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softonstyles · 8 days ago

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Part Sixteen

CONTENT WARNING: Smut

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: happy first day of summer, lovers! the 's' in summer stands for smut or something like that 🥰

Part Fifteen

If you had asked her only moments ago, Aurora would have answered that her favorite version of Harry was the sure one.

There was nothing more entrancing than when he moved with intention, especially when it pertained to her. She loved the certainty in him, when he led without hesitation because he already knew. Knew her moods, her boundaries, her desires. Aurora understood why he hesitated at times — their situation was anything but simple — and maybe one day, she would look back and appreciate his caution.

But not tonight.

Not with Harry’s mouth branding a trail of heat down her neck, his hands taking their time as they claimed every inch of her — like she was already his, and always had been.

Tonight, her favorite version of Harry was the determined one.

The one who moved with intention.

The one who knew exactly what he was doing.

Especially when it pertained to her.

He had lifted her off the barstool without missing a step, carrying her through the house like a man possessed — kissing the bow in her mouth, the sensitive curve of her throat — as if even the smallest distance between them was unbearable.

Now she lay beneath him, tangled in her sheets and in him; hair fanned across the pillow, chest rising and falling, lips parted and kiss-bruised. Her skin incinerated with the aftershock of his touch, every nerve alive. And when Aurora looked down, what she saw made her breath catch in her throat.

Harry knelt between her legs, just staring.

His pupils were blown wide, darkened by a slow, burning heat. She traced the sharp green in his eyes, drawn in by the way they held her — reverent and ravenous — like he wanted to worship and ruin her all at once.

And in them, she saw every unspoken promise, every threat, and believed them all.

A fragile sound left her, breaking their spell.

He was on her at once, his mouth brushing over her skin, voice a rasp against her cheek.

“Do you —” kiss, “have any idea —” kiss, “what you do to me?”

Aurora shivered as his mouth drifted lower, curls brushing against her collarbone and hands teasing the edge of her neckline. She momentarily praised her decision to wear something more daring tonight, but that thought dissolved the moment Harry’s teeth grazed along her skin — and then slid his large hands up to cup her breasts through the tight corset.

“You were trying to kill me, wearing this. Knowing every set of eyes would be on you.”

A breathless laugh escaped her as she drank in his words, this moment. She was starting to get a kick out of this raw, possessive side that only surfaced when no one else was around.

“Maybe. But I only wanted you to take it off.”

“That’s right,” he nipped at her skin and she whimpered. “Only me.”

“Only you.”

Harry made quick work of her corset, his fingers confident — efficient, even. Likely a personal best, not that Aurora was in any state to tease (or scold) him for it. She had made the executive decision to forgo a bra, and the second he realized, something in his expression darkened. His eyes sparkled with wicked intent before he pounced over her again, this time taking a nipple into his mouth.

There were moments when she felt self-conscious about her breasts — wishing they were just a little fuller — but wrapped in the way he touched her now, she had never felt more desired. The way his lips moved like a prayer, savoring every inch of her — licking, sucking, gently biting — made her feel like she was made for him, like he couldn’t possibly get enough of her. When his lips left one breast, his warm hand took over, claiming her as his own.

She gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he responded with a rough buck of his hips against hers.

“Fucking hell, kitten,” Harry groaned, the endearment rising from his throat like it physically pained him. “You’re even more beautiful than I ever let myself imagine.”

Then he ever let himself imagine?

The thought struck her like a spark, igniting something deep within. Had he really conjured her up the way she had him, again and again, in the hush of intimate, depraved moments she had never dared speak aloud?

The way his mouth roamed hungrily over her skin left no room for doubt.

“You really have no idea, do you? How many nights I’ve laid awake, aching — so hard it would hurt — fisting myself to the thought of you.” His voice was a low growl, thick with lust. “Wishing it was your hand instead. Your mouth. Your cunt.”

His lips moved lower — rougher now, almost punishing. “Want to hear something filthy?”

She nodded without hesitation, unashamed.

Harry’s smile turned wolfish at her eagerness and he continued. “Sometimes I would even do it here. Touched myself in the room you’re now sleeping in.” He paused, allowing his words to settle between them.

Then, in a whisper, “When Charlotte would visit, I’d have to sneak away — find a place quiet enough so she wouldn’t hear me coming undone over her best friend.”

It was obscene how much his words turned her on. The filthy casualness of them sent heat curling low in her belly, dark and undeniable. As Harry dragged her zipper down with slow, teasing hands, a single thought flickered through Aurora’s mind: she was going straight to hell for this.

But then he looked at her with that primal, sensual intensity, and all at once, damnation felt like a small price to pay. Anyone else in her position would understand.

They would risk it all, too.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, voice rough with need as his finger traced slowly over the damp fabric between her thighs, pressing just hard enough to pull a gasp from her lips. He paused at her entrance, the heat of his touch making her pulse there. “Filthy little thing. You love this, don’t you? Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted to you.”

“And you’re wearing too much.” She pushed up from where she was laying down, fingers working quickly to peel his shirt away. That first touch was gasoline to the fire already smoldering between them.

He was a masterpiece of strength and precision; all carved lines and taut muscle, shadows catching on every ridge. Her eyes lingered on the inked butterfly spread across his torso, then traced lower — following the soft trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband — right to the thick, unmistakable bulge pressing against his briefs.

She loved how perfectly they fit together — skin to skin, bare chests pressed close, heartbeats pounding in tandem. Harry had been ready to devour her, but the moment she melted into his arms, he slowed, as if he instinctively knew what she needed: connection as much as desire.

His arms tightened around her waist, holding her exactly where he wanted her. Their mouths moved in sync, a kiss that was deep as it was messy. Everything about this — his touch, his breath, the way he tasted — was overwhelming her senses in the most intoxicating way.

Harry eased back just slightly, resting his forehead against hers as they breathed each other in for an intimate moment. Aurora glanced down between them, at where they were pressed against each other, and felt her cheeks flush deeper. Her chest rose and fell, breasts heavy and aching from his attention. A soft sheen of sweat clung to their skin, catching the moonlight that slipped through the curtains in a silvery glow. His hand slowly drifted along her spine; a soothing, possessive stroke that made her eyes flutter shut.

