like a crosswalk in upstate New York.” Patsy snorted.
“It’s not that bad,” She huffed, reaching for the suntan lotion only for Molly to snatch it from her grasp.
“Honey, this trip isn’t just a relaxing break for our pilots - it’s also the chance for us ladies to get a little something out of it. Think about it, all those men do is work and all we do is sit around waiting for some excitement. Y’ think Patsy and I want to camp in tents? Y’ think we want to hike up hills? No of course not, most of the ladies here come because they want a little fun. They want to flirt and be romanced by a pilot who we might never see again.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, “Really?”
“Really,” Patsy nodded.
Molly brushed past her and walked to her tent to pull out something from her bag, “Y’ lucky I’m an overpacker.” She unfolded the material and held up a red, polka dot swimsuit with a sweetheart neckline and a scoop back.
“I can’t wear that!” Y/N almost gasped, she couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone saw.
Molly rolled her eyes, “You don’t think we’ve all seen you with Harry? He’s head over heels for you! Put this on and I guarantee you’ll be thanking yourself for forgetting that tent.”
Y/N hesitated, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. The thought of Harry's reaction to seeing her in such a swimsuit sent a flutter of anticipation through her stomach. With a playful roll of her eyes, she took the swimsuit from Molly's outstretched hand. "Fine, but only because you're relentless."
Harry was already by the lake with his brothers and some of the other pilots working on Offutt. He was lying on a towel with his sunglasses on and swimming trunks hanging on his hips, smoking a cigarette. “Oh shit, I didn’t know Nancy was coming on this trip,” George said, taking a swig of his glass bottled beer as he sat down. Nancy was sitting with a group of friends, lounging on the dock, “She sure is something in that swimsuit, H. Would y’ look at her- pure sunlight she is.”
Harry chuckled, “Yeah, sunlight, sure. Think you’ve had one too many of those beers George. Why don’t y’ go over and talk to her?”
“Are you kidding me? She spews venom every time I try to talk to her.” George says, “And she likes you more anyway. I don’t know why though, everybody knows you’re with Y/N.”
Harry’s ears perk at the mention of her name, “What are you talking about? We’re not together.”
“Uhuh, keep talking and your nose will get bigger than it already is,”
Harry sits up to lightly hit his brother but he pauses when he sees his mouth drop open, “What are you staring at?” Harry turns around, following George’s gaze.
That's when he notices Molly and Patsy approaching, both clad in their swimsuits. Yet, it's not them who have captured the attention of not only George but seemingly everyone else as well. Y/N walks in between them in a swimsuit that reveals the soft skin of her thighs and the curve of her breasts from the low neckline. Her hair is pinned up and tied with a red ribbon, her smile so bright it overtook the light from the sun.
Harry felt a rush of breathlessness as he removed his sunglasses, unable to tear his gaze away from Y/N. "Have mercy," he muttered to himself, rising from the ground and striding over to the girls, with Sonny and George trailing behind him.
The girls laid their towels out on the ground as the boys were walking over, “Looking swell Patsy,” Sonny’s eyes were fixed on her cleavage.
“My eyes are up here Sonny,” Patsy spoke, monotonously.
Harry ignored everyone else as he stepped in front of Y/N. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. He felt his cock stir in his swim shorts as she licked her bottom lip, sending a jolt of heat through him. Harry knew he needed to get a grip on himself before things got out of hand.
He glanced around and noticed eyes staring at the girl in front of him, “Hi Birdy,”
Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “H-Hi Harry,” She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Are you saving this swimsuit for someone or?” He smirked, wanting to get a rise out of her. He liked seeing her cheeks turn red whenever he attempted to flirt with her.
“M-Molly and Patsy wanted me to wear it. I wasn’t sure at first but they thought it looked good. I feel like it’s a little too much, what do you think? Do you think it’s too much?” Harry’s eyes softened as she rambled nervously to him.
Sensing her self-consciousness, he put her at ease by saying, “Y’ look beautiful Y/N,”
She took a deep breath, “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure about anything in my life,” He murmured, reaching his hand out to hold her own. Y/N offers a shy smile.
“I don’t know about you all but I’m just about melting from how hot it is. Are any of you going in the water?” Molly asked, receiving a nodding of heads in response.
“What do y’ say we go for a swim huh?” He smirks.
Y/N suddenly gets all embarrassed again, “H-Harry, I need to tell you something,”
“What’s wrong?” He was immediately concerned.
“The thing is, I don’t know how to swim all that well.” She confessed, “We don’t have anything like this back home so I never really got the chance to learn.”
Harry snickered, “How’s about I teach y’ hmm?”
She purses her lips and then nods, “Okay Harry.”
They walk hand in hand to the dock. Harry notices Nancy’s glare as they walk past her and gives Y/N’s hand a small squeeze in assurance. He’s first to jump in the water, submerging underneath and swimming up to the surface.
Y/N stood on the edge of the dock with her toes hanging over the edge, “Oh I’m not so sure about this Harry,” She said, uncertain as she realised how deep the water was.
“It’s alright darling, I’m right here,” He holds his arms out, ready for her to leap right into them, “I’ll catch you before your head even goes underwater, wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty hair now would I?”
“No,” She says and he knows she wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying, too busy worrying about jumping in.
“M right here Y/N, you can do it. Get in the water darling, c’mon.” He coaxes her and thinks she’s about to do it but she hesitates.
“I can’t! I really can’t Harry.” Y/N shakes her head.
“C’mon Y/N, you can do it!” Molly and Patsy cheer for her, already swimming in the lake with Elise in their arms.
“Alright Birdy, on the count of three,” Harry’s smiling even though he knows it’s hard for her. “One…”
“I can’t!” She bends her knees slightly.
“Two…” He shouts, people clapping and cheering now.
“Harry seriously!” She giggles, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Three!”
“I can’t do it,”
“Birdy get in the water!” He yells and then laughs because she’s laughing too at her own silliness, “I’m sorry daring, will you please get in the water.”
Y/N closes her eyes, bends her legs and screams, using one foot to leap into the water. Harry’s already there waiting to catch her and drag her up. It’s almost instinctive as he grabs her hips and feels her legs wrap around his waist beneath the water. Her head emerged and she quickly wrapped both her arms around his neck. “That’s m’ girl,” He cheered, everyone joining in as Y/N emerged with a smile.
“It’s cold,” She laughed, water coming out her nose.
“It’s not so bad,” Their faces were close, if he moved any closer he’d almost be kissing her.
“Are you gonna teach me how to swim now?” Y/N asked, her teeth biting her bottom lip.
“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged, grinning, “I kinda like having y’ like this.”
Y/N splashed him with water, “What if I drown?”
“I won’t let you,” He said as though it were a matter of fact.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “But what if I’m eighty and you can’t swim anymore but I wanna swim instead.”
He knew she was being silly but he liked the fact that she considered him to be a part of her life for that long. A spark of hope flashed within him, “I’ll probably just swim with y’ anyway. I mean it would be a sight to see Birdy but wherever you go I go.”
Y/N huffed, “Fine if you won’t teach me to swim, you’ll just have to carry me around in the water.”
“Sounds like a dream,” Harry joked, “Where to first Birdy?”
She pointed to her two friends who were keeping Elise entertained in the water and Harry grinned, understanding her silent request. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he scooped Y/N up into his arms and waded into the water towards Molly and Patsy, Elise's delighted squeals echoing around them.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake, they reluctantly made their way back to shore after spending the whole afternoon swimming. As it was the last night, people had been preparing for a bonfire - a tradition created to commemorate the end of the trip. Sonny and George were already sitting with Nancy’s group of friends as they waited for the bonfire to be lit, the other’s going to join them.
Elise was napping in Patsy’s arms as they sat together, wrapped in towels and talking. Harry pulled Y/N down to sit next to him on one of the logs, pulling her into his side. He noticed she was shivering as the air turned cooler and silently reached for the sweatshirt he had brought with him to pull over her head. She thanked him quietly in return.
Eventually, the evening air was filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the sound of laughter as they settled in for a cosy night by the fire. Someone pulled out a guitar, and soon the sound of music filled the air, blending with the sounds of voices and the crackling of the flames.
Harry excused himself from Y/N's side for a moment to join his brothers and friends for a smoke. Despite the distance, he couldn't help but steal glances at her now and then, his heart warming at the sight of her. Each time she took over from Patsy in looking after Elise as she slept, a sense of peace settled within him.
It had always worried Harry that Elise wouldn’t have another woman in her life to provide the things she needed that Harry and his brothers knew nothing about. There was something profoundly comforting about seeing Y/N with his baby sister. It wasn't just the way she cradled Elise with such care, or the gentle sway of her movements as she rocked the sleeping girl. It was the way Elise seemed to instinctively trust her, snuggling closer to Y/N as if she sensed the warmth and safety she provided.
Harry turned his back on her momentarily to extinguish his cigarette in the dirt. But when he faced his friend again, his attention was drawn to someone approaching the girls. It was a man he recognized, someone Nancy and her friends had been conversing with for most of the day. He observed as Y/N smiled, but he could sense her discomfort as she subtly retreated while he continuously tried to get closer to her.
Harry began to slowly walk towards them until he could make sense of some of what the stranger was saying. The closer he got, the clearer it became that the man's words were laced with suggestive undertones, and Harry's protective instincts surged to the forefront.
As he approached, he caught Y/N's eye, and he could see the silent plea for help in her gaze. “Hey fella, I think you’ve had enough,” Harry said, his tone firm as he confronted the guy.
The thug sneered at Harry, clearly not appreciating the interference. "Mind your own business, pretty boy. The lady seems to be enjoying my company just fine," he retorted, a smug grin on his face.
Harry’s jaw clenched, “I don’t wanna have to ask y’ again to leave her alone.” He warned, his voice laced with a steely edge.
The man stood up and Harry tried to keep calm when he saw the frightened look in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t going to fight in front of her and he wasn’t going to wake his sister who was now in Molly’s arms. Although Molly, as though sensing there was going to be a fight, backed away and bought Elise somewhere away from the campfire.
Harry looked behind the man who was a few inches shorter than him, “Was he bothering y’ birdy?” He pointed at the thug who was trying to intimidate her.
“H-Harry-” Y/N stood and tried to reach for him but he held up a hand to stop her.
People were watching, the noise had quietened down as a thick tension fell over the camp, “I just wanted to talk to the pretty bitch over here. You know she was asking for it the way she was wearing that swimsuit all day.” The sick thug chuckled.
“You think that’s funny huh?” Harry faked a smile, stepping forward until he was right up close to the man, “Y’ know, my old man told me that when a guy makes comments like that to a young lady, it means something.”
“Oh yeah? What does it mean?” The thug spoke, as though he was in on some kind of joke Harry was making.
Harry’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Their cock’s too small to find.” With a swift movement, he clenched his fist and swung, the impact landing squarely on the man's jaw. The thug stumbled back, stunned by the force of the blow, and Harry wasted no time in delivering another punch, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“Harry!” Y/N gasped as Patsy screamed in shock.
People gathered around to watch as the two men delivered punch after punch at each other. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears as she watched Harry get hit repeatedly, his entire face covered in blood.
“George!” Y/N ran over to him, “Y’ gotta stop it,”
“What am I meant to do? That guy’s huge!” George exclaimed although he also looked worried for his older brother.
“Please,” Y/N begged, “He’ll kill him.”
George hesitated for a moment, torn between the instinct to protect his brother and the fear of intervening in the dangerous fight. But the sight of Harry, bloodied and battered, spurred him into action.
"Sonny, help me!" George called out to his younger brother, who immediately rushed to his side. Together, they managed to pull Harry off of the thug he was punching, their combined strength enough to separate Harry from him.
Breathing heavily, Harry glared at the man lying on the ground, spitting out blood from his mouth as he did, before turning to face Y/N. Despite the pain etched on his face, his eyes softened as he reached out to her. "I'm okay," he assured her, his voice hoarse.
“Y-you’re hurt,” She was in shock, unable to believe this was real and not just some nightmare she was having.
“I’m okay baby,” He heaved, spitting out more blood onto the floor.
Before the man could get up and try to hit him again, Sonny, George and Y/N led Harry away from the bonfire. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of Harry's injuries, her hands trembling as she gently touched his bruised cheek. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, one of his eyes already beginning to swell.
They managed to lead Harry away from the chaos of the campfire, guiding him towards their tents where they could tend to his injuries in privacy and ignoring the gossip that was whispered amongst everybody. Y/N caught sight of Nancy who stood up and looked over at Harry with concern etched on her features.
“Put him down here,” Y/N pointed to one of the logs for him to sit on and ran to grab a first aid kit she had packed in her backpack as a precaution and a wet cloth to wipe his face with. Harry groaned at the impact, hunching forward and clutching his ribs in pain.
Y/N knelt in between his legs in front of him and opened up the kit, “You two should head on back, make the most of the rest of the night,” She told them as she placed the wet cloth to remove the blood from Harry’s face.
“Are you sure Y/N?” Sonny scratched the back of his neck, “We can help if you want.”
“And do what? All I’m gonna do is fix his wounds and then go to bed. I don’t want you two to miss out and ruin the rest of the trip.” It was only ten thirty so there was still plenty of time to spend at the bonfire. “The girls are leaving Elise with one of the families and I’ll pick her up in the morning. Everything is fine, you two go and have fun.”
Harry hissed as she applied disinfectant to his cuts, “Well alright,” George said, still unsure, “But you’ll come get us if something goes wrong?”
Y/N nodded, trying her best to smile, “I promise I’ll come get you.”
They soon left and Y/N was left alone with Harry writhing in pain, “I’m sorry Y/N.” His voice came out a whisper.
Y/N’s jaw clenched, “That was silly, y’ could have easily diffused the situation without delivering the first punch.”
“He was asking for it and I won’t allow anyone to talk to y’ that way. I saw how scared you looked when he was talking to you. God Y/N,” Harry exhaled heavily through his nose, “I think I saw red - I’ve never been so angry before.”
Y/N sighed, “I know you were just trying to look out for me but you frightened me and I-”
“I did?” His voice sounded hurt, taking Y/N aback.
“A-A little,” She admitted, “I thought you were gonna die.”
“I can’t die, you know that,” He tried to crack a smile but his face hurt too much, “I never want to scare you, you know that right?”
Y/N said nothing, “Hey,” He cupped her face in his hand, “I never want to scare you, ever.”
“I know,” She shrugged him off, “Just don’t ever do that again.”
Harry looked at her with a furrowed brow, unsure what to think of how she was feeling, “Alright,” His shoulders dropped, “I won’t.”
Harry thought better than to interrupt her as she tended to the cuts and bruises on his face and hands. His eyes stayed fixated on her as she focused on fixing him up. He was pretty sure his pupils had carved themselves into hearts with how much adoration he had whilst looking at her. Her hair was wavy and tangled from swimming in the river, she had caught the sun a little so her face was tinged red and she was wearing his sweatshirt that was much too big for her small form.
“I think that’s as good as it gets,” She whispered, eyes darting across his face.
As she was about to pull away, Harry tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. Y/N looked down as he curled his fingers around her wrist and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pulse point, “Thank you,” He murmured, doing his best to look at her despite his black eye.
Y/N helped Harry into the tent, trying to make it easy for him to lay down comfortably without feeling any pain from where he had taken a few hits on his torso. She crawled in beside him and lay on her side to look at him, “Do you need anything?” She kept her voice quiet.
Harry shook his head, “Just you here is fine.”
Y/N swallowed, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
A silence fell over them, the tension felt palpable now that they were alone together. There was so much that needed to be said hanging in the space between them - things that had been brushed off or put to one side all so they could build trust. But perhaps as their trust in each other grew, they began to question their own judgement and feel uncertain about themselves.
“Y/N,” Harry whispered, breaking the silence. He rarely said her name now, often replacing it with the nickname he had given her, so hearing it from his lips sounded sweet like a term of endearment.
“H-Harry,” She said back, unsure of what he was going to say.
“My old man used to hurt me and m’ family a lot,” He started, Y/N’s heart hurting for the man in front of her and his younger siblings, “When I grew older, I started t’ fight him back and I got so good at it. Not that that’s something to brag about but… I-I guess when I see the people I love, like my Mama and my brothers and Elise, in pain, I just get so angry. I-it’s like I see red every time and all I can think about is how much I want to hurt the cause of their pain.”
Y/N stayed quiet, allowing him time and space for his moment of vulnerability, “But I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as I had been tonight. It’s like I saw you flinch and I swore I could have killed him.”
“Harry,” Y/N gasped, wanting to reach out for him.
Harry turned over, wincing at the pain but needing to look at her as he spoke, “I ain’t stopped thinking about that kiss since it happened. When I sleep rough, I picture it to help me get back to sleep. Y’ seem to settle something in me that no one else can and… I don’t know what to do about it.”
Y/N’s heart thundered against her chest like it was trying to leap out, “Watching y’ with my family, being with y’ every day - it is the one good thing in my life. You are the one good thing in my life, the only thing that is wholly and completely mine. I don’t know how to quit y’ Birdy, I’ve been trying because I thought y’ wanted to do this whole friends thing for a little longer but I think about you when I sleep, when I eat, when I’m a hundred feet in the air - Hell, I even think about you when I’m holding Elise, imagining you being there and holding her and how much I want that with you.”
Y/N felt her eyes burn with tears, “Y-you do?” She said her voice barely above a whisper.
“I do darling,” He shuffles forward and reaches a hand out for hers under the blanket.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” Y/N confesses, feeling the weight on her chest ease with each word she spoke, “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you since the moment I saw you.”
“You haven’t?” Harry questioned like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I haven’t,” Y/N affirmed, “Somehow it seems you’ve set up camp somewhere in there,” She placed a hand over his heart, “‘S a little annoying really,” She giggled.
Harry grinned, his head moving closer to hers. Y/N’s smile fell when she felt his breath blow across her face. Her eyes darted down to his lips, “Are we going to kiss again?” She asked.
“Do y’ want to kiss again?” He murmured, his lips feathering across hers.
“I do, so badly, I do.” She was almost begging.
“Well alright then,” His voice husky with desire. With that, he closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips with his.
The kiss ignited something within them both. Months of longing and watching from afar, releasing into this moment. Harry's lips moved with an urgency as Y/N sighed deeply in relief, their mouths melding together. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as if to bridge any remaining space between them.
Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Harry's hair as she deepened the kiss, her heart racing with every beat. The world around them faded into insignificance as if they were the only two people remaining in the world and they were all each other had.
Y/N’s hand went under his shirt, feeling his warm body beneath her fingertips as she slid them up his torso. Harry gripped her hips hard enough to move her on top of him. Her bare legs were between his and he remembered she was still wearing her swimsuit beneath her sweatshirt. “Harry,” She whispered, breathless. She was tugging on the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to take it off.
He shot up and she pulled his shirt over his head. Y/N marvelled at his muscular, tattooed body, she’d seen it plenty of times before but she could never seem to get over how perfectly built he was. Harry was eager to kiss her again, but Y/N hesitated. Her fingers went to the hem of her sweatshirt, and she pulled it over her head. Then, she did something that left Harry breathless.
