i’m getting the feeling that matilda is about 1d!reader, and i already know that it’s gonna break me
Building Harry's House: Matilda
A/N: Sorry this took forever to post but uni work is choking me without a sea view rn so tysm for being patient lovies 💚
SUMMARY: With the world knowing of their once secret relationship, Harry and YN navigate life together as an official couple and everything that comes with it. (9.6k)
GENRE: 1dbandmember!reader, famous!yn
WARNING: mention of abuse (yn gets slapped), excessive drinking, mention of drugs
Previous Song Here!🍷// Building Harry's House masterlist // SINCE 2010 masterlist
SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl
Consistency is something that has always been a part of the spine in YN’s storybook. No matter how many years go by, Penny remains a burst of sunshine with a kaleidoscope of colors—Harry can see how YN came to have her own golden light.
Harry turns the wheel of the car with the palm of his hand and parks into the gravel driveway of Penny’s house. When YN finally saved up enough money to take her mum out of the rickety house she grew up in, she made sure to tell Penny that she could have any place she wanted—it didn’t even have to be in London anymore if that’s what she truly desired. Of course, her stepmum opted for a cottage in the countryside along with a forest for a backyard and greenery as far as the eyes can see. Colorful, homemade pottery, wind chimes, and furniture scatter the front porch, adding Penelope’s psychedelic touch to every little thing that YN’s seen since she was little.
Harry’s been aware of how quiet his love’s been during their travels. After the unexpected phone call from her father in Italy, he didn’t hesitate to pack their things when she said she wanted to see her stepmum. He immediately called his private pilot and made plans to head to Doncaster as soon as possible.
He watches as she exits the car without so much of a peep out of her mouth. He follows behind her as they make their way up the stone walkway that leads to the front of the house covered in greenery, much like YN’s home back in LA. He sees how YN pushes her fingers against the glass windchimes on the front porch before twisting the handle on the front door and walking in.
He sees her stepmum round the hallway corner in a tank top that showcases the few tattoos she has scattered along her arms and tracksuit pants, her face bare and glowing. Her bare feet pad across the tiled floor as she readjusts her long black hair in a ponytail. When she kisses her stepdaughter’s cheek in greeting, Harry notices the yoga mat farther into the small living room.
The place screams Penny: bohemian rugs, funky lamp shades and handmade paintings hung on every space the wall can fit.
After receiving the warmest welcome and being served tea out of her mismatched colorful mugs, the seal in YN’s silent mask finally cracks and it has her pacing across the kitchen floor. As he watches his love spill out everything on her mind that she’s kept in for the past two days and he can do nothing but lean against the doorframe of the kitchen and listen.
“Like, what could he possibly want from me? Money? Fame? A relationship with his daughter after eleven fookin’ years?” YN huffs out a laugh at the thought of her last suggestion with her hands on her hips. “Dunno how this bloke even got me personal number. That’s some hacker shite right there. And now I gotta change my number again and make sure that—”
“I gave him your number.” Penny blurts out from her seat at the table, making YN stop her pacing in the middle of the room. Her breathing stops altogether and the room goes silent with a faint sound of the glass windchimes from outside. Even Harry’s eyebrows furrow from his spot leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
“Whot? Wha—why the hell would you do that, Penny?” YN shakes her head as she tries to wrap her head around the fact that her step mum gave the one person she never wants to see again a leeway into her life.
“Look, I don’t support what he did or how he raised you—”
“He didn’t fookin’ raise me.”
“But he’s changed.”
“That’s like, the most bullshit reasoning anyone has ever given. And how would you even know that? Have you been talking to him?”
Penny fidgets with a strand of her long black hair and twists the ends as she mumbles out, “He’s reached out once or twice.”
“What the ‘ell? Whose side are you even on?”
With a hand on his hip, his other rubs against the stubble on his cheek as he watches the two women dispute back and forth. He doesn’t know if he should leave to give them some privacy or stay in case anything gets out of hand.
He hates to see his love this way, pacing with frustrated fingers twisting the rings on her fingers so much that they’re sure to leave red marks on her skin. The crease between her eyebrows begging to be soothed out by his lips and the harsh nails raking through her hair demands to be switched with his gentle ones—the kind that has her falling asleep almost instantly.
“I was in the hippie scene, YN! I was young and naive and I fell in love with this bloke. I didn’t know what I wanted or what was right or what was wrong. But the one thing I knew for fooking sure was wanting you to be in me life.” Penny sighs out as she composes herself. “Look, you know I would never do anything to hurt yeh. He first reached out months ago; s’not like he called yesterday and I gave him yeh number willy nilly.”
“So what are yeh saying? That I actually go pay this man a little visit?” Before Penny could even begin her suggestion, YN scoffs and immediately shakes her head. “No.”
“No, not happening. No way.”
When Harry sees her stepmum let out a deep sigh and rubs a smoothing hand over her forehead, he thinks now might be a time for him to step in.
“YN, maybe you should listen to yeh mum—”
“Stay out of this, Harry!” YN snaps at him without so much as a second thought. “This is none of yeh damn business.”
“YN!” Penny scolds her stepdaughter but it’s no use as YN storms off to the backyard. It’s a rare thing for either one of them to snap at each other but when one does, it can be quite scary. Their last big argument was well over a year ago during the making of Harry’s last album and they’ve made it a habit not to revert back to their shitty way of communication. He almost lost her then and he’s sure as hell not going to let her go now.
Penelope turns to Harry with a sorrowful expression, “Yeh did nothing wrong, Harry. She’s just stu—”
“Stubborn. Yeah, I know.” With a shrug of his shoulder and a sad smile, he says, “S’unfortunately, one of the things I love about her.”
After walking off some of the steam around the massive yard, YN stumbles upon the garage she helped her stepmum convert into an art studio. Canvases the size of her line up against the wall (a painting in the works up on an easel), buckets of paints and brushes scattered every which way, and a pottery wheel in the center of the room.
With her arms wrapped around herself, she walks along the shelving filled with miscellaneous items: Penny’s homemade ceramic creations, funky decor pieces, plants, books and the picture they used for the Story of My Life music video framed and displayed front and center.
She runs her finger across the array of books on the shelves, stopping and pulling out a particular book.
“Find anything yeh like?” YN looks up and gives her stepmum a small smile.
“Yeh still have this?” YN waves her old copy of Matilda. The pages were so well loved that one wrong blow of the wind could have the cover fall off of its spine.
“Of course, yeh wouldn’t let that thing go.” Penny takes a cautious step towards her stepdaughter and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, “But there are some things that you just have let go, right?”
Penny’s ready for the young woman to blow up again, sigh out in frustration, and even walk out of the room. But it’s safe to say that she wasn’t expecting for her to look at her with glossy eyes and a trembling bottom lip.
“I'm scared, mum.” YN whispers out and Penny wastes no time pulling her into her arms.
“It’s okay to be scared, baby.” She reassures her stepdaughter. “But yeh don’t have to be. You have to choose whether or not you want him to have that power over yeh. You are so strong, so courageous. M’sorry that I didn’t warn you beforehand.”
“S’okay,” YN pulls back as she wipes at her cheeks. “If yeh would have warned me I would just keep avoiding him. I think it's a sign, right?"
