Harry Styles Blurb - Tumblr Posts

Concept: Y/N never was the girl who could make the guy fall for her in first look. She didn’t have the perfect body, or the ideally pretty face. She was beautiful in her own way, and a hard working girl. Nor did she have one of those personalities that would make guys go crazy and chase her. She was just nice, passionate about her own things, and gave her best everywhere she could.

So, it wasn’t strange to understand that Harry Styles didn’t fall for her when they met. She was a friend of one of his friends, and they had just met on one of the trips she had tagged along to. Everyone had nice things to say about her, and she was successful at her work. But, again she wasn’t like those who would make you turn around again, and her charm wasn’t like those girls who’d spark a fire in you.

Plus, Harry had a girlfriend. They were doing fine. A bit of a lull period, but fine. And, Y/N was just a friend who Harry had never noticed like that. Never thought about her after, or was physically/sexually attracted to, she was just a friend.

But, suddenly, this May, she was everywhere. It started with her getting carrot cake to Harry’s hotel in Hong Kong. She was there on the same day, and she had heard Harry was a bit sad. They had spent the night talking, and he had asked her to stay for his concert before she had to head back to L.A.

You see, Y/N was a person who had to slowly be loved. Loving her wasn’t motivated from her surface, but through time spent with her. Time spent with her made Harry realise how utterly wonderful she is, and he could never understand how he looked over her. He persuaded her to come to Japan with him as well. And, Harry realised that falling for Y/N was falling in deep. Falling completely for her, and never wanting to get out. That loving Y/N came from her depth, and once you had loved her, getting out of it was just not possible.

But, Harry had a girlfriend. And Y/N had always been there.

Should I work on this? Let me know!

oleander

oleander part one: nothing could draw y/n in the way harry could

wordcount: 11.7k+

cw: this leans into some darker themes including a description of a dead body, mentions of a parent who has passed away, some panic attack descriptions, and just in general some doom and gloom vibes! but I promise this is a love story im just doing something diferent!

—————

(Y/N)'s eyes followed the immaculately dressed figure floating through the shop. Barred from getting closer with the counter in front of her, she could only watch as he made his way through the small apothecary. He never glanced in her direction, though she doubted he was unaware of her eyes on him. 

Dried herbs hung around his head like a dreary halo, the muted tones falling in line with the rich brown of his hair. He was tall enough that he just barely grazed the line of lavender sprigs strung up and dehydrating above his head. His coat was of a deep green velvet, tailored to show off the broad of his shoulders and strength of his arms. The matching cravat around his neck stood out starkly against the white shirt under his grey waistcoat, his skin appearing almost as pale as the starchy collar standing stiff against his throat. She wished that he would turn around for just a second; she wanted to see his eyes. Were they really as dark as she remembered, or had the town's gossip altered her memory? 

As if hearing her thoughts, he quickly picked his head up and made to turn and match her gaze. She urgently dropped her eyes to her hands, pretending as if she had been preoccupied the whole time by the bundles of sage she was meant to be tying. Now her wishes turned to that of hoping he didn't catch her staring. She was sure he got enough of that as is when he bothered to venture down to their small village; he didn't need any more when he was simply trying to shop. 

Forcing herself to keep her eyes down, (Y/N) tried to forget the Count's presence (was he even a Count? She wasn't sure, but that was what she had heard the women at church calling him, and no one seemed to object). She hoped he couldn't hear the sound of her heart as easily as she could, the beats pounding through her ears just from the fact she knew he was traipsing around her father's shop. Casting her gaze out the small window situated by the collection counter, she tried to see past the thick fog that had gathered that morning and done little to dissipate through the hours. If not for the fact she had lived here all her life, she would have had problems navigating through the mist. She wondered how someone like the Count fared under these conditions. He barely left that castle of his, how did he or his footmen know where they were going this time of year?

Granting herself a single peek in his direction, she saw he had gone back to shopping. He moved so silently, she wondered how he was able to cross the apothecary so vastly without a single footstep being heard. She watched as he brought bundles of herbs to his nose, taking in the heady scent. He always did this, she noticed. He always looked around until he found the strongest smelling bundles. 

Truthfully, to (Y/N), all the bundles smelled the same. She couldn't notice if one sprig of lavender smelled richer than another, but maybe he knew something she didn't. It wouldn't surprise her if he spent his young years studying herbs and reading books about all of the healing plants, or whatever it was that young gentlemen did in their formative years.

Though it was a hard task to pull her eyes away from him, (Y/N) made the effort to do so. Her father really would be upset if she didn't tie up all these bundles before sundown; he barely liked her working at the apothecary as is, he didn't need any other reason to boot her from the counter.

With her eyes trained on her fingers and the clumsy bows she was tying out of twine, (Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Pale hands dropped bundles of herbs on the counter, just barely in her line of sight. Her breathing stuck in her throat when she whipped her head up, finding the Count looking at her with his dark eyes. 

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green on the edges—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any distinction.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?" 

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod. 

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle. 

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender. 

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine how he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive. 

Though she tried her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir." 

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this. 

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes. 

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding routes and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop. 

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at the swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident. 

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up his product, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home. 

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grazing this time. 

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm." 

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost—one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vaguely aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left. 

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village with daydreams that were only going to hurt her in the long run. 

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time. 

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone. 

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what precisely had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought Harry to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners? 

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks at the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything. 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist. 

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?" 

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring. 

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was. 

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "From now on, I want you to find me when he comes in, and I will take over. I do not want him talking with you." 

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary. 

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway." 

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

Her lips thinned at his words. "All of those stories are rubbish, father, you know that," she pressed, her words lighthearted despite the argument she was wagering by not immediately giving in, "Since when have we started listening to what Mary and Ethel have to say?" 

He didn't break any, even when she knew she was making a valid point to him. Gossip was prohibited according to the Bible, and yet he was citing stories she had heard the worst of gossipers weave?

There was no real reason for anyone to believe that Harry had anything to do with what had been going on just outside of the village, he was just easy to pin it on seeing as no one really knew him. She doubted any of them—including Ethel and Mary—could actually believe that he was the one behind the bodies that had been found in the woods, and the disappearances that had been added to the murder count. 

From what she'd heard, all signs pointed to animal attacks—wolves, or bears, or anything viscous. Though her stomach curdled at the thought, she couldn't see the Count being the one to rip out commoner's throats, to leave them crumpled in the brush with blood sinking into the earth. All of it was gossip and evil rumors that had not even a shred of truth inside.

"Still," her father stated, countering her argument, "There's something wrong with him, (Y/N)." 

Wrong was very far from threatening as far as she was concerned, especially when it came to Harry. Though, this most likely wasn't the time to share that opinion. She would keep her thoughts about him to herself, her own small secret against the rest of the village.

Harry didn't scare her like he did the rest of them, but they didn't need to know that. 

"Okay," she relented with a quiet nod, turning back to the collection cup so she could pass off the earnings to her father. "I will come grab you next time." 

(Y/N) wasn't sure if it was the additional shillings added to the cup or her pleasant agreement that had her father's features relaxing with a small smile on his lips, but she wasn't going to object.

Besides, she wasn't going to actually follow through on her promise. Harry was her favorite customer, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. Her father would have to try harder to steer her clear of Harry.

—————

(Y/N) struggled with the strap of her shopping baskets, one hanging from her shoulder over her back with another dangling from her hand. They were stocked full and heavy, filled with everything her father requested that morning before she was sent off. She hadn't even realized how late she was running with her errands, how many items she had picked up and how heavy her bags were becoming until the sun had already gone down and her shoulder ached with the amount she had packed in. 

With the season's change, the sky was almost pitch by the time she made it to the edge of the village, the air chilled and crisp. Her father was going to have her head for making it back so late, but what could he have expected, really? He was the one that wrote the list, knowing half of the items were only available in the neighboring village. 

She hummed as she followed the path, giving herself some company and filling the silence. She hated being out this late—the dark scared her more than it probably should at her age. 

Her steps slowed as the bag hanging from her shoulder once again began to shift. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't stay put. She attempted to adjust the strap once more as she cautiously stepped over the path. 

With her attention placed elsewhere, she didn't notice the man in her way until she bumped directly into him. 

Her heart started in her chest, rattling against her ribs. She jumped back, whipping her head up with wide eyes. Before her stood the familiar dark-haired figure she had seen just a week prior, pursuing through the apothecary. 

Harry's cut features were pinched with a furrowed brow, his dark eyes trained on her. He was pale like a ghost compared to his dark clothing that blended in with the rest of the night. He reached out to steady her, baskets and all, when she tottered on the low heel of her boot. 

His touch singed her like snowflakes as he grasped at her bare arms. 

"H-Harry," she gasped, his name falling from her lips before she had a chance to collect her bearings. Her skin warmed when her brain caught up with herself; she'd never called him by his name before—or called to him at all now that she thought about it. "I am so s-sorry." 

What exactly she was apologizing for—using his name so brashly or running right into him—she wasn't sure, but she could cover for both, she figured. 

"It is alright," he murmured to her, his hands lingering on her biceps, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, thank you," she asserted, "I wasn't looking where I was going. It has been a long day." 

Tipping his head, as if her word wasn't enough, Harry looked her over before dropping his hands from her arms and taking a calculated step back.  

"I'm sure it was," he said to her, his voice still a low whisper, "Is what why you are out so late?" 

(Y/N) eased into the conversation, despite knowing it was more than a little inappropriate to be alone with a man this late into the evening. She was flattered the Count wanted to speak to her at all, honestly. He always seemed so eager to flee from the apothecary and the rest of the village during his visits. In her dreamland, she liked to think that he actually enjoyed seeing her, this run-in being his opportunity to speak to her without all of the prying eyes trained on him. 

"Yes," she sighed, shifting the small basket on her aching wrist to the other, "I had to do the shopping today, and my father always requests things he knows I have to search all over for, so I've been busy since I woke up." 

Harry hummed at her words, his dark eyes seemingly lighting up with amusement at her trivial complaint. He eyed the heavy bags she was carrying before he met her eyes once more. "Would it be alright if I accompany you back home? It's too dark for a lady like yourself to be walking alone."

Biting back a smile, (Y/N) felt her blood warm under her skin. Someone of his status would know a lady when he looked at one, and (Y/N) definitely wasn't. He had to be teasing her. 

"I'm no lady," she explained, though she didn't sound that convincing under her smile, "But, I think I would really enjoy some company. Thank you." 

(Y/N) was well aware of what it would look like to be walked home by Harry at this time of night, alone on the path and unchaperoned. It would have been bad enough with any man, but seeing as this was the Count, she could only imagine the kinds of rumors Mary and Ethel would spin. The fluttering in her heart urged her to ignore those worries, though; Harry most likely knew better about societal standards than she, given their stations, and he had enough rumors swirling about him that he wouldn't want to add to if he could help it. If he wasn't worried, then she wouldn't either. 

"Lead the way," he said, smiling at her with dazzlingly perfect teeth. 

"Its not too far," she started, peering down the path to see the late night tavern still boiling with people and the small homes that decorated the mouth to the village. "It's just down that way," she told him, nodding her head in the direction they were to take. 

Before she went too far, she adjusted her grocery-laden baskets once more, barely holding back a wince at the weight on her shoulder. 

Harry still seemingly noticed even if she had tried to be discreet. He didn't immediately follow her steps back home. "Let me carry those for you. They can't be too comfortable after such a long day." 

While she was sure it was good form to decline his offer, feign strength she didn't have and continue on without complaint, she wasn't going to pass up on the offer to relieve the stress on her shoulder. 

"I would really appreciate that, actually," she sighed, shifting the basket off her shoulder in a haste, "Thank you." 

"No need to thank me," he answered simply, a pleasant lightness to his features as he took the strap from her hands. He slung it over his own shoulder with an ease (Y/N) could only dream to have. He didn't stop there, taking the smaller one from her wrist as well. 

She was free to roll her joints and feel circulation return to all limbs, more than gracious for her impromptu partner for the night. 

"You said it was this way, yes?" he prompted, starting down the path towards the edge of town where both the apothecary was as well as the flat above it where she and her father resided. 

"That way," (Y/N) affirmed with a smile, falling into step beside him as they started off through town. 

A careful silence fell between them, full of opportunities that twinkled like stars. This was her chance to know him, bask in his presence, learn who she had only gazed at from afar. Though every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she felt her throat dry. He was even more gorgeous under moonlight. 

"You know," he started first, unbraiding the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you come out from behind that counter. I was starting to think you never left; like you were some kind of spirit attached with manning an apothecary at all hours." 

A bubbling peal of laughter felt from (Y/N)'s lips, her hands a fumbling bundle at her waist. "It feels that way, sometimes," she smiled, "But I promise I do have more hobbies than only drying herbs and counting coin." 

"And what might those be?" the Count pressed, looking down at her. In the low light, (Y/N) expected his eyes to look impossibly dark, more like coal than even in the daylight, but she found that ring of green to show more prominently now under the moon. 

"Um," she floundered, tearing her eyes away from his when she felt goosebumps raise over her skin and her heart bounce against her lungs, "I-I like to tend to our garden—for the shop." 

"I didn't know grow everything yourself. That must keep you rather busy." 

(Y/N) shrugged, "It can, depending on the season. But, I've figured it out through the years, and made it easier on me."

"You grow everything for your shop, then?" Coming up to a fork in the path, Harry paused, waiting for (Y/N) to take the first step in the right direction before he followed. 

"Most of it," she mused, an immediate list of their inventory coming to mind, "There's still a few things that I have to scavenge for, but I've become rather good at that as well."

"I don't doubt that," Harry smiled, the curl audible in his voice, "Was it your idea then to start the shop? Fill it with all the things you could grow?" 

"Oh, no," she declined, a furrow appearing in her brow, "My father and mother started the apothecary when my sister and I were still babies." 

"I don't think I've met your sister or mother," Harry shared, casting his gaze towards her once more, refractions of green shimmering in his irises.

While (Y/N) dreaded the subject, she couldn't exactly complain since she had been the one to bring them both up. Truthfully, it wasn't hard to talk about any more, it was harder to field the reactions of those around her when she shared the story. It was never easy to quell retroactive grief. 

"My sister married and moved to the country almost two years ago," she started easy, keeping her gaze forward, "My mother passed away when I was a child." 

When the Count didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) peeked up to find him looking at her differently than before. She didn't find pity swimming through his eyes, only sympathy. He looked at her like he knew her pain. 

"It is a hard thing, losing family," he murmured, shifting his gaze towards the sky, "But, it can only grow easier as time goes on." 

Tracing her eyes over his profile, through the immaculate stone-like chisel of his features and unblemished skin, she swore she could spot the same fine lines by his eyes and slight crease between his brows that she and her sister had sustained since their mother passed. 

She swallowed, hoping her next line of questioning didn't breach too far. "Have you lost family before?" 

"I have," he smiled, though it didn't completely reach those fine lines by his eyes, "It was a long time ago. It's funny how after a while, you can forget what it was like before." 

Though (Y/N) loved her mother dearly and cherished those memories she had with her, she had been without her for longer than she had been with her. She knew what Harry was talking about, exactly. Missing her mother was just a part of her now, and it wasn't anything she tired to push away or get over. She grew around the grief and held onto her mother in that space. 

"Exactly," she agreed, relieved to not be trying to quell someone else's grief and pity for her, "I've remembered her for longer than I actually knew her, but it does not upset me any more." 

"Good," Harry cemented, "She wouldn't want you to be bothered by her memory." 

Looking ahead, the town square was approaching with the town's tavern still full despite the late hour. That was the one place that could be bustling at any time of night, any day of the week. (Y/N) hoped no one would peer through the windows and catch her late night stroll. 

"I apologize for speaking so morbidly," (Y/N) laughed, though she didn't exactly feel guilty to be learning that much more about Harry, "Since you know more about me, I would like to know more about you." 

"I'm sure we could arrange that," he smiled that dazzling smile, "What would you like to know?" 

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in the village before, except for when you do your shopping," (Y/N) mused, hoping to learn a little bit more about what he did up in that castle of his. 

She watched as he shrugged, still completely unbothered by the weight of her shopping. "I come out every once in a while," he prattled, "But I suppose we never have run into each other until now. What a shame." 

Her blood warmed at his final comment. He really must be teasing her, trying to pull those shy reactions from her. 

Before she had a chance to say much in response, the rowdy tavern only a few meters ahead burst open with sloppy patrons spilling onto the street. The men were undoubtedly drunk as was apparent in the slurring of their shouts and the stumbling of their feet. Everything was too loud for the quiet of the night, including the calls coming from inside the bar, urging the few that had escaped to come back inside. The night couldn't already be over, it was still early, those beckoning voices said. 

Maybe it was the dark of the night, the fact she had never been around anyone drunk enough to slur their words, or the stark sound of it all, but (Y/N) startled at the disturbance. She almost jumped out of her skin, her feet stumbling with her heels digging into the crumbling sidewalk. She could hear a gasp falling from her throat though she couldn't remember making the noise herself. 

Before she had time to recover, Harry had swiftly tugged her to his other side. She was now covered by his body with her other side sandwiched with the walls of the other buildings lining the street. From where the drunken men stood, she doubted they would be able to accurately spot her given her new cover.

"Thank you," she murmured, her thrumming heart beginning to slow finally. 

When he didn't respond, she looked up to find him shooting daggers towards the men that were being pulled back into the tavern. His sharp jaw was clenched shut with his eyes narrowed in their direction. 

"Harry?" she sounded, breaking him from whatever he had running through his head. 

He whipped his head to face her once more, blinking with a flutter of curling lashes. 

"Yes, sorry," he finally responded, "My apologies, I would have pulled you away sooner had I seen them coming." 

"It's alright," she tried to soothe, giving him a small smile, "The shop is just up there, I think I can survive a little while longer." 

He cast his gaze over her form for just a beat longer, his shoulder relaxing some by the time he met her eyes again. "I'll make sure of it," Harry teased, cracking a smile at her. 

They shared those final paces in silence, (Y/N) feeling rather proud of herself and a bit giddy to have had him at her side for this long, his attention on her. By the time the dark apothecary topped with the small flat came into view, she almost wished they would round the block once more. She still had more she wanted to ask him. 

"It has been a pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he bowed to her, carefully pulling her shopping baskets from his shoulder and wrist, "I hope I will see you again soon—maybe we'll run into each other like this more often." 

"Maybe," she smiled, taking the bags from him, "Thank you for escorting me home, and helping with my baskets." 

"It's my pleasure," he repeated once more, the green in his eyes flashing with amusement, "Have a good night." 

Inching towards the door, (Y/N) gave him a nod. "Good night, Harry." 

A soft lipped smile on his marble-perfect face was the last thing (Y/N) saw before she was stepping inside the apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled, alerting her father who would no doubt still be awake upstairs.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" he called down the stairs, the creak of his favorite rocking chair sounding as he stood. 

"Yes, sorry!" she answered, bracing herself to trek up the steep stairs to the flat with her body weighed down with all of the groceries. "I didn't mean to take so long." 

"I don't like you staying out so late after the sun goes down," her father chided her, pulling the bags from her form and taking them towards the tiny kitchen, "There's no telling what could be waiting in the dark." 

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut as her father went off on his complaints. She didn't mention Harry once.

—————

Dressed in her favorite nightgown with her hair braided back with the same twine she tied her herbs with, (Y/N) peered once more out her window, finding the same black cat that had been out there since she readied for bed still sitting in the garden. 

Her moon-yellow eyes were bright in the dark as she stalked and played with the bugs that threatened the state of (Y/N)'s herb garden. She had never seen the cat before, but she was tempted to convince her father to let her bring the creature inside. She would be a good pet, (Y/N) decided. 

Laying back against her pillows, only dim candle light allowing her to see her ceiling, (Y/N) cast her mind back to the hours earlier. Her day had been terribly uneventful, but had ended in heart-fluttering territory. 

Though she realized, thinking back to the conversation she had indulged in on her walk home, she never caught why Harry was out so late by himself, anyway.

—————

Grey clouds crowded the sky as (Y/N) carefully stepped over the vining brush at her feet. The hem of her dress snagged once or twice on some of the thorny bushes and the rough bark covering unearthed roots. Acres of towering trees formed a canopy above her head, barely letting any of the limited light through. She had her eyes on the ground as she tried to scope out those few herbs she wasn't able to cultivate at the home garden. The basket at her hip was already teeming with a good handful of different bundles, but she still needed to find some winter savory.

More than once, her mind wandered as she trekked through the trees. It had been a week since she had last seen Harry, and yet he was still the one thing that floated through her mind whenever she drifted to her daydreams. She could still see the line of his profile, backlit by the cloudy moonlight. In her dreams, she had the courage to reach out and trace over the line, grazing the bridge of his nose and the dip of his cupid's bow. He grew more and more gorgeous every time she revisited her memories. 

She was already known to have her head in the clouds, dreams too big for the village to contain, but she definitely floated upwards more and more since seeing Harry. 

A small smile worked its way onto her lips the longer she wafted through her reverie. (Y/N) liked to think that if she had acted on that impulse—dragging her fingertip along the planes of his features—that he would have cracked a smile, showing off the thumbed dimples and dazzling teeth. Maybe, he would have even looked at her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest before dipping her in the middle of the street. He could kiss her then, the moment romantic and brazen and—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw the dead body on the forest floor. 

If not for the pallor of her skin, she could have assumed this woman had fallen asleep peacefully among the brush. She looked to be around (Y/N)'s age, unbound hair spilling around her head. Her eyes were closed with her features set in a serene scene and arms crossed over her chest. Her palms were pressed flat over her collarbones, the same way those in coffins were laid to rest six feet under. The pose reminded her of her mother.

Though all of that tranquility went to hell when she saw her throat. 

While the woman had been laid to rest with utmost respect, that didn't take away from the fact her throat was ripped open. (Y/N) swore her own esophagus grew sore and tight while looking at the women. The skin had been slashed out of the way by something sharp and angry, revealing frayed sinew and torn muscle. The raw red hue stood out starkly against the snowy pallor her skin had taken on. Something had attacked her, taking out her throat and leaving her to die right where she lay. 

The most unsettling part, (Y/N) realized the longer she stood there, was that there was no blood. Where she expected to see a crimson crust forming around the wood or a puddle haloing the woman's form, there was nothing. Her wound didn't even look that gruesome, truly. It was clinically clean instead, as if a healer had already cared for her and planned on bandaging the tear before letting her head home. She had been bled completely dry, leaving her with rubbery skin, thin veins, and a clean white dress. 