She pulled the straps of her swimsuit down, leaving her upper body completely bare. Harry had never seen something so ethereal. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends falling at her supple, rounded breasts, her nipples hardened from the cold air. Harry felt his cock stir in his shorts and he was pretty sure Y/N knew what was happening from the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted.
“We don’t have to...” Harry wasn’t sure where this night was going to go but Y/N stopped him.
“I want to,” She whispered, “I want you.”
“Y/N,” He murmured, unable to believe this wasn’t all a dream.
“Shhh,” She shushed him and pressed her lips against his again. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together.
Harry tossed the blanket to one side with his lips still attached to her. He pressed kisses down her neck, sucking and biting on her skin leaving a mark that would tell him in the morning that this was all real. Y/N could feel the bulge in his boxers beneath her as she straddled his lap. She rolled her hips against him, Harry groaning against her lips in response.
Y/N gasped when Harry thrust his clothed cock against her core. She could feel the dampening of her swimsuit as her pussy grew wet the harder he ground against her, “Harry,” She breathed, his lips ghosting against her jawline, “I want you to put it in me,” She said, her desire overruling everything.
“Yeah?” His voice came out raspy, “Y want my cock in your pussy darling girl?” He looked up at her with hooded eyes.
Y/N immediately nodded, desperate to feel him inside of her, “Take me out then baby,” He ordered.
Y/N swallowed and tugged on the waistband of his shorts, her fingers fumbling to pull him out. Her eyes widened when she saw the outline of his cock against the fabric. She reached into his shorts and felt his cock beneath her hand, wrapping her fingers around it only to realise how big he was as she pumped her hand up and down. Harry clenched his jaw, his head falling back as he released a moan.
“Gonna take off the rest of that swimsuit baby?” Harry murmured, playing with the nylon fabric. Y/N nodded and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug the swimsuit off of her body. Harry’s mouth fell open as her wetness touched his thighs. “Look at tha’ making a mess all over me hmm?” He tutted, his eyes looking down at her bare, pretty pussy. “So pretty, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I need you so bad Harry,” Y/N mewled, her head dropping forward onto his shoulder as she went back to pumping his cock. He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her.
“I know baby, I know.” He cooed.
He helped her a little by pulling his shorts down from his hips. He almost died when he saw how much bigger his cock looked in her smaller hand, “Will it fit?” Y/N asked, eyes looking up at him big and round.
Harry glanced at her pussy, “Dunno baby, y’ pussy’s so small,” He sighed, “Might hurt y’”
“But it’ll fit, I know it will,” She insisted because if he refused she’d probably pass out.
“Oh yeah?” He looked at her with a cocky grin, “Look at you, you’re so desperate for it.” He reached out to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth as she looked at his aching length.
His lips went to her ear, feeling her shiver beneath his touch as he breathed, “Show me.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open.
“Show me how it fits in y’ baby,” He muttered.
Y/N swallowed and nodded, exhaling shakily. She sat up on her knees, lifting her hips and shifting herself so her pussy was directly above Harry’s cock. Harry waited patiently, moving his hands to her hips and giving them a soft squeeze in encouragement. She grabbed the base of his cock in her hand and lowered her hips until she felt the tip nudge against her hole. She gasped when she lowered her hips a little further and the thick crown of his cock squeezed through the opening of her core.
“There y’ go,” He inhaled, “Tha’s my girl.” Y/N nodded, unable to think as his cock stretched her open inch by inch in the most delicious way, squeezing and pulsing against the walls of her pussy the further it entered her.
“‘S it all the way in yet?” She whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut.
Harry looked down and groaned when he saw half of his cock submerged in her tight pussy, “Almost baby,”
“Okay,” She mewled, sinking further onto his cock until he was so deep inside of her. She whined, her head dropping forward when she felt the tip of his cock nudge the walls of her cervix and his balls pressed against her ass.
“Fuck baby,” Harry moaned, pressing a longing kiss to the top of her head.
“Y so deep,” Y/N’s words came out slurred. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, getting used to the feeling of his cock inside of her. “M ready now,” She whispered.
“Yeah? Y’ sure?” He wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was in complete control of the situation.
Y/N didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted herself up and then sank back down on his cock, feeling it rub against the walls of her sopping, wet cunt as she did. She repeated the action, her head falling backwards, back arching; she had to grip Harry’s calves to keep her from falling back. She was seeing stars every time she bounced on his cock, “It feels so good Harry,” She whimpered.
Harry grabbed her waist, helping her move up and down on his cock, “I know it does baby,” He moaned, “Does it feel good knowing ‘m so deep? Only I can touch y’ that deep baby, fuck,” He drawled.
Y/N pushed herself up and removed her hands from his calves to his shoulders, using them as an aid to help her move up and down. Harry moved his head forward and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting. He pressed spongy kisses down the center of her breasts, “Can y’ feel me right here darling girl?” He whispered, pressing his hand to her belly where his cock protruded every time she sank back down on him.
“Please Harry,” She whined, unsure exactly what she was asking for but so consumed by the intense pleasure she was feeling.
“Please what?” His lips ghosted against her jawline, sweat coated their skin from how warm the tent was. He tugged on the ends of Y/N’s hair, “Y’ want me t’ put a baby in y’ is that what you're asking?” Y/N groaned, lips parting as the air left her lungs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? Can feel you clenching round m’ cock baby. Darling girl wants me to put a baby in her?”
Harry thrust his hips harder into her when he received no reply, “Want me to fill you up and put a baby in you hmmm? Do y’ like the idea of having my baby inside of you? Making y’ belly all round and swollen and having everyone at Offutt knowing that baby inside of you is all mine.”
“Y-Yes Harry,” She gasped.
“Yeah? Y’ wanna make me a daddy baby? Be m’ perfect mama waiting on me with your perfect pregnant belly?”
“Mhm,” Y/N choked, his words making her heart pound. Her eyes began to water, feeling overwhelmed with how good she felt.
“Do you want me to cum inside of you?” He kisses her chin, “Know y’ ready to cum baby. Y’done so well.” He moves his hand in between them and starts to rub circles on her clit. Y/N’s gasping for breath, whining and writhing on top of him.
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” She says over and over again like some sacred prayer, a stray tear falling from her eye.
“I know baby, I know you’re tired and ready to cum.” His lips puckering to leave a kiss where the salty tear once was on the side of her cheek. He could feel the burning in his belly as his orgasm began to build. He would have cum ages ago if he wasn’t so set on cumming with her. He could feel her cunt tighten around his cock, squeezing him harder. “Cum with me darling.” He murmured.
Y/N felt the coil in her belly burst as she clenched around his cock as she came. Harry’s quiet moans filled the tent as his cum painted the walls of her insides. He makes sure his whole cock is all the way in her even though he knows it won’t do anything, the thought of filling her up with his seed makes him cum even harder.
Y/N collapses into his chest, her head falling on his shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut and her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath from the intensity of her release. She feels Harry’s heart thumping hard against his chest, his hand smoothing up and down her back as he lays his forehead on her shoulder.
Y/N whimpers when Harry moves and shakes her head, “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” She asks, tiredly.
Harry kisses her shoulder, “For as long as y’ want.”
“Thank you,” She murmurs, feeling as though she could fall asleep exactly like this. His cock was still inside of her, she could feel the stickiness of his cum dripping on her thighs, but it felt so good to be so full of him.
“C’mon darling girl,” Harry kissed her cheek, “Time to sleep.”
Y/N shuddered when Harry removed his cock, her pussy pulsing around nothing whilst she felt his cum gush out of her. Harry brought his fingers to her thighs and began to push his cum back into her sensitive cunt. Y/N inhaled deeply, shuddering as she felt his fingers stuffing her empty hole with his cum.
He gently laid her down beside him, her body placid. He grabbed the blanket and laid it across her body to stop her from getting cold, “Your bruises,” Y/N whispered, cupping his cheek in her hand and brushing her thumb over the bruise on his eye.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” He told her, he’d completely forgotten he was even in pain after she admitted his feelings for her.
“Promise?” She whispered.
“I promise,” He kissed the tip of her nose and then laid down next to her, wrapping her in his arms. She hooked her leg around his waist and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you Y/N.” He whispered.
Y/N smiled, he could feel her lips curving against him, “I love you too Harry.”
Y/N woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Memories of last night flashing through her mind like each individual scene from a movie reel. Her whole body was filled with warmth, her core aching from the acts she had partaken in just last night.
She turned over, expecting to see Harry still asleep beside her only to find an empty space. With a frown, she sat up and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, searching for her underwear and the sweater she had borrowed from him yesterday to cover herself up.
She crawled out of the tent and glanced around, trying to find the man she had confessed her feelings to. She hoped he was somewhere smoking a cigarette or maybe decided to go for a swim before they had to make the hike back to the Air Base later on.
Y/N stood on shaky legs and wrapped her arms around herself. She caught sight of Sonny and Patsy walking over with a bucket of fresh water. Y/N waved and tried her best to smile at them even though the feeling of dread began to swarm in the pit of her stomach. Sonny’s head turned in her direction and his expression faltered , “Hey guys,” Y/N said, her voice slightly raspy, “H-Have any of you seen Harry this morning?”
The uneasy silence that followed, punctuated by the grim expressions on Sonny and Patsy's faces, already made Y/N regret ever asking the question in the first place.
p.s y/n is on birth control just wanna make that clear heh
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“Reconciliation”
ex-dom!Harry x you
Word count: 8.5k
Warnings: dom/sub relationship, spanking, daddy kink, slight praise kink, size kink, quick breeding kink and unprotected sex
Plot: You and Harry used to be in a dom/sub relationship and you’re seeing him for the first time in six weeks since you ran out on him after something startled you.
⌑⌑⌑⌑
You felt his stare on you from across the room as you indulged in a conversation with your friend, Cassidy. You had tried your best to avoid him and his piercing eyes all evening, but now you knew he was trying his hardest to get you to look over at him - to acknowledge him. You didn’t want to speak to him, or even look at him for that matter.
It got weird, and that caused the need for things to end.
It had been six weeks since you last saw him, and the image of him standing in your doorway, begging to speak to you was etched permanently in your mind. You didn’t let him in, and you told him to go home. It was the right thing to do. It was what you both needed - whether or not he’s come to realize it.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it was your friend Joseph's birthday tonight, you’d be at home on your couch. However, Joseph had been your friend since you moved into the city, and there was no way you’d miss it.
“You look so good,” Cassidy spoke as she took your hand, making you twirl in front of her. It caused you to smile sheepishly as you didn’t like attention to be on you too much these days.
“Thanks, Cas,” you bit down on your bottom lip as you looked down and saw that your glass of red wine was nearly empty. “I’m just going to grab a refill.”
You moved away from Cassidy, and you felt your shoulders slouch as you did so. It had been exhausting keeping your image up all night. The image that you were happy, and that everything was just peachy. It was far from it, but you didn’t want him to know just how much things were impacting you.
Making your way into the large kitchen of your friend's house, the music from the living room drowned out a bit as you eyed the bottles of red wine on the counter. Cassidy had grabbed the first glass of wine for you, so you weren’t sure exactly which one you had been drinking.
“Y/N.”
You heard the raspy accent behind you - causing you to suck in a deep breath. There was no way you could handle an encounter with him tonight. This wasn’t the time, or place.
“We’re not doing this,” you told him softly as you walked towards the sink.
You washed your glass out lazily, just enough to get the remnants of the first wine out in case you don’t end up picking the same one again.
“Doing what?” He was behind you now, and you looked up to the window in front of the sink that had a view of the backyard - seeing the reflection of the both of you in it. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. I was just coming to greet you.”
“Harry, you and I both know you’re not over here just to greet me,” you sighed, and you turned around to place your hand on his chest to move him out of your way. You kept your eyes on the ground as you did so, moving around him so that you could dry your glass.
You still felt him behind you as you made your way over to the wine on the counter, and you were doing your best to ignore him, but it was hard when he made it to where was so close now.
“So that’s it? You won’t even look at me now?”
Sucking in a deep breath, you turned back around. You slowly trailed your eyes up his body, seeing that he was dressed in a pair of black dress pants with a sheer black short sleeved button up on top - his tattoos just barely shining through. Once you reached his face, you could see the sadness behind his emerald eyes, and that had you wanting to divert your gaze immediately.
“There - I looked at you. Are you happy?”
The corner of Harry’s lips curled down into a frown at your words, and you watched as he anxiously tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, I’m not. I haven’t been happy since you walked out on me.”
“Harry,” you shook your head. “I didn’t walk out on you. Our relationship wasn’t like that, and you know that.”
“And you know that from what I confessed to you that it was like that for me. You know it was like that for you too. You just won’t admit,” he scoffed, his eyes now trailing over you. “Seeing you tonight, looking so beautiful and talking to our friends like nothing has changed, it’s been killing me. Because it has changed, Y/N. Everything has changed.”
You felt a clenching in your chest at his words. You knew they were the truth. You had felt something more than what you had agreed upon, just like he did for you, but it scared you. Your relationship was based purely off of pleasure and dynamic. It was never meant to lead to anything further. It was only supposed to last until the two of you felt that it was time to move on. You had convinced yourself that’s what happened for you after that night, but you knew that was a lie.
“That’s it, darling,” Harry hovered over you, looking down at your tear-filled eyes as he circled your sensitive clit with the pads of his index and middle fingers. “You’re ‘s pretty for me. You know that?”
You whimpered as you nodded, feeling him plunging in and out of your drenched cunt. “Always wanna be pretty for you, daddy.”
“Oh, honey,” he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You don’t even have to try. You’re always pretty. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You loved when he showered you with compliments. It was one of your favorite things, and you knew he loved complimenting you too.
“Gonna come again,” you whined, snaking your hips underneath him. “Can I, please?”
“You can come. Let it go,” he coaxed you through it, applying a bit more pressure to your clit as he felt you clenching down around him - gushing past his cock as your third orgasm of the night plowed through you.
You gripped to him once the height of it hit you, and you let out a small sob of pleasure as the feeling encompassed you from head to toe. You were brought back down as you heard Harry’s grunts of ecstasy as he continued to thrust - hips clashing against yours.
“Daddy,” his eyes snapped up at the sound of your voice - looking up from where you both connected so that he was now looking into your eyes. “Want to feel it inside, please.”
You both had established always talking about where he was going to come. Initially at the beginning of this session, you had agreed upon him finishing on your stomach, but now that you had already come three times, you were desperate to feel his come inside of you.
“Yeah?” Harry picked up the pace of his movements, and you knew it was because he was close. “Want me to come inside your tight, and perfect cunt?”
“Please, I want it so bad.”
Harry’s jaw went slack as you felt the warmth of his orgasm filling you - his chest collapsing against yours as he fucked it into your swollen pussy. You hummed at the sensation, and you soon felt his lips against the side of your neck as he began to still.
“I love you.”
Your eyes shot open when the three words left his mouth, and you swallowed harshly as you registered that he had actually said them. You pushed it away though as you lifted a hand to run your fingers through the back of his curls as he panted against your skin.
You knew this could happen to people sometimes in the height of the moment, and you knew that it probably just slipped out without him even realizing. You knew he didn’t mean it.
After cleaning you up, he proceeded to clean himself up as well before he tucked the two of you into his bed. You were giggling and cuddling as his fingertips trailed over your back, both of you returning to the bed completely naked - something you did quite often.
His eyes wandered over your face as he lifted his other hand to push your hair behind your ear, and then he dragged his hand down to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushed along your lower lip as he now stared into your eyes.
“I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. I love you.”
You thought that maybe he had slipped into a subspace without you realizing, even though he was the dominant, and that he still hadn’t pulled himself out of it.
Your eyebrows narrowed as you held his face into both of your hands. “Harry,” you said his name instead of his title, hoping that would cause a crack in his wall - that it would get him to come back to you properly.
He lifted his hands to wrap around your wrists, and he gave them each a squeeze. “I know that’s not what this was when we started it, and that you might not feel the same way, but I couldn’t resist not saying it anymore. These past six months with you have been so wonderful, and I want to still continue on with what we’ve been doing, but maybe we could change the dynamic a little bit. Maybe keep this reserved for only sometimes, and then we can try out-”
“Wait, wait, wait,” you dropped your hands from him as you sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet against your chest to cover yourself. “Hold on, please.”
You closed your eyes tight as you tried to control your breathing. This felt so overwhelming.
He was right, the past six months had been amazing, but it was amazing because it was the dynamic you had agreed upon when this all began. Not because of what he was trying to turn it into.
It was silent between the two of you for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a couple of minutes. You looked over your shoulder at Harry as he stayed in his position laying down on the bed, now on his back so he could look at your properly.
“You can’t mean any of that,” you whispered, and you watched as sadness filled his eyes. “That’s not what this is.”
“I know, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “But I do mean it. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“Harry, you can’t,” you told him, and as he sat up, you moved away from him. “Please - don’t.”
You quickly got out of bed, and you walked over to the bag you had packed for the weekend that was in the chair in the corner of his room. You pulled on a pair of sweats and a jumper, tugging on some socks as well before zipping it up - pulling the strap over your shoulder.
“Y/N, please don’t leave,” Harry hopped out of the bed as you left his room - holding the bedsheet around his waist. “Can we talk about this before you just up and go? It’s almost three in the morning. Please just stay.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you slipped your feet into your shoes that were by the door, and you grabbed your purse from the hook on the wall. “We both made an agreement when we started this, that if we ended up wanting different things, then we would end it. It’s clear now that we want that - we want different things. So, I’m ending it.”
“You can’t be serious,” you heard the tears filling his voice, but you couldn’t look at him again.
“I have to go.”
You walked out as you heard him calling your name again.
He showed up the next morning at your door, clutching to the doorway once you opened it to reveal him. His eyes were swollen, and his cheeks tearstained as he begged for you to please listen to him. You denied him. You shut the door in his face after telling him that it had to be over.
“I wish you would stop acting like you know the way I feel - the way I felt,” you corrected yourself, and you heard Harry let out a small laugh.
“I don’t know why you’re running from this.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but you were interrupted by Joseph coming into the kitchen. He stopped as he laid eyes on you and Harry, looking between the two of you.
“Everything okay?” Joseph asked, and you sent him a tight smile.
“Everything’s fine! Just catching up with Harry while grabbing a refill,” you told him before turning around to grab a bottle of wine.
You and Harry agreed at the beginning of everything that you wouldn’t tell your friends about your relationship. None of them knew that either of you participated in that type of lifestyle, and you both wanted to avoid having to explain it.
After pouring yourself a glass, you turned around to see Harry still standing there as Joseph fixed himself another cocktail.
“It was nice talking to you again, Harry,” you slipped past him, and you felt him brush the tips of his fingers along the inside of your wrist as you did so.
It angered you how the smallest touch from him still had goosebumps coating your skin.