“Follow yeh heart, baby. You know what to do." Penny brushes the strands of hair away from her daughter's face in a comforting way. "Have yeh told him about what happened?” She doesn't need to say his name for YN to know who she's referring to.
“Does he need to know?” Even YN cringes her face up at her words, already knowing the answer to her question. She blindly points to the general direction of the backyard. "M'gonna go talk to him."
Harry can’t help but think of how much Penny’s house reminds him of his mum’s place he bought for her all those years ago. Like YN’s stepmum, she didn’t want anything too grand in the busy life of London but a cozy cottage with a massive yard. He remembers hearing a lot about how the two mums bonded over gardening and wonders if the sunflowers growing off in the corner of the yard was his mum’s doing.
He gets pulled away from his thoughts on one of the patio couches when he hears the sliding back door open and he’s met with his love.
“Hi,” she breathes out.
“M’sorry I snapped at you. Yeh did nothing wrong.” YN sighs as she keeps her gaze to her fidgety hands, her thumb twisting the ring on her index finger. “Yeh been nothing but supportive and you didn’t deserve that. M’sorry. Can you forgive me?”
He wordlessly pats the seat next to him and she’s quick to climb up close to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently holds the side of her head and presses a kiss to her temple. He’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat; that’s how deep his love is for her.
“S’alright,” Harry mumbles against her skin and feels her shoulders relax against him. “I forgive you.”
“Good. That would have been awkward if yeh didn’t,” YN huffs out a laugh through her nose in an attempt to ease the mood and he can’t hold back the small smile of his face.
They stay like this for a bit, wrapped up in one another as they look out into the giant, forest-like backyard before them. As much as he’d like to pretend that everything’s alright and move on, he knows that it’s not healthy to. That’s all they’ve ever done during these past couple of years since the band started: suppressing thoughts and feelings in hopes they would disappear and everything would resolve itself on its own. In a perfect world, maybe, but they’ve wasted so much time doing that that they both see what they’ve been missing out on.
As much as he doesn’t want to pop the bubble they’ve created, he knows this needs to be done—or at least try to.
“YN?” When she hums in response, he puts a reassuring hand over hers and is rewarded with the eyes that make him weak in the knees. “Do you feel comfortable telling me about your dad?”
“He’s not me dad,” YN shakes her head instantly. “He didn’t—doesn’t deserve that name. He isn’t me dad. He’s my father and the only reason he even gets that much is because we share the same DNA.”
YN lets out a deep sigh and avoids her boyfriend’s gaze to look out to the trees scattered around the backyard. She’s never talked to Harry or any of the boys about her father, nor has she ever wanted to. When topics of her family came up during interviews, music video projects, or even group dinners, Penny was only mentioned and brought along. Out of respect, nobody tried to pry her open for any other information about if she had a dad, any other siblings or relatives she was close with. It was only Penny and the Tomlinsons—no one else.
“I don’t want to talk about my father,” As Harry’s head runs around with unfulfilled questions a thousand miles a minute, ready to close the conversation and reassure her that she can when she’s ready, she manages to mumble out, “But I do feel comfortable with you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I’ve never felt anything like this before. I’m never going to want to talk about me father but since I plan to spend the rest of me life with you, I need to tell you about this part of my life.”
When Harry turns his body towards her to give her his full attention, her nerves begin to spike up again. But with his hand in hers, it grounds her and makes her feel an overwhelming sense of safety. So with that, she takes in a deep breath before lowering down the wall of her past that she’s kept hidden from the world for years.
YN, Louis, and some of her other friends ride their bikes down the streets of Doncaster after getting out of school. It was a particularly cold day this time of year and they were all wrapped up in thick coats and scarves. Now, YN isn’t big on birthdays. She never celebrated them in her own household but the Tomlinson’s never failed to give her a cake, collectively sing her the infamous song, and give her a present or two. But this year is different. This year, YN turns 16 and Penny nearly jumped up and down in excitement when her stepdaughter asked if she could bring some friends over for a little party.
Nobody has ever really been to her house, even Louis—her best friend since she was five years old—doesn’t spend too much time over there either. He was already so used to her suggesting to go over to his house instead that he began to question if she was feeling alright when she told him her plans.
The only reason why she’s even inviting everyone over is because her father said he’d be out late at work and won’t be back until the late hours of the night. Not that she wasn’t used to him not being home, it’s just when he was, he was accompanied by a beer bottle and bitter comments.
The group drops their bikes on the small yard in front of her house before trekking up the short, creaky steps of the porch as they chat and laugh lively amongst themselves. There’s a sense of relief not seeing anyone in the small living room once she pushed and twisted her key in the lock. Her eyebrows furrow for a second when her step mum isn’t there. She did her car in the driveway but brushes it off before turning to the group.
“Alright lads, yeh guys can just leave yeh stuff in here and I can go get us something to eat from the kitchen.” YN smiles at her small group of friends as they all happily agree. Too embarrassed to admit it to herself but she’s actually excited about her little get-together. She’s never hosted a party before and Jay and Penelope pre-made some snacks for her to pass around.
“Let me help yeh with tha—” Louis says as he begins to shrug off his puffer coat when Penny hurriedly comes into the living room.
“YN,” The young girl furrows her eyebrows for the millionth time at the way her stepmum’s voice shakes and at the fake smile plastered on her face. “‘ello everyone, welcome. Hun, um can I talk with yeh for a second? Ah—Lou, stay there babe. The kitchen is actually a mess from earlier.”
Louis stops in his tracks as he feels the confusion continues to rise up. Instead of questioning it, he takes it upon himself to entertain the group for the time being as his best friend and her stepmum step off to the side.
“Penny, what’s wrong? Yeh scaring meh.”
“Baby, um,” Penny anxiously pushes her long black hair behind her ears before looking over to her small group of friends in the living room. “There was a little hiccup at your father’s work today...”
No. Please, no.
“Well, wha’s goin’ on in here?” A voice sounds from somewhere behind her and the inevitable chill runs down her spine.
When YN turns around, her father stands before her. She’s quick to assess the situation: dirty white shirt, beer bottle in hand, eyes pink and puffy, and the stench of his breath.
“Having a little party without meh or whot?” Samuel taunts with a sickening smile before taking a swing from the dark bottle. Her stomach drops at the sight of her friends’ eyes widening at the man before them.
“Sammy, baby.” YN sees her step mum quickly come to his side and place a hand on her husband’s chest with a gentle voice. “Come on, we were just heading out, right?”
Please, this can’t be happening. Not now.
“Come on, let YN have her party and we can go out for dinner like we planned.”
“No,” He says sternly, shrugging his arm away from her gentle hand. “S’me house. I paid for it. Why do I ‘ave to leave?” He slurs.
“S’alright, we were just leaving.” YN tries her hardest to not make this a bigger scene than it’s already becoming. “I actually forgot I left the snacks over at yeh house, Lou. Why don’t yeh lads head over there and I’ll be over in a sec.”
“I don’t think—”
“Louis, I’ll meet up with you guys over there.” YN smiles reassuringly but her eyes tell a different story. He can tell that she’s just begging him to take the group away next door and let her deal with her father in the privacy of the worn down walls of the house.
She feels ashamed and embarrassed by the way her friends awkwardly gather their things and shuffle out of the house.