She had heard about these incidences—people going missing only to turn up later dead—but she never pictured it was like this. To her, everything sounded as if wanderers were attacked in the woods are lost through the elements. Never once through her forages in the area had she ever met the face of someone whose life was taken so decidedly.

(Y/N) wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and panic and run. But, she just stood there. 

Time was stuck as she saw the woman with long red hair, unblemished skin, and a fine gown. 

All at once, the severity of the situation flooded back to her. 

Her sore throat was split open with a loud scream, blood-curdling and eye-watering. She dropped her basket to the floor, returning the herbs to where she had plucked them, before she sprinted towards home. Her dress caught on the thorns of the brush, her feet stumbling over the unearthed roots. None of the obstacles slowed her. She tugged her dress free with every pump of her legs, keeping herself steady with nothing other than the will of adrenaline and fear pushing he along. 

She didn't realize she had been crying until she saw the edge of the village in sight, her cheeks burning with her hands going numb. A man she recognized as one of her father's friends was out in his garden, cultivating the family vegetables when he looked up to see her, concern striking his features. 

"(Y/N)," the man called out, his voice echoing over the space.

Stumbling in her tracks, she fought to keep herself steady. Instinctively, she wanted to keep running until she made it back to her bedroom with her safety intact. She knew she couldn't do that, though. She had to tell someone about the woman, find her family and lay her to rest properly. 

Find who had hurt her. 

"Th-There—She's—Dead," (Y/N) panted, floundering around her jumbled mind. She couldn't find a single coherent thought in her head. 

The man's thick brows only furrowed as he cautiously approached her. "Dead?" he pressed, making himself appear smaller as if she were the creature to be cowering from for survival. 

Hearing someone else say the word had another round of sobs wracking through her body. "Sh—The girl—She's dead. In the woods, there's been another." 

Horror took the man's features. Blood drained from his face, leaving him shades paler than just moments before. 

"Another?" he asked, "Like the others?" 

"I-I think so," she stuttered, moments away from crumbling to the ground. She couldn't be sure if the state this young woman had been in was what the rest of the others had gone through. She hope it wasn't.

A curse was uttered under his breath before he shouted towards his home. He called for his wife, a woman (Y/N) vaguely knew from church. It only took a moment for a woman to stick her head out of the doorway, her features screwing up in worry the second she saw (Y/N)'s blubbering form.

She was only vaguely aware of the man explaining to his wife what (Y/N) had shared, and that he was going to get the others together to recover the body and care for her. His wife needed to take care of her, inform her father of what (Y/N) had seen today. 

Time moved impossibly slow while racing through each second simultaneously. At some point, she checked out, shock setting in as she came to terms with everything she had seen. By the time she returned, she had been deposited on the stoop of the church, a knitted blanket around her shoulders. Shivers wracked down her spine though she could feel herself breaking into a thin sweat. Many of the women of the village had swarmed around her, including Mary and Ethel. Feet away, her father was speaking with the vicar of the church. 

"Drink this, dear," Mary said, shoving a warm mug of something in her hands. 

(Y/N) made no move to follow her given directly, loosely gripping the cup in her palms. Her gaze was barely focused, tears still running down her cheeks, as she absently stared at the cobblestone under her boots. 

Every time she blinked, she saw the bloodless wound on the woman. Her thin, lavender eyelids masking unseeing eyes. Her thin fingers, the pale skin barely covering the bones underneath. The sections of her neck that were frayed and ripped, matching that of the hem of her dress. 

Murmurs arose once more around her. (Y/N) had no doubt there was already speculation about who could have done this—who would have killed someone in such a way that an onlooker end up as traumatized as the dead. A part of her brain pinged, knowing that Mary and Ethel would no doubt be peering accusingly at the castle in the distance, their accusations known without a single word leaving their lips. 

Now more than ever, having seen a body, (Y/N) had no doubt that Harry had nothing to do with these disappearances. 

No human could do what she saw in the woods. 

—————

"Let me grab my coat, and John and I will escort you back home." 

(Y/N) did her best to school her features, regulate her reaction before reaching a gentle hand on Margret's shoulder to keep her from ascending the stairs. 

"Oh, no," (Y/N) declined, canting her head with a soft smile, "You've already been too kind tonight. I can make it on my own—home's barely a block away." 

Margret chewed her lip between her teeth, looking over her shoulder to where her parents were standing by the hearth. So many eyes were on them and their interaction. 

"Really, Marg," (Y/N) tried again, "My father and I appreciate everyone's kindness enough, I would hate to put you out even more and make you go out in a storm like this." 

"But," Margret started, "I don't want to leave you alone. The storm is bad enough without everything that... happened." 

Almost two weeks had passed since (Y/N)'s run-in in the woods, and yet the village's paranoia was at an all-time high. Her father had been at her side near constant since he had finished speaking with the vicar, promising her that he wouldn't let that happen again—finding something so gruesome, as well as a silent promise that she wouldn't become the gruesome sight. He had been shaken by her reaction, telling the vicar that he had never seen her so vulnerable, on the edge of hysterics. 

Any herb they couldn't grow in the garden would now be out of stock until he himself could forage through the woods, but she would never be tasked with going by herself. Otherwise, he was going to be at her side as often as he could be, ensuring she was never alone. If he couldn't be there, then he had pooled together a batch of close family friends who would be willing to stand in for him. She would never be by herself, never vulnerable to another fright. 

(Y/N) was losing her mind. 

Everyone walked on eggshells around her, having seen her breakdown in real time. They heeded her father's request as if law, never allowing her even a second of alone time if not in the safety of her bedroom. Even her time in the garden had been reduced to a field trip for every young woman who was tasked to be at her side, chattering about the most lighthearted of subjects.

While in a few ways, (Y/N) couldn't blame her father, she selfishly didn't really care. She needed her freedom, even if that freedom came in the form of a short walk to her home by herself. 

"I promise I will be alright," (Y/N) tried to soothe her friend, offering her beaming smile to Margret's parents and brother as well. "Thank you all for dinner, please don't let me add to the burden by making you all escort me home in a storm. I would never forgive myself if any of you fell ill." 

It was Margret's mother that seemed to waver from (Y/N)'s reasoning. She most likely didn't want her children out in the rain, either. (Y/N) wasn't the only one in the village that needed to be protected from whatever lived in the woods. 

Peering over her shoulder, Margret searched for her parents blessing that came in the form of a small dip of her father's chin. 

"I will come visit you in the morning, then," Margret cemented, "to make sure you're alright." 

"I look forward to it," (Y/N) chirped, bringing her friend in for a small hug before inching towards the front door. She gave her beaming smile to the rest of the family. "Thank you again," she said, "Dinner was wonderful. I'll have to steal the recipe sometime, Mrs. Wayfield." 

"I'll send it with Margret in the morning, dear," she said, her smile tight, "Get home safe. Don't linger longer than you have to." 

"Absolutely," (Y/N) promised, pulling the hood of her purple cloak over her head. 

Final goodbyes were shared before (Y/N) stepped outside, the raging storm that had been rattling the roof of the home now whipping against her form.

As much as the wind stung her eyes and the rain chilled her skin, she reveled in the experience. She was alone, finally. 

Despite what Mrs. Wayfield said, she definitely lingered longer than she needed to, allowing the rain to soak her cloak and begin to seep through her dress. She had never been one to steep in the rain or bask in storms, but that was going to be changing tonight. 

The direct walk home was decidedly short, taking less than a block's worth of steps to take her there, but she was going to make it as long as possible. She might even take the scenic route, stepping through the center of town for no reason at all other than she wanted to. 

Heavy droplets of rain weighed down her cloak the longer she took outside, the wind whipping the hem around her in waves. Taking her time, she ambled over the cobblestones of the town square, ignoring the drops that slipped over her warm cheeks. 

Suddenly, the storm changed once she reached the center of town. 

Before, it had been nothing but rain and wind, the kind of storm that would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Something shifted in a matter of moments, taking the wind and amping it up into swirling chills. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, making shadowy ghosts of all the buildings and turning the trees into bony hands reaching towards the heavens. Thunder rattled the Earth a moment later. The large drops of rain quickly became a heavy downpour, slicking down her form until her clothing was stuck to her body and her eyes were struggling to blink through the droplets. Every time she peeked through slitted eyes, the sheets slammed down thick enough she could barely see through it.

The scenic route no longer seemed fun now that she was out here. She should have just gone home like she promised. 

(Y/N) had to step carefully over the cobblestones, not trusting the grip of her boots over the cracks. She wished she could sprint though the barrage, but she would no doubt lose her footing and smash her face into the rocky ground if she did. 

Instead, she kept her head down and tried to navigate back home through the rain, lacking sight. She kept her pace as steady as possible, giving all her focus to the task of making it home, though she was vaguely aware of a familiar panic growing in her chest. 

As much as she had wanted to be alone, take time by herself and live in the village without her father's word being law, she still saw the gruesome body every time she closed her eyes. (Y/N) had nightmares of that moment she had come across the young woman, though this time she blinked her eyes open when (Y/N) grew close enough before snatching at her foot. A shaky breath expanded (Y/N)'s lungs at the childish fear that something could even be following behind her at the moment. She would have no idea if there was; every sound was drowned out by the pouring rain, her sight impaired by the water running over her eyes and the heavy sheets acting like a fog over the village. 

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) whipped her head around, trying to catch the monster in the act of following her. Unsurprisingly, no one was there. 

She was alone, just as she had wished. 

Spinning around, the village was completely vacant. No one knew she was out here. No one would even know if she had been snatched like that young woman. Not until she was found again.

That flare of panic in her chest rose again, clogging her throat and thickening her head. 

She needed to get out of here. Being alone wasn't worth this. She should have just taken up Margret and John on their offer and gone straight to her room. She could have found her alone time on another day. 

Picking the first direction in front of her, (Y/N) stormed through. This had to take her home, right? She had lived in this flat almost all of her life, she wouldn't forget where it was. 

Until, of course, (Y/N) noticed she had taken the complete wrong direction, heading towards the opposite end of the village. A strike of lightning lit up the grey sky, showing off the vague shadow of the towering castle in the distance. 

The Count's home. She had to turn around; she was no where close to the apothecary. 

This time, when (Y/N) spun around, trying to find a direction to head through her woolen throat and mounting panic, she couldn't decide. What if she went the wrong way again? What if she ended up back in the town center? 

What if she died out here? 

The morbid turn of her thoughts took her breath away. 

She was stunned in place, unable to make any move in any direction. 

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, stilling her shaking form. 

"(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?" 

(Y/N) stumbled, turning around to face to familiar voice speaking right behind her. 

There, backlit by another round of lightning and thunder, was Harry. 

His hair was almost black under the rain, near soaked despite having barely been out in the elements for longer than a few moments. His velvet jacket grew darker with every drop absorbed into the thick fabric. He pale skin was a beacon in the gloom. 

"H-Harry?" 

"You can't stay out here, (Y/N). You're going to fall ill, or worse," he told her, concern dripping from his tone the same way the rain clumped through the length of her lashes. 

When she gave her body permission to do so, she wasn't sure, but in a heartbeat she was clinging to his form. He was her safety in the middle of his storm, keeping her from falling victim to the most morbid of her thoughts. It was beyond improper, but she didn't care as she dug her fingers into his waistcoat. He couldn't leave her here.

"I-I was trying to go home," she whined, her voice fragile under the weight of everything. "I think I'm l-lost." 

She felt pathetic to utter something so silly given she knew this town like the back of her hand, but it was a truth. 

Harry lingered in front of her for a moment, seemingly assessing her before he sprung into action. 

"That's alright," he murmured, speaking as if she were an injured animal, "Let me take you home. I think I remember the way. Is that okay? I have my carriage over there." 

He pointed behind himself, where another slice of lightning revealed a black, boxy carriage led by regal white horses. She could see the vague form of someone sitting in the coach box. 

When she didn't immediately answer, he wrapped a tentative arm around her form. "Let me get you home, (Y/N)." 

She gave an absent nod, willing to let him take her anywhere—anything was better than this, she decided. He bundled her against him as he took her to the side of the carriage, sacrificing an arm holding her middle to open the door. He helped heave her inside, getting her in as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," she peeped when she settled on the bench seat. She kept her eyes on him as he waited a moment, relaying to the driver the new destination.

Her body shook with unstoppable tremors as Harry climbed in after her, her soaked clothing ruining the red velvet under her. She would have to apologize to him later.

It was here, in the dry of his carriage, that (Y/N) realized she was sobbing with rivers of hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn't just the chill of the rain that had her feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she realized. In the safety of the cover, wracking sobs kept her from properly filling her lungs, her inhales way too short to be safe. 

The carriage spun around her despite the way (Y/N) tried to focus on her hands on her lap. This wasn't good, she knew. 

"(Y/N)," she heard, the voice firm and commanding, "Look at me, darling." 

Absently, she pulled her head up to face Harry. 

He was inches away from her. (Y/N) could make out the the shattered shards of green around his black pupils. The strong line of his nose and pillow lips were right there. 

Harry was dazzling. Breathtaking. 

Unfortunately, breathtaking was the last thing she needed right then. 

Before she knew any better, (Y/N)'s lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed on their own accord, her breathing stunted in her lungs. The last thing she was aware of was Harry's panicked call of her name before she spilled over the velvet seat as she lost consciousness. 

—————

When (Y/N) finally cracked her eyes open, her limbs felt impossibly heavy as if she had rocks tied to each end as she sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her bleary sight took it's time clearing, allowing heartbeats to pass before the blurry streaks around her came into focus. 

She was in an immaculate bedroom, she realized. Her body was cushioned by luxurious velvet, dyed a deep crimson. The mattress underneath was plush and inviting, urging her to sink deeper and deeper into the dreamy bedding and warmth it offered. A length of fur ran across the end of the bed, tickling her bare ankles as she stretched. 

Sitting up where she had been nestled atop the bed, more and more of her head came to her. The bed was even more opulent that she thought. Four posters shot up from around the frame, holding curtains made of delicate black lace. Her hands ached just looking at it, thinking about how long it would take to make something so beautiful, even with the help of one of those sewing machines. More furs and velvet decorated the large space; everything honing in on the darker spectrum of colors. Here and there, pops of gold thread appeared like minute rays of sunlight. At the bedside was a bouquet of cut flowers, all in rich violet hues and smelling sweet enough to draw her in like a butterfly. And she almost did, sticking her nose into the tall stalk of trumpet shaped flowers until she realized what kind they were and jerked back. 

Foxglove, she recognized them to be. Poisonous. 

Around the stalk were wisteria blooms and plumes of baby's breath. The wisteria was another set of flowers that were gorgeous to look at, but deadly in the end. 

Pulling away with a stiff back, she set her bare feet on the ground. Now that she was free from the flowers, the woody scent of winter savory and spike of tobacco in the background were the prominent aromas taking her attention. Looking around her, her cloak was dry, laid on the end of her borrowed bed alone with her boots set up in a neat row by her feet. 

This place was extravagant. A fairytale daydream, perfect for her head-in-the-clouds mindset. 

This had to be a castle. No random hut could have something this indulgent.

There was only one castle she knew of. 

Memories came back to (Y/N) in pieces. 

The storm. She had left the Wayfields' home, telling them she would head straight home despite knowing she was lying. She had wanted some time alone, away from her father's overprotective gaze. But the storm was too much. She had pathetically lost her way and panicked, remembering the woman she had found in the woods. 

Then, there was the gleaming black carriage. The ghostly pale face of the Count who offered to take her home, get her out of the rain and into safety before he would be on his way. She remembered him helping her into the carriage, telling the coachman that they needed to drop her back at the apothecary. Her emotions had fluctuated to opposite ends of the spectrum: extreme panic under the sheets of rain to the deep relief she felt at seeing a familiar face who could help her. 

The last few things she could remember was the guilt she felt at ruining the luxe seating in the Count's carriage before looking up to see him facing her directly with his breathtaking features. That was all that had been left before she tumbled back and lost consciousness. 

This was no doubt the Count's home. There had been times she had wondered what kind of interior a building as magnificent as this one would have, but she had never thought of something this indulgent. 

Though, despite her admirations, she couldn't stay here. 

She was never supposed to take even the long walk home, let alone travel all the way to the gargantuan home that the most notorious member of the village resided in. (Naming him as a member of their village was a stretch, but the easiest way for (Y/N) to think at the moment). There was no telling how long she had been out, but her father was going to kill her even if it was ten seconds. 

Despite the ache in her bones and the stiff fabric of her ill dried dress, she forced her boots back on, the laces pulled into clumsy bows. Her cloak was grabbed in a haste before she started towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she needed to get back home as soon as she could.

Swinging open the heavy door, (Y/N) swayed on her feet, stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side. 

Propped against the opposing wall, between more cut flowers and immaculate paintings, was the Count himself. 

He was at attention within a second, but (Y/N) had caught the way he had been slumped against the wall, his shoulders a sullen slope. In an instant, he had crossed the grand hall to meet her at her door, his hands reaching out towards her. His eyes looked darker than ever, only light shatters of deep green apparent in his iris. His usually flawless hair was left in disarray. Somewhere, he had shed his coat and cravat, leaving the billowed sleeves of his shirt and grey waistcoat the only articles on his torso. Even the neckline of his white shirt had been left loose, a stretch of creamy skin on display. 

"Are you okay?" he breathed out, his gaze immediately tripping down her form before she had a chance to answer, "I-I tried to make sure you hadn't injured your head, or-or worse when you fell faint, but I couldn't be positive." 

Her lashes fluttered in a blink as she startled over his concern. She had never seen him so discomposed, his demeanor world's away from calm. 

"I-I'm alright," she breathed, finding her tongue in her dry mouth, "You brought me to your home?" She could vaguely remember him ordering the coachman to take her home, back to the flat above the apothecary. 

He wet his lips, his eyes searching through hers as he collected his words. "When you fell faint," he started, "I was not sure if you would have been alone if I took you home. I was worried; I decided to take you back here, so I could keep an eye on you. That's all, I swear it." 

She was sure he knew just as well as she that being alone like this—unchaperoned, neither of them dressed as they typically should be, no one aware of her whereabouts—was more inappropriate than a single moonlight stroll through town. This could ruin both of them if anyone found out; (Y/N) would be deemed unbecoming for marriage, and the small amount of reputation Harry had would be buried six feet under. 

Throughout all, (Y/N) still found her skin warming, seeing how genuinely he spoke of her and his worry of her well-being. Other than her cloak and boots, she could tell none of her clothing had been tampered with. He had done nothing more than keep an eye on her. 

"Thank you," she swallowed, nodding her head as she allowed a small smile to curl her lips. She felt a bit desperate then, hoping he knew how deep her gratitude went. "Truly, thank you. I-I don't know what happened to me, it was scary." 

"I'm sure it was," he murmured, the tight set to his features loosening the longer she stood in one piece before him. "I am glad I found you when I did." 

"How long has it been?" she asked, noticing not a single window that could give away the time of day. She wasn't even sure if it was still night time.

He deflated some at her words. "A few hours, I think" he shared, dropping his gaze as if realizing just now how long he had been her self-appointed guardian, "The storm finally ended not too long ago. You were exhausted, (Y/N)." 

She had never heard her name wrapped in his voice before. Looking at him now, she was back in that carriage with her lungs stunted and mind only on him. She swore she could see his eyes lightening before her gaze, more and more green coming to the surface like a murky pond under sunlight. The panicked urge she had to race home slowly melted out of her. 

"I'm not surprised," she agreed, finally breaking her gaze from his for no other reason than to allow her breath to come back. She cast her eyes around the opulent space, taking in the priceless art around her, the glossy flooring and detailed decor. "This is your home?" 

"For as long as I can remember," he smiled, pride straightening his shoulders as he followed her line of sight, "It's my sanctuary. If you'd like, I can have the kitchen make something for you and I can give you a tour of the grounds in the meantime." 

Instantly, she wanted to accept. She wanted to see what kind of creations a place like this could make in the kitchen. She wanted to know where he had found such gorgeous, but deadly plantlife. She wanted to know if any of her daydreams had been right about this place. 

Unfortunately, there was that niggling worry that popped back up in the back of her mind. 

"As much as I would love to, I can't," she reluctantly let out, "I have to go home. My father... he's probably rallying the village as we speak, trying to find me before he loses his mind." 

Harry's expression fell, losing that pride over her praise. Nonetheless, he gave her a relenting nod. "I understand," he said, cracking a small smile, "I have had you hidden away for long enough, I suppose. I'll have my staff ready my carriage, and I'll have you home by dawn."

"Thank you," she said earnestly once more, "Really, Harry. I fear where I would be if you hadn't come across me." 

"I do as well," he shared, his voice low as if sharing a secret with her. 

This time, (Y/N) didn't wipe the smile from her lips as she looked up at him. Another shade of green seemingly appeared in his gaze. 

—————

"You're not coming with me?" (Y/N) asked, poking her head out of the door of the coach when Harry didn't immediately follow after her. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to crest the horizon, giving away just how long she had been far from home, though that didn't stop her from stalling. 

"Unfortunately," he said, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside the carriage. He looked up at her from where he stood, holding the door open as he spoke to her. "I have business to attend to very soon; I wouldn't have time to arrange everything if I escorted you this morning. I hope you'll accept my apologies, anyway." 

Though she was disappointed she would lose out on time with him, she couldn't blame him. He must be a busy man if he had this place to call home and a full staff to take care of it. He didn't have time to chauffeur her around the village, even if that was what she wanted. He didn't even have a chance to tell her where he had found the flowers for his bouquets. 

"I suppose I'll forgive you this time," she said, a sly smile on her lips that had Harry's own lips blooming, "But next time, I won't be so lenient." 

"I appreciate your grace, my lady," he played along, offering her that dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. "I promise to see you soon. I feel like I'll need to visit the apothecary sooner rather than later." 

(Y/N) could take that promise. "I will make sure we stay stocked, then." 

"Until next time," Harry said, inching away from the carriage with reluctant steps deeper into the shadows.

"Until next time." 

With that, Harry closed the door to the coach, relaying the destination to the driver. 

With her hands in her lap and heart bubbling in her chest, (Y/N) allowed her cheeks to split with her smile. Definitely better than any kind of daydream her cloudy head had come up with.

—————

As soon as she approached the church, (Y/N) was grateful for the instructions she had given to the coachmen to drop her at the edge of the village, leaving her to be the only one who had seen the carriage at all. As she had suspected, her father really had rallied every able body in the town. She could only imagine she had caught them right before they started combing the woods and terrorizing the neighboring villages until they found her. 

