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#harry styles husband
finelinevogue · 9 months
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when in rome
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summary - just a few random clips from a holiday to rome
word count - +3k
pairing - husband!harry x reader
a/n - can’t lie… this could literally be set anywhere and there’s no real plot, but i hope yous enjoy it all the same <33
at the airport
“Hey, give me that.”
Harry holds out his hand for you to pass over the suitcase to him, claiming that he should be the one to pull it not you.
You were originally going to have two suitcases, but it turns out that neither of you were packing heavy and so one suitcase it was.
“I’m not incapable.” You sigh.
“I’m not saying that. I would just feel better if y’let me pull it.” Harry plucks your fingers off the handle one by one, distracting you with a kiss as he does so to make it easier for himself, before claiming the suitcase for himself.
“I’m not gonna argue with you at this time in the morning.” You give him another sigh.
You walk behind Harry as he directs you from the Uber to the terminal door.
It is holiday time and you and Harry have decided on a getaway to Italy, Rome. One of the most romantic cities in Europe and famous for its history and pizza.
Harry decided that you would fly Economy, rather than taking the jet, because it was more practical for a bunch of different reasons that you didn’t really understand.
Hence why you are grumpy now.
You had to get up at 2AM, to get and Uber and be through security before your flight leaves at 7:30AM.
Clad in one of Harry’s oversized hoodies and gym shorts, your legs are cold, your eyes are heavy from tiredness and your body aches from the run Harry made you go on yesterday.
You rub your eye free of sleep and accidentally bump into Harry as he’s stopped.
Harry is wearing a similar hoodie to you, because he couldn’t wear his favourite one due to lending it to you, running shorts and of course a pair of sunglasses and a hat.
“Sorry. After you.” Harry politely lets an old couple pass, which is why you were stopped short.
He turns around to you to make sure you’re okay and smiles when he sees you unattractively yawn. You look like a small kitten who has just been awoken.
“There better be a coffee shop somewhere in here.” You say as you walk through the doors.
The airport is already busy with hundreds of people buzzing to get out of this dreary country and into hotter destinations.
“Also, I love your fans, but I swear to God if one of them approaches us this morning…” You say.
Harry chuckles, “Yeah? What will you do, love hmm?”
“Turn into the Hulk.”
“I feel sorry for them already.” Harry smiles and you hit him in his arm as a joking reply.
You stand together in a snaking queue to check in and then to get through security, until you’ve made it to the other side successfully. Also, without anyone publicly exclaiming that Harry is here.
You hold Harry’s hand as you walk next to each other out of security.
“Y’wanna get coffee first? Or find somewhere to sit?” Harry asks you, hoping you’re listening but he can’t tell because your hood is up.
“Dunno.” You say indecisively, beyond tired.
“Let’s go find somewhere and then I’ll go get us coffees, yeah? You can just sit and look pretty.” He squeezes your hand.
“No. I wanna stay with you.” You wrap your other hand around his forearm and hold him close, pressing your face against his arm also.
“Okay, okay. Well let’s go this way then.”
Harry directs you to the coffee bar and you both stand in another queue as you wait to order.
“Y’want your usual?” Harry asks and you nod.
When Harry’s called over, he makes sure to bring you with him and scans the bakery section one more time.
“Hi honey! What can I get for you?” The woman behind the counter asks.
“Morning. Hi. Um, can we have one croissant, one pain au chocolat, one black coffee and one latte with a shot of caramel please. Thank you.”
As Harry pays on your shared bank card, you thank him with a small voice.
“Thank you.” You hug into his arm more.
“It’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head. He wants to kiss your lips, but he also wants to remain as PG as possible in such a public space just in case someone is secretly filming.
After you’ve collected your order, you go and find a table to sit at. You find a small booth that overlooks the runway, so you can watch the planes take off. Harry knows it’s one of your favourite things to do in an airport, so he chose this spot on purpose.
You make small talk as you eat, both of you sat on the same side of the booth so that you can lean on Harry to rest once you’ve finished.
You talk about the planes taking off and your potential itinerary for the next couple of days. Harry just listens to your rambles as he finishes your pastry too, because you couldn’t finish it.
“Can I sleep on you on the plane?” You ask.
“‘Course y’can, baby. Think we have a window seat and a middle seat.”
“Can I sit by the window?”
“Yeah. You can lean on my shoulder if y’want.”
“Please. Thank you.”
“Anything for you, love, you know that.” He kisses your forehead again.
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checking in
You get out of the Uber first.
It is already so humid here in Rome and it’s just gone midday.
Your hotel is right in the centre of Rome, just a few streets over from the Trevi Fountain and then a few more streets over from the Gucci store too.
Harry made sure to book somewhere that would be accessible to the majority of everything. Money wasn’t an issue. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you it Harry even booked the most expensive hotel in Rome.
The porter greets you and takes your suitcase for you. Harry tops the driver and thanks him with the Italian he’s been learning.
Harry takes your hand as you walk inside, thankful for the air conditioning in the building.
“Buonjiorno.” The man behind the desk greets you.
“Buonjiorno.” Harry replies. “We’re here to check in?”
You were a little early but decided you would try to check in anyways.
“Of course. Name, please?”
“Styles.”
“Both of you?”
“Yes.” Harry can’t help but smirk as he speaks. You nudge him, because you feel the same way.
“I have… Uh, Y/N Styles and Harry Styles?”
“Sí.” Harry nods.
“For 4 nights?”
“Sí.”
“Okay.” The man shuffles around some papers and types some things on the computer. “So your room number is 406. This is the fourth floor. You can take the lift up, which is just over there. Breakfast is included, which will be on the terrace between 7 and 10.”
“Amazing.” You smile for what feels like the first time since landing.
You’ve been so tired that you have found it hard to keep your eyes open and pretend like you’re alive.
“The pool is on the roof and will be open 7AM until midnight. The gym facilities are open all the time. Room service is three euros per call. These are your key cards and we hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Grazie.”
“Grazie.” You and Harry both thank the man and make your way over to the lift.
A few minutes later and Harry is opening your hotel room door.
You step inside and immediately fall in love. It’s decorated with marble floors and high ceilings with gorgeous artwork - probably that inspired of the Sistine Chapel.
The bed is a large queen size bed with lots of pillows and comforters. There’s a long chair at the foot of the bed and a sofa just across from that.
The most captivating thing about the room is the three sets of french doors, which all open onto a small balcony. There’s sheer curtains draped over the ceiling length doors, softly blowing in the wind.
Beyond that is the view that money did actually buy.
A view of the majority of Rome. You could see St Peters perfectly and Harry mentioned that the sun set will be visible from this room too. All the small buildings below and the little people on their way to work or tourists wandering.
“And?” Harry prompts.
“And what?” You twirl around to see him wandering over, after having shut the door and abandoned the suitcase.
“Is this okay?”
“Is that a serious question?” You raise your eyebrows.
You open your arms as Harry walks into you, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. He breathes you in and squeezes you tight and you follow suit.
“Mm. Want you to have the best time.”
“Harry, babe, this is perfect. More than perfect. Thank you for everything.” Your voice is muffled by speaking into Harry’s jumper.
Harry kisses you on the head a couple of times.
“Do y’want to go for a nap and then go have a wander?”
“Yes please.”
“M’kay.”
It doesn’t take you both long to get comfortable in the bed. Harry opens a door to let in a better breeze and the air con is on full to make sure you don’t overheat.
Harry lays behind you, where you’re laying on your side. Your hood is off now, because Harry likes to lean his face into your neck when you sleep. He likes to breathe in your homely scent and warmth.
His hand lays on your stomach, underneath his jumper, and rubs little circles with his fingers.
You start giggling and Harry asks what’s up with you.
“Tickles.” You hum softly, quite relaxed by the funny feeling.
“Does it now? Y’skins so soft, so I can’t help myself.”
“Won’t be soft forever. Especially if you keep on trying to get me pregnant.”
Harry kisses your neck and leaves a little mark with his teeth. His hand spreads over the span of your stomach and holds it there.
“Won’t care. When you’re pregnant, I am only going to love you and your body twice as much.”
“You say that now…”
“And I’ll say it again when the time comes.” Harry cute you off from any more deprecating thoughts. “Now shush. I’m trying to make sure you get your beauty sleep.”
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exploring back alleys
You and Harry walk hand in hand down a busy street in Rome.
It is so hot and humid that your bodies are so sticky from the heat, but you hold onto each others hands nonetheless because you are simply that attached to one another.
Harry leads the way, walking around the crowds of tourists and past random shops selling art and Rome tat.
He turns around and catches you admiring all the colourful buildings and wonderful Roman architecture, and he can’t help but smile at your wonderous face.
You feel a tug on your hand Harry’s holding and giggle a little when you feel him pulling you towards a back alley.
He runs a little quicker and you have to keep up with him. You check behind you to see if he is running away from something, but no one is following and you think he’s mad for running now.
“Harry!” You laugh as he makes a harsh right and pulls you down another side street.
This one bends slightly in the middle so you can’t see the street entrance either which way.
You don’t have the time to ask any questions before Harry is pushing you against a brick wall painted apricot. He holds his hands on your face and presses his lips hungrily onto yours.
You’re not only hot from the weather, now, but also from how attracted your husband is in this moment.
You groan as he steps forward so he’s leaning infinitely close into your body. You sigh when he moves his head to the side to kiss your better, cupping your hands over his to get a guide on which way he will move next.
When he pulls away you sadly pout.
He laughs at your expression and decides to kiss you again, even longer this time. He kisses and kisses you until you make the move to pull away, before you pass out from lack of breathing.
You laugh first and then Harry follows.
Both of you have never felt happiness like this. Just happy being simply together.
“You’re so…”
“I’m so what, baby?” Harry laughs breathlessly.
“I don’t even know.” You laugh, cupping his cheek and flitting your eyes between both of his as you try to decided which one is prettier. “I do know that I love you, like a lot.”
“Only a lot?”
“Well, like as much as the universe is big.” You give him a warm summers smile.
“Oh well that’s alright then.”
He leans forwards and seals his lips with yours again. You kiss him with all the love you have pocketed for him and don’t let him go until you hear footsteps approaching.
It’s a man and his daughter on their way somewhere.
As they walk past, Harry and you loosen your hold on one another as you don’t want to display too much PDA.
Once they’ve gone Harry giggles.
“What?” You ask.
“Just thinking how that’ll be me someday. Lost in a city with our daughter ‘cause I’m too stubborn to use a map and she’ll probably be distracting me with her gorgeous face she got from her mum…” He trails off.
“That was an intense thought, babe.”
“Mm. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. Having a baby with you, I mean.”
“It’s been on my mind too.”
That’s all that’s said, but you both smile at each other knowingly that as of today you’re starting your future together.
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dining out
Harry looks divine.
Dressed in an unbuttoned white linen shirt that sits on top of a white vest, with a pair of dark navy blue cotton shorts and his rusty old white vans, he has never looked so gorgeous.
It’s the subtle burn and tan of his skin that has you melting for him.
You are currently clipping his hair back with one of your small hair grips for him. He can do it himself, but he prefers it when it comes from you.
You’re both freshly showered and very hungry.
Sweet Disposition by the Temper Trap is playing in the background as you both get ready for dinner in your hotel room. After walking through Rome for the day, you spent some time in the swimming pool together and then showered together before getting ready.
“Y’look beautiful, m’love.” Harry says, watching you through the mirror.
“Thank you.” You speak softly, cheeks flushing over his compliment.
“This red dress on you is just… it’s perfect. You look perfect.”
Your red mini dress shows of your legs that Harry admires so much, and paired with a pair of platform sandals you look like a model straight from Vogue.
“Feel pretty, actually.”
“Good. Y’look prettier than anyone has ever looked in that dress.” Harry knows how to charm you best.
“Baby, you need to stop complimenting me otherwise we’ll miss our reservation.” You laugh, finishing clipping his hair.
“Can’t help myself. So lucky you chose me.��� Harry picks your ring finger up and kisses over the ring that symbolises eternity between you.
“I’ll always choose you. You are too handsome not to.”
An hour later and you’re sitting at the restaurant.
Harry pulled your chair out for you and made sure you were comfortable before sitting in his own chair.
The restaurant is on a lovely little side street, decorated with fairy lights across the terracotta wall. There are ivy vines growing there too and the atmosphere is just peaceful.
There are a few families and other couples here too. It’s not a very fancy restaurant as Harry admitted that the best restaurants in Italy are the most homely and authentic ones.
The waiter was already fetching some water for you whilst you looked the menu.
“What are you thinking, baby?” You ask Harry, from where he is sat across from you.
“Maybe just a Margarita pizza.”
“Really?” You question his taste in food.
“Need something simple but good tasting tonight.”
“Okay, well at least get the bruschetta with me for starters?” You ask, wanting to share something with him.
“Sounds good, yeah.”
When the food comes, you feed Harry some of your pasta whilst Harry gifts you a slice of pizza. Both dishes are beautiful and cooked perfectly.
You both laugh and have the most amazing evening.
The best moment of the evening is when an old couple walk past you, holding each others hands.
“You two are so beautiful together.” The old man says.
“Thank you so much.” Harry smiles and holds your hand in his from across the table.
“Your love reminds me of ours. Precious. Forever.” He goes on to say and you have to swallow back the tears from how sweet his words are.
Harry smiles at you.
“Definitely forever.”
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cherievol6 · 8 months
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in love in italy
hey!!! long time no see…sorry i’ve been off the grid - i’ve been working loads. i just randomly wrote this (I was feeling very poetic after reading Sally Rooney lmfao) hope you enjoy!
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being with harry in Italy brings on some intense feelings that you just need to confess.
warnings: very brief mentions of sex, other than that it’s absolutely heart wrenching fluff.
word count: ~1k
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You’ve never felt like this before.
At least, not when you're in the middle of having sex with someone.
This wasn't just someone though, it was Harry.
Sweet and gentle Harry, whom had made everything feel a little bit lighter for you since the moment you met. Here he was, skin so close to yours it felt like he was trying to meld you both together like clay. His head was dipped into your shoulder, his breaths heaving but blissful. You felt like a pot of boiling sugar bubbling up to a gooey caramel and oozing into the bed below you. He made you feel as though one look from him or one kiss from him would make you shed every negative piece of your mind.
"You okay? You're awfully quiet after that." He half laughs, referring to the intense scene of love that was just displayed in the early hours of the morning, in a random villa in Italy. You’d woken up to get a glass of water and returned to bed to find Harry awake. A quick good night kiss turned into wandering hands and clothes being stripped to the floor. It wasn't quick, or impatient, the way you'd held eachother. It was intense, and thick and heavy — like there was something lingering for the two of you. You feel a few tears slip to yours ears and on to the pillows. Harry still hasn't noticed, gently stroking the leg around his waist. You scratch your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath.
You always found it hard to hold in your cries, since you were small. They swelled your chest like a balloon, and with a sharp gasp of breath the balloon pops and Harry's snapping his head up quickly and brushing your hair out of your face.
"Woah, woah. What's wrong?" His voice is panicked and you don't find yourself trying to avoid his gaze, which is strange. You don't feel upset, you feel overwhelmed. Harry always said it scared him how every time you looked at him it felt like you were reading his mind.
You wipe the sweat from your brow, the warm room making you feel flushed. Or was it this nagging urge to tell Harry something you’d kept to yourself for so long, out of fear of scaring him off so early in your relationship.
You smile, and he must think you look manic, grin growing the more you look at him, his constant over concern for you, like he couldn’t bear to think of anything bad happening to you.
“I feel good.” You say quietly, running your thumb over his mole next to his mouth.
“Yeah? That’s good.” He kisses you softly.
“Do you feel good?” He nods at your question without hesitation.
His eyes seem to gloss over akin to yours, and the words are literally behind your teeth when he says, “Always when I’m with you. You make me feel so safe. I can’t describe it-”
“I love you so much, Harry.” The tears are no longer tears, rather streams of saltiness that saturate your hair and Harry’s hands. He seems to deposit the last of the air in his lungs before he can speak again. Like your words winded him.
“You love me?” His voice is timid, and his hand is now shaking.
“You know that thing, where people paint in acrylic on a canvas, and it looks good, but kind of dull? A bit moody?” Harry nods, with a small smile creeping up his face. You always were one for the metaphor, “and then they paint it with that shimmery gloss and it makes the painting look so different. Like it’s brand new, and you’re finally seeing it in its best form? That’s how you make me feel. I wasn’t bad before, I just needed something…or someone to make me more vibrant. You do that for me. And I love you for it.”
He laughs, and the movement makes his tears fall out of his eyes and on to your cheeks. You are the most emotionally intelligent person he’s ever met in his life and he can’t believe that you’re in love with him.
“You always come up with the most beautiful metaphors...” he kisses you again, like staring at your face for too long brings on the urge to just devour you whole. “I genuinely think my entire life was created to coexist with yours, and just hear every piece of your mind that you’ll let me.”
You pull him down again and kiss him again. You were insatiable for his kisses, they were like oxygen for you. He’s still crying, and you’re still crying, and all you can hear around you is his heavy heartbeat and the owls in the trees around you. Your favourite place to be with Harry was in his Italian house. It felt like no one in the world existed or cared about the two of you when you were within these walls.
“I love you. I have done for months and I will do for a lifetime. Okay?” His brows are pinched together, in a sincere and reassuring way. Like he needs you to know that he’s not going anywhere.
“Okay.” You smile widely, until your cheeks hurt and your eyes wrinkle. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Now that it’s out in the air it feels like the only form of communication between you both in this moment. Harry rocks against your hips and kisses your neck, and you begin to breathe shallow. You whine when he connects your lips again.
“Show me how much you love me, H.”
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erodasfishtacos · 1 year
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Loving You is Easy (Demi)
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prompt: my baby 🥺 mlb!harry’s exploration of his sexuality and coming out.
word count: 14.3k 🥲
warnings: topics of sexuality, identify issues, bullying, toxic masculinity, smut - 18+ minors dni
Take The Hint takes place in the middle of this fic & so you might want to reread first or when Harry starts to mention YN.
This fic is my baby. I’m so so proud of it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.
Please please like, follow, comment, and reblog ❣️
And I really would love to hear your thoughts so please send me a message about the fic ❣️
-
Assumptions.
That’s what Harry’s life has been based upon since he was in little league because of his perceived dominance and masculinity.
It happened nearly every game, he’d always draw attention because of his skill. 
Even at such a young age - as soon as he could bat without the tee to hold the ball, people knew that he was something special.
Women would pinch his cheek and tell his mother to watch out because he was going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies - men would chuckle and joke that they were going to have to hide their daughters from him.
It doesn’t get any better as he grows up, it actually gets worse. 
The more notoriety he garners, more attention and not just based on his athletic abilities, his looks landed him almost just as much.
He was good-looking and had above average athleticism, he was irresistible for people to leave alone.
He can’t count the number of times that men have asked him how many girls he had fucked that week because he just had to be getting it all the time.
In all this time of feeling wanted, Harry had never felt more alone. 
He felt like there was something wrong with him. 
There had to be - because he wasn’t living up to any expectations that society has set for him and had made abundantly clear since he was young.
He was meant to have a girl on his arm, who had to be the societal standard of beautiful who would follow him like a puppy.
Since he was a young teenager, always playing on baseball teams much higher than his age level - coaches and scouts knew that he was destined for the major leagues and it was just a matter of time before they snatched him up.
Girls in high school would swoon over his chiseled jaw, the way his biceps flexed, and the baseball bleachers were riddled with gaggles of giggly girls watching him practice on the pitch.
He didn’t have a break, there wasn’t a day of practice that didn’t go by where girls weren’t coming to watch him as he played.
It was supposed to be flattering but to Harry, it was just frustrating to constantly have all these girls gawking after him when he wasn’t interested.
Harry knew that he should be enjoying all the attention from the female gaze, at least, that’s what he thinks because of how often people are making assumptions about his private life.
But that’s all these things were…
Assumptions.
Harry didn’t care about girls or dating in middle school, never really gave it another thought when he never developed any crushes on the pretty peers who were very much interested in him.
It wasn’t until high school that he realized that there was something wrong with him or so he thought that he wasn’t normal like the other kids.
Harry began to realize that he didn’t have the same interests and urges as his friends who were constantly drooling over girls in short skirts or commenting on their appearances.
He could look at a girl and think she’s pretty but he didn’t have some deep primal urge to ask her over his house so he could get his rocks off like his friends did.
It only became an issue when his so-called friends started teasing him about his lack of social life with the ladies.
They would ask him if he was gay or asexual, asked him if he was still a virgin with all the date offers he gets.
He didn’t know what he was - he didn’t know if he was gay or asexual, he wanted to have sex but he didn’t just want it to be random.
Harry now realizes it wasn’t harmless teasing, not with how much emotional damage it had on his psyche to constantly be questioned about his sexuality.
He hadn’t known what he was.
It had been a late night practice and everyone was talking about the upcoming prom dance.
“Who are you taking, Styles?” Cody, one of his teammates asks as he packs up his bag with his equipment.
“Er, not sure,” Harry shrugs, attempting to come off nonchalant and unbothered by the question - despite how cocky he appeared, he was the furthest thing from confident internally about the topic.
“Come on! I know Lana and Jessie already asked you and they’re the hottest girls in the school! Lana’s tits are massive,” Seth chimes in, offended that Harry would have the nerve to turn down the girls of his teenage dreams.
Harry feels his face get hot because he knows what this is going to turn into very quickly - as it always did.
“Is it because you’re taking your boyfriend? Or yourself? Your hand can’t be your only date forever!” Cody crows, Harry’s hackle standing up at the jab and he feels himself getting hot.
“Mind your own fucking business,” Harry huffs out instead, swinging his pack over his shoulder and turning on his heel to leave.
“You know for how good you are at baseball, nobody would know you’re a virgin. Great in the field, a dud in the sheets,” Conner can’t help but add in, all the boys were chuckling as they changed.
Harry is still trying to be the bigger person by continuing to walk away but when Seth snickers, “Y’know what I think? He’s so good at baseball because he’s making up for his small dick.’
Everyone has a breaking point.
They had managed to get Harry to hit his, which was an accomplishment but the subject of his sexuality had become more and more tender over the past few months as he really started to understand his dilemma. 
Harry drops his bag at his feet, storming towards Seth with his fist coming up, raised and about to swing when their coach appears to stop anything from happening.
Seth is frowning with his hands up in surrender, eyes wide as he realizes Harry was actually mad, “I was just joking around with you. Take a fucking joke.”
“The only joke in this locker room is your baseball abilities,” Harry snarls back, it was quite the insult coming from their captain and Seth's face drops even more than before.
“Styles, hit the road,” Coach Greggs orders, pointing towards the exit of the lock room with a serious expression - disappointment in his star player’s behavior.
-
When Harry gets home, he bypasses his mum and sister without even a hello before he’s running upstairs to his room and slamming the door shut.
He hates feeling like this.
Like he didn’t even know who he was.
How difficult could it be to figure out what or who you’re attracted to?
He was trying to convince himself he wasn’t broken, he knew all his body parts worked, it wasn’t anything but pure mental blockage.
Thinking about having someone lay next to him in his bed, they’re kissing, taking off clothes - Harry likes the idea of that.
However, it’s not just anyone, it’s not a random hookup.
He imagines it being someone he’s in love with, he’s so fucking fond of, and they know each other so intimately - its just them in their little world, no one else had this experience but them together.
But that doesn’t make any sense.
That’s not a thing.
Harry always felt normal beside this but this was major. 
This was detrimental that he figured out what his issue was or he would never have a partner, get married, have kids.
Sure, he'd probably be a successful baseball player but may be the oldest virgin on this earth if he didn't shake this feeling.
Harry decides that same night that he's going to go against his instincts and just ask a girl to the dance - maybe once he put himself out there it will change.
And as Harry was thinking about it, he wouldn't necessarily be against asking a boy either but he's not sure he's ready to explore that idea right now.
He didn't feel excited at the aspect of having a date but instead just a sad relief that his teammates won't bother him anymore.
It felt lonely and isolating.
-
Harry brings flowers the next day, he knows which girl he wants to ask, Yazmin - he knew she had a crush on him and she was nice, not overly concerned with what others thought of her.