“Hanging around with that Louis bloke again?” Samuel provokes as soon as she closes the door behind the group. YN wouldn’t usually give in to one of his verbal pokes and digs, but whenever he brings up her best friend, it makes the fire in her chest burn hotter.
“Got fired again?” She retaliates in a bored tone.
“Yeh being smart with meh? Yeh just think you’re so smart, huh?”
“Well I did skip a grade so what do you think?” YN tries to brush past her tispy father over to the kitchen to grab the pre-made snacks but it’s easier said than done. He immediately blocks her from walking any further.
“Do you think you’re better than me?” Her father yells in her face and the smell of alcohol washes over her stronger than before. It makes her scrunch her up nose up at the scent and she keeps her gaze on his dirty shirt than his eyes. “Yeh think yeh can do whatever yeh want and invite people over? Just like that? Yeh can’t just do anythin’ yeh want, Marilyn!”
This wasn’t the first time Samuel has called YN by her mother’s name, drunk or not. Marilyn left her father when YN was merely four years old, too fed up by her husband to deal with him for another day and too selfish to bring her daughter to her new life. YN remembers the yelling from downstairs and loud shut of the front door.
She remembers the bright blue and red lights from the police car flashing from her backyard later on in the night, and the two officers saying something about a car accident. She also remembers how it was the first time she ever saw her father cry.
She doesn’t remember a lot about her mother. When she was older, she found a few pictures of her that her father kept away and needless to say, she was shocked. She almost thought they were pictures of her until she saw a younger version of her father next to her.
“Yeah, and you know what? I wish I was her.” YN bites back through her clenched teeth, finally having the strength to look up and meet his eyes. “I wish I was her so that I can fookin’ leave you like she did!”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, she feels a hot sting on her cheek. The strong impact startles her, her body reacting on its own from the unexpected action that her hands have to catch herself before her face can hit the ground.
She hears her step-mum yell, but it sounds muffled. Everything around her fades into a high ringing noise. It wasn’t uncommon for YN and her father to have some heated, verbal arguments. The both of them get red in the face and nasty words are exchanged that should never be said between a daughter and a father. As much they both had the urge to do so, never, never has he ever laid a hand on her until now.
YN puts a hand on her burning cheek and whips her head around to look up at her father. His chest is heaving in anger, eyebrows deeply furrowed and she can practically see the steam radiating off of him.
As she picks herself off the floor and Penny is quick to her side but YN pushes the woman away from her while keeping her stern gaze on her father.
Without another word, she marches towards the door. She thinks she hears Penny calling out after her, maybe even her father, but she doesn’t care. She swings the door open and makes headway towards her discarded bike.
She pushes her feet quickly against the pedals, her legs burn at how fast she’s going but continues on. She doesn’t even spare a glance at Louis’ house when she rides past it—her surroundings just all become a big moving blur. The tears on her cheeks feel ice cold as the wind whips at her face, but it simultaneously soothes the fresh marks on her skin.
“I used to think that if I pedaled hard enough, I would fly away. Like some blue bird in fookin’ Snow White or something.” YN wraps her arms around her legs as she brings them to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she continues to keep her gaze on Harry’s hand in hers. She hasn’t been able to look him in the eyes since she started to share her truth.
“Where did you go?” Harry asks softly.
“Well I wanted to run away, but I literally had nothing on me. So after circling around Donny for a bit, I sneaked into Louis’s room that night. Penny found me easily,” YN lets out a watery chuckle and wipes under her nose with her sleeve. “Was the first place she looked but I um, I didn’t come back home for about a month. Pen brought me clothes from home and stuff; she knew I didn’t want to go back there.”
“And your father?”
YN looks out to the orange sun set that peaks through the trees of the spacious yard and shrugs. “That was the last time I ever saw or spoke to him. Pen still stayed with him, I stayed at Jay’s and when the summer came around I went back when he wasn’t there. Two months later I had me XFactor audition and I never came back home.”
“M’so sorry, YN.” Harry’s index finger nudges under his nose to help keep his tears at bay.
YN shakes her head and kisses her teeth. “Don’t be. Y’know I hate it when people give me pity and all that. Makes me feel like I can’t hold me own. If anything, I just felt bad for me mum. Like I just left her there to go on tour with the band for two years before I could come up with the money to buy her a decent place of her own.”
“Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty for any of that, you know that right? You should never apologize for simply growing up and trying to move on, YN. Hey, look at me,” Harry gently nudges his hand under her chin to turn her gaze to him. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you can handle yourself. I mean, look how much you had to deal with and are still here; your golden light shining through the darkest of times. But you don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”
When he pulls her further into his arms, he hears her sniffle back her tears and snuggles further into his chest. His heart breaks at the sound and he feels so helpless, like he could have done something to ease her pain. She was hurting right under his nose and he didn’t do anything. But he’s reminded that this isn’t about him, it’s about her. He can’t imagine going through what she did for so many years. He doesn’t even want to humor the idea of something like that happening to his own mum.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by her response muffled into his chest.
“Can you um...do you mind coming with me to see him next week?”
The day to go meet up with her father for afternoon tea came around sooner than YN expected. She barely slept the night before, tossing and turning every which way to release the pain in her temples. If it bothered Harry so much, he did a good job at hiding it because with every wiggle and frustrated sigh, he adjusted their position along with her. He peppered loving kisses to anywhere her skin was near his mouth at the time and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, encouraging her to relax.
It wasn’t until Harry tugged her on top of him, tucked her head into the crook of his neck and massaged his blunt fingers into her scalp and back that she was finally able to succumb to sleep when the sun began to peek through the sheer curtains.
After a few phone calls from Jeff and work related matters, Harry walks back into the master bedroom of his home in London with his eyes on the phone in his hand.
“Darling, wanna start heading o—?” He stops when he sees YN still in her pajamas and her hair messily clipped to the back of her head. She sits criss-cross on the floor with plastic packaging and cardboard all around her. “Baby? What are you doing? Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“Look, I finally framed my ABBA poster. It’s been rolled up and stuck in that closet since forever and I found these fancy frames I ordered a while ago but never put them to use. I think I’m actually going to order more and just redo all my posters and stuff.” YN rambles on with her hands on her hips as she looks around at the items surrounding her.
“Oh! And I have to show you this viral TikTok I saw earlier.” YN scrambles to her feet, moving around Harry and swipes her phone from the dresser behind him. “It’s a life hack on how we can maximize space under the bathroom cabinets because as much as I hate to admit it, we both have loads of skin care stuff and this way we can stay organized! And then—”
“YN,” Harry grabs a hold of her shoulders. When he sees her wide eyes look up at him, he gently takes her jaw in his hands. “S’okay to feel nervous. We don't have to go to your home if you don’t want to, lovie. You did nothing wrong and if you don’t want to go, there’s no harm in that.”
He sees the way her wide, tired eyes soften as he can practically see her working the gears in her head.
“No. No, you’re right.” YN lets out a deep sigh before kissing her teeth. “I hate it when you’re right. Bruises me ego.”
Harry huffs out a chuckle and presses a loving kiss to her forehead before heading towards the connected bathroom.