It was Margret who had seen her first, breaking down into tears with a bursting sob before she was running towards (Y/N).

"Where have you been?!" she screamed, collapsing around (Y/N) in a steely hug, "I—We—Everyone thought you were—" 

Margret didn't have to finish her words for (Y/N) to know what had been on the village's mind. 

Before she had a chance to do anything more than reciprocate the hug and draw a breath, her father was barreling over. "(Y/N)!" he shouted, a mix of relief and anger tinting his tone. She doubted he even knew how to feel in that moment. 

"I'm sorry, Margret," (Y/N) muttered, offering a consoling smile before pulling away from her hug. The Wayfields stepped forward to collect their daughter while (Y/N) went towards her father, already dreading the lecture she would receive. "Father, I—" 

The air was stolen from her lungs the second he scooped her into a tight hug. "My daughter," he murmured into her hair, nestling her against his chest, "I thought the worst." 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of the eyes watching their embrace. 

"What happened?" he asked, pulling away to face her with watery eyes and warm cheeks, "Why didn't you stay with Margret and her family? They said you went through the storm alone, promising to come back home." 

(Y/N) felt immense floods of guilt bubble through her system. This wasn't the welcome home she had thought she'd garner. 

"I hadn't meant to frighten anyone," she started, hoping the rest of the village overheard, "I only wanted a minute alone, but I was planning on coming home right away. But, the storm was so heavy, and I scared myself. I was disoriented and ended up a village over. I stayed in their church for the night, until it was safe to come home." 

The lie slipped off her tongue like water, the story planned from her time in the carriage. Her guilt only worsened knowing she was deceiving her father, but she didn't want anyone to know where she had spent the night. Despite the impropriety of the whole thing situation Harry, she didn't want Mary and Ethel chattering to her father that the Count was trying to steal away his daughter and flay her before dropping her in the forest. 

She didn't want Harry to be dragged into this. 

His features tightened at her words, but she could see as he ultimately accepted them. "Okay," he relented before flexing his arms around her in a pulsing hug, "Never again, (Y/N). Do you hear me?" 

"I hear you," she promised, holding him back just as tightly. 

Over his shoulder, she could see the gleaming of a black carriage ascending the trail towards the large castle in the distance.

—————

oleander, if consumed, can slow the heart and cause death within hours.

ahhhhhh! super super super different for myself ngl! I changed a couple of ideas I had just bc I started scaring myself but thank you so much for reading! im so happy im finally putting out a halloween fic! so sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

Champagne Problems

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nodding, you said, "Sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You? You would probably just wilt.

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

"What kind of dog?"

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

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

"And you named him Buddy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A party?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really? No one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See? That wasn't so hard!"

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've never been?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Finally?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/n?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

"See anything you like?"

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

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

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

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

"You decided, then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hayden: Seems fair.

Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hayden?"

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

"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucked in the head?"

"Larissa! Language!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's for my brother, slut."

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

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

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

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

"I think so."

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

"I should explain—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

"His family—"

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See you tomorrow!"

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lunch sounds perfect."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you working on over there?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Harry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What makes you say that?"

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

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

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

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

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

"When?"

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

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

"New Year's."

"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"

"At game night when he kissed your neck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

"You should come with me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W—What about Buddy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fly Away by 5sos-official

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shawn mendes

falling for you by @imagine-that-100

the harvard hoodie by @carliehansonwya

your cheeks by @mendes-soldier97

face mask & other things by @honeymndes

the green room by @literallyshawn

hands by @queen-glamorous

art!major shawn by @daddyshawns

tom holland

reader brings bubba to set by @blissfulparker

somewhat breakfast in bed by @spiderboytotherescue

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no sympathy by @cocochannel00

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@messagefromtheveins ‘s masterlist

@sweetlysilent‘s masterlist 

note: some of the stories i put are deleted by tumblr and i dont know why

updated:

01-10-20

01-11-20

fic rec 2

mad-my most like posts is the fic rec, i decided to make part 2. enjoyyy

harry styles

king of eroda by @spacesbetweenthe-clouds

The one where everyone is tired of catching you and Harry having sex by @harrysroleindunkirk

tom holland

heart eyes by @madmadmilk

protective tessa by @peteparkerspooderman 

I started this but I didn’t finished it, I don’t want it to be in my drafts forever so I’m gonna post it.

Okay, requesting here 🥰

On a break, it’s been a few weeks and they miss each other. Rough make up sex with a really soft aftercare? 🤞🏻

This is so fucking wrong.

You know it’s wrong before he’s even shut the door. Know it as you watch him flip the lock. Know it as you watch him turn to you.

You know it.

And yet, knowing does nothing to stop you from bridging the gap between your bodies as you reach for his jaw.

You straighten onto your tiptoes to level the height difference, shoving your fingers through the soft, pullable curls, and kiss him.

Slip your tongue past his lips as you nearly knock him back into the door.

No waiting. No hesitating. Desperate. Needy. Pathetic.

You know it’s pathetic to need him like this. Know it’s pathetic to fuck him in an Olive Garden bathroom. Know it’s pathetic to miss him.

And yet, again, knowing doesn’t do a damn fucking thing as you feel him pull at your bottom lip and he suck, desperate to taste you.

He tastes like wine and sugar. Each part of his dessert that you watched him eat just to spite you.

You’d agreed to a causal, friendly dinner for old time’s sake. After all, you owed it to yourself and to him to try and cultivate a friendship with the man who used to be the love of your life.

Now he’s just some guy you’re fucking in an Olive Garden restroom.

And maybe that’s all he should be.

You had declined any dessert, seeing as the dinner was already tense enough, and you truly didn’t want to waste another second sitting at the rather small table listening to him moan whenever he took a bite of his food.

Your eyes had narrowed with each lift of his fork, with each smirk as he licked the frosting from his lips, and each flex of his fingers around the stem of the wine glass.

Fucking asshole.

You suppose you have no one to blame but yourself. After the breakup, you were heartbroken. Sure, it was mutual but that didn’t stop the way your heart bled for him.

One night, you’d gotten…embarrassingly tipsy and maybe you had texted him that you were touching yourself to the thought of his hands.

And that was something he would sooner die than forget.

Which is why he used your friendly, casual dinner to add a bit more fire to the flame.

And despite yourself…it worked.

“Fucking missed me, yeah?” he’s growling into your ear, letting you shove his hips taut against the door as you reach for the buttons on his chest. “Yeah. You did.”

“I missed your cock. There’s a difference.”

“Really?” His eyebrow quirks upwards as you snap the buttons lose. “Could have just told me. Could have texted.”

You’ll kill him one of these days.

You shrug, as nonchalant as possible. “Or I could have called Felix. You know, actually, maybe that’s not such a bad—”

Your threat has its desired effect and before you’re afforded the opportunity of seeing the dangerous look in his eye, he’s fisting your hair and spinning you around.

His fingers tangle themselves in your roots before he shoves your cheek against the cold surface, his lips threateningly close to your ear as he hisses, “Do it.”

Confused, your brows pull together as you glance to the side. “What?”

You might not be able to see him, but you can hear the smug smirk accompanied by the sound of rustling behind you.

And next thing you know, he’s dangling your cell phone near your face. “Call him.”

A scoff. “Come on, Har, you can’t be—”

His fingers twist themselves in your hair like a vice and as your head is yanked back against his shoulder, you swear you pull a muscle from clenching so hard.

“Did I fucking stutter?” he asks of you now, and your lashes flutter. “You think Felix can fuck you like I can? Then you fucking call him.”

“Har—”

“Now, sweetheart.” His tone is vicious. Filled with spite. “My patience is running thin.”

Not one to submit to his desire to break you, you decide to call his bluff. You retrieve the phone and type in Felix’s name, hitting call before you lose your nerve.

And with each ring, Harry’s fingers crawl higher up the inside of your thigh.

Shit.

“Hello?” Felix has answered and the sound of his voice echoing from the speakers has Harry chuckling into your shoulder. 

“Hey.” The forced delight in your voice is a clear indication of how you really feel, although you don’t let that deter your performance. “Hi. I was just…I wanted to check in.”

A beat. And as you wait with bated breath for Felix’s reply, you feel Harry step away from your body, and your head cocks to the side.

Of course, his true intentions are revealed to you the moment you see him drop to his knees before he’s grabbing at your thighs to pull them further apart.

Inhaling a gasp, you brace yourself against the door, now exceedingly aware of the real game he was so desperate to play.

“Oh, I’m good, yeah,” Felix is replying, although you can’t possibly be expected to give a fucking shit when Harry is nudging his nose along the tender skin at his disposal. “Yeah, I was just going to call you, actually.”

Say something. “Aw, really? That’s—”

Of course, Harry uses this opportunity to slip his fingers beneath the fabric of your underwear, easily pulling it to the side as you steel yourself.

“You okay?” Felix. Calling your attention back, although you're not sure it’s working.

“I—yes.” Your palm flies to your lips as you swallow another pained sigh. “—I’m just…yes. I’m glad you called, I was…I was hoping we could catch up sometime this week.”

You’re able to just choke out the question when Harry straightens up and extends his tongue. 

It doesn’t take you long to press your cheek harder into the door, your eyes rolling back as he collects each fucking drop of you on his tongue.

“Oh, I’d really like that, yeah,” Felix replies, and you’re so tempted to hang up, but you can’t let Harry win. You can’t. “Yeah, what about—”

He begins to list off a number of activities you both could do in the city, but your focus is on the man beneath you. 

On the feel of his fingertips pulling at your skin as he forces your legs apart.

On the subtle sigh of satisfaction on his lips as he sucks you into his mouth.

On the thrust of his tongue as you swear that you’ll kill him for doing this to you.

Your other hand flies behind you, finding his curls as you tug. Just hard enough to make him groan into your cunt, the vibrations outrageously delicious as they send ripples of pleasure through your nervous system.

“—so, yeah. Any of those.” Felix has finished his list and if you don’t reply soon, he’ll know.

Fucking speak, dammit. “I…wow. So…so many fun—shit—options.” You force out a relaxed laugh that borders dangerously close on a whimper. “Um, any of them are fine with me. Really.”

Another pause. The seconds that pass so silent that you wonder if you’ve been made.

And then—

“I really miss you.” But there’s something different in his voice. No longer chipper but rather…heavy. “Like right now…can’t stop thinking about you.”

Now you understand. And while you’re almost tempted to roll your eyes at his keen desire to have you talk him through fucking his fist, you’re forced to play along.

At least for Harry’s sake.

After all, if he’s playing with you…

“Yeah?” You force the rhythm of your words to flow like silk, soft and sensual. “What are you thinking about?”

Within an instant of your response, Harry’s annoyance is felt through the rough way he pulls you onto his face, your heels nearly slipping against the cold, marble floor as he keeps you steady on his tongue.

“M’thinking about your lips around my cock,” the voice calls from the phone, proceeding a groan, and you’re not at all surprised he’s already stuck his hand down his pants.

Fucking pathetic.

“Yeah?” You grit your teeth together, so helplessly close to clenching around Harry’s tongue that you’re not sure what else to do. “Want my throat, baby—”

“Fuck, yes,” Felix whines through the speaker, and right as your eyes are about to roll so far back in your head that you can see your own brain, Harry lets go.

And stands up.

Oh, you’re so gonna fucking kill him.

However, despite his previous determination to torture you to the brink of death, you’re pleased to find that this time…it’s for your own good.

He snatches the phone from your hand, clutching it so tight between his fingers, you won’t be surprised if it shatters.

“Want your lips and your—” Felix begins again but you aren’t allowed the opportunity to hear the rest because Harry is lifting the delicate object to the wall and smashing it against the tile.

“What the fuck?” Your eyes narrow in on the tiny pieces of plastic as they fall like rain from his hand. “Harry, you can’t just—”

His expression is dark as he dips down to hiss, “Watch me.” And with that, his tongue is forcing its way into your mouth.

He tugs your head back with the grip on your neck, falling so deeply into you that you’re not sure either of you will ever resurface.

And with that, he reaches for the baby doll neckline of your dress and rips.

Your tits spill out of their confinements and the animalistic display of lust that Harry is currently exhibiting is more than enough to leave you choking on a pained whimper.

But you remind yourself to chastise him later, because this is one of your favorite dresses, and he’s not a fucking caveman.

You’re forced back against the door, the cold surface stimulating your chest as you suck in a sharp gasp before he’s moving behind you once more.

He balls the soft material of the dress in his hands before collecting it above your hip.

Your lace underwear is twisted around his fist until it snaps, falling pathetically as he brings it to his own pocket for safekeeping.

Typical.

You hear the metallic clang of his belt as he flicks it undone and the sound alone is enough to force the drip down your thighs.

Enough time has been wasted between when you first excused yourself from the table and now, and this is something Harry seems to agree with you on as his chest meets your back.

“Beg me,” he murmurs, the tip of his cock brushing your cunt as your eyes flutter shut. “Beg me to fuck you the way he can’t. Beg me to let you come.”

Normally, you’d never let yourself entertain such a demeaning request and show for power, yet…tonight is an anomaly. 

Because garlic bread and all-you-can-eat salad is not the aphrodisiac you had anticipated falling victim to tonight.

But you have and you know undoubtedly that you might never find yourself with Harry like this again.

So, why not have one last quick fuck for the road before you go your separate ways?

“Shit,” you finally find the strength to whisper. “Please…please, Har. The only one. Only one who can make me come. Please...fucking missed it. Missed you.”

He curses between his teeth before finally…that feeling.

Your leg is thrust up against the door, knee pressed into the hard surface as he drives himself inside, your jaw going slack when you finally get what you’ve wanted for weeks now.

Him.

It’s familiar, and it’s good, and it’s so fucking full you’re not sure why you ever broke up with him in the first place.

He’s kind enough to offer about two and half seconds to adjust before pulling out and going again. Hard and slow clearly not on the table tonight.

Or…on the door.

You both know each other well enough to immediately create the rhythm that works the best, one hand reaching around your throat as he tugs you back, squeezing until your vision goes fuzzy.

Ecstasy. That’s all you know. Each sharp thrust and tug of his fingers in your hair, or on your hip, or around your throat.

He moves to grasp your jaw, squeezing tight as you swallow, something that merely spurs on the desperation.

“Fucking missed this.” Staccato breaths echo in your ear as he mumbles his admission. “Fucking missed this tight, little cunt. S’always so good to me. Yeah? Know you’re so fucking good to me. Take me so well—”

His fingers move for your lips, tugging at the bottom one until you take him into your mouth and suck. His favorite. 

You moan at the taste, mostly for his benefit, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t live to devour each part of him.

Besides…he tastes like the frosting he was so determined to swipe from the plate.

And now maybe you’re grateful he did.

Once he removes them from your mouth, they fall down your chest, tweaking your nipple—hard—before traveling lower.

They find your clit, thumb pressing tight to your body until you’re gasping against the door, turning until you can rest your forehead against the surface.

“How’s this, baby?” A sadistic chuckle. “Bet you fucking missed this, didn’t you? Missed the way I touch you. Missed the way your body drips for me—”

You’d almost agree with him if you weren’t currently swallowing a loud cry.

“—bet you always do, hm? Drip for me? When you’re fucking yourself thinking of me?” His lips move to your neck, sloppy kisses trailing down your spine. “Bet you play that video, yeah? Love to hear yourself whine for me, don’t you? Love to hear the way you drip down my cock.”

Your cheeks flush. Not at the mention of the video, per se, but at the realization that he’s right.

Because you do. You can’t help yourself. Fucking your own fingers can only take you so far.

But the video…the sounds. The way he looked coated in you. It was so fucking beautiful. Watching him swipe his wrist over his chin before licking it off—

A salacious moan escapes without your consent but it’s really Harry’s fault for making you remember such an erotic night.

“S’tight, yeah? Feels so good…fucking wanna come for me, don’t you?” He’s beckoning you to your end. Demanding your release. And you’re powerless to stop it.

You nod, wordlessly, but of course Harry and his gigantic ego can't be so easily satisfied.

"Ask me," he whispers forcefully. "Fucking ask me to let you come."

“Har—”

“Ask me nicely to let you come,” he repeats, using the hold on your hair to force your cheek harder into the door.

And despite yourself, you oblige to his request. “Let me come, Har…please. Please just…just let…”

“Y’don’t come for anyone but me, yeah?” Another question disguised as a threat. “S’right, yeah? Never fucking come for anyone but me—”

“No,” you promise. “No, just you, Har. Always you—”

“Always me.”

And before you have a chance to scream so loudly, the entire restaurant can hear him obliterating you, he brings his palm to your lips, forcing your silence.

You’re not quite sure it’s ever felt so good, and you’re vaguely aware of him coming, too, but you can’t possibly care about anything else but the feel.

It encompasses you. All of you. You have no concept of time or reality. Just the feel. The feel of him. The feel of the burn already forming in your thighs. The way your hips roll back to extend the sensation as he pulls you down. 

Him. On your neck, your shoulder, your thighs.

“Shit.” He takes a deep breath, and you’d laugh if you had the strength. “So fucking good, darling.”

Those gentle kisses you’ve grown to miss are scattered across your skin. Each one softer and sweeter than the last.

“That’s my girl.” His lips never leave you once. Your stomach flips at the familiar phrase. “Easy, darling, I’ve got you. That’s it. S’all right.”

After he’s sure you’re strong enough to stand, he pulls out, much to your dismay. 

But your disappointment fades when he gently spins you around until your back meets the door.

Then…he holds you. 

Grabs your hips and moves to capture your lips with his. Tender this time.

You’d sigh with contentment if you were allowing yourself to miss him as much as you’re afraid you do.

The kisses move down your cheek. Your neck. Your throat. Your chest. Never harsh, never sly. As if kissing away all your troubles, all your pain, all your regret.

He lowers himself to a crouch, fingers rubbing soft circles into your thighs as he moves to kiss up the sensitive skin.

Collects you both on his tongue, licking a stripe up your leg as you inhale quietly.

All the while, murmuring, “S’okay baby. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

And you don’t doubt that he does.

When he straightens back up, he slots himself between your thighs, finding a home in your embrace.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and you just breathe. Breathe in the familiarity of him. The sweat, the sex, the cologne you used to hate but now you miss.

Fuck, you’ve never missed something so badly in your life.

But you can’t let yourself fall for him again. You can’t. You’re sure he’s already over you and getting over him is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do.

You can’t do it again.

“We should go,” you hear yourself say, thankful the crack in your voice is undetectable. “We should…they’re probably really—”

“Don't go.”

He doesn’t look at you when he says this, his face buried deep in your neck. His grip tightens. Your breath hitches.

A beat as your lashes flutter. “Harry…”

“Don’t go,” he whispers along your jaw. “Don’t…don’t make me go. Can’t do it again.”

A sharp inhale. You have no response.

When he leans back, you see the yearning in his eyes. The genuine longing to keep you in his arms forever.

“I can’t do it again,” he repeats, hand coming up to cup your cheek, catching the tear as it falls. “We can figure all the other shit out later. I'll do whatever you want. But please…please don’t make me watch you walk out this door. Please don't make me lose you again.”

And despite every reminder of why you parted ways in the first place, every outrageous fight, every moment of bitter contempt that led you to the end…you smile.

You smile and weave your fingers through his disheveled hair, tugging him down until you can kiss him.

“I can't lose you, either,” you murmur until you feel him sigh with relief. "It's always you, Har...always come back to you."

He grins. The first genuine grin you've seen from him since the breakup. “Always me?” A desperate request. Hopeful.

And you’ve never meant something more in your entire life.

“Always you.”

Full Masterlist

You pop, when we get intimate

husband!Harry Styles x fem!reader

summary - how your moans made their way into the background of cinema

warnings - smut, poorly written, slight voyeurism? Harry wants to put your moans in a song so yeah, fluff

wordcount - 2,8k

a/n - Oh god, this one physically drained me. I've been writing it since like august, but the smut never came out right, I hope you like this one, my second smut ever and I'm still a bit awkward writing it so patience, please.

If you have any feedback on my writing, please let me know, it would help tremendously,

Hope you enjoy it.

----

“You want to what?” You almost screeched as you looked at Harry with wide eyes.

“You heard me right,” he smirked.

You knew Harry could be unhinged when it came to his music. In his previous work, he wasn’t afraid to use intimate bits and pieces of your relationship, just to complete the storytelling. But this was too much, even for him.

“You are absolutely crazy,” you laughed and shook your head.

He had to be joking. Right?

This wasn’t what you were expecting today. You and Harry were both at home. You were working on a project for work and he was working on songs in his home studio. After being locked away in there for about 5 hours straight he came out into the kitchen and nonchalantly asked the craziest question you’ve ever heard.

“Will you let me put your moans into one of my songs?”

“Look, we don’t have to do it, I understand if you are uncomfortable, but I think it would go in the song perfectly,” he shrugged as he moved closer to the couch, where you were sitting. He crouched in front of you and you opened your legs to make space for him between your legs.

“I don’t know Har,” you mumbled as you leaned closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. It was an awkward position but you didn’t mind, you were glad to finally have him with you after he spent the few previous hours locked away in his studio.

“As I said, baby, if you are uncomfortable, it’s out of the window, you know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he kissed your cheek gently and placed his forehead against your temple.

“Let me think about it hm?” You asked and he nodded happily.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours softly.

----

That was 2 weeks ago, and to be honest, you thought about his question non-stop. You roughly knew what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to put your moans to the forefront of the song. He wanted them in the background, just loud enough to slightly hear over the music, he didn’t think anyone would catch onto them after the first listen, and that calmed your mind slightly.

Harry was spending the night at his studio in the city when you decided to agree to his proposition. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend nights at the studio. He always said that he felt the most inspired when he worked alone and during the night, and you could understand that.

You retyped the text a few times before you hit send. Just a couple of minutes later, a long voice message came from Harry.

“Oh my God, are you for real? Are you 100% sure? I don’t want you to do this just because I wanted it, please tell me you are sure,” even though he sounded concerned, you could hear a tinge of hope and happiness in his voice.

“Yes, I am sure, I know you would never do anything to hurt or embarrass me, I trust you with my life, Harry,” you sent back a voice message and quickly moved to gather your stuff and get to the studio.

It wasn’t far away, only about 15 minutes from your shared apartment. You listened to a podcast you started listening to while you were working earlier that day as you drove towards the studio.

You parked in the parking lot beside the studio and got out. The lights in the entire building were out, only reassuring you that Harry was in the building alone, maybe except for a couple of security guards, who were going to stay on the bottom floor, so it didn’t bother you.