The other reason he is choosing her is because she is one of the many who had made it extremely obvious that she would instantly say yes to him if he asked and he was really not trying to get rejected either.
He feels bad he's not very enthusiastic when she accepts and draws him into a massive hug with her face buried in his neck.
To avoid coming off as rude, he hugs her back until it becomes too much for him and he's pulling back with a forced smile.
The lunchroom is filled with envious glares from other girls who had either been dropping hints to Harry that they wanted to go with him or they'd be too nervous to be forward and are boiling with envy.
Yazmin begins to talk about colors, her dress, everything that people should be looking forward to for the event.
Harry...well, he was just hoping that after he asked her and she accepted that he would feel something, anything towards her whether it was a bit of fondness or admiration.
There wasn’t a question that she was pretty, her long thick black curls that fell down her back, her warm brown eyes, and wide smile.
But there was nothing, absolutely nothing that was attracting him to her at this moment as she babbled on about cool versus warm tones.
-
After baseball practice, he wanders in to his mum and sister sitting at the dinner table - just beginning their meal as they chat.
When he drops his backpack and duffle bag near the entryway and joins them - he's tired from all the drills and doesn't say anything more than 'hi' as he begins digging in.
"Mrs. Fields told me today that you asked Yazmin to the dance," Anne smiles with bright eyes, she was proud that he was putting himself out there - she worried about him.
Harry feels his stomach churn, he's short when he replies, not looking up from his plate, "Yeah."
"I'm so happy for you, this is going to be so exciting," Anne says before taking a sip of her tea and patting his hand.
"She's pretty too," Gemma adds to the conversation, "I think you guys are going to make a cute couple."
"I'm not dating her," Harry says sharply, using a bit more force to stab at his vegetables, "It's just an invite to a stupid dance. That's it."
"I know, dear. It's just that we haven’t seen you interested in any girls at your school and I want you to enjoy your high school experience-"
"Can I not enjoy high school without a girlfriend? Is me not being not a star athlete enough?" Harry is getting loud which isn't like him to every raise his voice at his mother, "Why does everyone fucking care? I just want to be left the fuck alone about it!"
With that, Harry is slamming down his silverware, snatching his backpack off the floor, and storming up to his room with the door shutting and the lock being flicked.
-
Harry doesn't come out of his room that night and refuses to speak more than a few words to them through the door.
The next morning when Harry comes down for school, dressed and ready to go, Anne tries to  smooth over the situation.
She didn't know what was going on with her son and that was a new uncomfortable feeling for her - usually he was open about everything with her.
Anne didn't know what she said that had triggered the response he'd given and despite how much she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew that she shouldn't force him.
"Harry," Anne speaks up when he steps into the kitchen to make his morning protein drink, " I want to talk about last night."
"There's nothing to talk about, s'fine," He brushes off stiffly as he reaches for one of his shaker bottles and container of protein mix.
"There is. I clearly upset you last night," Anne's voice is soft and cautious, "I'm sorry. I love no matter if you want to date or not, I'm proud and excited for you no ma-"
"There's nothing wrong with me!" Harry bites back as he tries to scoop out the powder, hands shaking with some strong emotion, and it spills onto the countertop.
"I didn't say there was," Anne furrows her brow, she felt like they were on two difficult wavelengths and not really speaking the same language - having two different conversations.
"Shouldn't everyone care that I'm lined up to go pro or that with all this training, I still get straight A's," Harry scoffs as he pours the water and shakes it harshly, "Why is everyone so focused on who I'm going to sleep with?"
And with that, he's grabbing his stuff and leaving the house - Anne stunned as she sits at the breakfast nook unsure of how an innocent conversation at dinner has led to an ongoing tense back and forth with her son.
-
Yazmin is all over him and Harry is quickly realizing that him inviting her to the dance was also interpreted as him asking her to be his girlfriend.
But when she sat down next to him at lunch, her hand moving to intertwine with his - he didn't push her off but instead could only think about the whole lunch period about how he didn't want to be holding hands with her.
However, he noticed that all of his friends had their girlfriends cuddled up on them too and seemed to enjoy it when their girl curled into them or kissed their cheeks.
He played along.
-
In the locker room, after practice, well Harry wishes he could skip changing and go home because he was starting to not enjoy this time around his teammates.
"Yazmin, man," Hunter laughs as he sits on the bench to kick off his cleats, "It's no surprise you wait until the last minute to ask a girl out and you pick the hottest girl at school."
Harry shrugs as he shoves his jersey into his duffle, shoulders already tensing because of the conversation topic, "Yeah, she's nice.”
"Nice? You mean has nice tits," Luke adds and the other boys howl loudly as they mock breasts with their hands coming up their chests, "She's got huge ones. Let me know how they look when you get her topless."
Harry shakes his head, face turned away towards his locker- even though his teammates are being pigs, he wishes he could relate in a way.
He hadn't even looked at her chest or maybe he had but it didn't elicit any type of sexual response that made him want to get her naked.
It seemed like every other guy in the room had the identical response except him - normal teenage boys cared about boobs, really no matter who they belonged to.
"Yeah, I saw Casey's pair last night," Josh adds with a cocky smirk, "Let me touch 'em and everything."
Luckily, that conversation distracts the boys enough to lay off of Harry - now to focused on Josh's experience with his girlfriend.
They don't even notice when he slips out the door to head home as they all joke around and share stories.
Life was just..
Harry was miserable.
He dreaded going to school because of all the eyes on him, the fact that Yazmin wanted to be with him every free second, or his friends who were always talking about something girl or sex-related.
At practice, he got hounded by his teammates about the same things everyday and had to hear tales that he didn't assimilate to in the slightest.
At home, he was now in this weird limbo where he knows his mom and sister feel like they're walking on eggshells because of his moodiness that he refuses to talk about.
The ideas of relationship and sex were closing in on him from every angle and he just didn't want to talk about it.
He wished that when he was born someone just smacked a label on his forehead that said 'gay', 'straight', 'asexual', something so that he didn't have to figure this out himself.
Why was it so fucking difficult?
He felt broken, like his brain wasn't functioning correctly because he couldn't even decipher his own thoughts or feelings.
He'd always felt like this in a way but now that he is at the age where people begin to get into relationships and have sex - it's in the forefront of his mind.
He just has to get through the dance with Yazmin, that's it - he at least has to try to see this through with dating her.
-
Harry knows he's been pulling away from his family too but he doesn't feel like he's able to help it - he can’t explain what’s going on and he doesn’t want to be shunned by them too.
Because he feels like if he talked to them he'll blurt out, "I might not be straight" or "I don't know what's going on with me."
He used to think that he thought about it a lot but ever since he asked Yazmin to the dance - the only time he doesn't think about it is when he's on the field  or working out.
Baseball is his only escape.
When all the boys are going out after the game, the weekend before the dance, they were all inviting their girlfriends to join them.
He didn't want to be an asshole so he knew it was only right to invite Yazmin too - he didn't want her to feel left out.
When they're all in the pizza shop, it's nearly ten at night, and they're all still sipping on Coke and eating pizza after winning the game.
Yazmin is sat next to him in the long booth, their thighs smooshed together, and she wraps her arm around his - resting her head on his shoulder.
It's a nice gesture and Harry feels guilty that he wants to push her away so he lets it happen and tries not to think too much about it.
The conversation turns into the afterparty for prom, they were renting a cabin in a nearby state park, and were planning to drink and have a campfire.
Harry had agreed to go but he really hadn't thought of the implications until Harry is driving Yazmin home that night and she seems nervous in the passenger seat.
"Is everything okay?" Harry asks as he navigates out of the pizza's shop's parking lot and towards her house.
"Yeah. It-It's just, are you excited about the dance? You weren't very talkative in there," She points out, she seems a bit disappointed but hides it behind a small smile.
Harry sighs, he doesn't know how to address it, so he lies, "I am excited, really. It's just been crazy with baseball. I'm sorry it didn't seem like I was in there. Just tired, I guess."
Yazmin perks up immediately, "It's okay, I just wanted to check. I'm used to you being really outspoken and talkative so I was just making sure."
Harry moves his hand over to her, resting it on the lower part of her thigh, near her knee, and squeezes, "It's gonna be fun."
"I can't wait for you to see me in my dress," She replies, her smile widened with his touch as she moves to put her hand over his.
"I'm sure you'll be gorgeous," He fake smiles, keeping his eyes on the road, they're nearly to her house and he presses the gas pedal a little harder.
As they pull up, Yazmin takes a deep breath before asking, "Are you going to bring protection to the cabin?"
Harry gives her a puzzled look, confused for a second by what she means by protection and she grimaces when she realizes he's confused.
"Condoms? I'm on birth control but I want to make sure we're being safe," She adds sheepishly, looking down at her hands.
How was she already talking about sex when they haven't even went further than kissing? 
He didn't think he'd be expected to get intimate with someone this fast in a relationship.
"Oh, er," Harry stammers, just as embarrassed as her, his throat felt tight," Yeah, I'll definitely bring some. If that's what you uh, if that's what you want to do."
For objectively being the most popular boy in school, it was really quite ironic how backwards he was compared to the other people in his grade.
He was eighteen, everyone already assumes that he lost his virginity by this point, and it shows - he wonders if she can tell.
"I'd like to," Yazmin responds before leaning over to kiss him, she parts her lips and Harry matches her but it doesn't feel as nice as he thinks it's supposed to.
They kiss for a while in the car that night until his lips are puffy and swollen but Harry doesn't even remotely feel a twinge of any arousal.
As he drives home that night, he punches his steering wheel a few times- letting out frustrated screams into the car because he just wants to be like everyone else.
-
The actual event of prom goes fine.
It's easy smiling for pictures, eating at a fancy restaurant, and then going to the hotel where they all dance around to the music without anything being too serious.
The issue comes when they get to the cabin and everyone is starting to disappear from the campfire up to their own bedrooms with their significant others.
Harry waits as long as possible, until the flames legitimately start to fizzle out - he hadn't even touched any alcohol, neither had Yazmin.
She was getting impatient as she begins to wrap their hands together and kiss at his neck before finally asking, "Ready to go to our room?"
Harry agrees because he can't stay out here forever, he had bought condoms even though he was pretty sure they wouldn't be using them.
He bought them in the hopes that maybe, magically that once his body knew he had the oppurtunity to have sex that he would be interested enough to do so.
When they're up in the bedroom, Yazmin is on him, her lips finding his and kissing like they were that night in the car.
He can tell that she's nervous too but she seems much more excited and eager as she tugs off his shirt and runs her hands over his stomach before going for his athletic shorts.
She kneels down and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut because when she pulls down his shorts - he's not at all hard.
It doesn't seem to deter her, she leans down to begin to stimulate him, and nothing happens as she does it - it’s not those amazing fireworks that his friends talk about.
He knows there’s a silent tear slipping from his eye when she finally pulls back when she realizes something isn't right.
"I'm sorry," Harry says with the most embarrassment he's ever felt in his life, "I'm- I'm sorry, Yazmin."
Yazmin pulls his shorts back up for him before standing in front of him, she puts her hand to his jaw and says quietly, "Look at me."
Harry blinks his eyes open, trying to hold in his tears as she looks at him with a concerned expression.
"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to force you to do -" She begins to apologize profusely, getting upset herself.
It snaps him out of his own mind and his voice is firm when he interrupts her, "Hey, no. No, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise. It's me, you're-you're wonderful and pretty. It-s me."
Yazmin’s face washes with relief as he speaks, she reaches to take his hands but it's more of a friendly gesture.
"Are you..." She trails off, not wanting to make any assumptions about him.
"I don't know," He says honestly, choking up a bit on the words, "I'm really trying to figure it out and I just feel broken. This proves I am."
"You're not broken, Harry," Yazmin smiles as she shakes her head like he’s silly, "You're just figuring it out and that's okay."
"I know you don't owe me anything after all this but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone," Harry mumbles as he laughs a big self-deprecating.
"My lips are sealed. If anyone asks, we had amazing hot sex," She giggles as she walks over to her bag to pull out pajamas, "Want to watch a movie?"
And his prom night actually wasn't as awful as it started out, Yazmin and him laid in the massive king bed and watched a few older horror movies and made fun of the bad acting.
At some point they drift off to sleep, when they wake up, they're not necessarily cuddled together but Yazmin's arm is slung over his stomach.
He thinks to himself, this isn't too bad, and just that little thought alone makes him feel like he may not be as lost of a cause as he sometimes feels.
-
Yazmin and him stayed friends after they 'broke up' and she never spoke a word about what happened that night and to her, he'll always be eternally grateful that kind, understanding people exist.
The summer before college, he realized that he needed to actually take the time to explore his sexuality through research instead of continuing a pity party for himself.
He could narrow down that he wasn't entirely straight because the idea of him being in love with someone other than a female didn't sound obscure or unappealing to him.
He didn’t think it mattered who he fell in love with, it wouldn’t be purely based on their gender.
The idea of sex didn't repusle him, he wanted to have sex and he knew that he wasn't asexual.
He wanted to have a partner and have sex.
That's when it stuck with him.
Everytime he thought about having sex with someone, it was a partner, someone he was in a strong romantic relationship with - but he didn't think that was a specific sexuality.
One day, he's watching some reality television show, and when they're introducing the contestants - someone on the screen identifies themselves as demisexual.
He'd never heard that term before and he curiously puts it into the search engine on his phone to figure out the definition.
That's when he reads the definition that changes it all.
"Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in whcih a person feels sexually attracted to someone only after they've developed a close emotion with them."
Harry felt like he was having an epiphany and that the world fell still for a moment - it was like finding the puzzle piece he had been missing for years of his life.
It finally fucking made sense.
It made so much sense that he started crying, full on sobbing as he held his head with disbelief that something clicked.
Anne, who was in the kitchen, making dinner, hears the sniffles and rushes in, concerned when she finds her son crying which was completely out of the norm.
"Harry, honey," Anne coos softly, sitting down next to him and brushing his hair off his forehead before wrapping her arm around his shoulders, "What's gotten you so upset?"
"M'not upset, mom," Harry chuckles as she tries to wipe away some of his tears with the sleeve of her shirt, "I just-, I don't know how you'll react when I tell you."
"Is it bad?" Anne asks worriedl,  tugging him in closer like he was still a little boy and not a big, tall athlete that was way larger than her.
"I-I'm, it's about me," Harry stutters, his thoughts now racing for a different reason, this wasn't on how he planned to tell his mother any of this but he didn't want to lie to her either.
He wanted to be himself and he wanted his family to know who he is.
"I've been struggling with, erm, who I am for a really really long time," Harry begins, his eyes glued to his feet, "And I..I finally figured it out."
"I'll love you no matter what you're going to tell me, Harry Edward,” Anne says firmly, tilting his chin so that their eyes meet and he can tell how serious she is.
"I'm pansexul and demisexual," Harry breathes out, saying it into the unvierse for the first time, it felt like a massive weight has been lifted off of his chest, "It means that I am attracted to people regardless of their gender and that I'm only sexually attracted to that  person after we established a emotional bond.”
"How long have you known?" Anne asks as she holds him closer.
"I-I've known that I wasn't st-straight for a long time but I-I didn't know what exactly I was until now," Harry stutters out through tears, Anne can't remember the last time she saw her son cry and his face was damp with emotion.
"I am so proud of you," Anne murmurs but her voice was firm and serious, she moves to cup his cheeks until he's making eye contact with her, "So so proud of who you are."
"Y-You're proud of me?" Harry repeats back in a whisper, his heart felt like it was beating fast enough it was going to leap out of his chest.
"Of course I am," She laughs softly, like it was ridiculous that he could think that she wouldn't be filled with pride, "I love you so much. My little boy."
She kisses both of his cheeks before wiping the tears away once more.
Anne isn't expecting it when Harry hugs her tightly, his face tucked into her shoulder as he hides away for a moment.
She rubs his back lightly and just holds him as he sniffles, she hadn't cuddled him like this is so long but he clung to her for a long while as she whispered words of love.
-
Gemma is the second person that he decides that he needs to come out - he's not as worried about her reaction as his mum but it still wasn't going to be fun for him.
She had gotten home from work and disappeared into her room to most likely working on college homework like she did nearly everyday.
Harry knocks and when she calls for him to come in, he's sheepish as he comes to sit on her bed next to where she has her textbooks splayed out.
"I have something to tell you," Harry starts off after taking a deep inhale of breath, why was he so nervous? It was just Gemma.
But everyone reacts differently, people he think would be supportive of him may not agree with it and give him pushback or worse disown him.
He was nervous because he couldn't lose his sister but he also couldn't stand not living his truth any longer.
"If you took my laptop charger one more time and broke it, I swear to -" She begins with a frown as she closes her book to glare at him.
"No, it's...well," Harry begins to trip over what he wants to say and now maybe isn't the right time, maybe he should think it through more than this, "Forget about it."
Gemma realizes quickly that something isn't right, she reaches out to grab his arm and tug him back down, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"I have something that I want to tell you," He reiterates with a sigh, "I just don't know how you'll feel about it."
Harry explains what he had explained earlier to his mother to her, she listens intently and doesn't try to crack any jokes while he's speaking.
After he's done with what he feels like is rambling, he hesitantly looks up to meet her gaze.
"How did you think I would feel?" Is the first thing she asks.
Harry's brow furrows in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"You said you were worried about how I would feel about you telling me," Gemma explains from before he told her.
"Ju-Just that you'd be disappointed in me," Harry hates that he's been crying so much lately but he begins to sniffle.
"Oh, Harry," Gemma titters, swiping her school things off the bed so she can drag him into a hug, just like his mother did, "I would never be disappointed in you for being who you are. I love you. I'm happy that you finally feel like you've figured it out."
"I hope I find someone," Harry chuckles, wiping his face on his hoodie, "I hope I find someone who will understand, that I'll be able to fall in love with and have a normal relationship."
"It will happen," Gemma hums as she pulls back, "Just like with you figuring this out. It won't happen overnight. Now get out, I have to study."
-
It really doesn't happen overnight or anytime soon.
He will say that getting in to college and knowing his sexuality even if he hadn't been with anyone had let him slip back into the cocky role that he was used to.
Harry had no problem flirting with girls and guys at frat parties to keep up appearances - even though he wasn't interested in sleeping with them.
It kept his teammates from questioning him because when they saw him at parties, giving a girl his million dollar smile and telling her she's cute - they figured he was sleeping with them.
He didn't enjoy going to parties because it was only fun to fake flirt for a little bit before he wanted to leave because people were trying to get him alone in a bedroom.
Luckily, baseball and sponsorships took up a majority of him time so he wasn't expected at many frat celebrations with how rigorous his workouts and training schedule were.
Tonight though, he didn't have an excuse to not come because they had three days off that weekend.
Everyone convinced him to come, it wasn't a bad time really but he couldn't drink because he'd be kicked off the team  if he got hit with an underage drinking fine.
(They definitely wouldn't kick their star player off the team but he would be in deep shit and would much rather avoid that.)
Harry had been trying to get to know people on campus, trying to create the emotional attachment that he was searching for but it wasn't easy.
It felt fucking impossible.
He learned very quickly that he couldn 't just will it to magically happen and that he has issues building those bonds with anyone.
There was a girl named Halee who he had been talking to for the past few weeks, they met in one of his statistics classes and he tried to make an effort with her.
He took her out to dinner twice, listened to her talk for ages, and he waited to feel the spark after consistently seeing her for a month.
There was nothing there.
She was at the party tonight, they hadn't gone any further than making out because Harry didn't want to force himself to do that. 
Halee manages to get him alone in his frat bedroom later that night, stating that she needed to talk to him alone, and he knows it’s bad that he’s hoping she wants to break up.
But when his bedroom door shut, her lips were on his and she was pushing him back towards the bed - the exact opposite of what he wanted.
When he falls backwards onto his bed, she's crawling on top of him to straddle him, never taking her lips from his as her thighs come onto either side of him.
Harry's hands come to her hips, knowing he should try to enjoy it but also that it was no use despite how hard she grinded her hips into his.
After a few minutes, she pulls back and palms at him - completely expecting to find him hard and ready for her but...nothing.
He's not hard.
Halle gives him a confused look, she'd never had an issue with a college guy’s libido before, and she knew she was attractive.
Harry can feel his face turning red with shame but manages to give her a reasonable lie, "I think it's just because I've drank so much. I'm pretty wasted."
That seems to satisfy her concern because she giggles and drags him back to the party, promising that they can try again when they haven't been drinking so much.
However, he knows that's not going to happen because he fully plans on sending her an 'im sorry, its just not working out' text tomorrow morning.
Harry doesn't stay at the party much longer before he's retreating up to his room and locking the door to shut everyone out.
Sure, he's become more acepting of his own sexuality but it doesn't mean that it doesn't fucking suck that he can't just have a casual hook up.
The fact is the only sexual interactions he's had are where girls are coming onto him, he has to make an excuse or they'll see he's not physically into it which makes everything ten times worse.
Harry feels that sinking feeling coming back that he remembers well from his senior year of high school.
He remembers thinking that because he finally identified what sexuality he was that it was the code to cracking his life long struggle.
He wonders often whether he's truly waiting to meet the right person or if it's just something that is wrong with him.
The fake flirting, turning people down who come onto him, dating people he has no real interest in.
At some point it doesn't feel worth it to try to find his person , he wonders if there just isn't a person for him and that's a really lonely thought.
-
(Take The Hint) - One Shot
This girl makes him want to scream.
He didn't mean to break her fucking ipad and she has the nerve to run to the school newspaper and write an article about him.
He had apologized when it happened but she hadn't been willing to accept it, that wasn't his fault.
Harry had never had such a critique in a school paper before and he wasn't going to stand for it.
He doesn't know why he feels the need to go back and forth with this journalist from the paper but he can't stay away.
After their back and forths, he finds himself bringing her food a few times to the newspaper's office after he gets done with a long day of training.
Harry's intruigued that this girl doesn't seem to give a fuck about who he is and really hasn't given him the time of day.
But he finds himself looking forward to picking up a sandwich for her so that she can try to refuse it and give him a shy smile when he doesn't take no for an answer.
It sounds a bit dumb, Harry has spent so much of his time worried about finding the right person or building this emotional bond that he fucking misses it when it's right in front of him.
When YN walks out onto the field that day, leans over the fence and connects their lips for the first time - his insides feel like they're going to combust.
His stomach feels warm with excitement, he's eager to kiss her back, he wants to kiss her back and not stop for anything.
When she pulls away, he wants to pull her back, and join their lips again - he's never wanted to do that before.
Then when she asks, "Are you going to ask me out or what?"
Holy fucking hell.
He has never said yes sooner.
Harry was an idiot.
He didn't see that their back and forth over the past few months (even if a few of those were fights) was flirting and building this god damn connection.
It didn't seem like it at the time because in the past, he had to make conscious efforts to build relationships.
It happened naturally with her, he didn't have to think about 'wanting' to kiss her, forcing time together - he wanted to do all those things without having to plan it.
As he's walking back to the frat from practice that night, his mind is racing because he thinks he might have finally done it.
He found his person.
Harry didn't want to give his hopes up but he just hasn't felt like this before - he's had hundreds of opportunities with the smartest, most attractive people and he's never gotten that warm feeling in his stomach around any of them.
He was thinking about the next time he would get to kiss her and really kiss her - it made him feel something new but it was thrilling.
-
Harry has never felt more nervous in his life, he'd changed his outfit at least five times, and fluffed his hair a hundred more.
It was funny, outside looking in, despite how cocky Harry appeared to everyone - he really wasn't like that at all.
He hoped that YN would like him and he was worried because even though she forgave him, they really didn’t get off on the right foot.
There was another anxious thought bubbling up, what if he's getting too excited and it is another relationship that falls flat.
Harry nearly wants to back out because he doesn't think he can be let down like that again - he just wants to be loved and love someone.
They're set to meet at a small italian restaurant off of campus, Lorenzo's, and Harry arrives first.
Shet not there yet but he's also a few minutes early, he's trying to talk himself out of a nervous breakdown when a group approaches him, a group of middle-aged men who want to talk to the Harry Styles.
Harry smiles politely, answering questions about the upcoming games, and what he thought of their last win.
When they finally bid him goodbye after a few minutes, the group disperse and waiting patiently is YN with a small smile.
