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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

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Loved You First

Summary: a requested by: roryknoelle -"Could you do a friends to lovers smut with y/n and Harry, where Harry keeps seeing her date someone else, gets jealous and finally confesses. Also could you make it as dirty as possible lmao"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, jealous Harry, oral (both), fingering, slight cockwarming, slight punishment, praising, absolute filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

FINE LINE HARRY

"So." Harry says, "You have a date tonight?"

I nod, "Yeah." I look over at him, "Is that okay with you?"

He laughs, "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

I shrug, "I don't know. It seemed like there was more to it." He shakes his head and goes back to watching tv, "I just wasn't sure if we were hanging out tonight or not."

"Oh god, did we have plans to? Did I totally double book myself?" I ask in a panic. He smile and shakes his head, "No, no. I was just asking."

I let out a sigh, "Oh okay. Good. We can hang out after?"

He raises his eyebrows, "What if he wants to come back here after? What are you going to tell him about the very handsome man camping out on your couch?"

He smirks and I laugh, "Okay first off. That was very egotistical, and second off, I wouldn't bring a guy back to my place. I don't want them knowing where I live until I know them better."

I look up from washing the dishes and he's looking at the tv, "Did you hear anything I said?"

He looks over at me, "What? Sorry. You lost me after you called me egotistical." He smirks and looks back at the tv.

I roll my eyes and smile. My eyes linger on Harry until my phone dings. He looks over and I quickly look away from him. I wipe my hands on my pants and pick up my phone,

Shawn: Would you like to meet at 6 for dinner instead of 8?

"He wants to meet at six instead of eight? Is that weird?" I bite my fingernail and look at Harry.

He shrugs, "Maybe he turns into a werewolf at nine." He move his fingers up and down, "Oooooo."

I laugh, "Stop it."

"How many dates have you been on with this guy?" Harry walks up and leans on the counter.

"This will be three."

"Three? Hmm." He shakes his head.

"What?"

He shakes his head and holds his hands out.

"Harry. What?" I walk over and set my phone down on the counter, "Talk to me."

"I think.. I'm going to go to the bar tonight." He taps the counter, "Feel free to join me?"

"You know.. hold on." I tap my screen and smile as I do.

"What are you doing? Y/N. What are you-" he snatches my phone right after I hit send.

"Does your sister want to come out for drinks with us? I have a friend who is single and we can do a double date if you want." He drops the phone and looks at me with his mouth open, "Why? What. I don't-" he shakes his head.

"Come on, Harry. We can still hang out and you can maybe meet someone. His sister is very pretty and he did mention that all she ever finds is assholes, so I kind of talked you up a little bit so please. Don't be an asshole."

He sighs, "Y/N.. I don't.. I meant alone. With-"

"I know. But going to the bar sounds a lot more fun than some boring dinner." I look down at my phone.

"So he's boring?" Harry crosses his arms, "Hmm."

I shake my head, "No, no. I just mea-"

"No no." He cuts me off, "I know. You'd rather have me there incase things go south and you need a little pick me up."

I tilt my head, "That was one time Harry." I smirk slightly, "But it was a very good time. I will say that."

"My ego thanks you." He laughs, "I'm going to head home and get ready, I guess I'll go to the bar with you and your thing. I'll be back later."

"The thing's sister, Harry. You have a date, too!" I yell as he shuts my door.

——

There's a knock on my door and I walk to it, "Coming."

I open the door and put the back of my earring on, "Hey." I say with a smile. Harry is dressed in a pair of white pants and a black half unbuttoned shirt. I close the door and turn around, eyeing him up and down.

Harry looks me up and down and walks in, "Hello to you, too." I smile and pull my dress down, "Too much?"

He shakes his head and gives me a quick, "No."

"You okay?"

He mumbles something, but I can hear what he says.

"What?"

"I said I'm great. I just need a drink." He smiles and motions to the door, "Are we ready to go meet thing one and thing two?"

I laugh slightly, "Yeah yeah. I have to grab my purse and then we can go."

——

The car ride to the bar was very quiet, which isn't normal for Harry, but I didn't push because if it was really bothering him he'd talk to me .. eventually.

"Ready?" I ask giving him a smile. He smiles slightly and reaches over to fix my hair, "You look beautiful. If he doesn't see it, he's a fucking idiot."

He gets out of the car and I get out after him, "Thank you, Harry." I nudge his arm as he opens the door for me. I walk in and stand there, looking through the people for Shawn and his sister.

He raises his hand and I wave back, "They're over there. Come on!" I yell over the music to Harry and grab his wrist, pulling him along behind me.

"Hey, you look beautiful." Shawn says pulling me in for a hug. He glances over at Harry and his face kind of falls. Harry smirks and holds his hand out, "Hi, I'm Harry."

Shawn looks down at me and slowly stretches his arm out, "Shawn." He looks back at me and smiles, "Oh." His voice is nervous, "My sister is.." his hand falls down with a slap on his leg, "Already dancing with another guy."

I frown, "Did you tell her about Harry?"

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah I-"

"Oh my god, you must be y/n. Shawn talks about you all the time." She leans in and hugs me.

She's clearly tipsy already.

"Who's your friend?" She asks biting her lip while looking at Harry.

"That's Harry, Zoe." Shawn says quickly, "Harry. Zoe."

She walks over and lays a hand on Harry's arm.

I straighten up and look up at Harry, who looks very unamused.

"You're much more good looking than Shawn made you out to be. Come dance with me?" Zoe pulls on his arm and he pulls his arm away, "I need to drink."

He keeps his eyes on me until he turns to the bartender.

"He seems very.. gentleman like." Shawn clears his throat and looks down at me, "What are you having?"

"Already got it." Harry cuts in. He places a glass in my hand, "Tequila sunrise." He smiles and winks at me.

"Oh, yeah. Cool, cool." Shawn clenches his jaw and lets out a sigh, "Why don't we go dance? Yeah?"

I look over my shoulder mouthing a "thank you" to Harry. He nods and holds his drink up and Zoe walks back up to him.

I kind of feel guilty for setting him up on a blind date.

Shawn grabs my hips with his hands and I sip my drink. He spins me around and my eyes immediately find Harry.

His eyes are set on me and only me. Zoe keeps trying to talk to him but he just shrugs and nods, not breaking his stare.

She looks over at me and gives me a mean look, moving closer to Harry with a smirk growing on her face.

Shawn spins me around and pulls me closer to him, moving his body with mine.

I suddenly feel sick, like I don't want to be here anymore. I step back and finish my drink, "I need another one."

He nods and leads me back to the bar.

Zoe is still blabbing to Harry and he nods, "Mhm." Shawn hands me drink and I sit down on the bar stool.

"So, y/n." Shawn sits down and lays a hand on my thigh, "What are your plans after this?"

I shrug and aggressively sip my straw, "I'm not.. too sure really."

"Oh well I thought you'd like to maybe come back to my place?"

No.

"Oh, well.. I actually have to be up early so.. I really wasn't planning on staying out too late." I lie, "Maybe so-"

"Ah." Zoe yells, "What the hell, Shawn. I thought you were setting me up with someone who wasn't an asshole." Zoe slams her glass down and scoffs as she walks away.

"What the hell did you do to my sister, Harry?" Shawn says standing up. Harry turns slowly and sets his glass down, "I didn't do anything, Shawn." Harry chuckles slightly, "That was the issue, apparently."

"What are you saying?" Shawn steps closer and I get up, putting my hands on each of their chests, "okay. Okay. Stop it." I look at both of them and Harry shakes his head, "Fuck this. I'm not settling for someone's slutty sister."

"You mother fu-" Shawn goes for Harry but I step in between them, "You gonna hit me too?" He sighs and steps back.

"I'm out of here." Harry grumbles and walks away.

"I don't know what his problem is, but he needs to seriously work on his shit." Shawn runs a hand through his hair, "I'm going to go find Zoe." He kisses my head, "I'll call you later."

I stand there for a a moment before I walk out of the bar. I walk down the street a few steps looking for Harry before I pull my phone out to call him.

I hear his phone ring and I jump turning towards the ally, "What the fuck is wrong with you, Harry?" I yell as I shove my phone back into my purse. He walks towards me and shakes his head, "If you're just going to yell at me, I'd rather not hear it."

"What the hell was that?" I ask but he keeps walking. I let out a groan, "Fuck. Harry." I walk quickly to catch up to him, my heels clicking and clacking against the side walk.

He stops when he reaches his car and turns around, "What do you want me to say? Hmm?" He flings his hands in the air, "I wasn't interested in Zoe.. I'm-"

He stops talking and sighs, "You know what.. not even going to waste my breathe."

"What is going on with you? Seriously Harry."

He reaches for the door handle and I put my hands on the hood of his car, "You're not going anywhere until you talk to me."

He stands there with his arms crossed.

"I tried to do you a favor and help you by setting you up with someone who-"

"Help me?" He cuts me off and laughs, "No." he shakes his head.

I sigh and shake my head, "I don't know what you want me to do."

"We'll for starters, don't set me up with your boyfriend's sister." He yells and fails to hold back his laugh.

"What did you do that caused her to make a scene like that?" I look up at him and he shrugs, "Is because I just didn't like her not a good enough answer?"

"But why didn't you-"

"Because she isn't you." He yells cutting me off.

I stand there staring at him and watch at he slowly walks over to me. I stand up from leaning on the car and turn towards him.

"She isn't you." He whispers as he walks up to me quickly, grabbing my face and pulling me in to kiss him.

Our lips move in sync as he pushes be back against the car, "I'm so fucking in love with you, y/n. I wish you would have noticed it sooner."

His lips go back to mine before I even have a chance to say anything. His tongue pushes against mine and he kisses back my jaw line, "Please." He begs, "Just let me finally have you."

I slowly look up at him and nod, "Take me home, Harry." He kisses me again and quickly opens the car door. I slide in and take a deep breathe as I pull the seat belt over my body.

"There's a lot of things I've been waiting for, y/n." He starts the car, "you being all of them."

I reach over and twirl his hair around my fingers, "Then let's cross them off." I bite my lip, "I love you. I just-" I sigh and shrug, "I wasn't sure if you were just my friend or not."

"I don't want to be friends, y/n. Since that night, I've had this.. this love for you and seeing you date other guys.. fuck." He tilts his head and sigh, "Makes me so-"

"Jealous?" I ask with a smirk.

He nods, "And so fucking pissed." He lays a hand on my thigh, "Seeing him touch you.." he slides his hand up, "Made me want to take you, lift that hot little dress up, and fuck the absolute fucking shit out of you on the bar."

His words make my breathe catch in my throat, "Harry." I whisper lowly.

"I've wanted you. For so long, y/n. I just can't sit back and watch you leave me anymore."

I unbuckle and lean over. I plant kisses along his jaw line and lay a hand on his already hard cock that straining against his pants, "I'm not going anywhere."

He moans as I palm his cock, "I promise I'll make it up to you when we get home." I lick up his neck and gently sink my teeth onto his ear lobe, "Punish me, baby. Treat me like your little slut."

He leans his head back slightly and groans, "Oh fuck, I'm going to. I promise."

I continue to kiss his neck, leaving little hickeys here and there. He moans as I grip his cock, "Almost home, baby."

I fall back into the seat and nod, "You have me so wet, Harry." I bring my dress up slightly and run a finger up and down my clothed pussy.

"I can't wait for your cock to be inside of me." I smile and bite my lip as he glances over at me. He clenches his jaw and reaches over. He slips his fingers inside the side of my panties and rubs a finger up and down my slit.

"Fuck." He groans shifting in his seat, "You are so fucking soaked for me."

His finger plays around with my folds, sliding in and out every now and then.

I moan loudly and tilt my head back, "Fuck, Harry."

He sucks in air, "My name is so hot coming from your lips." He takes his hand away and parks the car. He doesn't give me a moment to move before he's unbuckled and leaning over the center console.

His fingers find their place in my pussy, this time he isn't teasing me.

He thrusts his fingers in and out at a fast but satisfyingly pace.

I arch my back and slam my hand against the dash, letting out a pleasured scream.

Harry kisses me to quiet me, "Shh, baby. Don't want to cause a scene in the parking lot."

His hand keeps fucking me, quickly bringing me to, what I assume is, the first orgasm of many. I whimper against his lips and he chuckles, "No one can make you cum like I can."

I nod, my chest rising and falling quickly, "Only you, Harry."

"Only me. Now, come on." He slowly pulls his fingers out and fixes my drenched panties. I slowly spin around and set my legs on the floor. Harry opens my door and helps me out.

He pulls me over and kisses me, "I can't keep my hands off of you." He presses his cock into my leg, "Fuck." He shuts the door with a slam, "Come on."

I follow him up to my door and he unlocks it with his key, not letting go of my hand. He pulls me in and my back meets the door as it slams shut.

He drops to his knees and pulls the wet fabric down my legs. He pushes my dress up and lifts my leg as His mouth attaches to me and I let out a gasp, "Fuck. Fuck." I grab the door knob and grab a fistful of Harry's hair with my other.

He moans against me and nudges my clit with his nose, "Mmm."

"H-Harry." I already feel like I'm going to cum again, "Fu-" I whimper and push my head into the door, "Fuck." I moan and roll my hips on his tongue.

"You taste heavenly, y/n." He groans as he stands up. He places a hand around my neck, his fingers slowly squeezing the sides. He kisses me and I moan as I taste myself on his tongue.

"Don't you taste good, sweetheart?" He whispers, "I could eat you all day."

I nod and moan at his words.

He slips his hands behind me to my back and slowly unzips my dress and quickly takes it off my body.

He takes a step back, his eyes scan over my naked figure and he smirks, "I've missed seeing you like this."

I bite my lip and watch him as he admires me.

He unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way, shrugging it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. He kicks off his shoes and undoes his pants.

I look down at his cock that's straining against his boxers and I step towards him.

"Let's go somewhere that's more comfortable for your knees, baby." He holds his hand out and I take it. He leads me up the steps and as soon as we reach the top, we're on each other making out as we back into the bedroom.

I kick my heels off before falling back onto the bed, "Fuck." He groans as he takes his boxers off. He pumps his cock a few times and crawl up and lay on my stomach, "Let me."

Before he answers I take his cock in my mouth. I work the tip with my tongue and his breathe hitches and he moans. "Fuck, y/n."

I wrap my hand around him, stroking him, "Does that feel good, daddy?"

His snaps down quickly and a smirk grows on his lips, "It feels amazing, baby." He brushes a hand over my hair, "Now keep doing it." He pushes my head back down onto his cock and he lets out a groan, "Fuck, yeah baby."

I bob my head up and down and reach up to gently massage his balls. He lets out a gasp and bucks his hips, "Sh-shit."

He pulls back, "You're going to make me cum, and I really don't want to end the night this early." He smiles and walks around to sit on the bed. I turn my body and lay on my side, "How do you want me?"

He smirks and leans back against the headboard. He motions for me to come to him, "Any way I can get you." He whispers as I straddle him.

I drag my fingers down his chest and stomach and wrap my fingers around his cock, holding it as I slide down onto him. I bring my hand up and lay it on his chest, "Harry." I breathe out.

He bites his lip and grips my hips, "That feel good?"

I nod quickly, "Yes."

He brushes hair from my face, "Don't move."

"W-what?"

"You heard me." He smirks and tilts his head back and rests it, "I'm punishing you. Remember? So you're going to sit there for a little bit and I'm going to admire how fucking sexy you look on my cock."

I whimper slightly, "no, please."

He smirks, "Uh huh."

I dig my nails into his shoulders, "Harry." I whine, "Please."

"If you move, I'll make your wait longer for my cock and I know you want it so bad." He reaches up and plays with my nipples, "I love you."

I look at him, forgetting what we're doing for a moment and smile, "I love y-you." He thrusts his hips up gasping me to gasp, "Harry."

"Say it again. I love when you say it."

He grips my hips and slowly rocks them on his cock. The teasing has my brain fuzzy, "I-I.." I moan, "I love.. fuck.. I love you." I wrap my arms around his neck, "I love you."

He presses his lips to mine and slides a hand up my back, "I've waited to hear you say that." He kisses down my neck, "Now fuck your self on my cock, baby."

I quickly start to bounce, moaning loudly against his neck, "H-Harry."

He moans and holds me tighter, "Fuck."

He lets me ride him for a little longer before he leans me back, "Bend over." I nod and roll off of him, getting onto my knees. I slowly bend over and rest my head on the bed.

Harry positions himself behind me and brings his hand down on my ass cheek with a hard slap before he grips my hips.

I let out a whimper and he pushes himself into me, "Fuck."

He pulls out and thrusts in hard which causes me to let out a scream, "Fuck."

His thrusts are hard and slow and his moans are loud.

"You sound so hot, Harry." I moan pushing my hips back to meet his. He trails a hand up my back and wraps my hair around it, "Do I?" He groans as he pulls me up so my back meets his chest, "You like it when I moan for you?"

"Yes daddy." I moan, "Fuck, yesyesyes."

"Only for you, huh?" He pulls my hair and pushes into me, "Hmm?"

"O-only for me." I repeat, "Only me."

"You're damn right baby." He starts to thrusts again and rests his head on my shoulder, "Fuck." I reach back to grab his wrist but he takes my arm and pins it against my lower back.

He reaches around and his fingers wrap around my throat with his other hand.

I bite my lip and my moans are slightly muffled.

"Your pussy feels fucking good squeezing around my cock." He moans, "Fuck."

I whimper and my eyes roll back as I cum again.

"Again? Look at you, sweetheart. Keeping daddy's cock wet." He lets go of my throat and his thrusts slow down. He lets go of my arm and rolls me over, leaning down to hover his body over mine, "You're going to make me cum soon, where do you want it?"

I lean up and kiss him, "Where ever you want me to have it."

He smirks, "Good answer, sweetheart." He slide aback in and groans, "You're so good to me." He interlocks his fingers with mine and pins my hands above my head.

I wrap my legs around his waist and arch my back, "Fuck. Fuck." I moan and tilt my head back.

"Y/N." Harry breathes out, "I-I.. you need to.. un-"

I tighten my legs around him, "I want all of you."

He smirks and his head falls slightly as he groans one final time. He squeezes my hands as he cums.

He lifts his head and shakes it's while looking at me, "You.." he laughs slightly and gently let's go of my hands.

"Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time, okay." I laugh and shrug, "Nothing we can do about it now." He nods, "You're right. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?"