You walked into the building and greeted the security guard who had a shift that night. You handed him your ID for him to check your name on the list of people who have access and wished you a good night.

You took the elevator to the rented studio, which was on the 8th floor. As the elevator slowed down, you called Harry to let you in.

“Hey, I’m here, can you let me in please?”

“Of course, love, I’m going to be right there,”

You only waited for about 2 minutes, before the door opened up and your husband appeared.

“Hey,” he smiled and pulled you towards him. He rested his chin against your shoulder as he gently swayed your bodies from side to side. You reveled in the feeling for a few moments before he slowly pulled away.

“Come on,” he tugged on your hand and pulled you into the studio with him.

He locked the door behind the two of you and led you towards a small couch in the back of the room. He sat down, pulled you right on top of him in one fluid motion, and rested his palms on your hips.

“I missed you,” he mumbled as he peppered small kisses around your face.

“I missed you too,” you smiled and rubbed his back gently.

“Baby, are you absolutely sure?” He asked concerned.

“Do you want me to change my mind? Because it sounds like you do,” you teased as you swiped your fingers around the surface of his cheeks.

“Let me get things ready, drink some of my tea if you want, it should be still hot,” he smiled and handed you the mug full of herbal tea.

You took the mug into your hands and blew on the tea gently. You watched Harry as he toyed with the soundboard and the computer from the couch. After a few minutes, you placed the mug on the table in front of you and stood up.

You moved towards him as quietly as you could, trying to scare him. He squealed lowly as you dug your fingers into his sides. You wrapped your hands around him while he quietly laughed at your antics. You raised to your tippy-toes and placed your chin on his shoulder.

“You little minx,” he smiled and opened up a program on his computer screen.

“Are you done?” You asked and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Almost, be patient,” he mumbled. Your eyes wandered from the screen to the profile of Harry’s face. You allowed yourself to admire him for a while before he spoke up.

“I can see you staring,” Harry said absentmindedly.

“I am getting bored and horny, so hurry up,” you whined jokingly.

“I am done, the mic is on, we can go in,” he turned around and pulled you into him. He kissed you gently, and unhurriedly. Even though the both of you knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes, the kiss didn’t get steamy. It stayed soft and gentle as if to bring each other comfort.

“You can still say no, you can always say no, I won’t get mad,” he reminded you as he placed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes in bliss.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. “You told me like 5 times already,” you joked and he ‘tsked’ and raised your chin to keep you looking at him.

“I want you to be comfortable, and know that you can back out anytime you feel like it is becoming too much,” he stroked your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgment and tugged at his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” you said.

“Eager, are we?” he teased but complied and let you lead him to the booth.

“You were hopeful, weren’t you?” You teased when you saw the inside of the booth. There were blankets and pillows strewn across the floor, with some towels and water bottles to the side. Your heart fluttered. You couldn’t have asked for more. The fact that he went out of his way to do this to try and make you feel more comfortable made your heart squeeze inside your chest.

“Guess you could say I had a hunch,” he winked jokingly and pulled you into the booth. He pulled you to sit down on the floor which was cushioned by the soft pillows.

“It’s so cozy, I love it,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the soft fabric around you.

“Only the best for you, my love,” he smiled.

“C’mere baby, let me kiss you,” Harry pulled you onto his lap and quickly pressed his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Pressed up against each other, lips moving against each other.

“Turn around baby, sit between my legs, it’s going to sound better that way,” he whispered into your ear and you complied. You shifted your weight and turned around, careful not to hurt him. You nested between his legs and pressed your back against his chest. You felt him lean against the wall behind him and get comfortable.

When the both of you got comfortable, you turned your head to the side, so you could face him.

“How are we going to do this?” You asked curiously.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be able to fuck you unless I want all of the moans in the background to be mine, so that’s out of the window,” he grinned and kissed your neck.

“Yeah, you tend to be just a tiny bit loud,” you smiled and raised your hand with a small space between your thumb and pointer finger.

“Get your shirt off, woman,” he jokingly ordered and you raised your hands above your head.

“Get it off yourself,” you smiled. The shirt landed somewhere to your right. You didn’t have time to look because Harry pulled you into a kiss immediately after the shirt stopped touching your skin. He didn’t waste any time and cupped your breasts in his hands. He kneaded the soft flesh roughly, making you moan into his mouth.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against your lips as he ran the tips of his fingers over your stomach and hips. You moaned at his praise softly and raised your hips off of the ground slightly, trying to tell him you wanted him to slide your sweat pants off of your legs.

Harry knew you like the back of his hand, and immediately understood what you wanted from him.

“Raise your hips for me, love, just a bit,” he murmured against the side of your face and you complied, air leaving your lungs at his words, wrapping your arm around the back of his neck to get some stability. He swiped the fabric of both sweat pants and your underwear from underneath your butt, and down your legs.

“Straighten your legs,” he ordered and you did, just for him to hook his knees around your legs and pinning them to the ground, spread out. You let out a shaky breath, tensing up from the sudden cold feeling touching your hot core.

“Relax against me, and let me do the work,” you nodded your head desperately and you laid your head against his shoulder, burrowing your face in his neck.

At first, he didn’t do anything. His slight touches were teasing and almost non-existent, dancing over your heated naked skin.

As his hand traveled down, over your thigh, it nestled itself on your inner thigh, incredibly close to where you needed him, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

He was so, so close when he suddenly started to pull away. In the deep feeling of desperation, you forcefully closed your legs and pried them from underneath his, with a loud whine.

“Please, don’t do this to me,” you whined and Harry tsked disapprovingly.

“Be good for me, or you won’t get anything,” he threatened, and you nodded understandingly. You knew he wouldn’t do that to you, after all, he needed this but you knew the longer you would misbehave the longer it would take for him to properly start.

he pined your legs underneath his again, this time a lot firmer than before and his hand went back to the place it was before.

This time around, he didn’t waste any time and dived straight in. He pulled your hood apart with two fingers, leaving your pulsing clit uncovered in the slightly cold air of the recording booth. He smeared your wetness over his fingers and started rubbing soft circles on your clit, making you lean back into him a little more, feeling a jolt of electricity flash over your spine.

“Is that good lovie?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded vigorously, letting a breathless moan tumble out of your mouth. He didn’t take his time easing you into the feeling, as he started rubbing your clit a bit more roughly.

You didn’t understand how he did it, but you already felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach. The feeling of the cold rings pressing against your heated skin only made the motions of his skilled fingers make you feel so much better.

You could feel his fingers starting to explore, the thumb circled your clit and the rest went downwards until you felt them prodding against your wet hole.

“Please, give me your fingers,” you moaned out and he kissed the side of your head.

“Be patient,” he murmured.

He teased you, only letting the tips of his finger dip into you before he pulled them away, only focusing on your clit.

You couldn’t wait anymore, you gripped his wrist and looked him in the eyes, with a pleading look on your face.

“Please,” you whispered and he rolled his eyes, nodding, as if annoyed. You let go of his wrist, settling back against him.

He dipped his fingers in you again, going deeper this time. You spread your legs slightly more, trying to take as much of his fingers as you can. You moaned loudly when his fingers prodded against the sensitive spot inside you. The motion made you grip the loose fabric of his grey sweat pants you could almost feel him smirk behind you.

“Oh, God,” you whispered out as you fought against the flutter of your lashes, struggling against the urge to close your eyes in absolute bliss.

He quickly moved his fingers in and out of you, thumb on your clit, trying to graze the sensitive spot as much and as best as you could. Soon, you were a moaning and whining mess, too close to your orgasm to let out anything except the gasps of his name.

You were so, so close. The feeling in your belly almost too much to bear.

“Let go for me my love, cum for me,” he whispered against your ear.

You tried to hold off for a while, wanting to enjoy his touch for a bit longer, but you couldn’t it wasn’t possible.

You let go with a loud moan as the hot blinding pleasure hit you, making you see galaxies for a few moments. You desperately tried to close your legs around his hand, but this time, he was ready and didn’t let your legs slip from his. Harry continued to rub your clit even after your orgasm, making you whine and try to get away from him.

You felt sleepy. Your eyes were too heavy to keep them open and your limbs felt too heavy to move on your own. You felt yourself being moved. From between Harry’s legs to laying on a fluffy pillow with a warm blanket draped over you. You felt Harry slip away from you, and you tried calling out for him.

“M’just going to turn the mic off, I will be back in a minute, I promise darling, then I’ll clean you up,” he promised lovingly and you nodded, snuggling into the soft fabric of the pillow underneath your head.

He was right, after about a minute you could feel his presence again as the pillows around you shifted underneath his weight.

“I need to pull the blanket off, prepare,” he warned and you braced yourself for the chilly feeling.

You were grateful he cleaned up very quickly. He quickly wiped you up, and slipped your underwear on, mumbling encouraging words when you flinched away from being too sensitive.

“Sit up for me,” he gently ordered and pulled you up to rest against him. He opened the water bottle only an arm's length away from him and placed it against your lips, urging you to drink just a little. You took a few sips, but soon grew tired of it, and tried to lay down again. This time, he laid down with you. He threw a blanket over your bodies, snuggling your almost bare form to his, gently brushing his hand over your hair in soothing motions.

“Did so good for me, my best girl,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses around the back of your neck.

“At least credit me for the song,” you joked weakly, making Harry’s laugh the last thing you heard before you slipped into a well-deserved slumber.

----

This is it folks, hope you liked it, please reblog and like to let me know, it makes me very happy to see.

Anyway, thank you for reading <3

can you do a little blurb about clingy harry :))) maybe one where he's sick and just wants you??

just one smooch

harry styles x actress!reader

summary: Harry is feeling sick and there is only one person who can make him feel better. masterlist

warnings: sickness, one kinda sex joke

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is technically part of the SOH universe but it can be read as a stand alone

January, 2015

Standing in the freezing rain for that god-damn music video scene that didn't even make it into the final video really made Harry's cold feel so much worse.

Last time Harry was sick was when he got food poisoning for eating one too many airplane meals—and that was 3 years ago. Harry's had years of traveling under his belt and now knows how to get good food to avoid the upset stomach, but he has no idea why he feels so groggy.

It didn't help that Harry woke up alone, which always put a damper on his mood. He found that his king size bed feels almost too big when he rolled over again, and again, to try to feel her presence.

This morning, and late into yesterday, Y/n had a call back for another un-named project—she would never tell him what movie or role she would audition for, and then inevitably get of course. She liked seeing the surprise on his face when it was publicly announced.

But now this all means that Harry will be alone for the next hour.

He sighed and rolled over to his side. He reached over to his bedside table to get his phone, but got his phone and a little stickie note attached.

Miss you, love! I'll be back soon enough and then we can spend the whole day together! I'll pick up some take-out from that place you like too!

Keep the bed warm xo

Harry smiled and thought about how he should really get up to fix himself up for Y/n; the sight she saw when she got up must not of been that pretty, Harry thought, he better make himself presentable before she came back.

He rose up and immediately collapsed back down to the comfort of his pillows. His head did not feel like that two seconds ago, and when did he get all cold all of a sudden?

He groaned and withered away in the bed for much longer then what he should of. But he did make the genius idea to keep his sickness on the down low.

He sneezed as he got on his clothes and brushed his teeth. He soon moved onto doing his hair, then finding some of the stage makeup he uses for interviews to give a hint of color back to his face so he wouldn't look too deathly ill.

Soon enough, he heard the front door to his apartment and a cheery sound ring out. Harry got one last sneeze out before he came out of the bathroom and put on a happy smile.

"Hey! How'd it go?" Harry asked, taking her bag and the take out from her hands and putting it on the counter.

She smiled, sly, and a little shy too. "I think it went really well-"

Harry couldn't cover the sneeze. It was loud, obnoxious, and too middle-aged-man for Harry's taste. It made him feel worse then before, it almost felt this sickness was aging him a little too quickly.

“You were saying, love.” He smiled, asking her to continue. He tried to stand as nonchalantly as he possibly could, but it didn’t matter.

Y/n didn’t look all that impressed. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That earthquake of a sneeze.” She put the back of her hand on his forehead, getting a feel of how hot it was.

“Stop worrying, just a sneeze.”

“You’ve got to of have a fever if you think that was just a sneeze.” She removed her hand. “And I think you do, babe.”

She moved around him and went to the bathroom, Harry following right behind, to get the thermometer. Harry liked how Y/n new where to go in his flat, made it feel almost more home-like.

Harry sat on the counter, liking the way Y/n scoffed and mumbled big baby under her breath. Sometimes the couple would take turns sitting on the counter, doing each other’s skin care and leaving little kisses all over. But in this case it was to get his temperature.

Harry had a dopey smile on his face, although she knew all too well that he must be feeling really under the weather. But she appreciated how calm he was when he was sick, it made Y/n feel better about taking care of him since it wasn't too much work.

She put the gadget on Harry’s forehead, and then read the temperature. “37.3.” She sighed. “Not a fever fever, but a little worrying.”

“What does that mean, doctor?”

“It means that you are on bed rest.” Harry groaned which resulted in a smile from Y/n. “Come on.”

“But the take out—“

“But you need fluids, not a brown rice bowl with enough beans to make you gassy.”

“I do not get gassy.” Harry sternly said as he collapsed back onto the bed. Y/n’s footsteps wandered off then quickly came back with some water.

“Drink, big baby.”

“M’ your big baby.”

“That’s right.” Y/n mumbled, hand through his hair and a kiss on the forehead. “Lemme get you a damp cloth.”

“Mm k.” Harry sleepily said. His head on the pillow and the softness of his loves voice, soothing him to sleep.

“Hey don’t fall asleep on me just yet.” She placed the cold damp cloth on his head., holding his hand with her free one. “You need some food in you.”

“Bed ‘s comfy though.” He rebutted. “Get in ‘ere with me. I can show you a good time.”

“I don’t want your mouth anywhere on me.” She deadpanned.

Harry gasped, acting as if he was now physically hurt. “Never say those words again.”

“Mhm.”

“I have never felt more betrayed.”

“Mhm.”

“When I’m feeling better you’re going to feel so good.”

“Mhm.” She let go of his hand—pout ensured—and got up. “I’m going to make soup alright? No falling asleep.”

“Okay.” Harry reluctantly agreed, hating to watch her leave. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She left Harry to his own devices as she entered his kitchen. It was neat and tidy, just like Harry always kept it. Out of the duo, Harry was defiantly the cleaner, which always worked well in comparison to Y/n stress baking.

Y/n got to work right away, making a soup with a recipe Anne had given to her as a cure all medicine, which, she thought, would do the trick. Harry had all of the ingredients in the fridge, so it took a quick few minutes of chopping, brewing, and seasoning to get it just right.

She dished some up in a bowl, and another for her, then carefully walked back to the room. “Eat up.”

“Thanks.” Harry sat up right away, taking the bowl and spoon and practically inhaling the soup. “Fuck that’s so good.” Harry practically moaned.

“Oh I thought you hated it.” She mumbled, chucking under her breath.

“‘Ey! What’s so funny?” Harry asked, a little dribble of soup trailing down his face.

“Nothing. Just love you.”

“Awe babe, you’re making me blush.” Harry smiled. “Give me a kiss.” Harry pouted his lips and leaned in, causing her to arch her back to get away.

“No. I don’t want any of your germs.” She shooed him back, the pout coming back.

“Please, I’ll feel a hundred times better.” Harry begged. “Just one little smooch.”

Y/n seemed to consider this. She did really want a kiss from him, the last one she got was last night and that was too long ago.

“Fine, but you better not get me sick—“

His lips were on her’s. His lips were dry and his face was burning, but it was a much needed kiss.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” Harry sighed, resting his forehead on hers. “You know I would do the same for you, right.”

“Of course babe.” Y/n kissed him on the nose then patted his cheek. “You need some rest.”

Harry nodded, sleep hitting him quick. She took his bowl and placed it on the side table; Harry knew he’d have a nice dream. One where they're together, under one roof, under one house, one home.

Tag list: send ask to be added/removed. strikethrough can’t be tagged for some reason.

@uhuhuh @sucker4angstt @b-reads-things @augustfaultline @bxtchboy69 @japanchrry @lilbredsticc @daydreamingofmatilda @springholland @fullofsourgrapes @cacapeepee @yourgoldengirls

my I request some kind of fluff where you paint harrys nail with pleasing and matching the colors with urs where he paint yours

-𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 || 𝐇.𝐒

Pairing: bf!harry x reader

Content warnings: fluff, talk about children/futures

Word count: 723

A/n: of course love <3 this is kinda playful Harry, I love him and I hope you do tooooo! (Sorry for the wait) masterlist

Harry was overloaded with meetings. I knew by the time he got home he’d probably only want to cuddle, or a bath. One or the other.

The front door opened and his bright eyes found me right away, sprawled on our couch watching a random episode of a reality show.

“Love, let me color your nails.” His voice echoed over the tv.

“What?” My eyes followed him.

“We’ve got these new samples I wanna try out, come on.” He takes a seat next to me and takes out a bag full of Pleasing nail polishes from his tote.

I smile at how excited he’s getting, scattering shades of green, blues and pinks he had.

“Pick one.” He pushes the samples towards me.

“I don’t get a kiss hello?” I laugh.

His eyes widen before he’s smothering me with kisses. Forehead. Cheeks. Lips. Neck. Forehead. Nose. Cheeks. Neck. Nose. Lips.

“Ok, ok.” I laugh, averting his lips to mine once more then pulling away.

“Choose.” He laid them out in his hands. I chose blue and pink and he grinned.

“Fine line.” I voiced.

“I figured.”

He got to coloring my nails while I went back to the show I was watching. It went on and on, but nothing seemed to make sense. Not when Harry was next to me to talk to.

I paused the show and carefully untucked my feet from behind me. He pulled back, cautiously watching my nails as my legs spread onto his lap.

Once I stilled, he continued.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Fun. We talked about marketing and all that boring stuff, but at the end, they showed us some polish samples of the colors I chose out last week. They told me I had to choose out of the twenty they made.”

I looked back at the table where the polishes rested, only three of them.

“Brought the ones I thought you’d look really pretty in.” He said.

I looked back up at him, eyes going over every curve that showed how concentrated he was. The crease between his brows, the dimple he smiled when he was satisfied, and the ones on his forehead from age.

“Finished.”

“That fast?”

“Mhm.”

He blew on them before tilting them towards me. It was obvious he was more experienced than me. Since I was young was I coloring my nails with cheap nail polish that didn’t quite cover my nail, but covered nearly half my finger instead. Harry’s job was neater, not a single smudge was evident.

“My turn.” He turned aggressively. My legs fell from his lap, and as soon as the same polishes were in my hands, he stretched his legs on me like I did to him. “We can match.”

He smiled widely as I started with his thumb.

“You’re like a child.” I laughed.

“What? How?” He whined, a start of a laugh edging his words.

“You’re so excited about nail polish and showing me your new projects.”

“It only means I’d get along great with my own.”

“Yeah.” I smiled just imagining little Harry’s and me’s running around.

“Baby,”

“Harry,” His toe stabbed my side in response, making me flinch. I gave him a warning look and he quickly mouthed a ‘sorry’ before I returned back to his, slightly smudged, pink nail.

“Hypothetically, if we did have a family, how many would you want?”

I didn’t want to answer quite yet, too scared to give an answer that he wouldn’t like. “How many would you want?” I bounced the question back.

He shook his head with a smirk but answered anyways. “Seven. I’d want to live in the suburbs while our kids— Molly, Timber, Amber, George, Clementine, Kennedy, and lily— scurry down a block or two with us to school.”

Fear flushed me when the word ‘Seven’ bounced out of his mouth. He had to be bluffing. But I refused to look anywhere but his nails and the brush atop it.

He burst into laughter and lifted my chin up to see him with one of his blank fingers. “I’m only kidding, love.”

I pushed his shoulder lightly and waited until he settled down from his fit. Tears threatened to drop from the edge of his eyes.

“We’d only have six.” He said.

“Hypothetically.”

“Yes, obviously.” Snark lingered in his words.

Daddy!Harry blurb

So this is my first time writing smut and blurb. I had a dream of this happening and needed to write it down

WARNING: INCLUDES SMUT!!! And cockwarming and soft dom!H and daddy!Harry!!!!

Daddy!H smut

Harry met Y/N at a cafe near his office. He was running late for a meeting but being the CEO of his own company had it's perks: he could show up anytime he wanted. However, he did have a $50M deal on the line so he had to rush a bit. As his name was called for his drink order, he was too in a hurry to get the drink that by the time he looked back to head to the door, he turned too quickly and spilled his hot drink on a girl waiting for her drink behind him. Y/N was in shock as the hot coffee poured over her chest staining her white polo that she had specifically worn for a job interview that day.

Y/N felt like breaking down, thinking she'll never get that job knowing she's going to show up with a stained blouse. Tears started to well in her eyes. Immediately Harry felt guilty and started to get tissues so as to help clean her chest, together with a strew of apologies, he tried to calm down the hysterical mess that was Y/N and offered to buy her a new blouse. Already being late for her job interview, and to avoid a scene by breaking down, Y/N rushed out of the cafe with tears in her eyes, leaving Harry in the middle of the cafe.

--------

Harry arrived 30 minutes later to his office. He had to buy a new cup of coffee and got rid of his suit jacket as it was stained as well, leaving him without a jacket and dress sleeves rolled up his arms with a tie loose on his neck. He had finished the deal early and was just basically chilling in his office when the head of human resources came in to tell him that there was an interviewee waiting for him.

He was currently looking for a new assistant after his last assistant spilled coffee all over his documents and he had no choice but to fire her. Harry nodded at the HR person and sat down on his desk. However, he didnt expect that his "possibly" new assistant was the same one who he spilled hot coffee on earlier that day. Y/N herself couldnt believe what she had gotten into. But she needed to trust her instincts.

Harry, still feeling guilty, was about to start on a full-on monologue of an apology but he stopped himself and finally got a good look at her realizing how beautiful she was. He hadn't noticed that as he was in a hurry to clean up his mess a while ago. He never got a good look at her face. How her doe eyes seemed to shine perfectly at the sight of him. He didnt notice her brown hair properly fixed and her plump lips that Harry thinks he could just kiss all day. He greeted her and before he started with the interview, apologized once more for the incident. He couldn't stop the smirk growing on his face when Y/N blushed and looked down, saying it wasn't a big deal, clearly embarassed by the situation. She could feel him stare at her and she felt so flustered but Harry thought she looked too pure and submissive thinking of how he made her flustered by just saying a few words and just by simply looking at her.