"You're really popular, huh? The Harry Styles," She greets, it was teasing but not in a mean way more curious than anything.
And Harry's mouth felt dry because she looked fucking beautiful like the prettiest thing he's ever seen.
In a form-fitting orange dress, her skin tone was complimenting the vibrant color and her curves were other worldly. ***
Harry knows, absolutely knows he wasn't just trying to make this work, he was undoubtedly attractive to her.
It was the fact that he wanted to see what lay beneath the dress, the way her breasts sat made it hard to control his gaze.
More importantly, her smile was wide and heartbreakingly gorgeous as she stared a bit confused, waiting for him to say something.
"You are gorgeous," Harry manages, it wasn't a line, it was the truth, "Sorry, you took my breath away for a moment if I'm being honest."
YN lets out a shy giggle, her hands smoothing the sides of her dress as a nervous tick, as she steps closer to him.
"You don't look too bad yourself, quite handsome actually," YN compliments, reaching out for Harry's hand so he can guide them inside.
The cocky attitude drops over dinner, well it never appeared in the first place, and YN was appreciative of that.
YN was intelligent, funny, kind, and quite honestly, everything Harry's ever wanted as she snorts out her drink at a dumb joke he makes.
She kicks off heels halfway through the appetizer and rests her foot on his thigh like they've known each other for ages.
He can't help but reach down and squeeze her ankle, fingers dancing along the ridge of the bone, and laughing when he tickles her enough to make her squeak.
For the first time, it doesn't feel forced, he doesn't have to remember that he should want to touch his date.
Harry is interested in everything she has to say from her experience on the newspaper to how she accidentally broke into a museum while she was in high school.
He finds himself laughing genuinely, not counting down the minutes until the date is over, in fact, he doesn't want it to end.
"You're actually a nice guy," YN murmurs towards the end of dinner when their plates are near empty, "Who would have guessed."
Harry winces at the dig, putting his silverware down and looking at her seriously, "I am sorry about how I treated you. I was being a douche. I don't always feel like I have a lot going for me and baseball is what I'm good at and to have that article written was a hit on my ego."
It was the most honest he's ever been with someone but he didn't even think twice about revealing his most vulnerable thoughts to her.
YN's face twist in confusion, "What do you mean you don't have a lot going for you? You have a guarantee in going pro, you have a ton of friends, and you have no shortages of girls around you."
Harry knew he wasn't ready to delve into his sexuality conversation with her, he hasn't ever talked to anyone outside of his family and Niall about it.
Instead of admitting what really makes him feel low - his sexuality and lack of relationships, he just shrugs and says, "I don't know. It's just..It's not alway easy."
"I imagine, it's a lot of pressure on you at all times. Everyone watching your every move," She agrees, her eyes are soft and she can tell Harry's thinking about something.
She doesn't force him to tell her, instead she reaches across the table for his hand and takes it in hers - but she doesn't let go.
Throughout dessert, they hold hands across the table until Harry is feeding YN a piece of strawberry cheesecake and it ends up on her lips instead of in her mouth.
"You did that on purpose," YN laughs, her tongue peeking out to wipe the sweetness away but misses the corner of her lips.
"Missed a spot," Harry chuckles, he leans over to wipe it off with his thumb and when he does, she takes his thumb in her mouth - just for a mere moment to lick it off with a cheeky smile.
Harry feels himself actually start to harden in his pants and he almost wants to panic because that's never happened before - even when girls have tried way more sexy things to get his attention.
It had been a simple but intimate gesture, it wasn't even groundbreaking to YN, she went back to eating her gelato without another thought about the interaction.
Harry had to will himself to calm down, his mind racing to her plump lips and the way it wrapped around his thumb.
If he had any doubt that YN was his person, it was completely gone now - he hadn't even known her long but to say he was infatuated with her was an understatement.
He couldn't find one thing about her that he didn't like from her beauty to her intellect to the way she giggles with a little snort when something was extra funny.
It felt like his world was shaping to revolve around hers but that scared him on the same end that he hadn't known her that long - their emotional connection was just that strong.
After the date, Harry offers to walk her home because she lives in the campus dorms - just like at dinner, very soon into the walk she takes off her heels and shoves them in her purse.
Harry doesn't know if he should make a move, this was all so fucking new, and he felt like he was years behind on what he should know, basics about dates.
YN wasn't hesitant or coy, she quickly intertwined their hands as they walk, bumping shoulders as she points out where her classes are at certain buildings and what she hates about some of her awful professors.
Harry wants to cry because it's just so nice to hold someones fucking hand, that's all he's wanted for so long.
When they arrive at her building, YN digs out her keycard, giving him a pouty expression, "I'm sad our date’s over. I really did have a good time."
"I had an amazing time," Harry tells her seriously, "Will you go out with me again?"
YN squints up at him, with puckered lips, "I'll have to think about it."
Harry's heart drops.
"Oh my god," YN bursts out laughing, "Your face. Of course, I'll go on another date with you, I had fun."
"S'not funny," Harry mumbles grumply as she giggles at his reaction.
"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you," YN hums, stepping into his space and leaning up until their lips meet.
Harry's frozen for a moment, it feels like sparks, like everything finally makes sense but he doesn't realize that he actually physically froze because YN is pulling back.
"Shit, I'm sorry I though-" She begins to apologize profusely, thinking she read the situation wrong.
Harry takes a deep breath, channeling his confidence, and he steps forward into her space now - hands coming to cup her face and bring their lips together passionately.
Their lips move in perfect synchronization, his tongue swiping against her lips until she opens, and he can get entrance.
Her hand comes up to his neck, keeping him close as they kiss, it feels like his first real kiss, and he can't get enough.
When they finally pull back for air, her lips are swollen and she has a starry-eyed smile on her face.
"Goodnight, Harry," YN murmurs softly, pecking his lips one last time before swiping her card and going into her building.
Fucking hell, he was gone for her.
-
He could not stop thinking about her.
Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes squinted when she was teasing him - this had to be what being in love felt like.
Could it be this easy?
As soon as he gets home, he sends her a text.
Thanks for giving me a chance. I really had a great time. Are you free next Friday?
It barely takes any time for her to respond and he finds his lips turning down at her response.
Are you fucking with me?
He decides to take the more cautious route, reading his text conversation, and he doesn't think he said anything wrong.
No? Did I offend you??
Yes.
As soon as he receives the message he's typing out an apology for whatever he might have said to trigger her to be upset but right before he hits send, another text pops in.
Offended you're not asking me to hang out sooner.
Harry totally does not squeal like a school girl as he smiles stupidly at his phone for the next few moments before remebering to actually text back.
I have a game tomorrow and Sunday but we could hang out Monday night x
They agree on that.
-
When the next day comes, he feels more energized than ever to do good on the field today - he always thrived but YN was really boosting his confidence and overall happiness.
He struts on to the field, he always displayed arrogance on the field no matter how he was feeling on the inside - he wanted to intimidate people and let them know that he's the best.
At the mound, he kicks the dirt a bit and adjusts his hat in a little ritual he always did before scanning the crowd - it was always a full house in the stadiums because of him.
His eyes do a quick skim of the crowd but stop when he's sees YN sitting in the stands without her iPad or notepad - she's sitting with a friend.
Harry's heart leaps as he gives a dimply smile that was exclusively for and he tips his cap towards her in greeting.
She blows him an exaggerated kiss and a small wave as the announcers begin the game.
Harry doesn't know if he's ever had a game that good - he had been on fire the whole time, multiple strikeouts, a home-run, and overall good plays.
When the game’s over after the post-game interview and compliments, instead of heading straight to the showers, he wants to talk to YN but she's no longer in the stands.
He tries not to think too hard about it as he goes into the locker room to shower, in a noticeable less than happy mood.
Harry's actually the last one out, he drags his feet getting into the showers, and lets the hot water just hit against his sore muscles.
By the time he gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and stepping over to his duffel - he nearly screams when someone appears in the locker-room.
"What's taking you so long? I've been waiting out there for ages," YN complains with a raised eyebrow, a smirk on her face when she's met with his strong, damp chest - his pec twitches.
"Er," Harry stammers as he stares wide eyed at her, "I didn't think you were waiting for me."
YN shakes her head, "Why wouldn't I? Am I being too subtle about dropping hints that I like you?"
Harry’s chest seizes because he doesn't want her to think that, "No no, it's me. M'sorry I'm fucking this up. I just, yeah..."
I just can't tell you why yet. 
Be patient with me.
"I know you've been with a lot of people, okay? I'm not here to use you and lose you. I want to see where this goes," YN seems frustrated as she explains herself.
"I do too. M'sorry," He apologizes again, the opposite of the cocky asshole she met, "I'm really, really into you."
And you're the first person I've said that to without lying.
"Yeah?" Her words are quiet, bashful as she glances down at her feet for a moment, like she wanted to hear the affirmations from him.
"Of course, you're gorgeous, smart, out of my league, if I'm being honest," He tells her with a raspy chuckle.
"I think you have it backwards," YN murmurs but she's walking towards him, and just like yesterday, kisses him fiercely.
God, he's never going to get tired of this.
He instantly reciprocates her advance, hand moving to the back of her head to cradle her skull and keep her close.
His stomach muscles twitch when her hand comes to his chest, rubbing up and down his abdominal definition, and thumb teasing at his happy trail.
It indescribable how just the simple touch is turning him on, he can feel himself harden at the movement and he can't help but push his tongue into her mouth.
They get startled when a janitor steps into the lockeroom, a tired look on his face when he spots them, "I'm locking up. Get lost, kids."
YN giggles as Harry flushed with embarrassment before she's leaving him to get changed and waiting outside for him to walk her home.
-
The next three weeks were an absolute whirlwind of hanging out in YN's dorm room cuddled together on the tiny bed, watching movies in his room in the frat, Harry stopping by the newspaper office constantly after practice to make sure she ate and then walkingher home, and then on the weekends they were going on dates and YN was coming to watch his games.
He knew that he was in love, he didn't care what anyone had to say about a certain amount of time it took or it was too soon.
Harry had found his person.
The puzzle piece that was missing his whole entire life was wrapped up in a gorgeous girl who bullied him, cuddled him, and gave him attitude when she didn't get her way.
He couldn't imagine anyone better.
There was one major issue, Harry had yet to tell her about his sexuality or the fact that he was a virgin.
He didn't blame her for making assumptions that he had a high body count with the way he flirted at parties - that was in fact the appearance that he was trying to give off even though it was further from the truth.
Harry wanted to tell her but when revealing that he was demisexual that was also telling her that he was head over heels for her.
And even though YN seemed nothing but understanding and accepting, it's different when you're in a relationship with the person.
She doesn't know whether it would matter if he was pansexual, if it would freak her out that he wasn't soley attracted to females.
As much fun as he was having, enjoying this new relationship, there was a lot of anxiety - he hadn't felt this much weight on his chest since high school with Yazmin and prom.
They hadn't gone further than kisses but it wasn't because of lack of arousal, he was so attractive to her that it didn't make sense.
However, up to this point, she hadn't pushed to do anything further than that and he wasn't ready to take the first step either.
It's a standoff until it's not.
YN and Harry are in his frat, they prefered it there for his queen size bed and he had a bigger television that they could binge watch shows on.
It was after a mid-week game, they had done exceptional, and Harry was truly convinced that YN was his good luck charm.
It was late, they both had class tomorrow but YN was sleeping over for the first time because Harry couldn't part with her.
They were in the middle of watching Great British Bake-Off and critiquing their bakes like either of them could do anything close to as good.
YN is tucked into his side, head of his chest but she squirms until she's looking up at him with a frown.
"Whassit?" Harry rumbles as he blinks heavily, his hand coming up to brush her hair out of her face - he couldn't get over how fucking pretty she was.
"Didn't kiss me enough today," YN huffs like she just realized the problem, her bottom lip pouted out.
"Didn't give you enough kisses, huh?" Harry repeats with a raised brow, his thumb coming to pull at her lower lip, "I haven't been very good to you, have I?"
"Absolutely awful boyfriend," YN agrees and everytime she refers to him as that, his stomach flutters.
"Or maybe I've just given it to you too much so now you're a demanding lil' thing," He hums but he's pulling her up so that their lips meet.
Harry can't help that he gets hard everytime they make out, maybe it’s a rookie thing or maybe most guys that's normal for - he wasn't sure.
But Harry and YN had never acknowledged it and as weird as it sounded - it felt good to get hard even if there wasn't relief at that time because it’s more  pleasure and arousal than he's ever felt.
There was no way he wasn’t truly fucked - this girl held everything in her hands, she had so much fucking control over it and she didn't have one fucking clue.
YN's hand is rested on his stomach but at some point she moves it, she moves it right over his bulge in his nike running shorts, and palms at him.
Harry moans embarrassingly loud and sucks in a gasp at the sensation of someone else touching him like this for the first time.
YN pulls back startled like she hurt him and begins to apologize because of his visceral reaction but Harry joins their lips needily before murmuring, "Please baby, don't stop."
"Okay, whatever you want," She simpers quietly, her lips coming to his neck to kiss and nip at the skin as she feels out the shape of him over his thin shorts - thick and ready for her.
Harry is trying to keep his eyes open but it feels so new and euphoric that his lids are heavy as she thumbs over the sensitive tip.
"Take your shirt off," YN requests, not taking her hand off as he rustles hurriedly to get it over his head, "Slow down, we're not in a rush."
It was lightly teasing but it made insecurities tick a bit because he didn't want to embarass himself in his first sexual experience.
His stomach is sucking in at every other touch, his butterfly tattoo dancing as his ribcage outlines against his skin.
Her hand lazily moves upwards again but is taking the liberty of dipping into his shorts and briefs.
He twitches when her hand wraps around him, thumb tracing along the vein on the underside before circling at his already wet tip.
"M'gonna take my time with you," YN promises as she helps him slip the rest of his clothes off, her eyes locking with where he's hard for her.
He feels self-conscious, the first person to see this part of him in this intimate way - it was the most vulnerable he ever felt.
"You're so pretty," She murmurs happily as she begins to give him light strokes, "Makes sense why you have big dick energy. You're massive."
He has to clench his teeth to avoid coming at her words because it was all too much as he kept his hips on the mattress as she twists and tugs with the perfect amount of pressure.
"I-It feels so good, baby," Harry breathes out, he's on the verge of panting when her hand comes to roll his balls delicately.
"Yeah?" YN muses with a devious smile before she's ducking down to lick at the swollen head before suckling at it.
"Fuck, m'sorry," Harry groans as he feels his orgasm start, "S'good, you're so good. Fuck, you're amazin, sweetheart."
He can tell YN is a bit taken aback by his lack of stamina but she swallows as he pulses in her mouth.
When she sits back up, Harry is trying to catch his breath, "I'm so sorry. I just-"
"Stop apologizing," YN tells him firmly, leaning over to pepper kisses over his chest and tummy, "That was perfect. You look so handsome when you come."
Harry preens at the praise, he knows she’s probably just making sure he doesn't fell bad but it seemed genuine.
"Let me take care of you," Harry says after a few more moments, he knew his cheeks were flushed and his chest red with a blush of postorgasm haze and embarassment, what a mixture.
"You any good at it?" She jokes as she playfully licks his nipple before moving to take her own shirt off.
Harry freezes, he knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights before quickly wiping it off his face.
He doesn't respond but instead knocks her hands out of the way to pull the shirt over her head himself.
Her breasts were fucking perfect where they sat in a plain black bra with a little lace detailing on the edge of the cups.
Harry didn't know if he would survive this, he felt like a  stupid teeanger as his hands were shaking with nerves.
This was more nerve-wracking then when he played in the playoffs for baseball or when a college scout came to watch his game.
He sits up and rearranges them until she's laying on her back and he's on top where he feels like he has a bit more control of the situation.
By some grace of god, YN's bra unlatches with a front clip and when he undoes it, it falls to either side and her tits bounce out.
"Holy shit, darling," Harry huffs out in awe, her nipples were already hard and so fucking pretty.
"What?" YN asks in a mere whisper, when he looks up at her - his heart sinks because he was so focused on himself that he didn't even think about how she might be feeling.
It was obvious that YN was a bit nervous too as he revealed her like he might not like how she looks - she’s squirmy and doesn't look him in the eye.
"How are you so fucking beautiful?" Harry shakes his head in disbelief, moving to cup them and they're soft in grip, warm, and good god, he's in love with them already, "Look at you, s'unfair."
YN lets out a pleased giggle and Harry can't wait any longer, he's fucking down to wrap his lips around one of the buds and suckle as his other hand rolls her other nipple.
"Oo-oh," She gasps out, pushing her chest into him, and he was sure that he wanted to hear her moans of pleasure for the rest of his life.
She was responsive to his touch, whimpering and asking for more through her body language as he switched between them and teased them until they were damp and puffy.
"Please, H. I'm so wet," YN begs as her hips move in frustration, her hand weaving into his hair and scratching at his scalp.
"You're wet for me?" Harry pulls back, their eyes meeting and he couldn't believe - he was turning her on even if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.
"Stop teasing me," She demands with a pout.
He really wasn't.
Harry felt like he was in a movie in a way.
He dreamed about this for so long.
Being so in love with someone that he would want to have sex with them.
It happened and it was happening right now.
If it didn't feel so good, he wouldn't believe it.
Harry may or may not have utilized the internet to search about how to please a female.
He hadn't wanted to come into this and not be able to return the favor - it wasn't that he was uneducated about sex or didn't know the logistics of how to do it.
He didn't want it to be just okay.
He wants to show her how much he's truly gone for her by making her feel the same pleasure she's give  to him.
Harry takes his time kissing down her soft belly, biting at the plush on her hips to make her squeak before he's shimmying her shorts and underwear off.
Harry has never felt so primal in his life when he's met with her mound and puffy folds, glistening with arousal, and he wanted to devour her.
The hesitance is gone as soon as he sees her for the first time.
He's spreading her legs and nuzzling straight in between her folds, lapping at her with excited, eager strokes.
Fuck, she even tasted good.
"Harry, fuck," YN mewls when he finds her clit, it wasn't hard with how swollen and hard it was for him - dragging it between his lips and suctioned it.
Her legs are restless like she wants to close them, her hands balling into the sheets as he relentlessly goes at her.
"Oh my god," She gasps as she bucks upwards, trying to ride his tongue - it was by far the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. 
He couldn't believe he was actually doing a good job his first time, he knew she was actually close because he could feel her throbbing and getting wetter for him.
Her hands move to his hair, gripping it to keep him close to her center as she punches her hips up to find the friction she needs - it was beautiful watching her chase her pleasure without any shame.
He wanted to do this with her for the rest of his life and he knew it wasn't just the sex talking at this point.
She was it for him.
His chest swells in pride when she finally tips over the edge, a continuous stream of soft whining moans out of her mouth as her hips slow down and rest back against the bed - her limbs loosening.
Her face was damp with perspiration, long locks stuck to the side of her neck, and her chest was heaving and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.
"That was the best orgasm I've ever had," YN murmurs in awe, goading him back up until they’re kissing in short little pecks and he's brushing that sticky hair off her skin, "You're so good at that."
Harry's internally preening with the compliment, thrilled that he was able to get her off the first time ever doing something like this.
It was dangerous though, he knew already that he was going to crave her, she tasted amazing, it was addictive to be around her.
Everything from her smile to her laugh to the way her folds glistened with her arousal - it was all consuming.
-
Harry knows the longer they're seeing each other that he needs to tell her but the second he tells her about his sexuality, he's basically confessing his love to her.
He begins to feel like he's living this lie because YN occasionally makes a joke about how experienced he is or how many people he'd been with and he doesn't ever deny it.
To be fair, he never confirms it either but that even feels like lying. 
One day while they're at lunch in a little bistro on campus, tucked away in the corner so people don't continuously harass Harry like always.
"I..I shouldn't be surprised at how good you were," YN murmurs shyly, they were talking about last night and when he used his mouth for the first time, "It's just...for me, I've only been with two other guys and it wasn't at all like that."
"They sound like idiots who didn't deserve to give it to you anyways," Harry has to swallow down the possessiveness of two other people having her like that.
She was his.
YN shrugs noncommittal as she sips on her peach tea, "They were okay but not as experienced as you. They hadn't been able to make me, you know...finish."
Cue his chest swelling with pride once again.
YN glances down at her plate, suddenly not making eye contact with Harry and he frowns at that, "What's wrong?"
She shakes her head, letting out a short laugh, "I just feel embarrassed, I guess. I know that I don't have as much experience as you. I've heard the stories of you taking all those girls upstairs at parties. It's not, it doesn't bother me but I...I just worry I'm not going to be good enough or compare."
Harry's heart sinks into his stomach and he knows now would be the absolutely perfect time to actually come clean that all those experiences were fake.
He chokes though, his throat tightens up and he can't find the words but he can reassure her, and he's not lying when he tells her, "Hey, I've never had a better experience than last night and m'not lying. You were amazing, fuckin' perfect. I can still taste how sweet you-"
"Ssh," YN giggles, the mood already lightened again as she chucks a chip at him because she doesn't know if anyone is eavesdropping, "I get it. Thank you."
"Anytime, babydoll," Harry drawls cheekily, exerting confidence when inside he's absolutely panicking.
-
Tonight it is the night.
Harry has nearly canceled three times because he doesn't know if he can do this.
He's so fucking in love with YN.
So fucking gone for her already that he doesn't know how he could lose her if this isn't something she's okay with.
Logically, he knows that if she doesn't accept him for who he is that she's not worth his time but fuck, he loved her.
YN was it for him, he didn't care how early it was or if you’re ot supposed to say that yet because they haven't been together long.
It was the truth though.
Harry wanted to try to make it as casual as possible when he brought it up so he invited her to sleepover after an away game.
He'd organized his room, cleaned his sheets, bought her favorite snacks, and laid out a shirt that she'd want to sleep in.
When she knocked on his bedroom door, one of his mates must have let her in, his hands were physically shaking and his smile was forced through nerves.
"Hi," YN huffs as she brushes past him to drop her overnight bag, "I brought a bag of chips but Niall literally stole them out of my hand and ran away like a little goblin -"
"I have something I need to tell you," Harry blurts out as he quickly shuts the door and leans up against it - he felt like he was about to have a full blown panic attack.
YN freezes from her rant, eyes meeting his with concern at his behavior and his body language, "Is everything okay, H?"
Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and tries to breathe out of his mouth, voice quaking, "I-I don't know."
Fuck, why did he feel like he was going to cry.
"Harry," YN murmurs from where she's sat on his bed now, "You're freaking me out a bit. What's going on?"
"I haven't told you something, important about me," Harry sniffles, he couldn't control the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, and he felt like that scared high schooler all over again, "And I'm scared you won't want to be with me if I tell you."
YN's brow furrows, she doesn't know how to respond because she doesn't know what he's been hiding from her.
"Tell me," She asks softly, her heart was pounding too - she didn't know if he was going to break up with her or tell her he already cheated but she was worried just as much as he was.
"M'not straight," Harry finally whispers, looking down at his feet and avoiding her gaze all together, "I'm pansexual and demisexual. I haven’t been with anyone other than you, ever. God, I know I sound like such a fucking loser."
"Come here," YN responds firmly, her eyes serious and he can't read her expression which makes everything worse as he cries, sniffling and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.
He listens though, cautiously walking until he's in front of her - eyes still looking anywhere but at her.
"Look at me," YN prompts once again, waiting until his watering green eyes finally meet hers, "I love you, no matter what your sexual preference is or how many people you've been with."
"You-You love me?" Harry stutters out with another sob, he felt like such a baby but his heart was fluttering and butterflies were turning his stomach.
"I thought I've made it obvious but yes, I do," YN smiles sweetly, pulling him down to kiss him despite his damp cheeks, "I love you as you are. I accept you as you are. You're perfect."
Harry blinks away his tears, letting her cup his jaw and bring him in for short but soft pecks over and over again.
"I know what pansexual is," YN says against his mouth before pulling back a little, "I don't know what demisexual is."
After Harry gets done explaining to her what his sexuality means to him, what he defines as being demi sexual - he's alarmed when he notices tears in YN's eyes now.
"I'm- Are you-" Harry begins to ask but she cuts him off.