“Come on, I’ll even get the shower going for y—” Once Harry opens the glass door of the shower stall, he eyebrows knit together at the balled up pieces of clothing on the floor banded together by rubber bands. YN gives him a sheepish smile.
“I learned how to tie-dye.”
It’s hard not to notice the way YN’s knee keeps bouncing and her hands fidget with the rings on her fingers. He doesn’t point out the way she keeps moving the dials for the AC or how she tweaks the volume of the music every other minute.
He licks his lips before giving her thigh under his hand a loving squeeze and saying, “Baby, do you mind grabbing me that chapstick I put in yeh bag?”
YN rummages her purse in search of the tiny tube. Harry glances at his love and finds that while one hand is shoved sifting through her bag, the other one holds an abundance of items: her keys, her wallet, a snack-size bag of Haribos she bought at the airport and their two passports.
“I can’t bloody find this stupid, little—”
“Hey, hey. S’alright, forget about it yeah?” Harry takes the items in her hands and tosses them in the spacious footwell of the car. He intertwines his fingers with hers and brings their hands to his mouth. “Thought it would take your mind off of things but I guess it only made you more upset.” Harry chuckles, trying to lighten her anxiety by pressing kisses to each of her knuckles.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. Fook.” YN brings the heel of her other hand to her forehead and closes her eyes. Harry can feel the frustration radiating off of her. It’s heavy and bleak, and not like his YN at all. He’s suddenly thinking of making a “wrong” turn to the airport to go back to Sunny California where her golden smile shined the most. Or even pulling over at the side of the road to say how there’s a suspicious noise coming from the engine and how they need to wait it out before they continue. “I know m’being a bother. I just can’t stay still. I feel so silly—”
“You are not silly for feeling the way you feel. This is a huge step for you and I just want to thank you for allowing me to be with you during this time. I never want yeh to go through this alone, I know you wouldn’t let me go through this thing alone if it was the other way around. And if this turns out bad, I got a few—” Harry pinches his index finger and thumb together and brings it to his lips. “—back home we can do after.”
“Yeh could have told me that before we left?”
He laughs at her disappointed tone before making a turn onto the designated property. “I didn’t think we’d make a good impression on your father if we showed up stoned.”
“Holy shit,” YN ducks over to Harry’s driver’s side window at the mansion driveway they pull into. “Are you sure this is the right address?”
“You’re the one who put it into the GPS.”
Like second nature, Harry opens her car door and intertwines his hands with hers before making their way up the driveway.
“Now I feel fookin’ underdressed.” YN adjusts the cardigan that keeps falling off of her shoulder.
“You look fucking gorgeous.” Harry leans down to plant a kiss to her cheek.
“Oh, no.” YN cracks a smile and pinches at his lips with her knuckles. “I’ve been a bad influence on you, haven’t I?”
“Wha’ do yeh fookin’ mean?” She giggles as Harry micks her Yorkshire accent. Him and the boys would like to make fun of her accent throughout the years but Harry’s always done it to defuse her anger, to bring a smile on her face and ease her bundle of nerves. “This is how I bloody talk and shit, innt?”
“Is it now?”
“Aces, man.” Harry smiles brightly at the way she covers her laugh with the back of her hand as he reaches over to push the doorbell. “Just buzzin’ in excitement, aren’t yeh? Oh bloody ‘ell, bloody ‘ell.”
YN and Harry’s laughter gets cut off by the front door opening. There stands an older woman, probably in her late fifties. Her blonde hair looks like it was freshly done at the salon and looks like a fluffy yellow cloud on her head. The woman’s sparkly cocktail dress and matching red lip are way too fancy for an afternoon tea, and if it wasn’t already for the massive size of their house, YN might have been surprised at her attire.
“Hello there. We were just expecting you both.” The woman’s American accent rings through YN’s ears. As the woman extends her manicured hand to greet the couple, YN’s eyes immediately go to the sparkly rock on her finger. “My name is Della and you beautiful young lady must be—”
“YN.” A voice continues from behind the pristine woman, the same voice that runs a chill down her spine as it did when she was a kid.
A man appears at the doorway, his eyes widening like he almost expected her to not come at the last minute.
She doesn’t know who this man in front of her is, but it certainly isn’t the man she remembers. There’s no beer bottle in his hand but a gold wedding band on his ring finger. Instead of his stained shirt, a freshly pressed white button-up and a sweater vest covers his chest. Her nose doesn’t burn from the stench of alcohol but of minty freshness.
But even though his eyes aren’t surrounded by pinky, puffiness, she can tell that those are her father’s eyes.
“Hello, Samuel,” YN utters out the words with as much professionalism as she can, almost as if she were interviewing him for a prestigious job.
“I’m—I’m so glad you were able to make it.” The older man huffs out a laugh of disbelief as he runs a nervous hand over his thinning hair; his clean, combed and styled hair.
When Harry sees his love swallow thickly from uncomfortableness, he extends an outreached hand, “Hello, m’Harry. It’s nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Barlowe.”
YN just stands with her hand still clasped in his as the older couple shakes her boyfriend’s hand.
“Please, please come inside.” Della steps aside and opens the door wider.
YN can feel her skin tingle by the feel of her father’s eyes on her and she hates the way she’s having trouble meeting his eyes.
It’s an uncomfortable experience walking through the spacious house, everything clean and neat that it almost looks like no one has ever lived in it before. The couches and decorative carpets are white and aesthetically minimal, grand chandeliers hanging in every room they pass and a kitchen that looks like it’s never been used. She almost feels the need to take off her shoes in fear of leaving a mark on the perfectly clean titles.
As YN looks around the museum-like house, she quickly looks down at the feeling of Harry giving their intertwined hands a reassuring squeeze. Even if he can’t do anything about her situation, she appreciates the fact that he’s letting her know that he’s here with her for any support she needs.
Once the group sits down on the patio outside, YN almost jumps in her seat when two women with white aprons come out with trays ready for their tea.
Della and Samuel move in sync with one another as they drink their tea. They might as well be robots, lifting their white tea cups with such delicateness and gently dabbing their cloth napkin around their lips precisely three times. It’s borderline scary, like a jumpscare out of a horror movie was bound to pop out any minute.
But she has to admit, Della isn’t a stuck up monster as she initially thought upon meeting her at the front door. She’s actually a very sweet woman who smiles at her husband with so much love in her eyes.
YN’s learned that her father was working as a janitor at a law firm company shortly after she and Penny left his life. There, he was inspired to go to law school and with some help from some people in the company, he was able to attend. He soon worked his way up to become a partner at the firm and the small company became bigger than anyone ever expected. He met Della in 2015 when she was working as the firm’s secretary and married a couple months into dating.
“He would always stop by my desk and take from the lollipop bowl I had there. He would always ask me to go out with him and I kept telling him no—I honestly think it was because he liked my accent and I was playing hard to get.” Della whispers not so quietly and it makes a chuckle bubble out from YN’s throat. It puts a smile on Harry’s face to see his love more relaxed, not totally letting her guard down but enough for her shoulders to come down from their pinched position.
“What made you change your mind?” YN questions with a sincere smile and takes a sip of her honey-induced tea.
“This guy—” Della playfully slaps her husband's chest. “Got in front of the whole office, guitar in hand and sang to me. Oh the name of the song is slipping from my mind...how did it go again?” Della snaps her fingers as she racks her brain. “Um... don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control...”