⌑⌑⌑⌑
It had been a week since Joseph’s party, and like always, you hadn’t left Harry’s mind. It wasn’t that he had stopped thinking about you since everything happened, but seeing you again made his mind wander to you more than usual. It was back to how often he thought of you when things first ended.
He had to stop himself from showing up at your apartment again - begging for you to please sit down and talk to him. He just wanted you to let him explain completely, so that you could see he really meant that he loved you.
But it was obvious that’s not what you wanted.
He just didn’t know how he had read the signs so wrong. There were instances throughout your time together where he thought he could see a gleam in your eyes that was showing him that you were feeling the same.
Harry didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but it was about four months in when he found it inevitable. He became completely captivated by you.
This was only supposed to be him showing you how a proper relationship between a dominant and a submissive was supposed to be. The both of you obviously let it go on for longer than just that because you worked well together.
You were the most perfect submissive for him.
He remembered the night when he found out you were open to that kind of relationship. The circumstances surrounding it were rather unfortunate. You didn’t want anyone in your friend group knowing what you did on your personal time, but Harry ultimately found out, and the way he did was beyond your control.
You both were out with your friends for the night. Harry hadn’t seen you out in a while, and you weren’t close enough at the time for him to really ask why. Tonight however, you were letting loose, and he was enjoying watching you.
The two of you had held a few conversations here and there since being introduced to each other, but you were never really ones to go out of your way to do so. They just happened on their own. You were quiet most of the time, and Harry was too.
Him keeping his eyes on you all night worked out in your favor, however. He noticed that you were no longer on the dance floor with Cassidy, and his eyes began to look among the crowd of the club you were in - to see if he could spot you.
Eventually he located you by the back hallway, and he saw you speaking with a gentleman. He looked like he was in his late thirties, and Harry was sure he had never seen him before.
With the way the gentleman was talking with his hands, Harry could tell that he was clearly angry about something, and you looked equally upset. It wasn’t until Harry saw him grab your elbow, leading you out the back exit, that he went into action.
He followed you both, but you had been pulled around the corner of the building.
“Do you think this is cute behavior, Y/N?” The man was berating you, and it made his blood boil. “What did you think? That this was going to earn you some fun punishment? I don’t even want to punish you. I can’t stand the fucking sight of you.”
Harry’s mouth gaped at the words being thrown your way, but still, he didn’t wish to intervene. He wouldn’t until he knew the situation he was dealing with.
“I-I’m sorry, sir,” he heard you sniff. “I hadn’t been out with my friends in so long, and I didn’t think you would care. I haven’t heard from you all week.”
“I told you I needed space until the weekend, and this is what you up and do when you knew that I could call you up and ask you to come over. And let me guess, you’re using my card for your tab?”
“No, no, I’m not!” The pleading in your voice crushed Harry’s heart, and he knew he couldn’t listen to this much longer. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave with you right now. I’ll go in, and I’ll pay, and then we can-”
“You’re not leaving here with me, Y/N. This is over. Give me my card.”
Harry came around the corner as he heard you sob, and he watched as you handed the man a credit card.
The moment the man spit at your feet, Harry sprung into action.
“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?” He yelled, pushing the man’s shoulders to get him to step away from you. “Spitting at a woman? Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
“She’s not a woman, she’s a fucking child,” the man bit. “She’s made that clear these last couple of weeks with her choices, and now the consequences are staring her right in the face.”
“Sir, please,” you went to reach forward for the man, but Harry was the one to stop you. He took your small hands and stood in front of you - blocking the other man from your view as he placed your hands against his chest.
“Y/N, darling, look at me,” Harry said softly, and you let your eyes flicker to meet his. “You’re going to let him leave, you understand? He’s a piece of shit, and he’s not treating you well. You’re going to let him leave.”
“She’s the piece of shit,” Harry quickly snapped his head to look over his shoulder at the man again out of the corner of his eye.
“I suggest you leave right now if you like your teeth remaining in your skull. I’m about two seconds from knocking over half of them out onto this sidewalk.”
You had never heard Harry’s voice have such anger, but you were grateful for it when you heard retreating footsteps - leaving just the two of you outside now.
Harry had been looking at you again this whole time, and you felt him lift a hand to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You’re alright now. He’s gone.”
Without even thinking, you nuzzled your face against his fingers as your eyes slipped shut for a moment. You felt so calm around him already even though you had just been so worked up.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and if I’m overstepping, please let me know, but was that man your dominant, Y/N?”
Blinking your eyes open, you struggled with how to respond. Was he asking because he knew of that lifestyle himself, or was he asking to judge you?
“Yes,” you whispered, giving him a small nod. “For the past few months.”
“How many have you had, darling?”
“He was my third,” you were being honest. You hadn’t engaged in this lifestyle for too long.
“And did they all speak to you like that? In that manner?”
Looking down to your feet, you nodded again - suddenly feeling so small, and almost embarrassed that you were revealing this part of yourself to Harry when the two of you really didn’t know each other all that well.
“Y/N, look at me, please.”
You shook your head, your bottom lip wobbling.
“Y/N,” he repeated himself, and he hooked his finger underneath your chin - forcing you to look up at him. Once you held his eyes again, he continued to speak. “That is not the way they should be speaking to you, ever. There’s a difference between punishment, and someone just being inappropriate and nasty when speaking to you. Do you understand?”
With your big doe eyes and your plump lips, Harry felt something new wash over him when it came to you. He had always seen you, sure, but tonight he was seeing you. This pretty, precious woman in front of him. You were being vulnerable, and he just wanted to hide you away from the evil that had presented itself to you already.
You shook your head as you took in his words. “I…I don’t know any different.”
Harry was doing his best to stay calm in front of you, but inside, he was actually fuming. These men had taken advantage of you, and disrespected you by disguising it as a normal part of that kind of relationship.
“How far do you live from here, love? How about I go inside and settle our tabs, and then I’ll take you home. We can talk more there.”
You agreed without hesitation, and the next thing you knew you were climbing out of a taxi with Harry - leading him into your apartment.
“Sit,” he instructed, and you obeyed him by taking a seat on your couch.
You could hear him moving around your kitchen, and he eventually returned with a glass of water - extending it to you.
“Drink this.”
You took the glass of water from him, drinking half of it before lowering it down into your lap - holding it with both of your hands. Harry reached out to glide his thumb under your bottom lip to collect the excess water that had started to drip.
“Good girl,” he praised you, and it caused a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Now, I have a proposition for you, Y/N.”
“I’m listening,” you responded, lifting the glass to your lips again to have a couple more sips.
“How would you feel about me showing you what a proper dominant is supposed to look like?”
Your eyes widened, and you gave yourself time to properly swallow your water before responding. “You…you would do that with me?”
“Why are you saying it like that, darling?” Harry chuckled, tilting his head to the side.
“I guess I’m just a little shocked that you’d want something like that with someone like me, that’s all,” you shrugged, beginning to nibble on your bottom lip.
“Someone like you? You mean polite, sweet, well-spoken and beautiful? Why wouldn’t I want to do something like that with someone like you?”
You were blown away by his compliments. You didn’t think Harry had seen you in that way at all. His offer intrigued you, but you couldn’t help but be a little hesitant.
“I don’t know, Harry,” you sighed, tapping the tips of your fingers against your glass. “You don’t think that could end up being weird?”
“What do you mean? I don’t tell my friends about partaking in this lifestyle, if that’s what you mean. They wouldn’t have to know we’re involved in anything further than what they see when we’re all together.”
When he explained it in that way, it did feel like some of the pressure had been taken off.
“Okay, then yes.”
Harry smiled as he reached out, taking the glass of water from you to set it on your coffee table. “Perfect,” he whispered as he now cupped your face in his palm. “Can I kiss you, love?”
You nodded, and his lips were on yours quicker than you thought they would be. After a few seconds of processing that this was actually happening, you hummed at the way his lips molded against yours - reaching out to grasp onto the sides of his jacket.
His tongue snuck out to glide along your lower lip, and you parted your mouth to allow it to roll inside. Your tongues tangled together, and you heard a groan rattle in his throat just before he pulled away.
“You have such a sweet mouth, Y/N,” he placed another quick peck to your lips before pulling away further. “I’m interested to see what other talents it may possess.”
You giggled, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip - having it be just slightly swollen from kissing. “I can’t wait to show you. I hope they meet your expectations.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will,” Harry winked as he stood from your couch. “I have your number from when we planned Katherine’s surprise party over the summer. I’ll text you, and we’ll plan a day for me to come over. We’ll finalize all the details, and then we’ll get started. How does that sound?”
You pressed your thighs together when you realized the next time you saw him, that more than likely meant that you’d be sleeping together, and you honestly couldn’t wait.
You had always found Harry to be attractive, who wouldn’t, but you hadn’t thought of him in that way until tonight.
And now you couldn’t stop.
Harry was currently sitting at the desk in his office at his house, staring at his computer screen as he opened the locked folder he had of your videos together, as well as pictures you had sent him throughout the last few months during your time as his submissive.
He double clicked on the video that was the longest, knowing this was the one he couldn’t get off his mind.
Taking in a deep breath, he pressed play, but he skipped until there was only about fifteen minutes left of the video - willing away the blood that wanted to rush to his cock at some of the images that flashed across the screen as he went. It didn’t feel right viewing that when you were no longer together, but the part of the video he wished to see was something he needed.
You both had forgotten about the camera being set up as you laid back down in your bed after cleaning up. This was only a couple months into your relationship, and you hadn’t started to sleep naked with each other yet. He knew the sleep set you had on in this video was one of your favorites, and it was one you had told him that you bought specifically for him.
A little pink camisole and shorts set - silky and frilled at the hems.
On the screen, you were smiling up at Harry as he crawled into bed beside you, and you were instantly curling into his side. He cuddled you, and praised you - telling you how good you had just been during your time in bed together only minutes before. His large hands massaged and caressed your body while he pressed his kisses to your forehead.
That was all it usually took for you to fall asleep, your giggles dying off as he continued to watch, and he eventually saw your body slouch against his. It was then that his eyes connected with the camera, and he realized he had left it on this entire time.
The video ended with Harry carefully getting out of bed, making sure not to disturb you, before he approached the camera - stopping the recording.
Tears burned in his eyes as he rewound the video to show you looking up at him and smiling again. He paused it to hold that particular frame, and he blinked - the tears streaming down his cheeks now.
He grabbed his phone, not being able to stop himself, and scrolled through until he got to your contact. He pressed the call button before holding the device up to his ear.
“Hello?”
He was honestly shocked that you answered, but he was grateful nonetheless.
“Y/N,” he choked out, trying to keep it together, but just saying your name made him even more emotional. “Please let me see you. Can we please talk this out? I can’t…I can’t keep doing this.”
It was silent for a few moments, and he waited - pulling the phone away from his ear to check the screen as he was sure you had hung up. When he saw the time on the call still going, he let out a shaky breath before putting the phone back to its previous position.
“Okay,” you whispered, and Harry felt his heart palpitate.
“Okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
⌑⌑⌑⌑
As you sat and waited for Harry on your couch, a cup of hot tea in your hands, you stared at the wall. You too had been reminiscing on your relationship almost all night, and you couldn’t get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried.
You were stuck on the beginnings of your relationship as well. Your mind dwelling on the first night you slept together.
You had never been taken care of in the way he took care of that night. No one has ever taken the time to give you proper aftercare, and it was shocking for you to see that he enjoyed doing it for you.
He had run you a hot bath, and he coaxed you into it - making sure you were situated before going back into your bedroom to change your sheets, and grab you a pair of pajamas. When he returned, he slipped into the bath behind you, and you were able to relax as he did all the work when it came to getting you clean.
Throughout the course of your relationship, you couldn’t help but wonder when his facade was going to diminish. Eventually he would speak to you the way your previous dominants had, you were sure of it.
But it never happened.
Harry was the perfect dominant. He punished you appropriately when you had a certain tone when speaking with him, or when you did something he asked you not to do. He knew most of the time you acted out because you wanted him to punish you, and he enjoyed doing it.
He enjoyed it because you enjoyed it, and you knew that.
In your past relationships, you dominants always went by ‘sir’, and you had tried that a few times with Harry, but it didn’t feel right. He told you that you both would figure it out in time, and you remember the first time you called him ‘daddy’ vividly.
Your hips were pinned down to the bed in one of Harry’s large hands while the other pressed a bullet vibrator to your clit. He was overstimulating you, putting you on the verge of your fifth orgasm, and you felt yourself slipping. When your fifth, and final orgasm hit you, the title, 'daddy', left you without even thinking about it.
Harry had every intention of still fucking you that night, but when he heard what you said with such a whiny tone, he ended up coming all over your stomach - unable to stop himself. From that night forward, the title of ‘daddy’ just stuck.
There were times when you felt yourself falling for him, but you pushed it away. It was too scary to think of your relationship turning into that because it wasn’t what you agreed upon.
So you had swallowed your feelings down, forgetting about your want for more until Harry spoke those three words almost two months ago now.
Now - you were angry at yourself for fleeing the way that you did, but you couldn’t help it. Hearing him say what you had felt in your heart for a while was too much.
The list of possibilities you had on how your relationship could change were endless. And the worst outcome of them all was Harry realizing he made a mistake by changing your dynamic, that he didn’t actually love you, and then the whole thing would end in a mess.
You felt it was easier just for you to end it when the dynamic was still the same to make it less to clean up.
A knock on the door drew you out of your thoughts, and you took another quick sip of your tea before setting it down. Licking over your bottom lip, you tugged your sleep shorts down as you walked over to the door - undoing the locks before opening it.
Your breath was stolen from you as you saw Harry standing there with a bouquet of pink tulips in his hand, and you could see the nervousness practically radiating off of him.
“I got these for you. I know you said tulips were your favorite,” he stated, extending them out to you.
You took them from him with a small ‘thank you’ before expecting them closer. “I mentioned liking tulips like…once,” you laughed softly as you met his eyes again.
“I know,” he nodded, and you swallowed harshly when you realized he probably remembered a lot of things about you that you wouldn’t expect him to.
You both stood there for a few more seconds before it registered that you were just letting him stand out in the hallway. “Oh my god, I’m sorry,” you shook your head as you moved out of the doorway. “Please come in.”
Harry stepped inside as you made your way into the kitchen to find a vase, and you peeked at him over your shoulder. “I had just made myself a cup of hot tea before you came. Did you want me to put the kettle back on and make you one as well?”
“No, I’m okay, Y/N, thank you though,” Harry said as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your armchair before plopping down in it.
You located a vase and filled it with water before placing the tulips in it. Once you had them situated the way you liked, you walked the vase over to your shorter bookshelf in the living room - placing them on top.
Making your way back over towards Harry, you sat down on the couch again, and pulled a blanket over your lap as you reached back out to grab your cup of tea.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Harry spoke after a moment, and you watched his chest swell as he took in a deep breath. “Tonight, I watched a video of us and-”
“Harry,” you grimaced slightly, thinking that he meant he watched the sexual acts that those videos consisted of.
“No, no, no,” he rushed out, shaking his head frantically. “I skipped through it. This one particular video…we had forgotten to turn the camera off. And it showed us settling into bed, and you falling asleep against me.
“I know that I’ve been missing you terribly, and I’m sure that was obvious at the party the other night, but watching that video again stirred something up in me. I’m devastated without you, darling. I don’t want to have to handle you not being by my side anymore.”
You contemplated your next words carefully. You knew he was upset, and you didn’t want to cause that to grow.
“I haven’t been handling things well either - even though I’ve tried to make you think differently,” you confessed, your cup beginning to shake due to your trembling hands. “I’ve missed you as well. I tried to forget about it. I tried to forget about you, and about everything, but of course, that’s impossible.”
Taking a minute, you attempted to lift your cup to your mouth to take a sip, and Harry quickly caught on to just how bad you were shaking. He was up before you could fully comprehend his movements, and you felt him take the cup from you as he sat down.
“Open.”
You parted your lips as he brought the tea up to your mouth, and he tilted the cup just enough to give you a proper sip before he was setting it back down onto the coffee table.
“Thank you,” you spoke softly after you swallowed the warm liquid.
Harry’s hand came up, and you could tell he was reluctant at first, but eventually he cupped the side of your neck - running his thumb up and down the column of your throat. “I’ve missed touching you.”
You slowly moved the blanket off your body, and you shuffled yourself closer to him. You delicately placed your hands on his chest - instantly feeling the hammering of his heart.
“I missed touching you too,” you whispered as you ran the tip of your nose along his jawline. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I was just scared.”
“I know, honey. I know,” he reassured you as he wrapped his other arm around your waist to pull you even further into him. “Please just tell me that you invited me here so we could work this out. That we don’t have to fight this any longer.”
“I asked you over here so I could tell you,” you started before resting your cheek against his so that your lips met his ear. “That I love you too.”
Harry pulled his face away from yours, looking down into your eyes. You could see the emotion swirling behind them as his fingers tightened into the back of the shirt you had on. “Don’t play with me, Y/N.”
“I’m not playing, Harry,” you shuffled around again to sit up on your knees, taking his face in both of your hands - tilting his head back to look up at you since you were towering over him slightly now. “I love you.”
Leaning down, you pressed your lips against Harry’s molding them together slowly, and you heard him inhale sharply through his nose. You had only initiated kisses a few times within your time together, and most of the time it was when you were both teetering on the line of your dynamic.
Harry’s hand was still loosely against your back from before, but now he moved his hand down and underneath your shirt so that his palm was flush with your skin. His other hand slipped into your shorts, and he pulled away quickly when he was met with your bare ass cheek against his hand - not the cloth of your underwear.
“Are you not wearing underwear?” Harry questioned, staring at you with furrowed brows.
Your cheeks flushed pink as you shook your head, biting down on your bottom lip. “I took them off before you came over.”
You watched as Harry’s pupils dilated, and soon both hands were grasping to your thighs as he maneuvered the two of you around the couch. You straddled his waist only for a moment before he was standing off the couch, cradling the globes of your ass in his hands as he started towards your bedroom.
“What did I tell you about not wearing underwear when I’m not around?” He breathed into your ear - teeth tugging at the lobe.
You yelped as Harry sat down at the end of your bed, and you were soon thrown over the tops of his thighs, your cheek resting against your comforter as you stared at the wall. You knew that he was looking for an answer from you, that the question wasn’t rhetorical, but you were feeling a bit disobedient.
“Y/N,” Harry’s tone caused a clenching in your abdomen, and squirmed in his lap as you rubbed your thighs together. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth as you felt his hand push between your thighs - separating them. “You’re being extremely naughty this evening. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll spank it out of you.”
Gasping, your body jolted as Harry tugged your shorts down and off of your body. You hummed, slipping your eyes shut when you felt his large hand caressing over one of your ass cheeks.
“But I know that won’t be enough, hm?” Harry nipped at your jawline. “I’ll make sure I fuck it out of you too.”
The sound of Harry’s hand coming down against one of the rounds of your ass echoed off the walls, and you moaned - nuzzling your face into the mattress.