He was savoring this, too. She could feel it.

And then she saw the marks — faint bruises on her hips, his neck. Red where nails had dug, teeth had scraped. Evidence of everything only they had given each other. She would have to cover them tomorrow, she knew. Paint over the truth of this with concealer and a forced smile. It would hurt her deeply, more than it probably should, because the deranged truth was that she wanted to wear them proudly — every mark, every bruise.

She wanted the whole world to know who she belonged to.

Him.

God, she wanted him.

A flood of feeling tore through her as she deepened the kiss. Desire rose first, raw and aching, fueled by the low sounds Harry let slip against her mouth. The need to have him, to feel every part of him, pulsed through her like electricity.

But as his hands gently pressed her back into the pillows, his gaze locked on hers and something else stirred just beneath the heat. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. His eyes asked the question — are you sure? — and somehow she understood it, the way she always had with him.

And there it was. The feeling that had always lingered beneath the want.

Love.

Real and full and impossible to ignore.

She hadn’t let herself face it before, but now it gripped her chest and refused to let go.

“Harry. . .” she breathed, voice cracking open.

“I know, sweet girl,” he murmured, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to her lips. “I feel it too.”

That undid her.

Aurora wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him down until he was flush against her, their mouths moving over each other in something frantic and tender all at once. No matter how many times they would kiss tonight, it would never be enough. She would never, could never, get enough of him.

Harry ground his hips against hers, the friction deliciously cruel, then slid his hand back down to her wet folds. He moaned into her mouth as his fingers found her again, slick and throbbing, and slowly pulled her panties the rest of the way down. She lifted her hips without a second thought, needing him too badly to care about anything else.

His fingers caressed along her slit with agonizing leisure, stroking her open and smearing her arousal with every teasing pass. With a sinful grin, he brought his coated fingers up between them, letting her see.

“Look at this,” he teased. “You’re dripping for me, baby. This what I do to you? Get you this wet just from kissing you?”

A choked whimper escaped her lips, her body arching instinctively toward his. Now wasn’t the time for games — she was seconds away from begging.

“Yes, Harry,” she moaned. “Touch me, please, I need you.”

“I already am, kitten.”

Before she could respond, his hand slid back down, deceptively gentle — until he landed a sharp slap between her thighs. The sudden friction against her clit made her gasp, her whole body jolting as her pussy throbbed in response.

She cried out, the pleasure rolling through her in hot waves. “Oh my God, Harry!”

“Don’t you feel me?” His fingers traced through her lips, slow and unrelenting. “Didn’t you say I make you feel good?”

“You do — agh — I just need more.”

“Good.” He stroked over her again, this time grazing her clit with just enough pressure to make her hips buck again. But then he stopped, voice dropping with it. “Then don’t disrespect me by acting like I’m not already giving it to you.”

Fuck.

He had never spoken to her like that, never taken on this commanding tone. But God, did it set her on fire. Harry had always been gentle, careful. . . but this edge? This control? She wanted to chase it.

With a dangerous glint in her eye, Aurora tilted her head and murmured, “I mean. . . all this touching and you still haven’t fucked me yet.”

A challenge.

She watched the flare of heat in his eyes — and knew she would get exactly what she asked for, and then some.

Harry smirked, catching on to her little game. “Patience is a virtue, kitten.”

Another sharp slap landed against her soaked cunt — harder this time, more deliberate — and she nearly came undone, her body jerking in response, a strangled moan catching in her throat. Her clit throbbed, hypersensitive, and he rewarded her with a slow, almost lazy stroke of his finger across it, just enough to tease. The contrast — his callused heat, the cool brush of his rings against her flushed skin — was maddening. She couldn’t stop trembling beneath him.

“. . . How many?”

Her head lolled slightly. “W-what?”

“Pay attention, Aurora.” His voice was stern, but that menacing curl of his lips gave him away. He loved watching her fall apart, loved that he was the one doing it to her. “I asked how many nights you went to bed with your ego bruised.”

“What are you talking about?”

His fingers left her clit and the sudden absence made her whimper. Before the sound had even faded, that same hand was at her throat — light, possessive, and slick with her arousal. He wrapped his fingers around the base of her neck, thumb resting just below her jaw, a gentle reminder of who was in control. Then he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Earlier, you said you spent nights here with your ego bruised. Frustrated. Unsatisfied.” His voice was velvet over steel. “How many?”

He shifted again, curls brushing against her cheek as he dragged his tongue slowly across the column of her neck — tasting her on her own skin. The sheer filth of it made her moan, hips rocking up against his aching hardness that rested between them. He was holding back, she could feel it in the way his whole body tensed.

Aurora could barely breathe. “S-since I’ve been here? Two. . . two nights.”

“Then you’ll come twice.”

He slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of her before pulling them out. Then, without warning, he plunged them inside her, slow but deep, filling her so thoroughly she cried out. Her back arched, but he firmly pressed her back down with his other hand.

“You’ll take me,” he growled, eyes locked on hers.

He moved inside her with long, pleasureful strokes, curling his fingers just so — and it was sinful, the way her body reacted, how easily she opened for him. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel once it was his cock, and not his fingers, stretching her open instead. When his thumb found her clit and began those slow, devastating circles, her body writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

His mouth returned to her breasts with a kind of filthy devotion, lavishing the tender curves with open-mouthed kisses before scraping his teeth over her swollen nipples. He tugged with just enough force to make her cry out, then paused to watch — eyes dark with hunger — as the mocha peaks bounced back into place.

Aurora was teetering on the edge. Every nerve in her body reverberated, stretched thin with pleasure. The steady thrust of his fingers, the searing heat of his mouth, the scent of sex and sweat clinging to their skin — it was too much and not nearly enough — her body strung tight and aching for release.

“Harry,” she breathed, “I’m — I’m so close.”