He reaches out and brushes my cheek with his thumb. I shake my head and lay a hand on his, "No. I'm okay." He leans in and kisses me, "You know. I should probably ask just to make it official."

I tilt my head, my head still slightly fuzzy.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

I smile and nod, "Yes, Harry. Only if you'll be my boyfriend?" I laugh and he smiles.

"I think I can do that." He leans in and kisses me, "I really do love you."

I look down at him and run a hand through his hair, "And I really love you." He smiles and gets up and walks over to my dresser, "Here." He pulls out a shirt and throws it to me.

I unfold it and smile, "When did you put that in there?" I slip his shirt on. He shrugs, "Earlier today. I knew you liked it so much, so." He slips on a a pair of sweats he had in the bottom drawer and I laugh, "When did you move in?"

He shrugs, "I'm always here so."

"No, no. I'm not complaining, that's actually smart." I stand up and he holds up a lace pair of panties, "Wear these ones please? And no pants." He winks.

"Give them here." I smile and shake my head, "Spoiled is what you are, Harry. Spoiled." He walks over to me and holds me, "I know. I know. But. I'll make you something to eat in return."

"Oh okay, now I'm spoiled. Please do."

We walk downstairs and I laugh as I seen the trail of clothes going from the door to the steps.

My phone rings in my purse and I grab it off the floor and get it out, "Oh shit."

"What babe?" Harry asks peaking his head out from the kitchen.

"It's thing one calling." I roll my eyes and toss it onto the couch. I go to walk away and it rings again. Harry walks out with a smirk and picks it up, "She's busy."

He chuckles and hangs up, "Took care of that for you."

He tosses my phone down and pulls me with him to the kitchen.

"Thank you." I say looking up at him. He gives me a kiss, "Anything for you."

——

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avatar-anna · 5 months

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Champagne Problems

so...this is super long, the longest fic i've written in a hot minute. like 18.k words long. i wasn't going to post it until part two was underway, but i'm kind of excited to share it. here is the aftermath of champagne problems...

Part Two

*.*

"Don Perignon, you bought it, no crowd of friends applauded, your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems."

Your fingers moved across the keys of the grand piano as you mumbled softly to yourself, only loud enough that the voice recorder on your phone would pick up on it. This wasn't your typical method of songwriting, you weren't even sure there was a song to actually write; but the melody had been haunting you for days, pressing against your mind until you finally sat down and played it.

It wasn't often you thought of the events that occurred a year and a half ago. You usually did everything in your power not to think about that night, knowing that nothing ever good came out of dwelling on that particular wrinkle of your past. You only looked forward, sometimes hoping that if you didn't think about what happened, your memories of the worst night of your life would eventually disappear from your mind altogether.

But there was something about this melody that brought that night to the forefront of your memory. You'd played it over and over on the piano for a few minutes, waiting for the words to come. Your mind kept circling back to the past, and after trying to avoid it, you finally let emotion win out. No one was in the studio with you anyway, it would be safe to unlock that particular box. Just for a few minutes.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked up in the head," you said to yourself, the last part coming out as an afterthought. You laughed a little to yourself, remembering the disapproving stares and the whispers behind your back that people always thought went unnoticed by you. "But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shed."

Despite knowing that leaving your would-be fiance was the right choice for you, breaking up with him was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It still hurt to remember that night, to recall the look of absolute devastation on his face when you stopped him from reaching into his pocket for the little velvet box you knew was in there. He didn't deserve to be wrecked so thoroughly, especially by someone like you. He had been sweet and kind and gentlemanly. He treated you like a princess and defended you to his family when they didn't approve. He was everything a man should've been to you and more.

And all you could do in return was prove his family right.

You stopped murmuring lyrics for a moment, letting that last thought float through the empty room on somber notes. You thought about your ex now, wondering where he was now and hoping he was well. You hoped he was in love and happy, that he'd forgotten all about you. He deserved all the best things that love could grant a person. You wanted that for him. You wanted someone who had the capacity for the kind of love he wanted to give.

Repeating the last few lines again, the next few thoughts came pouring out of you, the words carrying a bittersweet taste to them.

"Your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my Champagne problems."

The song tapered off soon after that, and you realized there was nothing left in you to say. You felt lighter afterwards, as if pushing some of those long-forgotten memories out of you and onto the grand piano eased the weight you'd been carrying around on your shoulders for the last eighteen months. Quickly stopping the recording, you set a reminder on your phone to listen to it tomorrow and write down everything you'd said. The recording itself was lengthy, long pauses stretching between lyrics as you worked through your memories and attempted to vocalize them. Hopefully something was there to actually mold into verses and a chorus, if not, it was a rather odd but surprisingly satisfying therapy session.

Gathering your things into the bag at your feet, you stood up from the piano, stretching your arms above your head. It was easy to get lost in a good melody, but your poor body always paid the price if you spent too much time bent over a guitar or piano.

It was as you stretched that you realized someone was at the door. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching as you shouldered your bag and slipped your shoes back on your socked feet. He didn't say anything as you walked over to him, just stepped out of the way so you could walk out of the studio. Harry normally wasn't this quiet, in fact, he could be quite the chatterbox if the mood struck him. But his silence told you he'd probably heard more of your session than you would've liked. Because one thing Harry liked to do in all his chattering was pepper you with questions about yourself, which was annoying since you were constantly trying to have him not get to know you.

"Coffee?" was all he said as you walked toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The sleeve of his patterned sweater brushed against your arm, and you resisted the urge to lean into him. He always wore the coziest clothes when in the studio, and it made you want to walk just a little bit closer to his side, for no other reason than the feel of soft material on your arm and not the person wearing them.

Nodding, you said, "Sure."

Harry qucikly pressed the button when you reached the elevator, and you couldn't help but laugh a little. In the time you'd spent not getting to know him, you discovered that he was the kind of person that just had to press the elevator buttons. It didn't matter how many people he was with, it was like he took joy in something as simple as getting to press a button and watch it light up beneath his finger. He'd actually speed-walked to get ahead of you a couple times just so he could press the down button. It was kind of annoying, and perhaps a little childish, but you'd surprisingly grown to find it endearing. A quirk of Harry's that just made him who he was.

The ride down the elevator was quiet, and it wasn't until you were out on the street that he finally spoke. "I'm thinking about getting a pet."

You'd been bracing yourself for the inevitable questions about the song you'd been recording, and when they didn't come, your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, though you were sure Harry noticed. "Really?"

"Yeah. All my friends are disgustingly in love," Harry said with a playful shudder. "I'm feeling like a third wheel most days, so I thought I would seek companionship of the furry variety. Wait, that came out wrong. I didn't mean—"

You chuckled at his stuttering, at the flush creeping up his neck and warming his cheeks. "I know what you mean," you said, sparing him any more embarrassment. "So what are you thinking then? Dog? Cat? Hamster?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing," he said, quickly recovering from his chagrin. "I'm not sure I have the time necessary to devote to training a puppy, but I'm also worried about getting a cat and it absolutely hating me, and..."

You listened as Harry explained in great detail the pros and cons of each kind of domestic animal one could have. He spoke animatedly with his hands, looking at you with those big green eyes of his, as if to make sure you were following his train of thought.

You never planned on befriending Harry, and even now you weren't sure that whatever was going on between you was considered a friendship. You'd always been the type to keep to yourself, especially after what happened with your ex. You'd not only lost him after the break up, but friends too, friends who thought that what you did to your ex was despicable and reprehensible and not worth keeping a friendship over, picking sides when you hadn't realized there were any. It hurt to lose so many people in one fell swoop, and you decided soon after that you were better off alone. Except for your brothers of course, but all of you kept so busy that it was hard to keep track of one another on a good day.

Outside of them, you realized it was hard to hurt someone when there was no one around you to hurt.

But Harry was different. You'd seen him around the building where you worked on your songs—in the hallways, waiting for the elevator (after pushing the button, of course), at the vending machine, on your way out of the studio or while he was entering it to start his session. The first thing you noticed was that he was never alone. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The first thing you really noticed was his smile, how it lit up his entire face and showcased the most adorable dimples you'd ever seen. But since you refused to admit that, the first thing you noticed was that he was never alone.

Harry was always coming and going with one or two or sometimes three people around him. He was always engaged in some kind of conversation, his head always turned as he listened aptly to what his friend was saying. It seemed so odd to you that he was hardly ever by himself. It was like a foreign language to you, and you imagined your constant solitude felt the same to him.

"Anytime you want to weigh in here would be great."

"If you want a pet, get one," you said simply.

Harry rolled his eyes as he held open the door to the coffee shop a couple blocks down the street from the building where you both worked, as if he was expecting anything other than your usual direct way of speaking. "If you don't keep this conversation going, then I'm going to have to ask about that incredibly depressing song you were working on, so please, indulge me in the great pet debate of twenty-eighteen."

For the most part, Harry was a pretty easy going guy. He had no problem carrying a conversation, and knew when not to pry. As the months went by, though, he knew how to get you to talk, how to find trap doors in the fortified walls you kept around yourself before you even knew they were there. It would be frustrating if his questions didn't always come with an endearing smile.

So you shrugged, eager to steer clear of any topics regarding your past. "I don't know, I'm a little biased. I've always been a dog person. Buddy's my best friend."

"First of all, I'm offended by the fact that I am not your best friend, and second, since when do you have a dog?"

The conversation paused while you and Harry went up to the counter to order you coffees. Both of you went there enough that the staff knew what you liked—dirty chai for you and an americano for him. It also meant you didn't have to deal with the barista having a mini-freak out at the realization that Harry Styles was in their coffee house. People tended to interrupt your conversations with Harry regularly—on the street, in line for coffee, at the table—but he never seemed bothered by it. He always smiled and indulged in a couple minutes of conversation and the occasional picture before waving goodbye. He always apologized to you afterward, but after the first couple times it happened, you waved him off. None of it was actually his fault, and seeing him interact with his fans became something you actually enjoyed watching. And it was perhaps a very small reminder as to why you preferred to just write songs for other artists, not perform them. You didn't need that kind of attention. For Harry, he seemed to come alive like a flower in bloom.

You? You would probably just wilt.

When you and Harry sat down with your drinks, he raised his brows for you to continue. Wrapping your hands around your cup, you shrugged again. "I've had Buddy for about a year now."

"What kind of dog?"

"Mostly pitbull, I think. I found him in an alley behind a restaurant once, and I know what shelters do to pitbulls, so I adopted him."

You'd come to think of the whole thing as Buddy finding you.

"And you named him Buddy?"

"Yeah, I don't know, after Buddy Holly I guess." You'd grown up listening to classic rock because your brothers did, and the name just kind of made sense to you. And he was just so cute, he was your little buddy. Big buddy now, you supposed. You thought he deserved the cutest name for the cutest boy in your life.

The rest of your time in the coffee house was filled with chatter, mostly from Harry. He talked a little more about the Great Pet Debate, then about the project he and his team was working on. An album, though they were only just getting started seeing as Harry just came back from tour. He tried peppering you with the occasional question, knowing if he asked too many you'd clam up and shut down. It was almost like Harry knew that you were fighting getting to know him, but that it wasn't just him, it was everyone. He was patient with you for some reason, though, seemingly content to chip away at the brick walls around you. Even if all he had was a spoon.

"So...What were you working on at the studio?" Harry finally asked.

You knew it was coming, so answering didn't seem so daunting. "I'm not really sure. The melody had been in my head for days, and I finally decided to play around with it."

"A perfect non-answer from Y/n L/n, everyone," Harry said, though you knew he was joking. His eyes were crinkled with mirth as he hid behind his cup, his brows raising to give you a knowing look.

Nothing about your past was easy to talk about, so you just didn't. After your breakup, you didn't even tell your brothers the finer details, not wanting to relive it or face all their questions. It all brought you an overwhelming sense of shame and despair. But maybe there had been something cathartic about your session today and it left you feeling lighter and open because you found yourself sharing more with Harry.

"It...reminded of me and my ex, so I kind of just let it all out. I'm not even sure what I was doing constituted as songwriting, but," you looked down at your mug. "The melody dredged up some old memories, I guess."

"It sounded painful," Harry said, his voice taking on a soft, sincere tone.

You knew he meant well, but the sympathy made you skittish. "It's fine. It was a long time ago."

"Right, of course," Harry said, catching on to your mood change. "Well, um, my friends and I are having a little get-together of sorts this Saturday. You should come."

"A party?"

"No. A get-together. Very different," Harry corrected.

It made sense, the last time Harry tried to invite you to a party his friend was throwing, you politely declined, claiming they weren't really your thing. They weren't, but it was more that having friends wasn't really your thing.

You wanted to say no again, but when you met Harry's eyes, something in you hesitated. His expression was open, earnest, like he would genuinely be upset if you said you wouldn't come. You didn't quite understand why he wanted to spend time with you so much. Maybe you felt a little bad for always pushing him away, or maybe you were actually warming up to him.

"I, um...that might be fun," you said, not sure if it was nerves or excitement swimming in your belly.

The way Harry's face lit up made saying you would come worth it.

After a few more minutes at the coffee house, you and Harry went your separate ways, but not before he made you promise to join you on one of your morning walks with Buddy Holly. Something must've been in the air today, because you found yourself nodding before heading down the street away from him.

On your way home, you got a phone call from your oldest brother Evan. "Hey, Evan. How's life treating you in the Big Apple?"

"Just fine. It'd be a lot better if I got to see my kid sister more often. Are you still coming for Thanksgiving?"

Of your three brothers, Evan was the one who checked up on you the most. Perhaps that was the nature of being the oldest of four, but he had always been the most responsible, the one to keep you and your other brothers in line. Well, mostly your other brothers. But Evan had always looked out for you. He was the only one you told at length about your breakup. You'd confided in him all your life, and he was coincidentally the only one of your brothers you could count on not to go and beat up on your ex or his family.

"Flight's booked and everything," you told him. "Not sure if I can swing a trip to the lake house, though."

Despite your less than ideal upbringing, you and your brothers had all done pretty well for yourselves. No thanks to your parents, seeing as you all shared a dad who never liked to be with the same woman twice. But you and your brothers all stuck together through thick and thin, supporting and celebrating and sticking together despite the differing parentage between the four of you. And now you were all scattered, your brothers Andrew and Hayden were professional athletes and Evan was a bigshot lawyer. Once you moved out of your hometown, you really only saw your brothers for holidays. And the occasional surprise visit from Andrew, though that hadn't happened in a while.

"That's okay," Evan said. "Next time."

"Next time," you agreed. Then, "How's the family?"

"Good. Sammy's gotten so big. And Laura's already showing."

You grinned as you imagined Evan's family. He deserved a happy ending with a loving family after raising you and the idiots you called brothers. "Another team member for the family football game."

"Speaking of the family football game," Evan said, and you mentally cursed yourself. "Laura's been dying to know if she should set an extra spot at the table."

Immediately, your mind went to Harry, but you quickly whisked that thought away. "Nope. Unless Hayden's got a new girlfriend."

"Really? No one?"

You narrowed your eyes even though Evan couldn't see your expression. "Why are you fishing? Gossip is Andy's thing."

"What? I'm not fishing!" Evan spluttered, but you just scoffed and waited. Evan might've been a shark in the courtroom, but he'd always been terrible at lying to you. "Fine. Laura was reading one of her gossip magazines, and you know I don't pay attention to those, but you know, I might have seen someone who looks an awful lot like you pictured alongside a former boy band member."

Well, shit. You knew that was a reality of being Harry's acquaintance, but you'd always done your best to not pay any attention to it. So far it had done a good job, but now it was coming to bite you in the ass.

"It's nothing, Evan. He's an artist. I'm a songwriter. We work in the same building," you said.

"Fine! Fine," Evan said, and you could just picture him holding his hands up in surrender the way he'd done since you were a teenager. "I just thought I'd ask now and try to soften the blow. I'll just leave you to the wolves."

"Damn you, Evan," you muttered. Evan was the easy brother. It was Andrew and Hayden you had to look out for. They would interrogate you relentlessly, or worse, squeeze the life out of you until you caved. Sighing deeply through your nose, you said, "I will ask if Harry has plans for that weekend. And that is it."

"See? That wasn't so hard!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'll talk to you later."

"You love me!" Evan called just before hanging up.

The call ended just as you pulled up to your apartment. You sat back with a huff, marveling at the strings your brother managed to pull from thousands of miles away. But deep down, you knew Evan was just looking out for you. After everything that happened eighteen months ago, he'd been keeping a close eye. As close an eye as he could all the way from New York. But that was how things worked between you and your brothers. You all looked out for each other, and your older brothers acted as personal security guards to any and everyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. It was both endearing and very annoying.

Very annoying. Now you had to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. Evan was so going to get it.

*.*

On Saturday, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror longer than you normally would've. Harry had used the term "get-together" as a means to ease your nerves, but now that the dreaded day had come, you realized you weren't sure what that meant in terms of dress code. Was this thing laid-back? What if casual still meant dressy to Harry and his friends? Harry usually walked around the studio in jeans and faded t-shirts, but he was still a celebrity. He could see this as an opportunity to dress up.

You looked at all the clothes spread out in your room. You'd changed an embarrassing amount of times now, but nothing seemed fitting for the occasion. I could always text him, you thought, biting your nail as you surveyed the tornado of clothes around you. Harry had given you your number earlier this week so he could text you his address. You hadn't wanted to, as it would open the flood gates for conversation outside the studio, but you eventually gave it up when he stared blankly at you after offering your email as an alternative.

Before you could think too long about it, you picked up your phone and sent a quick text. Before you even had a chance to set it down, Harry sent a reply.

Harry S: We're just chilling at my house. Dress as comfortably as you'd like :))

Well, that wasn't helpful at all, you thought, but didn't say to Harry. You went back to rummaging through your pile of clothes, creating a spot for Buddy when he ambled into your bedroom from the kitchen. In the end, you settled on something simple: jeans, platform shoes, and a colorful fleece jacket over a plain shirt. It felt silly to have wasted so much time on your wardrobe when all you were doing was going to see Harry. And his friends. And that was...intimidating.

The anxiety of meeting Harry's friends, of meeting anyone new, crept through you. You didn't want to go and face the inevitability of disappointing them. Your track record with friends was pretty abysmal. But you found yourself kissing Buddy's head and promising you wouldn't be gone long, and then you were getting in your car and plugging in the address Harry had given you.