"I'm your person?" YN repeats his words from earlier, she sounds like she’s a bit in disbelief that this is all happening.
"You’re my person," Harry agrees, kissing her forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, "I'm so in love with you. It's only ever been you. Only ever will be."
"I love you," YN gasps against his lips, bringing him in for another kiss but this time it's more heated with more purpose behind it as she pulls him down on top of her.
YN and Harry are equally frantic as they tug off each other's shirts, lips wandering over bare skin, and YN whines loudly when his lips wrap around her nipples and suck at them.
She's hurriedly pushing his shorts and briefs off his hips before allowing him to nearly rip her panties with the eagerness to have her bare.
As Harry's mouth teases at her breasts, switching between harden buds and nipping at them - her hands are twined tightly in his hair and holding him to her.
His cock is painfully hard, wet at the tip as he grinds it against her mound - the friction already good.
On one thrust, his length slips through her folds and his swollen head is pumping at her clit - making them both let out a surprised moan at the sensation.
"Need it," YN whines as he pumps his hips, the wet slide against her core was new to him but it felt like heaven, "Please, H."
And he knew what she was asking, he wanted to give it to her but he was scared that it wasn't going to be good.
"It's my first time," Harry mumbles embarrassedly, even though he had already admitted that to her, "I don't know how long I'll last,"
YN wriggles her hips, hissing in pleasure when his cock drags against her slit, teasing at pushing in before pulling away. 
"It's okay, baby," She assures him, petting at his hair, "I just want you, please. I don't care how long you last, just want you. Want to make you mine."
Want to make you mine.
Holy fucking shit.
"Yeah," Harry rasps, voice deeper than ever, feeling a building up in confidence at how bad she wanted him right now.
He was so used to being the best at everything.
He was the best baseball player in the college leagues.
He was the best pitcher to ever attend Duke.
He was the first person to get an MLB draft pick before graduation.
He wasn't used to not being confident in hai abilities but he truly felt the love radiating from YN and knew that she just wanted him however she could get him.
Harry takes a deep breath, hand shaking as he grips himself, positioning at her entrance, and when he pushes in - he knows he moans loud enough that the whole house will be able to hear him.
"Shit, baby," Harry mewls as he drops his head down to take a deep breath before moving, "You feel so good. Fuckin' hell."
"H, move please," YN begs as she wraps her legs around his hips, "You're so big. Feels amazing, please honey."
Harry nods, one more deep breath before he's pulling out nearly to his tip before thrusting back in - the hot, velvet of her walls squeezing him and it was surely what euphoria felt like.
He can feel his orgasm already brimming over and it couldn't have been more than a minute or two - between the feeling around his cock, how pretty the noises she's making are, and the way her tits jiggle with every stroke - he can't last.
"M'sorry," Harry groans as his stomach starts to tense, "M'coming, you feel so good. You're gonna make me come."
With that, he's speeding up and pounding in harder than before - YN’s hand reaches down to rub expertly at her clit until she's clenching up around him and whimpering as her thighs shake.
Harry pulls out after a moment, ducking to grab his discarded tee shirt to clean them both up - he knows his cheeks are twinged pink with embarrassment.
"Hey," YN giggles, grabbing his attention and squishing his cheeks between her hands as she grips his chin, "Don't get all shy on me now."
"M'not being shy," Harry pouts as his words are muffled from his cheeks being smooshed, "I just look like a dickhead, I just came in a fuckin' minute."
YN rolls her eyes, fuck she's so pretty, her skin was literally glowing, "So what? Just means we get to practice more."
Harry chuckles, already feeling the tension ease form his chest, "For the rest of our lives. I only want this with you, ever. My body is yours."
"And I will always love it," YN murmurs more seriously, forehead pressed against his, "I love you for you. I accept you for you. You’re perfect and you're enough."
And after this, Harry never ever doubts that YN is the one for him - not in a few days or a decade when they're married and have four little babies running around that look just like him.
-
You are never alone.
There is always someone ready to listen, there is no struggle too little or too big.
The world needs you here.
Trans Crisis Line
LGBTQIA+ Crisis Talk, Chat, or Text
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gumballavocadoharry · 2 months
Text
Pet names Harry calls you; Headcanons:
Baby: To him you are like a baby. He squishes your cheeks with kisses and rubs your face with his hands. It's an intimate word he uses with you because you're his.
Doll: Your face is like a doll's. Beautiful, round and unique. You can make dolly eyes and these shiny lips that felt fluttery pressing against Harry's cheek. Your face is so innocent, making Harry want to let his fingers graze over your soft skin.
Angel: Your innocence and honesty makes you an angel to him. Sweet, kind, brave and sensitive is more than Harry would imagine in a woman and to him, you're heaven's sent gift to him.
Bunny: Your energy. You go from one place to the next, and you're always willing to go with Harry on any tour or vacation or adventure. Harry loves the time he spends with you, and feels incredibly lonely when you're not there.
Honey: Your sweetness makes Harry attracted to you. He stops to think of you just to smile. A dull day can feel bright when Harry's with you.
Kitten: Like a cat, so careful and cautious, yet curious and delicate, Harry sees you like this. He wants to hold you in his arms, caress your hair and snuggle his nose to your face. Just cuddling you tightly, not ever wanting to let go.
Love: Basic, he loves you to death. You're the love of his life and his everything.
Sweetheart/Sweetie: Your precious to Harry. Almost childlike but mature for him. Harry likes to wrap you in this protective grasp while you're both in bed or on the couch. He sees his future in you as his wife. You're his sweetie, his girlfriend, his life.
Princess: A true princess in his eyes. Beautiful and posh. Harry would take you in his arms and dance with you in the living while calling you princess; looking deep into your eyes and kissing you passionately.
Beautiful: He greets you with "Hey beautiful," in the morning, even with the mud mask or eye mask on your face, your hair messy and your voice raspy. Harry kisses your cheek before hopping from the bed and making breakfast for you and him.
Darling: A treasure to Harry. You're his darling, a person who he holds dear to him. Harry calls you this when you need to hear it the most.
Love bug: A cute fun nickname Harry says to express those fluttery feelings he has towards you. He'll rub your nose and repeat it over and over with a cooing tone, smothering your face in millions of kisses.
Boo boo: A pet name that makes you blush when said in public at a party. A drunk Harry will loudly say it at a party, lengthening it to "boo boo bear" and ask you for kisses. It somewhat embarrasses you, when Harry's clingy to you and expects you to hold his hand and he just puckers kisses to your little cheeks. It does give you this warm flush of love more than embarrassment.
Pumpkin: Harry sees you little. You're smaller than him and he dominates you in height. He smushes your cheeks in his hands and will baby you just to see you frown a little. Then he'll kiss the crinkles on your forehead and say "I love you."
Sugar: When Harry's in a romantic mood, he'll say it yo summon you to the bedroom. He'll whisper in your ear and pick you up and take you to bed.
Baby girl: You're his baby. Whether you like it or not, Harry sees you as a little bean and he'll protect you and baby you for love. Had a bad day at work? Harry will rub your feet and sing for you. Sick in bed with the flu? Expect doctor Harry to feed you soup and cuddle you along with your warm blankets.
Flower: Harry tells you how he would wish on dandelions for someone like you. His wish came true months later.
Cupcake: One of your favorite desserts, Harry calls you this when he thinks of cupcakes, he thinks of you. He'll walk past a bakery and see chocolate cupcakes frosted with purple or blue frosting and immediately thinks of you which is how you end up with a dozen cupcakes on your desk at home.
Muffin: One of his favorite treats. Your his muffin when he bakes soft gooey chocolate chip muffins for the morning to go along with your oatmeal or yogurt. He adds sweet little notes to them like: I'll be at the studio all day, muffin. Don't forget your lunch for work.
Buttercup: When Harry's feeling extra lovey dovey, he calls you this when he needs to protect you. He knows your a sweets addict and will buy you bunches of treats to make you happy.
Bon bon: Like a chocolate bon bon, Harry sees you like this little sweet treat that blast flavor into your mouth. So creamy and sweet but not too rich.
Teddy Bear: When Harry's away, he dreams of you and craves to hold you like a teddy bear. He imagines holding your hand in his and feeling the skin of your body pressed against his. The smell of you lingers through him and he just wants you to be like a teddy to him to sleep with at night.
Poppet: Like a poppy seed, Harry is fiercely protective of you and will throw himself in to keep you safe.
Cookie: When you're eating cookies, Harry will call you this as a play on word.
Babe: You're his baby girl, he tells you this when you fall asleep on his bare chest, tracing his butterfly tattoo with your finger. His fingers comb through your hair and he just listens to the sound of your breathing in and out with the sync of his heartbeat.
Gorgeous: When you don't feel pretty, Harry will tell you otherwise and tell you all the features of you that he finds enticingly beautiful.
Wifey: When Harry decides to finally keep you forever, he'll hit one knee and ask you to be his wife. You'll say yes and share the promises of your rings together and live happily as husband and wife.
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harriet13lovely · 7 months
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Lola- HS
Part 1- 6-7k words
Lola's whole purpose in life was to be the wife of the Don of the biggest Mafia in the world. Ever since she was a little girl she was told about Harry and how they would make the perfect couple when they got married later on life. Lola didn't know much about Harry himself, she had only heard story's about him and had had dinners with him and his family ever since she turned 15 four years ago. They were never allowed to talk outside of these dinners though, Lola was still too young and Harry was already too busy for anything apart from work.
Since she was to be Harry's wife, his family had always provided for her. They made sure she was placed in the best schools and had all the best pieces of clothing and makeup. Harry's mom would take her shopping once a month for anything she could want. Once she turned 16 she was given a credit card that was funded by Harry, it had no limit so she could spend as much money as she wanted. Lola rarely ever used it, her parents gave her money too so she found no interest in spending Harry's money.
Lola was as of three hours ago officially 19. She had been awoken by knock on the door at around 8:30. It was her mother and father, they had breakfast and a boquete of flowers with them. After congratulating her they talked for a while as she ate breakfast. At 9 her parents left her to begin getting ready, Lola took a shower and did her skincare. Once she was done she walked out of her room and took a look out her window. Her party was being set up outside in the garden of her house. She could see her mother talking with the party organizers and one of the contractors that had provide all the utilities.
"Come in." She said after hearing a knock on the door. She turned around as the door opened and found her little brother standing there. He was still in his pjs and looked like he had just woken.
"What's up?" Lola asks him but gets no response, instead he walks over to her and wraps his arms around her waist. He was only 8 and was incredibly affectionate. Still too innocent to the world they lived in.
"Happy Birthday." He says and looks up at her.
"Thank you." She bends down and picks him up. Even though he was getting bigger and taller by the day, to Lola he was still a baby. She was 11 when he was born and she very much saw him as her own kid. He wrapped his arms around her neck and legs around her waist.
"I heard that you're leaving." He whispers.
"Who told you that?"
"Dad was talking about it over the phone. I don't want you to leave." He hugs her tighter and it makes Lola want to cry, the last thing she wants to do is to leave him alone. But she truly has no choice, Harry would most likely propose to her at the party and she would have to say yes. After that she would have to move in with Harry and plan the wedding with him.
"I won't lie and say that I'm not leaving because I am. But I will be here every weekend with you, mom, and dad. You won't even notice I'm gone." She walks over to her bed and sits the both of them down.
"It won't be the same." James says and begins crying.
"James, I will always be your big sister and you will always be my baby brother. I'm always gonna be here for you Jamsie." Lola wipes the tears that where falling from James's eyes.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Lola played him a movie on her TV while she got ready for the day. She had changed right after her shower into cream shorts and a navy blue jumper. She let James "do" her makeup in hopes it would cheer him up. And it did, he became a giggling mess after smudging a lot of blush all over her nose.
"Lo, Emma is here." Her mom said as she opened the door to her bedroom. Emma was Harry's mom, she had been involved in Lola's life since she was a baby. She cleaned off the blush from her nose and put on her shoes.
Lola walked downstairs to the living room and found Emma sitting there talking with the organizer of her party who looked rather stressed. She felt bad for the man, the pressure he must feel from her mom and Emma must be getting to him.
"There's the birthday girl!" Emma stands up and wraps her arms around the girl. "Happy birthday, Lola."
"Thank you."
"We need to get some last minute confirmation on the music you would like to be played." The organizer said and pointed to her notebook. Lola took a seat next to him and begin to list off some songs she would for sure want to be played. They spent half an hour doing that, after that she was directed outside to personally inspect the decorations in the tables and the food that would be served later on.
"Harry is coming, right?" She asked Emma as they where watching people put the flower arrangements together.
"Of course, he wouldn't miss it for the world." Emma gives her an encouraging smile and wraps her arm around her shoulder.
Lola continues to supervise the whole set up with Emma until she is sent off for lunch at 12. She eats some pasta and chicken and watches some TV with James and her dad. At 1:30 the crew that was doing her makeup and hair arrived to begin to get her ready for the evening. She would be having two different outfit changes, a pale yellow minie dress and a baby pink long flowy dress. The shorter dress would be used during the cocktail/ day side of her party, the longer dress would be used during the night time of the party. Both of these dresses had been chosen in between Lola, Emma, and Lola's mother.
The party would officially start at 5 but they wanted Lola to be ready by 4 so she could take pictures with her family before the party. Her hair was curled into beach waves and her makeup was mostly glittery and with soft pastel tones in the corner of her eyes. Her heels are plain white and had some pearls on the straps.
"You look perfect." Emma says as he looks at her. Emma was now changed and ready to go for the party too. Her blonde hair was put into a half up half down style and her sage green dress looked absolutely stunning on her.
"Thank you, you look amazing too."
"There is someone for you downstairs."
Emma had a cheeky smile on her face so that could only mean one thing, Harry. Lola walks down the stairs and in fact finds Harry in the living room talking to her father. He was wearing a dark blue, almost black, suit with a loose white shirt underneath. He had his usual cross necklace dangling around his neck and a pair of black sunglasses pulling back his curls. He stands up from his seat and walks towards her.
"Happy Birthday." He says to her and gives her a quick hug. Even with heels she was still shorter than him so she had to look up at him a bit to meet his eyes.
"Thank you."
"You two look so cute together." Anna, one of Lola's younger cousin's, said. This earned her a slap on the arm by her mother but that didn't take the smile off of her face. Harry's and Lola's "love" was something that people in the mafia looked up to. They were meant to be the perfect match, this was at least what they showed to the others. In reality, Lola didn't even know Harry's favorite color or ice cream flavor.
"Can I take some pictures of you two outside?" A man with a camera asked them. Harry nods and leads Lola to the garden.
Lola stands beside Harry as they take pictures. His right arm wrapped around her waist. They had never been this close before, the most they ever got to was sitting next to each other during dinner. They take a couple more pictures before Harry leaves to take a business call. Lola took some solo pictures and with her family before heading back inside so she can welcome the guests as they come in.
Lola doesn't see Harry again until dinner is served at 7. Harry took a seat next to her in the head table where only close family was sitting at.
"I like this dress more." He whispers into her ear, she was now wearing her pink dress. The dress made her look like one of those fairytale princess and Harry really liked that. Lola smiles up at him, she was hoping he would like her dresses.
"I'm glad." Harry shifted on his seat and that's when she saw it. Inside his pocket was a small white box, he really was going to do it that night. Lola felt her heart stop for a minute, she had been expecting it but now that it was really happening it scared her quite a bit. Once they got engaged the wedding would be close to come and as soon as that happens they would begin to try for children. Her duty was to provide Harry and the mafia with an heir. Same way that Emma provided Harry as heir she would too. It was all dawning on her too quickly to the point she begin to feel like she was suffocating. Her heartbeat was the only thing she could hear and the room felt too warm for her comfort.
"I'm going to use the restroom." She stands up and walks towards the house quickly. She manages to get to her room before she fully starts to hyperventilate. She sits on the edge of her bed and holds onto her mattress. She hadn't even noticed she was crying until a knock on the door took her out of her trance.
"I'll be out in a sec." She says to whoever was outside.
"It's Harry." He doesn't wait for any sort of response before opening the door and walking into the room. He had never been in her room before so this was a completely new environment for him. She had a lot of posters and vinyls all over her walls. He also noticed that the dominating colors where white and pink.
"Oh, hey." Lola says as she wipes her tears.
"What's wrong?"
"It's nothing, I'm just being stupid."
"You're not, and I can tell that there is something wrong."
"I saw it, the... the box."
"Oh." Harry doesn't really know how to respond, he thought it was to be expected for him propose that day.
"Can I see it?" She asks, Harry hums and takes the box out of pocket. He opens it before passing it Lola. The stone on the ring was large and shiny, something that would definitely make Lola stand out.
"It's beautiful." Lola says to Harry.
"If you don't want to get engaged today I can switch the date." Harry tells her but Lola immediately shakes her head and gives him the ring back.
"No, it's okay. We should head back down." Lola tells him and stands up. Harry follows after her as they walk downstairs. Right as they are about to walk to the garden Harry grabs Lola by the arm and pulls her back.
"You sure you want to do this?" Harry asks her.
"Yeah."
They walk back into the party, Lola putting on a big smile and Harry going back to his usual stoic face. They eat dinner and chat with the people around them, Lola stands up and begins to walk around the tables making sure that everyone is having a good time. At around 8:30 everyone was finished with their dinners. Lola was talking with one of her cousins back at her original table when Harry stood up to make a toast and called her over to the dance floor. It was go time.
"I would like to make this toast to congratulate my girlfriend on her birthday. You deserve the world and more Lola. I hope we have many more birthdays like this together. Because of that I would like to ask you something." Harry got on one knee and pulled out the box from his jacket. "Would you like to marry me?"
"Yes!" Lola almost yelled before jumping up and down. She was told by her mother to overreact if she had to but to look as happy as possible. Harry stood up and put the ring on her finger before pulling her into a hug. The guests all clapped and cheered for them.
Lola and Harry walked around the party together and accepted all the good wishes they received from members of the Mafia. They decided on cutting the cake after that so they could really party for the rest of the night. Her cake was of multiple layers and pink with gold stars all over them. The candles where pink with gold swirls and there was a candle in the number 19 in the middle. They all sang happy birthday for her and Lola was told to make her wish. She wished for her future marriage to go well, if it did, by her next birthday she should be pregnant or with her baby already.
Once everyone ate their cake they all took to the dance floor. Harry of course refused Lola's attempts at pulling him to the dance floor, saying that he didn't know how to dance as the main excuse. Lola however knew that was a lie, she had seen him years ago at parties when he was in his late teens/early twenties and he was always dancing with someone. Harry watched Lola and the rest of the members dancing for the next couple hours. Enjoying a few drinks here and there as a form of distraction.
"You sure you don't want to dance?" Lola asks Harry as she takes a seat next to him. Harry looked bored and she was just trying to make him feel more welcomed into the party.
"No, I think I'm gonna head out. Have a couple meetings early tomorrow." He says and stands up.
"Already? It's barely midnight." Lola tells him, was he really that bored?
"Work's my priority and like I said I have early meetings tomorrow."
"By meetings you mean drug deals or gun trafficking? I'm glad to know my birthday means that little to you." Lola says with a scoff.
"I would have expected you to have better manners considering how much money I have spent on your education." He says and begins to walk away. Lola is now feeling the bravery of the alcohol and decides to go after him.
"I would have expected you to care more about me since I'm your future wife after all."
"I do care." They where farther out in the garden and right outside her house.
"Whatever makes you sleep better at night."
"Lola I'm not going to argue with you right now."
"I wish you would."
"Why would you? Do you want to be on my bad side, is that it? Or are you just that much of an attention seeking whore that any sort of attention makes you feel good?" Harry says and gets up close to Lola's face. Lola however stands her ground, keeping eye contact the whole time.
"I just want to get to know you."
"We can do that some other time, I really gotta go now." He walks away once again, this time Lola doesn't follow him.
….
Lola and Harry had managed to avoid each other for a week before they where forced back together. Emma had suggested they visited Harry after having lunch together so they could begin talking about some details of the wedding. Lola had tried to convince Emma of not going but after some insisting on Emma's part, Lola gave in.
"Good evening." Collin, Harry's assistant, said as the elevator opened. Harry had a whole floor to himself and his close people. The building had over 50 floors, each directing a different branch of Harry's "business".
"Mr Styles will be with you in a second. Is there anything I could get you to drink?"
"Can I get some tea?" Emma asks him politely.
"I'll just do some water." Lola tells him and he nods before walking inside a different room. Lola watches him leave and come back with the two drinks. She grabs her water and thanks him. Collin walks back to his desk but stands back up after a beeping sound is heard.
"Mr Styles is ready to see you." He opens the big black door that leads to Harry's office. Emma walks ahead of her and sets her drink down before hugging Harry.
"Good evening, darling." Emma tells her son softly.
"Good evening, mum." Harry hugs her back slightly. Harry looks up and finds Lola standing just a couple feet from where he was. She was wearing a black turtleneck, white miniskirt and black platform boots. A black leather purse hanging from her right arm. Her hair was down and mostly straight. She looked stunning even in a simple outfit. The ring was however the most noticeable thing in the outfit, it was shiny and large.
"Lola." He said with a nod of his head.
"Hey." She takes a seat on the couch area in Harry's office. Emma walks over, pulling Harry along, and sits down in front of her.
"We are here to talk about the wedding." Emma says excitedly, Harry looks at Lola and they make eye contact. They keep it for a couple seconds before Lola looks away.
"You guys can choose the stuff, my only request would be that it's held in my house." Harry tells them.
"That's it?" Lola asks him.
"Yeah, it can all be to your choosing. It's supposed to be your day after all."
"It's not just mine, it's our day. Our wedding day at that." Lola was questioning if he even wanted to slightly get married at all.
"I know that, but the decorations can be of your choosing. If there is any input to be given from my side my mother or sister can choose it."
"So you really don't care about anything?"
"I'm gonna leave you two for a minute." Emma stands up and walks out the office.
"It's not that I don't care, I just think it's better if you take care of it." Harry says as soon as his mom closes the door to his office. Lola rolls her eyes and looks as far away from him as she could.
"No, you just don't care." She stares blankly.
"Okay, Lola. You can think whatever you would like. If that's all you were here for you may leave."
"Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?!" Lola yelled.
"I'm not, this is just the way our marriage will work. I'm sorry if this is not what you wanted, trust me it's not what I wanted either." At that Lola felt tears brim her eyes, she never really thought he would outright state his dismay against the arrangement.
"Then choose another wife." She tells him and walks out of the room. Purposefully slamming his door in the process. Lola feels Emma following after her to the elevator. Once they got in and the door close Emma spoke up,
"I'm so sorry, darling." Emma hugged her side. "Know that I will be talking to him very seriously later tonight."
"Please don't, If he wants to move on with our marriage he can talk to me on his own. I don't want you to have to be a mediator between us."
"It's truly no bother but I respect your wishes. Just know that I will always have your back no matter what, I was once in your position after all."
"Thank you, it truly means a lot." Lola told the woman and hugged her tight. She doesn't know what she would do without Emma.
"Of course, darling. Let's get you home now, I think you've had enough for today."
Emma dropped Lola off at her house and they said their goodbyes.
"I'm home!" She yelled as she walked through the door and dropped her bag in the couch.
"Lo!" James yelled and ran towards her. Lola bend down and picked him up spinning him around the air.
"I missed you."
"I missed you more, Jamesie. How was football?" Lola asked him and placed him back down on the ground.
"Good! My coach said I am improving so much. I might be getting moved up with the older boys." James explained as they walked towards the kitchen together.
"That's amazing, I'm so proud of you. Do you want a snack?" Lola asked him and he hummed.
"Strawberries and Nutella?" He asked with puppy eyes.
"Sure, but don't tell mom."
"My lips are sealed." He 'zipped' his mouth and threw away the 'key'.
Once she made him his snack she guided him through a bit of his homework before going upstairs to get changed. Her outfit was getting quite uncomfortable and there was not point in wearing it anymore since she wasn't going out. She changed into a pajama bodysuit with long sleeves. It was one of her personal favorites, mainly because the patter was of little pink flowers. She washed of her makeup and brushed her hair. Once she was done she put on her Ugg boots and walked down to the living room.
"Almost done?" She asked James who hummed.
"Just have math left, it's what I'm working on."