“I want a perfect body,” Samuel says along.
“I want a perfect soul,” YN finishes and looks down at her lap. “That's um, that’s Creep by Radiohead.”
“If m’not mistaken, that was one of the first songs I taught you how to play on the guitar.” Her father smiles and sits up straighter in his seat.
“Yeah, you let me use your old Lancaster.” Harry sees the way her smile falters at the mention of the memory. YN was in middle school when her father showed an uncommon amount of kindness one day. It was the day she rummaged through the garage and found the pictures of her mum along with his old eclectic guitar. Instead of scolding her to not look through his old things, he sat down with her and showed her the simple cords to the song (thanks to the years of practice from Penny, she was able to pick up the melody pretty quickly). They smiled, laughed, and bonded. But like many things in her life, consistency crept its way back in.
Samuel saw sight of a picture of his deceased wife peeking out from YN’s hoodie pocket and a switch flicked inside him. He suddenly snatched the beautiful guitar and smashed it against the ground. After three swings, the base completely disconnected from the neck. He walked out without so much as another word and left YN panting, frozen in a state of fear and shock.
“I loved that guitar,” YN says softly and she’s back at avoiding his gaze.
“I did, too. S’a shame I don’t have it anymore. Sold it to an old buddy of mine back in the day.” Samuel sighs out in disappointment and YN’s eyebrows quickly knit together. When she looks up at him in confusion, he sees him shake his head in reminiscence.
“Hey, maybe you should treat yourself and buy a new one, huh?” Della puts a hand on her husband’s arm with an encouraging smile. “There’s got to be a store somewhere that sells some.”
“Reckon’ you’re right, D.” Samuel smiles. While he leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek, Harry too leans over to his love. “That’s a great idea.”
“Baby, y’alright? Wha’s wrong?” Harry whispers.
“Okay, so I would hate to have you both feel uncomfortable about this and Sam warned me not to bring it up,” Della chuckles. “But before you two leave, would you guys mind signing a CD for my kids? They just love both of your music and they would absolutely die if they knew you guys were here without a little something.”
“You have children?” YN raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“Two girls,” Della smiles brightly. “Sydney just got back from college—oh sorry, uni—last month and our little Abigail just turned the big 16 last week. We had a little surprise party for her and we invited all of her friends over. Oh, it was so much fun. And the cake was just so delicious—”
“Della, honey.” Samuel puts a gentle hand on his wife’s. “I think we’ve heard enough about the party—”
“I would actually love to hear more about it.” YN speaks up, straightening up her back and turning her full attention towards the older woman.
“YN,” Harry whispers gently into his girlfriend and puts a comforting hand on the back of her chair.
Della nervously chuckles. "Oh, I don't know-"
“Please. Please, go on." YN insists. "Did you bake the cake yourselves? Did you spend all night the day before preparing little snacks for all of her friends, too? Did you guys buy her a sentimental gift? Samuel?”
YN gives her father an expected look, patiently waiting for his answer as he squirms in his seat. He nervously coughs into his hands before saying, “Um, we uh...well she just got her license not too long ago so we um...we put some money together to buy her a car.”
Della shifts her gaze back and forth between her husband and his daughter as the tension begins to build up. She sees the way YN purses her lips together and nods.
“She had been asking for one for so long and since it was a special occasion, Samuel wanted to do something nice.” Della reasons with a wavering smile. “I’m sure that Sam here did something just as special for you when you turned her age. What did he give you?”
Harry—all of them really—can see the way Della tries her best to lighten the mood but right now he knows that she should just stop talking altogether.
“A slap across the face.” YN nods nonchalantly, not at all bothered by the horrific look on the older woman's face. “Yeh know, the kind where yeh least expect it and the force of it is just so strong that it actually knocks yeh off your feet. Makes you hear a little ringing sound, too. Isn't that right, Samuel?”
Della looks over to her husband as he furrows his eyebrows and as much as Harry hates to admit it, the resemblance she has with her father’s current expression is undeniable.
“I’m sorry,” Samuel shakes his head as he clears his throat. “I actually have no idea what you are referring to.”
The wind immediately gets knocked out from YN’s chest and if it wasn’t for Harry’s hand on her back, she’d think she was dreaming.
“M’sorry whot?” She scoffs. “So you’re telling me that you don’t remember the reason I left home?”
“Yeh went on to become a world famous singer. I always knew you would someday.”
Harry can feel the anger radiating off her body as her father lies right through his teeth. Till this day, she can still hear his drunken words slurred to her:
You’re a waste of space.
Yeh think you’re gonna make it as a singer? You’re pathetic.
You’re not worth it.
Just as Harry mentally (and almost physically) prepares himself from standing in between his girlfriend and her father when she goes off on him, he’s taken back when she lets out a laugh. She’s laughing. Her eyes squeezed shut with one hand over her stomach and the other over her mouth.
“Why is that funny?” Della looks around at the people surrounding the table.
“Sorry, m’sorry,” YN says in between giggles. “But that’s the biggest load of shit v’ever heard. So you’re saying that yeh don’t remember all of those years of yelling at me? Yelling at Penny? Drinking excessively? Breaking things violently in front of me? Hitting me?”
“Enough!” The loud bang to the table and the movement of the fine china startles everyone as Samuel’s voice booms throughout the patio space. “I invite you into me house to try to rekindle our past, to heal wounds and move on yet you bring up with shite?”
“Rekindle our past? Dunno how you expected to do that when you can’t even be honest about what yeh did to me! And heal wounds? Hate to break it to yeh Samuel, but those wounds aren't wounds anymore. They’re scars now. Already patched up and healed with no help from you.” YN lets out a small chuckle to herself before shaking her head. “I don’t know why I even came here. Della, you seem like a smart woman so I would advise yeh to have a little chat with your husband because he clearly isn’t the man that you know. Thank you for the tea.” And with that, YN’s chair screeches against the pavement before standing up.
“So that’s it?” Samuel spits. “And you? Harry, you’ve barely spoken a word since yeh got here.”
“How believe me, I have plenty to say,” Harry bites back as he stands up and puts a protective hand on YN’s back. “But out of respect for the love of my life, all m’gonna say is that you’re a piece of shit, man.”
“Get the hell out of me house!” Samuel yells as he abruptly stands from his seat, the metal chair falling loudly to the ground behind him and he points towards the door.
“Glady.” YN scoffs and once Harry intertwines his hand with hers, they make their way out of the house.
It’s a known fact that throughout the years of the two being in the public eye, they’ve been media trained to be the sweetest people they can be towards anyone they meet. Harry has been portrayed for years as a ‘bad boy’ who's never done anything bad and YN the ‘good girl’ with permanent innocence. It’s been rumored around the fandom since the band started that as sweet and soft spoken as they come off for their jobs, when they get mad—they get furious. So while many fans think it’s one of the many delusion based fandom-facts, no one has truly seen how scary the two can become when they get angry.
“Wait!” The couple turns around to find Della quickly making her way over to their car but the two ignore her calling as Harry proceeds to open her door. “YN, please!”
With an annoyed look to her love and a sigh, YN relecutaly turns around, “Whot?”
“I’m so, so sorry about what happened back there. I had no idea he had done those awful things to you. If-if I would have known...”