The music playing in your car calmed you some. Etta James' voice was both familiar and comfortable, welcome feelings as you pulled up to Harry's house. House was a bit of an understatement, though. Maybe a villa, or an estate. The LA version of those sprawling castles that were all over Europe. Your shoulders were tense as you cruised up the long driveway, though your anxiety eased a bit when you saw that had seen about as much life and mileage parked up front as yours did.

Music was playing inside the house, you could hear the trill of soft guitar and the low hum of a male voice from outside, and you worried if anyone would be able to hear you as you knocked on the door. Thankfully, you only stood on Harry's doorstep for a minute or two, then Harry's familiar grin greeted you.

"You made it!" Harry said, pulling you over the threshold and in for a quick side hug. He looked down at you for a moment, his cheeks flushed and green eyes bright, perhaps from drinking. He shook his head a little before pulling you further into the house. "Come in, come in, everyone is just through here."

Harry led you further into his home, giving you a chance to look around. Despite the grandeur of the outside, Harry's house was actually quite cozy and inviting. Everything was in warm tones, and potted plants and bookshelves piled high with a mix of books and records with titles you couldn't read from this distance. His house looked actually lived in, which couldn't be said for some of the other celebrity homes you'd been in. It didn't happen often as you preferred to work alone, but you occasionally dabbled in writing sessions with other artists. Their homes looked much more modern, and much more cold, than Harry's did.

"My home in London is much smaller," Harry said, noticing your craned neck. Then he shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "But I liked the look of this place. It reminded me of a house I go to in Italy most summers."

"It's beautiful," you said. "I've always wanted to go to Italy."

"You've never been?"

You shook your head, admiring the arch leading into an open kitchen. "I was supposed to go for—"

For my birthday, you couldn't bring yourself to say. Gavin had planned a summer trip to Italy for your birthday, but that never happened. You surprised yourself by revealing that much, and by the way Harry's eyes lit up, you'd taken him by surprise too.

But he didn't press you to finish your thought. He just smiled and led you further into the kitchen. "Come on. You need a drink."

Harry talked while he fixed up your drink. He'd tried to persuade you to take a shot of tequila with him, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, a look on his face that you'd seen one too many times on your brothers when they were trying to stir up trouble. You declined with a laugh, opting for a glass of wine instead. Maybe a boring choice, Harry definitely thought so as he teased by saying, "Booooring!" but you needed to be sharp, and tequila tended to have the opposite effect, so red wine it was.

"Everyone's through here. I hope you like games because Kid brought a new one over and everyone has become quite invested."

Games? Is that what Harry Styles did on his evenings off? Play board games with his friends? Before you could ask, Harry led you into his living room, where everyone was in fact sitting around a rather spacious coffee table, a board game and playing cards spread out around it. It was a small group of about five or six. For some reason you expected more people, even though Harry said otherwise. They were all talking amongst themselves, talking strategy, you presumed, as you recognized the game as one of those territory-winning ones.

All the talking stopped, however, when Harry introduced you to the group.

You felt their eyes on you, judging, picking you apart where you stood. You began to curl in on yourself, wilting at the attention. Involuntarily, you took a step back, but Harry's hand was on your lower back, warm and comforting against you. You should've pulled away, but you didn't, thankful for at least some kind of familiarity among all the new.

It had been so long since you'd had to meet new people in a non-professional setting. You'd met with producers and artists and other industry people all the time, but there was always a wall of professionalism between you and them. You knew how to navigate that space with ease, but here, where people were sitting on pillows and holding playing cards, where you stood as the outlier among what was clearly a tight-knit group, you felt very much like a fish out of water. A fish in space.

"H—Hello," you managed to say, giving everyone a small wave.

One person got up. A young woman with short brown hair, winged eyeliner marking the corners of her eyes. Her smile was surprisingly warm, but what had your eyes widening even more was when she pulled you in for a hug, squeezing tight.

"I'm Sylvia," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?"

You probably shouldn't have said that, but you weren't expecting such a warm welcome.

"Harry talks about you constantly. I swear sometimes he purposely keeps you from us."

"That is not—That is not true," Harry said, speaking to you for a moment. He sounded serious, but his eyes were filled with amusement as if he was used to Sylvia's teasing.

Everyone else introduced themselves, and you tried to keep a smile on your face as you committed their names to memory. They were all part of Harry's "team" except for Sylvia—writers, producers, musicians. "And you?" you asked her as she pulled you down to sit next to her. Sylvia had insisted you be on her team while you learned how to play. She seemed nice, eager to get to know you, but you didn't trust it. Not yet.

"I'm a full-time mom most days, and a part-time life coach to this one," Sylvia joked. She seemed too young to be a mother, but you supposed they came in all shapes and sizes. "But I'm Harry's nutritionist. And friend when he's not being a pain in the ass."

There was a wry grin on the young woman's face that told you she was fond of Harry, and fond of teasing him, if said grin grew when Harry said, "Hey," was anything to go by. It eased your mind a bit, her kindness and obvious fondness for Harry. She spoke animatedly as she caught you up on the rules of the game and gossip from her yoga class. "They're all in love with that one, of course. Can't take him anywhere," she said with a nod in Harry's direction.

When you agreed to join Harry tonight, you figured you would spend your time with him. But Sylvia kept you occupied most of the evening, and he and his friends were rather invested in the game. You were content to watch, enjoying the playful bickering and shouts of surprise and celebration. It was interesting to see how they all interacted with each other. Harry and his friends sat and drank around his coffee table while you nursed your drink, observing with the sweet feeling of nostalgia swimming through your veins.

"Y/n?"

You jumped in your spot on the floor, your wine sloshing around in your glass a little. Thankfully, nothing poured out. You would've been mortified if you'd spilled red wine all over Harry's most likely exorbitantly expensive carpet.

Eyes flicking to a man with short blond hair, you said, "Sorry?"

Kid, you were pretty sure his name was, asked his question again. "Did you first start writing here in LA?"

"Uh...no. Nashville, actually," you said. "I lived in Nashville for a while before moving out here. But I...grew up in a small town just outside."

"You never told me that," Harry said, sounding both intrigued and a little hurt that you'd never shared that with him before.

Emboldened by your near-empty glass, you said, "You never asked."

That earned a few chuckles and a raised brow from Harry as if he'd just accepted a challenge you hadn't meant to create. But you read that look in his eyes with ease. Any look was quite easy to read from Harry. He was expressive, an open book. He was going to take this as an opportunity to ask you all the questions he'd been witholding.

Throwing back the rest of your wine, you avoided his eye and ignored the excited flip in your belly.

*.*

If it wasn't for your dog, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to keep up with Harry Styles and his impossibly long gait.

He'd kept to his word, insisting that he join you on one of your walks with Buddy Holly. It wasn't until a few days after you went to his house for the first time, but one morning before you usually headed into the studio, he texted and asked if he could join you for your morning walk with your dog. It took some convincing, which really only meant a series of uninterrupted texts until you finally relented.

Buddy took to Harry immediately, of course, though that wasn't a surprise, seeing as your dog was friendly with everyone. But it meant a lot to you that he seemed to like Harry so much. Buddy was a rescue, and you couldn't imagine the awful things he'd been through before you'd given him a proper home.

Now he walked on the sidewalk excitedly, pulling you on his leash as his stubby tail waved around wildly. Harry walked beside you, his curly hair pulled back with a little black claw clip, some of it sticking up in a cute tuft. As he walked beside you, you took the opportunity to study him. There was a little scruff on his cheeks and jaw, creeping down the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong and angular, his cheekbones sharp. Harry really was beautiful. You understood why so many people went so crazy for him.

"See anything you like?"

Warmth flushed your cheeks as you quickly looked ahead, even if the damage was already done. Harry rarely, if ever, caught you staring at him, mostly because it didn't happen often. But in the last few weeks, you'd found yourself admiring him more and more. The movements he made with his hand as he told a story, the mischievous glint in his eye when he made you laugh, the way his arms moved beneath his shirt, how his lips curled around a smile. You cataloged each mannerism, each vocal inflection, and after just a few weeks following that night at his house with his friends, you felt like you knew him quite well.

Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance as your eyes darted back to Buddy, who had stopped to sniff a tree.

You could feel Harry's gaze on you, but you tried not to squirm. His gaze pricked your skin, making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't have been feeling. It was uncomfortable and exhilarating, and you didn't like how much you were warming up to him.

Used to your wordless answers, Harry moved on. "You're making me rethink my decision to get a cat."

"You decided, then?"

"I think I'm more of cat person," Harry said. "Well that, and I think I've found the one, but I'm worried about all the traveling."

"It can stay with me," you said, eyes widening when you did. But it was true, you realized. You were close enough to Harry to promise that kind of thing.

"Well, in that case," Harry said, and you finally looked over to him.

His grin was wide as he looked down at you, and though you couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you knew they were more than likely squinted with mirth. You liked that smile, you realized. It was uninhibited, full of warmth and good intentions. You wanted to trust it, to give in to the friendship Harry was offering.

But you couldn't. Harry didn't deserve the abysmal companionship you offered in return, and you felt bad for leading him along when you knew you'd eventually fuck things up. You always did.

Your phone buzzing thankfully pulled you away from your thoughts. Looking at it, you saw a text from your brother, Hayden. You think Laura will be cool with a few football players in her house for Thanksgiving? it said, and you shook your head as you typed a quick reply, a small grin spreading across your face.

Hayden was only going to be in town the day of Thanksgiving, as he had a game the day after. You didn't think he would make it at all, seeing how full his schedule usually was, but he managed to squeeze it in. Apparently his game wasn't too far from Evan's house. As long as he, and his teammates now, didn't drink too much, they would be just fine.

You: I don't think so. Laura might put y'all to work around the house though.

Hayden: Seems fair.

Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?

Hayden: Because I can sit you next to one of my teammates.

Hayden: I take that back. Forget I said that. No teammate of mine is going near my sister.

Rolling your eyes, you stuffed your phone in your back pocket. Harry was looking at you with a curious gaze, and you scrambled to explain yourself. "My brother," you said. "Apparently he's inviting some of his football buddies to Thanksgiving this year."

"Does he play at university?" Harry asked. You could almost hear the eagerness in his voice at the opportunity to learn more about you, and while sharing in general made you squirm, your brothers were fairly easy to talk about.

"He did. He's in the NFL now."

"Oh nice You must be—Wait what's his name?"

"Hayden?"

Harry stopped walking for a moment. When you tried to stop too, Buddy protested, tugging the leash, and the wrist you had wrapped around it pulled uncomfortably. Murmuring a quick apology, Harry kept walking, keeping pace with your energetic puppy.

"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"

You nodded. "I'm guessing you've heard of him then?"

A bark of laughter slipped from Harry's lips. You'd never seen him so caught off guard before. It was strange, but also a relief to know that someone as steady as Harry wasn't so unflappable all the time.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he said, "I think everyone has heard of him. Any other famous brothers I should know about?"

"I don't know how you quantify fame, but my other brother is in the NHL. He plays for a team on the east coast."

Andrew was the youngest of your family. Despite that, he still considered himself your older brother, which had always been annoying growing up, especially when you were taller than him for a few years. He was rather sweet for someone so aggressive on the ice. He spent a lot of time with his mom, but was still close to you, Evan, and Hayden. It was hard not to be when you all shared the same deadbeat dad.

Outside of Evan, you probably talked to Andrew the most. You were the closest in age and grew up going to school together, and while his main focus was hockey, whenever he was in town, he'd go with you to concerts to see whatever indie band you were into or treat you to tickets to a show at the arena he played for.

"You have a third, right?" Harry asked, and you weren't even surprised that he remembered even though you were sure you'd only mentioned it once or twice.

"Evan. He's a lawyer in New York, but he lives in Connecticut with his wife and daughter," you said.

Now would be the perfect opportunity to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. You were looping back around on the trail, heading back to the park entrance where you'd met Harry this morning. Evan would pester you about it until you did, or worse, get Hayden and Andrew involved. You just had to throw it out there, be as casual as possible. Easy. You were all about being casual.

"So, um, he—Evan—he, um, said if I wanted I could invite a friend to Thanksgiving. If I wanted to."

"Oh yeah?" You weren't looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Swallowing thickly as you willed your cheeks not to flush, you continued to look at Buddy as you spoke. "You probably already have plans, but I just thought I would ask if you wanted to come. Laura, Evan's wife, is a great cook, and it's usually pretty low-key until football gets turned on. But no offensive aunts or uncles or anything like that. Just us."

That was definitely too many words, but the amused look in Harry's eyes didn't feel antagonizing. "I would love to, but um, I already promised my mum I would go home that week."

"Oh." You didn't mean to sound disappointed. It was a good thing that Harry was going home to see his mother. And him meeting your brothers for the first time all at once probably would've scared him out of talking to you in the studio, so really it was for the best. It was for the best. "That's okay. You must be excited to go home. How long has it been?"

"London? Not too long, but I'm headed back to Manchester, and my mum has not been shy in letting me know that it's been too long since..."

You listened to Harry the rest of the walk back, trying to fight off the disappointment gnawing inside you that he'd said no. You didn't want that feeling in you. You wanted to be indifferent. It's for the best. You repeated it over and over until you convinced yourself it was true.

*.*

"You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches. And I couldn't give a reason, Champagne problems."

You scribbled in your notebook, crossing out words from the original recording and replacing them with better ones. You hadn't planned to go back to this song. After recording it on your phone, you figured it wouldn't see the light of day again. But something kept bringing you back to it. So you worked on it between other projects, playing around with the lyrics and melody in small doses so that the past wouldn't overwhelm you.

Guilt seeped into your bones as you recalled what happened eighteen, almost nineteen, months ago. Sometimes you wished you could forget everything you'd done, but other times you decided being forced to remember was part of your penance for causing so much pain. Gavin was a good man. He was so kind and so smart, he didn't have a cruel bone in his body. And you'd taken his goodness, you'd welcomed all his kindness, and crushed it in your hands.

Wiping away a tear, you shut your notebook definitively. Your session in the studio was far from over, but you were done for the day.

On your way out, you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to see your watery eyes. You could feel the tears building, and you hoped you could at least make it to your car before you turned into a mess. It was so hard sometimes. Some days you felt great. You would write good songs, take Buddy for a walk and teach him a new trick, you would get coffee with Harry and laugh, and everything would be fine. But then there were days where the mere thought of the past sent you careening off course, leaving you with nothing but the intrusive thoughts you thought you'd learned how to keep at bay.

Today happened to be one of those days, and you hoped you could escape and wallow in self-pity unnoticed. But before you could even make it to the elevator, you bumped into something solid and warm. Arms wrapped around you to hold you steady before you could spring back, and against your better judgment, you looked up, an apology poised on your lips.

"Y/n, are you okay? What's wrong?"

You should've known that you would be unlucky enough to run into Harry on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head and stepped out of his grasp, though that didn't make you feel any better. "I'm fine."

"You can talk to me," Harry insisted. His brows furrowed with concern, but he didn't come any closer. There was a bag slung over his shoulder and a hat covering up his hair, with only a few stray curls sticking out beneath it. He looked like he was just going into the studio for a session.

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, not wanting to be the reason he was late for studio time. "I'm just leaving for the day."

You tried to step around Harry, but his hands fell down on your shoulders. His gaze burned, but you couldn't make yourself look him in the eye. You knew the moment you saw the sympathy swimming in them you'd burst into tears.

"Please let me go," you said, but it came out as more of a squeak, your voice breaking on the last word.

To your surprise, Harry did, and even though that was what you'd asked for, what you wanted, you somehow felt worse. Shuffling around him, you mumbled a quick goodbye and bypassed the elevator, not wanting to wait awkwardly for it to come up while he was still in the hall. It wasn't until you finally got in your car that you let everything out, all the guilt and loneliness and self-loathing that you kept bottled up regularly.

So often you were able to pretend the past didn't exist. But then there were days where you were almost slapped in the face by the consequences of your actions. Negative thoughts followed you all the way home and into your bed. Not even hiding under the covers kept you from feeling everything all at once. Your mind spun as you thought of Gavin, of his elated grin crumpling into a look of betrayal as you told him you were ending it.

You remembered every detail from that night. The brand of Champagne Gavin bought for the would-be occasion, the woodsy cologne he wore, the looks on his friends' and family's faces as you hurried down the stairs to leave the party, unable to bear their shame and disapproval, or the heart you'd broken on the landing in his family's mansion.

You didn't know he was going to propose until mere moments before it happened. You had only been seeing Gavin for a few months, and things were good. He made you happy, and you liked having someone to go through life with. He liked to shower you with expensive gifts, for no other reason than to show you he cared and because he could. You didn't have the same kind of wealth he or his family did, not even with the substantial amount of money you made as a successful songwriter. But you'd write him poems and leave them places you knew he'd find them and looped your arm through his at company parties. Things were good.

Every year, Gavin's family hosted a Christmas party, and last year was the first time you'd been invited. You hadn't wanted to go, mostly because in the two weeks leading up to the party, you realized you weren't in the same place Gavin was emotionally, and you weren't sure you ever would be. But Gavin insisted, promising it would be fun and he wouldn't abandon you to his family, who had been nothing but cold since the moment he'd introduced them to you. So you went, sipping on Champagne in a glass made of crystal and wondering if the guilty pit at the bottom of your stomach would ever stop growing.

It was a couple hours into the party when you'd stumbled on a conversation between Gavin's mother and sister, one that made your blood run cold with dread.

"Did Gav really ask you for your ring?" his sister asked.

His mother nodded gravely. "He wants to do it tonight."

"What? That's ridiculous! They've barely been together a year!"

"I'm sure she would make a lovely bride, she's beautiful, I'll give her that," his mother conceded, but you could hear the disdain in her voice loud and clear. "It's just a shame that she's—"

"Fucked in the head?"

"Larissa! Language!"

"What? She is! She's a total basket case, and everyone can see it but him. She'll never make him happy. How could she? Putting a ring on it doesn't change a thing. Gavin would have a psych patient, not a wife. He deserves better."

The rest of the night was a blur, but you knew you couldn't wait. You didn't want to break up with Gavin on the night of his family's Christmas party, but if he was going to propose, you couldn't let him. The hurt would be so much worse if you had to slide the ring off your finger a week or two after the proposal.