As if the sound of her unraveling flipped a switch inside him, something primal took over.

He plunged deeper, never once breaking his pace. His mouth crashed over hers, devouring her with breathless urgency — all teeth and tongue. She kissed him back just as fiercely, hips rising to meet the relentless thrust of his fingers, moans tangling like their bodies in the dark.

“H-Harry —”

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he whispered against her lips. “Always right here.”

That unraveled her.

Her orgasm tore through her — a blinding wave that stole her breath and curled her toes. Her head tipped back as a cry escaped her throat, eyes shut tight as her body clenched around his hand. And still, he didn’t stop — just slowed his movements, coaxing every last tremor from her with whispered praise against her damp skin, anchoring her as she came undone. Stars burst behind her eyelids, and she let herself fall, completely his.

And then he was gone.

Just for a moment — before reappearing lower.

Much lower.

His mouth found her again, this time between her thighs, and the contact was so sudden, so devastating, she let out a gasp in surprise. Her hands flew into his hair, fingers trembling as they sank into the dark curls. She didn’t know whether she meant to push him away or drag him deeper — all she knew was that she needed to hold on.

“Harry, I-I don’t know if I can —”

“You can,” he groaned, voice thick with promise. “You can and you will.”

He began with delicate kisses — slow, savoring — as if tasting something rare, something forbidden. His nose and lips grazed her soaked folds with worshipful care, nuzzling into her like she was his to feast upon.

“So fucking pretty,” he breathed, gaze never leaving hers. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Then he kissed her deeper, and his tongue dragged up her slit in one long, aching stroke that made her moan — legs trembling, body arching.

“Mmfh, Harry —”

“Can’t believe this is all mine,” he ignored her plea in favor of grazing his tongue just where she needed it most. “Only mine. Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

And ruin her he did.

His tongue slid deep inside her, every stroke purposeful, dragging slow and decadent along her walls. Velvet-slick and devastatingly precise, he worked her with practiced cruelty, each flick pulling her closer to the edge. He moved like a man who had studied her, memorized her, and now intended to savor the process of unraveling her completely.

“I need you —” she whimpered, one hand fisting in his hair, the other sliding up her own body to squeeze her breast, thumb circling her nipple, “— inside me, now.”

Between her thighs, he looked up — eyes feral, blown wide with hunger — and released a guttural sound at the sight of her. She was a vision of chaos and need, and he was completely undone by it.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “If you could see yourself right now. . . my filthy, gorgeous girl. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Y-yes —” She barely got the word out, voice trembling.

“Tell me something, kitten,” he murmured, breath ghosting over her swollen flesh. “What makes you think you’ve earned daddy’s cock?”

Then came his bite — sharp and deliberate — and it lit her nerves on fire. She arched off the bed with a strangled gasp, the sound ripped straight from somewhere deep and helpless.

“FUCK!”

He let out a low wicked laugh, the sound rumbling through her like thunder. He loved this. Every whimper she gave, every twitch, every shattered sound. And he wasn’t done. Not even close.

But then —

A faint click.

Everything stilled. His laughter faded mid-breath, and the heat between them froze, suspended like smoke in the air. The outside world crept in through the silence, threatening to shatter the bubble they had built. From beyond the door, Aurora heard Charlotte’s voice. It was gentle and lilting, clearly in shush-mode. A low, masculine murmur followed. Ben.

Footsteps padded toward the kitchen, and a sliver of warm light spilled beneath the doorframe, stretching across the bedroom floor like a spotlight cast directly on their sin.

She twisted toward Harry, panic flaring in her chest — and of course, he was already watching her.

But he appeared to be unbothered.

Infuriatingly smug.

His eyes glittered like they belonged to a teenager caught in the act, high on the danger of it all. The bastard was biting his bottom lip, barely containing his laughter.

Aurora slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the startled sound rising in her throat. The absurdity of it all — of them, tangled in sheets while Charlotte stood just feet away — should have ruined the moment.

Instead, it ignited something wicked in her.

In both of them.

When her muffled giggle slipped free, Harry finally broke, burying his face in her thigh as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. His curls grazed her skin, brushing right where she was still aching for him.

And just like that, the heat between her legs flared back to life.

Her laughter caught in her throat, replaced by a low, needy moan. Because while the moment was absurd, her desire was still very real. Still pulsing between her legs like a live wire, especially when his warm breath ghosted over her skin.

Harry looked up then, and gone was the teasing gleam in his eye — replaced by something darker, more feral.

“Harry —”

But his hands caught her — firm, possessive — and spread her thighs with ease.

“You can’t,” she hissed.

“But I already am.” He leaned in, trailing slow, lingering kisses up the inside of her thigh. “I told you I would give you two tonight, and I’m a man of my word.”

Her breath hitched the moment his mouth found her again, as if he had never left. His tongue moved with sinful precision, lips coaxing pleasure from her with devastating softness. In the distance, Charlotte’s voice drifted in from the kitchen, muffled but unmistakable. Aurora fought to think, to cling to reason. Hadn’t Charlotte said she would be staying out tonight? Then why the hell was she —

“Eyes on me,” Harry growled against her, punctuating the order with a sharp nip to her clit.

“Ah! —”

That sound ignited something deep in him. His hold on her waist tightened, locking her in place — and then he was on her, ravenous and unyielding, tongue plunging in and out of her like a man who hadn’t tasted anything in days.

“Oh, I think Aurora’s still awake. . .”

Fuck.

Footsteps padded closer. The chill of panic raced through her veins, clashing with the molten pleasure between her thighs. Her eyes flew to the door, heart slamming against her ribcage.

Harry didn’t flinch.

Didn’t lift his head.

Didn’t so much as pause.

He was buried in her like nothing else existed — like her pleasure was his only mission and his daughter on the other side of the wall was just white noise.

“Aurora?” Charlotte’s voice came, followed by a gentle knock. “You up?”

Her brain short-circuited.