It doesn’t take long for it to all click in YN’s head. Her expression softens as she recognizes the look in the woman’s eyes from a mile away.
“You don’t know about me past.” She tilts her head to find Della’s eyes. “But you have experienced it, haven’t you?”
Harry’s surprised by the bold assumption, but when he flicks his gaze over to the prestigious woman, his heart strings pull greater than they have ever before.
“I don’t know what happened.” The older woman brings a shaky hand to her mouth as her eyes begin to water. “It first started shortly after we got married all those years ago. He was nothing like that when we met.”
“What I said back there is true. You are a smart woman. You know what to do. Think about your girls. They deserve the world, not this. Don’t let them go through what we did.” She surprises herself by wrapping her arms around the older woman, Della is quick to reciprocate. The hug doesn’t last longer than a couple of seconds,
but it was somehow something they both needed. So as she watches the couple drive away, Della is left with a truth she pushed back facing years in the making.
No matter how many years they’ve been working together, writing songs together and making music side by side, Harry still manages to get nervous showing her his work. But this isn’t any kind of love song he’s written about her in the past. This was on a deeper level of intimacy between them. This isn’t just about himself or his feelings of longing and loving towards her, but of her past.
He taps his leather journal in his open palm, gathers his tin container and with a deep breath in, he makes his way over to her where she’s seated in his backyard. In the middle of his closed-off yard, she’s sitting on a blanket he put out earlier, a guitar in her hands as she mindlessly plucks pretty melodies from the wired strings.
He leans down to press a kiss on her exposed shoulder before lifting the spaghetti strap of her dress back up and plopping down next to her. She easily flicks open the lid from the container and she smiles at the sight of a lighter and the familiar rolled up substances.
“Romantic dinner for two, Mr. Styles?” She pauses her movements when he puts a hand on top of hers and she looks up at him expectantly.
“I uh, before we get into it, I actually wanted to share something with you first.” YN notices the familiar journal in his lap and gives him a cheeky smile.
“Another love song about meh? M’starting to think you fancy me.” When she notices his knowing look, she gives him a closed lipped smile. “Sorry, go ahead.”
When she sets down her guitar, he reaches out and takes into his lap instead. She’s pleasantly surprised by his actions. He usually writes on piano as his choice of instrument and feels the butterflies start to flap their wings in anticipation of what’s to come.
He leans over himself to make sure his fingers are placed correctly over the strings and right as he’s about to begin, he stops, “Don’t make fun of me, alright? M’still practicing.”
She laughs and grabs a hold of his chin as she plants a sweet kiss to his lips, “Promise I’ll keep my opinions to myself.” Her giggle is muffled when he pulls her back in for another kiss but sits back and patiently waits until he’s ready.
With a final deep breath in, his fingers begin to pluck beautifully. He still needs a little finer tuning on his part but he’s doing a wonderful job so far.
You were riding your bike to the sound of "It's No Big Deal"
And you're trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels.
YN tilts her head at the lyrics but lets him continue on.
Nothing 'bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now.
So you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal.
It’s been a few days after the visit to go see her father and after crying and venting to her mum about what happened, the couple hasn’t brought the topic up since.
You don't have to be sorry for leavin' and growin' up, mmhm
There’s still so much she’s holding onto, so much still sitting on her chest that she's still unable to let go of. But Harry knows her more than anyone and understands her love language right down to the T: music.
Matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright
YN lets out a watery chuckle at the book reference, the one she loved so dearly as a child.
But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе.
You showed me a power that is strong еnough to bring sun to the darkest days.
It's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind.
“This song was inspired by an experience YN and I had with a mutual friend—a person who we disguised as Matilda by Roald Dahl.” Harry explains from his interview chair for the Harry’s House documentary. The couple agreed without a doubt that they wouldn’t fully explain that the song was about YN. They usually never do but the song speaks for itself. “I played it to a couple of friends and all of them cried. So I was like, ‘Okay, I think this is something to pay attention to.’”
You don't have to be sorry for doin' it on your own.
It shocks YN to realize that while she went through this part of her life by herself, she wasn’t alone. Ten years ago, YN gained brothers, a family consisting of the boys, her managers, tour and production crew, and the fans. She had a family by her side this entire time and she didn’t even register in her mind.
You can throw a party full of everyone you know
You can start a family who will always show you love
You don't have to be sorry, no
As soon as he plays the last note, YN quickly shuffles on her knees over to him and wraps him up in her arms. She digs her face into the crook of his neck as he grips onto her shoulder blades, pulling her incredibly closer to him as he can.
“People have so much guilt with things that they don't necessarily need to have guilt with sometimes. I think it's your right to protect the space around you and be protective of yourself and look after yourself.”
“I’m sorry you went home to that.”
YN shakes her head reassuringly and takes his face in her hands. She’s been crying so much lately that she’s surprised that she hasn’t run out by now. She has so much love for the man in front of her. She was serious about before: she’s never felt this way about anyone ever before. YN presses her lips lovingly to his. “You are my home, Harry.”
Her favorite dimpled smile appears on his face and she presses her forehead to his.
“You are my home, YN.” He says before pulling her back into him for more kisses.
“I think this song is going to touch a lot of people. It speaks to so many who’ve gone through toxic family members in their lives, people who weren’t loved in the way that they should have been loved,” YN gives the interview camera a sad smile. “S’a powerful one, this one.”
Back in the studio, YN can be seen in the recording room sitting in front of a Casio piano. With her chunky studio headphones on she plays along to Harry’s voice singing in her ears.
Oh, there's a long way to go,
I don't believe that time will change your mind.
She can’t help but tuck in her lips in an attempt to hold back the tears that threaten to escape.
In other words
I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go.
YN takes in a shaky breath and closes her eyes as her fingers continues to press on the keys.
You can let it go.
In a cathartic way, she finally releases the bands that she kept from her past. She lets go of her abusive father and the power he held over her for all of those years. She lets go of her biological mother’s name and accepts that she was never her, she’s her own person. She lets go of the guilt of leaving home, of leaving Penny—of leaving her mum there with her father for two more years and lets gratefulness seep in for the fact that her mum isn’t in that position anymore.
But most importantly, she lets go of the nasty feeling her father soaked her in.
She’s not pathetic, she’s brave. She’s not worthless, but worthy. She’s not a waste of space, she lights up the room with her golden light.
“It’s a weird one, because with something like this, it’s like, ‘I want to give you something, I want to support you in some way, but it’s not necessarily my place to make it about me because it’s not my experience.’” Sometimes it’s just about listening.” Harry sneaks a discreet peek at his teary-eyed girlfriend from her seat somewhere behind the camera. “I hope that’s what I did here. If nothing else, it just says, ‘I was listening to you.’”
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part 3 | MDB masterlist
summary: y/n gets jealous. and she doesn't like that feeling...at all, actually.
cw: sex. jealousy. soft angst.
Harry had texted Y/N yesterday and told her that he wanted her to join him on his boat today. He told her to wear her best because he had some plans for her tonight. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time they had seen each other because Harry had to leave to go to Italy for a business trip.