Gavin called you for weeks afterward, begging you to help him understand. His family did too, and his friends, people you considered friends as well, but it was clear once there was a line drawn in the sand where everyone stood, and they didn't have any trouble letting you know how horrible you were for doing what you did. Sometimes when you let yourself get angry, you wondered why Gavin's mother and sister, or any of them really, were so aggressive about your break up. They'd never wanted you to be with him in the first place, and even though they'd gotten their wish, they still called you a heartless monster.

But above all that, Gavin's messages made the deepest cut. He sounded so devastated in each voicemail. And at first, all he wanted was to talk, to somehow work it all out as if it was one big misunderstanding. I know my family can be a lot, but I love you so much, he'd said in a text. We can go to Italy like we'd planned. Elope. Buy a little cottage and just start a new life somewhere else. Please, Y/n. Talk to me. I love you.

Messages like those were the toughest pills to swallow. You knew Gavin loved you, you never doubted that for a moment. The problem was you didn't feel the same. You didn't know why. You cared for Gavin a lot, and in the beginning, you had all those giddy, initial relationship feelings, but they never developed beyond that. And when you noticed Gavin's feelings growing more and more each day while yours didn't, you started to panic.

But it was when those messages turned angry, hateful even, that hurt the most. It was what you deserved after what you'd done, but to know that you'd turned one of the gentlest souls you knew into a spiteful one killed you almost as much as stopping him from getting down on one knee had.

In the midst of all your crying and hyperventilating, your phone buzzed. Wiping your eyes and nose, you lifted your phone to your face, squinting at the bright light.

Harry S: I know you probably want space, but I'm here for you xx

You shouldn't be, was your first thought, but all you texted back was, Just a bad day that's all.

Harry's response was almost immediate, as if he was waiting around for your reply.

Harry S: Well, if you ever need a friend, you know where to find me :))

You sighed, feeling another wave of tears overwhelm you. The pressure of friendship weighed heavily on your chest. All you could offer was disappointment, and you couldn't stomach the thought of letting someone like Harry down. He was too good a person to be your friend. All you could offer him was disappointment and pain. You were toxic, and better off left alone.

You: We're not friends. I don't want to be your friend so just leave me alone.

*.*

Weeks went by and you were positively miserable. Thanksgiving came and went, and even your brothers could sense not to pry about your sour mood. Evan tried to get you alone, but you didn't want to talk. You didn't want to explain how you'd fucked things up so royally. Again. You didn't want his sympathy, or Hayden's promise to fight anyone who hurt you, or Andrew's cheesy jokes to lift your spirits. What you wanted had been all the way in England and had been giving you the cold shoulder. Just like you'd asked.

Harry stopped saying hi to you at the studio, which hurt more than you thought it would. In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't known him very long, but seeing him in the hallway and watching him purposely avoid you felt awful. You only had yourself to blame, but you thought it was better to let him down early on than further down the line. You couldn't have another Gavin situation on your hands.

But this felt entirely different. Even though you'd only spoken to Harry for a month, his absence from your life was more poignant than you expected it to be. When you ended things with Gavin, you felt guilty for hurting him, but ultimately, there was a sense of relief that you weren't leading him on, that crushing weight of his family's disapproval on your chest lifted. Breaking up with Gavin was hard, but it was the right thing to do for you, there was no doubt in your mind about that.

But this thing with Harry...you'd pushed him away when you were feeling vulnerable. A preemptive measure for the both of you, but there was no relief, no justifiable sense of rightness in your gut in the days following.

Part of you wanted to reach out to him and apologize, but you worried he hated you now and didn't know how to bridge the gap you created between the two of you.

Opportunity struck when you overheard a conversation between Harry and...Mitch. you were pretty sure that was Mitch from that night at Harry's house. It was about a week after you came back from your brother's house, and all three of them were constantly calling or texting despite their busy schedules. You wouldn't have put it past any of them to have set up times to routinely check in on you. It warmed your heart some, but nothing would feel right until you fixed things with Harry. Pushing him away had been a mistake, you saw that now. You'd done it in a moment when you were at your lowest, and that wasn't fair to either of you.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry said to Mitch. "I didn't even think to ask if you were allergic before adopting a cat. I feel like an idiot now."

So he went ahead with his plan to get a pet, then. The thought made you smile, but you held it in. You were pressed into the corner of the elevator up to the studio. Harry was definitely aware of your presence, but he hadn't acknowledged you. Mitch gave you an awkward wave, but that was somehow worse.

"No worries, man," Mitch said now, stepping out of the elevator with Harry. He was in a white t-shirt and a light brown cardigan today, his curly brown hair looking beautifully windswept. You refused to think about the current state of your hair, which was hiding beneath a blue baseball cap. "I'll just have to—"

You never found out what Mitch would have to do because they rounded a corner of the hallway, leaving you alone outside the elevator. Quickly scurrying into your usual studio, you sat down at the grand piano, letting the smooth keys cool your sweaty palms. You felt breathless, but it wasn't the usual anxiety-ridden breathlessness you were used to. This felt different, your heart speeding up at the thought of Harry's broad shoulders beneath his sweater.

"Pull yourself together, Y/n," you told yourself.

The damage was done—once again, at your hands, but you couldn't help that right this second. Right now you had work to do.

The next day, you did something you didn't normally do—venture outside of your studio. Since working in the building, you'd never thought to explore the other rooms, to introduce yourself or make friends the way Harry had with you. As you walked down the long hallway of closed and half-open doors, you wondered who was behind them, what kind of projects were being worked on right now.

Most importantly, you wanted to know which door Harry sat behind.

After a day of writing, of trying to lean into more positive feelings, the small hope you had for a brighter future. You left the studio feeling lighter after another introspective session. There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you, both of these things can be true, you'd written, forming your thoughts around a melody that was both somber and hopeful. That moment when you'd pushed Harry away was the lowest you'd felt in a while, but you didn't want to feel that way anymore. All Harry had been asking for was friendship. You could do friendship, in fact, you craved it.

So now you were trying to make things right with Harry, or at least apologize for your rude text. He'd only ever been incredibly kind to you, and you'd treated him like garbage.

You came across a door that was partially open, laughter filtering out and reaching you in the hallway. Harry's voice was mixed among them, and hearing him laugh filled you with butterflies. Going to his studio suddenly felt like a mistake. You didn't want to bring down his mood, especially if it would affect his writing for the day.

But you finally worked up the courage to knock on the open door. You'd already made it this far. The knock immediately sobered up everyone inside the studio, and you waited outside with your gift bag clutched in your hands. One of Harry's friends appeared, eyes widening when he saw you there.

"Y/n," he said. "It's good to see you."

You couldn't tell if he was pleased to see you or not, and nerves slowly began to creep in.

"I—I won't take up too much of your time, I know y'all are probably busy," you said. "I just, um, could you give this to Harry, please?"

You shoved the bag in the man's direction, forcing him to take it. "You can come in. He's just inside—"

"No, it's okay. I should probably get back to it. So, uh, see you."

You turned and fled, heat flooding your cheeks. Honestly, you were surprised you made it that far. You figured your courage would fizzle out before knocking on the studio door.

Settling back in your studio, you pulled out your journal and phone out of your bag, and opened up to a fresh page to work on a new song. On the way into work this morning, your agent pitched you an opportunity to write for an up-and-coming artist. "Something light, Y/n," she'd said, knowing you'd been writing mostly sad, break-up songs recently. "If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but at least try. You've always liked to challenge yourself."

So you were putting away the Champagne problems for now and channeling your happiest thoughts. You even brought your computer to stream romantic comedies while you worked for some additional inspiration.

You were halfway through When Harry met Sally when that inspiration finally struck. Lighter, happier words finally filled your journal, a rare, but not completely uncommon occurrence. You'd written love songs in the past, both before and while you were with Gavin. But surprisingly, Gavin wasn't who came to mind, nor was it the characters in the movie on your computer.

You thought of Harry's smile, his flushed cheeks after he'd had a couple drinks, his green eyes that seemed to sparkle when he laughed. Did you have a crush on him? You weren't entirely sure, maybe you just admired his goodness. And, okay fine, his unfair amount of good looks too. But you tried not to focus too long on who exactly inspired you, just on making sure the words kept flowing onto the page.

Perhaps you should've expected Harry to stop by, but you hadn't. His voice startled you, your eyes having been glued to the screen of your computer as the final scene of Roman Holiday played out in front of you. It had always been one of your favorites, and you decided that a brain break was needed as the final third of the film rolled around.

"What's this?"

No matter how many times you'd seen it, the ending never failed to bring tears to your eyes. Seeing the glisten of tears in Gregory Peck's eyes as he stared longingly at Audrey Hepburn's, knowing they loved each other but could never be together was heartbreaking. It had been the most tragic thing you'd ever experienced when you first watched it as a girl, and it hadn't even happened to you.

It was those tears now that you wiped away, a warmth creeping up your cheeks because this was the second time Harry had caught you crying. How embarrassing.

Looking up, you saw the gift bag in one hand, the other in his pocket as he stared at you blankly. No warmth or his usual smile, but he wasn't glaring at you, either. He just looked indifferent, and that didn't sit well with you at all.

"I...I overheard you and Mitch talking about your cat and his allergies, and I'd heard of this stuff that you can use on your pets to help people who are allergic to animals."

You'd gone out and bought it after leaving the studio the day you'd overheard the conversation between Mitch and Harry. It was your version of an olive branch, a way to express your guilt after taking Harry's friendship and throwing it in his face. You were his friend, and you wanted him to know it.

It probably seemed silly to hide behind a gift instead of saying something, considering your profession. But confrontation was almost as terrifying as love was, it was part of the reason why you only wrote songs and didn't perform them.

Harry scoffed, and it looked like he couldn't decide between laughing or rolling his eyes. "No, I know what this is, I'm asking why you gave it to me. Or not me, to my friend and then scurried back over here."

"I'm sorry about that, about everything," you said, shutting your laptop and shifting in your chair. "I was...I haven't been in the best place for some time now. It's not an excuse for how I treated you that day. You caught me in a bad moment and I lashed out."

"Thank you for apologizing," he said, his voice cool and even. You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. What he saw when he looked at you. "Do you want to grab coffee? Maybe we can talk?"

The thought of being open and honest in the way that he was suggesting was daunting, but Harry deserved your honesty. "Sure. Let me just pack up my things."

Harry waited for you by the door as you packed your bag, jotting a couple notes down in your journal before putting it away. Your hands shook a little as you approached him, excitement swelling in your belly despite the anxiety you felt at the prospect of having to talk about things you preferred to leave in the recesses of your mind. But it felt good to see Harry again, to walk beside him and head to your favorite coffee house.

Neither of you said anything on the short walk over, and even after you placed your orders, you remained quiet. When your name was called out alongside Harry's to grab your drinks, you knew it was time to find a table, but you stayed rooted to your spot in front of the counter.

It was Larissa. Gavin's sister. She was standing next to the other end of the counter where baristas called out and dropped off orders. There was a moment when she didn't see you, and you thought you could make a break for it, even if that meant leaving Harry high and dry. But even if you wanted to, you were frozen in place, and when Larissa's gaze finally landed on you, you felt her glare even from a short distance.

"Y/n?" Harry asked, both drinks in his hands. "What's—"

"Y/n! How good to see you!"

Larissa's kind smile was anything but. You'd never trusted Gavin's sister. From the moment you met her, you knew to be wary of her, and after everything that happened, you were sure nothing good was going to come out of this interaction.

"H—Hi, Larissa. How are you?" you said, trying your best not to look at Harry, who had a quizzical look on his face.

"Oh, I'm just fabulous. I've just spent the last year healing my brother's broken heart, which you broke like it was nothing," Larissa said. "He's great, by the way. Finally came to his senses and realized what a God-awful mess you were. He realized all of us were better off without you."

Then, before you could even make sense of what was happening, a rush of cold washed over you. At first, you thought it was merely a visceral reaction to the confrontation, but Harry's, "What the fuck?" made you think twice.

Looking down, you realized Larissa had poured her drink on your sweater. Shock left you blinking at Gavin's sister, tears welling in your eyes. With shaking hands, you held the ruined sweater in your hands, then back to Larissa. "Wh—Why—"

"That's for my brother, slut."

"That's enough," Harry said, voice harder and colder than you'd ever heard him before. Even when he was upset with you at the studio, he never sounded this angry. Gently gripping your elbow, he turned you around. You hardly noticed the flashing of cameras aimed in your direction. All you could really process was Larissa's smirk and the iced coffee dripping off you onto the coffee house's floor.

When you were finally outside and a block down the road, Harry pulled you down an alley where you could have a moment of privacy. He pulled his sweater over his head and offered it to you in a bundle. You quietly murmured your thanks and took it from him, slipping it over your head. The plain black sweater was warm and smelled like him—like laundry detergent and expensive cologne. It would've been the kind of thing to flood your senses if shame hadn't currently encompassed every fiber of your being.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you said when you felt like you could speak without your voice trembling.

"You don't have to apologize for what happened, Y/n," Harry said. He gently rested his hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

You couldn't look him in the eye, not while your iced coffee-ridden sweater was now ruining his, not while he kept looking at you with such pity. You could feel it down to your toes, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and never get out of bed. But Harry deserved an explanation. At the very least, he deserved to know who he associated himself with.

"I should explain—"

"You don't have to," Harry insisted.

"I want to," you said, believing the words as you said them. You weren't sure what you would've done if Harry hadn't been with you a few minutes ago. His brows were still furrowed with concern, his thumb rubbing circles into your shoulder. His sweater layered over yours created a pretty thick barrier, but you could feel his touch as if he was caressing your skin. "We can, um, we can go back to my place."

Thankfully, Harry didn't protest, just nodded quietly. The walk back to the studio was completely silent, leaving you alone with your thoughts until it was time to part ways. He got in his car and followed you home, silently following you up the steps to your apartment, a comfortable little one-bedroom twenty minutes from the studio.

Buddy was at the door when you unlocked it, tail wagging and tongue lolling to the side of his mouth happily. He greeted you first, then Harry, who he tried with all his might to knock over by getting up on his hind legs and resting on your guest. "Buddy! Down!" you hissed, frantically holding onto your dog's collar. Harry laughed and waived you off, surprising you by lifting Buddy up into his arms. Both boys were perfectly content, and the image of your friend holding your dog in your apartment was enough to lift your spirits the tiniest bit. A small smile crept onto your face, and Harry's grin widened when he saw it.

"Nice place," Harry commented, spinning around in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Thanks." Your apartment was small, but it was in a nice neighborhood and close to the beach. You made just enough in royalties to be comfortable in a little one bedroom. "Definitely different from my place in Nashville."

Harry nodded mildly before setting Buddy back down on the floor, admiring the colorful furniture that took up the space in your living room. Shivering a little, you looked down at yourself, reminded of your coffee-soaked clothes.

"There are treats in the pantry," you said, setting your things down on the kitchen counter and nodding to the pantry in question. "I'm just going to get changed so I can wash your sweater."

Harry nodded, but he seemed content to play with Buddy and look around your apartment, and your dog seemed perfectly happy to never walk on four legs ever again.

You tried to make quick work of changing, not wanting to keep Harry waiting too long. But you gave yourself a minute or two to calm down and process everything that had happened in the last hour. Even though it was horribly embarrassing, you were glad Harry had been there. He'd been a calming presence throughout, and you could only hope that would continue as you explained why you'd pushed him away.

*.*

"I...I didn't want to hurt you," you said, looking down at where your hands were knotted in your lap. "I just...I don't have a very good track record with relationships. Of any kind. I didn't want you to be one of the people I ruined."

Harry had been surprisingly quiet while you explained everything. And by everything, you meant everything. From Gavin to the Christmas party and what you'd heard to the would-be proposal. You told him about that song you'd written a couple weeks ago and how it brought all that emotion to the forefront of your memory and that it led you to push Harry away. He hadn't said much, asking you a few questions here and there; but for the most part, he let you speak uninterrupted, and you were surprised at how you continued to fill the silence, not once feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps a little ashamed after explaining how badly you'd hurt Gavin, but you never felt discomfort telling Harry any of it.

"Y/n, I—" Harry began to say before pausing. Looking up at him, you saw his brows furrowed, a look of consternation on his face. You waited for the blow, the one that eventually led him to leave you friendless once and for all. "I don't think you're a bad person for breaking up with him. I can't imagine that kind of hurt, sure, but if you didn't love him, you did the right thing. Do you—Do you seriously believe you're fucked in the head? Or that you ruin people?"

He was referencing the song you'd written, and you flushed bright red at the idea of him hearing more of the song than you would've liked. Shrugging, you gave him the truth. It didn't seem fit to lie when you'd bared your soul to him. "I don't know."

You could tell that answer didn't sit right with Harry. His frown deepened, and you desperately wanted to see him smile again. "Y/n, everyone makes mistakes in relationships, and even then I don't think you did anything wrong in that moment. Was it unfortunate timing? Maybe, but I don't think you should punish yourself for it anymore. In fact, I think what you did was brave."

"What?"

Smiling, Harry took your hand in his. It was warm, and his long fingers curled around your hand with ease. On any other day, you would've pulled back, but after sharing so much with him, this felt good. It felt right.

"I said what you did was brave," he said again. "You didn't love him, but you could've accepted the proposal and stayed with him. And then what? Leave him at the altar? Stay in a loveless marriage? It was hard, but you did the right thing for you and Gavin. I'm sure even he would come to understand that one day. Have you tried talking to him?"

You shook your head. "He hates me now."

"I don't think anyone could really hate you, Y/n," Harry said quietly, a blush crawling up his cheeks as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I know you might disagree, but I think you might feel a lot better about all of this if you talked to him."

"His family—"

"Fuck his family. Gavin is a grown man who can think for himself," Harry said. "If he can't separate their wrong opinions from his own thoughts, then he's an idiot who never deserved you anyway."

You laughed a little at the first half of what he said. It felt nice to know that someone was on your side. Squeezing Harry's hand, you said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for being a good friend when I maybe didn't deserve it. Evan's the only person I talked to about this, and even then I didn't explain everything," you said. Evan had been on your side, but it didn't really count to you. He was your brother. He had to be on your side. "I just don't have the best track record when it comes to hurting people, you know?"

Your eyes had fallen to your hand, which was still curled around his, but to your surprise, Harry's other one lifted your chin to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, you looked at him, heart beating a little wilder in your chest when you saw the look on his face. His expression was wide open, earnest and endearing, and filled with...something you weren't ready to see yet. But it filled you with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, you really believed that you didn't have to be alone.