“Count, Y/N.”
“One,” you whimpered as you lifted your head enough to speak.
“Good girl,” Harry smoothed his hand over the area he had just spanked before alternating to your other cheek. “You’re getting ten.”
Harry’s hand came down again, and you swallowed down the lewd moan that wanted to escape you. “Two.”
He continued, and by the last one, you were dripping.
“Ten,” you gasped, and you then felt both of Harry’s hands on your cheeks - massaging them gently. You bit down on your lip in sensitivity, whining softly.
“Color?” Harry whispered in your ear as he pressed a kiss right underneath it.
“Green,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself.
It had been so long since the two of you had been like this, and your body wasn’t quite used to it again yet, but it still felt good - that part you couldn’t deny.
Harry quickly flipped you over, and soon your shirt was removed from your body as well. Your back was slightly arched due to the angle, and the fact that you were still over thighs. Biting down on his bottom lip, he ghosted his fingertips over your pert nipples. You couldn’t help but wiggle in his lap again - craving his touch deeply.
“Daddy,” you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes. “Please.”
He shushed you gently as he kept a hand cupping one of your breasts while the other dipped between your legs. You squirmed as he smeared your arousal over your needy clit, and he began to rub tantalizing circles against it.
“Don’t you want daddy to take his time with you? It’s been so long, darling.”
“Maybe later,” you tangled your fingers into the sides of your hair, lifting your hips to meet Harry’s fingers more. “I need you now, please.”
Harry hummed softly, and you were flipped onto all fours before you knew it. “You know what to do,” he told you as you heard the buckle of his belt being undone.
Much like earlier when you were over his lap, you lowered your torso so your cheek was to the mattress, and you wrapped your hands around each of your ankles. It was only a few minutes later that you felt Harry kneeling on the bed behind you, and your waist soon became supported in his hands.
“I promise that I’m only asking this to make sure that we’re both safe, but have you been with anyone since the last time we were together?” Harry asked, and you felt him beginning to slide his cock through your glistening folds.
“No, daddy, nobody since you last had me,” you told him honestly. “I promise.”
“And I haven’t had anyone but you, honey,” he leaned down - pressing a tender kiss to the middle of your spine. “You sure you want me?”
You knew that he was teasing now, and you wiggled your hips back against him. It caused his tip to nudge against your clit, and you both moaned out at the sensation.
“Use your words, Y/N,” Harry gripped to your hip slightly. “Tell me.”
“Yes, I want you. I want you so bad, daddy. I missed you so much,” you were begging now, but you knew that he liked it when you did.
The next thing you felt was Harry’s head nudged at your entrance, and he only gave you a minute to comprehend it before he was dipping himself inside of you. You tightened your hold on your ankles as you squeezed your eyes shut tight - feeling the familiar burn of him entering you completely.
“Can’t believe I even fit. ‘Y so tight,” Harry muttered behind you, and you soon felt the tip of his index finger grazing around where his length filled you. You felt pressure as he pushed his finger between your cunt and his shaft - having his knuckle slide against one of your walls.
The whine you were letting go caught in your throat, and your body shuddered as you felt his finger enter you completely to the point where the tip of it grazed your g-spot. “Fuck, and you can fit my finger too, darling? You’ll just stretch out for whatever I give you, yeah?”
You audibly exhaled as Harry’s fingers left you, and he soon began to rock his hips back and forth to get you even more wet, as well as to make sure he was properly slicked up for you. Your nails began to dig into your skin as Harry quickened his pace - the sound of your skin slapping together being the only thing either of you could hear except for your small whimpers.
“Such a good girl,” Harry’s chest met your back, and you felt his fingers playing with your clit again. “Is this what you wanted?”
Nodding, you opened your mouth to answer him, but he was giving it to you so hard that your brain couldn’t even figure out how to piece the words together.
Harry’s hand slapped down against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to lose the grip on your ankles as you lurched forward. You were now flat against the bed with Harry still inside you as you wiggled your legs underneath him. Panting, you felt Harry kissing over the back of your neck as he reached forward to grab one of your hands - lacing your fingers together. His other hand was propped up beside your head to make sure he wasn’t putting his weight on you.
“Talk to me, “ he said softly as he continued to place delicate kisses across your neck. “Are you okay, love? Do we need to stop?”
You shook your head as you gave his hand a squeeze. “No, daddy. Can I turn over though? I want to see you.”
“Of course, baby,” Harry cooed, and without him slipping out of you, he carefully turned you over onto your back.
The sight of you had his heart swooning. Your face was flushed, and your eyes were slightly teary from your spankings - as well as him overstimulating you a bit. You were so beautiful to him. You were everything he ever wanted, and he didn’t know how fate had the two of you cross paths the way you did, but he wouldn’t change it for anything.
“I love you,” you whispered, lifting your hands to run them over his shoulders, and then down his chest. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Y/N. I’m sorry for keeping it from you like I did, and I was being a little selfish by having what we agreed upon mean a little more to me, but I need you to know-”
You lifted your finger to place it against his lips, and you shook your head. “Let’s not talk about that, okay? We’re here, and we’re with each other. And now, I’m going to ask you to please make love to me, Harry.”
A fire ignited in Harry’s chest at your words, and he grabbed both of your legs to have you wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands cupped your rib cage, right underneath your breasts as he began to start up his thrusts again.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, and you moved your hands to cradle the sides of his neck. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, earning a whine from you, and he began to give it to you even harder.
You were in absolute bliss. This was the first time where you were having sex with that wall down - outside of your dynamic. This was you and Harry having sex, not a dominant and a submissive.
From the angle he had you at, his shaft rubbed along your clit with every movement, and your toes began to curl as you were already on the brink of your orgasm. “I-I’m gonna come,” you pulled away from Harry’s mouth as you arched further into him - head back with your breast pressed against his chest.
“Already, love?” Harry said as he kissed over your jawline. You began to clench down around him, and you felt as Harry’s hips stuttered at the feeling. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come so quick if you do that again.”
His words were lost as you felt your orgasm taking over, and the noise of pleasure that left you had Harry’s prick twitching inside of you. Once you came back down, you heard Harry’s shallow breaths above you, and you fluttered your eyes open to see him still staring down at you.
With his jaw slightly slack, and his chain with the cross pendant dangling over your chest, you weren’t sure if you had ever seen something so captivating in your life. He was so gorgeous, and he was yours.
He wanted you.
“Come for me, Harry,” you took his face into your hands, tapping the tip of your nose against his. “I need you to fill me up.”
“Is that what you want?” Harry grunted as he picked up his pace. “Want me to fill you all up with my come? Have you home my babies inside your round tummy? Is that what you want, mama?”
You couldn’t help but feel your walls flutter around him again when he spoke those words. “Yes, yes, please. Fuck it up into me, Harry. Make it stick.”
You had never introduced the breeding kink before, but god did it make you both so feral.
Sliding your hands down his torso and around to his back, you unhooked your ankles from where they rested against his lower spine so that you could venture your hands down to cup his ass. Kneading the tissue in your hands, you began to pull him further into you, and you let out a loud ‘uh’ as you felt him brushing against your cervix.
“Fuck, Y/N. ‘M coming,” Harry moaned as he dropped his forehead against yours.
You continued to rock him through his sloppy thrusts until he was spent, and he collapsed on top of you. Your sweaty bodies stuck together, but neither of you cared. This was all either of you wanted after weeks of being apart, and you were so happy that you decided to answer his call tonight.
“Please, never leave me again,” Harry whispered as he pressed kisses on the swells of each of your breasts before connecting your lips in a delicate kiss. “I can’t be without you, darling.”
“I won’t, Harry, I promise. I couldn’t ever be without you either.”
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solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)
summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?
words: 6.4k (she's long)
warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.
"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."
Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.
Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.
"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."
Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.
She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.
"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"
"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."
Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.
As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands.
Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.
For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.
"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"
Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.
"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."
To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."
His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.
Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."
"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."
Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.
She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.
By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.
As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."
Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."
Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.
But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."
As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.
Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter.
At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.
However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.
For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.
One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.
"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."
The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."
Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now.
Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.
"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"
She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.
To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.
"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"
Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.
Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"
If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...
The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.
When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.
But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.
"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."
Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.
"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"
Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"
The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.
By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.
"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."
Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense.
"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."
Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."
She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.
Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.
"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."
He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.
"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"
Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.
Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"
Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.
"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."
The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.
"Then it's official. We're a couple now."
Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?
"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.
To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."
He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.
"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.
Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."
The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.
***
Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.
They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.
One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.
To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile.
"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"
Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"
"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"
Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.
"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"
Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."
The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously.
After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.
By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.
That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.
"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."
After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.
"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."
Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.
Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.
It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.
After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.
One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.
Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.
"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."
While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.
By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.
Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.
"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude.
She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.
Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.
"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."
Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed.
This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.
By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.
Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.
Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.
She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.
When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.
"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."
Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.
"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.
Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.
"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."
"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.
The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.
"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."
As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.
Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.
Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.
"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."
Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.
Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.
She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.
"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."
Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.
"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.
Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.
His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.
Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..
Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.
"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."
Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.
"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."
The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.
Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.
"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"
Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.
Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.
"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."
With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.
"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."
His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.
"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.
True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.
Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.
By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.
Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.
"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"
Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words. He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.
Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.
"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."
Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.
She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.
“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”
She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.
“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”
Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.
She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.
Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.
“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.
“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.
“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.
“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.
“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.
She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.
“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”
He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.
“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.
“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.
“Just a little longer, Almost done”
He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.
He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.
He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.
***
The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.
There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?
Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.
"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"
The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.
"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."
But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.
What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?
The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)
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girl uncle
MASTERLIST
Summary: in which Harry becomes an uncle and has a bad case of baby fever
Author’s Note: congratulations to Gemma, i’m so happy for her and the entire Styles family. if this sucks, it's because babies scare me and i tried to write a fic about baby fever... not my smartest move
Word Count: 1k
···
“Baby? You okay?” Y/N murmured, brushing the hair out of Harry’s face. His lower lip trembling as he stared at the rose-flushed baby.
Harry shook his head, the first tear trailing down his cheek. Y/N could never stand to see him weep. It made something inside of her shatter as he lost his composure.
Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close. He leaned his head against her shoulder, tears trailing down his face and onto her shirt. His eyes never left the baby.
Gemma laid fast asleep in the bed behind them. In a little while, the nurse would come in to check in on the baby and Gemma. But for now, Harry and Y/N were left with a sleeping Gemma and a baby to gaze at.
Harry had been stressed out of his mind when Michal called to tell them Gemma’s water had broken and they were headed to the hospital. He had fussed over every detail, and Y/N had been the one to grab the car keys and usher him out of the house. She knew he wasn’t in any mental state to be driving.
The time in the waiting room had been spent by Y/N helping Michal with all the paperwork and Harry pacing in circles. She’d gotten him a tea and ordered him to sit down. As he sipped on his tea, his face still in an anxious frown, she’d pressed a notebook and pen in his hands. Y/N had cupped his face in her hands and instructed, “Everything on your mind, write it down. All the anxious overthinking- lay it down on the page.”
Harry had done so, filling a worrying amount of pages with all that was on his mind. She had skimmed it and found he kept repeating certain thoughts, a clear sign he was just in a spiral of overthinking.
Y/N sat down next to him and simply hugged him until the tension in his muscles dissipated and he relaxed- not completely, but enough to soothe her worries.
When they’d finally been let into the room to see an exhausted Gemma, grinning Michal and a fussy baby, Harry had been handed the baby to hold. He rocked her lightly in his arms, smiling down at her.
“You’re a girl uncle,” Y/N had said teasingly. Harry grinned nonetheless.
That had led them to this, a day after the currently unnamed baby was born. The sun had long set on the horizon, and dark flooded the streets with lamplights turned on.
“We’re adults now,” Harry whispered lowly, as to not rouse the sleeping figures in the room. He sniffled. “I can still remember being kids and climbing trees. How Gemma cleaned up my knee when I scraped it learning to ride a bike. And look at her now.”
A warmth spread in Y/N’s chest, somewhere between happiness and an indescribable satisfaction at knowing they’d made it this far. And a melancholic feeling thinking about how they used to worry about whether their parents would let them go out to the park with their friends or not. Now, they would soon become the parents themselves.
Harry sighed, and she wiped his tears away from his cheeks. Y/N placed a tender kiss on his forehead and said, “You’re an uncle now.”
Looking up at her as if she’d been the one to freckle the sky with stars, Harry said, “Uncle Harry. Has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”
A soft chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips. “Definitely.”
“Dad would sound even better,” Harry whispered, pressing himself close to her and nuzzling his nose against her neck. “Don’t you agree?”
Eyebrows raised in light surprise, Y/N asked, “You want to…?”
Harry nodded. “Wouldn’t it be nice?” He whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. He had that soft look in his eye he always got whenever he talked about their future. “Maybe a ring on your finger before… and then a baby in your belly.”
“You’ve got baby fever,” Y/N groaned quietly, turning her head away from him. Her gaze landed on the baby again, wrapped in a light pink blanket. For a moment, she imagined that being her baby. And a rush of affection swelled in her chest, a pinch of fear tingling on her fingertips.
Fuck, maybe she had baby fever as well.
They certainly did look adorable, faces all scrunched up, skin a rosy pink and fingers all chubby.
“Is that a no?” Harry prompted quietly.
Y/N sighed as if she were exhausted by him. They both knew her every word was laced with affection, “How’d you go from crying ‘cause your sister’s a mom now to begging for a baby?”
“Marriage and a baby,” Harry said, matter-of-factly. “Get your facts straight.”
Holding back a laugh, Y/N said, “Begging for marriage and a baby.” She took one good look at the man beside her, with brown curls and green eyes that looked almost a forest green in this light. “I never could say no to you.”
“That’s a yes?” Harry asked hopefully, leaning in close.
Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately. "It means be patient. We'll see how things go." She gave him a playful glare. "But we are having a wedding before a baby. Got it, Styles?"
"Got it, baby,” Harry confirmed with a grin. He knew he was going to get what he wanted. Maybe more in the future, he would spend an obscene amount of money on a Tiffany engagement ring and a Vivienne Westwood wedding dress. But for now, those plans were stowed away in Harry’s mind. They would come to fruition eventually. It was just a matter of time.
#harrystyles#fanfic#fanfiction#harry styles#female oc#harry styles writing#harry styles x female reader#oc#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#blurb#writing#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#fic#harry edward styles#harry styles x yn#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x oc#harry styles imagine#harrry styles fluff#fluff
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the pact
summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
—
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
—
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
—
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
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#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#Harry styles#harry styles fic#harryslittlefreakk#harry styles masterlist
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don't want to be alone | h.s.
Pairings: Harry Styles x Reader
Summary: Divorcing the biggest superstar on the planet is the hardest thing you've ever done. Almost as hard as marrying him was.
Warnings: Angst, couples therapy, a little bit of fluff, hopeful ending
A/N: I don't know why I'm feeling so full of angst... but, please enjoy!
Flashback are in italic and present day is normal text
Boxes are littered around the house. Some full and taped shut others still being stuffed with your items. It's a slow and torturous process, having to choose what to take, what to throw out and what things are a conversation waiting to happen "That's a wedding gift from my aunt" or "When have you ever used that?" or even better "I know it was a gift, but I paid for it so i'll keep it". It's like he knows exactly which buttons to press to get the fights started. Granted you might be doing the same thing... But it doesn't make him entitled to all the belongings you've ever shared.
You've managed to find all the picture albums, the ones you decided to make for sentimental value. The ones you gifted him in tender moments. The ones filled with so much love, so much hope and promises for a future together. The ones you're now highly considering throwing into a paper shredder and tossing into the nearest incinerator. The ones you won't be able to get rid of. The anniversary album you gave him on your one year, the wedding album, the honeymoon album, the many travel albums and, of course, your daughter's first album.
Little Anya, barely 9 months old just starting to babble her first words. Chubby legs working so hard to keep her standing and exploring. She can barely take 3 steps one after the other but she's a fighter. Your little girl that is now a cause for argument, no, fights. Custody battles. The true war between yourself and your husband, Harry Styles. Neither of you want to lose or call for a tie, it's not how either of you operate in conflict. That, most likely, is the reason for the downfall of your relationship.
Frustrated you put the albums back where you found them and you head to the kitchen.
Most kitchen items have been packed up, Harry had never really invested in worthwhile cutlery or electronics of any sort. You take some orange juice from the fridge and pour a glass for yourself. The fridge itself is barren, with only the essentials left... neither of you has gone to the groceries in weeks. Today is not going to be a good day.
From the rediscovery of your love-filled albums to the boxes you've spent most of the day doing, you still have one horrible thing to do.
Couples therapy, your first-ever session. You thought, well still think, that this is too far gone to save in therapy. There won't be anything new shared that you haven't already screamed in each other's faces and self-help talks aren't exactly going to do the trick. Anne, Harry's mother, insisted that your marriage doesn't only include two people anymore. Anya makes it worth trying, she is worthy of a stable home as she grows up. No matter how unstable having a superstar parent may be, divorced parents might just add to that an unruly amount. So, you've both agreed to try. Try your very best to reassemble your love no matter how shattered it has become. Love. Love hasn't manifested itself once since about your seventh month of pregnancy. Love has vanished from your husband's once warm and inviting eyes, it no longer lingers on his fingertips and doesn't even creep into the more tender moments you must share with your baby. Love feels like a complete joke to you now.
-
The waiting room is empty of other clients which is a blessing in disguise. This is the absolute last place you'd want to run into Harries. Even if the media has already been dragging you in the mud for "breaking their dear superstar's heart" and has been making all sorts of claims about you and your marriage. In the very beginning, Harry had spoken up about these articles and had gotten his team to shut some people up but he's been losing care for... well, you.
"Harry and Y/N?" you look up meeting the eyes of who you can only assume is your therapist. Without sparring your husband a glance you get up and follow her into her office. It's cosy and smells like vanilla. There's a yellow glow to the room, it bounces off her multiple frames and decorations. Very nonthreatening, immediately putting you a little more at ease. She gestures for you to take a seat on her velvet green couch and you sit down squeezing yourself onto the left armrest. Harry does the same to the right.
"Good afternoon to you both, I am Trinity Finch. Can I get either of you something to drink before I sit down?" She smiles politely as her eyes shift between both of you. You only shake your head as an answer not trusting your stomach at the moment.
"Water if it's not too much trouble, please" Harry's voice is strained, he had been at the studio all morning probably preparing a new album you aren't aware of.
Trinity nods and quickly grabs a water bottle from a small fridge she's got right behind her desk. Harry mumbles a thank you as she hands it to him. You don't realise that his hands are shaking as you're back to looking around the room. He takes a few big gulps before your therapist gets to sit in her chair.
"Today I would just like to start with a history lesson on your relationship. How it started, all important moments, how parenthood has changed your shared life and just how you two are as a couple" She starts getting things ready around her, notebook, pens, highlighters, some sticky notes and you swear that you spotted some bright childish stickers. Her long manicured nails tap against the glass of her desk a few times as the silence stretches. Neither of you taking the first step in this session. When she looks up again she doesn't look annoyed or surprised by the lack of an answer.