That didn't stop him from texting her every day and every night. Y/N could get used to this, she thought. At first she was just looking for some money, and she didn't know if it was the showering in gifts, or if it was Harry himself; but she was starting to grow some sort of feelings. It surely wasn't love, but it wasn't lust either. He was a gentleman and it showed greatly. But she couldn't stop thinking about him storming out of the dressing room the last time she saw him.
Part of her thought she had done something wrong. She didn't really believe him when he said that he was claustrophobic. He was fine before that.
Something was up with Harry.
The text told her to be there at two o'clock, but she was already dressed and running errands so she decided to come by earlier. It was one o'clock when the uber dropped her off at pier. She was fighting with herself because she didn't want to seem desperate to see him; even if she was, but she could easily lie and say that she read the text wrong in case he wasn't properly ready to see her, or confused to her showing up earlier.
"Good evening, Y/N," One of Harry's chaperone's greeted as she walked towards the board to get on the boat.
"Hi!" She smiled widely, giving him a awkward wave, "It's good to see you again. Hope you're okay."
"You're early," He blocked her pathway with his arm, brow perked up, "Mr. Styles is busy right now."
She swallowed thickly. She didn't know what to think, or what to say. There wasn't a scenario in her mind where she thought he was going to stop her from boarding, yet there they were. Stuck at a cross roads. It was a bit embarrassing and she had to think fast.
"Oh, Harry said..." She elongated, trying not to nervously pick at her nails, "He said to come now. He changed the time. I was just--I can come back later and you can explain to him why you wouldn't let me on the boat?" Her tone had a sense of challenge to it, almost teasing him to think he would lose his job.
"Oh," His voice wavered as his arm fell by his side, "Well, if that's what he said. I'm sorry, please." He gestured towards the board walk, nodding towards her, "He's in his quarters. Just knock before you enter. He asked to be left alone until you arrived."
She nodded and walked onto the boat. Truthfully, she did not know where his quarters were, but she could guess that it was the biggest room on the entire yacht. And that was easy to find. Her stomach was in knots, standing at the door where she knew Harry was on the other side of the door.
All the mornings texts had made her heart flutter. The beautiful thing about it was that he never missed a single morning. It was always received at the same time every morning even if she wasn't up.
"Good morning. H"
"Morning, Y/N. Have a good day today. H"
"Morning, darling. Check your Venmo. Get yourself a new pair of shoes on me. x H"
"Two more days and I'll be back in town. Can't wait to get out of these boring meetings. Would rather be taking you out. x H"
Her heart swelled. With flat palms, she swiftly ran her hands down her dress, one that Harry had bought for her. He really liked it the day she had put it on, so she decided to wear it in hopes that it would make his eyes light up like they do when he sees her in the clothes he buys her.
"Knock before you enter," She scoffed softly as her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, "I don't have to knock. He can't be angry if it's me."
She barely swung the door open, taking a peak into the room. Eyes wandering around the room, she tried to find Harry; but was met with a sound that sounded gravely and raspy. Her brow perked as she took a slow step into the room, but was met with Harry having another woman bent over the desk. Her cheeks immediately went red, eyes widened. No thoughts in her head, she just stood there.
Watching as his large ring cladded fingers explored the curves of her sides, digging his cock in and out of her, the way his ass flexed with each thrust. He didn't notice that she was standing behind him by the door, not with how quiet she was being. The woman's moans were spilling from her lips, causing Harry to grunt and moan, making comments on how well she was taking his cock.
His moans filled the rooms, almost over-taking hers. The sounds of their skin slapping echoed, she watched as he bent down and placed sloppy kisses to her back while he hoisted his leg up to leverage himself deeper into her.
It made her sick.
Sick in a way that she never really thought she would be jealous, but yet there she was, jealous. Jealous that she wasn't the one being bent over and fucked. Jealous in a way that she should be the one getting him off, not that woman. She should be.
After what seemed like an hour of standing there, which was only mere seconds, she pulled herself from the room and quietly shut the door. Most people would cry at that sight, but Y/N was rational. Jealous, but rational. She flicked her hair back, using one of her palms to rub her cheeks away from the flustered look before making her way back to the main deck.
"Evening, Y/N," One of the waiters came by with a flute of champagne, "Would you like a glass?"
"I'd like three, thank you." She replied as she took the drink from him.
She sat on the deck, in the sun, for an hour. She didn't try to make a scene or try to make it known that she saw what Harry was doing. She just simply let it be.
And getting gradually drunk, at that.
The waiter kept bringing her drinks and within a few minutes they were gone. She wasn't sloppily drunk, no, but she was somewhat tipsy.
"Y/N?" Harry came around the corner with a soft smile on his lips. She glanced towards him out of the corner of his eye, watching as his fingers tightened his tie. She swallowed hard.
"Hi." She said sweetly as her eyes stared out towards the ocean. Harry took a seat next to her in one of the lounge chairs, but didn't sit back. He sat on the edge, turned towards her so he could admire the dress she was wearing.
"You're wearing your new dress!" He clasped his hands together with a gentle smirk. He noticed how her dress rode up her thigh, showing off her soft, shimmery skin. He swallowed thickly, trying to regain his composure, "You look amazing. How have you been?"
"Thank you," She hummed as she turned towards him, but when she locked eyes with him, she felt that same pang of jealousy. Part of her wanted to jump his bones just to see if she could make him feel better than that other lady did, the other part of her really wanted to leave to collect her thoughts. "I'm okay."
"I didn't see you come up," Harry noted as he searched around the deck with his gaze, "How long have you been here for?"
"An hour." She stared at him with a knowing look. Harry's smile faltered into a deadpan very quickly, pulling his lips into his mouth as he nodded slowly. "Your girlfriend is cute by the way," She cleared her throat as she gestured back towards his office, "Next time you should tell her to put her shirt on before leaving the yacht, not while she's leaving."
Harry didn't know what to say. Genuinely, he didn't. He didn't feel the need to say sorry because they weren't together and as stated before, they had agreed upon something casual. But he was just a little sorry that she had to see that.
"Oh, she's not..." He trailed off, clearing his throat into his fist with a shake of his head, "She's not my girlfriend, just a...woman. One time thing. That's all."
She hummed in acknowledgment.
His eyes searched over her features, trying to get a grasp on what she was thinking, but she was incredibly hard to read. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she didn't care. Maybe jealous, perhaps?
"Well, I'm here," She said softly, "Did you say you had plans tonight?"
Harry nodded softly. "Erm, yeah, it's a business party. Not really formal, more relaxed. Wanted you to come with me. I mean-- if you would like?"
Her fingers tapped along her thighs softly, staring off into the ocean that shimmered with the reflection of the sun. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't a little upset about finding him fucking someone else, but she was a pretty petty person. One that would do anything to get the attention she deserved.
The party would be a good opportunity for that.
"Yes," She nodded, showing her teeth as she smirked, "I think I would like that, actually."
When Harry said that it was a relaxed business party, she had thought that he meant quiet and business casual, but no. This was far from it. It was at his boss' house, given it was huge, and there were people everywhere when they showed up. The music was just loud enough to hear it from the outside, but not loud enough to break eardrums.
She's glad she decided to wear something sexy. One of the black dresses that hugged her body and showed off how full her ass was, not to mention her breasts looked just as good. Harry's jaw nearly dropped when he saw her in it and that was the reaction she was going for. Though, after seeing him hook up with that woman she had quickly realized that this wasn't a sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship anymore. She wanted him, in the most casual way, and she wanted to have him all to herself.