Every nerve screamed don’t stop, but her thoughts were spiraling. The door was locked, thank God, but Charlotte didn’t seem to be going anywhere. She turned to Harry in desperation, searching for help (or mercy).

But he didn’t even glance up.

Instead, he licked into her again, and then pulled back just enough to murmur, “Answer her.”

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, inhaled a shaky breath, and lifted her head off the pillow. “Y-yes?”

“Oh,” Charlotte said softly, clearly surprised. “Did we wake you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Below, Harry feasted on her as if she were his last meal. His tongue curled deep, lips gentle and reverent, fingers gripping her thighs to keep her spread just for him. The fucking devil. She glanced down and shot him a murderous look, her glare burning with frustration, disbelief — and want.

He. Didn’t. Stop.

Of course he didn’t stop.

Charlotte was right outside the door, and Harry still had his tongue buried in her, sinning without hesitation. But if Harry was the devil, what did that make her? A willing disciple? A wicked muse? Or maybe just someone who got off on how dangerous this all was — how recklessly close they were to being caught in the flames.

“Sorry about that,” Charlotte murmured, voice muffled by the door. “Ben forgot his keys, and his roommate wasn’t home, so. . . but hey — how did it go with Kyle? He seemed really into you.”

Aurora opened her mouth, but before she could form a single word, Harry growled against her drenched folds — a sound dripping with dark, dangerous ownership. Then he pushed two fingers into her.

The message was clear, even unspoken: mine.

There was no teasing left in him. No trace of playfulness. Only raw, unyielding hunger. He knew exactly what she craved — not tenderness, not a slow burn. She was already dripping for him, trembling on the edge and desperate to be pushed over. He sealed his mouth around her clit and sucked; firm and focused, until the pleasure inside her shattered. Her spine bowed off the bed, a broken gasp tearing from her lips before she could catch it.

“Fuck! —”

For a brief moment, there was only silence on the other side of the door. Aurora lay trembling, chest heaving, the aftershocks wracking through her. Shame licked at the edges of her pleasure, but it didn’t dull it. Not even a little.

Because whatever this was — dangerous, reckless, wrong — it felt too fucking good to stop.

Then, at last: Charlotte’s voice again, slicing through the afterglow.

“Oh my God. You guys fucked, didn’t you?”

Classic Char.

Aurora felt Harry’s shoulders shake with laughter, his mouth still pressed to her sensitized center. She let out a sharp hiss, fingers diving into his hair to yank — and not gently. This was not the moment for cocky amusement.

Still, the groan he let out made her thighs clench all over again. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He was soothing her with every slow, reverent stroke of his tongue, like he couldn’t bear to part from her body just yet. And honestly, she didn’t want him to.

“Uh, no. I-I’ll tell you more tomorrow, Char.” Aurora called out, voice thin and frayed.

A pause. She could practically hear the smirk curling on her best friend’s lips. “Mhm. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was in there with you right now.”

Harry froze, mouth halting mid-kiss. Their eyes met — wide and horrified.

Fortunately, Charlotte burst into laughter. “Just kidding. Okay, well — goodnight, Biggie.”

As her and Ben’s footsteps disappeared up the stairs, Aurora finally let herself breathe, the tension draining from her limbs. Harry lifted his head and moved up, collapsing beside her, all that wild hunger now tamed into soft concern.

“You okay, baby?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple — no longer the devil on his knees, but the man who worshipped her.

Aurora exhaled shakily, her pulse still racing. “That was. . .” She trailed off, searching for words. “A lot. You made me feel so good, Harry.”

His smile turned gentle, all mischief melting into something far deeper. She pulled him closer, one hand slipping around the back of his neck, the other drifting lower, fingertips tracing the hard line of him through his pants.

“And you?” She whispered, lips brushing his. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

Harry arched a brow, eyes gleaming with something dark and delicious. “Who says you didn’t?”

Right as her hand cupped the thick, wet outline in his pants, she felt her stomach tighten all over again.

He’d come.

Without her even properly touching him. Just from being between her legs, from tasting her.

“Besides,” he leaned in, “when I finally have you, I want us to be completely alone.”

Another shiver.

She watched him disappear into the bathroom, only to return moments later with a warm, damp cloth. He didn’t speak, just moved between her legs again with that same deliberate care. Every pass was gentle, like he was still touching something sacred.

Aurora reached for him, her fingers curling softly around his wrist. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

His eyes warmed, the sharp edges melting into something achingly tender. He turned her hand over and brought her wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin there. “It was my pleasure,” he replied, voice like silk. “Truly.”

Then he rose, tossing the cloth into the trash bin — the same bin where the cotton pads he’d used to take off her makeup sat. He couldn’t stay. They both knew it. Not with Charlotte just upstairs. But the emptiness that crept in as he pulled away was impossible to ignore.

“Just remember,” he said over his shoulder, teasing, “that didn’t count as a substitute for peeing after.”

Aurora groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “God, I hate that you know that.”

His laugh — low and rough — warmed her from the inside out as he crossed the room again, bracing his arms on either side of her.

Harry didn’t speak right away. He just looked at her, really looked at her, like she was something rare he had always been searching for.

Then he tipped her chin up and kissed her, soft and slow.

“I think every moment before you,” he breathed out against her lips, “was meant to be practice, so that when you finally came along, I would know how to get it right.”

Tag List (thank you all for tuning in - please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from this list):

@fangirl509east @saraxoxo12567 @kyle-xian @mellamolayla @gem1712 @br3akfestattiffanys @amazinglystyles @harryyloverrr @batmanwoman8 @cherrywinerare @hannah9921 @xoxmatilda @femalestyles @boom-shaka-la @mrswidowjohansson @gigglingstyles @tobegoodisgood @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @hoiyrings @dakotas-trash @musicforastylesrestaurant @chelsohhh @eversinceharryx @harry2121

#best friends dad harry #bfd!harry #dad harry #dadrry #forbidden romance #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles romance #older!harry #romance #slow burn romance #softonstyles #smut

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softonstyles · 8 days ago

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Part 15 has been going a bit insane rn! Another cliffhanger but this one is too good🙂‍↕️

I’m so glad that Aurora stuck up for herself a bit! He really is giving mixed signals with wanting to talk to her yet always being the one to decide for the both of them! Though him opening up about the immediate effect he had on her… my heart immediately felt so 🥺 he’s been obsessed with her from the moment they met😭 it’s was such a nice way to see through his pov on how that day went and honestly if I was Aurora I would declare my love fr 🤭

WE GOT ANOTHER KISS YAYYYYY! And he’s a bitter 😵‍💫!!!! Him asking where he could kiss more of her😵‍💫 CRAZY AND I LOVE HIM!!!