"Harry, how did you meet your wife?" Trinity asks him gently.
Harry seems caught by surprise to have been asked a question directly. He looks at you briefly before turning his eyes back to her.
"Um, we meet on the plane. For some reason, my private plane for that day was not available and they booked me on a regular flight. Premium ended up being full and I got an economy seat. I had the aisle and she had the middle we ended up bonding over our shared movie choice. Then I asked her out and um here we are?" He ends with a question. As if unsure if "here" is a good thing, it's definitely not but meeting has, unfortunately, brought you both here.
"And when was this?" she asks.
"April 2018" he answers quickly. She nods presumably writing it down.
"How was your relationship before marriage Y/N?" she looks at you now with kind eyes. They are big and dark. Staring right into your soul. It makes you slightly uncomfortable but at the same time you don't want her to look away she's your lifeline right now.
"It was very easy. I work remotely as a translator and an editor, so I've always been able to tag along on his travels and tours. He, um, he always insisted that he rather have me with him even if we couldn't see each other every single day. Just knowing I was near helped him..." you sigh. You don't want to shed tears this early into your session. You don't want Harry to see you cry any more than he already has over your lost relationship.
"I really loved following him around the globe" you add, looking down at your lap willing your wet eyes to dry.
"Any fighting? How did you deal with that?" Trinity is still talking to you maybe even sensing that you're about to cry. Is that what she wants from this?
"Well, yeah. I mean all couples fight, right? We fought over the same things all the time really. I wanted more affection I guess pressuring him to take some time away from the spotlight or he wanted me all to himself whenever it worked with him without thinking of my work. Our jobs were the main reason for fighting between us" Besides you, Harry scoffs before taking another sip of water. Your head turns to him
so quickly that a sharp pain forms in the back of your neck. Your posture immediately tightens, muscles locking and your breath gets heavier.
"What? You don't agree?" you question him in a much harsher tone than you were previously using. He meets your gaze and shrugs.
"I do but that's not all we fought over" he shrugs again not looking away. Is he trying to pick a fight right now? Here of all places?
"Then what? What am I missing?" you prepare yourself for the worst. Ready to feel like absolute shit at anything he might say.
"Your constant jealousy was a contender for the most appearances in our fights" his entire expression is accusatory but he does this thing with his posture. Gets all soft and somewhat blazé making you feel inferior and so incredibly small.
You want to storm out. Call Anne to apologise that it couldn't work out and immediately sign the divorce papers that are permanently placed right on your dining table.
Not wanting to fuel this energy taking over him right now you shrug as well before facing Trinity again. She's watching both of you like a hawk, processing the way you react to conflict with each other. Making mental notes as well as some physical ones all while hostility happens between her clients.
"We'll move on from this for now. Harry, how was the wedding? How did married life change your bond?" this seemingly calms his overgrown ego. His face is neutral again but there's a softness to it now, recalling the happy days.
"We had an Italy wedding. We, I love Italy. I flew everyone out, our families and friends, and then we stayed there for a month more for our honeymoon. The wedding itself was... amazing. We kept it small. Intimate. With my life it's always been hard to have that so, it was important to us" he sounds blissful towards the last part. Probably back there now in his mind. Ah, the good old days as they say.
"I don't think married life changed us much. We were living together before that and we'd been planning it since we got together practically" he stops talking again to take another sip of water. You look at the lady in front of you again and as she begins to open her mouth to probably question him more Harry starts talking again.
"I guess tension started about a year in. The media wasn't kind to her. They made up cheating rumours on both sides and manipulated things to make them seem like something else. Someone even showed up at our old house while I was out" he took a deep breath, cracking some of his knuckles at the same time, "We were always on edge around each other. Throwing these rumours at one another just to I don't know, get a reaction? Plus, we were stuck at home because of Covid and my tour was postponed. It was a real shit show" he laughs bitterly and you nod along to what he was saying. That was just a terrible time. For everyone.
"Then I got to go on tour, Y/N didn't follow along for all of it but she was there most of the beginning. It wasn't the same as before. There was this distance that just never got better. And then she got pregnant" he almost sounds exhausted. Maybe he is, you're not sure how much he's slept lately.
-
Shit. Fuck. This can't be happening now. Shit! The word "Pregnant" seems to be mocking you as you look down at it. Mocking the fact that you and Harry have not seriously spoken in two days and that you're flying back home tomorrow. Mockingly reminding you that this can only make things worse right now.
"Y/N, come on the car is waiting downstairs" your husband's voice is weak through the thick hotel bathroom door. He's performing in Toronto tonight. The second day, the last day before he flies to New York and you go back to London.
You walk out of the bathroom, straight past Harry, not wanting him to read your face and figure out that something is terribly wrong. You slip into your shoes for the night and take a deep breath, no scratch that, a huge breath. Willing your facial expression to cooperate before you turn to him and smile.
"Let's go superstar!" he smiles back and walks over to you. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his mouth so he can plant a kiss on the back of it.
"We just might have to cancel tonight if you look this good" his free hand wraps around you tightly glueing you to his body. You know he doesn't mean it but you pretend to consider it nonetheless.
"Mh what about all your adoring fans? Won't they be so utterly crushed?" you tease against his lips. He smiles wickedly before slowly nodding.
"I do have quite the engagement this evening... how about I make it up to you after?" he presses soft kisses to the sides of your face. Framing it.
"That's a pretty good offer, I just might have to tak-"
"HARRY STYLES GET YOUR ASS OUT OF YOUR HOTEL ROOM!!" Jeff's voice is full of annoyance as it cuts you off. Rude.
You laugh before getting pulled out of the room by your husband. The small plastic stick forgotten on the washroom counter for now.
You get a harsh reminder tho when you're back at the hotel after yet another amazing concert. You're laying on the bed completely stretched out and now only dressed in your underwear. Harry's currently using the washroom to try and get some of the remaining glitter off his face when he finds the secret you've kept all evening.
"Y/N, what's this?" his voice is so shaky that you barely even understood what he asked you. However, when you look up your brain catches up. He's in his boxers, left hand in his hair and right hand holding the test like it's made of glass as he looks at it as if it's going to explode. Fuck.
"No chance that you suddenly lost the ability to read?" you try and lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. It fails.
"You're pregnant. How, I mean no I know how. Fuck, you're pregnant" he looks up at you panicked.
"We don't have to keep it" is the first thing out of your mouth. Probably as a panic response to his reaction. Not wanting this to turn into another fight.
"What?! Why wouldn't we, you don't want, I um" he takes a second. He's just breathing heavily while looking at you desperately. "You don't want to keep it?" he breathes out.
"You do?" is all you answer. You stand slowly, finding the clothes you just took off to put them back on. Whatever mood you were in is gone you're now filled with anxiety and a deep fear.
"You leave tomorrow... We won't see each other for what 3 months? In Mexico?" he hasn't moved an inch. Feet seemingly glued to the floor and limbs were frozen.
-
Pregnancy. One of the worst and best times of your life. Your gorgeous baby girl came out of all the pain you suffered. She gave a new meaning to the way you live, made you forget about all the physical pain you endured and...
"Why do you say it in that way? Like you still dread what the pregnancy brought" Trinity's voice almost startles you. You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you'd almost forgotten where you were.
"I don't! I love Anya" his voice is stern.
"What about your wife? What happened during the pregnancy?" she's digging. Wants to find the right buttons to push.
Harry stammers, but no answer seems to satisfy him. His hands are squeezed under his things, his right leg bouncing and his eyes avoiding either of you.
"We didn't plan her, I was right in the middle of my tour. We, um, we weren't doing very good and she was about to go home" he looks at you suddenly surprising you when he meets your eyes. You can't read him, can't understand what he's feeling. You haven't been able to read him in months.
"She- You, Y/N, she got really sick in February the seven-month mark. I was in Australia and I couldn't be there. It really strained us, we fought all the time over the phone and in person. I guess that's really when we went downhill" his jaw tenses when he looks away from you. Looks like he's not happy to have to have shared this with the room.
"Okay, thank you, Harry. I think now's a great time to take a breather. I'll meet both of you individually when we come back. So, see you both here in 20 minutes?" Trinity smiles at both of you and keeps smiling until you both walk out.
-
Harry doesn't come back. You wait 45 minutes in Trinity's office looking like an idiot. She dismisses you with a look of pity on her face before scheduling another appointment 5 days later, lots of work to do you assume. You rush out of the building humiliation creeping into every inch of your body. How could he do this on the first day? It was going fairly well, well you think so anyway... did he give up on your relationship right then and there?
As you make your way to your car you see him. Harry is pacing back and forth in front of his car as he seemingly argues on the phone. His free hand waves erratically in front of him, gesturing like mad for someone who can't even see him. So this is what he's been doing? Arguing over the phone while you sat in a therapist's office waiting to try and work on your ever-crumbling marriage. You scoff before turning away from him and to your car. But nothing seems to be on your side today as your husband hears you and immediately calls out to you.
"Y/N! Why are you leaving?" you hear him walk towards you, the clacking of his shoes getting closer to you but you ignore him and walk away faster.
You're completely focused on your black Subaru, the "You're so Golden" sticker catching your eye and making you more pissed off. Something that was put there because you loved the song, because of how beautiful your husband's voice is in the song but now all you want to do is rip it right off. So, that's what you do.
Your nails claw at the edges of it desperately. You don't want any reminders of Harry on your car, you don't want to think of him while putting the groceries away, while walking around the car after putting Anya in her car seat and you don't want to see it in your rearview mirror anymore. The top corner lifts as you're pulling at it giving you the perfect leverage to rip it right off. You throw it to the ground right before turning around to stare daggers into Harry's eyes.
"45 minutes, Harry. I sat there 45 minutes with our therapist looking at me like a beaten dog!" you hiss at him. He is now only about 2 or 3 feet away from you. His eyes are wide, in shock you guess, as he looks at the sticker. "What could you have possibly been doing for more than an hour that made you forget what we were here for?" you're sure you sound desperate right now. Your head is all over the place and your heart feels like it might explode out of your chest.
"An hour? I, no, that couldn't have been more than-"
"You can go back up and ask her if you want because I really really don't want to be around you right now" and now you're crying. Fuck. Why are you crying now? You need to leave.
While rummaging in your bag for your keys Harry grabs your arm. Well maybe not grabs, he just places his hand on you, resting it there delicately. If you weren't so aware of every single inch of your body right now you wouldn't have noticed. No matter how delicate the touch is supposed to be you flinch out of it aggressively.
"I'm, I'm so sorry Y/N. That was my mother, she, fuck" he sighs and runs a hand in his hair gripping it tightly. "She wants us to go up... she's rented a lake house or something I guess" his voice is so soft, shy even.
"Us? You mean you and Anya?" god you hope so.
"I'm so sorry" is all he answers.
-
Anne Twist is a very difficult woman to say no to. Actually, it's impossible to say no to her. In the many years you've known her, she's always been able to find a way to make you say yes. Always in a good way. She loves you, she has told you that countless times, and you love her but now that you're... the way you are with her son you don't know where you stand. Yet, she has still found a way to get you to agree to something you would have much rather not have gone to. You're in a small townhouse almost 4 hours away from your home in London with your mother-in-law, your daughter and your soon-to-be ex-husband. What has your life come to?
Anya is sitting in her high chair passionately eating banana slices as you watch her. She's already gobbled up the strawberries and pita bread slices she also had for her snack. She's such a good eater always so ready to try new things and taste whatever the adults around her eat. Especially the sweet treats her dad sneaks her.
"Do you want to go take a dip after huh? We should enjoy the water my love" you coo at her as she takes her final bite of food. She smiles at you like she understood what you asked and you chuckle wiping her chubby cheeks and hands. She'll be able to float around in the water for a little bit with you before you put her down for a nap. The steps of your morning are perfectly planned so that you can have your solo Zoom session with Trinity.
There is a small river behind the house you're staying in. The water goes up to just above your breast and it's the perfect warmth at this time of day. You've made your way down to it and are now setting up Anya's towel for when she'll be too tired to entertain you and ready for her mid-day snooze. She's currently lying right by you looking up at the sky with such curiosity, probably trying to figure out what the hell clouds are.
"You're so curious my love!" you shake her gently as you smile widely. "What do you see up there?" as you look up to join her sky-gazing you spot Harry making his way to the river as well. He's only got very short grey swimming trunks on meaning his entire chest, thighs, calves, and arms are out for the whole world to see. Maybe that's an exaggerated statement as you're the only one looking right now. You want to scold yourself for staring, you really really do but he's just so... so captivating and very enjoyable to look at no matter how much you resent him at the moment.
"Mind if I join you ladies?" his voice is more cheerful than when you heard it last. Must be because he's actually speaking to and looking at Anya.
However, when you don't answer his question he looks up at you. Expression now closed off again, how it's always been for the past few months. You smile politely and nod before turning your back to both of them so you can take your robe off. Your swimsuit isn't anything special; simple black one-piece that's high on the hips and low on your back. You think it looks pretty good on you but now you feel very aware of the amount of skin you're showing. You decide to just get in the water hoping its dark colour hides you. Hides away the skin your husband might be looking at.
"Looks like mummy is in a hurry, we should join her. What do you think sweetheart?" Harry picks your baby up and makes his way into the water. He holds her tightly to his chest as he climbs in, just in case he slips on the stones he uses as stairs. Once your daughter's chubby limbs meet the water her mouth forms into an adorable "O" shape. It's the second time Anya's been in the water now so she must still be unsure about this feeling. Harry turns her so that her front faces you and her back is against him. She smiles when she spots you reaching her arms out quickly which splashes some water around. She looks at you with a shocked expression and does it again with a giggle now.
"You little troublemaker! Trying to splash me!" you tease her sending some water her way. She answers with a sweet giggle and shakes her arms around as fast as she possibly can.
"Mh, my jokester gene is strong in her" Harry's voice is laced with pride. You playfully roll your eyes at him and hum affirmatively.
"And her love for singing too" you add remembering so many moments where she hums to any song playing. Her favourite thing to do is to harmonise with her father. His deep voice always gets her attention, always gets her to mumble and hum along with her own lyrics.
"Oh yes, she's the next big thing this one" he affirms kissing the top of her small head affectionately.
It's in moments like these that you tend to forget how bad it is between you. How many horrible things you've shouted at each other not caring how deep your words could cut. The accusations, the insults, the taunts and even the lies still weigh heavy on both of you. You like these softer moments, where you're reminded of how much love you both had for each other. Have? Had? You don't know anything about your feelings anymore, they are much too complicated to understand...
All three of you stay in the river for about an hour more before Anya starts yawning and fussing. When you exit the water you're quick to slip your robe back on still overly aware. Harry wraps the fluffy towel you had gotten ready around your baby. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, her eyelids already heavy as she blinks slowly. You all walk back to the house together silently. Might it be to keep the sleepy baby calm or to keep the peaceful aura around you and your husband, you don't know.
Harry insists that he will put the sleepy girl to bed and that you should take a shower first. After all, you have the first private sessions with your therapist. The mention of her does make the air in the townhouse tense again but Anne appears immediately to kiss Anya before she naps. You use that moment to sneak into your shared room with Harry. Luckily, it has two single beds so you don't have to share with him.
Signing deeply you rid yourself of the now damp robe you had on. Another blessing in disguise, this room has an en suite bathroom so you'll be able to jump right into the shower. Before that you do want to set up your laptop for the video call, you want to be as ready as you possibly can be. You grab your device from your backpack and make your way to the small desk in the corner of the room. There's a bunch of papers scattered around it, one glance at them and you immediately know what they are.
Lyrics. Drafts of songs and melodies written by your rockstar husband. You don't mean to read any of the words you really don't but as soon as you spot your name at the top of one of the pages you're doomed. You put your laptop down on Harry's bed which is right next to the desk and reach for that exact paper.
The words you read are full of longing, pain, sadness and fear. They mourn love, they are mourning your love. You pick up another sheet of paper, this one has no title but there are so many lines written. This one is reeks of self-hatred, of shame and guilt... it shakes the weak barriers you've built around your heart. All of the lyrics you read on different papers revolve around the same emotions. These are all about your relationship. About the death of it. About his desire to turn around. You don't realise you're crying until a tear falls onto the paper you hold. The ink bleeds into itself where it's been wet blurring the words slightly. You quickly wipe your face and put the papers down. You shouldn't be looking at these, you're invading his privacy.
"Thought you were showering" Harry's voice startles you out of the chair. You meet the floor with a loud thud. Your tear-filled eyes meet his sharp ones. Scrambling up to your feet you grab your laptop ready to explain, ready to apologise over and over again.
"At least tell me what you think" he sighs walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. This shocks you. What does he mean? He, he's not mad? Isn't disappointed that you invaded his creative space? Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsure what you should answer.
"I'm sorry" is all you're able to get out. Your brain is blank in absolute fear but tears keep falling from your eyes.
"I should be apologising... you, you weren't supposed to see those" he walks in your direction slowly, testing the waters of how close you'll let him get. He's closer than arm's reach when you flinch backwards slightly and he stops immediately.
"I was going to ask you for your permission before making any of those full songs but you know music is how I cope" he whispers now that he's so close to you. Silence takes over the room again, stretching out for too long. Your eyes somehow keep producing tears as you try and speak. Hopelessly searching for words to say.
"Do you really miss us? You miss me?" is what you come up with, your voice is so shaky that you're on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably.
This shocks Harry in place, seemingly not prepared for that kind of questioning from you. His mouth gapes and his eyes grow wide. This time you do see his hands start shaking. You're not entirely sure what this emotion is.
"Of course I do. Did you not think so?" while still whispering he reaches out to hold you but stops himself hands falling at his sides.
"Yo- Harry, you asked for the divorce. How was I supposed to know you miss me?" your voice breaks. You don't understand, why is this happening now, why is he saying these things?
-
"We should just get a divorce" Harry snaps at you as he fights back tears. Your expression immediately closes up, your body reacting before your thoughts and words do. Protecting you from what he just said, building walls around you and your heart as quickly as possible.
"Fine" you spit out as you turn away from him and walk straight out of your bedroom. If that's what he wants then so be it. You won't beg for anything now that he's made his decision.
-
"I know, okay? I know that I asked for it and that it's the reason why you don't talk to me anymore. Well, you do but not really" he sighs and sits down on his bed, damn swim trunks wetting the bed "We talk about Anya and when we're not we are yelling at each other... so when was I supposed to tell you that I missed you? That I regretted asking for the divorce..." he looks at you with a guilty expression, all his emotions are coming up at once.
"Why did you ask for it?" you ask him sitting back on the desk chair with your laptop still in your hands.
"I got in my head. You were saying we should take some time for ourselves maybe live apart... with everything that kept being said about us, I got so scared" he takes your laptop out of your grip and puts it down next to him.
"I thought you were going to fight me on it..." he adds as he grabs your hands tenderly. Like he's afraid you'll break.