"Confused or doing good?"
"I'm good."
Once James was done with his homework they went upstairs to the family room and watched some movies together as they played UNO. At around 7 their parents came back home and they all ate dinner together. Lola helped the maids wash some of the dishes and clean up the table after being dismissed from dinner. It was a bit of a normal occurrence for her to do so. She enjoyed talking to the girls who worked at her house, they where all quite a bit older than her but they where still pretty close. She was talking with Brooke, who was 25 and the youngest of the maids, when another one of the maids interrupted them.
"Mrs Lola, there is someone here for you."
"Who is it?" She asked as she dried her hands off and took off the apron she had been wearing.
"Mr Styles, he was quite persistent on seeing you." The maid responded her in a dreamy voice, it seemed that everyone was in love with Harry.
"Wish me luck." Lola told Brooke who gave her a thumbs up. She walked out to the living room and was shocked at what she was seeing. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a large orange sweater, and off white tennis shoes. She had never seen him look so normal in all the time she had known him. If she saw him on the street she would have never guessed he was the don of a mafia. To add more to the strangeness he had a bouquet of pink roses with white baby breath and a couple other kinds of pink flowers.
"Harry?"
"Hey." He felt his breath be knocked out when he looked up at her. She looked adorable and comfortable in her pjs.
"These are for you." He walked over to her and handed her the flowers.
"Thank you. Sophia?" The maid came out of the kitchen and waited for what she was going to be asked to do. "Could you do me the favor of putting this in water, please?"
"Of course, Mrs Lola." Lola handed her the flowers.
"Thank you." Lola waited until Sophia was back in the kitchen before turning back to Harry.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was hoping we could talk, in private." Harry told her and motioned towards the kitchen. He was sure the maids where overhearing the whole conversation.
"I trust them, but we can go to the library if you'd like."
"I was hoping we could go to your bedroom, it's a more familiar environment to you." Harry explained and Lola gave him a strange look.
"Uhm, sure. It's this way." She led him upstairs and to her room. She walked in, Harry behind her, and took a seat on her bed.
"I'm gonna close the door if that's okay."
"Sure." She begin to fiddle with one of her pillows as she watched Harry close the door and take a seat in-front of her.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"About what you said earlier, about me getting another wife." He explained and Lola felt even more confused then she was before.
"I'm not doing an open marriage if that's what you want." Lola said sternly causing Harry to immediately shake his head.
"No, it's just- if you weren't to be my wife, what would you want to do? Like a career or something."
"I'm not sure, perhaps study fashion design. In Milan or Paris, it was my childhood dream." She continued to pick on her pillow and avoid as much eye contact with Harry as she could.
"I can make that happen for you." Harry stated simply.
"How? I'm supposed to marry you in a few months and give you a kid."
"I would call off the engagement." Lola looked at him like he was a ghost.
"As great as that sounds, we can't do that. I can't do that to my family."
"I can, I am the don. I can change the rules if I want to, and don't worry about your family. They will still be under my protection for as long as they live. Including you too of course."
"But-"
"I can and will find a way around anything. But I will only break it off if you want to. I won't ruin your life like that, Lo."
"I- I don't know. I guess Paris sounds nice but I'm not sure I want that."
"I know it's hard but I don't want you to be miserable with me. And from what I can tell we aren't very compatible. Perhaps it would be for the best, you deserve a husband that lives up to your dreams, that will treat you like the princess you are." Harry places a hand on her leg and pats it. Lola felt a couple tears fall from her eyes.
"Okay." She simply says.
"Okay what?"
"We can break off the engagement." She wipes her tears and looks outside through her windows.
"Are you sure?" He asks her and Lola hums before removing his hand from her leg and standing up.
"Lola, don't leave please." He said as he watched her walk towards her bathroom.
"I just need a minute." Harry stands up and follows behind her. He watched her rest her hands on the sink and look at her face in the mirror. More tears where falling from her eyes every passing second. Harry couldn't just stand there and watch so he did the next best thing. He walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her. This just cause Lola to cry more, in all honesty she didn't know why she was crying. She didn't love him but a part of her wanted for him to love her. She had this image in her head where once they where married they would both fall in love with each other, and just like that their fairytale would begin.
"Shhh, it's okay." He held her up and rubbed his arm up and down softly.
"I just- I- I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do."
"Sit down." He sat her down on the toilet and bended down in front of her.
"It's okay, just breath. In and out, in and out. You're doing so good." He held her hand until she started to breath more normally.
"Why don't you want to marry me?" She asked with a little sob at the end.
"It's for the best, Lola. Like I said, we are not compatible."
"So it's my personality?"
"It's not just you, it's me too. We clash all the time, you won't be happy with me darling." He ran his fingers through her hair softly.
"And you won't be happy with me either."
"I won't." It breaks Harry's heart to say it and Lola's heart to hear it.
"I'm sorry." She said and looked at him in the eyes for the first time.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I do, my duty was to be everything you would want and I failed. I failed you and everyone else."
"You didn't fail me or anyone. You are a lovely girl, Lola. And I'm sure you will be a lovely bride one day but it just can't happen with me." He explained to her in the softest voice he could muster. He hadn't realized how fucked up this whole thing must be for her. He was taking away her whole birth purpose without any warning.
"Can I ask you something?" Lola asked him.
"Anything."
"Is there someone else that you are interested in? I totally understand if you are, I would rather know now."
"There's no one Lola, you've been the closest I've gotten to any sort of formal relationship."
"That's a bit weird, don't you think? I mean we barely know each other, I don't even know your favorite color."
"Orange and blue, those are my favorites. Thats why I'm wearing them right now."
"Pink and gold are mine."
"I sort of guessed that one by looking at your room." Harry laughed and Lola rolled her eyes playfully at him.
"It is kind of obvious." She admitted and Harry nodded. They didn't say anything for a couple seconds, the atmosphere felt warm and comfortable to the both of them.
"I should go now." Harry stood up and extended his hand for Lola to take.
"Okay."
"Come on, I'm not leaving you in the toilet." Lola took his hand and stood up. Harry lead her to her bed and lifted up the comforter so she could get underneath the covers.
"Thank you."
"It's my pleasure, go to bed soon."
"I will."
"And I will let my parents and your parents know that we are not getting married anymore."
"No, can we tell them together? Your parents have been in my life for so long, I love them so much too. I want to be able to tell them too."
"Okay, I'll organize a dinner for Friday. Invite our families and a couple close friends."
"Yeah, that works."
"I'll call you tomorrow for some other details. Take care of yourself, Lola. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Harry walked out of her room and closed the door behind him. As soon as he made it to the stairs he felt his legs give out on him a little. He took a seat on the top step and rests his head on his hands. He felt so oddly empty, even though he didn't feel much for Lola, apart of a small attachment, letting her go stung his heart. She had been a comfort to him his whole life even though they had never had talked at all. When life got bad he always knew he would have her at the end, they where meant for one another. Now that was done and over with. No more Harry and Lola, the best match the mafia had ever seen, everything had been perfect. Until now.
"Are you a robber?" He heard the voice of a little boy behind him.
"No, do I look like one?" He asked the young boy.
"No, you look more like a pumpkin." The boy giggled and Harry chuckled
"You are James, right? Lola's little brother?"
"Yeah." He took a seat on the stairs next to Harry.
"Are you her boyfriend?"
"Yeah." He decided it would be better to not confuse the little boy on all the small details.
"Can I have a room in your house once you get married?"
"Sure, but why do you want a room?"
"So I can stay there all the time, have sleepovers like I do all the time with Lola now." James explained to Harry.
"I will make sure you have a room all for yourself then."
"Thank you, that works as great bribery to me so I officially like you now. I hate you for taking Lola away but I like you for getting me a room. I will like you even more  if you get me a new LEGO."
"New LEGO, got it. Have a good night James."
"Good night, Lola's boyfriend." James stood up and went back to his room.
Once walking down the stairs he made his way outside. His car was waiting for him in the front of the house. His car was red Ferrari and one of his personal favorites of his collection. The drive back to his house was of about 20 minutes, he used to be closer when he lived in his parent's house. His mom had advices him he bought a house close to Lola in case of an emergency but he had refused. At the time he was still incredibly against the idea of marrying Lola. He was only 24 and felt disgusted by the idea of marrying someone. Now that he was older he hoped he had listened to his mom, it would have been easier to keep and eye on Lola and his family. They where under his protection after all, he would rather die than have any of them be hurt because of him.
He drove up the long driveway, saying hi to his guards in the process. He walked inside the house and headed to his room right away. He wasn't in the mood to eat dinner or do any work. He took off his shoes and pants before laying down on his bed. He rolled around a bit before finding a comfortable position. Somehow he ended up with a pillow hugged to his chest. Harry buried his head deep into the pillow and closed his eyes. He would never admit it to anyone but he thought of Lola, the way she would feel as they cuddled during the night. She would play with his hair and he would hold her so close to him he would be able to feel every inch of her on him. If she was pregnant he would be rubbing at her tummy all night making sure that their baby was safe. That thought on its own sent him down a spiral. But now that can't happen, he had pushed her away too far this time. Their future was simply nonexistent.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
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romantiqueofthemind · 2 years
Text
JUST SAW THE PREMIERE OF DONT WORRY DARLING AND LET ME TELL YOU
YOURE ABOUT TO GET A WHOLE LOT OF DOMESTIC HARRY AND HUSBAND HARRY!
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stylessupremacy · 2 years
Note
Hey! Would you be up for a blurb with CEO!harry? Yn getting sick in the middle of the night after attending the after party with her CEO husband?
Word Count: 700+
Warnings: Language & Sickness
If you liked this piece please reblog, recommend, like, and talk to me about this piece! This is what motivates and makes me want to write! :)
Harry and Y/n had an important dinner tonight they had to attend. Well, Y/n didn’t have to attend but she had nothing better to do and decided to join her husband.
Arriving at the luxurious restaurant - Harry gave the hostess his name and was immediately escorted to the private section where the dinner would be taking place.
The possible businessman stood in the presence of Harry and immediately shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles,” he greeted.
Y/n shook their hands as well, “Y/n Styles. Nice to meet you,” Y/n said kindly even though she didn’t miss the confused look in his eyes - probably wondering why the ruthless CEO would bring his barbie doll wife who brought nothing to the table with him to the dinner.
-
The business dinner went seemingly well or as well as it could considering Harry didn’t give a damn about what that twat had to say. The more he spoke, the dumber he sounded and Harry just wanted to go home.
“Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom,” Y/n excused herself politely and made her way to the restrooms.
“I know you aren’t going to make a deal with me Styles, but I just have to ask, why’d you bring your wife? I mean all she did was make me hard,” the businessman asked with a glint of humor in his eyes - thinking he was funny when he should really be scared after what he said.
All Harry could see was red, he had no right to disrespect his wife like that - she owned just as much of the company as he did and she had just as much of a right to make decisions as Harry did.
“M’definitely not going to make a deal with you after you just disrespected my wife and the co-owner of the company.” The businessman's face paled quickly but Harry wasn’t done yet, “Get your facts straight before you come asking me to make a deal with you when you don’t even realize who the owners are. Y’dumb twat.”
And with that, Harry stood up, grabbed Y/n’s purse, and met her outside the exit to the restrooms. “Everything okay H?” Y/n questioned since she knew the business dinner was done sooner than expected and Harry had a crease in his brows.
“M’fine. The dumbass just said something that ticked me off,” Y/n let it go knowing Harry handled it. Once the couple was ready they made their way out of the restaurant and headed home.
Upon arriving home both Harry and Y/n had a long day so they both got undressed and ready for bed. They instantly cuddled up together and fell asleep.
-
Harry woke up in the middle of the night cold. He moved over to cuddle Y/n but realized she wasn’t in bed, probably making Harry cold since they always cuddle when they sleep.
Harry begrudgingly got up from bed and made his way over to the bathroom where the light was on. Walking into the bathroom he definitely didn’t expect to see her hunched over the toilet puking up her dinner up.
Harry quickly moved to Y/n and held her hair back for her whilst rubbing her back and comforting her, “Oh darling, why didn’t y’wake me?” Harry asked with sleep laced in his voice. “Didn’t want to be a bother,” Y/n spoke quickly before hurling back into the toilet.
Harry kissed her sweaty yet clammy neck, “You’d never be a bother to me. Do anything for you, my love.” Harry continued cooing sweet nothings to Y/n comforting her in any way he could.
“Thank you, Harry,” Y/n said as he handed her a towel and a bottle of water so she could get the disgusting taste out of her mouth. “Of course darling,” Harry said sweetly and kissed her on the head.
Harry put Y/n back in bed and made sure she was all situated making sure she had a small trash can beside her and water on the nightstand. He turned off the lights and made his way back to bed as well.
Harry got comfortable cuddling Y/n against his front. He landed small kisses on her shoulders and rubbed her back to help her relax. Once her breathing evened out he gave her one last kiss, he soon followed her steps and fell back into his deep sleep.
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tinydestinybear · 2 years
Note
Dad Harry loving on his kids Headcannon?
alrightyyyy here you go! 💛 please send in feedback i really wanna know if you guys enjoy reading <3
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harry was very worried at the beginning if he’ll even be a good parent, he’ll never be able to show how much but he truly felt comforted by your words when he once told you of his worries, “know you’ll be the best dad for them. look at how much you take care of me, i don’t think it’ll be any less for them h.”
he pretty much filled up his desk with parenting books and went for sessions but eventually felt like he’d be able to do manage since he had you by his side
he first cried when the baby was born, holding their little fingers with happy tears in his eyes and who was very hesitant at first to even hold the baby because they looked so small and he was afraid he might hurt them
harry’s always up at the first cry of the baby. he already feels bad leaving the baby even if it’s for a few hours so he tries to make up for it whenever he can
his favourite routine is giving the bub a bath when he talks to them about everything and anything and they babble back to which he nods his head to not make them feel unheard. he rocks them to sleep after a good bath as they rest their head on his shoulder. you’ve also caught the two sometimes taking a nap with harry’s head resting on the couch’s arm while the bub would be cuddled close to his chest and his arm would be around the bub’s back protectively
looks forward to seeing the baby’s smile after a long day. he loves to just stay by their side and stroke their hair gently and when they look up at him with big doe, innocent eyes, oh he’s a goner.
he’s always slowly saying “d-a-d-a” for the baby to say when they’re doing anything even as simple as him feeding them food but when their first word is “mumma” he doesn’t stop them but if they end up saying dada a few days later, he’ll surely pretend as if that is their first word to tease you
loves to spoil his kids!! imagine his kids being into reading, he’ll probably get them signed books and have a whole library section in the house. also, maybe when they’re young he’ll build a play area section himself, figuring out how to build the entire thing while making sure their safety
if he had a daughter would pretty much do anything and everything for her. just so head over heels for her. 
imagine kids having almost the same curls for their hair, him brushing their curls while they’re sat on his lap, ugh what would i not do to be there
he’s very much in shock when he sees his bub trying to push themselves to stand up and walk a few steps. he’s putting his arms to hold them just in case they fall but he’s undeniably in disbelief when they come running down the last few steps to him. he’s holding them in a hug with a soft whisper, “you’re growing too fast little bub.” but he’s also their biggest supporter so he does cheer for them
this man revels in his babies’ giggles. he loves making faces and then hearing their laughter. also also, he loves playing peekaboo and holding them in the air with his feet
he blows on food before feeding it to the bub because it might be too hot for them
when he goes out to get you stuff with your little bub in his arms, their arms around harry’s neck while they point at some toys which harry definitely ends up buying, like i said he’s a big spoiler
he’ll probably never forget how whenever he comes home, he has his babies run to him and crush him in a long hug with shouts of “daddy’s home!” as he feels the long day’s tension wash away. when they’re young, they’re sitting down on the carpet with a toy in their hand and he’s laying down straight to leave a kiss on their nose and simply watch them enjoy in their world
harry hates when his bub cries while getting their vaccinations. he’s hissing when the needle goes in and when they start to cry after the shot’s down, he’s turning them in his arms, leaving soft kisses on the side of their head to calm them down
he loves when his kids come to him and ask him before colouring his tattoos, styling his hair
at some point, he feels like his kids have grown up too soon when he sees them tie their shoelaces on their own
dad!harry who’s comforted by the soft kisses his babies gives him :((
masterlist!
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enchantedsoulofmine · 2 years
Text
Dressing room noises...
 Harry Styles x reader
Summary: Sometimes a dressing room can come to the rescue when you are wet and in need of some pleasure.
Warnings: Smut, not that heavy tho! Grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language.
~~~
You were wet. Your pantie was flooded and you resisted the urge to grab your husband, Harry by his collar and lock him and you in the dressing room of the Gucci store you both were in and do what your shameless mind was thinking right now. 
You weren’t the one to blame, blame Harry who was looking like Zeus, his biceps bulging as he observed the brown sneakers in his hands. 
“Like what you see, m’love?’‘ Harry spoke lowly, noticing how you were staring at him. ‘What do you mean?’ you rolled your eyes playfully, denying what Harry said. ‘Uh-huh?’ Harry muttered, coming towards you, Very Slowly. ‘How about the dressing room, love?’ His mouth extremely close to your ear, as he finished his sentence, he licked your ear lobe and you were so grateful that the salesperson who was accompanying you both was not here right now. 
‘Lets go!’ Harry finally took your hand and pulled you towards the nearest dressing room. ‘How did you know?’ you asked as soon as you both entered the dressing room. 
‘I know the way you look at me when you’re wet love’ he took a pause, coming nearer to you, ‘remember the way we fucked in my mom’s bathroom when we were at her house for a family dinner, just because you got wet hearing my deep voice and that was the way you looked at me that day, begging to be fucked’ he continued, caressing your cheeks. 
‘Or the way you looked at me in that bar we went with Sarah and Mitch, and we had to fuck in that small restroom and there are many times you gave me that look’ Harry finally pressed his lips against yours.  Harry felt your cheeks burning and he quickly broke the kiss, looking at you softly. 
‘No need to get shy, m’love’ he said softly.
‘Remember how shamelessly we fucked in Santorini, at the balcony of our hotel?’ he smiled a little, you nodded and started kissing him again. Harry pressed you against the mirror and let his hands explore your wet cunt. You moaned but soon got quite, remembering that you both were in a dressing room and you surely didn’t want the people out to hear the noises produced during the activity you and your husband were indulging into.
‘Don’t hold back love, be as loud as you want’ he, without warning put two fingers inside your cunt and you let out a pornographic moan, fuck the people outside, that’s what was on your mind now. ‘Fuck, H. Your cock, i want it now’ you panted, tugging at his curls. 
‘Come on Mrs Styles, get ready to lose the ability of walking’
~~~
Heyy! Thankyou for reading! hope you like it. Reblogs, feedbacks and comments please. If you want to be added in the taglist, let me know.
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mysticalrambling · 2 years
Note
Hi! Since it’s Mother’s Day today, could you write about dad!harry? Maybe something about Harry waking up early in the morning, goes to the bub’s (you decide if it’s a little girl or a little boy) nursery and since theyre wide awake he takes them and brings them to the kitchen where they start preparing some breakfast (in bed) for reader and then they bring it to her and Harry wakes her up by placing The bub on top of her and they start kissing sloppily reader’s face while giggling and smacking her face in order to wake her up, just something cute and fluff pleasee❤️
Hi! I loved this idea so much!! I have written it but with a few changes so I hope you like it. Do let me know and I’m open for requests so send them in. Love y’all.
Kitchen Disasters
Regards, R❤️
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cherievol6 · 2 years
Text
cabin fever
ino dublin was the first show but pretend it wasn’t for this xo it’s like half edited cause I’m hungover lmao enjoy
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tour is pretty tiring and it turns harry into a grump
word count: around 2.6k
warnings: swearing, little bit of angst but fluff at the end xo
.
"Are you wearing all of this tonight?" Harry's tone is slightly abrasive as he passionately points to your clothes strewn on the bed. He was obviously being sarcastic, the furrowed brows making you believe that he's pissed off. You sigh from your place in the bathroom, closing your eyes as your rub in your cleanser, trying your best to will away your curt response.
"I'll move it in a minute." You grumble.
"Oh, so you're not? I was just wondering, y'know, cause it's all dumped on the bed that I'm trying to make." He mumbling to himself sarcastically and you feel your patience wear thin. The night in the hotel after a day of travelling meant you, of course, slept badly again, and it wasn't helping that your new contraception was messing with your hormones. All around you felt - irritated, and had a feeling it wasn't going to shake all day.
You don't respond, slinking back into the room cockily grabbing the clothes, shoving them into your suitcase without a word and pulling out a bikini, since Harry insisted that the two of you go for a swim in the freezing cold sea, when you just wanted to do a bit of sight seeing. You'd grumbled about it last night when he suggested it, so he went in a mood and said he'd go on his own. His alarm...that stupid fucking alarm, woke you up at the crack of dawn, however. So you didn't really have much choice.
"At least pretend you wanna be here." He jabs once you're at the rocky beach a few miles out, removing his clothes before slipping into the cold water in pink swimming trunks, teeth bared at the temperature.
"Sorry I don't want to go fucking swimming when I'm exhausted, Harry." You hiss, rolling your eyes as you strip down and follow him into the water. He's doing breast strokes around in the water and you just stay stationary, shivering from the cold you've never felt before.
"Don't you think I'm tired too?" He finally responds as he sidles up to you, running a hand of water over his face. "C'mon, it'll wake you up."
"Could we not have had coffee instead, like regular humans? You don't want to get poorly from this, it's too cold." You sigh, and he makes a face.
"Anything else you wanna complain about?" He shakes his head and when you give a scoff, he swims away and leaves your scowl to etch even further into your forehead. You send a splash of water his way and he just ignores you, wading under the water.
You're out in a flash then, not bothering to spend any longer in the freezing cold. Harry was freakish with these things, his body could take these kinds of conditions; yours could not.
Pulling a towel over your shoulders, you sit down on a random bench up on the pier, to observe Harry's head bob in and out of the water.
A phone camera click drags you out of your dark cloud of a mood and you look to the side, seeing a group of younger people starting to gather in numbers, mumbling quietly and looking between you and Harry. Another phone click goes and you blow out a breath and bounce your leg, feeling more and more conscious as the time goes on. Harry's sixth sense somehow manifests itself and he's clambering out of the water, giving the people around a bashful smile as he towels himself off; a quick nod of his head towards the pier walk makes you rise from your feet, copying his actions of giving the group a small smile. You didn't mind meeting his fans, and nine times out of ten they were really lovely, and just interested in a chat. On the off occasion though, it spiked your anxiety severely, and now more than ever given you're wearing a bikini.
"I hope they don't post those pictures." You mumble once you're out of earshot, walking unconsciously closer to Harry out of nervousness that they're following the direction you walk in.
"You know they will." Is all he says, adjusting the Pleasing bag higher on to his shoulder and traipsing back to the car idling for you both. Your chest tightens slightly but you don't mention it, not wanting to bother him more with your 'complaining', especially after his earlier comment. Your shoulders roll back and you sigh, attempting to shake off your bad mood. 
"You're creasing your shoes. Lambert won't be too happy about that after he stuck his neck out for the limited editions." You half laugh as you point to the backs of Harry's trainers. He scoffs, flailing his arms in defeat, making the smidgen of humour you tried to insert into the conversation disappear immediately.
"Fuckin' hell. Anything else? Been here for half an hour and you're already nagging m'ear off."
The irritation you felt this morning bubbles up to a point of anger and you wrap the towel tighter around yourself, feeling shivery as you pick up your walking speed.
"I'll just shut the fuck up, shall I?" You snap, moving ahead of him. He goes quiet for a minute before letting out a quiet puff of air, like he's blown out his lips before releasing it.
The car ride back to the hotel is silent aside from a few grumbles from Harry when someone cuts his driver off and it jerks the car, and you can feel a pulsing headache beginning to fester behind your temples, your sinuses beginning to feel achey and stuffy by the time you're stripping off in the bathroom to get a shower. The scalding water does a good job at quelling the feeling but it still doesn't shake your bad mood, and you find yourself clambering back into the made bed whilst Harry's off on a walk with Jeff, drifting soundly into much needed sleep before the concert.