Loved this chapter deeply! So excited for what’s to come of them especially since Charlotte is spending the night away 👀 -🦋🪽

hihi darling! <3

LOL right? it's like, i understand her frustration, but after his profession of. . . love? care? . . . how could you still be upset 🙈

hehehe, i'm happy to announce that i'm about to release part sixteen now, and there will be A LOT MORE than just kissing and biting 😘

thank you so much for your sweet message! i hope this next one makes you proud 💖

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softonstyles · 14 days ago

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Part Fifteen

Part Fourteen

Word Count: 3K

A/N: heard tomorrow was father's day 🙈

Aurora was pissed — though she hadn’t started out that way.

She had come home from a good night out with friends feeling lighter, grateful for the distraction and ready to unwind. But then Harry had shown up; tension rolling off him in waves, derailing everything in the maddening way only he could, before driving away without so much as an explanation. As if she had done something wrong — not him.

Now, inside the house, she moved through a haze of confusion, trying to make sense of it. Aurora wasn’t entirely clueless; it was obvious he hadn’t been fond of finding her alone with Kyle, but what she couldn’t wrap her head around was why he cared. He made it abundantly clear that, despite whatever existed between them, nothing could ever come from it.

And yet here she was, sitting on the couch and waiting for him — just as he had asked.

It started as curiosity. Then confusion. And now?

Pure frustration.

Because, what could he even want to talk about? What would even be the point, if he had no intention of allowing the dynamic between them to change? Was he hoping for another one of their charged conversations — all smoke, no heat— only to leave things unresolved again? She had gone to bed aching and unsatisfied more than once, thank you very much, and she would rather go without a third.

The longer she waited, the more her frustration grew. And it wasn’t even solely at him (though his relentless wavering was enough to drive anyone mad), but more so at herself. For staying, and foolishly hoping. For surrendering control to someone when she had worked hard in her life to call the shots. Harry had the ability to unravel her in ways no one else ever had, and that — more than his indecision — was what truly set her on fire.

She stood, ready to put an end to what had been one of the longest nights in her life, when the front door creaked open and Harry stepped inside. Even in the dim light, she saw the weight on his face. The warm, charming, and impossible man she cared for seemed to be replaced with someone quieter. More somber.

When Harry looked up and found her standing in the living room, he let out a deep exhale; a flicker of relief moving past his features as he gently closed the door behind him.

“Hi there,” he said softly, almost tentatively.

And just like that, some of the heat in her chest dissipated.

Almost.

“Hi.” Her tone was clipped; not quite how she intended it, but not entirely unearned. She didn’t want to be angry, but what choice had he given her?

“You waited up for me,” Harry said as he took off his jacket, eyes never leaving her. “Thank you.”

Aurora crossed her arms, signaling the distance she wanted to keep between them. She didn’t sit back down, but she didn’t walk away either. “Sure.”

He studied her, likely gauging just how deep he was in it. “I just wanted to check on you,” he said. “You left before everyone else,” grimacing, he added, “well, almost everyone.”

“Everything was fine,” she nodded. “The rest of the group was heading to another bar, but I was tired. Charlotte’s staying at Be—” she coughed, catching herself, “—Marilyn’s tonight, and Kyle offered to go back with me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

He caught the slip, she saw it in the twitch of his mouth, but chose not to comment.

“Right.” He said, folding his hands in front of him. “That was nice of him to do. Ryle’s a good kid, his family moved to the neighborhood a few years back.”

Her eyebrows lifted. Was that a jab? Harry had said Kyle’s name correctly in the car, she knew he remembered.

“Yeah,” she replied sharply. “Kyle’s great. And it was so thoughtful of you to interrupt our conversation and take him home.”

“Oh, that? That was nothing,” Harry said with a grin, feigning innocence as his eyes dropped to the floor. “And Kyle, Ryle — close enough.”

“One’s a guy,” she shot back, “and the other’s a crocodile.”

He laughed, and she hated how much she wanted to smile. Hated how good he still looked, no matter how much he had gotten under her skin. He wasn’t even wearing the same clothes from that morning, which meant he had gone home to change. And somewhere deep within her, unwelcome thoughts stirred — who exactly had he gotten dressed for?

“Katy seems nice,” Aurora said, tone cool and even.

His laughter slowly dissipated. He looked at her, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “She is. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“Oh.”

“I was the best man at her wedding. To her wife, Ashanti.”

Oh.

“Nice,” she said, nodding like it was nothing, even as relief spread through her chest.

He stepped toward her slowly, and her stomach pulled tight. His gaze traced over her — not crude, just lingering — with a quiet heat that made her skin prickle.

“Very nice,” he agreed. The words were simple, harmless on their own, but the way he said them made her pulse quicken.

She didn’t think he was drunk, but there was something different about him tonight — less guarded, like the seams of his usual restraint had come slightly undone. If it were anyone else, that kind of look would have made her shrink back. But with Harry, it was different. She leaned in, wanting his eyes on her.

He stopped in front of her and reached for her right hand. His fingers slid around hers, warm and steady, as his thumb brushed slow, deliberate strokes across the back. “Aurora,” he began, her name soft on his tongue. “Last night was. . . a lot happened last night. Do you want to talk about it?”

She tried to ignore the effect of his touch. “There’s nothing to talk about, Harry.”