You shake your head in disbelief not sure what to say. Your thoughts are all over the place, what should you make of this?
"It broke my heart" When did his face get so close to yours? You should really move away. You can't fall back into him, you can't let yourself do that. So you pull away from him roughly, your hands tugging out of his hold, face moving to the side, a sob making its way out of you as your back meets the chair-back.
When you meet Harry's eyes you can see the pain, the hurt, in them. They are brimming with tears that are so close to spilling out.
"Are we... are we too broken?" his voice has dropped to a whisper. He sounds so sad and scared.
"I'm worried" You take in a few breaths before you speak again, "What if we just end up hurting each other again? What if we can't go back?" you choke out the last few words. Tears spill endlessly out of your eyes and sobs rack your entire body.
It feels like you're running out of air and the little bits you get in are painful. Your eyes burn as you cry and your hands are shaking like crazy.
Harry might be answering or trying to communicate but nothing is making its way past your meltdown. What does make it through is the feeling of his arms around you. Him pulling you against his chest tightly, immediately rubbing your back as soothingly as he can. Your hands are grabbing his still bare skin desperately, wanting to anchor yourself in any way you can. Your face rests on his peck, right above his heart, the frantic beating bouncing around your head.
"Breathe, you have to breathe love" he speaks delicately in your ear, breaking through the barrier your body has put up.
"I'm- I'm, I can't... Harry I can't" your clawing at him almost trying to get under his skin, someplace you might be able to understand everything that's going through his mind.
He wiggles around a little before laying you both down as he keeps reassuring and encouraging you. He drags you on top of him your face now pressed up against the juncture of his neck. Your left-hand makes its way into his hair, pulling at it as softly as you can manage. Harry's hands run up and down your back, your arms, and your neck and he even pets your hair delicately. He's always known how to best calm you down... how to bring you back down to earth and out of the panic attacks you sometimes get when you're overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he repeats that over and over with a pained desperation. Harry's scared shitless too. He doesn't know how things will go with your relationship. He can't guarantee that you won't end up actually wanting a divorce one day... But he can love you. He has and will keep loving you. He hopes it'll be enough to save your marriage. He'll work incredibly hard every single day to prove his love for you... if you let him back in he won't ever let you go. He'll leave it all up to you. Your little family is all he needs, he'll spend the rest of his life proving that to you if that's what it takes.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles angst#harry styles fic
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the big day
wc: 0.4k
summary: just a cute lil wedding blurb
a/n: I'm feeling cute things. send help.
cw: none! just cute stuff!
Harry’s nervous. Months of mutual planning have gotten him to this point, and he’s nervous; In the best way possible. Tufts of off-white mixed with greenery decorate the pillars of the aisle; each delicate flower placed with a purpose along the handmade garland. He stands at the end, hands in the pockets of his slacks as his mind begins to race, but not before a hand is placed on his shoulder to knock him out of his trance. He turns, a set of hands comes to smooth the lapels of his jacket, and to adjust the boutonniere on the left hand side. A soft tap to his cheek really snaps him out of it. “Your time to shine, buddy,” his friend whispers. He nods in response and releases a breath he wasn't aware he was holding before turning around.
Spouts of hushed murmurs between the guests as they wait for the event to unfold before them as they’re instructed to stand. Sounds of I Get To Love You by Ruelle come from the piano as they all turn around and all eyes are now on you, standing at the other end of the aisle, veil covering your face and your arm looped around your fathers. A delicate burgundy flower arrangement placed in your hands as they shake ever so tenderly.
All eyes are on you, but your eyes are on him. He looks divine; suit pressed perfectly across the planes of his body, chestnut curls laid in all the right places. Tears in his emerald eyes as he takes you in for the first time in this state. "How lucky am I?" flashes through his brain. He thought you were beautiful when he saw you for the first time when you were sixteen; but oh no, nothing would ever compare to you now. The soft white fabrics perfectly sprawled along your frame; intricate lace patterns decorate the lengths of your arms, and the perfect sweetheart neckline that perfectly shows off the gift he sent you this morning; a platinum “Mrs” pendant to hang perfectly against the dip of your clavicle.. He thinks you look serene. He can’t wait to peel the veil from your face to really get a good look at the woman he fell in love with all those years ago.
Reaching the end of the aisle, he takes his stand next to you and your father. “Who gives this woman to this man?” The minister asks. “Her mother and I do,” your father answers beside you. Your father then turns and places your hand in your future husbands’. “Remember, I’ll go back to jail,” your father warns. Harry knows your father has never actually been to jail, but he nods anyway with a smile before he steps in unison with you to your respective spots and everybody takes their seats before the minister proceeds.
“You ready?” you whisper to him as the minister speaks. “I was born ready to marry you,” He whispers back.
c/n: thank you for reading!
#harry styles#harry x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry Edward style#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles writing#harry styles x you#hary styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff
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Teenage Dirtbag*
Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.
Word Count: 5.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!
“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”
“27.”
“Harry, come on.”
“What?”
“I need an answer.”
“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”
Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be studying.”
“We are.”
“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"
“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?”
“Mm.”
“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”
“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”
“27.”
“Harry.”
He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”
He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”
“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”
“Oh, did I? Oops.”
“You’re mean.”
“Yeah. But you like me.”
“Not right now.”
“Yes now. Always.”
You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”
“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”
“Harry—”
“What, angel?”
You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”
“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”
“We agreed to study.”
“We are.”
“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”
“So?”
“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”
“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.
You grab the cards. “Oops.”
Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat.
“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”
“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”
“Because I have you.”
“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”
“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”
You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”
“Mm…for now.”
“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”
Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”
“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”
You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”
“What? They’re just words, baby.”
“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”
He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”
You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”
“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”
“Harry…”
“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”
You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”
“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”
You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.
You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.
His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.”
Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”
He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it.
The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.
However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.
Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.
“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”
“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.
“I know. But today is not that day.”
Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.
“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.
You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.
He winks.
With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.
And every trace of Harry has gone.
“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”
“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”
“Deal.”
You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.
Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present.
You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.
Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.
But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.
You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.
He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.
And that’s when he finds you.
Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.
He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.
“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”
A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.
“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”
Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.
Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.
And the same earrings you’re wearing now.
But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”
You smirk. “You guess?”
“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”
To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.
“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”
You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”
“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”
“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.
He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.
He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before.
Compared to them, you’re just…you.
Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.
You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.
“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”
You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.
“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”
“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”
“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”
You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”
You lean back. “You saw?”
“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”
“H…”
“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”
He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret.
And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.
And you’ll be devastated.
Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.
He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.
Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.
“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”
“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”
Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”
He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”
“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”
“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”
“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress.
You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you.
You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”
Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”
“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”
The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.
“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.
You swallow. “…yes.”
“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”
You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”
“Mhm. Not Zack.”
“No. No, not Zack.”
He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”
Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…
You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.
He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.
He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.
“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”
“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”
And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.
You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.
And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.
His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still.
You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.
“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”
You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”
“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”
And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside.
You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.
But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.
“What…what did I do?” you pant.
He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”
He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”
“I…I know.”
“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”
You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”
“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”
“Oh…”
His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”
Your lips part. “You…oh.”
“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”
“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”
It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”
Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.
And that’s your favorite part.
“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”
You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants.
He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”
You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.
You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking.
“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”
You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”
You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body.
You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”
Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.
The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.
And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.
But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again.
And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.
“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”
“Mm…mhm.”
“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”
With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.
“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”
You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.
“Okay. Keep going.”
You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them.
“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”
“Ye—yeah.”
“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”
Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it.
And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again.
The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.
Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.
“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”
You only mewl. Loud and incoherent.
He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.
His bandana.
It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.
“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”
Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”
“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”
Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.
“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”
You nod.
“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”
Your lashes flutter.
“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”
Another nod, slower.
“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”
Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.
The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth.
Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric.
He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more.
And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.
“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”
You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum.
“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”
Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.
“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”
You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.
So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.
Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling.
He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.
He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”
He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.
You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything.
And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either.
“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.
You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”
“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”
“Mhm. Very.”
“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”
“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”
His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”
“Mm…unlikely.”
“But maybe.”
“Maybe not.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Might hurt.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”
“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”
“Tell her you’re staying.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”
“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”
The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”
His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”
He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.
Until the door opens.
And Zack walks in.
God I love fratrry 😭💞
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Next Door Neighbors | Part 2
neighbor!harry x reader
Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.
A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!
Word Count: 5k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff
. . .
Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.
Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.
He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.
But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.
You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.
“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.
“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.
“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.
“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.
Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”
You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.
“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”
“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”
And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.
Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.
Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.
You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.
“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.
“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”
“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”
You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”
Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”
You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”
Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.
“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.
Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”
He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.
Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.
There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”
Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”
You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”
Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”
His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”
His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”
He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”
Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.
“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”
You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.
Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.
“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.
You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”
Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.
“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.
And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?
“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.
“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.
You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”
Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”
You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”
You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”
Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.
You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.
He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.
You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.
“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”
You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.
“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”
Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”
You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”
His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”
Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”
The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”
Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.
He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.
And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.
You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.
Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.
Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”
You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.
He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.
His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.
You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.
You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.
He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”
You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?
He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?
You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.
You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.
A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.
Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.
He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.
A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.
“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.
Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.
His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.
Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.
He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.
You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.
You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.
“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”
You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”
He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”
You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.
“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”
Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”
You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.
You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.
He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.
You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.
“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”
Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.
“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”
You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.
You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.
You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.
“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.
“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.
You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.
When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”
He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”
You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”
He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”
You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”
Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.
“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.
“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”
Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”
You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”
“Definitely, yeah.”
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bartender!harry x you
your favorite bartender names a drink for you, and you're almost convinced its the end of the world, until your heart leads you back to him.
featuring: soft!harry, an apology, and a cat named Sylvester.
tw: 18+!!, mentions drinking, angst, lots and lots of fluff, soft smut, small itty bitty breeding kink if u squint really hard.
wc: 5k
marigold
A typical Saturday night for you looked like this:
One too many whiskey shots, karaoke with your friends, and passed out on the way home in the uber someone ordered.
This Saturday wasn’t any different so far.
You had just gotten off the stage, out of breath from singing Strawberry Wine a little too loudly with your friends. You wove your way through crowds of sweaty bodies and made your way to the bar in the back.
And there he was. Your favorite person on earth.
The bartender.
It wasn’t because he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, or the fact that he listened to you whenever you were spiraling wistfully through your drunken thoughts.
It mostly just came down to the fact that he made really good drinks.
Harry knew exactly how you liked your whiskey, at what point in the night you’d want a margarita to cool off with (usually after the karaoke), and he knew when to cut you off before you regretted it the next morning.
So when you stumbled over to the bar looking for his signature smirk, he was already sliding the glass across the lacquered surface, placing a lime on the rim once you settled yourself on the barstool across from him. He went back to washing glasses, biceps flexing and relaxing between motions under the sleeves of his black tee as you sip on your drink.
He watches you out of the corner of his eye, keeping you within earshot while some prick named Garret flirts with you. It almost hurt his feelings when he didn’t hear you rejecting his embarrassingly cheesy advances. He knew he could treat you better than any other asshole in this place, so it always surprised him when you would leave with one of them. He just wanted you to be safe, and he knew that the men that frequented his bar weren’t some of the finest to grace your presence. He would try his hand at flirting with you, tell you how nice you looked, and use his pick up lines that worked with so many others.
But they never worked on you...or so he thought.
You were an enigma to him, a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.
“Leave me alone, Garret. I’m not leaving with you tonight.” He heard you mumble, however, Garret was persistent. He glances over out of the corner of his eye and sees that Garret has you cornered in your seat, his arm around the back of your chair and the other steadied on the bar as he leaned into you. You were trying to create space, but he was practically pushing you up against the wall and Harry didn’t like that. He threw the towel over his shoulder and turned to face the situation.
“Garret, she said she wasn’t leaving with you. I suggest you get lost, unless you want to be barred from my establishment.” He says calmly, but firm. He leans his weight into his own arms placed on the bar, muscles flexing and veins popping, cocking an eyebrow upwards as he watches Garret intently. Harry's eyes never leave Garret as his flick between the two of you. He mumbles expletives under his breath before pushing from the bar and stumbling away. Harry hears you breathe out a sigh you had been holding in and when his eyes meet yours you smile.
“Thanks. He’s relentless.” You pause. “Sometimes I go home with him so he’ll just leave me alone.” You confess and he’s never heard you say anything like this before, he's not even sure you understood what you implied. Instead of replying immediately, he listens. Listens to you ramble about Garret and every other guy that attempts to win you over with their drunken pick up lines. He was scrubbing a glass, lost in his thoughts, thinking how it would look to have you upstairs in his apartment, dancing around the kitchen with each other when you clear your throat, plucking him from his daydreams.
“I asked you a question, Har.” You giggle as you sip through the straw in your glass.
“Sorry, flower. I was a little distracted.” He peeks over, smirking. “What did you ask?”
“I asked if there was anyone special in your life.” Curiosity getting the better of you, because he always listens to what you have to say and you're tired of talking about yourself. He'd never talked about a girlfriend before and you're not sure how someone as beautiful as him could be single.
“If you count my cat, Sylvester. Otherwise, no.” He informs you and you widen your eyes.
“You have a cat?” Your words slur together in disbelief and he nods.
“Does that surprise you?” He asks with a chuckle.
“Just don’t strike me as the cat type.” You pause, thoughts swirling through your head. “I want to meet him.”
“I promise you don’t. He’s a terrorist.” He jokes, laughing between his words. “I found him outside under the dumpster when he was just a baby…I haven’t known peace for a single day since.” He says in a serious tone and it makes you laugh. He brings down bottles of liquor and mixes and juices from the shelf above his head and mixes up concoctions, tasting them before pouring them out. To you, it seems like a waste. You let him go on for a while longer before you decide to interrupt.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Just been working on a new signature to add to the menu. Can’t get the ratio quite right though.” He mutters and you watch as his hands move expertly around the bottles, mixing exact ratios without having to measure them out.
You chat for a while longer, enjoying his company until your friends find you and they’re ready to leave. You tell him goodbye and he watches you until you disappear out the door, wishing he had the guts to tell you how he feels outright instead of dancing around the topic, and how he only has eyes for you every time you come in here.
You’re the sole reason why he works on Saturdays.
He’ll never forget the first time he saw you at his bar. He was upstairs in his apartment reading when he looked at the clock and noticed it was nearing closing time, an hour or so left until the straggling patrons would be forced out and he knew that last-call had already been announced. He went down to see if the bartender working needed help with anything before he turned in for the night, and when he stepped in he saw you laughing with your friends at a high top table.
It was over for him then.
He hung around for the next hour, nursing a draft in a glass he poured himself and fighting the sleep begging to take over his body. Your group wasn’t paying attention when all the lights came on, brightening the dimmed room, you didn’t notice you were the last ones here and if he was waiting for an excuse to talk to you…that was it. He made his way to you, weaving through chairs and tables and when you looked at him, finally, he almost lost the words he wanted to say. Stuttering over them, he felt embarrassed as you smiled at him and you and your friends hopped from your stools and left, but not before he mustered the courage to ask you if you were coming back anytime soon and you nodded, informing him that you and your friends had been coming every Saturday for a few months now, his bar quickly had become their favorite spot. He felt guilty that he hadn’t paid attention before, but he made sure he was the one behind the bar every Saturday since then.
Now, here you were. Walking out laughing with your friends, like you did every Saturday, without a second look back at him…even though he willed it to happen every time.
Yet, he couldn’t wait until next week to do it over again.
Next Saturday comes and it’s unfamiliar territory for you this time. It was your turn to be the designated driver, you and your friends trying not to pay excessive amounts for rideshares anymore. While your friends make their way to a table, you detour to the bar and when your eyes meet Harry's, his hardened expression turns to something lighter as you approach. He’s smiling, a toothy grin that has you biting the inside of your cheek and looking at the floor.
Maybe it was the lighting…or maybe it was the idea of him. You had never really seen him while you were in a sober mindset and this was a different dynamic. He knew the drunk you, the one who was confident and not afraid of anything.
Truth be told, you were a little nervous to talk to him. He always pushed shots towards you when you walked in, and you were grateful for the confidence boost it gave you because otherwise you didn’t think you’d even approach him.
But it’s hard to remind yourself that you don’t need to be nervous, it’s just Harry.
“There’s my flower.” He greets you with the nickname he penned for you after a few weeks of chatting and getting to know you. He pushes the shot towards you but you shake your head as you hop up onto the bar stool and he cocks an eyebrow at you, confused at your refusal. “Are you sick? Do I need to take you to the ER?” He jokes and you laugh.
“No, actually. I’m just taking on the role of designated driver tonight.” You rest your chin in your hand and sigh. He replaces the whiskey with a glass of ice water feigning hesitation, mouthing a “sorry” as he moves down the bar to take other orders.
He’s busy for a while so you sit and watch him sling drinks and pour drafts. He’s comfortable, he’s confident, and you feel a sense of longing for him, willing him to come back over and talk with you…and you wonder why you’d never accepted his advances before. It could be that you were scared, not thinking he was serious and that he was just being a friendly bartender. You were always drunk and the alcohol clouded your judgment slightly.
But you always knew when he was flirting. He would clear your tab, and you would walk out paying literally nothing more often than not. He wouldn’t even let you tip him because he refused to take your money and he insisted that he made enough.
As if he could read your mind, he came back over and was breathing heavily out of breath from trying to keep up, the amount of people in the bar nearing capacity. Still, he smiles at you and as he’s catching his composure he grabs bottles from the shelf above him.
“Remember that drink I was making last week?” He asks and you search your memory to pinpoint the moment he was talking about. You faintly recall him mixing drinks and tasting them before dumping them down the drain, so you nod. “I think I finally got it right.” He says while pouring the concoction, placing it in your view once it was complete, then he perches an orange on the rim and slides it towards you.
“I said I wasn’t drinking.” You joke, knowing a sip won't be enough to have you feeling any effects, bringing the glass up to your nose and sniffing, the scent of citrus and schnapps filling your nostrils and when you sip, there’s a hint of something floral that you can’t quite place. It’s perfectly layered, the orange fading into yellow seamlessly like a sunrise left unblemished in a cloudless sky, shimmering just slightly in the low lit atmosphere.
And it’s so good.
“Do you like it?” He asks, waiting for your response and shifting his weight nervously. He needed it to be perfect for you…because it was for you. You nod, swallowing and meeting his eyes.
“It’s delicious. What are you calling it?” You ask and the corner of his mouth pulls up in a half grin.
“I think I’m going to call it a Marigold Sunrise.” He says, the volume of his voice almost getting lost in the chatter around you both and you could’ve sworn you misheard him.
“I’m sorry?” You almost choke, sputtering over your words. “Marigold?”
“Yeah, actually. I remember one night you told me they were your favorite. I added the floral notes, I think that’s what it was missing. It's yours. I made it for you.”
Your head spins momentarily at his words. He remembered? You were sure that conversation happened over a year ago. You stare at him, blinking with a blank expression painted over your face. You don’t know how to react. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a drink.