And that's what she was working towards tonight.
There were people in groups, spread out, all chatting each other with drinks in their hands. Harry pulled her to a group of people that he was familiar with the most; and that was his close work buddies that he took business trips with.
"Hey, everyone," Harry said cooly, a hand resting on her back as he scanned around the group of his friends, "Sorry we are a bit late, traffic was terrible."
Jake, one of his friends, panned his sight to the new girl that Harry had wrapped around his arm. "Not a problem--Who's this, Styles?" His voice was laced with curiosity and more-so a playful tone.
"I'm Y/N!" She chirped softly, extending her hand out. Jake took it with light fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of her hand. Her cheeks heated up at the gesture while Harry's fingers dug into the back of her spin, eyes squinting at the boldness of his friend.
"This is my girl." Harry said loudly, bluntly, enough that Jake would drop her hand and try to apologize without tripping over his own words. Though, to her, it was a shock to hear something like that. If she wasn't so naive, she could've sworn that that Harry got jealous too.
Something that tasted very sweet on her tongue.
"Would you like a drink?" Harry turned towards her with his fingers still burning her skin. She looked into his eyes, knowing something was off while Jake still stared frantically between the two of them.
"Sorry, Harry, I didn't know--" Jake tried to apologize, but Harry flicked his wrist up to stop his apology.
"Not a problem, Jake," Harry offered a kind smile, then looked back at Y/N who was stiff, standing there awkwardly. "A drink, Y/N?"
She blinked hard. "Yes, I would like one."
With that, Harry excused the both of them to the kitchen where the alcohol was at. She was confused at his sudden passive aggressive manner that seemed to radiate off the heat of his skin. Even when showing her to another room, his hand never left her back.
"What was that about?" She dared to ask as she grabbed one of the flutes of champagne. Harry fixed his top coat, fingers gliding underneath his collar as he spared her a glance.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"My girl." She mocked him, causing him to stiffen at the words, but then relaxed by to the same composure.
"I didn't want him to touch you." Harry said through his sip of alcohol, now avoiding eye contact with her. "Jake will fuck anything that walks."
"Maybe that's what I want," She challenged, wanting to see how far she could push him. See how far she could get him on the edge before pushing him off.
Harry had a choice to sink or swim.
She wanted to see which choice he would make.
Harry's jaw clenched tightly. He said nothing.
"Maybe I would like to see how far Jake is willing to go with me tonight," She stretched her leg out, causing Harry to watch as her muscles toned, and of course he couldn't stop himself from nearly fucking her in his mind. "You wouldn't mind, would you? If I left with Jake tonight?"
"Y/N..." He warned, staring at her fingers that were dangerously close to her breasts.
"I would love to get fucked tonight," Her hips jetted out, carefree of the people around her, even if they were Harry's co-workers. She didn't care. She wanted to make a point. "I can only imagine the things he could do with his mouth, his lips were so soft--"
"And the way his fingers felt--"
"I said that is enough--"
Her fingers feathered over her breasts, staring deeply into his green eyes that were fiery with rage. Her lips curved into a soft smirk as her fingers barely snuck themselves into her bra right at the top of the dip of her dress. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, Harry was grabbing her wrist and pulling her out of the kitchen.
They made a left turn down a hallway, and then a right turn down another and Harry quickly pushed her against the wall with his fingers having a light lock on her jaw.
"You are testing me tonight," Harry whispered raw into her ear with a harsh breath, "Why? You know what you're doing, yet you test me."
She giggled softly, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck. "So you can fuck that woman, but I can't fuck someone else?"
Harry let out a groan, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "You wanna know something, Y/N?"
"I was..." His voice feathered around the shell of her ear as his fingers let loose of her jaw, grazing down her neck to create a cluster of goosebumps, "Thinking of you the entire time."
Her throat went dry, a low grunt just barely escaping the back of her throat as Harry's hot lips pressed against her jawline. She mumbled something incoherent, not anything that he could hear. His fingers stopped right at her chest.
"Were you?" She asked as she played with the curls on the back of his head. He nodded softly, fingers digging into her skin softly as he placed a gentle kiss to her jaw.
"Yeah," He confessed, "I can't lie. I can assure you I'm a gentleman, but I can't help but to think about you."
She swallowed thickly, feeling her heart thump against her chest as she craned her neck to look at him. Harry's eyes fluttered, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze.
"I wanted to rip that bitch apart when I saw her," She confessed too, since this was apparently some sort of baptism for their mortal thoughts. "Felt like that should have been me. Not her."
Harry smirked teasingly, pushing his thumb against her lip as he stared darkly down into her eyes. "Jealous much?"
"You tell me after the shit you just pulled back there," She coo'd softly as she mimicked his thumb onto his bottom lip, pulling it down ever so softly to show his bottom teeth before releasing it.
"Touche," He cleared his throat as he pulled away from her, his fingers finding their way back to his disheveled top coat as he created a healthy distance from the both of them. He knew that if he got too close to her that he would end up fucking her in his boss' bathroom and that was not his plans for the night.
His eyes swiped over her body, licking his bottom lip. "Take my coat."
"Why?" She perked her brow in defense.
"Because," Harry shedded it off before draping it over her shoulders, "If Jake looks at you one more time, I think I might kill him."
"That's kinda hot," She coo'd out with laughter, and Harry shot her a taunting look, "What?"
"Can I kiss you?" He breathed out with shaky hands. She noticed how shaky his hands were from the way his fingers moved when he pushed his lips up to his top teeth to bite on them.
She stepped forward, hands finding his hips before getting on the tip of her toes to meet his height. Harry gulped. She took his lips into hers, and Harry felt like his knees were going to buckle. She tasted just like he thought she would. His hands found her shoulders as he pressed a hard kiss to her lips, a grunt leaving his lips as his tongue flicked at her bottom lip. She moaned, parting her lips, giving Harry enough space before he pushed his tongue into her mouth and swiped his tongue across hers.
He was getting aroused, and that was something he didn't want visible, but he couldn't stop once he started. He knew that she was addictive but not in this way. Not in the way that he wanted to suffocate himself in her. She was a fresh line of coke he wanted to rip on every morning, perhaps even four times a day. She was beautiful in all her glory, and even in this kind of arrangement they had, he wanted her to himself.
She pulled away from him when the kiss got heated, leaving Harry to become so suddenly cold.
"I'm sorry--" He went to apologize, but she quickly swiped his bottom lip again and smiled at him.
"If you see her again," She stepped towards him, Harry looked confused as her hand slid between the both of them and found its way to his cock that was half chubbed. She gripped it tightly, leaving Harry to gasp loudly and grip her wrist for mercy.
"I will fuck you so good that you will meet God."
"Y/N, let go--" Harry strained with a reddened face.
"Say you understand."
"I understand!' Harry whimpered as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, silently begging for her to let go.
"Good." She kissed the side of his head before disappearing back to the party. Harry was left behind, cupping his dick as he tried to catch his breath.
"Oh my god," Harry whispered as he tried to adjust himself, staring down the hallway that she had just left in, "What a fuckin' woman she is."