“No?” The word lacked his usual teasing lilt. His voice carried the same tension in her chest, like he could feel everything she was and didn’t know where to put it. “If you’re upset,” he went on, “I understand. I do. And I think we should —”

Her anger snapped free, uncoiling in a flash.

“It’s always what you think —” she said, cutting him off, “— what you feel, what you decide, and when you decide it. I just said that I don’t want to talk. Can you respect that?”

Harry winced.

“Of course. Of course I can. I’m sorry.”

And she knew he meant it, that he hadn’t intended to push. That made her feel worse, somehow — like she had struck something soft without meaning to. She pulled her hand back and walked into the kitchen.

Distance. She needed distance.

Behind her, she heard the faint sound of his footsteps following at a respectful distance. She opened the kitchen cabinet with more force than necessary and grabbed a glass, filling it with water just to give herself something to do. The silence between them felt fragile, stretched thin.

She stared down at the marble countertop, letting the cool water settle her. Harry remained by the doorway and said nothing; careful not to intrude on the storm brewing inside her, but unwilling to let her weather it alone.

When she glanced up, his eyes were no longer on her. His eyes were downcast, fingers absently rubbing at his neck. The sight pulled at her, a quiet thread of concern unraveling her frustration.

“You shouldn’t angle your head like that,” she said softly. “It strains your neck and leads to muscle overuse. Do you have a standing desk at work?”

He looked up, surprised. “I don’t, no. Should I?”

“Definitely.” She moved toward the freezer, leaving her half-full glass behind. “It’s one of the main reasons we have so many office workers come in. Bad posture, repetitive strain, poor ergonomics.” She recited it like second nature, the knowledge embedded from her time as a physical therapy aide at the rehabilitation center near her university.

“Good to know,” Harry said. “I’ll order one tonight.”

Aurora turned, ice pack in hand, and crossed back to him. He straightened a little, as if unsure what to expect.

“And here I was,” he said with a crooked smile, looking to fill the silence, “thinking it was just my age.”

She gave a dry laugh and circled behind him. “Here,” she murmured, gently placing the pack on his neck. Then she leaned in, voice low near his ear. “And for the record? Not everything is about your age, Harry.”

She meant to leave right after. But then his hand closed around hers, large and warm.

“Aurora.”

He didn’t let go as he turned toward her, moving close enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. “I know you said you didn’t want to talk, and if that’s still the case, then I’ll respect your decision.” He paused. “But. . . is there any part of you that might be willing to just — hear me out?”

“That depends.” She hesitated, her gaze flicking between his. “I’ve already had my ego bruised two nights in a row, and I’m really not in the mood for a third.”

Sometimes, it was hard for Aurora to speak so openly — especially when it came to him — but there was something about the sincerity in his eyes, the way he held her so gently, that made the words come out easier.

That, and the faint buzz still humming through her system from the drinks she had earlier.

“I understand. And I’m so, so sorry. I really mean that, Aurora. Hurting you was never my intention. If there’s anything I can do to make things between us okay again. . . I want to try. So long as you’ll let me, of course.”

He was being open with her. And genuine.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

Harry let out a breath of relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He reached for her other hand, tentative at first. When she didn’t pull away, he laced his fingers through hers and gently led her toward the kitchen barstool. She perched on the edge, nerves fluttering in her chest as he took the seat beside her. Her mind was racing — not just with what he might say, but with where it all might lead.

“I’m just going to be honest.” Harry said, his voice steady but his eyes searching hers.

“That’s all I want.”

He took a breath. One hand remained clasped in hers, the other resting on the counter like it was keeping him grounded. “The first time I saw you — in that coffee shop — you completely took my breath away. I know that sounds cliche, but it’s the truth. You turned around, and I just — my mind went blank. I’ve never been that speechless in my life. Do you remember? You made a comment about the bundt cake, and I took a long time to respond.”

His gaze was so intense that she had to look away, heat rushing to her cheeks. It was one thing to know that someone found you attractive, but entirely another to hear them say it out loud.

“I stepped aside, planning to ask for your number after you ordered,” he continued. “But you never turned back around. I figured you didn’t want to be bothered, so I let it go. I was nervous and over-thought the whole thing. I normally don’t, but with you. . .”

She looked up, heart pounding. “I didn’t turn around because you made me nervous! It was this weird mix of wanting you to talk to me, and also wanting to sprint out the door.”

A soft curl slipped across her face, and Harry brushed it aside, laughing under his breath. “If someone had told me that four months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. But now? I get it. Completely.”

So much had changed since that day in August.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he said. “The whole morning, I kept thinking about you. And then I saw you again — but this time, you weren’t just a stranger. You were Charlotte’s friend.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for him to continue.

“I would be lying if I said I tried to fight how I felt. Because the truth is — I didn’t. From the very beginning, I knew something had shifted in me. Sure, part of it was physical — I mean, how could it not be? Look at you.”

“But the more I got to know you, the worse it got. Or better. I still don’t know which.” He let his words hang between them before continuing. “You were — are — kind, sharp, thoughtful. There’s a lightness to you, Aurora. And it’s impossible not to be drawn in by it.”

Harry reached out, gently cupping her chin, and the tenderness in his touch sent a ripple of goosebumps down her spine. His thumb brushed across her cheek, light as a whisper, and her heart stuttered.

“I meant it when I said that you’re precious to me.”

She wanted to throw herself into his arms, to kiss him breathless — but she didn’t want him to stop talking either. Every word he gave her peeled back a layer she had tried so hard to keep hidden from the rest of the world.

“When I’m not with you, I’m wishing that I was. And when we leave each other, all I can think about is the next time I’ll get to see you again.” His eyes shifted down to their entwined hands as if searching for the right words. “I care for you deeply, Aurora, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t. I’ve been holding back because I know how complicated this is, and I’ve just been trying to protect you. And Charlotte. But I don’t know how to do that without losing this. Without losing you.”

He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. They stayed there for a while, still and quiet, breathing in sync.

When he finally pulled back, it was only far enough to meet her eyes.

“Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?” A small, wistful smile played on his lips. “It was ‘whatever you say.’ I didn’t realize it at the time, but that’s the truth of it. It’s whatever you say, Aurora. Always has been. If this is too much, if you want me to walk away, I will. It’ll break something in me, but I’ll do it.”

He held his breath, waiting. Hoping.

“And if I don’t want you to walk away?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Then we’ll figure it out. Together.”

It was a promise.

She launched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of it. He smelled warm and comforting — like home.

Like someone she could come home to.

“That’s all I want, Harry.”

He pulled her in tighter, swaying her gently, like he needed to feel every inch of her against him. She let herself melt into it, consumed in the best way possible.

Then she pulled back just enough to see him again.

His gaze burned into her. She felt it — matched it — the hunger that had simmered between them for months, now breaking through the cracks of restraint.

“Does this mean I can kiss you again?” He asked, voice low and teasing.

Had she really scolded him that harshly?

She tilted her head, playing coy despite the fire building inside her. “You’re still talking?”

That earned her a quiet laugh — deep and breathless — before he finally closed the space between them and kissed her. It started slow, tender, like he was savoring the feeling of her lips against his once more.

But that tenderness didn’t last very long.

The kiss turned molten in seconds, all reverence slipping away. It deepend with every breath,

every tilt of her mouth beneath his, months of desire and frustration unraveling between them. She clung to his shirt, needing to feel more. He kissed her like he couldn’t get enough, like he wouldn’t stop unless she made him.

And she had no intention of stopping him.

His hands came up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing her skin with aching tenderness as he kissed her like she was a secret he wasn’t ready to give up. When their mouths parted, a soft, helpless sound broke free from her. His breath lingered at her cheek before he pressed another kiss to the corner of her lips, trailing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw. She trembled when he reached her neck, the heat of his mouth searing through her like a promise.

“And here?”

She nodded, barely able to breathe, her head falling back slightly to give him more.

He smiled against her skin, then latched onto a tender spot just beneath her jaw, sucking gently until her knees weakened. A moan slipped from her lips, quiet and raw.

Then he bit her — light, teasing — and it unraveled her.

Her fingers wove through his hair, reluctant to let him go as he eased back to look at her. His hand lingered at her neck, thumb trailing softly over the place where his mouth had been. His eyes locked on hers, open and searching, like he was trying to memorize her.

“Where else can I kiss you?”

There was no misinterpreting the way he looked at her.

He would follow her lead — wherever it went.

And God, she couldn’t wait to take him there.

Part Sixteen

Tag List (thank you all for tuning in - please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from this list):

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softonstyles · 20 days ago

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Part 14! Omg that cliffhanger 😭 I just know Harry caught a glimpse of them hugging and smiling and he’s losing it rn🙂‍↕️ can’t believe he was so insistent on taking him home… but that TEXT?! HELLO?! What is there more to talk about Mr. We can’t be together?!

Kyle is the sweetest 😔 in another world him and Aurora are could’ve been cute together lol i immediately fell for him when he asked her who she was hung up on and then he got vulnerable 😭

This part was so good! Loved everything about! So much excited how everything will play out!🦋🪽

sorry to leave you hanging but i promise (hope) it’ll pay off in the next few parts 🙈

right? justice for kyle! totally agree that in another world, him and aurora would have worked :)

thank you so much love! i always have the biggest smile on my face reading your comments 🥰

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softonstyles · 20 days ago

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I just realized that sounded a bit demanding, I'm just super excited I love this series n ur so talented 🤞

OMG please, i didn’t find that to be demanding at all! you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that you’re enjoying this series and i really appreciate you checking in 🥹

if anything, it’s even more motivation to write! so thank YOU <3

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softonstyles · 20 days ago

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WHEN'S THE NEXT PART?

AHAHA so i have this thing where i only release a chapter when i have the one after it already written (i.e. part 15 comes out when part 16 is done)

(i do this because my job can be quite hectic/a bit unpredictable at times, and i would hate to leave you without an update over a certain period of time)

so if all goes according to plan, i’ll update by next weekend latest. but if things go even BETTER — like if i manage to sneak in some writing time while at work — you might even see something mid-week! 😘

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softonstyles · 21 days ago

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Part Fourteen

Part Thirteen

Word Count: 3.6K

Things always spiraled a bit when Charlotte took on the role of stylist.

Which explained how Aurora found herself in front of Charlotte’s bedroom mirror, staring back at a version of herself she barely recognized.

Aurora was dressed head-to-toe in black, but there was nothing understated about her look. The corset stole the spotlight — sleek, structured, and unapologetically tight. It cinched her waist and carved out an hourglass silhouette that left little to the imagination.

Her makeup was far bolder than she was used to; eyes smoked out in shadow that made the deep brown gleam like polished glass. Her hair fell in loose, voluminous waves, as if it had been tousled by something far more thrilling than a curling iron (if only, she thought solemnly).

She looked stunning. Maybe even a little dangerous.

“I don’t even look like me,” Aurora murmured, more to her reflection than to Charlotte.

“Of course you do.” Charlotte replied easily, flicking the wing of her eyeliner. “You just keep this side of you tucked away most of the time. But when she comes out to play. . .” Her voice drifted off as she raised a knowing brow — then cursed. “Shit. Now why did I do that? My eyeliner’s ruined.”

Aurora laughed, shaking her head as she reached for a Q-tip on the vanity. She dipped it carefully into the micellar water, then handed it to Charlotte.

“Thanks,” Charlotte said, accepting it — though her gaze lingered a little too long on Aurora’s chest. “Are you on your period?”

“In a few days,” Aurora blinked. “Why?”

“Because the puppies are barking.”

“Oh my God, Char,” Aurora groaned, swatting her away as Charlotte started mock-barking. She hadn’t even thought about it, but it tracked. No wonder she’d been drowning in her feelings lately — her period was clearly on the horizon.

Still, that was only part of it. Deep down, she knew Harry’s effect on her wasn’t just hormonal. That man had a hold on her that wasn’t going to fade with the end of her follicular phase, but at least now she could blame some of the emotional chaos on biology.