Except your mind convinces you this makes things more complicated than they need to be. He’s just the bartender at the bar you frequent, this meant you were going to have to find somewhere else to go, because you couldn’t actually spend your time here anymore knowing he probably expects you to give him something in return.
But he’s not just a bartender. He’s Harry. The reason why you come here. The reason why your friends tease you incessantly on the way home every Saturday…because you’re always watching him when he isn’t looking, slotting yourself behind the bar with him in your doe-eyed daydreams. Daydreams you thought would never come to fruition.
“Harry, this is…too much.” The words tumble from your lips before you really think about them. His brows pull together, confusion lacing his eyes.
“What? I thought—”
“Whatever you thought, save it. I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this.” Your tone is harsher than you wanted it to be. You push the glass away and gather your things, walking away from him without so much as a glance back. You find your friends, apologizing for ruining their fun but that you would take them somewhere else, wanting to be anywhere but here.
Harry stands behind the bar, dumbfounded and lost on what he did wrong. He watches you leave, holding the door for your friends. Your head moves slightly, and he can just make out the outline of your profile. He thinks you’re going to look back at him, come back and explain to him what he did to make you react this way.
But you don’t.
This time he doesn’t know if you’ll come back.
The street was quiet and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, blue hue taking over the dark of the night. The bar was dark except for the light left on behind the bar and the neon hanging on the walls. He might even already be in bed. After you left earlier, your friends requested a bar on the other side of town and you drove them there on autopilot, sitting at a table staring blankly at the wall, the sounds around you muffled from lack of focus on your part. When they were ready to leave, you got them home safely and aimlessly drove around with no destination in mind. You let your mind wander, and after you finally placed your feelings you found you had subconsciously made your way back to him, back to the bar. Like your heart was making your decision without you even realizing. Like it knew where you needed to be.
So you forced yourself out of the driver's seat and timidly made your way to the door. You didn’t know if he would be able to hear you, but you knocked on the glass of the front door anyway. You hug yourself around your torso, the chill of the night air making you shiver slightly. After a moment you’re about to give up, but you see him come around the corner and his eyes widen at the sight of you, his expression reading that he very much was not expecting you to show up at this time, or even at all. The bar closed at 3:00 AM and it was nearing 5 as you stood there waiting for him to open the door.
“Come in, it’s freezing out there.” He says as the barrier between you swings open, the bell above ringing in your ears. You step inside, finding reprieve in the warmth of the bar. You watch him in the afterglow of the neon. It feels out of place, being here in the early hours of the morning, neither of you having had any sleep yet and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. You look towards the floor, fiddling with your fingers and you feel terrible that you’re keeping him from sleep, which you’re sure he’d rather be doing after the way you left him earlier.
“I’m sorry, I’m interrupting your rest. I should just go, I don’t know why I came.” You say sheepishly, gesturing a thumb towards the door and you almost turn around before he grabs your arm before you get the chance.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re here. I was almost asleep.” He yawns, stretching his arms over his head and you shake your head.
“This can wait, really. I’ll let you go back to—”
“Flower, I said it was okay. I want you here.” His eyes search yours for a moment before he looks away, towards the stairs that lead up to his apartment. “Do you want to come up? I’ll get you some water.” He nods his head behind him and you nod wordlessly, following him as he takes you to a peek inside of his personality. You stay silent as he grabs a glass from his cupboard and moves through the small kitchen. You allow your eyes to wander around his space, and it’s not anything like you were expecting. You would never think a bar owner lives here, and if you had to describe it, it would be something like a masculine dark academia with a modern twist throughout the interior. He sits the glass in front of you before leaning against the opposite counter and you feel your nerves bubble in your throat when you remember why you’re here.
“Harry…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away like that earlier. I really am flattered that you made your new signature something for me.” You pause, collecting your thoughts for a second before speaking again. “I’ve just never had anyone make anything for me before, I’ve never had some grand gesture done for me.” You motion with your hands, ultimately letting them fall against your lap again. “I know it sounds silly, and that might not be grand to any normal person, but I got scared…” Trailing off, you look down at your hands in your lap. “I don’t even know why I got scared. I really like you, and I don’t want to scare you away.”
The silence is deafening, the clock ticking on the wall counting the seconds as dawn creeps into the sky. You think he isn’t going to say anything.
Then he clears his throat.
“You could never scare me away.” You force your eyes to meet his. He comes around the counter, closing the space between you slightly. He stands in front of you, searching your face for anything he can find, as if he’s memorizing every freckle, the dip of your nose, the pink of your lips, everything he never wants to forget. “I want you…all of you. Everything you’re afraid of. Every good, every bad, everything in between. I want it all.” He steps forward and takes your hands between his, bringing them to his lips and kissing over your palm once. Resting his cheek against it, you cup his face, tilting your head slightly and biting the inside of your lip to keep your emotions at bay.
You’re both silent for a beat, conveying feelings through subtle glances ghosting over each other's features. You’d never seen him this close before.
He’s right here.
And he’s yours.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper and you nod once, slightly sucking in a breath, preparing for him to surge forward. He shocks you when he doesn’t.
His touch is gentle, featherlight over your jawline and your exhale is shaky, nervous like you’ve never been kissed before.
Your mind wants to wander…wants to get lost down the memory lane of bad lovers and all the times your subconscious thought of him, how it manifested him in your dreams.
His lips brush over yours and pull you from your thoughts. His hand wraps around the back of your neck, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck and he pulls you closer. His tongue darting out to wet his lips before he presses them to yours…and you melt, sighing against him as you fist his shirt. He was hesitant, like he was testing your boundaries.
You wanted him to know you were all in.
He pulls away just far enough to meet your eyes and if he were being honest, he thinks you’ll run from him again.
You’re thinking how the kiss didn’t last nearly long enough.
“Kiss me again. Please.” You whisper, and he doesn’t hesitate, bringing his lips back to yours like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. This kiss is more than the first.
More desire…more eagerness…more everything.
His hands find your hips and pull you closer to him, dancing lightly under the hem of your shirt and your skin burns under his touch as you part your thighs and he slots himself between them. Your arms link around the back of his neck, pulling him closer and arching against him. His hands splayed across your back, feeling his want for you growing between your bodies and it makes your belly flip. Your hands drop from his shoulders, running over the expanse of his biceps and mapping their way to his waistline, dipping below the band of his sweats and palming over the fabric of his briefs eliciting a groan that transfers from his mouth to yours. He pulls your wrists from his body and pulls away from your lips, looking at you with dark eyes and his chest rapidly rising and falling trying to catch his breath.
“We don’t have to—I don’t expect you to sleep with me. I hope you know that I’m not just doing this to get myself off.” He places your hands against his chest, holding them there. “I meant it when I said I want all of you.”
“I know. I want all of you, too.” You whisper and he smiles. “I just want to show you how much.” You fist his shirt again and pull him back down to you. “Please let me.” You mutter against his lips, pecking lightly and he nods. He tugs at your hand, pulling you to a stance from your place at the counter and he leads you into his room.
Once there, he pushes you gently onto the bed and climbs over you planting kisses over the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck pulling a whimper from your mouth and he travels lower. He pushes your shirt up and runs his nose along the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its path before you pull it over your head and throw it across the room. He smiles against you, crawling up and finding your face while peppering small kisses over your cheeks and the tip of your nose. His forehead meets yours and your eyes flutter closed.
“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of having you like this, flower.” He mumbles and you hum, a dopey smile playing on your lips.
His fingers caper down your torso, finding the button of your jeans and flicking it open with a certain expertise. You help him push them off your waist while your lips meet his once more, the naturally sweet taste of his tongue like candy on yours is something you would crave for the rest of your life. He disrobes his own clothes, barely breaking from your lips to pull his shirt over his head and tossing it towards the same general area as yours.
He spreads you open with his fingers, trailing a digit through your arousal and you shudder at his gentle touch. He teases your aching hole, petting over it continuously, drawing a whine from your throat.
“Tell me what you want, angel.” His voice is low, gravelly in the back of his throat. “Already know, just need to hear you say it.”
“You. Just need to feel you.” The intonation in your voice is nothing short of begging, and he’s not wasting time. He doesn’t want to play, doesn’t want to tease any more than he already has—barely has. He’s just as impatient as you are, fisting his cock and pumping once…twice before he drags the tip through to collect you all over him.
The feel of the most intimate part of him against you sends fireworks bursting through your belly. He lines up, pushing himself in and you both release a sigh, something just felt like it was falling into place. Like it was always supposed to be this way.
He halts when he’s fully in, pausing briefly to let you adjust to the stretch. Your hands grip around his biceps, indenting the muscle beneath his skin and he sets his pace…slow and sensual. You can feel it all, a fire igniting in your heart at every grunt and every groan he doesn’t hold back from you. You let your hands wander down the length of his torso, wrapping around his back and leaving the shapes of crescents in his skin. The sensation forces him to drop his head into your chest, licking and kissing down the valley between your tits as you arch your back, wanting him impossibly closer than he already is.
His pace picks up, his hips meeting yours with more fervor than before. Your eyes flutter closed again and he supports his weight above you on one arm. His movements never falter as he wraps one hand around the back of your neck and forces your mouth on his, teeth clashing and his tongue slips in. He moans into your mouth, the sound so sinful that you clench around him.
“Fuck, if you keep squeezing me like that m’not gonna last.” He mutters with a shaky breath. You smirk, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking lightly before letting the plump skin bounce back into place. He chuckles and you push his sweaty curls away from his forehead. You pull him down to you, your mouth just over his ear and you taste the saltiness on his skin as you lick a path up his neck and he swears under his breath.
“Want you to cum for me, Har. Please. Need to feel it. Need you to fill me.” You whine into his ear and he mutters something incoherent.
“Need you to first, flower.” He pants through gritted teeth. His thrusts become hurried. He’s hitting every spot that you need him to, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before sliding back into you in a way that has you so close, your resolve dancing on the thinnest of tightropes. He brings his hand to his mouth, spitting on his fingers before slotting it between the two of you, petting slow circles over your clit, and you tumble over.
“I’m gonna cum.” You say, your voice fading into a whimper when you feel the familiar burst of pleasure dance down your spine straight to your core. Your walls flutter around him, willing for him to spill inside of you. The stimulation sends him falling from his own cliff, his hips stutter before you feel his cock twitching and the warmth of him painting you and he drops his forehead to your collarbone, riding out his high slowly.
The both of you lay there, catching breaths for a moment while you run your fingers through his hair and down his back and back up again. Your thighs were still wrapped around him, but you let them fall to the bed and he hums as he slides out, laying beside you and tangling his fingers with yours. You turn towards him and smile
Wordlessly, you revel in each other's presence. He traces your jawline with the back of his hand, you poke his cheek with your finger and he laughs. He stands, pulling you with him into the bathroom. He starts the shower, pulling you to his chest and kissing you lazily while the water heats up.
In the shower, he spoils you a bit, washing your hair for you while you lean into his touch, your back pressing against him as he works his fingers on your scalp deliciously. He takes special care of washing over your skin with sudsy soap and if you weren’t so tired you probably would’ve entertained him with round 2 in the shower. Instead, when he rinses you off he sends you on your way and informs you what drawer he keeps his shirts in while he cleans himself.
Clad in an old, washed-out band shirt, you flop onto his bed and under the covers, exhaustion quickly setting in. You hear the water shut off, but not before you feel the mattress sink from some other presence in the room. Your eyes open and see who must be Sylvester coming closer to you and you grin, extending your hand to him and he sniffs before nudging his head against your fingers. He makes a spot beside you, curling his tail around himself as Harry steps from the bathroom.
He dresses himself and joins you, a look of confusion passing over his face in the orange glow of the rising sun filtering in through the window. You mirror it back to him and he laughs.
“He doesn’t even do that with me.” He informs you, gesturing to Sylvester fast asleep by your legs and you smile tiredly. “Now you really can’t leave.” He whispers, planting a kiss to your forehead before finding his own comfort under the duvet.
And lucky for Sylvester, you didn’t plan on going anywhere.
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tongue-tied
synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk
word count: 3.1k
contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying
a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3
. . .
“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time.
She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves.
Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.
“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”
Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed.
Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another.
Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was.
Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter.
It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.
A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.
When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond.
Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk.
Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time.
Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday.
Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age.
Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade.
“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.
“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.
“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her.
Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?”
Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb.
“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.”
“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.”
“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to.
Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?”
“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.
“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.” He thought.
Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured.
“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,”
She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.”
So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words.
“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter.
“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time.
Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise.
They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves.
Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn.
“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on.
Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.”
“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.
“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.
“Fine,” She sighs dramatically.
She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book.
Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.”
Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.”
Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside.
“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.”
He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’
Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.”
Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered.
Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time.
It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart.
Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad.
They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,”
Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement.
“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”
“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her.
“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily.
Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.
“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully.
When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom.
. . .
Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them.
He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning.
She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it.
So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom.
“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached.
“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak.
Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class.
He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door.
“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly.
“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well.
Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.”
Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class.
By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said.
Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.
“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist.
“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed.
“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her.
“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly.
“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”
“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.
“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”
“Did you win?” Y/N asked.
Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”
“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite.
“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.
“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly.
“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.”
Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.
#softgirlsundays#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#fic rec#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic rec#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles writing#writing#fanfic rec#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you
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“Tension”
famoushusband!Harry x you
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: very angsty (y/n & Harry fighting), choking, degradation, edging, slight bondage (wrists are held down by hands), a brief mommy kink and unprotected sex
Plot: You’ve been missing Harry since he was currently in LA on business, so he flies you in from your home together in NY (where you work). You attend a party together, and you end up walking up on something that Harry never intended for you to hear.
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The car was silent as you and Harry sat in the backseat. You were resting the back of your fingers against your lips as you stared out the window - body slightly turned to be facing the door instead of your husband. You were having a hard time even looking at him right now even though you knew he was glancing over to you every few minutes.
You were doing your best to remain calm, your sadness from earlier had now turned into anger, and you knew that if you opened your mouth to speak, you’d be creating a scene in front of the driver.
Once you saw the gates of your home, you felt a little better knowing you’d be somewhere familiar to deal with your emotions - regardless of the cause of your anger being with you. The car pulled up to the front door, and you thanked the driver before stepping out. Your heels crunched against the rocks in the driveway for a moment before you met the stone steps leading up to the front door.
You weren’t waiting for Harry. You didn’t want to wait for Harry. Truly, you wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
You had been together for almost eight years total, married for two, and never once did you think you’d hear him make the remarks about you that he had tonight. It caused you to spiral - it made you rethink your entire relationship.
Once you made it inside the house, you left the door open behind you as you walked up the stairs towards your bedroom. As you walked into the room, you heard the front door close, but you chose to ignore it - ignore him. You were standing by your vanity as you began to remove your earrings, tossing them into the drawer before discarding all of your other jewelry except for the set on your ring finger.
You stared at the two rings for a moment, sadness welling in your being before you heard Harry step into the bedroom.
“Can we at least talk about this, Y/N?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you stated as you dropped your hand. “You feel the way you feel.”
Harry cleared his throat as he leaned against your dresser - arms crossed over his chest. “I misspoke.”
“Did you?” You laughed as you sat at the foot of your bed, beginning to undo the straps of your heels as you continued to avoid looking at him. “Because misspeaking is a word, or a sentence. Not an entire goddamn rant, Harry.”
You watched as he hung his head out of the corner of your eye - chin meeting his chest. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way that it did.”
“That’s just another way of saying you misspoke.”
You pulled your heels off and dropped them onto the floor before propping your elbows up on your knees - practically burying your face in your forearms as your fingers ran through your styled hair.
“I just…I’m clearly sobered up now, but I had too much to drink. I was saying things that I didn’t mean,” Harry said as he shrugged off the jacket he had worn - draping it over the back of the armchair in the corner of the room.
Humming, you nodded at his words. “The fact that it took your friend to cut you off because they noticed I had walked up speaks volumes. You would’ve just kept going. I don’t care if it was the alcohol. Sober thoughts are drunk words - ever heard that one?”
You finally looked over to him, and you watched as Harry rolled his eyes.
Now your blood truly began to boil.
“You don’t get to fucking do that, Harry. You don’t get to roll your eyes like that,” you stated, pointing a finger at him before sticking that same finger against your chest. “I have a right to be upset about this.”
You were fighting back your tears again as your hands began to shake.
These were the times that you truly hated being one of those individuals who cried when they were angry.
Harry pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he looked away from you, staring at the wall for a moment before speaking. “I just think you’re kind of overreacting right now.”
Mouth slightly gaping, you blinked at him - letting out a laugh of disbelief. “Overreacting? I’m sorry - how would you feel if you heard me saying what you said earlier?”
He didn’t say anything further, and you shook your head.
“You know what? I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m going to try and find a flight back to New York tomorrow. I really don’t understand why you flew me out here. Barely here for 24 hours,” you laughed again.
“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Harry sighed, moving his head in disagreement as he ran his thumb above his brow. “I’m going into the studio.”
“Oh, yes, go downstairs and into the studio so you can write another song about how shitty you make me feel. My pain has brought you so much success, hasn’t it? You’ll just sing everything instead of talking to me like a man,” you snapped.
It was quiet between the two of you, and you waited for Harry to say something, anything, but instead he just stared at you. Shaking your head, you spoke up again. “Don’t even bother coming back in here tonight. You can sleep in the fucking guest room.”
Standing up from the bed, you snatched your heels off the floor before heading into your en-suite - not even sparing Harry a second glance as you did so. You slammed the door shut and locked it, dropping your shoes to the ground as you rested both hands against it. Sucking in a deep breath, you allowed your forehead to fall to rest between your hands as your eyes slipped shut.
You hadn’t heard the bedroom door open back up, so you knew that Harry hadn’t left yet. After a moment, you heard the sound of him walking over to the door, and you opened your mouth to tell him to go away again, but you were met with the sound of him dropping his shoes off in front of it. The footsteps trickled away and got quieter, and you heard the bedroom door open.
“Fuck,” you heard him say sharply before the door clicked shut.
Your emotions fully took over after a few seconds, knowing that he’d be far away to not hear you, and you let out a sob of pain - pounding your fist against the door. This was the first time in your entire relationship that you doubted everything.
Pushing yourself off the surface, you approached the bathroom counter. You kept your eyes away from your reflection as you reached around to undo the zipper of your dress, pulling it down so that the garment dropped to the floor - leaving you in just your underwear. Heading over to the shower, you started it up, and while the water warmed you hung up your dress and discarded your underwear into the hamper.
Your hands shook as you pulled your hair up into a messy bun, and then you stepped into the shower.
As the water washed over your skin, you closed your eyes and did your best to push the events of tonight out of your mind, but that was easier said than done. You couldn’t stop seeing the look on Tyler’s face when he realized you had walked up on his best friend speaking poorly about his own wife. The tone of Harry’s voice rang in your ears, and a noise of distress escaped you as you dropped your face into your hands as it all came rushing back to you.
“I’m going to grab another drink, baby,” you had informed Harry as you dropped your arm from around his waist, and you pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Do you want another tequila?”