Harry didnt have any other problem with her either, to be honest, Harry was impressed actually. She had a well-prepared resume and didnt have any problem with it and so Harry hired her. So when Harry stood up to give her a proper handshake, Y/N was too happy, she went in for a hug as a thank you.

Harry stood there not knowing what to do, he usually doesnt hug people but after the events that happened that day, maybe he could learn how to tolerate Y/N. See he had the reputation of being cold and strict to his workers that whoever would cross him expected to never see the light of day. However, this was Y/N.

The same Y/N who cried over ruining her interview because of a stained shirt. The same Y/N who got flustered over Harry's stare and words. The same Y/N who jumped up happily to give him a hug after he hired her. Plus how could you decline a hug from a person with the brightest smile and bubbly spirit?

-------------

Their relationship started off professional but as Y/N's presence continued to grow onto Harry, he found it hard to ignore her and found her more beautiful the more she worked for him. Like how Harry thought of how cute she was when she was clumsy at times especially when she would enter his office. He couldnt keep his eyes off her when she was in his presence because of how beautiful she was and she became self-concsious over that, becoming flustered and sometimes tripping over her words or clumsily taking paper off his hands especially when he would purposely brush his hands with hers. She couldnt stop the blush creeping up from her neck to her cheek, and harry would just smirk over her submissiveness and clumsiness knowing that he had that kind of effect over Y/N.

However, he hated how he couldn't control himself when he was with Y/N it felt like all of his energy came from Y/N and his mood would lighten up when she entered his office. He felt like she was the sun and he couldnt work properly without her. This became a problem at times because he couldnt seem to get work done without her or he couldn't bring himself to reprimand her when she would accidentally mix up papers that resulted in delaying meetings and paperworks. He tried to reprimand her, knowing that he even fired his last assistant because she spilled coffee over his paper but for Y/N, he couldn't just let her go. Even when she was in front of him, with tears welling in her eyes apologizing for mixing up the paper for hundreds of times, he couldnt bring himself to get mad at her. I mean how could he? When she's looking up at him with doe-filled puppy eyes welling with tears and a pout growing by the minute. He couldnt stop himself from taking her into a hug and simply saying, "It's okay. I forgive you. Just dont do it again."

She eventually caught on about his overgrowing fondness to her when she found out that he fired his last assistant for spilling coffee over his paperwork and he had the choice to fire her as well because she messed up his paperwork but he just let it go. She knew something was up but for the most part she was just grateful he hadnt fired her yet. Plus, how could she ignore the sparks that travel through her body when he brushes his fingers across her hands? Or the overwhelming feeling of being captured by his stare when she enters his office. All of these feelings towards her was confirmed when she accidentally walked in on him jerking off while he was panting her name. He didnt stop when he saw her curiously standing by the door. He nodded at her to enter his office, and Y/N submissively entered and shut the door. She slowly started to walk to his desk and when she was in front of him, she couldnt stop her jaw from dropping. He was really big and Y/N was really inexperienced.

That day, she learned how to give her first blowjob and Harry came minutes after she decided to suck him, with the help of Harry of course. After that, they started to do the whole "dating" thing where Harry found out that Y/N was new to all the dating stuff and she never really had a boyfriend before. He knew he had to lead them into the relationship since she didn't know alot about that area but he was more than willing to do it. He ultimately found out that she was a "little" when she asked him if she could call him daddy while he was taking away her virginity. When she said that, Harry felt like he could burst. He fell more in love with her and he could literally feel himself almost cumming by the thought of it.

After that, they fell into a typical dd/lg relationship where Harry took care of her in all aspects. He had to eventually fire her so as to not spread any rumours of unfair treatment to the rest of the workers because Y/N was his girlfriend. However, he made sure to provide for Y/N and making sure she never has to work again. Y/N eventually moved in with Harry in his huge mansion because it was more practical to work on their relationship when they were in each other's company constantly especially since Y/N 's very clingy and needs a specific type of attention. However, Y/N still wanted to work, she didn't like being stuck in the house and doing nothing and she felt like people were judging her thinking she was just using Harry for the money so she tried to find a way to repay him for everything he has done for both of them but daddy Harry always has the final say. He eventually negotiated with her, not being able to say no to her puppy eyes and pouty lips, saying that she could still work by helping him with paperworks and such but she has to stay at home for that. With that, a deal was signed between them and it was sealed with a kiss.

They immediately fell into a routine. They would wake up, with harry eating her out or Y/N tending to his morning wood, whoever woke up first. Eat breakfast, and then Harry got ready for work, saying his goodbyes, then sealing it with a kiss before he left. Y/N would stay, do some chores, edit some of the paperworks he had left in the office, and wait for her daddy to come home, then they both would eat dinner together, cuddle, have sex or watch a movie, and fall asleep.

It was like that everyday and Y/N was elated with how their relationship worked. Some would say they moved too fast but Harry was just really happy that he finally had someone to spend his life with.

-----------

Ever since Y/N and Harry got together, he fixed his schedule so he wouldnt have to go into the office everyday, there were days where he could stay at home and work in his home office so he could take care of Y/N.

This all started when Y/N opened up about how clingy and dependent she is as a little and needed Harry to be there for her. Like how she always needed a bottle of milk when she woke up. Or she would need morning cuddles after waking up. Or when she had to sleep or be put down for her afternoon nap, she had to make sure that Harry's cock was inside of her or else she could not sleep properly.

This started when harry introduced cockwarming and she fell absolutely in love with the concept and now she cant get enought of it. Harry loved how dependent Y/N was on him because finally, he could take care of someone and how could he decline Y/N's warm pussy on his cock, stretching her out and making her comfortable as she slept. He loved how she was totally dependent on him that she couldnt sleep without him inside her. It completely warms his heart that Y/N loved and needed him so much, he finally has someone who needs him as much as he needs her. So when Harry was stuck in his home office one Saturday afternoon, completing paper works, and a tired, sleepy Y/N peeked in her daddy's office after knocking, he knew what she would be asking next.

Harry took his attention away from the paper in front of him, looked up and nodded his head over so as to signal her to come to him. She shut the door and timidly walked to his lap. She kept whining when she got to him and settled once more when she straddled his lap.

"Are you tired bunny? Wanna take a nap?"

Harry asked. Y/N whimpered and pouted. Showing him her puppy eyes and softly rubbing them. She nooded her head cutely and put her head on his chest. Y/N rarely takes afternoon naps and only does so when she knows Harry's home or when she feels extra clingy or feeling more little and in her headspace. And Harry feels guilty because it's a Saturday and usually Saturday's are meant to be little space days where afternoons are used to developing their dynamic as daddy and little by coloring, drawing, watching cartoons, etc. So when Y/N found out that Harry was in his home office for the day, she felt more clingy as possible, she didn't want to disturb him; Tried to be a big girl, trying not to disturb her daddy or else she could be punished but Y/N took the risk because She really needed her daddy.

However, Harry has a meeting with another business on Monday and he had to prepare for it, making sure he has read all their propositions so he knows he isnt being scammed. But of course, his little one always comes first, whatever happens. He made that promise to her when they first started dating. Even sometimes joked about how he would give up his company for her and Y/N would usually laugh it off thinking it was a joke but deep down she knew he was serious.

"Yeh puppy? 'M sorry daddy's stuck in the office all day, promise to give you extra cuddles later, maybe watch some movies later yeh? Wanna take a nap now?" Y/N timidly nodded, with her pout still fixed on her face.

She looked down and started to get rid of his bottoms, letting his cock free up. She whined softly and slid down on his cock, not having panties on since she was just in the house the whole day. Y/N sighed contently feeling full and leaning her head back to his chest.

"Y'alright now lovie? Gonna take a nap now? Hmm? Gotta stay still tho bunny, gotta finish these first and then I'll put us on the bed so you can rest properly okay?" Y/N nodded with her eyes closed, sleep almost taking over her eyes as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

But before sleep takes over her, she looks at him. "Kissy?" Y/N softly asks. Harry, before turning back to his paper work, smiles softly at his little bunny and adoringly looks at her face. "Of course lovie, anything for my darling girl." He softly says as he attaches his lips to hers, softly kissing her lips and he chuckles when he hears soft snores realizing that she fell asleep as they were kissing. He gives one last kiss on her head and gets back to his work.

-----------------

Y/N doesnt bother him for awhile, having done this alot of times already, Harry's found a bit of self-control when it came to Y/N. He knew she needed this and whatever his girl wants, she gets. He knows that whatever they were doing wasnt malicious because his girl just really needed some rest and this is the only way to do that. Plus, it was comforting to know that she needed him for the simplest things, it warms his heart knowing that she needs him for simple events like these. And he couldn't complain, he already feels guilty for working on a Saturday, his girl deserves it. However, as Harry is finishing his 2nd to the last paperwork, Y/N starts squirming around, eyebrows furrowed and frown prominent on her face looking like she's having a nightmare. Harry lets her be but he can feel her breath hitting his neck, and she's squirming around. Harry looks up from the paper, trying to soothe Y/N but she gets even more frisky. He puts his left thumb on her mouth making her suck on it, knowing that it soothes her and it helps a little.

However, that doesnt last long as She starts bouncing up and down his cock mumbling words like "no daddy, don't leave me daddy" and "daddy, come back" or "I be a good girl please" she starts squirming more and more and properly bouncing up and down his cock. Harry tries to wake her up or rubbing her back to soothe her but she just keeps going faster and faster and Harry's already too hard from being inside her for so long. He tried not to give in but He can feel her walls tighten around him and he cant find the will to stop her.

She's already proper bouncing on his cock and he's trying so hard from not thrustinf into her but he ultimately does. He's gotten so hard inside of her and her warm wet walls dont help him at all. He tried to hold it off, trying to focus on waking her up, whispering softly in her ear so as to not scare her. As he tries to wake her up again, he gets closer to his release and he can't think straight, feeling her warm walls pulsing over him and when she finally says "daddy please" in her sleep, Harry loses it cursing softly as his little girl bounces on him and he cums inside of her.

He sees his cum dripping out of her and its by then that she starts to come down from her nightmare. He presses himself to her ear, slowly coaxing her out of her sleep "Love, lovie, wake up, you're having a bad dream" she slowly opens her eyes, her hands slowly rubbing them.

She mumbles incoherent words, harry only really understanding and hearing "why you wake me up daddy?" Harry takes her hands off her eyes and hold her face.

"You were having a nightmare love, you were squirming alot, proper bouncing on top of me and you made daddy cum look" Y/N looks down and sees harry's cum slipping out of her.

She pouts and looks like she's about to cry, scared she'll get punished. "I'm sorry daddy. I just wanted to sleep."

As her pout grows, harry groans, his cock gettng once more hard inside of her. "It's okay puppy. 's no big deal. Daddy's fault that he took so long with his work yeah? Let's just go and cuddle then yeah? Take a bath with ya and I'll put some bubbles. Ya deserve it lovie okay? No tears bubba. Daddy loves you okay?" Harry softly says to her thumbing away the tears that are about to fall.

Y/N timidly replies "Wubs ou too daddy"

After a bath with lots of bubbles as promised and giggles shared between the two eding with cuddles while watching Rom-Coms, Harry's glad his little love is happy and that the fullness in his heart wouldnt all be possible if he hadnt spilled coffee on her

-------

Tell me what you think about it please! Ty!

I Hate You, Too

Authors Note:

NSFW

I got an enemies to lovers request from a reader just over two weeks ago, and shocker, it’s took me this long to write it. The brief was pretty open, just an enemies to lovers trope that featured smut, so that’s my take it on this. This is the first smut I’ve written for Harry and my first smut in a long, long time.

As always, reblogs, likes, feedback is appreciated and encouraged !!

Lots of love, G xo

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: Smut, please only read if you are 18+

Contains: A friends birthday night out, confrontation with Harry, heavy petting in the back of the taxi, smut when you get back home

Word Count: 12.1k

MASTERLIST

***

“Nah, I don’t think I can make it,” Y/N said her hands wrapping round her steaming coffee cup.

“I haven’t even told you when it is, babe” Sarah replied with an unamused look on her face and a quirk in her eyebrow.

“Look I love you, but a night out, just isn’t really my thing just now,” Y/N took a mouthful of her latte and sat back in the warm leather chair of the coffee shop they were meeting up in.

“Well, that’s a lie, you love a night out more than anyone else I know,” Sarah chuckled at her friends lie. She was right as well, Y/N loved a night out. “Look, it’s my birthday, it’s just dinner and drinks. Plus, I don’t get to see you that often anymore either,” Sarah said a small pout playing at her lips, she knew if she played her cards right and pouted and put the puppy dog eyes on at the right moment, Y/N would be a goner and agree to come.

“You’re seeing me now,” Y/N said pointedly.

“Y/N…” Sarah sighed.

“No, I know, I’m sorry. Do you not have any other free night we could do something, just us?” Y/N asked.

“This is my only properly free night; I just want my best friend there.” Then she done it, Sarah deployed the puppy dog eyes and laid the pout on thick.

“Ugh, get that look wiped off your face, Sarah,” Y/N groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as to not see her best friend’s sad look. “Y’know I fall for it every time,” she said grumbling.

“Is it working now?” asked Sarah, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Come on, you know you’ll have a good time, loads of people are going, friends I know for a fact, you’ve not seen in ages, just come.”

“Fuck’s sake, Sarah, fine. I’ll be there,” she huffed out. “Just text me the details or something. Who is all coming anyway?” Y/N mused.

“Oh, I’ve asked a lot, we got someone to watch the baby, so Mitch will be there, Charlotte’s coming, we’ve not seen her for ages.” Sarah grinned excitedly, clearly looking forward to her celebration more now that Y/N had agreed to come.

“Is he coming?” Y/N probed; a tone of distaste evident in her voice.

“Who?” the brunette woman asked nonchalantly. She knew exactly who.

“The prize knobhead himself, will Mr Styles, be gracing us with his presence?” Y/N muttered.

“He’s not a knob-” Sarah started.

“Well, he seems like it, the way he treats and acts around me,” she shot back.

Sarah rolled her eyes at her Y/N’s obvious contempt at her other friend. “Anyway, I’m not sure, he’s invited, and I asked him but…”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he’s far too busy and important,” Y/N said sarcastically picking her mug back up to take a sip, not before muttering a quick “dickhead” into the steaming liquid.

“That’s not fair Y/N/N, you know he works a lot, he can’t help it,” Sarah sighed.

“Look, all I’m saying, if he was that bothered about going, he’d be able to make sure he was. I’m sure he’s got some say in his schedule,” Y/N said, really struggling to keep her aversion to the man at bay now.

Sarah gulped down the remainder of her own coffee before starting, “what even is the situation between you two, anyway?”

“I don’t even know, I was nothing but nice when we first met, but he comes across as a prick and treats me like shit, I’m hardly the type of woman who’s going to roll over and take it am I?” Y/N said with a quirk in her brow

“Hmm,” Sarah considered, seemingly deep in thought as Y/N finished her drink. “He probably won’t even make it, so it’ll be fine, we’ll have fun, promise me you’ll be there?” Sarah said collecting her bag and sliding her arms through her jacket sleeves as they mutually agreed they were done with their catch-up through some unspoken telepathy.

“Twist my arm why don’t you, Jones,” Y/N laughed, gathering her own bag, “I’ll be there, of course I will, just text me the details,” she said before wrapping her arms around Sarah in a parting hug before stepping out in the warm air of August in London.

Y/N was running late as the spindly heels she was wearing clip clopped up the front step of the townhouse that ‘sketch’ London was housed in. She greeted the doorman with her signature radiant smile, indicating she was with the Jones party already seated in ‘The Gallery’. Y/N was actually, very excited for the evening, she loved a night out, she loved sketch and The Gallery had recently been redesigned by an artist she really admired and was so looking forward to seeing it. The doorman led her through to the formerly pink room, which was now a mixture of sunshine and honeyed yellows and golds. Letting her eyes dart around the room, she found Sarah sat in one of the massive booths with a pink foil birthday hat sat jauntily atop her head.

“Y/N/N” she squealed when she saw her best friend flit through the throngs of people around the dining room, there were a couple of other tables near the booth that also houses Sarah’s guests.

“Happy Birthday Miss Jones,” Y/N sang as she shuffled into the booth next to her, wrapping her in a quick hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Sorry I’m late, meeting ran late, had to get ready, traffic, the usual,” she rhymed off while peeling off the leather jacket she had donned.

“Don’t be daft, haven’t even ordered yet, thanks for coming though,” Sarah said sincerely with a smile to her best friend.

“I said I’d be here,” Y/N playfully nudged Sarah by her shoulder as her eyes cast around the table, catching eyes with Charlotte at the bottom of the table and sending her and her boyfriend a wave with the twinkling of her fingers.

“Ordered you a drink though with the last round though, should be on its way in a sec,” said Sarah as she adjusted her party hat that was slipping farther and farther back her head, snapping the elastic back into place under her chin.

“You’re a star, Sarah,” Y/N responded while reaching across her best friend to greet Mitch in a quick hug and greeting.

“Y’should know though…” Sarah began, a slight note of apprehension evident in her voice.

“Ah finally decided to show up then, princess,” a mocking voice said from behind Y/N making her snap her head round and up to be met with the smuggest face she’d ever seen.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Y/N groaned glancing back over at Sarah who gave her a quick apologetic look before diving into a conversation with Mitch and one of their friends, deciding she was better staying out of it.

“Happy to see me, Y/N/N?” Harry smirked down at her, placing down the black tray of drinks he had been toting back with him on the table, people in the immediate vicinity grabbing their respective drinks off the tray, leaving two margaritas on the tray.

“Don’t call me that,” she gritted out.

“Ah, sorry, I’ll stick to princess then.” he took his time to glance down at her taking in her all-black outfit, “did you not get the memo this was a birthday party and not a funeral Y/N?” he mused.

“Oh, get fucked, why are you bothered what I’m wearing, hm?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not, just feel you’re bringing the mood down, but you would do that anyway in any outfit, wouldn’t you?” he said, scrutinising her. “Move anyway, you’re in my seat,” Harry grumbled.

“Has it got your name on it?” Y/N asked as she looked around her seat, looking for a name tag, mocking him.

“I was sat there before y’came in,” Harry edged closer to her.

“And you weren’t sat in it when I did come in, so go cry about it to someone else, I’m sitting here,” Y/N shot back.

“Hey,” Mitch voiced up from further along the booth, “the pair of you drop it and Harry, sit down,” he was definitely using his ‘Dad’ voice on the pair. Harry had no choice to sit down in the vacant seat next to Y/N on the edge of the booth, as the group’s server arrived and began taking their orders for dinner.

“Twat,” Y/N uttered under her breath.

“Bitch,” Harry whispered to himself.

***

Dinner passed, relatively drama free. Relatively. Besides the few times that Harry’s elbow managed to catch Y/N’s just as she was about to take a bite of her food, knocking her hand away from her mouth, and the once or twice Y/N accidentally flicked Harry in the face with the ends of her hair as she whipped her head round to talk to someone. Maybe the few times Harry kept moving Y/N’s drink further away from her immediate grasp on the table when she wasn’t looking so she would look up puzzled, eyes searching for her glass and Harry could let out a slow drawl of “lost somethin’?” There was zero issue when her sharp heel impaled his foot through the black Vans he donned as she readjusted her seating position, his face forming into a grimace as he let out an irritated huff after the third time she had done so. No, it was drama free, for the most part. Y/N was actually having a good night, catching up with friends and making new ones of Sarah’s that she was meeting for the first time. Once she had managed to tune out his voice that seemed to have a point to make in every conversation she was having.

The copious number of cocktails getting delivered to the table had really loosened Y/N up over the evening, and her annoyance at Harry’s presence was barely thought about now as the meal had finished. They had both slipped into separate conversations and were no longer paying attention to each other or trying to rile each other up. Y/N wasn’t sure who was even ordering her drink of choice any longer, it just kept showing up just as she emptied the previous glass. While deep in conversation across the table with Charlotte, discussing new projects they were both working on, Y/N went to take a swig out her glass to realise it was empty for the first time all night, pouting at the empty glass and licking the remnants of the salt rim from her lips she decided it was time she got her own refill. Gesturing to Charlotte that she would return in a few minutes to continue their conversation. She dug around next to her on the velvet clad bench she was sat on for her handbag, coming across the chain strap. Sliding it onto her shoulder she turned round to the birthday girl, “D’you want another drink, gorgeous?” leaning into her ear so she would hear you over the chatter and music.

“Oh, I’ll have one of whatever you’re having, since you’re offering,” Sarah grinned at Y/N then giving her a sloppily placed kiss to the cheek.

“Okay drunky, I’ll be back in a few,” Y/N giggled, standing up where she sat, wriggling her trousers back up her waist before turning to exit the booth. Only to see, that stupid, smug smile looking up at her.

“Not going to offer to get me a drink, darling?” Harry asked, his eyes roaming up her body before settling on her face, he took a sip from his glass, finishing his own drink, baring his teeth in a hiss as he felt the burn of alcohol slide down his throat.

“Fat chance of that, move, I need out,” Y/N said watching as Harry’s arm stretched round the back of the booth, resting on the back where she was just sat.

“Aw come on, that’s not very nice,” he complained, a fake pout settling on his face.

“I never claimed to be nice, now move,” she glared down at him.

“Say please,” he smirked.

“How does fuck off sound instead?” Y/N was getting more irritated by the second, and Harry knew exactly how to push her buttons.

“No drink, no exit,” he shrugged his shoulders letting out a breathy laugh as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine,” she glanced down to see his hand still resting against the seat back where she stood. She dropped her bag back down onto the bench of the booth as Harry smirked, thinking he had won. She smiled softly before clutching his hand in hers, before swinging her leg over his lap, her left foot landing on the floor on the opposite side of him. She was straddling him, and Y/N could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as his eyes widened in shock and the smirk dropped from his lips at her risqué behaviour. She lingered for not even a second before popping her other leg over his lap, so she had exited the booth over the top of him. Letting go of his hand, she leant across him grabbing the chain strap of her bag in her hand. Her eyes flickered to his as she slowly stood back up, her teeth sinking into her lower lip before uttering a quiet, “thanks for the boost, Harry,” letting out an airy laugh as she turned on her heel and sauntered over to the bar. Y/N could almost feel Harry’s eye boring into the back of her head.

***

“Can I get two ‘Fantasmargaritas’ please?” Y/N smiled at, the very handsome, bartender.