You wake to the sound of clattering and open your eyes, seeing Harry bent over his suitcase holding a small pink wash bag you remember buying for him so he'd stop using yours. He's dumping stuff into it with a frown of his face and you clear your phlegmy throat.
"What are y'doing?" Your voice is croaky as you watch him through sleep-filled eyes. He starts, glancing back at you before lifting from his knees, grabbing his tote bag.
"M'gonna get ready early at the venue. I need a bit of space." His voice is quiet and your heart leaps into your throat. You sit-up, rubbing your eyes with your knuckle. Your whole body aches and you try to will away the feeling.
"Space? Don't go." Your voice is small akin to his. You knew that the bickering was a bit excessive today, but it wasn't really a regular occurrence for the two of you, just when you both were emotionally and physically exhausted.
"It's only for today. I think we've both just got a bit of cabin fever, and I fancy a bit of alone time." Although his words sadden you, you can't help but agree. You love Harry's presence, and find yourself lucky to be able to spend his most memorable moments of his tour by his side; but sometimes the bed felt a bit too warm with the two of you, and the bathroom got a bit cramped when you were both getting ready, and Harry was leaving milk pods everywhere from his coffee or you weren't throwing away used makeup wipes.
"Okay. So I'll see you after?" You will away a sneeze before you say it, rubbing your hands up your sore arms and making a mental note to take some painkillers.
His eyes soften but his nod is stiff, him walking over to place a chaste kiss to your head before slipping out of the hotel room. And although it's upsetting that he didn't want to be around you, you do feel the irritation waver once the room falls silent.
"Are you okay? You're a bit shivery, babe." Harry Lambert has to shout over the noise of the crowd as he observes you with his concerned eyes, but your gaze stays trained on Harry sprinting around the stage. You shrug and he places a hand on the back of your neck, hissing and moving it to your forehead.
"Shit, you've got a bit of a temperature. How are you feeling?"
"Not great, to be honest." The blocked nose was impending the minute you climbed into that cold water in the morning, and it finally manifested itself after you roused properly from your nap, feeling like you'd been dragged across concrete. 
"Oh, you shouldn't have come, hun. Does Harry know?" Glenne rubs your shoulder gently and cranes her neck around to find Jeff. You sniffle, shaking your head and wrapping your coat tighter around your body. If someone saw you they'd probably think you looked ridiculous, given the common knowledge that backstage got very stuffy very quickly from the equipment and the commotion, but your fever was making you shiver like you're in the Arctic.
"We went swimming this morning in the sea. It was so cold. I think I'm just quite run down, and being too cold this morning worsened it." Lambert nods and ushers you out of the wing of the stage and back to Harry's dressing room, putting you under strict instruction to wait there.
The show only had 20 minutes left, so you figured it wasn't worth carting back off to the hotel when Harry would be following shortly after, so you hunker down and whip off your own coat, wrapping yourself in Harry's big puffer and falling sound asleep on the sofa. 
Chattering and cheering outside the door shortly later filters into your ears as you sleep, and it rouses you quickly, a cold sweat on your brow swept away by someone's hand.
"Hey, are you okay?" A soft voice speaks and you peel open your eyes, Harry's rapidly falling chest and the glisten of sweat of his neck comes into vision. He's still wearing his stage clothes, as if he ran straight to find you. His face reads nothing but worry and you feel the anger from before dissipating quickly.
"Hey." You croak, attempting to clear the phlegm from your throat. He frowns, brushing your hair back with his fingers pursing his lips.
"I didn't know you weren't feeling well, baby. Lambert said you looked really ropey and had to come and sit down." Your eyes close as he rakes his fingers through your hair.
"Hm. I think I'm a bit rundown, to be honest, H. Must have caught a cold or something." You barely manage the words out with your dry throat and he takes note of this, manoeuvring to grab you a bottle from the mini fridge.
"I'm too hot, can you take this off me? I'm too sore to move." You gesture to his large puffer coat draped over your body and he grabs it quickly. A small smile is on his face at the thought of you grabbing his coat for comfort, rather than your own.
"Shit. I bet the swimming didn't help this morning." He sighs, raking a hand through his hair with the guiltiest look on his face, "and you were worried about me getting ill, yet I dragged you in there without even thinking."
You don't say anything as you swig from the bottle, shrugging.
"S'not like you dragged me in by my hair, or something." You attempt to joke, but you grimace at the aches coursing through your body. He grabs the palm of your hand and plants a kiss there.
"No, but I definitely guilted you in."
You repeat a swig of water to avoid saying anything snarky. He huffs and plants himself down on the sofa, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders.
"I'm sorry I was such an arsehole earlier." You lift your eyebrows sarcastically and he fights a laugh.
"You really-" you pause to sneeze and Harry leans away, "sorry- you really pissed me off before. We need to stop going for each others' throats when we're tired, I don't like arguing with you."
"Bless you, And- you think I like arguing with you? Of course not. I just felt very crabby this morning, I'm sorry again." He looks genuinely guilty, and you're fully aware that the way you were both acting in the morning wasn't a true reflection of either of you. Plus, the cold is draining your body of energy, so you don't have the patience nor the desire to carry on bickering.
"I understand you're just a bit burnt out. It's okay."
He smiles, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You lean on to his shoulder and fight sleep until he drags you out of the state.
"Baby?" You hum and he cups your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek, "I'm gonna take you back to the hotel, okay? Get you a nice bath, beautiful."
"That sounds nice." You say softly, gazing at him through your half hooded lids. He smiles slightly and provides many forehead kisses until you're in his car, and lets you lean on his shoulder the entire drive back, drawing you a cool bath (as to not aggravate your fever) as you peel the clothes from your body that once were curing your chill and were now starting to make your body temperature skyrocket.
"Want me to stay?" He mumbles, hands fiddling with yours. You nod and lull your head against the porcelain to look at his face.
"Let's promise not to fight too much on this tour. Don't want to end up strangling the world's favourite rockstar." Your voice is sleepy from the intense calmness that takes over your body from the stroking of Harry's fingers against yours and the lapping of the bath water.
He laughs loudly at that, but quickly quietens down when he sees your wince from the echo.
"Next time I'm a prick, I give you full permission."
"Mm, noted. Can I have a kiss?" You mumble. He leans forward but hesitates.
"You've got the leurgy." His head hovers over the bath water to reach your face and you frown, because although you're fully aware that he needs to avoid getting poorly for his shows, you're ill and still feeling slightly needy. Out of spite, you lift your palm quickly and flick the water over his face and hair, making his jaw lower in shock.
"That was out of line."
"You gonna carry on complaining? The water's nowhere near as cold as it was this morning." Your eyebrow raises and his face goes white as a sheet.
"Okay. Maybe I deserved that one."
.
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erodasfishtacos · 1 year
Text
Safe Space
prompt: follow up to demi piece for mlb!harry
warnings: insecurity, smut, minors dni 18+
Please please like, follow, comment, and reblog ❣️
If you want my work two weeks earlier, plus polls to vote for content, plus exclusive blurbs and tropes - please consider joining my patreon for $3 ❤️
-
Harry isn’t trying to be dramatic when he says that he is officially and utterly obsessed with everything about YN.
He felt like he was addicted to her, from just being in the same space as her, and then from craving her body so much it hurt.
For a long period of his life, he didn’t understand the hype about sex - sure it sounded fine and orgasms definitely felt good but why did people care so much?
After his first time with YN, he very quickly realized what it was about because fuck, it was beyond the physical feeling of pleasure - it was how connected emotionally he felt to her and the display of love that sex was.
The issue was, they’d been intimate twice now with yesterday being their first time having sex, and both times he came prematurely.
No matter how kind and understanding YN was, it didn’t take away the deep insecurity of not being masculine enough or being a flop in the sheets.
YN had to use her own hand to help her along because he was coming so fast when they had sex, he was so far gone he hadn’t even thought about dipping his own hand down to assist.
Harry had to leave YN in his bed in the morning because he had to go to weight training and then right after a grueling practice.
He had left a little handwritten note on top of her cellphone to find when she woke up.
Good morning, baby. I’m off to practice. I love you x
It was simple but sweet.
When Harry’s in the locker room with his teammates as they all hits the showers and start to change after practice, well it’s no surprise sex is brought up - literally nothing has changed since high school.
He still didn’t feel the need to join in on the disgusting conversation, the way they talked about women was truly abysmal and some of them were referring to their own girlfriends in such crude ways.
Harry had so much respect for YN, so much undying appreciation for her body even though he just is beginning to learn it.
He would never talk about the intricacies of her form with other people, why would he want them to know what is only for him?
He didn’t want others to know how puffy her nipples get after he’s given them attention, how she gets so wet that it makes her folds glisten - that’s purely for his eyes and imagination only.
“Yeah, Becca told me that Cameron only lasted for three minutes,” Joseph cackles as the other boys join in on the laughter, “Said he jizzed nearly as soon as he stuck it in.”
“No wonder she turned him down when he asked her to the Sigma Phi party,” Payton crows with a boisterous laugh, “He’s never gonna get another date while he’s in school.”
Harry hates the anxiety that strikes in his chest because it hits him that they’re making fun of what he’s most self-conscious about right now.
He was new to everything, having YN’s hands, mouth, cunt was so mind blowingly euphoric and like nothing he’d ever experienced before that he couldn’t control how fast his orgasms snuck up on him.
The first time her lips wrapped around him, he couldn’t even think a conducive thought, let alone stave off his release.
The first time they had sex, she had to finish herself off because he came so fast that he didn’t even have time to focus on her.
His throat is tight as he rushes to get his clothes on, he didn’t want to lose YN - she was his person.
They only downfall of finally finding the love of his life was the immense fear of losing it because he knew this was once in a lifetime.
He was this allstar, cocky athlete who everyone drooled and daydreamed over - only YN knew he didn’t truly live up to his potential in the bedroom.
It’s not that he thinks she’s shallow enough to drop him over that but his anxiety and lack of self confidence had negative talk swirling through his head.
Harry wanted to be the best for her and he’s worried that he’s just not enough - it was the worst feeling on this earth and he hated that he didn’t feel confident in his own skin.
He’s out of the locker room without another glance at his teammates, putting his airpods in so he can act like he doesn’t hear all his classmates who try to say hi to him as he walks across campus.
His night class drags on, his fingers are fidgeting against the desk, knee bouncing because anxiety is one of the nastiest emotions to have.
Miss you already ☹️
The text pops across his screen towards the end of class, he has to tamper down the dopey grin that appears on his face - she must have just gotten out of her weekly newspaper meeting.
I miss you more. 😖
You’re the sweetest. Do you love me?
Harry has to bite the corner of his lip to tamper down his smile because he’s in a relationship, he loves her so much.
So much, baby.
I think you should totally invite me over tonight and show me how much. Just so I know you’re not all talk. 😛
Harry’s heart plummets back into his stomach, for what seems like the hundredth time lately because now he’s nervous about having to have sex despite how much he wants to.
Of course, he wants her to come over and he would have invited her in a minute anyways but now that the promise is lingering in her words, he’s struck with nerves.
He doesn’t respond fast enough because another text is coming through as his thumbs hesitate over the screen.
If you’re not up to it, that’s fine too.
And Harry never wants her to feel like he doesn’t want her there. It’s the exact opposite. He wants her there all the fucking time.
Don’t be silly. Of course, you’re welcome over anytime, my love. Meet me at Holden Hall in fifteen, we can walk back to mine together.
Okay ❤️
He’s not twelve, he shouldn’t get butterflies in his stomach but the thought of seeing her makes him squirm with excitement.
Because he is in love.
The class can’t end quick enough because even though there are always a few classmates who want to bullshit with him after class - Harry is bypassing them with a small smile and wave instead to get out the door.
YN is waiting on a bench, eyes on her phone until she must notice class letting up because her gaze rises and she has a breathtaking smile when she notices him.
It quickly turns downward when Harry is stopped by a group of girls, they’re giggly and overly nice as they compliment him on his recent game and how good he looked in ESPN College Edition this week.
Harry would usually give them all a cocky smile, dimples on display, and his shoulders broad as he let them coo over him.
Now he’s a taken man, he doesn’t have to act like he’s into all these girls he’s not anymore, and it’s so refreshing when he gives them a short ‘thank you’ and squeezes out of their circle.
Their eyes follow with annoyance and envy as they’re dismissed so quickly for Harry to make his way over to YN, where she’s sat on the bench in one of his baseball hoodies and a pair of leggings.
The girls begin to whisper furiously amongst themselves when Harry bends down, gripping YN’s chin, and kissing her softly for a moment before helping her up and taking her backpack to swing over his other shoulder before intertwining their hands.
YN seems surprised as they walk away, her hand squeezing his tightly as she ignores the daggers being glared into her back.
“What’s the look for?” Harry asks when they’re finally away from everyone spilling out of the lecture hall, and on the walk back to his frat house.
“I was just surprised you kissed me in front of all them,” YN shrugs, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal to her, “Most guys wouldn’t have done that in front of another group of pretty girls.”
It’s Harry’s turn to frown at that, stopping in his tracks to give her a look, “Why wouldn’t I kiss you in front of all them? You’re my person. I only want to kiss you. I don’t care what any of them think. I only care what you think.”
YN’s let’s a smile creep on her face, leaning up to kiss him for a long moment before she’s giving him a big hug and nuzzling her face into his chest.
“I love you. You’re just…” YN trails off, like she can’t find the right words, “You’re so good to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Harry can’t believe that. It feels opposite, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve her.
“You deserve the best and I’m going to always give it to you. I’m going to show you off to everybody all the time,” Harry promises as they begin to walk again, this time his arm around her shoulders pulling him into his chest.
The sex dilemma floats out of the forefront of his mind only for a little, only until they’re in his room, and Harry announces he needs to shower.
He was still sweaty, dirty from practice because on these days he doesn’t have time to shower before class.
When he drops their belongs near the door, he’s kicking of his shoes and telling YN, “Alright, gotta get cleaned up before we cuddle. M’gross.”
He fully expects YN to make herself comfortable on his bed while he cleans up and what he doesn’t expect is to YN to follow him to the bathroom - luckily, he had his own and didn’t have to share with his disgusting frat mates.
“Wh-What’s up?” Harry stutters as his cheeks flush, he hadn’t had anytime to figure out how he was going to solve his stamina problem and showering with his drop dead gorgeous girlfriend wasn’t going to help.
YN’s face twists in confusion as he stands frozen near the sink, “Uh, I was going to join you? If you don’t want me to, I don’t have to. I just thought that-“
He could tell he had embarrassed her by the way she’s trying to overexplain her reasoning to following him in there but Harry also knows that normal couples shower together all the time and if he was fucking normal - he wouldn’t be so surprised.
He wants to shower with her, fuck, of course he does.
Harry wants to scream and pull his hair because in his lack of self-confidence and anxiety - he’s making her feel bad about herself.
“No, no,” Harry interrupts her, bringing her into his chest, and kissing the top of her head, “Forgive me, darling. This, just all this is new to me. I’ve never showered with anyone before. I’m still getting used to actually being in a relationship.”
YN seems a bit relieved at his explanation, kissing his collarbone and rubbing at his back, “Still, if you don’t feel comfortable with me joining you that’s okay. Not all couples shower together. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
Harry’s chest pangs because he just keeping mucking everything up, “No, I always want you with me. Please don’t second guess yourself, baby. Want you to shower with me. Want you with me every second of the day.”
YN nods against his chest but doesn’t make any move, like she’s nervous to be the first one, and so Harry does so first - stepping back to strip his shirt over his head before he’s slipping YN’s hoodie up and over her head.
He leans over to turn on the faucet to get the water warmed up, she’s standing there in just her bralette and leggings - god damn, she’s pretty.
Harry’s heart rate is going a million miles a minute as he shrugs the bralette over her head, her gorgeous tits bouncing out to where they naturally lay - perky but real and soft.
“Baby,” Harry huffs out in awe as he thumbs over her nipples - hard and puffy, they are making his mouth water, can’t help but duck down and wrap his lips around one as she whines happily.
She’s reaching for the waistband of his athletic shorts and briefs, pulling them both down in one go, and it’s not shocking he’s already plumped up and hard for her.
It was still a new experience, being bare and vulnerable in front of someone else - showing the innermost personal parts but he wanted her to see him, it made him feel good when she whispered how nice his cock was.
After he’s got her leggings and panties off, he’s bringing them under the stream of the shower, and watching in rapt amazement as the droplets slide down her neck, over the peaks of her breasts, and bead off her now soft nipples.
“Turn around,” She orders quietly, turning his shoulders until he’s facing towards the back of the tub, her hands come up with lathered shampoo and begin to scrub through his matted locks - her nails scratching against his scalp feel so good that he moans weakly.
She takes such care of him, his heart is melting for her as she washes out the suds before snagging his loofa off the shelves and beginning to wash down his body to wipe away all the dirt and sweat of the day.
It feels so amazing to be taken care of like this, he’s never had this before, and now that he does - he wants to cry because he’s just emotional.
When she’s finished with him, he takes it upon himself to return the favor, not because he feels obligated but because he wants to take care of her just as much and prove his worth as a partner.
“Ouch,” YN hisses when Harry’s fingers get tangled in a knot in her hair and pull it quite harshly, YN’s face contorting in a brief moment of pain.
“Fuck, m’sorry,” Harry apologizes instantly, he was on edge and he just kept making everything worse - he just pulled his girlfriend’s hair, “M’sorry, baby. Are you alright?”
YN rolls her eyes at him, stepping closer and flopping against his wet chest, kissing his skin, and nodding, “I’m fine. You don’t have to apologize. Just be careful.”
Harry’s hands are shaking with nerves as he carefully weaves through her locks, taking his time with the knots before he’s moving onto soaping her body up - he would have to buy scents she liked as everything in his shower was more masculine scented like sandalwood and sage.
After gently running the loofa over her tits and belly, Harry dips downwards but she’s moving his hand away from her center and down her thighs.
“No scented products near the goods,” YN tells him as she wipes a stray hair off his forehead, “It will throw off my PH. I just use unscented soap for that.”
And once again, he feels like a fucking idiot and like he should have known that about female anatomy but he didn’t.
He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, inhaling through his mouth because he feels like such a twat today.
YN doesn’t notice, her eyes shut as she lets the water pound down on her skin, and humming happily as he washes down her legs, hand playing with his sodden curls.
They dry off and Harry grabs YN a tee shirt of his from a baseball camp because he loves seeing her in his stuff - it settled his possessive side.
YN uses his hairdryer to dry her hair until it’s nearly dry, just damp on the ends, and she crawls onto his bed, forgoing dressing in her shirt and underwear.
And Harry doesn’t know what to do because he wants to crawl over top of her, kiss her, and push inside where he knows she’s hot and ready for him but he also knows he was just in the shower for half and hour naked with her and he’ll come too soon.
“Er, what do you want to watch?” Harry asks instead, standing in his tight briefs near his desk with the remote - clicking through Netflix.
YN who’s got a confused look on her face doesn’t say anything at first, she’s literally splayed out on her boyfriends bed bare as the day she was born, and he hadn’t even acknowledged it.
“I was thinking about Bake-Off? We haven’t finished the season yet,” Harry swallowed nervously, eyes glued to the screen and not at her.
YN visibly deflates out of the corner of her eye, her shoulders slumping and she reaches for her top to shove quickly over her head before tugging on her underwear.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” YN responds without the enthusiasm she had a few minutes ago, Harry realizes for the second time that night he’s embarrassed her - he just turned down her blatant invitation.
Harry hates this.
YN is perfect, doing everything perfect, and he can’t get a fucking grip on himself.
He needs a second.
“I’m going to go make us some popcorn,” Harry excuses himself, tugging on a pair of shorts as he exits the room.
A few minutes later, with a bowl of popcorn and some water bottles, he enters his room again, frowning when he notices that YN had also tugged on a pair of his joggers.
“You cold? I can close the window,” Harry offers as he sets the food down and YN looks down at her hands, avoiding eye contact.
“No, m’fine,” She responds, her tone is unsure like he’s never really heard it, “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I figured I’d cover myself up.”
Harry shakes his head, angry at himself as he mutters, “Fuck.”
YN glances up at him with wide eyes as she watches him pace for a moment before he’s stepping over to her, kneeling down in front of the bed, and putting his hands on her thighs.
“It’s not you. You never make me uncomfortable, baby,” Harry reassures her, he feels tears start to prick his eyes as he hangs his head, “I just keep fucking this up.”
“You’re not fucking anything up, Harry,” YN replies softly, her hands coming to rub at his shoulders, “What do you mean?”
Harry sniffles pathetically, refusing to look up, “I wanted to jump your bones the second you were naked on my bed. I wanted you in the shower with me before you even offered but I’m making you feel like I’m not into you and I’m sorry.”
YN titters, thumbing over his warm ears, “I don’t think you’re not into me. I feel like I’m not reading you correctly and I feel bad.”
“No, no, baby,” Harry refutes, kissing her belly, “You’re reading me right. I want you. Every part of you. I just…I’m really doubting myself and I don’t feel like a good boyfriend.”
“But why?” YN presses, finally forcing his chin up until his watery eyes are meeting her concerned, honeyed one’s.
“You’re gonna laugh at me,” He mumbles but lets her press sweet kisses over his forehead and temples as he struggles.
“Never going to laugh about something serious, if you want us to have a healthy relationship we have to work through whatever is bothering you,” YN encourages, cupping his hands and moving her lips to kiss all over them as well.
“I was in the locker room today and they’re were fuckin’ around and making fun of some guy who…doesn’t last long. It made me anxious because I haven’t been and I don’t want you to get annoyed with me because I’m not good in bed,” Harry’s gone teary again, YN is quick to wipe them with her thumb and a knowing, calm smile decorates her face.
“Baby, that’s why you’ve been so skittish?” YN shakes her head with a small giggle, leaning down to kiss him once more.
“Said you weren’t gonna laugh at me,” Harry grumpily reminds her, nudging her cheek with his nose before pulling back.
“Didn’t realize you were worried about something absurd,” YN tries to tamper down her grin, “You’re worried that I’m not enjoying myself when we had sex?”
“You had to finish yourself off,” Harry points out as a weak reason to his defense.
YN raises an eyebrow, “Okay, at the end? But the reason I was even close enough to get myself off was because I was so turned on and you were making me feel so good.”
Harry didn’t think of it like that, he blinks at her like he wants her to keep talking, and so she does, gripping his hands firmly.
“The two times we’ve done it, they’ve literally been the best experiences I’ve ever had sexually,” YN rubs at the bridge of her nose, “I told you no guy has ever made me come before even when I was helping myself along.”
Harry takes in that information, a sense of pride swelling in his chest, and twitch in his thin shorts at the praise.
“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against her clothed shoulder, “M’sorry I’ve been being such a dickhead.”
“You just need to communicate. I understand this is all new to you. It’s new to me too. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in love with the person I’m having sex with,” YN admits as her body gravitates closer to him and her legs spread for him to wriggle in between.
“And I’m going to be the only one who gets you like this. Always gonna be in love with everything about you. You’re my person,” Harry reassured her, the nerves melting away because he feels so fucking safe with her.
The stage fright, the nasty quells of insecurity dissipate, and are fully replaced desire to please the gorgeous girl in front of him.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you needed to cover-up. I actually think we should probably do a no clothes policy in my room from here on out,” Harry rasps, his tone getting lower with the more arousal swirling in his tummy.
YN giggles kittenishly and it goes straight to his center, “Oh really? When did that become a rule?”
“Right about now,” Harry growls impatiently, tugging off her bottoms and panties in one rough yank before he’s lifting her thighs over his shoulders and making himself at home between them, “Fuck. How do you always taste so good, pet?”
“I-oh fuck, Harry,” YN whines loudly as her legs try to squeeze around his ears, he was so fucking dedicated when he went at it - licking, kissing, sucking every bit of her mound and what lay inside.
“Always want this,” Harry murmurs before lapping consistently at her slit while he thumbs at her clit - it was all coming naturally to him now.
“Yes, there. Yes,” YN encourage breathlessly when he finds the perfect rhythm that  has her back arching of the mattress and legs restless against his shoulders.
The encouragement just spurs him on to thrust his tongue into her perfect, velvet core as his thumb doesn’t stop the motion.