“Mhmm,” he hummed as he looked down at you. “Thanks, honey.”
Smiling, you stepped inside the house and into the kitchen so that you could grab both of you the proper refills. You had just flown into LA a few hours prior, and you practically had to rush to get ready for the two of you to make it on time, but you did it. Harry had surprised you earlier this week by telling you he had bought you a ticket to come and see him so you could attend this party with him. You had been missing him terribly, and it made your heart soar that he planned this all out on his own.
You were at the house of the VP at Columbia Records, and to be honest, you weren’t exactly sure what this whole party was about, but you were excited to accompany Harry nonetheless.
After topping Harry’s tequila off, and grabbing yourself another cocktail, you started back out onto the large patio where most of the party seemed to be hanging out.
Harry had now shifted from where you had left him, and you found him engaged in a conversation with Tyler, as well as a couple of women you hadn’t seen before.
“Thought you were coming to this party on your own, Harry,” you heard one of them say, and you stayed back a bit as you listened.
“Yeah, well, my wife has been beside herself these past couple weeks while I’ve been here for work, so I decided to fly her out.”
“Didn’t take you as one to be into the needy types,” the other woman spoke up as she curled her long fingers around her wine glass, and you watched the way her eyes trailed over your husband.
Harry chuckled at that statement, running a hand up and through his curls. “She has been rather needy lately, I’m not going to lie,” he said, and you felt your heart fall into your stomach. “It’s not like me coming out here to LA for a few months was a shock to her - this had been planned out for months now. It’s not my fault she chooses to keep a job that ties her solely to New York. Last week all she kept saying on the phone with me was how much she missed me, and how she’d had a hard time sleeping since I haven’t been home. I’m hoping this quick little weekend trip helps nip that in the bud.”
You watched as Tyler’s eyes flickered over to you from where you stood behind Harry, and he cleared his throat. “Harry.”
“I’ve been gone for way longer before, and been way further away. At least I’m in the same country as her, for Christ’s sake. Just for once I’d like to call her, and have an actual discussion - not just hear her talk about how miserable she is without me being home there. So yeah, I guess needy would be the perfect way to describe her, and you’re right, I’m not usually one to surround myself with that type of behavior.”
“Harry!” Tyler said again, this time raising his voice, and you watched as Harry looked over to him.
“What?”
Tyler looked back at you as he pointed his finger over Harry’s shoulder in your direction, and you watched as Harry turned around - his expression immediately dropping once he realized you had just heard everything he had been saying.
“Y/N,” he said as you walked forward, and you shoved his glass of tequila to his chest.
“There’s your refill,” you mumbled, not even looking at him as you walked through the middle of the little group they had formed.
You heard the women snickering behind you as you continued to walk - heading towards the lounge chairs that lined the large swimming pool in the middle of the yard. It was a good distance away from where the party was really going on, so you knew you could be alone. Harry was continuing to call out your name as you walked, but he didn’t make any movement to walk after you.
That said enough.
New tears were beginning to mix with the warm shower water as you turned around to face the stream completely. You lazily washed over your body, and you scrubbed the makeup off your face before stepping back out of the foggy glass cubicle. You were grateful that the mirrors were now fogged up as well, not wanting to see your reflection, and you stepped back into the bedroom after wrapping a towel around your torso.
Your open suitcase still remained on the side of the bed from earlier when you were in a rush to get ready, and you dug through to find the pajamas you had packed. A knot formed in your throat when you realized you had only really packed your sexiest items. You figured the two nights that you and Harry would be spending together would’ve looked a little differently than tonight did.
Sighing, you dropped the silky garments from your hands as you made your way into the closet, and you grabbed one of the boxes that was filled with some of your old t-shirts from throughout the years that you and Harry just hadn’t had a chance to go through yet. You pulled out a random shirt from your time in Las Vegas on a family trip - grateful that you always bought trip shirts so you could wear them as night shirts, having this one hit you right in the middle of your thighs once you tugged it on.
You walked back out to the suitcase, and you slipped on a pair of underwear as well before zipping up the luggage and pushing it up against the wall. Pulling the covers to the bed back, you slipped underneath them and propped up the pillows as you grabbed your phone, and you immediately pulled up the app to the airline Harry had bought your plane ticket through.
Browsing through flights, you realized that any flight that was leaving tomorrow was either going to give you an insane layover between your connecting flights, or it was going to cost almost double than what Harry had already paid. You groaned as you shut your phone off, tossing it into the bed next to you as you ran your hands over your face.
As you turned onto your side, pulling the covers right up underneath your chin, you slipped your eyes shut as you tried your best to get some rest. Maybe sleeping on this was what you needed to do rather than act irrationally, and end up doing something that you’d end up regretting in the morning.
You just couldn’t help but continue to dwell on whether or not Harry had been sick of you for a while. From the tone of his voice tonight, and the harsh words that he was speaking, you figured your suspicions had to be correct. Maybe his investment in this marriage was dwindling away, and that in itself caused your stomach to churn. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, and you shook your head as you tried to get your brain to stop.
◃───────────▹
Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized you were still in the same position as when you first tried to fall asleep. You weren’t sure if you had been out for a few minutes, or a few hours, but when you glanced at the clock to see it was a little after five in the morning, you knew you had been asleep for at least two hours. You and Harry had gotten home a little after one, and with the argument and you taking a shower, you were sure you must’ve dozed off in the three o’clock hour.
Sitting up, you looked over your shoulder and saw the bed was still made and unslept, so you knew Harry had stuck by your demand of him sleeping in the guest room. You pushed yourself up to use the bathroom quickly, and while you washed your hands, you made the decision to go and check on your husband.
You hoped that he had actually made it to bed, and that he hadn’t passed out downstairs on the couch in the studio.
As you approached the door to the guest room, you held your ear against it for a moment, but you were met with silence. You sucked in a deep breath as you opened the door as quietly as possible, and you peeked your head in to see Harry sprawled over the mattress on his back. The moonlight was just barely shining through the curtains to illuminate his figure, and you stepped into the room fully - shutting the door just as quietly as you opened it.
You glanced to the chair in the corner to see both his dress shirt and dress pants draped over the back of it, so you knew that he was sleeping in just his briefs.
You made your way over to the bed and sat down on the side of it, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you slipped his left hand out from underneath the covers - placing it in your lap. Your eyes dwelled on the gold band around his ring finger, and you felt tears burning against your waterline as you ran your fingertips over it. His other rings had been discarded, and you figured they were down in the studio as you began to twist his wedding band around.
Blinking, you sent the tears down your cheeks as you bit down harder on your lip to try and conceal the sobs that wanted to leave you.
You were going to lose him. You were sure of it.
You hadn’t even noticed that Harry had woken up, but he remained still as he felt your hands roaming all over his left one, and he felt as you began to fiddle with his wedding band. He felt your body jolt just slightly, and that’s when he knew that you had to be crying.
It caused his heart to ache, and he felt tears of his own pressing to the forefront of his lids. There was nothing he wanted more than to take back all the harsh words he had spoken earlier at the party. The tequila had caused his head to swim, and when he heard those women making comments about you being needy, he just snapped. He wasn’t sure why he allowed those comments to get under his skin.
Sure, you had been a little more open to him lately about how much you were missing him while he was away, but Harry knew that he loved hearing that from you. He missed you just as much as you missed him, and if he wasn’t such a fucking idiot, he would’ve expressed that to you. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. He didn’t want you to feel alone in your need to always want to be together.
If he could have you with him every second of the day, he would. He loved you more than words could ever express, and that’s why he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself for the nasty lies he had spewed tonight.
He was terrified that you would never forgive him either.
Swallowing harshly, he slowly sat up in bed, and you snapped your head over to look at him - your eyes meeting underneath the small bit of light that hung in the room. He brought his right hand up to cup the back of your neck, and as he used the leverage to bring your face closer, he could see the glistening of the tears coating the apples of your cheeks.
“Y/N,” he spoke, but you quickly shook your head.
You didn’t want to talk right now.
Your shaking hands lifted to cradle his jawline in your palms, and before you knew it, his hand on the back of your neck was now completely pulling you into him - lips clashing together.
His hand that was in your lap slipped underneath your shirt, grasping to your hip, and giving it a squeeze to signal that he wanted you even closer. Moving further onto the bed, you then straddled his waist, but your hands remained in the same places as your lips separated - tongues lapping over one another, and tracing patterns onto the roof of each other's mouths.
Harry’s fingers curled around your hip as you began to grind down against him, and you could feel that he was already growing hard underneath you - the only thing separating the two of you being your pairs of underwear.
The two of you knew this wasn’t a solution to the fight that happened earlier, but you were trying to push those thoughts away for the time being. Despite your anger, you still wanted him, and as angry as it made you that those feelings overpowered your want to scream at him, you couldn’t help but give in. You needed this.
You needed him.
You could tell that you were completely ruining your underwear as his hard length began to press just perfectly to your clit through the fabric, and you moaned into his mouth.
After a few more seconds, you both moved around so that you could remove the unnecessary undergarments - tossing them onto the ground before you were straddling him once more.
Sitting up a bit, you rested your hands on his chest as you rocked your hips back and forth, and you heard Harry groan as he cupped your hips in his hands to help your movements. You looked down to see his tip peeking out from underneath you every time you drew your hips back, and you could see that he was actively leaking precome onto the skin of his stomach.
You knew it wouldn’t be long until the need to have him inside of you would take over completely, so you decided to give yourself a bit of an advantage for once. You were going to be the one in charge. You were going to be the one to call the shots.
With your eyes looking back up to Harry’s face, you could see that he was already looking at you, and you watched as his eyes widened once your hand was wrapped around his neck - applying the smallest bit of pressure.
“Beg,” you demanded, stopping all other movements.
Harry let out a small gasp as you tightened your fingers just a little more against his pressure points, and his lips parted. You had never been in this position with him before. He was always the one to dictate the pace, so you knew that he was more than shocked to hear, and see you in such a way.
“Beg me to fuck you,” you told him, your tone unwavering as you continued to stay still.
“Y/N, I-”
“That doesn’t sound like begging,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You must not want me that bad.”
“No, no, no,” Harry pleaded as you acted like you were beginning to move off of his torso, but your hand still remained firmly in place. “I need you, baby. I want you so bad. Can’t you see?”
Harry tilted his chin down to his stomach where you could see that he was still leaking, and you stared for a few moments before meeting his eyes once more. “Yeah, I can see the mess you’re making, you pathetic little boy. About to come on his own stomach without even properly having his dick touched, is that right? All because of a little bit of grinding.”
You started up the rolling of your hips again - wetting his cock with your steadily dripping arousal as you did so. “But still, that’s not enough to convince me. If you don’t get to properly begging me within the next few seconds, I’m going to have to go back to the other bedroom, and just take care of myself with my own hand.”
The whine that left Harry was unlike any other noise you’ve heard him make before, but it was the start of him actually showing you that he wanted this.
“Please, Y/N, I haven’t had you in almost a month, and you know I love how good you feel around me. The most delicious pussy I’ve ever had, and the only one I’ll ever want for the rest of my life. I was made just for you. Take me, baby, please. Use me.”
You didn’t speak anymore, and you now heard Harry whimper as his bottom lip began to tremble.
Smirking softly, you applied just a tad more pressure to his throat as you lowered your torso down onto his so you could speak directly into his ear. “Now who’s needy?”
With just the slight shifting of your hips, you completely sunk yourself down onto him - both of you moaning out as you felt him filling you up entirely. You could feel him stretching you out, the subtle burn causing you to wince as you continued to pant into his ear. After giving yourself a moment to properly adjust, you sat back up and braced your free hand on his chest as you began to ride him.
The angle had your clit massaging perfectly against his pelvis, and you threw your head back with a soft moan - digging your teeth into your bottom lip.
“God, the sweetest little cunt,” Harry groaned, and you squeezed his neck the hardest you had all night.
“Shut up,” you gasped as you continued to move yourself up and down his shaft. “I don’t want to hear anymore talking from you, got it? But I would appreciate hearing you whine and moan like the needy boy you are.”
Letting up on his neck, you put more of your weight into the hand on his pec as you started slamming your hips down against his. You wanted relief, and you wanted it fast, especially after how emotionally worked up you had been all night.
At this point, you really didn’t even care if Harry got to come, and you decided you wanted to threaten him with that.
“I should just make you lay here, and watch me get myself off. And then when I come, at least twice, I’m going to stop. I’ll let you slide right out of me, and I’ll leave this room. I’ll make sure that you know that you wouldn’t be able to touch yourself either.”
Harry let out a large whimper at your words, and you smirked to yourself. He was giving you the exact reaction that you wanted.
“Does that make you upset to think about, Harry?” You continued to tease him. “That you haven’t been able to fuck anything but your fist this past month, and now that you have the sweetest cunt wrapped around you, you won’t even be able to finish inside of it? That I can take it away so easily?”
Harry’s face scrunched up, and if you weren’t mistaken, you were sure that you saw a few tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.
“That’s right, cry,” you chastised. “You’ve made me cry all fucking night. It’s about time I made you pay for that.”
You felt Harry’s prick twitch against one of your walls, and with one more thrust downwards, you felt yourself coming for the first time around him. Your ears were ringing, and your toes were curling as you felt your movements growing a bit sloppy as you rode yourself through your high completely.
“Oh, yes,” you moaned, thighs quivering as you started to come back down. “There it is.”
Worried that you were going to bruise Harry’s neck from how long you had been holding onto it, you moved your hands to where they both wrapped around his wrists, and you pinned them down onto the bed on each side of his head. You stared into each other's eyes as you continued to recuperate from your first orgasm, and once you felt your strength regaining, you started to ride him just as hard as you had before.
Your mouth was gaping open from just how overwhelming the pleasure of just having him back inside of you after so long was. As much as you wanted that second orgasm, you also didn’t want this to end.
You forced your eyes to stay open so that you could watch him, and you saw the tell of his own orgasm approaching - his eyebrows knitting together in the middle of his forehead.
“Don’t you dare,” you told him sternly, a groan escaping you at the end from how deep you felt him.
“It hurts,” Harry whined, and you shook your head in response before he continued. “I want to come so bad. Please let me come, mommy.”
Your eyes widened at the term as Harry had never used it before in the entirety of your relationship together, but then again, you had never been this in control - not even close.
“No, I told you, you don’t get to come.”
A sob wrecked through Harry’s chest, and you could see that his nails were digging into his palms. Using the leverage of your hands still around his wrists, you worked yourself at a new angle against his leaking cock, and you started to feel the familiar twitching in your lower abdomen as your cunt pulsed around him.
“I’m gonna come again,” you spoke subconsciously as your eyes rolled back into your head, and this climax hit you even harder than the first.
Your body trembled as your movements started to slow down entirely, and your grasp on Harry’s wrists ceased to exist as you collapsed against his chest. With his cock still inside of you, but with no stimulation, you clenched down around him with every pulse you felt. You knew that if you didn’t get off of him soon, that he would still come from this.
With a newfound clarity after your two orgasms, you blinked your eyes open, and you pushed yourself up to hover your face over his once more.
“You can come,” you ghosted your lips over his before connecting just your top lips, and you felt him starting to fill you up with his come.
Regardless of you letting him finish inside of you, you knew that it wasn’t the most satisfying orgasm for him. You didn’t milk his cock for everything he could give you as you usually would. You remained as still, and practically as loose as possible to make him suffer slightly. He still was a moaning mess underneath you despite all of it, and you expected for him to reach out and grab you in some way but his hands stayed right where you left them against the mattress.
After a few seconds, you began to shift on top of him, going to crawl off his torso, but that’s when Harry did move - his arms wrapping securely around your waist.
“Don’t go yet, please,” he whispered, and you felt fresh tears forming at the vulnerability you heard in his voice. “I want to hold you, Y/N. Just for a little bit.”
Swallowing the knot in your throat, you gave a nod as you laid back down against his chest - hands finding their home on his biceps. You shut your eyes, and you knew Harry was softening inside of you, and that your orgasms had to be making a mess of the sheets, but neither of you could be bothered to care.
You were still extremely hurt by what you heard earlier, but being in his arms like this again dulled the pain for a little bit - just like what happened a few moments earlier.
“I should’ve never said those things about you, my love,” Harry spoke up again, his fingertips now grazing along the back of your neck. “I don’t know why I did, and I hope you know that I’m going to spend every second going forward trying to make you feel better. I know I can never take them back, no matter how much I wish that I could, but I need you to know that’s not how I feel about you - not in the slightest.”
You could tell he cut himself off due to the emotions rising in his voice, but once he cleared his throat he continued.
“You are everything to me, Y/N. My entire world. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, would matter to me anymore if I lost you. The thought terrifies me. Having to live without you is my biggest fear because you are the love of my life. It’s why I married you, and why I want to stay married to you until our last breaths. The day I married you was the day my life finally started to make sense. Yes, I have my fans, and my music, but I would give all of that up if that’s what allowed me to continue to keep you.”
Tears were now streaming down both of your cheeks as you listened to him, and you sniffled as you turned your head to rest your chin against his chest, and he tilted his own head down to look at you.
“Do you want me to do that? I can give it all up right now, if that’s what will make you happy.”
“Harry, baby, no,” you shook your head as you cupped one of his cheeks in your hand. “I would never ask for you to give your career up for me. You love what you do, and so do I. The overwhelming pride I get when I see you out on that stage is only comparable to one other thing in my life, and that’s the love that I know we have for each other.
“What you said tonight did hurt me, and I was questioning everything from the time I heard those words until right now, but I trust you when you say that you didn’t mean them. I promise that I’ll try to be better during our phone calls. I’ll try not to complain as much about not being with you, and I can start keeping some things to myself if it’s going-”
“Stop that,” Harry stated as he moved one of his hands from around you to press the pad of his thumb against your lips. “I want you to be able to tell me everything. Don’t you dare filter yourself because of me. I’m a fucking idiot, Y/N, because I should’ve told you that when you tell me how much you miss me, I miss you just the same. You’re not alone in that. I also can’t hardly sleep without you being by my side, and knowing that you’re leaving on Sunday, and that I’m going to have to be here by myself for another month or two is almost unbearable to think about.”
Your bottom lip wobbled, and you saw his lips curl into a frown as his own tears started to coat his cheeks. “I miss you every second that I’m not with you, honey. I love you so much.”
Leaning forward, Harry’s thumb slipped from your lips, and you captured his mouth in a searing kiss. He let out a deep breath through his nose as his hands cupped your hips, and soon your tongues were wrestling for dominance before you could even process.
You could feel Harry hardening inside of you again, and you encouraged it by starting the grinding of your hips once more.
“I love you too, Harry, and I want you to show me how much you miss me when we’re apart,” you whispered against his lips. “I want to feel it.”
The next thing you knew, Harry had you flipped onto your back, and he hovered over you as you let him consume you entirely for the second time that morning. It was in that moment that you knew everything would be okay, and that the love you had for each other was unchanging.
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