“You’ve been here before, if you know our speciality” the bartender said as he began making the two drinks a soft smile gracing the man’s lips.

“Oh yeah, I tend to frequent the places I get my favourite margarita,” she praised sliding onto a bar stool at the end of the bar, “and the bar staff aren’t too bad either,” Y/N chuckled.

The bartender eyes snapped up at the woman’s bold comment before a genuine smile graced his face.

“Y/N, I should’ve known it was you with a comment like that,” he laughed putting the cocktail shaker down, wiping his hands down on his apron before coming round the end of the bar to pull her into a hug.

“Lennon,” Y/N sang, squeezing him as she hugged him back. “How have y’been?” she probed leaning on the bar top as Lennon stepped back round behind it to keep making her drinks.

“Between Uni and here? I’m living the dream, Y/N/N,” he laughed as he began shaking the cocktail vigorously.

“You’re doing your master’s now, right? How is it? I keep saying I’m going to go do mine, but I just don’t think I’ve got it in me,” she sighed.

“Well, I’ve only threatened to drop out about three times so, take from that what you will,” he snickered.

“Oh, so better than undergraduate then? Considering you were dropping out of that every other week,” Y/N teased him as he let out a loud laugh.

“Nah, it could be worse, who are y’here with anyway?” Lennon asked his eyes scanning the length of the bar to look for any other person his friend could be with.

“We’re the birthday group in the middle, pink foil hat? That’s us.” she smiled pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Ah, the group with Mr. Styles,” Lennon said knowingly, pouring the first margarita in a glass over ice before filling up the shaker to repeat the process.

“Not you as well,” Y/N let out a huff in annoyance at Harry being dragged into another conversation.

“Hey, we were all told he was here and to be on our best behaviour, that’s all I’m saying,” he looked up as Y/N took a long drink from her freshly made drink.

“See, this is the issue, y’hear he’s here and suddenly everyone is acting different and bending over backwards,” she began to rant before calming down with another sip of the drink.

“So, I take it you’re not a fan?” Lennon snorted as he passed the other drink over to Y/N.

“He’s a twat.” Y/N said firmly.

“He seems keen on you then,” Lennon countered as he cleaned up the mess he’d made from making the drinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Y/N quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Just that he’s not taken his eyes off of you the entire time we’ve been talking,” Lennon said lowly, looking past her head, clocking Harry. Y/N swivelled in her seat, to look over her shoulder, as nonchalantly as possible, to see that, indeed, Harry was staring the interaction between Y/N and Lennon down. When he caught her looking, he kept his eyes on hers and his lips ticked into that signature smirk. Y/N spun back round to see Lennon laughing at her noise of disgust and her eyeroll. “What’s even the matter between you two?” Lennon looked at her with a puzzled expression as he began mixing a few other drinks for other customers.

“He’s just never been that nice of a person to me, and I’m not going to be nice to a wanker that doesn’t deserve it,” Y/N sighed taking another sip from her drink.

“Y’ever thought you maybe weren’t that great to him either when you met?” Lennon suggested tentatively.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N’s jaw fell open at his accusing.

“Look, I know you, y’can be a bit… guarded, shall we call it, and he was taking Sarah away from you-”

“I’m really happy for Sarah and the opportunities he’s given her,” Y/N shot back.

“I’m not saying you’re not, you two were attached at the hip and to go from that to hardly seeing each other, ever thought y’blamed him for that?” Lennon proposed slinging his towel over his shoulder. Y/N sat quietly for a few moments, trying to let what Lennon said sink in, he’s not wrong, in fairness. She knows she can be a tough cookie to crack on first meeting, could she have been nicer, she pondered.

“No, fuck that, and even if it’s true that doesn’t give him any excuse to act like a knob and continue being a complete and utter dickhead-”

“Y/N” Lennon cut her off suddenly and she soon found out why when she felt a presence over her shoulder and arm land on the seat back.

“Who’s a dickhead?” that slow drawl Y/N was accustomed to hearing questioned.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Y/N muttered her back arching away from his arm across the back of her stool. Lennon’s eyes flickered between the two before settling on Harry.

“What can I get you, mate?”

“Reposado on the rocks, top shelf,” Harry replied, his eyes still stuck on the side of Y/N’s head as Lennon walked down the bar to grab the top shelf bottle of tequila.

“So, you disappear for a few minutes, and I find you flirting with the bar staff, hm?” Harry said still with a shit-eating grin stuck to his face.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Y/N shot back.

“Sure looked like it,” Harry shrugged moving to lean on the bar top and stare her down.

“What does it matter to you if I was?” Y/N demanded, an unimpressed look settling on her features.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I was just… curious,” Harry began, his eyes quickly taking her in, she was perched on the stool, one knee crossed over the other, her tall heels peeking out the bottom of her wide legged black dress trousers which had a gold pinstripe through them. She had a black graphic tee with a print that Harry didn’t recognise tucked into the waistband, the shirt was just low cut enough his eyes could linger across her decolletage, where her gold chain sat pretty.

“Curious?” Y/N asked leaning forward in her seat towards him, seemingly drawn in.

“Wanted to see how you flirt, if you’re going for the bar staff you must be getting desperate,” Harry teased.

“Go to hell, Harry,” she spat out at him before calling over to Lennon, “how much do I owe you,” she asked trying to dig out her wallet from her bag as quickly as she could so she could get away from Harry as soon as possible.

“Oh uh- let me check,” Lennon said, sensing the tension between the two patrons of the bar, turning round to check the price on the register.

“I’ll get it,” Harry voiced his hand pulling out his own wallet.

“I can pay for my own drinks, Harry,” Y/N fired back.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just saying I’ll get these, I’ve got the rest of them all night,” Harry muttered, the last bit under his breath.

“What?” Y/N asked, realising that someone had to be paying for the cocktails that kept appearing for her at the table during dinner, she just didn’t expect it to be Harry.

“Nothing,” Harry murmured, pulling a few notes out his wallet.

“Uh, I’m going to take this to Sarah, Lennon it was nice seeing you,” Y/N finished her own margarita before lifting the full glass to take back to the table.

“Yeah, you too Y/N, I’ll call you, yeah, we’ll have a proper chat,” he smiled at her.

“Mhm, yeah, please do call. I think I need to go get some air,” Y/N slid off the stool and turned walking back to the table to take Sarah her drink. Her head swimming, thinking about the absolute mindfuck that is Harry Styles.

She walked back to the table, leaning into the booth to catch Sarah’s attention.

“Oh hi, Y/N/N, thought you got lost,” Sarah smiled up, her eyes heavy as she was a bit more intoxicated that when Y/N had last seen her.

“Nah, not lost, ran into a friend and then, um,” she paused not knowing what to say, “here’s your drink Jonesy,” she said changing the subject, placing the glass down in front of her.

“Ahh, thank you, my gorgeous, favourite, best friend,” Sarah bubbled, taking Y/N’s hand, and placing a kiss to it.

“You’re welcome, silly, listen I’m just going to step out for a bit of air,” Y/N smiled at Sarah who pouted in return. She had good reason to pout too, Y/N had this habit of ‘stepping out for air’ and failing to return, she’d just decide she was over it and go home without saying anything. “Promise I’ll be back, look, I’m even leaving my jacket, y’know I love that jacket,” Y/N pointed down at the crumpled jacket sat on the bench next to Sarah. Y/N straightened Sarah’s party hat on top of her head after it had slipped down the back again before turning round and making her way to the exit. She had to walk past the bar on her way out the room and tried to keep her eyes on the floor, but she just couldn’t help it. They flashed up to connect with Harry’s own green ones as she left. He seemed to be in a conversation with Adam and Lennon behind the bar, although Harry was seemingly not that interested because as soon as Y/N’s eyes were on him he clocked her. Y/N heard him utter a “keep the change mate,” as he left a few notes on the bar top as she exited the gallery and went out onto the street. The street was surprisingly quiet considering the time of night, which Y/N was grateful for as she leant against the wrought-iron railing of sketch and looked towards the sky inhaling deep breaths of the cool summer air.

She was confused to say the least. He didn’t get to do that to her, he didn’t get to act like he hated her then pay for her all evening without telling, what even was that? She tipped her head back further trying to find stars but was left bitterly disappointed, as always, when the London smog and light pollution kept them from her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he stood next to her now, as she kept her eyes trained on the sky, refusing to look at him.

“I have a lot of thoughts, don’t think you would want to hear half of them,” Y/N laughed dryly.

“Try me,” Harry persisted.

“Hm,” Y/N let silence fall between them, pulling her gaze from the sky to the reflection in the windows of the building across the street. She saw herself, arms folded across her chest, one ankle crossed over the other, and the taller figure next to her, leant against the railing with his head tilted so he could see her in his eyeline, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet.

“You don’t like me,” Harry mumbled.

“Where did you get that idea?” Y/N asked sarcastically, still watching their reflection, “you don’t like me either,” she finished. Harry didn’t respond to that, just let the silence hang between them.

“Why did you even come out here?” Y/N demanded, her voice raising now, annoyed at Harry’s silence, “if you’re not going to say anything.”

“I just wanted to see if you wer-” Harry began before his voice died in his throat.

“What? See if I was okay, that’s rich, I can look after myself,” she shot him down, beginning to seethe at him lingering over her.

“Y’know what Y/N, you don’t get to act like you’re the only pissed off one here,” Harry’s own voice raising a few decibels.

“What the hell have you got to be pissed about? Y’bought me a few drinks, that I didn’t know about, and I didn’t fall to your feet, if it’s that big a deal Harry I’ll send you the money for them, god forbid I owe you anything,” Y/N scoffed at him, finally turning her body round to look at him, she was sure her eyes were blazing by now as she took him in, his jaw set.

“See, this is what I mean, it’s not a big deal, I don’t want y’to pay for them and I certainly never asked you to fall to my feet. You make out I expect everyone to worship me, and never once, have I said that. Not once, Y/N.” Harry rebuffed, running a hand through his hair.

“Everyone changes when you’re around Harry, whether you notice it or not, everyone changes their behaviour because you’re there, y’just don’t like it because I don’t, I treat you exactly how you treat me,” Y/N said, her voice calming ever so slightly, the calm before the storm some would say.

“Oh yeah, and how is it I treat you Y/N?” Harry fumed.

“Like shit,” Y/N said lowly getting closer to Harry’s face to make sure he heard her, before stepping back again, her head turning back round to see the reflection. “You treat me like shit, Harry.”

“How? When have I ever treated you badly?” Harry asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

“You called me desperate not even twenty minutes ago, I wouldn’t exactly call that friendly banter,” she hissed out at him. “That’s not the first time either.”

“I don’t mean that shit, Y/N,” Harry cringed at the memory, he had said she was desperate and probably more than once.

“Well, that’s sort of hard to believe when you keep saying it. You’re a grade A arsehole Harry, we don’t like each other, let’s call it a day at that.” Y/N was ready to be done with the conversation, argument, row, whatever the pair were having get in a taxi and go, she could always pick up her jacket from the restaurant in the morning.

“Nah, you don’t get to walk off and say that I’m the only arsehole in this situation,” Harry began taking another step towards her as they stared each other down. “You’ve never liked me, when we first met, I tried so fucking hard with you, Y/N, but you wouldn’t let me, I invited you to shows, I asked about what you did, I did everything I was supposed to. You’re the one who decided not to open up, you’re the one that shut me down before even giving me a fucking chance.” Harry’s voice was getting louder again.

“Keep your voice down,” Y/N hissed at him.

“No, I won’t, not until you tell me why, why you decided from the get-go that I wasn’t good enough for Miss Y/L/N, hmm?” Harry’s eyes narrowed at her.

“You’re a twat,” Y/N muttered.

“Yeah, you’ve said, now why?” Harry pushed.

“Because…” Y/N’s voice shrank, barely audible as a car engine cut above it as it drove down the street.

“Because what, Y/N? Come on y’know I haven’t got all night, seeing as you seem so concerned about my busy schedule, eh?” Harry’s words, dripping in sarcasm and Y/N was, honestly, quite over the condescending tone, so she lost it.

“Because I’m fucking jealous, alright!” Y/N almost shouted, a baffled look crossing Harry’s face but before he could interject, she kept going. “I’m jealous of your relationship with Sarah, feel like y’took her from me, and now she’s got you, and Mitch, and all these incredible opportunities, and I’m so fucking happy for her because she deserves it more than anybody I know, deserves it more than you,” she said giving him a pointed look, “but I’m jealous, because she doesn’t need me anymore okay, you took her from me and now she doesn’t need me. That’s why I can’t stand you.”

“You’re mental, y’know that?” Harry questioned.

“Oh, fuck off, Harry,” Y/N began to walk away.

“No, you’re not walking away, Y/N,” Harry grabbed her forearm pulling her back to him. “Of course, Sarah needs you, you’re her best friend, she was going to cancel this whole thing tonight if you told her y’werent coming, she’s been thinking for weeks you would tell her no, she done all of this just so you could spend time together.” Harry said sincerely. “As for the jealousy thing, that’s just fucking ridiculous, I’ve been jealous of you the entire time,” he scoffed.

“Jealous of me?” Y/N almost screeched, “now I know you’ve lost it,” rolling her eyes at him.

“Of course, I’m bloody jealous, everyone automatically likes you for you, no one puts on a front as you put it, just to be mates with you, why d’you think I tried so hard to be your friend,” Harry barked, they were still almost shouting at each other in the street at this point, surely still too worked up to realise their voices were so loud.

“I don’t think calling me desperate is a way to be my friend,” Y/N refuted as they got in each other’s faces.

“Well, I don’t think calling me a prick and arrogant to every person y’meet is a way to be mine, god you’re fucking aggravating” he spat, keeping his darkened eyes on hers.

“Who said I wanted to be your friend, anyway” Y/N bellowed, arms crossing, defences going back up after she came clean about why she had a disdain towards him.

“What did you want to be then?” his signature smirk played at the corner of his lips.

“You make it easy to want to slap that stupid smirk off your face,” Y/N chastised, stepping back, leaning against the railing again as Harry stepped to stand in front of her, her arm came up to stop his approach, hand landing on his solid chest.

Harry’s eyes glanced down to see her hand against his chest, “Y/N,” he said his voice dropping down lowly as his own hand came up to clutch at the wrist of her hand that was pressing into him. Her eyes stayed on his.

“I’m going to kiss you,” his voice warned, stepping closer as he pulled her hand away from his chest, keeping a grip on her wrist.

“You’re not serious?” Y/N mumbled, her tongue darting out to wet her lips on instinct.

“As a heart attack,” his lips were on hers, in a lingering kiss before he pulled back, his eyes searching hers before a breathy laugh came from his nose seeing her jaw dropped open in surprise.

“So bloody aggravating…” he almost groaned, ready to turn around and walk away from the infuriating girl but before he got the chance to step backwards, Y/N had ripped her arm from his grip and threw it around his neck, pulling him into her body and into another searing kiss. Their lips moved feverishly against each other as Harry stood closer to her, crowding over her, his hands coming to rest on either side of her body gripping the railing. She left one hand at the nape of his neck and the other gripped his bicep through the blue checked jacket he was wearing. Harry’s tongue slipped through his lips and traced her bottom lip, at Y/N’s gasp, he took it as his go ahead as he licked into her mouth, his tongue caressing hers as their lips still worked each other. Y/N’s hands carded up into the back of Harry’s hair as she gave a light tug to his roots. Breaking the kiss, as Y/N’s bag slipped down off her shoulder down the arm that was clutching onto Harry’s bicep, to rest in the bend of her elbow. Harry’s own hand came up to hold her jaw, his fingers resting under her earlobe, his thumb caressing her cheek as he placed kissed down the opposite side of cheek and jaw, before trailing down her neck, sucking lightly at the skin as he went.

“H-Harry, more, need more,” Y’N uttered her hips ticking forward to press her entire body against his. He came up for air before pressing another kiss to her lips.

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” He smirked against her lips, his knee splitting her legs open so his thigh could rest in between hers.

“You really are a prick,” Y/N groaned pulling at his hair again.

“You still live in Camden?” He whispered pressing another kiss under her earlobe. Y/N nodded her head as best she could given her predicament. “C’mon Y/N/N, let’s go,” he went to stick his hand out to hail a taxi that was making its way down the street.

“I said don’t call me that, you don’t get nickname privilege just for a kiss” she gritted out before grabbing his hand to stop him hailing the car. “I need to go get my jacket and say bye to Sarah,” she said trying to untangle herself from him.

“Just text Sarah,” he moaned trying to intertwine their fingers, “I’ll get you a new bloody jacket, let’s just go, wanna find out what does get me nickname privileges.”

“Don’t be a twat, this is why people like me, cause I’m nice and say goodbye, try it sometime, you could learn something,” Y/N said knocking him away from the sucking mark he was trying to leave on her neck, “and I’m getting my own jacket, y’can’t jus’ throw money at it, that’s what makes you seem like a knob,” Y/N snorted walking back to the entrance of ‘sketch’ before calling to him over her shoulder, “call a car, I won’t be long.” She strut back in, swinging her hips just a little more to rile him up.

“You’re a bitch,” he called after her.

“I know, you’ve said” Y/N winked at him as she walked back into sketch.

***

“Y/N/N!!!” Sarah was wobbling on her feet by the time that Y/N reached her back at the table as she was doing some sort of two step to the music playing. “Hiya gorgeous, listen, I’m feeling a little worse for wear after being outside,” she absolutely was not, if anything, her time outside with Harry had sobered her up massively. “I think I’m going to grab my things and head home, okay?” Y/N said her hands holding onto Sarah’s to keep her best friend steady.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Sarah’s pout started to form

“Nah, honestly, I’ve got a meeting tomorrow too,” she didn’t, “need to try and sober up for that so I can get through that without the need to be sick,” Y/N giggled to try and convince Sarah of her little white lie.

“D’you need me to call you a ride, or I’ll get Mitch to do it,” Sarah clutched onto Y/N’s arm to hold herself steady.

“What am I doing?” Mitch piped up from behind Sarah taking a grip of his girlfriend so Y/N could let her go to slide her jacket on.

“Nothing, s’fine, I’ve already ordered a car it’s on its way, promise I’m fine,” Y/N smiled at them both.

“As long as you’re sure,” Sarah said with a blissed-out smile, her hand coming up to clumsily rumple Y/N’s hair.

“Perfectly sure,” Y/N laughed at Sarah clutching her hand that she picked off the top of her head, “I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” she said sliding her bag back up on her shoulder.

“Thank you so so much for coming, Y/N/N, wouldn’t have even done this if you couldn’t make it,” Sarah threw herself into Y/N’s arms in a tight embrace as Y/N suddenly felt overcome with love for her best friend.

“Ah, you’re turning me to mush. I love you Jones, so much,” Y/N said wistfully, giving the brunette a squeeze before untangling herself to make her leave. Just as she was about to walk back past the bar to exit, she heard a call from behind her.

“Y/N! You haven’t seen Harry, have you? I’ve not seen him since he was at the bar with you, and that was a while ago,” Mitch called across the room as Sarah looked up at her partner with a puzzled look in her eye.

“Uh-uh n-no I’ve not seen him, sorry Mitchy, I’ll uh- see you guys soon,” Y/N stammered out as Mitch quirked an eyebrow at her, seemingly sceptical of her answer. Giving herself a shake, she gave the group a quick wave before making a dash to leave again.

She finally made it out onto the street, not after bumping into Lennon in the doorway who was having a smoke, Y/N tried to rush through the customary ‘it was so nice seeing you’ and the ‘we’ll catch up soon,’ before Lennon was placing a quick kiss to the cheek as she dashed out.

She looked at the railing where she had left Harry to find it void of any other people, looking up the street to see it deserted too. Surely, he hadn’t left. She spun on her heel to face the opposite end of the street to see the maddening man with his tousled hair leaning against an idling car a few paces down, with the rear passenger seat propped open.

“Didn’t think I’d leave, did you?” Harry questioned as Y/N set off towards him.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Y/N stopped in front of him speaking bluntly.

“Well, that’s a nice surprise for you that I stayed then, eh? Your chariot awaits,” he winked holding out his hand in offering to help her into the car. She glanced down at his manicured hand before ignoring it completely, tossing her bag into the backseat and following in after it – without his assistance.

“My chariot,” Y/N snorted turning to see him sliding in the car next to her. “a private hire town car, y’sure know how to treat ‘em, Styles.”

“Hey if I don’t get nickname privileges neither do you,” he muttered slamming the door shut.

“Styles is hardly a nickname when it’s your actual name,” Y/N retorted as the driver took off on the quarter of an hour journey.

“Shut up and c’mere, yeah?” Harry hushed her grabbing her hand that laid on the bench between them. Y/N leaned over her lips ghosting over his, but never quite meeting, no matter how much Harry tilted his head trying to slot them together.

“Can’t even wait 15 minutes to kiss me, think you’re the desperate one, Harry,” she whispered her breath fanning across his face before she pulled away and sitting back in her seat, a glimmer of mischief in her eye as Harry kept his hand in hers.

“You’re a-“

“I’m a bitch, should think of some new names to call me, Harry, that one’s getting old,” her eyes were sparkling now as she continued to push at his buttons.

“You’re the devil,” he kept his eyes on her as she bit her lip seductively, whether she meant it that way or not, it was certainly seducing Harry.

“Well, you know what they say, treat them mean, keep them keen,” she laughed airily.

“Oh, I’m definitely keen,” Harry’s voice was thick with lust as he took their hands that were intertwined, lifting their tangled fingers to his knee, before dragging them up his thigh and resting her hand over the growing hardness in his trousers, leaving his own hand over the top of hers. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes cast down to where her hand lay resting, back up to his own gaze. If she could see herself, she knew her eyes would be dark with want, the sparkle of mischief being taken over completely by her desire for him. “Cat got your tongue, Y/N?” Harry breathed, leaning over his nose running the length of her jaw from her ear lobe up to the corner of her mouth where he placed another kiss. Harry was chuckling wickedly at Y/N’s seemingly shocked reaction to his boldness. Her eyes flickered from where their hands remained unmoving, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip before her eyes came up to focus on Harry’s bright green eyes. She ticked forward, leaning in closer to him before uttering lowly, “no, but it’s certainly got yours.” With that, the hand that was resting on Harry’s ever pressing erection, twitched, as she took a hold of him through the fabric of his trousers and squeezed lightly, cutting off Harry’s mocking laughter, his breath catching in his throat as he fought to keep his hips from jerking up into Y/N’s grip.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he kept his gaze on hers, “how long left mate?” he called over to the driver, his voice raspy with need and before he even heard their driver’s response, he surged forward to connect their lips again, his free hand coming up to tangle in her hair on the back of her head.