"I don't think you'll hurt me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

His hand pushed a strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The movement made your breath hitch, lips parting as you tried to decide what Harry was going to do next, what you wanted him to do next. He seemed like he was waiting for something too, and his gaze was finally too much, like he could see your soul and was currently shuffling through every little thing you longed for and were afraid of. It was heavy with emotion, and you weren't ready for it.

"You should probably get going soon," you said, rising, with great difficulty, to your feet and putting some distance between yourself and Harry. A frown on Harry's face appeared, and you quickly explained yourself. "Your cat. You probably should head home and feed her."

Before you and Harry sat down to talk about...everything, he briefly mentioned his new kitten, Sweet Pea. "It was the name she already had when I adopted her, and it didn't feel right to change it, though sometimes she's not so sweet." She was a fluffy Ragdoll cat that was apparently quite the diva, and Harry proudly showed off picture after picture, claiming he was already in love with his new furry companion.

Now though, Harry's eyes widened as if he hadn't even thought about his new kitten since being here. "Right. Good call. I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded as you watched him gather his things. "I'll return the sweater tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

You walked Harry to the door to see him out. He crossed the threshold but paused before heading down to his car. You couldn't read the look that crossed his face, but his lingering gave you one last opportunity to take him all in. The muscles in his arms bulged beneath the white t-shirt he wore, and his hair had grown a tad longer since you'd spoken to him last, now curling around the nape of his neck and touching the collar of his shirt. Harry was taller than you, but not by much, though standing this close, it felt like he was a whole foot taller as you craned your neck to look at him.

Then, before you could ask if he'd forgotten something, he leaned forward. It took you a moment to realize what he'd done, but the lingering traces of heat on your forehead helped. He'd kissed you. On the forehead.

"See you tomorrow!"

Harry was gone in a flash, leaving you standing at the front door of your apartment with an open mouth as you tried to decide what his forehead kiss meant. To you, it felt sisterly, and you couldn't help the disappointment that swirled in your gut. You quickly pushed that feeling away, closing the door on whatever happened just then.

*.*

For the next few weeks, everything felt like it was back to normal. Better than normal, even. Despite the awkwardness you felt at having to see Harry after the odd forehead kiss, Harry acted like it never happened, which you were thankful for. You wouldn't have known what to say if he'd brought it up. Or tried to do it again.

But it became clear, despite the teeny tiny budding feelings you might have had for him, that he merely saw you as a friend. After your long talk with him at your apartment, Harry began showing you some of the work he'd been doing in his own studio down the hall from yours. It appeared he was getting over a break up too, though you never would've guessed by how cheerful he was most days. He still was, even as he explained a little about his most recent relationship, and you realized that while you hid your true emotions behind a wall, he might've been hiding behind his happy disposition. It made you want to dig deeper, to see what lay beneath all that "fineness."

As you spent more time with Harry, you also began hanging out with his friends. The first time you returned to his house for another game night, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see you, namely Sylvia. "I'm so glad you're spending more time with H," she'd said that night. "I love him to death but he's a clingy motherfucker when he's lonely."

That thought made you laugh. You recalled a conversation you'd had with Harry a while back when he'd said his friends were "disgustingly in love." He seemed like the kind of guy who loved love, but you also didn't want Sylvia, or any of his friends, to get the wrong idea.

"Oh I don't—I mean we're not—I don't think he sees me that way."

That wasn't how you wanted to explain yourself, seeing as you weren't even sure if you saw him that way. But Sylvia must have seen your flushed cheeks and understood your floundering because she smiled at you warmly.

"I think this calls for a girl's day. What do you think?"

"Oh. Um..." You didn't expect any of Harry's friends to want to hang out with you one on one, but you'd been leaning into trying new things lately. And girl's day? You grew up with three brothers, the last time you had anything resembling that was a tea party Hayden and Evan threw for you when you were six. "Sure. I could meet you for lunch this week if you'd like."

"Lunch sounds perfect."

A couple days passed until you had Buddy on his leash, walking down to the cafe you and Sylvia agreed on. You were a little nervous, but mostly excited. It had been a while since you'd hung out casually with a friend—you weren't counting Harry—and while you'd grown accustomed to the loneliness, you couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt nice to talk to someone other than your dog.

"Okay," Sylvia said once the waiter walked away with your orders. She'd held off asking about Harry, but now the time had come. "Hit me. What did Harold do?"

"Nothing," you said, perhaps a little too quickly. When Sylvia pinned you with a stare, you looked down at your glass of water. "He just...He gave me a kiss? On the forehead? And I don't know, it just read very...brotherly."

Sylvia sighed, which at the very least vindicated your feelings. It wasn't like you wanted anything more, but the whole thing left you feeling confused. A cheek kiss would've been easier to navigate, but the forehead? It left Y/n thinking about Harry more than she should've.

"Okay, I can see where you might be confused by that, but as someone with a brother, I can confidently say they don't do shit like that."

You weren't sure what you expected her to say, or what you even wanted her to say, but it wasn't that. Sylvia knew Harry fairly well, so it was safe to say that she was telling the truth, you just weren't ready to accept what she was implying.

"I do too, and I know the last thing I would expect from any of my brothers is a kiss on the forehead, but I don't know," you said, trying to remain as neutral as possible knowing Sylvia could report back to Harry. This whole thing was starting to feel very grade school-esque.

"Just know that Harry's a pretty open guy, but he's been burned in the past so he might be a little closed off or not be as inclined to make the first move," Sylvia said, though in some ways it sounded like a warning. "He's the greatest guy you'll ever meet, and whatever you decide, just be gentle, okay?"

It was hard to imagine someone as positive and happy as Harry having a dark past, but it sounded like there was a lot more than what met the eye as far as he was concerned. It was honestly a little comforting to know that he wasn't perfect. You were such a mess sometimes it seemed unfair that people wandered through life seemingly unscathed. You knew that was rarely ever the case, but sometimes it was hard to remember when guys like Harry walked around embracing life and had smiles for every occasion.

"I will," you promised, and you meant it. You were pretty sure nothing was going to happen between you and Harry, but you could appreciate Sylvia looking out for her friend. As nice as she had been to you so far, she was Harry's friend first. Her words made you wonder if you would ever have friends so fiercely loyal to you.

After that lunch with Sylvia, the weeks began to pass by in a blur. There were days when you saw Harry frequently, and then you wouldn't see him at all. He would show up at your studio to get coffee—at a new coffee shop, of course—you stopped by his to bring him and his friends baked goods, and sometimes you would end the night at one another's houses, a bottle of wine and takeout split between the two of you. You weren't dating, at least you wouldn't categorize whatever it was that you were doing as dating, but it felt nice to have someone in your life consistently again, and you liked that Harry was that person even more.

That didn't mean you couldn't read the signs. Sometimes Harry's gaze would linger when he thought you didn't notice, or he would sit a lot closer than was maybe necessary when you hung out with his friends. Sometimes his hand would brush yours as you watched a movie as if he wanted to hold it, and yours would brush back encourgingly, and then suddenly you were holding hands. To anyone else, it might have appeared confusing—in fact, Sylvia had vocalized her confusion over the non-relationship you and Harry were engaging in—but for you, not acknowledging what was happening and not putting any labels or definitions on this thing happening between the two of you was somehow easier to swallow. And since Harry seemed to be following your lead, he didn't say anything to object.

It was around Christmastime that things began to change. You'd spent your morning writing a song for an artist's Christmas album, a feat you'd managed to avoid in the past. But since you'd worked with the artist before and liked the vision she had for this album, you decided to at least try to write a holiday song. It wasn't necessarily that you disliked Christmas or the holidays, you were just indifferent to the season in question, and after everything that transpired two years ago now, you just never felt like celebrating much.

Harry Styles, however, was a huge fan of Christmas. his studio was decked out with lights and garlands, he got him and Sweet Pea matching sweaters, which you weren't entirely sure if he knitted or not, and he'd been bugging you since Thanksgiving to come over to decorate cookies. He'd finally worn you down and you were going over later tonight, but not before putting in a couple hours at the studio, which turned into sitting in on one of Harry's sessions.

It didn't happen often, but you did like seeing the team approach to writing songs as opposed to your usual solitary method. For the most part, you watched as Harry bounced ideas off his friends, observing as they focused on one chord progression or verse until something else stole their attention away. It was a bit chaotic, but everyone in the room seemed to be having fun.

It was in the middle of a heated debate between another fun, upbeat song or beginning to work on a ballad when the melody came to you. It was just piano chords, and had you been in your own studio, you would've immediately sat down to play it and see where it went. But this wasn't your studio, and it wasn't your session, and while you knew no one would've minded hearing your input, you felt nervous all of a sudden, self-conscious.

So instead, you pulled some blank sheet music out and began to scribble, writing as quickly as possible before the melody escaped you. The melody had taken up so much space in your head that everything else faded away. You envisioned arrangements, themes, a line or two sprouting as you wrote down the next note. Something sad and somber, the exact opposite of what Harry had been pushing for since he entered the studio.

"What am I now?" you wrote on the back of the sheet music. You didn't know how it would fit, but it would. You could tinker with the words later, so long as all your thoughts were written down somewhere, you would find a way to make it happen.

"What are you working on over there?"

Harry was suddenly at your side, and when he peeked over your shoulder, you didn't try to hide your frenzied notes. You handed them over, unsure if he even read sheet music. "It was just a thought I had. I can play it for you if you'd like?"

"Please," Harry said, gesturing to the piano in the corner of the room. It was then that you realized that everyone else had left the room at some point or another. At your questioning glance, Harry explained. "Ten minute break, but it felt like you were onto something...And I figured you'd be more willing to share if it wasn't in front of a group."

"Thank you," you said, those pesky butterflies swirling around in your stomach. They seemed to appear any time Harry so much as smiled at you. "It's just a melody, really, but maybe you can use it for something.

You sat down at the piano, eyes widening when Harry sat down beside you. Shaking it off, you focused on the piano, the keys cool and smooth to the touch, a familiar feeling that felt nice among such a different work setting. You explained your thought process to Harry a little bit, telling him the direction you hoped the song would go in and possible arrangements for it and whatnot. Harry, who apparently knew you better than you thought he did, nudged you with his elbow and encouraged you to play, knowing that you were stalling.

It wasn't that you were unsure of yourself or your talent. You knew you were good at what you did. You'd collaborated on multiple albums and worked with many well-known artists and bands, or artists who were just breaking out onto the scene and did so with the help of your songwriting. The difference here was that you normally didn't play an idea for anyone until it was fully realized. You typically sent over demos and typed up lyrics, and Harry would be one of the first to hear something that you'd only just come up with. Besides Buddy, but he didn't really count.

Taking a deep breath, you began to play, letting the chords you'd only just come up with pull your focus. After having played through it a couple times, you looked over at Harry, who had a faraway look in his eyes, an idea of his own forming in his head, perhaps.

"It's fairly simple, but I think that's what's rather beautiful about it," you said while still playing. "Sometimes you don't need much to get a response from someone, and I think a melody like this really allows an artist to shine, you know? Whether that's through their lyrics, or their vocal range, or both. And obviously it can be changed to a different key, this is just the one I wrote down, but...yeah, that's what I've got."

You finally stopped playing to hear Harry's opinion, though you wished you hadn't. Now your hands didn't really know what to do, and it took a lot of effort to keep them knotted together in your lap. Harry still looked pensive, as if he hadn't even heard your rambling, though now you were even more curious to know what he thought.

"Harry?"

Blinking, Harry turned toward you, his knee bumping against yours on the piano bench. His eyes cleared up as he remembered he wasn't alone in the studio. "Hm? Sorry, just thinking."

Offering him your pen and a fresh page in your journal, you said, "Did you maybe want to write it down?"

After that, you and Harry wrote hundreds of songs together. At least it felt like a hundred songs. Whether it was in the studio, or at each other's homes—mainly his because he had a home studio and a guest room for when sessions went too long—the two of you were almost always writing together. It wasn't always for his album, either. Sometimes Harry would help you with projects you were working on for other artists, or you would just write songs for the sake of writing them.

And it just worked. It felt like you and Harry just clicked. He was able to vocalize what you were trying to say to his producer, and you knew what he was thinking before he said it or the sound he was going for based off a couple descriptors. You'd never known someone so intimately before, or understood them so completely, Not even Gavin.

Harry was witty and smart and kind and genuine. He felt things deeply, and kept a lot of his darkest secrets and deepest insecurities incredibly close to his chest. You realized at some point that he was even more guarded than you in some ways. As you wrote together more and more, you obviously realized that there was more than met the eye when it came to your friend, but outside of songwriting, he wouldn't divulge much. He'd been through a breakup recently, that much you could tell, and while you wanted to know more, you respected his privacy and the desire to leave the past exactly where it was. Unless it came to the music, of course.

"So...you're what? Friends without all the benefits?" Sylvia asked you.

You met with her pretty regularly now for lunch during the week. Harry wasn't typically the topic of conversation, but on this occasion, Sylvia was giving you the third degree.

"We're co-workers. And friends," you added as an afterthought. Saying you were merely co-workers didn't seem right to you anymore, and you knew Harry would be upset if you thought otherwise. "I don't know what other benefits I would need outside of his companionship."

"Bull. Shit." Sylvia pinned you with a stare that made you blush. "Last weekend he had you practically sitting in his lap, and you're trying to tell me nothing's going on?"

"Not really. I don't think either of us are in a place to be in a relationship right now." It was the same line you fed to Andrew last week when you went to see one of his games. He thankfully bought it, or maybe he was just used to you keeping your love life to yourself, but Sylvia wasn't having it.

"What makes you say that?"

You shrugged. "I mean I'm definitely not, and I can just tell he's not there yet either. I mean, obviously, I've learned about his most recent relationship by working with him, but outside of that, he doesn't tell me anything. I don't even know her name."

You weren't offended that Harry didn't want to share about his ex. You wouldn't have told him about Gavin if you hadn't been put in that particular situation. But you understood better than most about that kind of pain. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe his feelings were getting all jumbled up between the past and the present. Or maybe he just didn't like you that way. The last theory hurt more than you cared to admit, but you were more scared of another potential relationship going up in flames than finding out the truth, so you decided ignorance really was bliss.

Sylvia nodded, understanding. You realized she must've known his ex, though you didn't ask for details. That was Harry's story to tell, not hers, and you were pretty sure Sylvia would say the same if you did ask. "I guess that's fair. But so, you're just...friends who kiss occasionally?"

You nearly choked on your sip of water. "What? No! Of course not. We don't—We—"

"Let me save you the struggle of coming up with an unconvincing lie," Sylvia said. "I've seen you."

"When?"

"Christmas party," she said, raising one finger as if she was about to list a few occurences.

"That was mistletoe. It was innocent," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, even though said hand was suddenly clammy.

"New Year's."

"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"

"At game night when he kissed your neck?"

"Why are you paying that close attention to my neck?"

"And," Slyvia said, pointedly ignoring your last remark. "I have it on good authority that Harry kissed you at the studio last week. Don't try to hide it, Y/n."

Sighing, you said, "So what's your point, exactly?"

"My point is that y'all are just pretending you're not in a relationship when you are!" she said, looking at you as if you had two heads. "Look, it's clear you've been through some shit and Harry has too, I won't deny that. But are you really going to put your happiness on the back burner because of it?"

Your cheeks burned at having been caught. It wasn't like you'd planned to kiss Harry any of those times. Each kiss came as a surprise, leaving you more and more breathless than the last and hopeful for another. What Sylvia didn't know was that you and Harry had kissed a lot more than the handful that she'd rattled off. Sometimes when it was late and you were over at his house working, he'd get this look in his eyes that would turn your whole body molten. He'd lean in close, nudge your nose with his, and then his lips were on yours and time suddenly didn't exist.

You liked kissing Harry. A lot. You liked the way his fingers gingerly held your jaw, you liked that kissing him gave you free rein to touch him wherever you wanted—his hair, his arms, beneath his shirt. Sometimes it felt like you couldn't get enough, but it always ended with one of you pulling away under the guise that it was getting late. Your lips would tingle long after, and you'd text Harry late at night when you should've been asleep, or he would call to talk about whatever he was thinking.

To anyone else, it wouldn't make sense, but it made sense to you and Harry. There was no pressure to be more, no urgency to define what you were doing, and that seemed to work for both of you.

"I'm perfectly happy right now," you said, and you were.

It had been a long time since you'd felt this content. Your breakup with Gavin left you feeling guilty and ashamed. And deep down, you knew you already felt more for Harry than you did for your ex, and that made you feel horrible too. Part of you still felt you were being greedy by trying to be this happy, that you should just take what you were given and try not to press your luck.

Sylvia took you by surprise by taking your hand. Her fingers were warm and reassuring, just as her eyes were when you finally met her gaze. It was safe to say now that she was your friend. She'd come over to your house multiple times for wine and movie nights, you went out to bars together, you'd met her partner, who was the absolute sweetest person on the planet. You valued Sylvia's friendship, and you valued her as a person. You didn't want to lose her if things with Harry progressed and fizzled out.

"It's okay to want more, Y/n," she said gently.

It was like she saw through all the bullshit and realized what you were really scared of. Harry was the only person who knew everything regarding your past relationship, but you told Sylvia bits and pieces. When you'd told her that you broke up with Gavin the night he wanted to propose, she didn't judge you, or ask why you'd throw away a perfectly good relationship. She was empathetic, and said she was sorry you had to go through that. It felt good to confide in someone who was willing to hear your side of the story, to have them realize if you could've loved Gavin the way he loved you, you would've.

"Maybe," you said. "But like I said, I'm not the only one who has shit to work through."

Sylvia nodded, letting the subject drop. But the words she'd said, It's okay to want more, needled at your brain the rest of the day.

*.*

"You should come with me."

You had been watching Sweet Pea doze contentedly on top of Buddy, who was curled in a ball on his dog bed. The two of them were an unlikely pair, but they'd gotten along great the first time they were introduced, and now you found it adorable any time they napped together.

Harry's voice was low and scratchy in your ear, as if he wasn't too far off from sleep himself. You were huddled together under a blanket on your couch, watching the credits roll on the second movie of the night, but you hadn't paid much attention to anything since the moment Harry pulled you to his chest and tucked his chin in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses as his thumbs rubbed circles beneath your shirt.