Her hips speed up to ride down onto his tongue as she nears her orgasm, Harry reaches up to flip her shirt up to reach and knead at one of her tits, pinching at the nipple.
That small burst of pain tends to do the trip because she’s squeezing on his tongue, clit throbbing against his thumb as she tries to muffle her mewls as she comes down.
“In me, want you in me,” She orders brattily, pulling Harry up by his biceps and dragging him on top of her, she’s bossy as she grips him around the base and leads him straight to where she needs him.
“Fuck, fuck baby,” Harry moans as he’s overwhelmed with pure fucking euphoria, his hips starting to fuck in automatically as his noises echo off the walls.
“S’good, you make me so full,” YN whimpers as her lips brush against his on every odd thrust, “Love being full of you.”
“Darling,” Harry scolds between a groan, the dirty talk did not help his stamina and fuck, her mewling about how full she felt just made it worse because he’s giving a few more weak thrusts before he’s coming as well.
“Mm, thank you,” YN hums as she pulls him up for another kiss, a spark in her core when she tastes herself, “See, practice makes perfect. We’ll get there.”
“Next time m’taping your mouth shut, who knew you spewed filth like a sailor?” Harry teases as he pulls at her bottom lip, “Made me come on the spot.”
“I don’t mind being gagged,” YN says nonchalantly and holy shit, Harry is in big trouble with this girl.
He fucking loves his person, his safe place.
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gumballavocadoharry · 6 months
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A white house with a picket fence:
*MerylStone is a made up town in Vermont, Woodstock*
The sky skirted itself on the horizon of nightfall, emitting glints of stars; beaming like mood lights wrapped around the headboard of a teenage bedroom. Even the mellowness of nature, couldn't halt the clamorous roars of the incessant debate over your son, Lincoln's curfew. "Lincoln, for the last time! You're only 18 years old! You don't need a midnight curfew." Harry shouted from across the couch. Lincoln huffed and stormed to his bedroom without saying another declaration. Harry plopped down, hands smacking into his face, his breath huffy and shaky.
The faded ghosts of your husband's slipper marks bored a loud tense firmament throughout the living room.
"Why do kids think once they're 18, they're adults?" He sighed, "Don't they know how hard it is out there?" You swallowed gasps of breaths that you always held inside like gas in a balloon during tense engagements; something that you've learned in your youth. You squished next to Harry on the couch; almost on cue, started rubbing his shoulders and back. "He'll come around honey....it just takes time." 
"Yeah, well too much," A gulp escaped Harry's throat, "What's out there that we can't give here? I mean....we gave him so much freedom...what is it that he wants?" Even you had to shrug to that. "I don't know. Maybe he sees his friends with their own apartments, going to college, being away from their parents and...." You stopped yourself. "What, you think he's tired of us?" Harry's voice sprung more hostility than he wanted. "I think he just needs some space." A correction to your first thought is what Harry wanted to hear in this moment.
You didn't want the thought to echo in your head for too long; Lincoln has his own job, money, he just saved up and bought a car and not to mention the legal status of his age had given him a birthright advantage.
It petrified you and you knew it did Harry as well; just the inkling of Lincoln's moving away from home, your only child stuck something unpleasant in you. All the time, energy, emotion and love that you invested into your best investment would now crave something more than the walls of his juvenile home; something better, better relationships, ones he would devote endless time to. Not even batting an eyelash to his parents, but to the friends who could only show him desire vs the worldly wisdom from his parents. The realization was gut wrenching in itself but the duplicitous fantasy that this was all stemmed for parental love ate away at the truth. 
You knew deep down, what haunted your thoughts, what made your blood run cold was the idea of Lincoln forgetting you and Harry; other relationships would cloud his mind, leaving nothing but hollow postcards of updates from his life. Picturing the unruffled but customarily greeting written in black cursive ink, with only a memo of his life so far with a picture flipped to the back of an older version of your son, black sweater, coffee cup, kids curling on his lap, wife positioned only slightly above his shoulders, would highlight a missing piece of his life; once forgotten and discarded like old news clippings with no purpose.
Little did you know, Lincoln had been listening to the conversation you were having with Harry. The boy's blood boiled, mind caviling at the thought of being chained here the rest of his life. Like a house arrest without an official seal of proof. Chafing at the lack of support for his own liberty, but aiding to their own selfish whims gritted Lincoln's teeth. Years of protesting to this very moment, to these years....were finally coming to an end. Tonight, Lincoln would self free from his sentence and he would finally grapple things differently. His foot moved patiently across the hallway, like he was in no hurry to challenge his stone locked mind. He had a car, money and the night to guide him through this plan.
Sitting at his desk was the first things his eyes scanned to. The desk lamp illuminated the circling dust particles that would land invisibly onto the grainy dark maple desk top. Lincoln's eyes stood for a long time at the the second drawer; neighboured bellow the first tall skinny one. It carried his notebooks, packs of pencils and unopened highlighters, varying in every color of yellow, pink, blue, green, orange and purple. He took shy steps towards his chair, carefully pulling on the fringes of it and sitting down in it, adjusting himself to a comfortable writing stature. Lincoln's fingers gripped around a pen, snagging a notebook from a drawer and inched only a few centimeters away from the page. Holding the pen in his thumb and pointer strictly, he wrote out a small introduction.
The sound of his heart beating echoed like a drum throughout the bedroom. Ballpoint making its way across the paper, scattering out years worth of pent up angst. The sudden open of Lincoln's bedroom door reflexed him to crumbling up the paper and shoving it into bin under his desk. An easy investment against walking across the room or slingshotting a paper only to miss and have to pick it up in the first place. "Lincoln.." Harry stuttered on his words, "It's time for bed." His voice, guttural and his eyes scanning the dark room for anything that could spark an argument. But nothing: the bed was made perfectly, the floors were spotless, desk was clear and so was Lincoln's face; calm, relaxed and deadpan. Lincoln gave a simple nod, settling himself up from the desk and walking out in the middle of his bedroom.
He waited till the door closed and Harry's footsteps grew father and father away. Lincoln grabbed his robe, pulling the strings and using it as a clasp for the door by tying one end to the leg of the desk and the other to the doorknob. He tore another piece of paper from his most used orange notebook. It was a study one he had picked out himself, wanting to make the most of its use for his notes on binary and coding. The ballpoint of the pen positioned itself onto the paper before writing a carefully crafted goodbye. The once diluted blossom sky mixed in a orange powder now was a somber cloak of dark maroon blue. Looking out the window were only half appearing house silhouettes and the faded glow of the end corner streetlights. Something Lincoln would rely on once it came to moving fastly out of the driveway.
Sealing the letter on the desk, lying lifelessly, Lincoln now turned his attention to his closet. Grabbing his duffel bag and shoving shirt after shirt, jeans after joggers, sneakers after loafers and even the small accessories; watches, wristbands and rings were all sealed into sandwich bags. The closet was empty. Only a few hangers swayed silently in the shadow on a vacant little rack that held dress shirts, t-shirts with crazy designs of cats and lightning bolts and pants of all types shoved into the little drawers above. 
Next, the hidden piggy bank. It was really a jewelry box his mother gifted him as a purpose of hiding all his action figures. But now filled in it was hundreds of dollars. Maybe even more than that. Lincoln didn't hesitate to shove the rolls of hundreds into little sandwich bags and stuffing his wallet with 500 dollars, sliding it in perfectly as if the wallet had carved out spaces for the thick stacks of paper to be slickly slid in without hesitation. The dust particles zig zagged around as the body of Lincoln was all over his bedroom, gathering every possible and necessary thing to show with him on his journey. His backpack, filled with textbooks and his notebooks from his desk. 
The desk lamp, nick nacks, scissors, pencils, pens, markers, whiteout....everything that had a resemblance to Lincoln being on that desk was now gone. His whole bedroom with exception of his bed, comforters, and the desk and chair itself was empty and hollow. Like Lincoln was never there at all. The cell phone that had a tracker on it- installed by his parents- was now dead. Shoved into the same box where his action figures lied. He had gifted himself a new cell phone, new laptop, new tablet....nothing could make his parents find his empty tracks. There would be none. Only the lingering scent of his presence that now had vanished into the simple mist of air that his fan blew lightly into the mucky humid bedroom.
Lincoln turned off the desk lamp, closed the blinds, untied the door and hung the note in full view on the front door of his former bedroom. As he sighed, Lincoln glanced one last time at the childhood home he once knew and loved before closing his bedroom door quietly and tiptoeing down the stairs. He disarmed the alarm of the house and walked out without so much as a goodbye. The street was tranquil, only the sounds of crickets were heard. As Lincoln's eyes adjusted to the dark, the houses then appeared. The aromatic husky smell of the night sent waves of calm through Lincoln. He kept his feet solid on the pavement, taking quiet yet shattered steps from the walkway of the house, down to the garage where he kept his used dark gray chevy. The keys jingled slightly from opening the car door and then being plugged into the emission.
The sound of the car starting made Lincoln flinch. But nothing. No one woke, nothing but the sound of sleep and hollowness. Slamming the car door, Lincoln pulled from the driveway, swerving his tires to the main road and stepping on the gas, breaking free from the neighborhood. One last look to the house that sat so perfectly, so white, so big and sheek with its flowered bushes and fancy exterior that matched its neighboring houses styles. The hue that once glowed there had now burned out. Exhausted itself into just another house on a fancy road. Mom and Dad's house. Lincoln had already left mentally, but it was his physical appearance that would have to relinquish.
The morning was quiet. Peaceful. Like any other morning for a picket fence home. You were quiet, having already seen Lincoln's 'surprise' on his bedroom door and then opening it to see emptiness broke inside of you. You just didn't show it. You kept it hidden; festering it inside until it could explode at the right time. You let Harry sleep in as you did with keeping the note on the door for him to discover himself. Instead, you busied yourself with the morning dishes, cooking an English breakfast. The voice of the alarm blaring and the creak of the bed grew into a warm patch on the back of your neck that slugged down to your legs and back. It was numbing and heating in a juxtaposition way. You carefully listened to Harry's footsteps trail over to the right: Lincoln's room. The footsteps stopped for a few moments.
"He's reading the note." you thought. The jiggle of Lincoln's doorknob opening and the pattering of Harry's footsteps trailing into his room like a cave with hidden treasures. There was silence. The same one that smothered the clattery of Lincoln's midnight departure. Your face went cold. Eyes dazed and body in a stillness, not knowing the next step of your husband's reaction.
"Looks like the boy held to his promise." Harry thought. You, turning off the stove, setting the pans aside, goose stomped upstairs in jointace with your husband. But his face was just as casual as yours. No matter how hard you tried, the ringing of Lincoln still hung dry in the room. His bed, just perfect the way he left it. Except it was cold, straight...not one wrinkle in between the sheets of covers.
The desk lamp was still bended in its crooked position. Hunched over the desk counter, sitting alongside with the empty cubbies and dead pictures. Pictures that represented milestones in Lincoln's life. The sailboat Harry helped hang up for 3 year old Lincoln, newspaper clippings framed as a decor for his mystery phase of 12 year old Lincoln, 17 year old Lincoln- just a year ago- hung a lion picture. The only picture that was taken along with Lincoln but not the rest. They all stared at the broken pair of you. Like they grew eyes and taunted you like a buzzing fly that wouldn't leave the room no matter what.
The closet was empty. Any signs of Lincoln were dead. Like he never existed in this room. A sudden grown dread ran though you, leaping you from Harry's side and opening the bottom dresser drawer and snatching out the jewelry box. Opening it was the dead cellphone you had gifted him for his 16th birthday. You and Harry- like all the other cellphones you gave your son- had decided that the rule would be no different. It was never discussed with Lincoln, but always just there. Like it was attached to the cellphone when you bought it fresh from the apple store. He never questioned it, but somehow you knew he hated it. But there it was. Dead. Like Lincoln's bedroom. The life that was in it had dissipated with him. It was like a slap in the face. A reality check warning you were you were headed. Now its too late.
Lincoln was gone and god knows where he could be. What could you do? Call the police? Force them to bring a legal adult back home to his Mommy and Daddy? A gap of air went down with your tears. You swallowed them, ate at them and ignored them. But they still came out anyway. Your mascara smudging, traveling down your cheeks like a riverbank. You couldn't turn and face Harry. It would only make him mask more of his pain. A feeling you both hated to admit to yourselves. 
"Well, I'm hungry." Harry walked past you, swishing a rampant of coolness past him. He was so nonchalant and aloof like he had just saw any old car scamper down the street. His son, his child was gone, nowhere to be seen, and this was his reaction. Broad fury infatuated you before dying down at the command of your mind. It just didn't seem like a battle worth fighting for. Walking down the hall now felt ominous and cleft. Like someone had ripped out a chunk of the house and planted a graveyard, burying Lincoln's body in it. Your stomach felt queasy yet empty. The wooden floors were cold and creaky, the stairs felt uneven and crooked like you were walking on floating rocks. The whole house felt dead. Cold, sterile and lifeless. The presence that once filled this house with chroma; giving complexion to the interior of it had bleed itself onto wherever Lincoln was.
Your feet stopped at the door frame of the kitchen. Harry was munching away on the toast that was set in front of him, sipping his coffee, catching up with the lastest on google news. Half of you wanted to slap him so hard that it would ricochet the sense of the matter into him. While the other half wanted to bungle up into his arms and cry copiously, choking on every breathe, gasping on every tear and squeezing some more out while he kissed the tiny stalks of hair on your scalp so deeply that you could feel his pointed lips puckering tightly, pressuring into your skin, whistling into a husky smooch once suctioned off.
But instead, you almost tripped on your own feet walking into the kitchen while Harry barely bat an eye. If he even cared enough to notice at all. 
You turned your concentration towards the sink; eyes focusing on the single drips from the faucet, pulsing a beat on the sink floor with water beads lying all around it. It was the rolling sound your stomach made that made you grab a plate and plop the work of your family breakfast onto it. You sat directly across from Harry, staring down at your plate; bacon, two sunny side up eggs staring back at you, baked beans, fried tomatoes and toast just laying there lifeless onto your plate. Meanwhile, with the slithering glimpses of Harry just munching away at his breakfast like it was just any old morning. Like he had never ever known Lincoln, like he didn't exist was unpalatable in itself. You made it through breakfast barely, but upon stuffing your dishes into the sink, one of them slammed down harder then intended and broke a half of itself off.
Tears flooded your eyes; dropping the broken piece of stoneware into the sink and rushing to the phone. Your fingers, mucky, damp, thick with a bludgeoning adrenaline and fingertips dipped with humidity slowly dialed the numbers of Lincoln's number almost with the same carefulness a prisoner makes in calling the number of his lawyer or attorney. But it was just a hum of static on the other end. You dialed it again, static. Again, static.
No mistakes and no active number. Maybe more carefully. 
"Hello? This is Parestake house, can I get a phone number for your order?" The lady's voice, dry and polite, but rather tired from the same busy rumination of answering with the same motto. But there was no response; hanging up without any apology for the wasting the time of someone completely oblivious to the situation. 
Slamming the phone into its hook and sitting down on the couch to collect thoughts of what would eject Lincoln from this house so quickly, so quietly, yet so prepared. Like this wasn't a random thought....this was something that had been slithering through the depths of this house for a long time. Creeping through the brain of Lincoln for longer than you and Harry were led to believe. You and him both knew where you stood on Lincoln's heavily monitored independence. The words "I'm moving out" would've knocked a bitter drip into you. Like poison medicine in an IV drip. Springs of arguments would've poured out into the house, booming into threats, a fury of words that would have spilled from Harry's mouth and slapping Lincoln in the face with them. He knew that.
So he left quietly and quickly like a mouse of the night just like he wanted. No regrets and no returns.
Lincoln had settled himself nicely into his apartment. The space had been sitting empty for a solid month. The landlord didn't argue with the young and less experienced tenant upon realizing the boy was a lot smarter and prepared than his prejudiced mind had allowed him to comprehend. Lincoln being one of the youngest residents in the building was one of the mildest. Never throwing loud parties, no loud music, complaints didn't exist and above all, just a forgettable neighbor. Accompanying inside his new home was a calm iguana, Orb. Despite not having a couch, dining table or bed yet, Lincoln still made the small space a home; old bedroom pictures hung the walls of his bedroom, and the desk nick nacks were the new decor of the living area.
Taking his money and setting the groups of hundreds down on the table, organizing them into rent, electronics, food, lighting, furniture, and heating for those colds winters. Gas was complimentary of the landlord. Using a blow up mattress, Lincoln still made it up like it was the real thing. After all, he took pride in the freedom he now had. Despite being materially poor.
But that would soon change once Lincoln got his footing. A lot could happen in a years worth of time. 
The blustery blossoms were rattled by the gusts of spring air that circled through the block. The white house sat empty, and you had sat emptier on the bed in your bedroom, watching Harry walk back and forth by you, straightening his tie for work. A voice in you broke; not knowing where it was coming from. "I tried calling Lincoln yesterday..." Your voice drifted to the fireplace, your glance finally turning your head there. Harry stopped for a moment before returning his attention to his tie. "And?" His voice, rasp with that albion accent, but still enriched with some sternness. "He didn't respond," You looked towards the fireplace again, "I think he changed his number in fact."
"He didn't call or text at all? No response from him whatsoever?" Harry questioned. His voice beckoned slight alarm. You shook your head. "Nothing." Harry bit the side of his lip. "Maybe...." Harry looked up to you. You took a deep breath and sighed, swallowing any rising fear because you knew what your husband's reaction would be to such a notion.
"Lincoln is 18...he's almost an adult. Kids leave for college around this age. If he did move somewhere, it was most likely with a friend or someone he trusts?" Even you and Harry couldn't deny that Lincoln was very trustworthy. A good kid, something you both took for granted. Lincoln cared just enough about pleasing his parents. That was it at the the end of the day....pleasing..not worshipping.
You could see Harry's anger through the collar of his shirt. His vein bulged out from his neck, throat pushing down a hard scoop of vile. "Maybe...but we're still calling the police if he doesn't want to respond." You couldn't deny the way Harry said it. He meant it to assert control. Something that he would never get in this situation. "We could...." Your husband turned to you. But you just sent him a shrug. Harry pierced his eyes into you like needles, before shaking his head collecting his suitcase. You swallowed your ideas and watched from the window as Harry's dark cherry red Honda left the garage and drove down the street.
You stumbled back over to the bed, plopping down and fiddled with the silver diamond studded band that held a decent sized diamond on your left hand, ring finger. How embedded it had been into your hand for the past 28 years. How hard it was for you to get it. Woodstock, Vermont. Your hometown, raised by your father in the sleepytown of MerylStone. The rich blanket of green grass that sprouted stalks upon stalks of it over the hills of the countryside, shining and echoing its sunny glow in the inaugural of summer. You remembered it there with some fond memories.
The big brick house on Swiva Street; its white window panes and shutters, the creaky swingset in the backyard, the arenaceous walkway -that was covered over in concrete that one summer- that led right up to the house and the shrubby bushes on either side of the house that your late mother's roses would spring out of every spring. Pa called it "heaven's little gift for taking your Ma." Your father worked as a workshop teacher at the local high school you attended. You had this allure towards books, science, biology. Potential to be something of your own credit. But Pa had his own idea of you; living in the house, baking cookies, feeding the children, catering to a husband freshly picked from the rounds of other 'good country boys' in the town. 
"I'm not sure if biology is a major you can keep up with baby girl," Your causal sideway look eyerolls were a ritual whenever Pa's old fashioned aims vexed you. "Home Ec is more your speed, other girls would love to take this class! What's wrong honey? Don't you wanna learn how to sow a proper dress?" You would learn: by books, demonstrations or something else besides a dainty old class meant for girls. Only girls.
Stuffing the advice, you took the Home Ec classes to save face of your father's job. But college was different. You had your life set in stone; independent from you father's plans. "Yn, you don't need no college education. It's just a waste of money. You just settle yourself down with a nice boy, like Landon Pines only a few blocks up the street. You'll make a lovely housewife and mother...I'm sure of it." The thought of settling in this town is what thrusted your hands faster in packing away your clothes and everything else in between into two large suitcases, two duffle bags and a backpack. "Yn I-"
"Pa....look. I just don't want that for myself right now. Maybe someday in the future, but not now. I wanna be something more than that." And lord knew the backwards town would support a notion like that. How scuffling it was just to learn to drive. Pa lightened up when his heart started weighing him down. Driving him to the hospital quieted him just a little about keeping your 'little fingers' off the wheel. Pa looked into your soft eyes. His hands touching your cheeks, realizing this meant goodbye. Goodbye for good.
You'd much rather prefer the busy nightlife of New York or Boston, California or London. No old dirt or grassy fields. Instead, being replaced with thick walls of buildings that would tower a shadow over the city. From there, it was London. The college you had accepted on first invite. Your last year was when you had met Harry. His adze emerald orbs, Clark Kent curls, deep crater dimples and bunny smile. A financial planning student, locked eyes with you in study hall. Harry's deep reasoning of the world drew you in like bee to a flower. Harry, would invite you into his dorm to 'study'; painting the walls of his first apartment, a honeybee yellow before curling up into his satin navy blue sheets. And even after graduation, Harry saw a future with you.
His company of boomed, exploding within the first couple months of his investment and savings. But Harry didn't need riches, he had them already planted into his family seed. Gemma, his sister inherited her share before taking off to her journalism passion. "Now don't you two get into any trouble." Harry's mother, Anne, would state. Although, delivered in a playful manner, the pair both knew exactly what she meant. The Styles family were of an aristocrat sort, priding their name with glory and perfection, to the best they could deliver. It was something codeded into Harry's blood. Into Gemma's blood, Anne's....and soon, Yn's. You had taken the family name at the tender age of 25. Harry scraping by only a year her senior.
Your acceptance into the Styles family uprooted uproar. Not from Anne, no. But Pa. "You're engaged! To him!" Was his reaction upon hearing of his daughter wanting to marry a one of the supercilious type. But Harry's cavaliering ways were non-existent. He showed Pa the upmost respect, even when the normally mellowed man would patronize him with the most derogatory and yokel allegations. "Yn, what's wrong with Bruce Candem or Holt Jackner?" You shrugged those suggestions off, "They're not my type."
"But this macaroni is? He's no strapping treasure. Is that how you are? Some little macaroni?" Your face grew hot and sweat dripped from your temples. The blazing sun was no way to discuss this manner. "I guarantee...he'll leave ya! Just you wait Yn...he'll find someone who will satisfy him and then it'll be over!" But you had already ran from the hill and into a taxi cab, shooting you straight back to Boston, where a new home was waiting for you and your new husband. The last you saw of Pa was when he made a debut at the wedding, dragging along country folk that you had outgrown years ago. Their bleak minded views were no longer holding reign to your now freed polished and worldly ones. It had fizzled inside of you since birth and being born in the wrong place was just a simple mistake.
Your face grew tomato colored, glancing over to see your rustic souvenirs from the past, give harsh glares to the modern world of Harry's family. You tried to pay no attention; settling your eyes on Harry's green ones before sealing your vows with a kiss. 
The twinkle of the wind chimes from Mrs. Laundbary's front porch sent a cooling sensation through you. It was like you could smell from the glass of the pine from the trees, the dew of the grass and the tickle of the wind. The house; tranquil, capacious...silent. No one home. You were alone in the midst of a blank home. Paintings hung with shiny timber or aureate frames, vases sculpted from scarce stones and decor hanging over the white walls, shadowing their singular designs over the home. Your footsteps into the hallway echoed like those of an empty museum. Cold, tense, fragile; everything too expensive to touch. They all represented Harry's taste: the derelict of stabling a proper piece of sentimentalism.
Even in your morning gown, your body still couldn't tug the wrap of such lavish silk. Like a stranger's body had morphed itself into this home, the surreal life. A home you knew well from physical travel. The ins and outs of the kitchen, the walk-in closet you and Harry shared, the master bedroom; a lounge to you and Harry and the well sunlit backyard patio; barbeque roasts, pool parties and simple sunbathing while Lincoln cavorted away in the backyard. But all this, the white mansion, the sumptuous neighborhood...nothing felt like your own. Just Harry's. It could've been yours. Maybe better.