***

She took his hand this time. As the car stopped outside Y/N’s flat and Harry slid out the backseat he held his hand out and this time she actually took it to hoist herself out the car, while adjusting the low-cut t-shirt - that was showing just a bit more than she was comfortable with for a public street – that had become displaced with the pairs heavy petting in the backseat.

“Don’t do that on my account, I’ll get to see a lot more in a few minutes,” Harry grinned his eyes dipping down to try and catch an eyeful.

“You’ll see fuck all, if you keep talking to me like that,” Y/N started taking her hand back before slapping him in the chest and taking her bag out of his other hand that he had grabbed on his way out the car, stalking towards the front door. Harry’s hurried footsteps chased Y/N up to the front door and he gripped her hips from behind, pressing himself into her.

“Don’t be like that,” he almost whimpered out. She paid him no mind as she rifled through her bag looking for the bundle of keys, not even as he took his hand and pulled her hair away from her neck and began pressing long, sucking kisses to her neck, occasionally grazing her skin with his teeth which made Y/N shudder. She managed to open the building door and spun around gripping his hand to lead him in. “Hope you can keep your hands to yourself long enough to get upstairs,” she said keeping their hands intertwined as she led him to the stairs.

“Which floor?” Harry asked lowly pulling her into his chest before she started up the steps to stop her.

“Third,” Y/N breathed.

“Better give me somethin’ to tide me over then, babe,” he disconnected their hands wrapping his own round the small of her back, pressing her into him as he sealed their lips together. His tongue split through his lips and traced her own bottom one begging for entrance which she gladly gave him, their tongues meshing. Harry stood over the top of her as he kept her in place against his body, Y/N needed to get some power back in the dynamic they were in, so pushed up on her toes, her teeth lightly nipped into Harry’s bottom lip, pulling it back and letting it pop back into place as she unlocked his hands from her back and began up the stairs at high speed to gain some ground on him. The sound of her heels hitting the steps, echoing in the quiet building.

She made it to her front door before he caught up with her, turning the key in the lock quickly entering the flat and spinning on her heel to face out her front door. Harry approached with looking wild-eyed as he took her in, holding the door so he couldn’t enter. He placed one hand on the door frame and leant in to try and capture her lips in his again, but she turned her head, so he caught her cheek.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, brows furrowing.

“Say sorry,” that glint of mischief was back in Y/N’s eye.

“Huh?”

“Say sorry, or y’can forget about whatever we were going to do,” her tone was playful, Y/N knew herself, even if he told her to do one with her request for an apology, she would probably let him and let him do whatever he pleased with her, she was too far gone for him now. Though she wanted to see how far she could push him.

“Y/N, babe…” he started, give him his due, he did look sincere, although that could be the insane pressure, he was feeling, building in his underwear that was forcing him to give in and give her anything she wanted. “I am sorry, truly.”

“Hmm, for what?” she tilted her head at him, questioning, although Harry swore, she opened the door slightly further.

“For calling you desperate…”

“And?”

“And for being rude and generally, jus’ being a prick to you,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Hmm,” Y/N pondered over his words.

“What else d’you want me to say Y/N, fuck’s sake, you really are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” and at that Y/N pulled him into the flat by his shirt, shutting the door and locking it behind him before planting her lips back on his.

“You’re insufferable Harry and the biggest arseho-” Y/N began but she cut herself off with her own moan as Harry pushed her back into the wall of the flat’s entryway, his mouth beginning to suck and leave bruising marks across her neck.

“Yeah? Tell me how you really feel baby, tell me y’hate me, come on,” Harry grunted as he shucked her leather jacket from her shoulders letting it land on the laminate flooring, pressing his hips forward so she could feel his cock against her thigh.

“I do, I do hate you,” Y/N panted her hand coming up to weave her fingers through his thick hair keeping his lips to her neck.

“The feelings mutual, princess,” he growled into her throat before coming up to nip at her earlobe. Harry split her legs open with his knee and brought his thigh to the apex of her own, much like he had done outside sketch but this time he didn’t have to hold back. He brought his hands to the plush of Y/N’s hips and encouraged her to rock herself back on his thigh, he could feel her heat radiating, even through their layers of clothing. A high whine escaped Y/N’s throat as she tipped her head back against the wall and her eyes screwing shut as she continued to grind herself down on him, Harry pulled away from her neck, watching her writhe in a fit of pleasure. “Look at you,” he moaned, he was getting off just watching her, “you can’t get enough, y’like a bitch in heat,” his tone was mocking but he has never been so turned on. Y/N pushed at his chest at his comment, before pulling off his own jacket and letting it fall to the floor with hers.

“Bedroom,” she spoke pulling herself from his thigh making her way down the hall to the closed door at the end.

“That was expensive, Y/N,” Harry chastised, looking down at his crumpled heap of a jacket.

“Oh, go fucking cry about it,” Y/N rolled her eyes and when Harry started along the hall to her, she quickly tugged her t-shirt from the waistband of her trousers and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her in her heels, trousers and revealing her black bra to him where he could see her pert nipples pressing against the sheer fabric.

Entering her bedroom, Harry toed off the vans he was wearing at the door and pushed her back into her bed, hovering over her, hands on either side of her head. Y/N’s own hands gravitated to the waistband of his trousers, popping the button of the brown fabric, before grabbing at the fabric of the white Christopher Kane ‘Sex’ t-shirt he was wearing before pulling it up and over his head.

“Interesting choice of shirt,” she heaved out as Harry was licking and sucking his way to her breast, teasing her nipple through the mesh fabric.

“Call it a manifestation or somethin’” he replied, teeth grazing at one nipple while his hand cupped her other breast. Y/N could feel his length against her own pelvis and couldn’t help but buck her hips up looking for a bit of friction, the movement caused a groan to emit from low in Harry’s throat his eyes flickering up to watch her with his mouth still wrapped round her nipple through her bra. She couldn’t help it, she needed him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist pulling him tight against her, the heels of her shoes accidentally pressing into his ass.

“Eh ow?” Harry complained, pulling away from her breasts.

“Get a shift on and take them off then we won’t have a problem, will we?” Y/N retorted pulling her legs up to her chest, so he had access to remove her shoes.

“Won’t have a problem,” he grumbled under his breath, mocking what she said as he caught her by the ankle, her trouser leg rolling up to her knee as he placed a kiss where the shoe ended on her ankle. His nimble fingers quickly unlaced them before he gripped the spindly heel and tugged. Only for the shoe not to budge. He tried again to no avail. His brow furrowed he looked up to Y/N to see her lips pressed together trying not to laugh.

“There’s a zip on the back,” she snickered.

“How long were you going to keep that a secret, huh?” Harry complained finally tossing both shoes over his shoulder.

“Just wanted to see you struggle,” she giggled, reaching behind her back to remove her own bra pulling it from her arms, Harry’s eyes widening at her boldness.

“Is that how it is?” he gripped the waistband of her trousers and pulled her up into a seated position with her legs on either side of his, voice taunting her.

“Fuck you,” she spat at him.

“No, no Y/N, that’s what I’m trying to do to you,” he said softly, popping the fastening of her trousers and dragging the zipper down. She lifted her hips to aid him peeling them from her legs before he laid her back down on the swathes of blankets and her duvet. He began placing kisses down her body, stopping to dip his tongue into her clavicle, swirling it around each of her breasts and sucking each nipple into his mouth for just a second as Y/N’s back arched further into his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand was playing with the elastic of her underwear, lifting it, and letting it snap back in sharp bites against her skin. Her hips wiggled at each nip against them. Before he trailed too far down her body with his mouth, she stopped him.

“Wait, wait, stop,” she panted, and Harry’s gaze shot to hers, his head coming back up to level with hers immediately, eyes flickering all over her face checking he wasn’t pushing too far or doing something she didn’t want. “No, it’s fine, you’re fine, perfect in fact. Jus’ want these off first,” she reassured him before pushing at his trousers with shaking hands.

“Christ, Y/N, you scared me for a second, that I can do,” he went to help her draw his fly down before he paused, and that teasing lilt came back to his voice, “say please, baby.”

Y/N’s eyes blinked repeatedly, trying to take in what he said, she wanted him that was for sure. “Pl-please, Harry, please,” she almost whined, her hands gripping around his neck pulling him close, nuzzling into his neck. That’s the thing about Y/N she took no shit in her day-to-day life, but get her worked up enough in the bedroom, she would become almost docile. Almost.

“Yeah, I can do that. I’ve got you, promise, I’ve got you,” Harry groaned as he helped her push his trousers down past his hips and he kicked his legs free, a contented hum left her throat at the feeling of his bare legs against her own, finally. She could feel his hardened erection even more now as he ground himself into her, only separated by the thin fabric of each of their underwear. It was a series of pants and moans from there on out, from the pair of them.

Harry worked his way back down her body, gripping her underwear in his hands, he glanced back up at her, “can I?” and with a quick nod of her head he was sliding them down her legs, leaving his head resting on her thigh as he drank in the site of her, exposed to him. Her scent thick, folds glistening as a sign he had her worked up, she was pulling him in and before Harry could stop himself, his tongue was painting a wide strip up the length of her. Y/N’s hands flew to his hair, gripping it in fistfuls as his tongue went to work, dipping into where she wept for him before running back up and circling her sensitive clit, she wriggled and squirmed in response, hips bucking every time his tongue lingered directly on her clit.

“So fucking wet, aren’t you?” Harry groaned into her, his hips ticking into the mattress to relieve some of the tension that was building in his own crotch. “Keep still, Y/N,” he warned as she jerked up to his mouth again, and God love her, she did try to keep still, but she did say she was almost submissive in bed, Y/N still wanted to try and put up at least a little bit of a fight. She couldn’t help but try and grind her pussy against his mouth and with a quick nip to her hip he pulled away from her, his chin glistening in her arousal.

“I said, keep still,” his voice was low as he watched her with darkened eyes, as she tried to catch her breath from teetering on the edge that he pulled her back from.

“Or what?” Y/N challenged him, some of that control she liked coming back to her.

“I’ll stop,” he said, although he didn’t sound that convinced.

“I’d like to see you try, come on Harry, you know you’re just as desperate as you say I am.” She was straight up mocking him now, “maybe I’ll go back to the bar, or I’ll call Lennon, I’m sure he would sort me out, if I asked.”

With that, Harry was growling and diving back down to her mound, biting at the creases of her thighs in the process. “Not a fucking chance, this cunt is mine tonight,” he grumbled against her, licking and sucking with more determination and Y/N was approaching the edge quicker than ever. “Would that bartender make you feel like this, would he make you this wet, Y/N?”

“No- no Harry, you, jus’ you,” Y/N moaned loudly, her fingers carding through his hair, needing it to keep her tethered to reality. “Harry, I’m so- can I, can I co-come?” she was stuttering over her words as her legs began to shake over his shoulders.

He pulled his face from her, but let his fingers keep working at her to keep her close to her orgasm, his eyes gleamed wickedly in the soft glow of the bedroom lamps. “Oh no, you can’t come, baby, but thank you for asking.”

“Harry,” she whined out, her hands now going into her own hair, pulling at her roots to stop her from exploding.

“Hold it, Y/N, not until I say, y’won’t have to wait long, promise,” he was watching as his middle and ring finger worked in and out of her, the cool metal of his rings making her hiss when it collided with her hot flesh. He dipped his head back down, his tongue focusing on her clit, rolling it with the wet muscle, grazing with his teeth and he would garner the highest moans from her with quick flicks from his tongue. He kept his eyes on her face, seeing her teeth sinking into her lip every so often, her hands still pulling at her own hair.

“Hands on me,” he moaned against her, and her hands came down, her nails scratching into his scalp, Harry thrived on the slight bite of pain and was moaning lowly as he continued to rut his hips against the soft bedding, needing the friction against his painfully hard cock.

“Look at me,” he grunted as Y/N blinked down at him, her eyes almost looked panicked as she was hanging on the edge, right where Harry wanted her, on a knife edge.

“Come,” he demanded, “now, Y/N, let go babe.” That’s all she needed to hear as her orgasm bubbled over, shattering through her body as it quivered in release and a squeal leaving her lips as Harry worked her through it. “That’s it, fuck, good girl, I’ve got you. Can feel y’squeezing,” he groaned his fingers still curling inside trying to prolong her earth-shattering orgasm as long as he could until her own fingers wrapped round his wrist to stop his movements as she became overstimulated. He pulled his fingers from her before sucking them into his own mouth, moaning at her taste as he lapped them up as Y/N watched through her thick lashes as she caught her breath. He bent down, taking her into a searing kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth so she could get a taste of herself. She gripped his shoulders, Harry thought just because she was into the kiss, but was mistaken when she pulled him harshly and flipped them over, so his back hit her mattress with a puff of his breath leaving his throat at the collision.

“What’re yo-” he started trying to sit up, but Y/N kept his shoulders pressed down on the bed.

“Shh, it’s my turn,” and she went to work, suckling on his earlobe before trailing down his neck, letting her nails scratch lightly against his torso, leaving trails of goosebumps in their path.

“Y/N,” he whimpered, she could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling under her touch as her hand kept trailing down, he was still in his black briefs, and she could see the dampened spot that held the head of his cock pressed against them. She wanted them off, wanted to see him in all his glory, although she’d never let him hear that.

“What is it, Harry?” her tongue licked over his nipple before her teeth sank lightly into his pec. “Can’t keep still baby? Just remember, unlike you, I can stop, I could walk away and leave you right now, sweating, and needy,” she teased him, kisses dipping lower as her fingers began to skate under the thick band of his briefs. In a moment of boldness, her hand slipped completely into his underwear, and she gripped him, squeezing lightly and Harry let out a low, slow rumble at the sensation of finally having her hand on him. Y/N knew he was big from all their heavy petting and grinding, but now she had a grip of him she just had to see for herself. Scooting down her bed on her knees letting her free hand grip his underwear to pull them off, Harry raised his hips to help her long as she peeled them down his legs. His rock-hard length coming up to slap against his stomach, leaving a speckle of precum in its place. Harry watched her, his ego inflating as her eyes took in his impressive size.

“Look at you, you get off on thinking you have control,” his own hand came down to wrap around his dick, pumping slowly as she watched, thighs squeezing together, “but I know you, Y/N, you want to get your hands on me, to touch, to suck, to taste, to please me,” he taunted, thumbing over his head and slit pulling the oozing precum down to glide his hand easier. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore, and she swatted his hand off himself and wrapped her own back around, leaning over him. Harry’s breath caught as he watched her. She looked up at him, through her lashes as she opened her mouth letting a glob of spit fall and land on the crown of him as her hand began to stroke faster, her wrist twisting every time she got to the head and squeezing at his base. Harry could feel his muscles constricting in his abdomen and had to focus on not bursting as she began to kitten-lick his cock, tonguing up the ooze that was coming from his slit as she moaned at the taste.

“C’mon Y/N, be a good girl and put me in,” he tormented her, although the jeering tone dissipated relatively quickly when she nipped his thigh with her nails, and he hissed at the sharp pain.

“Get fucked, I’ll do what I want,” she complained as she squeezed his base and ran her tongue along the protruding vein on the underside of his shaft. She put him in her mouth, anyway, hollowing her cheeks and sucking his head intensely. He crumbled under the warm feeling of her mouth wrapping around him and began whimpering profusely and she began bobbing her head.

“Please, Y/N, take more, know y’can, please,” and if Harry thought she got off on the control he’d be glad to know she got off on his begging even more. She moaned and the vibrations shot through Harry, and he just couldn’t stop himself from his hips jerking as she choked around him, before having to pull off, saliva running down her chin and his cock. “Fuck m’sorry doll,” his hands scraping her hair back off her face.

“No s’fine, I can, I can do it, I like it,” she mumbled out before taking him back in her mouth working back down him slowly as not to accidentally gag herself. She got him to the back of her throat easier this time without Harry bucking up, as he kept her hair in his hands so he could watch. As she swallowed around him, a string of curses left his lips as he babbled praises at her. Y/N was thriving and trailed her free hand up his thighs to gently cup his balls. Harry was close, and with one roll and squeeze of her hand on his balls he was pulling her off him by her hair.

“Need you to stop or I’ll explode an’ I need to be inside you before I come, I need to,” he heaved out, trying to control himself.

She giggled at him as she lay down beside him, wiping her spit covered mouth on the back of her hand, “have at it then, Styles.” Grinning, Harry raised back up to his knees, leaning over her and kissing her deeply.

“D’you have a condom? I have, but it’s in my jacket on your bloody hall floor,” he said against her cheek as he peppered kisses there as she carded her fingers through his soft hair.

“Mm, top drawer, y’really need to get over the coat on the floor thing, cry-baby,” she joked as he rifled into the closest bedside table drawer, Y/N not really paying attention as she placed her own kisses on the patches of his warm skin closest to her.

“Don’t think this is a condom,” he held up a scanty piece of lace, Y/N realised was her underwear, looking to see Harry had been going through the wrong bedside cabinet.

“Wrong cabinet, arsehole,” she made a grab for her underwear and Harry pulled them from her grasp, looking joyfully down at the red lace between his fingertips.

“Can I keep these? Souvenir or reward or somethin’” he asked.

“Harry,” she warned as her hips ticked up, nudging his cock to try and get him back on track.

“Right, yeah, sorry,” this time leaning across the bed into the top drawer of the opposite bedside table, returning with a square foil package, leaving the bundled underwear behind. Feeling around the foil packet, he squeezed the condom down to the bottom before instructing Y/N to bite down on the material as he tore the package open by her teeth. Rolling it down his length, he sat with his tip at her entrance as she wriggled her hips down trying to get him to slip inside.

“Come on, Harry. Fuck me like you hate me,” she said as a parting shot as he gripped her hips and pushed in, Y/N’s back-arching at the stretch as Harry groaned in pleasure at her warm wet walls engulfing him. Once he was completely sheathed inside her, he paused, waiting for her to give him the go ahead. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, nails scratching at the skin before nodding, eyes rolling back slightly at the pressure she was feeling.

“Move, move, y’can move, please,” she choked out as Harry pulled out to slam back into her soft grunts leaving his throat. As their hips knocked together at a pace that Y/N was sure was going to bruise her, the room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat and their combined moans.

“Come on, Y/N, tell me you hate me,” he grunted out, hand trailing across her torso, tweaking at her nipple causing her to gasp and keen under his touch.

“I hate y-you,” she stammered out with her short breaths as her nails dug into his back at a particularly hard thrust.

“Yeah? Why, tell me why,” he moaned clutching behind her knee pushing it back into the bed so he could reach deeper inside her, a particularly loud moan escaped from the woman under him as he hit her g-spot repeatedly with his deeper thrusts, “there it is, there’s your spot,” he grunted, being purposeful with every thrust to hit it.

“I hate you for being rude,” she rushed out clutching onto his bicep of the arm that was keeping her knee pushed back, her toes flexing by his head. “I hate y’for calling me desperate,” she breathed out before folding for him and revealing how she really felt about that particular insult of his, “even though I am desperate, but just for you, desperate for you, Harry,” she choked out catching his eyes, her mouth falling open, there wasn’t even noise coming from her any longer, he was pounding into her so hard it she was focused on just getting oxygen in and out her lungs.

“Yeah?” he asked as she nodded pathetically, Harry’s thrusts slowing but still hitting deep and hard. “I know, y’desperate for me, can feel your needy cunt weeping for me,” his thumb came down to press into her clit, slipping around on the wetness that was pooling there. “I hate y’too, Y/N,” he grunted out, “I hate the way you wind me up, every. fucking. chance. you get,” he punctuated each word with a sharp thrust as Y/N’s hips ground down to meet his thrusts. “I hate the way that it’s the thought of you that’s got me off, ever since I bloody met you,” he was rubbing tight circles into her clit now trying to get her to a point where they could careen off the edge together. “I hate the way, we should’ve fucked months ago and avoided all the fucking arguments and rows,” he panted out.

“Fuck, Harry, m’so close, I can feel you everywhere,” Y/N’s moans were uncontrollable now as she took his hand off her knee and pressed it to her lower stomach to stimulate her that way too as she hooked her thighs over his hips.

“I know, baby, I know, come on, fucking come for me, drench me, I wanna feel it,” his thumb would not let up on her clit as he pushed further on her stomach, and with that, the scale tipped. Her whole body seized as she came, squeezing his cock in a vice as he continued to thrust to chase his own high and work Y/N through hers. Y/N’s back arched as she let go, a loud long moan escaping her. Blinking her eyes open she caught Harry’s gaze as he began to go slack-jawed about to meet his own end.

“Come, want you to come, baby. Need to see you come, Harry,” she begged as she began to recover from her second orgasm, her words were Harry’s undoing as he slammed into her once more, both hands gripping her hips to keep her still as he spilled into the condom that Y/N could still feel the warmth of him seep through the latex barrier.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out, falling into her neck, where he placed soft kisses to her sweaty skin as she stroked his fingers through his hair.

“You okay?” she questioned into the quiet once they had caught their breath.

“Peachy… you?” he sighed out, raising his head from her neck to look at her.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine, great in fact,” she said, though Harry wasn’t convinced as he pulled out with a hiss, quickly disposing of the condom before laying down to face her.

“Hey, m’serious, what’s up?” he questioned tucking her hair back that had fallen into her face as she flipped to lay facing him too.

“I don’t know, that was… weird, right? We don’t do stuff like that, we don’t like each other,” she stammered out while also, subconsciously, leaning into Harry’s touch that lingered on her face.

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Harry stated simply as he drank her in, her skin glowing and eyes sparkling in post-orgasmic bliss, although she was still lost in thought, as she contemplated his words.

“I lied though,” Harry said softly as her eyes snapped up to his as he kept her gaze, “I don’t hate you, not even a little bit,” he breathed out, a small airy laugh following his admission, who would have thought he just need to have sex with Y/N to reveal how he truly felt.

“You piss me off, sometimes… a lot of the time actually” Y/N whispered into the dark as Harry laughed quietly at her remark, “but, I don’t hate you either, not at all,” she smiled softly at him before Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, kissing her deeply.

Breaking away from the kiss, Harry looked into her eyes, “do I get nickname privileges now?”

Out in the hall, Y/N’s phone vibrated in her handbag, that had been cast aside with the jackets on the floor, with a text from her brunette best friend.