"What?" you asked, not having really heard him. It seemed impossible, but every day his touch became more and more dizzying.

"To Japan. You should come with me," he said. "It would be like a writing retreat."

Harry had mentioned his impromptu trip to Japan over dinner. He seemed excited about it, of getting out of town for a little while and just being alone with his thoughts. Those were his words, though now he was inviting you along.

"I don't even have a passport," you said, a non-answer, as Harry would call it.

"We'll get you one," he said. "Don't you think it would be fun to explore a new city together? Just the two of us?"

"W—What about Buddy?"

"Buddy can come to," Harry said, like it was all just so easy.

You thought back to your conversation with Sylvia a week ago. It's okay to want more, she'd said. At the time, you were content with this thing you and Harry were doing. It was simple and easy and pressure-free. A couple weeks later her words still nagged you. You hadn't mentioned wanting more to Harry, but this was different. This was...big. Appearing nonchalant didn't make it so.

"What are we?" you found yourself asking, hating how cliche the question was, even if you did need the answer all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but you knew he was too smart to not understand.

Still, you sat up and faced him, forcing him to sit on the other side of the couch to have a proper conversation. "I meant exactly what I said, H. What—What are we doing here exactly?"

Harry's face flushed, the muscles in his arm flexing as he rubbed his neck. "I...I don't know. I thought we were okay with not really defining it."

Not defining it, or not talking about it? you thought, even though that wasn't really fair. You were just as content not to ask as he was until now. Or a few weeks ago, you couldn't exactly tell when you began to want more, or when wanting more stopped scaring you.

"I know, but now you're asking me to drop everything and fly to Japan for...for how long exactly?"

Harry shrugged, and your jaw ticked. "A couple months?"

"A couple months," you repeated, trying to align your thoughts. All you could hear though was, It's okay to want more. Taking a deep breath, you said, "I think...I think if I'm going to follow someone across the world for a couple months, I would like a definition about what it is we're doing."

"It's a writing retreat, Y/n. We would be working on songs. Just like we've always done."

You weren't sure when you became the brave one. Perhaps it was your conversation with Sylvia bolstering your confidence, or maybe it was Harry's reluctance to acknowledge the situation at hand, you weren't sure, but his reply wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

"I'd have to find my own hotel," you said. "Or an apartment to rent I guess."

"You'd stay with me obviously," Harry said, and you had to resist the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he started seeing your perspective.

"Co-workers don't live together, H."

"But we're not just co-workers, Y/n. We're—"

Your brows raised, encouraging him to finish, but he ended up shaking his head. Running a tired hand over his face, he said, "I understand what you mean, but I can't...I can't give that to you right now."

You nodded, then stood up. "And I can't go to Japan without it."

It hurt, but at least he was being upfront about how he felt. It wasn't really fair of you to ask for more when both of you had been content to keep things simple. But somewhere down the line, you realized you liked Harry. A lot. You were okay with leaving your history with Gavin in the past, and you wanted to look to the future now. You'd thought that the future might include a relationship with Harry, but he wasn't ready, and you weren't sure if you wanted to wait. So much of the last two years had been waiting, hiding. Now you needed more. You craved it.

You felt like you were in some kind of alternate universe. One where Harry was scared and unsure of himself and unable to admit to what he wanted. You wanted more, and you weren't going to settle for anything less. You wanted to be more than his friend whom he kissed sometimes, you wanted to hear his scratchy voice as he woke up beside you, and you knew he did too, but something was holding him back. You'd spent too much time hiding from life and love to hide with him some more. Part of you wanted to, just because it was Harry, and you cared about him a lot, but a bigger part of you knew what you deserved, and it was okay to acknowledge that.

"I understand," he said, standing up with you.

Both of you were quiet as he gathered his things. You watched his broad shoulders shrug into his coat, the lean frame of his body bend down to put Sweet Pea in her little carrier. You felt the loss of him already, and he hadn't even gone yet, but you could feel the wall going up between the two of you. Both of you were guarded in your own ways, and both of you had been as vulnerable as you could be, but it wasn't enough.

"When are you planning on leaving?" you asked as you walked him to the door.

"Couple weeks," he said. "Just have to get the logistics figured out."

Nodding, you stepped into his offered embrace, letting yourself inhale the scent of his cologne and feel his arms around you for the last time for a while. His nose bumped yours in a move that was so familiar it made your heart squeeze. You weren't sure how long you stood like that, kissing until you couldn't breathe, it was only until Buddy's wet nose nudged the two of you apart that you finally stepped away from him. Harry bent down to scratch your dog's head and let him lick his cheek a few times before straightening back up. He was about to turn and leave when you called his name.

"I don't know what happened," you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "If you did something or if she did something to make you so...closed off, and from one heavily guarded person to another, I'm sorry that it happened and that it made you this way. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for in Japan."

Harry grinned, but it wasn't wide enough to show his dimples. Without saying a word, he left, head bent as he walked down the hall, taking a piece of you with him.

Buddy nudged your leg, pulling away from the hall Harry already disappeared down. Your dog's eyes were big and curious and completely unaware of what was wrong, which brought a watery smile to your face. "Come on, bubba. Let's get ready for bed."

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles album #fine line era #fine line album

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haylor-stuff · 26 days

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whitemancumslut · 2 years

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Grounded. (H.S)

Warnings!(18+), minors dni, Spit kink, Cum Eating, Tongue Fucking, Fingering, UNPROTECTED SEX (WRAP IT UP), Reader is on birth control, Oral *Fem and Male Received*, Mentions of male pubic hair, Breeding Kink, everyone in this story is 18 and older, Cockwarming, Pet Names (Angel, Angel baby, baby, etc…), demanding eye contact, filthy smut, not proof read idc, MY PRAISE KINK KINDA PEAKED A LIL, JUS A LIL🤏

“Fuck!” You groaned out.

Being grounded wasn’t the best thing in the world. In fact, it was the worst. While your best friends are out partying, you’re here, grounded.

Being eighteen years old in your house didn’t mean shit to your parents. As long as you were under their roof, rules applied the same as they did since you were born. Everyone thinks 18 is the year of freedom… but for you it’s the same as year 16.

You were grounded for coming at 4 am three nights ago. All they wanted was for you to respond to their text and reassurance you were okay. They assumed you were up to no good until you convinced them the party went on for longer than planned. You weren’t drunk or high but you did just have the best orgasms of your life so it was definitely worth the consequences.

But as you’re laying in your bed, unable to put your phone down, clicking through everyone’s Instagram stories, seeing they’re having so much fun.

You frowned.

Notification after notification came through of everyone posting videos of the party.

You didn’t like that they’re having fun without you. Knowing Harry’s probably drinking his life away while partying with friends without you being there to sit upon his lap and having him feel all over you. Fuck this sucked. You sighed loudly when you looked through everyone’s instagram story and you couldn’t see Harry in any of the photos. Not that you were being protective or obsessive… which you were. But you just wanted to see him.

This sucks .

knockknock

You almost gave yourself whiplash, flicking your head towards the sound. The way it sounded, it sounded like it was from your window.

You audibly gasped, furrowing your brows when you seen a large palm pressed against your window. Just by the rings pressing against the cold glass you knew it was Harry.

"What the fuck?!" You exclaimed.

You sprinted across the room and moved your curtain out the way to reveal a very out of breath Harry.

You pulled the window up by its edge, hearing his heavy breaths instantly. "Hey, angel," He’s panting like he’s been running from a fucking serial killer.

"Harry, what the fuck are you doing?" You hissed and he shrugged. Looking as if he was unsure of your outburst, widening his eyes.

"Can you uh- help me?" He gripped the edge of the sill awaiting your assistance. You couldn’t just push him away, you sighed and gripped his forearms and helped him crawl in.

You repeatedly looked back, squinting your eyes to see clearer, make sure the door was locked and there was no chance the door would open.

Harry falls through the window dramatically, his long legs swinging and knocking your perfume and lotions off the end table.

"Shit! Harry," you winced as you both froze making sure you didn’t alarm anyone in the house. "You can’t be here. No, you have to go," Your voice was low but the aggression was noticeable.

He stood up quickly, stumbling a bit getting himself steady.

"Harry, what are you doing here? I’m going to get in so much trouble," You groaned watching him get himself together.

He smirked looking up at you, "I can’t see my beautiful girl?" He questioned sarcastically moving forward so that he was directly in front of you.

He took in your appearance as you did him, your hair was pinned up with a hair claw, your cleavage wasn’t very discreet, practically falling his eyes down. His eyes rounded back up to yours and his smirk grew.

"No you can’t. I’m going to be killed if they see you in here. My dad would literally strangle you," You over exaggerated just a tad bit.

"Oh please, angel. Just wanted to see you. I couldn’t stand being at the party without you," He admitted sweetly making you fold into his arms instantly. His arms finally caught you in a sweet embrace, by instinct you wrapped your arms around his neck. You couldn’t help it, you were craving his touch right now. You couldn’t even argue.

"I hated seeing everyone boast about it on Insta," You scoffed making him grin at your attitude.

"It was pretty fun-"

"Don’t even," You warned making him smirk leaning down pressing a kiss to your lips. His lips held yours in between, you whined to his touch craving him, bad.

He pulled away making you wanting more, "I just wanted to see you," He admitted again sweetly. He unwrapped his arms from around you sitting on your bed and kicking off his shoes like he was making himself at home.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

"Getting comfy?"

You furrowed your brows very unsure if it was a smart idea for Harry to get so comfortable. You sit next to him on your bed and lay back on the soft mattress. Harry rested his upper body on his elbow looking down at you.

"You didn’t have to ditch the party to come see me, you know?" Harry let his arm cross of your body and rest across your stomach.

"I know. But I wanted to," His voice wasn’t as low as it was a moment ago, he took it up two notches. It was still deep, accent hefty with a sweet gentle tone. His hair fell to the side and it made you smile how his hair grew longer and longer each day and the curls looking more and more perfect.

"Don’t get me wrong, it was ah-may-zing," He broke down the word making you playfully hurt his arm with a little force added.

"Ow," He said sarcastically, not showing any hurt over your action. Harry began getting up to hover over you. You smirked when you see his eyes are now glistening with something they weren’t when he crawled in.

Shadowing your slightly smaller figure, he bent down pressing his lips to your neck. By instinct, you tilted your head giving him more access to work with. His tongue swept across wetting that spoke before he sucked on that same spot on your neck. His teeth grazed you softly, earning a moan escape your mouth.

You were not going to be able to do this without waking up your parents.

"Harry-"

“I promise I won’t make any noise. That’s a promise you need to make for yourself, baby."

Harry continued leaving wet kisses down your neck and to your collarbone, careful to not leave dark bruises. You sigh, back arching when he laid his hand on your lower thigh to feel you swarm beneath him, hand flying to grip his thick hair at the roots. You looked down at him his curls tilting to the side as he pressed his kisses. "Fuck, H."

You needed this.

Stuck in this house for days… craving his physical touch. You need this.

Harry looked up at you and let his free hand lead up your body and to your breast. Giving your large boob a rough squeeze before sneaking his palm under your bra and tank top. His palm resting on your bare boob, pinching at your nipple while his other hand worked your lower half.

Wrapped your legs around his torso and your hands cupping the base of his neck where his vein was. Harry looked up at you and sighing when he sees your boobs pressing up against your chest now that you were laying down they looked undeniable.

Looking down at his plumped pink lips going down to attack your cleavage. Now that you were looking at what he was doing the kissing noise was loud and clear. Your back falls back against the bed making him quickly feel up on you again. Running his large palm on your tummy as he disconnects from your flesh and looks up at you, "Keep quiet for me," He whispered to you.

You nodded obediently.

You pulled your legs from around his torso as he continued making marks on your rib cage.

Throwing your head back, a moan getting stuck in your throat. You whimpered at the sudden halt that occurred in Harry’s actions. Alarmed, you picked your head up and looked at Harry to see him glaring at you sternly. "Keep your eyes on me," He demanded.

Once again, you obeyed, you sat yourself up on your elbows to see him tugging down your pajamas and sitting them on the floor below. "You’re soaked," He smirked.

He attacks your lips, kissing you heavily, his cock now full on hard. "You need to be silent," He whispers. You let out a wimper holding the top of his head and gently urging him to finally reach where you needed him most.

"I’m getting there, baby."

You whined like a child not getting what they want.

Still didn’t stop you until he finally began to tug on your underwear.

Harry sucked sucking on your inner thigh, "Love your thick thighs so much, pretty."

You continued to do as told and keep your eye contact. His eyes left yours for a second to see where he was guiding himself but you made sure to watch his every move.

Harry finally met your pelvis and smirked up at you. "If only you can see how wet you’re right now, angel baby."

Your inside clenched and you swarmed to the sweet nickname.

"Let’s go to get these off, angel."

You watched him slide the underwear off and Harry hissed when he saw your dripping pussy. Throwing the fabric down on the floor he adjusted himself so that he was directly between your thighs.

You watched deeply as Harry stared right back at you. You wouldn’t dare to look away. His green eyes piercing into yours, as he lowered his head between your thighs, still not breaking contact. Harry swallowed down getting a bit of spit up and letting it spill from his mouth and on to your vagina.

You hissed when his warm saliva began to drip down your folds. "Fuck, look at you angel. I’m so lucky, aren’t I?"

You looked down and Harry slid his middle find up your slit rubbing his spit where it rolled, seeing more of your moist pussy.

You continue whine, trying to move closer to his face so he’ll finally go in depth.

Harry used one of his hands to pull back the hood of your clit, "Looking delicious, baby. Fuck," He growled lowly before taking his tongue and pushing it against your sensitive nub. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You groaned squeezing your eyes shut.

Harry wrapped his lips around your clit sucking ever so lightly and using his tongue as leverage to hear your moans crawl back down your throat as you began to grind your hip up to his face. His tongue did circles are your sensitive, repeatedly. You through your head back whimpering before shooting your head back up to watch him make out with your clitoris.

His tongue pressed pressure against your aching nub. "Please," Your voice was shaken, wanting more and more.

Harry pulled away from your now, swollen clit, making you completely distraught, "Eyes." He orders again, "On me."

You nodded, eager for him to continue. Gripping the bedsheets, unable to keep a hold on his hair before you cause it to rip out.

You took one of your hands and use your middle and index finger to travel down to your pussy that was practically calling Harry’s name. Spreading your lips apart, Harry glared up at you and your action. "Please, baby please. Want your tongue again please," You begged as quietly as you can.

You bit your bottom lip. Harry brought his face closer to your heat, his eyes never leaving yours unless it was to blink. Your pussy met with Harry’s tongue licking a broad strip up your slit making you immediately twitch. "Oh my- g-god," Your toes curled and thigh muscles tightened.

He then slapped his palm against your thigh two times telling you to be quiet. He pulled your legs up on his shoulders to get you both comfortable. His tongue pushed its way into your tight clenched hole, curling as soon it was in and as much as it can in such space. Collecting your juices on his tongue, his lips placed kisses on the outside of your opening.

His tongue went out and in of you and you were losing it. "Fuck, fucking shit. Oh my, fucking-" You took your arm and placed it between your lips, moaning into it.

Harry chuckled watching you as he made love to your pussy. Harry’s middle finger trailed from your butt crack and to the hole his tongue was occupying. Not letting you feel empty, he slipped his tongue out making you give a slight gasp that was swapped with a moan. "Oh my god!" You moaned not in a scream nor a whisper but no enough to alarm.

Harry used his index and middle finger and shoved them inside your pussy feeling your wet walls clench.

Harry never promised to keep eye contact with you, he demanded yours stay on him. So when he looked away and saw the way your cunt was dripping you still didn’t look away. Your head fell to the side when you couldn’t take it as much but you continue to let his tongue and fingers fucked you before he did.

Pumping in and out of you, his fingers paused and curled inside you. Tears brimmed your eyes, "Oh my fucking- oh my, fuck. Harry, H, baby."

The sound of your wetness making a squishy sound making him more determined.

His fingers curled and uncurled repeatedly, faster and faster making you swarm. Harry’s fingers hit your g-spot making your tears finally escape their barricade.

Harry watched as your release was building up, “Oh shit, you feel so good around my fingers. Clenching and shit," He smirked looking back at you breaking the eye contact. Harry pressed a gentle peck to the hood of your clit making you shiver.

He moved his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion feel the softness of your walls. Your hole enlighten and becoming soft for him. His action quickened, urging you to come for him, "Come on, angel. Cum all around my fingers. I wanna taste you, angel," The more he spoke the faster your breathing rhythm got.

Your tummy began to ache as your muscles clenched feeling your release wave in.

"H-Harry," You cried out. "Shush, shush. I know, cum for me, baby." Your thigh muscles tighten and your legs tremble as you feel yourself release with Harry fingers slowly coming out of you so you can release on his fingertips. Your grinding against his fingers slowed down as you experienced your high.

Harry smirked bringing his fingers up to your view. Your head was throw back against the pillow that rested above your head unable to catch your breath fast enough.

"Look, baby."

You looked. Your cum dripping on his fingers and he caught what was about to dripped in his mouth. "Mmh, taste even better than you did two nights ago," He joked causing you to breath out a laugh. "Taste yourself, baby."

He brought his fingers to your lips and you obliged, wrapping your lips around his fingers and your tongue under his finger pads. Sucking your cum over his fingers, letting his fingers fall out of your mouth. You grinned, "Mmh," You hummed.

He brought himself down to you pressing a kiss to your lips. Letting your cum be what your combining together, his tongue shoved its way in your mouth playing around to get yours tangeled with his.

You took his shirt in your palms and gripped it, "C-cock, please?"

"S’that what you want, angel?"

You hummed and nodded. "Yes please. I really want your cock, please," You pleaded. You have just calmed from your high, for sure cum got on your bed.

"Since you asked so nicely. Such a good girl f’me. All the time," He mumbled pressing a long kiss to your lips as he began tugging down the pants. Pulling them off and disconnecting the kiss to get his legs out, his briefs did his cock no justice. His long shaft rest against the top of his thigh, probably touch his tattoo.

You were eager to get the underwear off. Sitting up as best as you can you reached your hand up to assist him.

You slowly pulled his underwear down cause you both knew you loved watching his cock spring up and slap against his stomach. Which it just did, your smile grew looking up at him, imposing a blowjob.

"Can I?"