You still had your degrees; hung somewhere in the basement with nothing for it to live under. Harry was the CEO of, Styles Inc. The multi million dollar corporation that catered to cars, planes, buses, trains, lavish transportations. Once that had happened, why bother working? Stay home, tend to the house, care for the plants, cook the meals, maybe even bake a cake just for the sake of it...at least that's what Harry said. He didn't mean it to be a step down for you; putting dollar bill after dollar bill into your hard earned education, to prove to yourself and your lout old town that a woman could be something more than their society of bumpkins. But...it was a waste. Escaping the prison of MerylStone, only to land yourself back into what your father had envisioned from the start halted you.
It wasn't until a week after Pa's funeral; the testator had assigned for you to clear out the home of your father, which meant a plane ride from Boston to Vermont. The old brick house hadn't changed a bit. The dusty tan welcome mat had eerily saved its writing still in its bought condition. The old windchime had pieces missing like those of broken teeth. The country hillside, the lush blanket of grass was now just grass. An empty home sitting below the little hill wasn't so cute anymore. Now..abandoned. You'll never forget the chill of your spine that slithered itself inside of you, as you cleared away everything that coincided your father ever being here. 
Your old bedroom, still had its shadows from your old posters. Being in the ghosttown of the house gave you the same feeling walking into Lincoln's dead bedroom. The moving men packed your father's old things into boxes, moving the heavy things like couches, beds, and heavy dresses into moving trucks with your instructions. But before taking the old grainy nightstand by Pa's bed, you opened it to find his old bible with the red page sides pressed together into this bulky red velvet line. Just the feel of the soft leather brought you back into your senses. Memories of college, woodshop class in highschool, Home Ec....they all marked you into this person of who you wanted to be. So caught in day to day life of being a housewife, that you had slowly sunken into this mold of a lie. Pa was right....despite marrying rich, despite all your biology studies, London college......you still became nothing more but just a housewife.
Slamming the bible down into the drawer, you husked yourself out of the house, over the hill and into the rental car, speeding off to the nearest airport. You foot heavily pressed to the pedal, mind flashing in different directions all afraid to go to the one that haunted you the most. Pa was dead...there was nothing more to prove. The ring somehow tightened around your finger. Maybe to yourself? Harry was the one you loved happily ever after right?
He was at the office, as usual. It was just business...it was always business. Signing checks, business meetings in Colorado, Canada, Ohio and whatever you could think of. But he was home before you; coming back in the evening, settling your sunflower hat down on the rack, ripping the heels from your feet, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your light pink dress shirt and running your fingers through your thick strands. "He's really gone Harry. Pa's dead," You looked toward the window, "If you could get hedges in the morning, that would be nice." Harry just stood there, washing his dinner dishes. That was all to be said about Pa ever again.
Harry typed away at his computer, the usual smell of lavender hitting the edges of the office. There sat a tilted slightly mahogany framed picture of you and Lincoln. No sight of himself, but on purpose, as this was just something to remind him of those long work hours. The sight was a refreshing reminder to "not get into any trouble." The grayish colored room was nothing new to the CEO. Harry had been in and out of these rooms for as long as he could remember. There was nothing special of it as he knew this is where he would be. There was nothing else. His only partner that filled him day to day was empty hidden bottle of vodka under the desk. It helped him focus on some days when his hours just didn't numb the world out enough. Something he justified with layering the evening drink with his usual morning cup of joe.
He picked himself better than to be just another ritzy boy to snag off his parents loot without earning his name, his keep. Anne and Desmond boasted to him and Gemma to always make a name for themselves. Of course, they were entitled to as much money as their desires could carry, but nevertheless, it always thumped within the siblings to be their own Mr. or Mrs. Styles. The depths of their castle like mansion spoke volumes of its own. The posh interior of the house matched the cultivated taste of the family. The light gray walls were accented with light tealish blues and silver powdered with white. Those summers where the branched tickled the windows of the terrace and the lush poofy bushes looked like a painting hanging in a museum. The light gray house with a curve on the tip of the roof; racking its color in blush dark peach held the proper expectation to the public as did the inside.
Toying with the silver band on his finger, Harry finally racked up some numbers and matched them a check before clicking out for lunch. His breath was thick, eyes lumpy like they had been glued to a bright screen for days. They side eyed the picture, focusing closely on Lincoln. His preppy boy smile with his father's dimples and his mother's chin.
Those eyes, green and wide like his, but his nose and cheeks were rosey tinted like his mother's. Harry had underestimated the innocent little 8 year old he had known all his life. Those games of catch in the backyard, mushy bedtime stories and well calculated tactics of getting little Lincoln to eat half of his vegetables. The day Lincoln learned to crawl was when Harry's back was turned to the stove, heating up water in the boiling pot. He turned to see the giggling baby take rickety steps to his dad, before falling back down on the tiles to his little hands and knees. "Oooh!" Harry squealed, taking him in his arms and looking into his big eyes. "Did my little boy take his first steps?" Harry cooed, puckering his lips and kissing Lincoln's chubby cheek. Looking deep into his sugary eyes, not wondering what his little eyes were grasping, but more of what he was hiding from his father behind those cuddly looks.
It was shortly after you had lost Pa, the funeral had been now a solid 4 months behind you. Harry had been in his home office, figuring out the latest code for an account. The traction in the house was cabled. It was this thin wire of pondering looks and gagged words between the pair of you. Those stomach aches and backaches were nothing more than stress pins from what you were carrying in between. It wasn't until those 3 missed periods that you wheeled yourself to the doctors.
Sitting the cold unblemished waiting room of the obstetrician's office sent shudders through your gut. Goosebumps and raised hairs sprouted despite it being the dead of fall which prompted a sweater with slide on blue jeans and ugg boots. You tried to focus on the chipped white paint of your fingernails that had been wearing the color for almost a week and a half, instead of the fancy lab coats that swung by in the harmony with the nurses. Dr. Katz, your doctor swung by in her white lab coat, currant red blouse that was neatly tucked into the gray dress pants she donned and the clickety black high heels that clicked with every sophisticated movement. Grabbing files- your files- handing them off to nurses in their varying scrub designs with loose stethoscopes dangling around their necks, silver watches around their wrists, rolled up undershirts....the aesthetic was dreamlike. This was what you wanted....you remembered shadowing Dr. Hawke around the hospital before you had married Harry. The dream of being an established individual with a husband to side part you, not him just to show for your success.  
Those sacrifices....were not something easy to let go of. Harry had promised to provide for you....but it wasn't enough. No, you needed the thrill of working, the smell of sterile hospital rooms was a second home for you, possibly a first one. 
"Yn Styles?"
The name is what brought you back down to earth. A name that wasn't yours, only a jagged extension of something you had realized long ago. Those seven letter words flashed through your mind like a strike a lightning. Was it too late? Those years had become dull, hardened and pinching when understanding this was not what was expected from the vows of a man and woman. You kicked yourself for thinking of such an easy way out. 
Pa was dead and the townsfolk were not completely eradicated from your memory. Word back home would be of a wiseacre from everyone who watched you walk away from their illiterate sleepytown and ram into this big city with better opportunities. Coming back to it, would confirm a thought you had shoved yourself to distance from. You had only yourself to prove to at this point.
 But, on the call of the name, you still rose from the chair and walked to the exam room, taking a seat on the table.  
"Well, Mrs. Styles..the reason for your missed periods is," Dr. Katz turned to her clipboard, grabbing a long paper and handing it to you, "You're pregnant." A pin dropped. "What?" You wanted to hear those words again. "You are 5 weeks pregnant." She pointed to the little indefinite fetus that had formed in your uterus. A smile transpired and you found yourself more animated. Once leaving the building, in the car, you took one last look at the hospital before throwing the ultrasound pictures to the passenger seat.
"No use for that now."  You thought before turning the key and starting the engine. The light of the cloudy afternoon sky shined a glimpse of light onto the black and white picture of you and Harry's 18 year long project. Maybe...just maybe....it could spark something in between the pair of you again. You hoped.
Harry upon getting the news he would become a father delighted him. He questioned the wait of it, wanting to impose another name into the Styles inheritance. The nursery was all set, pictures of balloons, a bouncy yet firm crib, styled in the corner was large teddy bear, tied with a blue bow around his neck. The little detailed decor had come only after discovering that your baby was a boy. Lincoln Styles, was to be his name. Harry insisted it, the social plucking of someone with such an adjustable yet polished name suited someone of his variety. 
The countless hours sitting at his desk, windling away at his computer, matching up number after number for accounts, upgrades for his machines and meetings discussing the latest car or train or bus. Following in Desmond's footsteps of being a businessman, Harry knew the unpalatable hours and the sharp work ethic he would have to acquire himself to. But he didn't mind. Seeing his company expand; rapid with his unsalable ideas and adroitness of the workplace. Fumbling over his pen, he caught a swift smell of Luna's, his secretary's perfume.
Luna herself was married with 4 children. Her husband, Hugh, a president of Sincomet, a rubber company, knew the ins and outs of CEO world, as he was tightly under one himself. But even more so, Luna understood the tough reign his job would contribute to the household. It was one Christmas party, an office one that was held at the Parkstor Community Center, she had revealed her upbringing was one of the same polished ave as her boss's. "My mother had old money, but my father ran this clothing design company. It was passed down to him from decades of other relatives." Her mention of this was brought up when Harry had shared his very much indistinguishable childhood himself. Hugh was of the same material; sharing knowing glances with his wife of how aware they were of each other.
Luna and Hugh connected like lego blocks of a puzzle. Both of the same refined culture they cherished near to their hearts..but it was the understanding of a certain way of life that fully brought perspective to them.
You stood by the punch bowl, glancing towards you husband, taking casual sips of punch. Harry looked down at his loosely laced shoe lace on his black loafer. Eyes squirming to you bleakly before gunning down to the floor again. Your beach style white dress was nothing compared to Luna's burgundy Ralph Lauren dress that hung elegantly above the knees that were covered by black sheer pantyhose. It was her apparel that made Harry question himself why she would be working such a banausic secretarial job, when she could be home enjoying the generosity of her riches. She had a strong work ethic. Busying herself with the day to day tasks of answering phone calls, scheduling meetings and lunches, rather than sitting in a dusky house all day.
The contrast effect of the two housewives was risible. Taking shattered looks to you and then Luna, sparked a quivering thought into Harry's mind. If it wasn't for your siren call in college; painting that old apartment, the effusive intimacy in those silk sheets, the way Harry traced those curves, remembering them like a map of a hidden path in the brazilian forest and those tender winter blue kisses on his lips and cheeks. If all that didn't' exist, then.....would he have married a Luna type?
Someone of the same social class, same upbringing- knowing the tight views of acceptable - or having a refined definition public. Never having to keep watchful eye of his spouses history in a hick town with her hillbilly of a community. She would fit right in with the Styles clan; having a well rounded view of society and money. Really, your own merit of sophistication is what united the two of you in the first place. Harry took a risk at 26 as did you; sealing in vows that wouldn't make sense only a year from when they first came about. It was the then, that he dragged you out of the party, mouth ajar like he wanted to speak, but suckled in his the last of his energy for the night. "Did Preston sign the account?" Harry, eyes steeled on the road, knuckles white and solid on the wheel, still managed to shake out a: "Yes darling, yes he did."
Putting his hand on your thigh, forcing a rush through his body like heroin. He pinched this tight smile together, showcasing enough of his little boy dimples, but his eyes were nuanced and dingy. It would remain that way until you both arrived home with different states of mind.
The hope didn't return until those faded black and white images of a fetus came into view. Finally, a son to show for the Styles family business. Harry still remembered that partially flowy cream sweater with stone washed jeans that bidded a flourish of appreciation in him. The way the sweater flowed over your bump but still hugged it enough to show how protruding it was lit his eyes like a child in toy store. Lincoln's birth was the best thing in the world for you both. Adapting your attention to your new addition wasn't at all a difficult. Glady devoting time to bottle feedings, late night diaper changes and playdates. Teddy bears filled his bed and toys filled his bedroom. You and Harry had developed your own relationship with Lincoln with an unspoken agreement. This was the heart of your marriage. A piece that brought it together.
But it didn't. Once the diaper days were long gone, and those preschool and kindergarten dreams fizzled, you were left with a newly independent pre-teen. One who finally saw all the cracks of his seemingly perfect life and was now on a countdown to escape. This parental involvement wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Just two parents of any only child that put them more on the overprotect radar. Didn't matter though; like all the other parents in the world who were well informed of the risks that came with children were not to been given an excuse for such lackluster discernment on their kids. But yours and Harry's was different of course, like always. Working hard to convince Lincoln that his cocoon was nothing mere than a close relationship with his parents and this was the requirement.
But....who were you kidding. The kid saw like glass on how proprietorial his parents were. The reasoning became clearer to him, seeing other kids and their parents affectionate relationship. You knew he would. One incident of Lincoln meeting Susan Blakely. The coffee color of her long hair that hung so effortlessly to her waist with perfect curls that bounced at the end. Lincoln had been invited to her party, seeing him as eye candy was a mutual feeling they shared. The quiff Lincoln styled his brown curls into, the leather jacket that studded sophistication into it and his dark blue jeans, not too snug or loose, but hung just right above his black sneakers.
"You look so handsome!" Lincoln, trollied down the stairs; eyes abstracted on the front door. Harry's car was nowhere to be found in the driveway or garage, the only way Lincoln could make such a hasty escape with a settled acceptance from you. Shortly after Lincoln made a route from the house to Sam's car- a friend who had a license compared to the rest of the group- Harry's honda pulled into the garage. The house, dim, throttled like the air had been sucked dry. The slow but base footsteps followed the shadow of light into the kitchen. It made you stomach burn into this knot, poking at it like jilted feeling of not being able to do something that had to be done. It wasn't until Harry spotted your figure standing over the sink, washing dishes, daring not to make eye contact afraid of the first words being garotted out.
"Where's Lincoln?" You gave a side eye back glance, not fully looking into those stiff green eyes, but only his shadow that stood peering only over the stovetop. "At a party," It was like a gun being held to your head, forcing you to spill a dirty secret of a close friend. "But, I told him it was okay. I knew Susan's mother so, it's fine." You bit your tongue, punishing it for speaking out of term. "Susan? A girl?" You finally faced Harry, dropping the cup into the sink. "You know how much trouble they could get into! Yn how could-" Harry jolted himself to the coat rack, grabbing the keys from his coat pocket. "Harry, stop! It's not a big deal! Isn't my word enough? You'll embarrass him." Harry only glanced at you before buttoning up his long black trench coat. "You know we both have to verify things Yn." He coldly stated before zipping out the door and into his car.
The waiting was the worst part. Fingers tapping against the arm of the chair, drumming up its own melody of anticipation. The same one you had sitting in the bathroom that one night to confirm what you had already knew from Dr. Katz. Those two lines appeared like magic across the test, still shuddering this surrealness into you like it was the first time. Like the ultrasound had somehow made a mistake in diagnosing your pregnancy. The booming of the front door opening rocked your attention towards a furious Lincoln and a concerned Harry. Lincoln glanced at you as if to say: "Why did you tell him? Did he really have to know?" Before storming up to his room, cold shouldering Harry on his way up.
"I offered to take him to laser tag tomorrow afternoon." You shook your head, "He's a teenager Harry, he wants to spend time with his friends." "I'm his friend? Right?" Harry looked for any signs of agreement on your face. But your eyes, were just tired. Tired of the same broken record that played out not to poles apart from this. "What happened?" A deep sigh finally eradicated from your mouth, blowing out the wind from your lungs like you were too scared to even ponder the outcome of what you knew to be an explosive event.
Lincoln sat bitterly on his bed. His used up sneakers curled up on the floor by his closet, his leather jacket shot over to the back of his swivel chair and his glare still edging throughout the room. His father; downstairs telling his mother a stagnant version of the event, curveting over the little details that complete the puzzle.
Lincoln, making his move over to Susan, laughing, chatting and then kissing. Kissing her with passion, not daring to take a step in the wrong direction, but just savoring the touch of her strawberry lips. Pulling away, he spots this thick black coat walking towards him, mix matched with all the other shambles of kids circling around the party making this figure stand amongst them. Harry didn't yell, or scream or riot. But he simply looped his arm around his son's and dragged him out without a word. The flashes of faces staring out at this eccentric scene became spotted. Heat filled Lincoln's face: part with infused fury and the other with disregarded shame. The car ride was rigid; Lincoln faced the window, not speaking what ran so rapidly through his mind. Swallowing back any grimaces that could trace any more rebellion to him. Instead, Harry suggested laser tag which sent Lincoln shooting from the car and into the house.
He noticed how dry his lips were, recalling those last moments of innocence. The 16 year old would now realize just how twisted things would get and how this was just a mere act. An act of rebellion from his father as well. The wheels turned like car tires, rolling through a freshly paved road in the country in Lincoln's brain. His suspicions of his parents were just much more than to be brushed off with basic teenage angst....it was more sinister than that. The picket fence became discolored, chipped, cracked, broken....the lie couldn't be covered. Harry's fatherly concern was just a big six wheel game. His reputation, was a part of him. And with it, his lies. They're precious angel was just a fine line between the couple. A broken chance of coming together. They needed Lincoln. He understood. They needed him way more than he did. He was their last hope, without him, the marriage would just be a slash to the Styles clan, and hickey on your neck for MerylStone to be blasted long and wide for everyone to realize, you and Harry were just not the match made in heaven you both thought yourselves to be.
"I thought he'd be at work," Lincoln said aloud to himself, "I thought he was working late. He always does when it's Friday." 
Harry and Lincoln wrestled on it the most, but you had this understanding. This knowledge of the whole view. You and Pa, working against his efforts to mold this housewife out of you and now Harry and Lincoln. Pacifying him, molding him to full dependence on you both. Making everything into a fool's paradise. Pa's only good reasoning was ignorance, but this was a well calculated, instituted masterplan. Lincoln became another life to you. He possessed this barrier between you and Harry; working together to keep the one lifeline of this family incased to his parents. Such a selfish plan was sure to face a humiliating defeat, but you didn't care. Neither did Harry. Plastering the name of good parents onto his reputation when he couldn't even get his own son to stay.
Willing to offer his son's life for his own was pure repulsive. You had realized that, the night Lincoln turned 18; a stabbing coolness in your back and sharp pinging kick told you this was it. Things were going to end and fast. And now, he's gone. Just like that into the night. No goodbye, no I love you....nothing. Because in the end, that's what you gave him. You and Harry....nothing. Those nights, hearing your panging yelling and Harry's screeching temper, seeped Lincoln under the dining room table. You knew the boy was smart, you knew he was fighting to survive, you knew he wasn't just this ungrateful brat who whisked himself away over some petty curfew hustle.
No. You and Harry were the problem. The toxic wasteland that threatened to rip the sanity from the only sane person in this house. Lincoln did what you and your husband could never....walk away.
He knew the truth, he didn't cheat or cover it. But simply left it out in the open and accepted it for what it was worth. 
You grabbed the family portrait, looking it dreadfully in the eyes before slamming it down to the ground while a scream left your voice. Harry arrived back to see the broken glass and the disgruntled look on your face. Tears finally broke free, slashing their way down your cheeks. "You did this!" You yelled, practically spitting the words into Harry's face. "You drove our baby away! He was fine, he was happy! But you couldn't stand to let go! Now he's gone and you don't even care! You didn't cry or feel sorry, nothing! You're never letting go!" Catching your breath, "You know I didn't want this! I know what you think everyday going to work everyday! You know what I think and wonder!"
"Yes I do!" Slamming his suitcase down the the floor, papers scattering everywhere in the living room. "I am sad yn! I know why he left, I know all of that! He's my son! I love him! And you know that!" 
"You couldn't stop being selfish! I wanted to let go! I wanted to take the parental controls off his phone, I wanted to let him drive at 16, I wanted to let him go to his friend's party! But you said no! Because he's your little safety net! You couldn't think about him as a person! For once, you couldn't see him as more than a boy! Now he's gone and I can't see him! He ran away from us! HE LEFT US BECAUSE OF OUR PROBLEMS!" Grabbing the stone washed vase, smashing to pieces on the floor. "I want my baby back!"
Harry silently grabbed your arm silently. Tears, falling like rain drops on a car window, wettend Harry's face. He went to the wet bar, poured himself a scotch before speaking. "I'm sorry." His voice, so quiet and collected, yet so broken and shattered. You didn't waste time running into Harry's arms, sobbing quietly into each other. He took your chin to his eyes. "We'll fix this. We have to try, no more beating around the bush if this is gonna be fixed." You nodded. "Of course."
"And maybe one day....he'll come back....and we'll be better." You added. You could feel Harry smiling into your scalp, kissing it gently.
And you prayed you and Harry could. And that you could be that happy little family in a white house with a picket fence.
This took me a week to work on!!! Hope you liked it!!!
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Hello Lovelies! I need your help!!
HAPPY SPRING TO YOU!! 🐣🐰🌸
First of all, if you haven't I would love for you guys to read the newest part of our story, I really put my blood sweat and tears into it, find the link HERE! And then please come talk to me about it!
ALSO I NEED YOUR HELP
If you went to LOT or you have any recollection of iconic moments in the concerts please send them in!
I already have covered MSG N3 because it was the concert I was lucky enough to attend but I am missing all other dates, I would really appreciate your help because these are things I want to include in the diary for Baby Styles 🥰🥰
For right now I need Vegas and Dallas so your help is truly valuable to me <3
I love you guys!
Mar
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Updated Masterlist!!!
Hey everyoneeee here is my updated masterlist. I fist off wanted to apologize for the inactivity. I’ve been really going through it so far this year but I’m going to push through and focus on giving you guys what you want. My amazing writing.
This masterlist will consist of works that I’ve only completed so it won’t confuse you guys. As usual, I’m going to keep it strictly Austin Butler and Harry Styles. My roots!!!!
You can find these by either tapping on the title or searching for the title on my profile!
Any writing that contain smut, will have a 🔞 emoji near it or a *.
So with that being said, here is my updated Masterlist!!!
Austin Butler:
Dreaming of You (pt 1)🔞 *
Longing for You (pt 2)🔞*
Wearing Your Shirt (Imagine)🔞*
Harry Styles:
Late Night Talking (Imagine)
Hosting (Blurb)
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stylessupremacy · 2 years
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"I am proud of you, baby girl"
Single dad harry
I have two of these so I'm doing one for each my famous and non-famous tropes!
“C’mon Phee, show nana what you’ve been learning at swim lessons,” Harry said as he was standing in the shallow end of Anne’s pool looking towards his daughter who stood at the edge of it.
Ophelia has been taking swim lessons for a month since she turned two. It was every Saturday from eight to nine-thirty in the morning. After the swimming lesson, Harry and Ophelia would take off to the grocery store for their weekly food expedition.
This past swim lesson was all about jumping into the water - with a responsible adult ready to catch them. Ophelia was very scared at first, not quite sure if she was ready to be out of her father's safe embrace. After some soft reassurance from him telling her he wouldn't let anything happen to her she built up the courage to do it.
Ophelia tried it once she loved it and Harry couldn’t get her to stop wanting to do it. Now that same shy little Ophelia came back as she shook her head at her father not wanting to jump in.
“Hey, why are y’scared all of a sudden? Y’loved jumping in the pool just the other day,” Harry tried as he leaned against the poolside making Ophelia back away. Her movement away from him broke his heart and he wasn’t sure why she was being like this.
Harry sighed, “Daddy will be right here to catch you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Ophelia plopped her swim diaper-clad bottom on the cement, “Wha’ if y’don’ catch me?”
Harry visibly relaxed at her response, “Oh m’heart, daddy will be right here to catch you no matter what. Let’s give it a try, yeah?”
Ophelia stood on uneasy legs - still learning how to master walking, and made her way over the edge again. She built up her courage and jumped in the water. Harry caught her and brought her up to rest on his hip.
“See, that wasn’t so bad m’love,” Harry said as he gave her a comforting kiss on her head. “Again daddy,’ Ophelia giggled.
After many, many jumps in the pool, Ophelia eventually tired herself out and was resting against her father's chest as he lounged on the poolside. Before Ophelia drifted off for a very much-needed nap Harry whispered, “I’m so proud of you, baby girl,” and kissed her on her head before she completely drifted to dreamland.
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