Sarah Jones: Me and Mitch home safe, thank youu soo much for coming Y/N/N.. enjoy your night with Harry xoxo

summer

A bead of sweat rolls off of her neck and right onto her chest. The air conditioner had broken a couple of weeks back and with the middle of the heatwave going on right now, she could feel every part of it. Her mother would have scolded her for waiting so long to fix an appliance but, with no job and a whole bunch of student loans she couldn’t necessarily afford to pay for it at this time. 

A part of her wishes she was still a little naive girl. One who lives with her mother, who so diligently takes care of her. One that doesn’t have to worry about taxes or insurance. One who can enjoy the world as it truly is, the simplicity of not having to worry about what to do next but, rather focus on the present.

She gets up from her spot on the couch and grabs a hold of the edge of the window and pulls with all she can upwards. She feels the humidity of the air from outside hit her stomach. Letting out a sigh she waddles over to her closet, pulling the door handle and watching it open. In front of her lies a mess of clothes, books, and a couple of tools. To her credit, she had tried to clean up a bit by stacking the books sloppily atop one another and pushing them off to the side. The clothes were another story, just thrown in there in a hurry as if to say this will be done another day. 

She lazily throws her clothes out of the closet before seeing the edge of her white prize. Excitedly she pulls her clothes faster than before and gives a bright smile to her newfound fan.

She rushes over to the window she left ajar not even a couple of minutes ago and shoves the fan in. She grabs the cord and plugs it into the outlet which conveniently is right next to the window. Immediately cool air comes through and she lets out a sigh before quickly placing herself in front of it.

Three sharp taps hit her front door which takes her out of her pure bliss immediately. She peers at the door before another three knocks come raining down. She sighs and stumbles up from the chair. Peering through her peephole she rolls her eyes as she sees the tall lanky man standing in front of her door through the fisheye lens.

Unhooking the chain and unlocking the door she fully opens her door completely and walks away from it, allowing it to fall. She goes back to her previous position in front of the fan and closes her eyes

The man quickly grabs a hold of the door and scampers in. 

“Lock the door will you”

He chuckles and follows her command making sure to fasten the bolt. 

He pulls at the collar of his shirt as he walks further into her apartment. A couple of new pieces of art catch his eyes and he admires them briefly before grabbing a chair and pulling it up to her. 

“It’s awful hot in here”

“Really I couldn’t tell,” she remarks, sarcasm dripping through her voice. She flicks his forehead as if to scold him. 

The two of them sit in comfortable silence for a couple more minutes before he clears his throat. 

“Wanna go back to my place?”

She scoffs at his question and gets up from the chair going to unlock the door. She slips on some shoes and opens the door. She looks at him from over her shoulder.

“You coming?”

hey guys! This is my first post on here..I’ve been wanting to write for tumblr for a while but I haven’t gotten around to it til now. I’ve put together this Instagram concept so I hope you enjoy lovelies! ❤︎︎

INSTAGRAM CONCEPT

Pairing: Harry styles x fem!reader

Summary: For a few months y/n and harry have practically vanished from social media, and the public, until one day when a singular post from the two of them makes the fans freak out.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟

Liked by Annetwist and Harrystyles and 4,765,867 others

yourinstagram baby styles on board

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Harrystyles so excited to be starting this new chapter with you x 🤰

harryfan1 I’M CRYING

ynfan3 oh my GOD!! WHATT??

Annetwist I’m over the moon for you two! I’m going to be a grandma!

yourinstagram @/Annetwist thank you Anne!

Florencepugh my bestie is having a baby!!

yourinstagram @/florencepugh ahhhh!!

ynfan2 SHES HAVING A BABY! I’m so happy for them 🥹

Liked by Annetwist and yourinstagram and 5,829,124 others

Harrystyles girl dad..

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yourinstagram you’re outnumbered styles

Harrystyles @/yourinstagram but I wouldn’t change it for the world

Gemmastyles I’m going to have a niece!! I’m so happy for you both💗

yourinstagram @/gemmastyles you’re gonna be an amazing auntie gem!

Annetwist a baby girl! xx

ynfan2 HARRY IS A GIRL DAD

harryfan4 SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

harryfan2 I’m still in shock

Liked by Annetwist and harrystyles and 2,821,928 others

yourinstagram bump is bumping

View all 87,192 comments

Harrystyles beautiful as ever

ynfan2 her bump is so cute🥹

Harryfan5 I still can’t believe they’re going to be parents omg

ynfan1 SHES SO BEAUTIFUL

Annetwist you look gorgeous sweetheart! How’s baby styles doing?

yourinstagram @/Annetwist thank you Anne! She’s doing great, she’s definitely enjoying kicking my ribs though lol

Harryfan3 I can’t get over how pretty she is

Harrystyles @/harryfan3 I know right, me either

Harryfan3 @/harrystyles WHAT?? I could cry😭

Liked by harryfan6 and 1,572 others

Harryupdates1 Harry via Instagram stories

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Harryfan2 she’s so beautiful

Harryfan4 I’m so unbelievably happy for them!!!

Harryfan1 ‘gorgeous mama’ omgg

Ynfan3 he’s so happy and so am I🥹

Liked by harrystyles and Annetwist and 5,239,927 others

yourinstagram Wren Styles, 7lb 8oz. Welcome to the world honey.

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Harrystyles I am so proud of you y/n, thank you for making me a daddy.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles 🩷

Annetwist she’s perfect, @/harrystyles and @/yourinstagram..I’m so proud!

ynfan1 SHES HERE?!

harryfan3 where have you been?!

yourinstagram @/harryfan3 sorry..I was busy having a baby!!

ynfan7 OMGOMGOMG

———

thanks for the love on my recent post! My requests are open, if anyone has anything they’d like to see let me know!

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

pairing: Harry styles x fem!author!reader

summary: Harry and y/n l/n are spotted walking together around London and people are speculating that they’re dating!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟

—

Liked by harrystyles and 276,822 others

yourinstagram coffee dates ☕️🫶

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harryfan2 is this the woman Harry was seen walking around London with???

ynfan1 WHO took this picture miss y/n?!

yourinstagram @/ynfan1 🙈🙈

Harrystyles ☕️☕️

harryfan4 @/harrystyles HARRY?? What’re you doing here!!

Miacollins I wonder who took the picture 🤔🤔

yourinstagram @/miacollins yes, mia, I wonder

harryfan2 Harry liked!!??

—

Liked by ynfan3 and 2,475 others

hsdaily Harry and y/n seemingly on a date today in London!

View all comments

Harryfan2 are they dating?

ynfan1 they’d be so cute together!

harryfan4 A DATE??

Liked by harrystyles and gemmastyles and 136,827 others

yourinstagram 🍓🍓

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Harrystyles tastes like strawberries

yourinstagram @/harrystyles Harry!!

harryfan8 @/harrystyles EXCUSE ME?

Gemmastyles you better save me some of them.

ynfan7 they look so good

harryfan2 did y’all see Harry’s story?!

ynfan1 HARRY AND GEMMA LIKED? They’re definitely together

Liked by 5,982 others

Harryflorals harry via Instagram stories!

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ynfan3 oh my god, did you see y/ns post?

harryfan1 THEY WENT STRAWBERRY PICKING TOGETHER AWW

harryfan8 I love them together

Liked by yourinstagram and 3,202,577 others

Harrystyles Love on tour. London IV. June, 2023.

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yourinstagram looking good Mr Styles

Harrystyles @/yourinstagram thank you, Miss l/n

ynfan8 their comments are everything

harryfan1 they’re definitely together, they have to be!!

harryfan3 y/n is so lucky

yourinstagram so proud

ynfan7 @/yourinstagram THATS SO CUTE

Liked by harrystyles and 342,928 others

yourinstagram A rise of dawn, book three of the midnights best series, is coming to you all very very soon.

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Harrystyles so proud of you my love

yourinstagram @/harrystyles I love you🤍

Ynfan2 OH MY GOD WHAT?

Harryfan6 ‘I LOVE YOU’ WHAT

Harryfan4 I knew it!!

Ynfan1 they’re dating!!

Gemmastyles y/n I can’t wait for this book, you left me on a cliffhanger

Hi! First of I wanted to say I loved your social media blurbs! If you can could you do a social media blurb or a one shot of y/n at Harry’s finale show with Gemma and Anne and you get engaged at the end :)

Notes: Heyy, thank you so much! Of course I can, I wasn’t too sure if you wanted the engagement to be publicised or in private so I did private. Also I apologise for posting this so late! And, don’t forget my requests are open so if anyone wants something wrote, send one!

Thanks for the request! ❤︎︎

ENGAGED

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summary: It’s the final show and Harry has been extremely nervous for this particular night, but not for the reason you think.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟

It’s the final show, and you’re stood here with Anne’s and Gemmas arms wrapped around you as Harry plays his piano Ballard . Your eyes a filled with adoration, tears threatening to fall. It gives you a moment to reminisce on the most special moments you’ve shared together. The best moments.

June 2009, the revelation

“Harry!” You squeal out, running towards his open arms. Them wrapping around your waist, lifting you into the air with a spin. He places you down gently with a soft smile.

“How’ve you been doin’?” He asks, you smile brightly.

“I’ve been great! I’m glad you’re back though, I got lonely.” You let out a nervous laugh, he laughs along with you—making you feel slightly less nervous. “How was the trip? Did you see any cool sights?” You ramble, he gestures you to slow down and your cheeks heat up.

“I saw loads! It was awesome.” He beams, before his face becomes serious. “I’ll tell you all ‘bout it, but I want to speak to you about somethin’ yeah?” Your brows furrow and you give him a look of confusion, you lead him to your room where it’s more private.

“Soo..what’s up?” You sit crossed legged on the bed, him eventually joining you with a shaky breath.

“I need to tell ‘ye something but I don’t want you to freak out,” Harry explains, eyes avoiding you until you softly grab his hand with a reassuring look.

“I promise I won’t freak out, you can tell me anything.” Your voice is soft, calming and gives Harry a familiar feeling once he hears it. He’s nods, exhaling loudly before looking you in the eyes with a nervous look.

“I like..you. I have for a few years, y/n, I’ve liked you for so long. I mean, what’s not to like? You’re smart, pretty, funny and your personality..if I start now I don’t think I’ll ever stop.” He breathes out, a slight smile on the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to say that you like me back..I mean how could yo-“

You cut him off with a small peck on his lips, pulling away and both of your cheeks are bright red. “I like you too Harry, a lot.” You giggle, he lets out a sigh of relief and leans in to place another kiss on your lips.

“I don’t want this t’a sound too cliché but do you wanna..I dunno, go out with me?” He speaks, looking at you hopefully with his dough eyes that you could just stare at all day. You nod, smiling widely which is immediately mirrored on his face.

“How could I ever say no to that question?”

July 2014, the promise

“Okay..you’re worrying me. What’s going on?” You ask with a light laugh, though a frown settles on your features. Harry is currently dragging you by the hand down a dimly lit path to the ‘beach’ near your house. You reach the end where he sighs, dropping your hand as you feel the now cold feeling in your hand. “You okay baby?”

“I love you, so much y/n. I always have and I want you to have something to show you that I promise to always love you. That I promise no matter what, I’ll always love you and be by your side.” Harry says, tone full of love and honesty making your heart flutter. Butterfly’s fill your stomach as he pulls out a small box.

He chuckles lightly, “don’t worry, I’m not proposing just yet but this is a promise that one day I will.” Your heart warms, smiling at him softly before letting out a small gasp when he opens the box to reveal a gold, flower engraved ring.

“Oh..Harry it’s beautiful.” You gasp out, looking at him with wide eyes.

“It’s a promise ring, I promise everything to you y/n. I’ll never leave your side, not once.” He takes it out and holds it at your finger, giving you a look which you understand in a second. You nod quickly, smiling widely as he places it on your hand and squealing as you jump into his arms.

“I love you, so much.” You whisper whole-heartedly.

August 2021, the surprise

“Oh! Harry where are we going?” You giggle out, following him inside one of your houses together. It’s dark, the dim light reflection from the moon settles in the living room—you gasp out when you see a box full of animal toys and a few other accessories. “What..what is this?”

He gives you a lazy smirk, walking to the side for a moment to grab a cardboard box. You furrow your brows trying to take a peak at the box but he laughs a hides it away, until you hear a small sound emit from the box.

“Harry..you didn’t,” you gasp out in shock, awe and just a mix of many different feelings.

He nods, placing the box down in the wooden floor and he’s about to open it but a small paw peaks out—followed by a quiet ‘meow’ as a little kitten struggles to climb out of the box. “Surprise lovie.”

You let out a breath, getting down onto your knees and opening the lid and immediately tearing up at the sight of the animal. “Oh my god! You’re so precious..hi sweetheart!” You say softly, taking the kitten out. “Is it a girl?” He nods and you smile widely, cooing as she leans into your touch.

You stand up after placing her down, watching as she waddles around the new area with a curious sniff. You smile at Harry lovingly, his arms coming to wraps themselves around your shoulders—love and adoration shared within the room. He kisses you softly, smiling into it. “Do ‘ye like her?” He asks with his soft eyes.

“I love her..just as I love you.” Your hand caresses your boyfriends cheek and he smiles widely.

“I love you too y/n.”

Present time

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts you haven’t realised the shows over, until a security guards hand is guiding you backstage where Harry is waiting patiently for all of you.

“Oh..he did so well, I’m so proud of him.” Anne says, still in shock with tears rolling down her cheeks. You smile at her softly, stroking her hand as Gemma holds one of your own.

“We all are,” Gemma says wholeheartedly, eyes also glistening. You look forward with awaiting eyes when the three of you stand together backstage. Harry emits slowly, his face still damp with tears from one of the greatest moments of his life, but he still looks nervous?

Anne let’s out a sob-laugh before jogging into his open arms, he kisses his face repeatedly as he laughs lightly. “Oh my boy I’m so, so proud of you!” He’s out of his outfit now, dressed slightly more fancy in black slacks and a white button up; the top few buttons undone to reveal his chest.

Why hasn’t he changed into his regular comfy clothes?

“Thanks mum.” He breathes out in the midst of her tight hold, Gemma soon joins the hug and you grin at the family. His eyes meet yours over their shoulders and they tell you everything you need to know, they pull themselves away so you’re able to run into his arms with a happy sigh. “Hi lovie.”

“Hi baby, you did so well out there—I’m so proud of you.” You whisper into his neck, pulling away so you’re able to angle your neck just right to give him a small kiss.

“Thank you..will you take a walk with me?” He asks, a shaky breath following his words, which makes you frown with concern. You nod, stealing a glance at his family and friends who all have a knowing look on their face.

After walking for at least twenty minutes, security with you for the most part as they have only just finished the show, you reach a small secluded path that’s lit up with multiple candles and fairy lights. The hue of the sunset is hitting his face perfectly, making him look like an Angel in disguise.

You giggle softly, Harry’s arm tightening on you when you almost trip over, “Harry, where are we going?” Though he doesn’t answer, you gasp out-loud when you reach the end. Flower petals lining the floor, a few pictures of you both from all the moments you’ve had together decorating the railing. “Oh..this is, Harry what is this?”

You then turn around expecting him to be stood there where he was but you get a whole different view. He’s kneeling..on one knee.

Your hands come up to cup your mouth in shock, unable to say anything when he reaches into his back pocket and pulling out a small black, velvet box.

“Y/n L/n..I love you so much I can’t put it into words, if I even just began to talk about how much you mean to me and what makes you, you..then we’d be here forever,” he speaks with a shaky breath and looks down quickly with a light laugh before looking back up to you—his eyes glistening along with yours.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you, I don’t think I’d be able to survive without you,” he pauses for a moment, anxiety still clear in his movements, “will..will you marry me?”

You suck in a deep breath, tears falling as you stutter out words. Looking into his hopeful eyes full of love you nod slowly, humming, “yes, yes of course I will!” A breathy laugh, tears and a small squeal coming from you when he gently slides the ring onto your finger. You jump into his arms, both of you whispering small affirmations to each other.

“Y/n Styles..has a ring to it right?” He says breathily after placing you back onto your feet, a lazy grin on his lips. You nod, kissing him deeply which he quickly responds to. “I love ‘ye, so much.”

“I love you too, Mr styles.”

—

Harry for As It Was!!!

You’ve written this so beautifully omg I love it !! Soo soo cute and just perfect 🥺💗💗🌟

make you feel my love

as always, any feedback or comments would be greatly appreciated, along with a reblog to share it <3

word count: 2k | masterlist

He took you to Italy like he promised. Wined and dined you at the best restaurants like he said he would, even if you might have been there before. Left you speechless and breathless underneath him every single night like he did best. Took you on hikes, bought you flowers at the local farmer’s market, danced with you in the middle of the streets..

Unashamedly made you his fiancé. Yeah, that had a nice ring to it. 

But before he dropped down on one knee, he had you waiting on the edge of your seat. It had been two weeks since he brought up the idea of being with you forever. You were just waiting for the shoe to drop.

Keep reading

Love this !!! 💗

omg could u do yasmin wijnaldum for an ig post, xxxx

wembley shows blurb! not my best but i hope you like it <3

IF YOU LIKE WHAT I POST CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME

ask me anything | masterlist | don’t forget to reblog!

liked by kaiagerber, harrystyles and 367,836 others

yourinstagram don’t let my face fool you, i’m losing my mind over my boyfriend playing wembley tonight

view all 29,736 comments

harryfan1 same here, but he’s not my boyfriend

kaiagerber 😍😍

ynfan1 GORGEOUS

harrystyles Photo creds x

↳ yourinstagram i already showed you off enough, piss off

↳ harryfan2 i love them 😂😂

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,098 others

harryandyn YN vía instagram stories !

view all 764 comments

harryfan1 she’s the cutest

harryfan2 she was risking her life on kitchen pit bless her

ynfan1 face card never declines

ynfan2 her giving it all during wmyb was so iconic

liked by gracieabrams, yourinstagram and 2,740,638 other

harrystyles Love On Tour. London I. June, 2022.

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harryfan1 AHHH BABY

harryfan2 best show ever

yourinstagram SO PROUD OF YOU LOVIE ❤️

↳ ynfan1 she’s so whipped

harris_reed You truly shined last night.

liked by harrystyles, bellahadid and 381,927 others

yourinstagram pulling up to wembley night two like

view all 28,937 comments

harryfan1 an icon

ynfan1 slayyy

niallhoran See you there 🤠

↳ narryfan1 OMG HES GOING

↳ ynfan2 BESTIESSSS

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 4,084 others

harryandyn YN via instagram stories ! She was with Niall during the show

view all 802 comments

harryfan1 AHHH NIALL

ynfan1 niall - yn - harry is my favorite trio

harryfan2 IM IN HER STORY OMGGG

ynfan2 she loves harry fans

liked by yourinstagram, jefezoff and 2,724,663 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. London II. June, 2022.

view all 86,038 comments

harryfan1 SO PROUD OF YOU

annetwist ❤️❤️

yourinstagram look at you all rockstar-y

yourinstagram i love you

↳ ynfan1 she’s a softie

↳ harrystyles Loveee youuuu xx

↳ harryfan2 HARRYYYY😭😭

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @maria-r @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @evanjh @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @lollypopsx @multiplums @89evrs  @piscesrecord @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ivegotparticulartaste @springholland @harryhoney-bee @harrysgloves @ayeshathestyles @comfort-reads @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @sleutherclaw @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden

I LOVE THIS 🤍🤍

Can you do an Instagram concept with Gracie abrams as the fc

you guys requested this and i just HAD to do it !! i picked gracie because she’s a swiftie !!

swifties over here, did you listen to red tv ?? what are your thoughts ?? tell meee

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by pillowpersonpp, harrystyles and 72,530 others

yourinstagram have you streamed wildest dreams (taylor’s version) today ?

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harryfan1 BESTIEEE YOU’RE SO PRETTY

gemmastyles oh i have

↳ yourinstagram THATS WHY YOU’RE THE BETTER STYLES

↳ harryfan2 is harry refusing to stream bestie ??

↳ yourinstagram he claims that “i’ve played it way too much”

pillowpersonpp my baby 💖

↳ yourinstagram mother sarah i love you

liked by harryfan1, yourinstagram and 3,639 others

harryupdates “Folklore or Evermore? I’m not sure honestly, I think my girlfriend can give you a better answer for that one, she’s a huge Taylor Swift fan!” Harry reading a fan’s sign

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harryfan1 OMG THAT WAS ICONIC

harryfan2 OKAY BUT FOLKLORE OR EVERMORE ? @yourinstagram

↳ harryfan1 SPILL SISTER COME ON @yourinstagram

↳ yourinstagram FOLKLORE

↳ harryfan3 TASTE OMG

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 72,539 others

yourinstagram RED SEASON MEANS RED LIPSTICK ❤️🧣 i love you mom @taylorswift

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harryfan1 RED TAYLORS VERSION IS COMING

jefezoff Are we going to have the album on repeat during all the trips?

↳ yourinstagram WE SOOO ARE JEFFREYYYY

harryfan2 OKAY BUT THE ALL TOO WELL SHORT FILM

↳ yourinstagram no you don’t understand sadie, dylan and taylor IM NOT READY

harrystyles I don’t know about you…

↳ yourinstagram BUT IM FEELING 22 EVERYONE IS READY FOR RED TV IN THIS HOUSE

↳ harryfan2 HARRY OMG 😭

liked by yourinstagram, jenniferaniston and 7,438,927 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Portland, OR.

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harryfan1 ARE YOU KIDDING

gemmastyles Why that face?

↳ yourinstagram i might or might not have something to do with that

↳ harryfan2 i bet she was blasting taylor music

yourinstagram wreck my plans that’s myyyy mannnn🥰

↳ harryfan3 WILLOW FOR LIFE

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 74,389 others

yourinstagram CURRENT SITUATION: listening to red (taylor’s version) and eating my pasta while my bf takes pics LIFE CAN’T GET ANY BETTER 🧣

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harryfan1 RED PAJAMAS AND ALL

↳ yourinstagram dressed for the occasion

annetwist ❤️❤️

harryfan2 is harry enjoying the album? 😂

↳ yourinstagram your fave is obligated to enjoy all of taylor swift’s albums, otherwise we’re breaking up

harryfan3 FAVORITE SONG?

↳ yourinstagram HOLY GROUND

part 2

taglist: @lollypopsx @cucciolafaerie @jelliebeanss s @maria-r @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @vodka-is-gay-and-so-am-i @alienorknight @evanjh @pilgrim-harry @handsomerry @sunflowervolume66