"Who am I to oppose, angel?" He watched you set yourself up on your knees and set back on your heels. His hand petted your head like a dog and so softly.

You wasted no time wrapping your fingers around his hard. You looked down at it and let your other hand trace the prominent vein. Rubbing his precum on his tip, Harry hissed keeping his hand on the back of your head. Pecking his tip, you licked over his slit every so lightly.

"Oh f-fuc-" Harry was cut off by your fingers on his balls and your lips around his cock. His heavyweight resting on the top of your tongue and you slid down on his cock until he touch the back of youre throat. "Oh fuck my pretty girl," He caressed your head as you rubbed his balls between his fingers sliding his cock in and out of your mouth.

"Fuck- Keep doing that i’m going to cum down youre throat. And I wanna’ save that for when i’m inside that pussy of yours."

You nodded understanding his mission and continued to suck him off. Your head bobbing down as you took him all the way. Sucking until the denting in your cheeks being more consistent and prominent. Your nose touching his pelvis and his little hairs and looking up at him. Harry threw his head back letting go of the back of your and groaning lowly.

"Holy fucking shit, god fuck! That feels so good, baby. Fuck shit," He panted quietly, bringing his hand from one side of your head to swing your hair to the other.

"Fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous, angel. My angel, fucking fuck."

Some tears pouring down your check and others stinging your eyes begging to be released. You popped him out of your mouth jerking his cock up against your mouth to take him again. Licking a broad strip from his balls to his tip making him twitch.

"Fucking shit, angel. Oh my-"

Harry takes your hair and grips them gently pulling you back from his cock. Earning a soft ‘pop’ noise to come from the depart.

Spit dripping down your chin wanting more and more. "You want my cock buried in your pretty fun now sweetheart? You have no idea how good that felt but I wanna feel you clench around me," He told you. His voice rough and husky, low enough so you could hear him.

You hummed a submissive yes laying back in your previous position ready for him to bury his cock inside you.

Harry could tell he wasn’t going to last long due to how long he let the blowie go on for.

Harry’s cock was still hard and aligned with your hole. You watched him slide himself in and both of your heads being thrown back.

Harry’s sensitive since he’s so close to his orgasm. Eager to fuck you, Harry spreads your thighs and thrusts further into you.

"Fucking shit, H, oh my fucking," You whimper holding your arm between your lips once again. His balls slapped against your bottom as he hit your g-spot multiple times.

Bucking your hips against his your breath was heavy. "Pretty girl," He groaned out watching your tits bounce up and down. The tank top and bra you wore didnt support as much when he was smashing himself into you. He had a firm grip on your waist. Your legs spread out so he had enough room.

"You have no idea how close I am, angel," Harry quickens his pace lifting your right leg up until your foot rested on his right shoulder.

You shot your hips up at the new position that caused him to hit a different spot in you. "Oh my fuck," Your second orgasm of the night builds up as Harry’s first is around the corner, prepared to meet with yours.

"Harry, right there, right fucking there," You grunted and moaned quietly. You grinder your hips against his as he kept slamming his cock into yours. Your walls clenched around his cock as they did his fingers moments ago.

"Fuck, clenching around my cock feels sooo good, baby."

You were in for it when Harry took his hand holding your leg and used it to press its thumb against the hood of your clit. "Oh-Fuck, shit, sh-fuck!" You winced quietly.

You panted and nodded eagerly, as you looked up and saw he was squeezing his eyes shut.

He was there.

"Cum inside me, H. Please, fuck," You begged.

"Want me to cum inside you, Angel?" You didn’t know how could still tease you more and more with his release just at the top.

"Yes fuck please, cum in me please."

Harry slowed his thrusting down bending over you and resting one of his hands above your head and the other on your body.

"Cumming right now, angel," He breathed out in your ear.

———

tried to copy one of my drafts from the previous acc🙏

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harryseightynine · 2 years

Text

harry outfits in 2019 is everything, missing that time

#harry styles #random thoughts #now he only wears that blue jacket #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #missing fine line era #it was peaceful and good

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shawnxstyles · 2 years

Text

addicted in the afterglow

DATE: OCTOBER 11, 2022

summary: you and harry despise one another, but have close mutual friends. at your friends’ party, the two of you get into an argument. when harry’s contradictions shock you, you consider if you’ve become addicted in the afterglow.

request: yes!

song: Afterglow- driver era!! (fucking love this song)

words: 4.6k

warnings: SMUT BITCHES (f- receiving [choking, rubbing, fingering, a little nipple play, mild edging] m- receiving [slight hair pulling, scratching] protected sex, dirty talk!!), language, loads of dialogue as always

note: part 2 is here!

frat/college!harry x college!reader

—

There were a lot of things in the world that you liked. Loved, even. Some of those things being your family (most of them), your dog back at home, your school, and your friends. You were grateful for so many things and tried your best to appreciate them. Your friends would say you’re one of the most kind-hearted and modest people they’ve ever met. Your friends meaning Sabrina (Rina), Raquel, and Rina’s twin brother Sean. You were probably most appreciative of them and for encountering them in your life. However, when they decided to bring other people into your little circle, you second-guessed their decision.

At first, you felt slightly offended like maybe you weren’t a good enough friend to each of them. But that changed the second Sean brought one of his friends to one of your “Hang Out and Hangover”s. Hang Out and Hangovers are kind of in its name; you all hang out after a long week of lectures and drink at someone’s place. The next day usually results in headaches and strong coffee, so that’s why it has to be somewhat planned out. You’re not really the impulsive type, as your friends would say.

But when it comes to Harry, the newest addition to your used-to-be perfect circle, you become everything your friends say you aren’t.

Harry is… appealing. He has this chestnut hair that spring curls naturally but he covers them with a hat. An annoyingly sharp jawline that he’d probably cut you with if he got the chance. He’s every girls’ dream height at a solid 6’0. He has the persona of a stereotypical frat boy, yet he still gets any girl he wants (but you would never, ever admit that to him).

You could stand him from a distance. Well, you could have. Past tense.

The day you actually talked to him shocked you, even though it shouldn’t have. Why wouldn’t the semi-popular frat boy be a dick? Why wouldn’t he be so arrogant? Why wouldn’t he flat-tire the back of your shoe? Or make sure the elevator was closed before you got on it? Or switch the song on the aux just because it was your favorite song? Anyone else could do the same things, but for some reason when he did it, it felt personal and on-purpose.

He joked around constantly with Rina and Raquel, and yes, they would agree-to-disagree occasionally, but he never had full-blown arguments with them like he did with you.

On one Friday night when you all decided to get together, you didn’t know Harry would be coming. Your friends knew you didn’t “fancy” him or whatever they said, but tried their best to make you two civil. But he didn’t know you would be there, either.

Which makes no sense because it was at your house.

“Oh great, he’s here. When were you guys going to break the news? Attention, attention, the biggest dickhead on the planet just walked through my living room,” You dramatically pretended to act shocked and put your hand on your heart. He closed the door behind him and rolled his eyes.

“It’s always a pleasure to be with you, truly. And for the record, I didn’t know you would be here, either.”

“It’s my apartment!!”

“Ohhh, I thought it was Raquel’s place. Now the horrible interior design makes more sense,” He says so sarcastically and mockingly, you wished you could wax his tongue off. You step closer to him, slowly closing in on him.

“Please! I bet my place looks ten times better than yours! Oh wait, you don’t even have your own place,” You sass back, crossing your arms. You’re pretty sure he just moved in with Sean and Rina.

“Having roommates means cheaper expenses. And I get to hang out with my friends. Work smarter, not harder, babe,” Harry taunts and it drives you cynical. Your friends just stand there awkwardly while you shout at him and he acts nonchalant. You’re nearly chest to chest with pointed fingers when the ding of the doorbell shuts you both up.

“Here,” Raquel said, annoyed while chucking the bag of food in between us. “I got some food. Maybe you two will finally shut up.”

You hadn’t even noticed Raquel left to get take-out, but how would you with Harry practically spitting his minty gum in your face?

The rest of the night was quiet to everyone else, but between you and Harry, it was loud. You would give him a snarky look every time he happened to look at you and he would stick his tongue out mockingly. It was like children fighting on a playground with you two; immature and useless. Similar scenarios went on for months. But after a while, your friends just decided to leave themselves out of it.

The only reason why Harry is even in your mind right now is because Rina is trying her very best to convince you that ”he’s not that bad”. You’ve heard the same story for months.

“Y/N, he’s really not that bad,” You almost laughed because she’s just so predictable when it comes to this situation. “I know he can be a little… into himself—”

“A little? That is the most conceited man I’ve ever met! Or should I say boy?” You shake your head as you look in the mirror. You comb through your hair softly, even though you’re frustrated about Harry. You can’t take out your fury for Harry on your luscious hair.

“You can’t expect him not to go. It’s Sean and I’s birthday for crying out loud. We’re not just going to have two different parties because you two are big babies who can’t stand a night together,” Rina falls onto her back, laying on her bed. “and he kind of lives there now.”

“Just kick him out for the night. Or forever!” You turn to Rina and act like you just invented something unheard of.

“You know what?” She lifts herself from the bed and heads toward the mirror. “we don’t need to focus on him tonight. You know that one guy from Literature class? He’s gonna be there.”

Your eyebrow perks up as you glance at Rina in the mirror. She nods up and down in confirmation until you’re both squealing like little girls. You haven’t been on a date in what? A year? Your recent hook-ups have been kind of lousy, too. And Rina is right, you need to not focus on Harry tonight, and just be free-spirited. And who knows, maybe something will happen with that guy from your lecture.

—

When you first got to college, you didn’t like the idea of partying. You had been to a few in high school and it just wasn’t your thing. But you realized that the problem was that you weren’t with the right people. Now every time a party opportunity approaches, it’s hard to say no.

Raquel said she was going to be late to the party, so when you and Rina had finished getting ready, you set up the party as best you could. There was a table with snacks on them and another with drinks. However, the good drinks were under the counter. You knew those would be pulled out later in the night.

Their house was relatively small for three people, but being in college with a house isn’t easy. But it made decorating fast. There was a large banner across a window and some balloons tied to the stairs. Although it’s their birthday, it wasn’t really a birthday type of party. But people should at least know what’s being celebrated. Speaking of people, you had no idea who was going to show up besides that guy from your Literature class. Since it’s Sabrina and Sean’s friends, it’s probably going to be a pretty packed house tonight.

The party was planned to start at around eight and was already packed by nine. You didn’t even really know that you knew this many people until they said what’s up or heyyy as you passed them. It wasn’t until around ten, though, when you saw the real life of the party waltzing into the room.

Of course he’s late to a party at his own house. He’s just too cool for that.

Harry would smirk and half wave at girls as he walked by them. He’d fist bump his “homies” and laugh ridiculous loud for no reason. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and attempt to avoid gazing at him at all costs. Even if you found him the most annoying man boy in the world, you couldn’t deny the fact that everything he did was unbelievably hot (when his mouth was closed).

He had this confidence that was cocky, but his charm would hide it. The way he would lick his lips in the middle of a conversation distracts you far more than it should. His hand around a red solo cup along with a solid silver ring on his middle finger looks so natural— why did you wish his hands were somewhere else, though?

On you, maybe?

Your wild thoughts are disrupted just by the man who’d caused them. Harry comes up behind you as you’re refilling a bowl with chips.

“You look like you’re having a great time, really,” Harry shouts with his iconic sarcasm that you just love oh, so much.

“The best!” Your own sarcasm pops out. You weren’t having the worst time, you’re just a bit bored.

“Why don’t you go and dance with me? I know you got some moves,” He gets closer to you and you can feel his breath on your ear. Your breathing hitches in your throat for a moment before responding.

“I’ll pass—” You barely got to finish your sentence when you felt a light tap on your opposite shoulder. Nate, the guy from that lecture class, was standing next to you. Your eyes grew wide in a panic.

“Hey, I just wanted to know if maybe you wanted to dance..?” He looks at you, before noticing Harry, and then has the same, wide eyes as you. “Um nevermind, sorry.”

“W-what…” Your shoulders drop in disappointment and confusion as he walks away. You didn’t want to chase him because maybe he found the actual person he was looking for. Plus, chasing isn’t attractive, right? You turn to your right, forgetting Harry’s presence. You look at him for a single second and see… something in his eyes. He plays it nonchalant like he didn’t do a single thing.

“What did you do? What did you say to him?!” You shouted over the loud voices and booming music.

“What? I did nothing. He looked at me and got scared,” He shrugs off defensively with raised eyebrows. Harry takes another sip of his drink, and your growing frustration got to you, so you slapped it out of his hand. There was maybe a drop in the cup, not much left. His eyebrows raised again, but he didn’t even flinch. He knows that he’s ticking you off. You stomp away up the stairs because you needed to cool off. You are acting immature right now, but goodness, he brings out the worst in you.

The party didn’t halt nor notice your little incident with Harry and you were grateful. Harry makes his way upstairs soon later, honestly concerned for you. He knows he upset you, but he doesn’t know that you also kind of upset him. He catches you right as you’re walking into the bathroom.

“Y/N—”

“What, Harry? What do you want?” You pull your arm away from him and eye him irritatingly. You were looking at him directly and could see him thinking. The cogs in his head were spinning and you were impatient.

“Were you really going to dance with that bloke?” Is the first thing that came out of his mouth.

God, he’s such an idiot.

“Oh my God, of course you came all the way up here just to tick me off more.” You pushed him by his chest, but he grabbed your wrists, stilling you. Your breath hitches again slightly, like it did earlier. You mentally refuse to let him affect you, so you brush it off. You look up at him as you both stand in the doorway of the bathroom. He quickly checks behind him before shoving you two into the tiny room.

“God, you make me so mad,” He says through clenched teeth. He pushes you against the counter and you forget how to breathe.

Lungs? What are those? Air? Oxygen? What…?

However, you get your senses back. A little bit, and shake your head.

“I make you mad? Are you joking? You’re the one that scares off the first guy that seemed genuine!”

“Pfft, that bloke just wants to get in your pants—”

“Oh what, and you don’t? God, you just think you’re so much better—” One of Harry’s hands releases your wrist and latches onto your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but you halt your rant and then you actually forget how to breathe. Harry holds both of your wrists with one hand while the other puts little to no pressure on your throat. Harry drifts even closer to you now.

“You never know when to stop talking, huh?” He taunts you while slightly nudging your head up. You instinctively roll your eyes because that’s just what he makes you do. Everything he says is just worth an eye roll. But he doesn’t like that. Every time he sees you roll your eyes, he just wants to… fuck. He doesn’t know. But he did know it got under his skin every time and he just wanted to make you shut up. He adds more pressure to your neck as a note that he doesn’t like that.

“You always roll your eyes at me. Am I really that annoying?” He teased, while rubbing your chin with his other hand. He runs over your bottom lip slowly enough so that he can see all of your bottom teeth. When he releases it, it bounces back and you bite it nervously.

“Yes,” You choke out, still being choked by him. You can feel your wit and smart-ass remarks getting to him by the amount of pressure under his fingertips. His head tilts closer toward your ear and you’re sure he can hear your racing heart.

“You just never learn do you?”

“What’s there to learn? You’re the world’s greatest dick—” He pushes your legs apart and lets go of your neck, with that, you naturally sit up straighter. Your heart beats intensely as you wait for him to do something since he likes to interrupt you so much.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to teach you then,” He kisses down your neck softly, teasingly so. The tender kisses contradicts the kinky act of choking, which still wasn’t enough for you. You wish you could just push him off of you and be fine, but you were pulled to him. Your body yearned him the second that he touched you. You wanted more, but you hated begging. But you had a feeling he loved it. Right above your collarbone, he bites and sucks, making you gasp as you bite your lip. His tongue glides across your skin so effortlessly and his teeth sink on one of your pressure points and you nearly moan out. You can feel the beat of the music from downstairs throughout the whole bathroom. Suddenly, he releases himself completely from you and rests his hands beside you on the counter. You thought he was going to leave you high and dry, so you shouted.

“You’re such a fucking tease! God, I was right, you are a dick,” A fire was burning inside of you both that was fueled by frustration and lust. You were ready to get up and leave, but you didn’t want to. He doesn’t even think twice before smashing his lips onto yours and locking the door to the bathroom while doing so.

The kiss was not pretty; your teeth were clashing and your lips were squished. Your lip gloss was all over him now and his tongue gladly roamed your mouth. He hummed against you, loving your taste. You smelt of orange juice and vodka, while Harry smelled like minty beer. A shock struck between your lips, which ignited something in you. Your hands rested on the baby hairs on the back of his neck, which you used to pull him closer to you. He lifted you onto the counter, temporarily breaking you two apart.

You both discard your shirts, throwing them behind him. His chiseled torso shocked you every time you saw it. You always tried to act like it didn’t affect you, but he was a walking turn-on. His tan skin was littered in creative tattoos, and you instantly rubbed on his angel wings. He steps closer to you, moving his hips toward you.

“I like these, but they don’t fit you. You’re more of a devil type,” You sass, looking at him with a sarcastic smile and a lip bite. Harry reaches behind you while giving you a quick are you sure? look before proceeding to unclip your bra first try.

“Don’t get so cocky, we all know who’s in control here,” He smiles sadistically at you, and your little smile fades. You clench your thighs together, but he pulls them apart again. His hands are warm and rough on your legs. He runs them up and down, until he’s just rubbing the insides.

“Harry, we don’t have all night! If you’re going to fuck me, just do it!” You whisper-yelled. You didn’t want to beg, but God, were you getting desperate. This is the nearest you’ll get to begging. Especially for him.

“Aw, is the princess getting impatient?” He mocks, thumbs edging towards your aching cunt. You despised these thick jean shorts you were wearing right now because every time you moved at all, you would feel a light friction on your clit. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off, so you needed Harry to just rip them from you already. Maybe it was your turn to tick him off…

“I bet Nate would give it to me. He’s probably good, too. Oh, can you imagine how big he probably is?” That caused Harry to make an animalistic sound that nearly shredded the rest of your clothes right there. Before you knew it, your shorts were gone and your underwear was being stuffed into your mouth.

“Not much of a talker now, yeah?” Harry smirks. You could taste your own arousal, which turned you on even more. He grabs your wrists in one hand, stopping you from touching anything.

“You’re so infuriating. Talking about other men while I have you spread open for me. I can see you dripping all over the counter,” He rubs you achingly slow, right on your throbbing clit. He increases his rhythm, giving you more pleasure. But you needed more. “tell me it’s for me.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he has a praise kink. That makes his mountain size ego make sense. He stops rubbing you and you nearly whine as he removes the underwear from your mouth, dropping it beside you. You’re so desperate and so frustratingly needy, you nearly want to beg.

“And if I don't?” You breathe out, staring at him right in the eyes. His eyes are strong and you almost back down. He puts his free hand on your breast, pinching and twisting the bud. You arch slightly into his touch.

“Then it’s going to be a long night, isn’t it, princess?” You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek. His hands still hold your wrists as he drifts back down to your clit. Harry rubs you quickly, waiting for your response.

“Tell me Y/N. Who made you this wet?” Harry can hear your juices spreading around as he rubs you. When you don’t immediately answer, he flicks you and you jump. You bite your lip, adding a few seconds before you give in. The need to come continues to increase as you withhold your pleas “speak, or I’ll stop.”

“You!” You couldn’t help it— you gave into him. The rough pads of his fingers and his irritatingly attractive words were making you crazy. If he stopped, your body would never forgive you. Before your eyes tightly close, you see Harry arrogantly smirk.

“That’s it, baby. Say my name. Go on,” Harry inserts rapid fingers in you, curling them oh, so good. Your arousal was slushing in and out quickly, along with his fingers. He edged you enough and you were about to come fast.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Harry!” You whine out his name as you reach your peak. Seconds before you release, his fingers are removed from inside of you. Your climax dangles in your stomach, forgotten.

Your irritation from earlier becomes even more vehement now. You were about to slam Harry’s head into the door, before his loud mouth speaks.

“You can come around my cock,” He basically growls as he vastly unbuckles his belt and unzips his strangled jeans. He slides down his boxers and you can’t deny that he’s pretty big. You feel more arousal leak out of you just looking at it. You nearly roll your eyes again when you see him pull out a condom from his jeans.

Of course, he brought condoms to a party. Why are you letting him fuck you again?

Because he’s just so… ugh. You don’t know the word.

Feeling dazed, you feel Harry rubs himself on you for a few seconds before slamming into you without warning. You try your best not to scream out, for the sake of the party, but also for Harry’s ego. You gasp loudly, as he goes in and out roughly.

He cannot know how much you actually enjoy this.

Your hands wrap around his neck naturally, scratching crescent moons on the sides. His moves are fast, yet deep, making you clench around him hard. When Harry finally moans in your ear, you don’t stop the strong reciprocating one that leaves yours.

That must mean he likes it too.

Harry growls, attaching his lips to your neck, probably to quiet his sounds. When you begin to reach your climax again, your legs get tense. You bite your lip to near bleeding so you don’t alert the whole party.

“God, Harry,” You groan out, clutching his hair with your right hand. You can tell you’re both close because everything is messier; you’re about to fall off of the counter, Harry’s strokes are sloppier, and your grip is everywhere.

You’ve both been dying for release.

“Come, Y/N,” He wasn’t asking; it was a command. Somehow, his assertiveness brought you over the edge and you finally came. Hard. The sensation was such a relief, you loudly moaned without caring who could hear. Harry groans by your ear as he releases into the condom, moving slowly in and out. You rub your clit to calm your body and breathing. You hadn’t realized how deprived you were until the weight of your sexual rut was gone.

Once you come to realize what actually happened, you blink and instantly grab your underwear. Harry had already been pulling up his jeans by then.

“You,” You grit out. Your breathing wasn’t completely calm and was definitely wavering as you zipped up your jean shorts. “are not allowed to tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Me? Why would I ever do such a thing?” He says innocently, followed by a devilish smirk. His shirt falls over his head and covers his sculpted abs.

You hate to think about it, but those abs will be missed.

“I’m serious. If anyone, especially one of our friends finds out, I will personally kill you. I will torture you until you can’t take it anymore,” You successfully clip your bra and arrange your shirt correctly. You look in the semi-foggy mirror as you attempt to tame your hair.

“Sounds kinky. But don’t worry, princess, no one’s gonna find out how I made you beg for me,” Harry stands behind you, looking at you through the mirror. Your eyes widen at his words and you turn around.

“Harry!”

“Yeah, it sounded just like that—”

“I fucking swear to—” A knock interrupted both of you. Sudden panic rushed through your body as your mouth became dry. Harry eyed you with a finger over his lips. You stay silent, listening to him, as the stranger soon walks away. You release a breath you didn’t know you were restricting.

“See? That is why we can’t do this. That was too close. I’m leaving and we’re never speaking of this again,” You slowly open the door and peek near the area. When you fully exit, you try to act as relaxed as possible.

You feel flushed and flustered, but that can easily be mistaken for alcohol or dancing. You walk down the stairs and into the kitchen because you need another drink. Maybe seven because you’re feeling a bit too sober after what just happened.

Rina suddenly comes behind you, startlingly you.

“Where have you been, girl?! I haven’t seen you all night!” She shouts over the booming speakers and loud people. Your gut wrenches suddenly in guilt, feeling the weight of being a liar.

“I was dancing with Nate,” The lie flew through your mouth and you bit your cheek. Your clench your solo cup in your hand. He probably left a while ago because of what happened earlier. You wouldn’t blame him.

You’ve never been a good liar. Clearly. But maybe it was easier to lie to a drunk person…

“Ooo, I’m so drunk right now! Did you know that Raquel heard two people fucking in the bathroom? She thinks it was Harry, and I wouldn’t be surprised. Oh, this is my song!” The song changes to Rina’s favorite dance track, which causes her to slip away back into the crowd of dancing drunks. As she drifts away, that gut wrenching feeling becomes more intense when you take in what she just said.

Raquel heard you in the bathroom. Oh fuck. She doesn’t know it was you and Harry though. Hopefully, she is extremely drunk too and doesn’t remember a lick of tonight.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but that sex with Harry was really good. It wasn’t like the typical sex you have. It wasn’t intimate and loving, or soft and sweet. It was rough and fast, and you really liked it. You’re kind of left in a state of shock because you know it won’t ever happen again.

He had control over you. And even though it was Harry out of all people, there was some type of passion beneath it all that just aroused you so much. Stuff like that is what gets people addicted. And you couldn’t be… addicted to Harry.

You knew everything was now messed up, yet a part of you was satisfied and relieved.

It was one time. You can’t be addicted.

—

YAY! thanks for reading 🤭

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hstylestuff · 4 months

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like or reblog if you save

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missmielyhoran · 1 year

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Imagine dating Harry during the Fine Line era and then having to listen to Cherry lmao can you write something like that? Pleaseee

I feel like I would have laughed tbh💀

Here you go...it's a short one

Warning- just fluff, bit of sad and insecure Y/N, I feel like I have written many sad shit lmao

*****

You were lying beside Harry on the studio floor. The carpet gave you a rug burn, but you could make sacrifice for your boy.

You were listening to his album with him. Both of you had one of the earphones connected to the phone playing songs, which would be out in 2 weeks. Lights up had just ended, and you were convinced it would be up in your top 3 with golden when soft guitar started playing.

Don't you call him baby...

You knew none of the songs were about you, but somehow, you knew this one might hurt you. Songs were a view inside Harry, how he feels, who he is, those lyrics are him being vulnerable and just like his songs, he's wonderful, a dreamy, a playful melody.

I just miss your accent and your friends...

It was very early in your relationship, and although you were convinced you were about to fall in love with him, you still had your insecurities. All of your friends warned you about him, and sometimes you would get inside your head and overthink his every action.

He never met your friends but he missed hers. She had beautiful french accent you don't, she's a model, beautiful, tall and has a amazing dressing sense which you call see Harry took inspiration from meanwhile you go out anywhere in joggers, most you do it wear jeans.

You were so different than her and you couldn't help but compare. Why would he date someone so...less than her unless you were just a moving part. A rebound from his last relationship, which was very much serious, what if your friends were right and he's still in love with her?

You didn't even realize the song had ended when you heard a woman's laugh, laugh, and then her beautiful accent. You were starting to get irritated cause why does she have to be so perfect?

It was a voicemail obviously left by her for him. The ceiling turned blurry as your eyes watered, you were feeling insecure, and didn't know if you should tell Harry or not. What if he thinks you're a whiny or a cry baby?

"Baby?" Suddenly, the ceiling was replaced by your boyfriend's beautiful face and his mop of curly hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked concerned, his eyes searching all over your face for any hint.

"Nothing it's just sad song" you fake laughed and whiped off your tears but Harry didn't buy it. He gave you a bored look and raised his eyebrows wanting the truth in answer.

You sighed and looked away from him to the space between you and him, "It's stupid" You mumbled.

He lifted your chin with his index finger and gave you a stern look, "Nothing is stupid when it comes to you and you wouldn't be crying if it was. Now chop chop tell me" He asked rolling over with you so now you very laying on his chest.

"Do-" You bit down on your lips and looked away again and started to pick on your cuticle, "Do you still have feelings for her?" You asked and then panicked, "Just- I mean, you started dating me so soon, and your relationship seemed so serious with her-"

"Oh sweetheart," Harry cooed and chuckled. He pulled you into him more, and you digged your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his smell and feeling comforted by it.

"Yes, my relationship with her was serious, but that doesn't mean you're anything less or just a rebound." He assured you, removing the hair that was fanned against the side of your face.

"I know it's too early to say this, but I knew the moment I saw you in that park sitting alone reading your book that you were the one." He kissed your head and snuggled more. You smiled against his neck and gave him a kiss, the mark from your lip gloss sitting there.

You had your doubts and thoughts, your anxiety always making worse out of things, but you also had Harry to shoo them away and protect you, give you a good cuddle whenever cold thoughts surrounded you.

*****

Thank you for requesting! you can request more or just talk to me here♡

Please Like, Comment and Reblog! Ily❤️

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #fine line harry styles #fine line era #angst harry #harry fluff

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shi-hall · 1 year

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I’ll paint my mood in shades of blue.

Harry Styles aesthetic

#harry's house album #harry styles #harrystyles x reader #harold styles #one direction #1d imagines #fine line era #harry’s house

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stellesappho · 1 year

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you gotta see it to believe it, sky never looked so blue so hard to leave it, that's what i always do so i keep thinking back to a time under the canyon moon

#did this piece for the harry styles zine back in october!#the concept was to illustrate all of the songs and i chose my beloved canyon moon #it holds such happy memories for me #my art #hs art #hlcreators #trackinghome #harry styles art #tracksintheam #hltracks #stylesnews #canyon moon #fine line era

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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

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Still the One Part 2

Summary: Y/N and Harry spend the day in the hotel, reminiscing on the stuff that they did and didn't get to do prior to y/n leaving.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, some fluff, oral, fingering, hair pulling, shower sex, general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

I roll over and let out a sigh.

"Good morning." Harry whispers as he tucks hair behind my ear, "How'd you sleep?"

I open my eyes and smile, "Great actually, you?"

He smiles and leans over and kisses my head, "I kept waking up to make sure this wasn't all just a dream and that you were still here."

"I'm still here." I reach out and gently trace his tattoos on his arm, "I don't think I can leave you again."

He turns his head and nods, "I don't think I could handle it now." He looks back at me, "Since I'm not a dumb kid anymore."

I nod and his words get me thinking, "Oh my gosh, Harry."

He stands up and walks over to get coffee, "What?" He pours two cups and walks back over.

"Do you remember.." I take the cup, "Thank you." He sits back down and covers up.

"Do you remember that time we went to that music store?" I smile and sip my coffee, watching as he thinks back.

A smile grows on his face, "The pink guitar."

"The pink guitar." I smile, "I remember telling you I wanted to learn how to play so you tried to teach me right then and there, but I just couldn't take you serious with the guitar from Barbie's dream house." I laugh and shake my head, "I still never learned how to play."

"We'll have to change that." He smiles and tilts his head back, "What about the time where we were walking, I forget to where, but that bird flew down at you." His shuts his eyes as he laughs, "I thought you were going to have a heart attack."

I lean over and hit his chest gently, "Stop it! I can't go to the beach without being afraid of those damn birds." We laugh and I snap my fingers and point, "Oh!"

"Oh gosh." He smiles and watches me talk, "Did your mom ever find out about you reading Fifty Shades?"

He shrugs, "Probably." He laughs, "Actually, I don't know, she never said anything to me."

I shake my head and lean against the headboard, "Our video chats for the first few months." I let out a sigh, "They were so much fun."

He nods and smiles, "And I wore that ridiculous Santa hat that you mailed to me." He rolls his eyes and smirks, "I still have it."

"You do?"

He nods, "Of course I do."

I smile, "I, Um. I still have that paper you mailed to me. The one where you drew two hearts with arrows and put our initials in them."

He shakes his head and smiles, "I can't believe it's been so long. I can't believe I found you." He sets his cup down and turns towards me, "I wish I found you sooner."

I set my cup down and move closer to him, "I know. But.. we found each other now, and no one is taking me away from you this time."

I lean up and gently kiss his lips. He smiles, "I'll put up a fight this time."

After talking for a while about the memories we have together from the first time we were together, I lay a hand on his cheek and slowly run it through his hair.

He closes his eyes and I study his face, engraving all the new details into my brain.

"You know.." he keeps his eyes closed.

"What, Harry?" I whisper smiling slightly.

"We talked about the stuff we did, but what about the stuff we didn't do?" He opens his eyes and gives me a smirk.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

He lays an arm over my hips and moves closer to me, "Oh you know." His hand slides down my naked thigh, "the concerts.." his hand slips between my legs and I moan lowly as he circles my clit, "The movies.."

I close my eyes and nod, "Mm, you're r-right."

He leans in and kisses me as his fingers slide up and down between my folds, "Fuck you're so wet." He whispers lowly.

I grab his neck and moan into his mouth as he slips two fingers in. He kisses down my neck slowly, "I want to fuck you so bad."

I gasp at his words and turn my head to face him, "Please Harry."

"I will, I'm just enjoying every single inch of your body against mine. It's been too long." He kisses over my shoulder, "I can't get enough of you."

He pulls his fingers out and looks at me, "Want to try something new?"

I tilt my head, "What?"

He rolls onto his back and pushes his boxers down, "Sit on my face facing-" he points forward the door, "That way."

I sit up, the blankets fall down to reveal my still naked body from last night, "Okay." I smirk picking up what he's saying.

He moves around and gets comfortable, "You know what I mean?" He smirks at me. I nod and position myself over his face, "I know exactly what you me-"

I gasp as Harry sinks his tongue into me. His hands reach up and grab my hips, pulling me down on him more.

I let out a loud moan and slowly lean forward, "Fuck." I moan before I take his cock in my hand. I moan as I start to suck on the tip, slowly working my way down.

He moans against me as I moan on him. I move my hips down slightly as I can feel myself coming to orgasm, "Fuck." I pop off and moan, "Shit."

I take his cock between my lips and my eyes roll back as a tingle of pleasure rolls through my body.

I bob my head up and down, my saliva making squelching noises as I use him to fuck my mouth.

He pulls his head away and lets out a loud moan, "Fuck, fuck." His finger tips dig into my skin and I feel his cum shoot down my throat.

He moans as I slowly pull off of him and I roll off, "How was that?" I ask with a smile.

"Really, really fucking good, y/n." His chest is rising and falling quickly. I lay a hand on his leg, "I'm going to go for a shower so.." I get up and take a few steps away from the bed before I turn around. His eyes are still on me, "Feel free to join me."

He sits up and smiles, "I'll be there in a few." He winks and I walk into the bathroom. I tuen the hot water on and wait for it to get hot before stepping in.

I let the water run down over me and I can hear Harry walk in.

"Knock knock." Harry says sliding the shower door open, "Can I come in?" He asks as he steps in. I laugh and pull him to me. His arms go around me and he smiles, "Hi."

I smile, "Hi."

He leans in and kisses me before leaning back, "Young Harry wouldn't believe this."

"That we found each other again?" I laugh slightly. He smiles, "I was going to say that we're naked in the shower with our dream girl, but that works, too ."

I shake my head, "No, you're right. Young y/n would be embarrassed by the thought of this. So I guess we did grow up."

He smiles and leans down to kiss me again, "I love you."

I wrap my arms around his waist, "I love you."

He drags his hand up and down my back as we stand under the hot water.

"Uh oh." I look up at him, "Someone is ready for round two."

Harry chuckles, "Only if you are, love."

I nod, "Oh yeah." He pushes my back against the shower wall and we start to make out.

He turns me around and grips my hips. I rest my head against the wall as he rubs my pussy with his cock.

I tilt my head back as he slides in, my moans sounding louder and more powerful as they bounce off the shower walls.

"Fuck." He groans as he slowly starts to thrust.

I push my hips back more, moaning with each of his thrusts, "Harry."

"You sound so beautiful." He moans gripping my hips tighter, "I love it."

His thrust get harder and he grunts, "y/n, fuck." I moan and slide my hands down the wall, "H-Harry." He pulls out and spins me around. He lifts my one leg up and holds the outside of my thigh.

He slips back in and his other hand grabs my ass, "You're so beautiful." He smiles before he closes his eyes and moans.

I bite my lip and watch him in awe as his face twitches with pleasure. I dig my nails into his shoulder and moan as my eyes roll back.

My lips part and I let out a gasp as I can feel myself getting closer, "I'm gonna cum." I pant, "Fuck."

He nods and kisses me with passion. His finger tips press into my thigh as he fucks me to my orgasm, "Fuck fuck." I arch my back off the wall and clench around him, "Harry." I whisper almost breathless.

He continues to thrust then pulls out, pumping his cock into the stream of water as he still holds my leg up.

I lay my head back and close my eyes. He gently sets my leg down and places his hands on my hips, "If it gets to be too much, we can always just chill out for a little while."

I shake my head, "I'm good. We have a lot of catching up to do, my love."

He smiles and wraps his arms around me, "That we do."

——

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louissrightasscheek · 1 year

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#larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #larry fanart #walls era #hs fine line #power couple

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cinemastyles-blog · 1 year

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Loved You First

Summary: This was a request by: roryknoelle on Wattpad - "Could you do a friends to lovers smut with y/n and Harry, where Harry keeps seeing her date someone else, gets jealous and finally confesses. Also could you make it as dirty as possible lmao"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, semi forced actions, unprotected sex, oral(both), fingering, semi masterbation, alcohol use, F I L T H

Master

Fine Line Harry