Snapping herself back to the present with a sudden rush of focus, Aurora offered a warm smile. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Appreciate you!” Charlotte sang, finishing her makeup. “Hopefully Ben thinks so, too.”

Right on cue, her phone lit up on the bed, and his custom ringtone chimed.

“Speak of the devil,” she grinned.

Ben’s friends were nice.

She could tell, though, that everyone was hoping she would find one friend in particular — Kyle — especially nice.

And to be fair, he was. He’d offered to grab her a drink shortly after they met, and now he was weaving through the crowd with two bottles of Stella in each hand, wearing a crooked smile like he knew just how charming he was.

Cambridge Bar was nice, too, with a ground floor full of tables where people drank, laughed, and picked at shareable plates. The only downside was the noise — pulsing music from the upstairs dance floor spilled into the space below, making it nearly impossible to hold a proper conversation.

(Aurora didn’t mind it, though. At least not all the way. It gave her an easy out — anytime Marilyn tried to spark a conversation, she would just shrug and point upwards, insinuating that she couldn’t hear.)

Eventually, the group gravitated toward a worn pool table tucked into the back corner. The space was quieter there, and a low hanging fixture bathed the table in soft amber light. The green felt was faded and the edges were chipped, but something about it felt cozy.

She hadn’t played in years, but the moment she lined up her shot, muscle memory kicked in. The satisfying crack of the cue ball sent her target gliding neatly into the corner pocket. She straightened up, a little proud of herself.

Maybe she still had it.

Then she noticed Marilyn, standing a few feet away with a drink in hand, wearing a look that could sour milk. As soon as the ball dropped, she rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, vanishing into the crowd like a dark cloud pulled out to sea.

What the hell was she upset about now?

Before she had the chance to overthink it, Kyle reappeared beside her.

“Everything okay?” He asked, extending one of the Stella’s.

Aurora glanced at the bottle. She’d just finished a gin and tonic — not the smartest time to mix — but she doubted she would be here long enough for it to matter.

“All good,” she said, accepting it with a smile. “Thanks.”

They clinked bottles.

“Cheers.”

Kyle stood beside her, nursing his drink as he watched the rest of the group crowd around the pool table. His shoulder brushed lightly against hers, just enough for her to notice — and for him to pretend it was unintentional.

Aurora didn’t want to flirt. She just wanted to enjoy the night, maybe laugh a little, and feel like a normal person again. But even now, with Kyle right here — warm, interested, and objectively attractive — all she could think about was Harry.

Harry, who never pretended things were unintentional.

She had spent the last few days tangled in confusion over his actions, but now she saw them for what they really were: deliberate, careful expressions of something he simply couldn’t say out loud at first. He had always been clear, just. . . cautious.

And sometimes, she hated that — like right now.

Because what was the point of making his feelings clear if he was never going to do anything about them? He could have just let her yearn quietly. But instead, he decided to strike a match. And now her yearning didn’t just ache.

It burned.

“Don’t worry,” Aurora said, breaking out of her thoughts with a forced smile. “I played your shot while you were gone.” She nodded at the table, where a few of his friends were arguing over whose turn it was.

“Yeah, I watched you from the bar — you brought us closer to victory!” He shot her a boyish grin and lifted his free hand for a high five. “Be honest, do you play a lot? That was some pro-level stuff.”

As he leaned in to say it, she could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Uh, not really,” Aurora said with a small shake of her head, trying to play it cool. “I haven’t played in a while. School’s been busy, and before that, I was working a lot.”

She took an unconscious step back — and bumped into the table behind her with a soft thud.

Kyle immediately clocked it and froze. She could almost see the wheels turning as he cleared his throat and stepped back. “Oh, sorry, ‘s just loud in here.”

She shook her head, appreciating the shift. “Don’t worry about it — you’re right, it’s ridiculously loud.”

He gave a small, nervous smile and took a sip of his drink. “So, uh. . . you’re in the same DPT program as Marilyn, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

Her eyes widened the second she heard herself.

“Oh my God,” she said, bringing a hand to her face. “I meant the school part. Not Marilyn. That sounded — wow, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” Her mind was already spiraling: what if this somehow got back to Ben? Or worse, Charlotte?

Great. Just one more thing to add to the ever-growing list of ways she was screwing things up for her.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, amused. “So. . . you do like working with Marilyn?”

Aurora opened her mouth, then hesitated. The beer dulled her tongue and made it harder to spin something diplomatic.

“It’s, uh, complicated.”

He titled his head with a smirk. “Complicated?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. Was he fucking with her?

After a brief pause, Aurora finally settled for a simple, “We don’t talk much — we’re both pretty busy.”

Kyle nodded like he got it, his eyes still on hers. Then he leaned in just slightly, more friendly than flirty, and said:

“Lucky you.”

A quiet laugh escaped her before she could stop it. He was definitely fucking with her.

“That was a test,” he said, straightening with a grin.

“Oh?” She raised a brow, mirroring his tone. “And did I pass?”

“A+, no doubt about it. Charlotte was right — you’re sharp.”

Kyle was very nice.

Everything was going just fine, at least on the surface. The music was loud, the drinks were good, and the people she was with were even better (except for just one person, of course).

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. More specifically, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he was out tonight, too. With Katy.

Aurora still didn’t really know who Katy was. Just that she must have been perfect, because she could only imagine that Harry surrounded himself with like-minded people. People that were closer in age to him. Someone he could openly flirt with, smile at in public, touch without hesitation. The not-knowing made it even worse for her. The narrative she had created was spinning fast enough to drive her crazy, but she couldn’t hold herself back from it.

Was Katy someone from his past, or someone new?

Someone he could actually have?

Probably.

And what was Aurora to him, exactly? His feelings for her had been made clear, but that didn’t change the fact that she was a complication. There were glances that lingered too long and silences that said too much — and still, he refused to do a damn thing about it.

But the worst part was that he wouldn’t even try.

That was what cut the deepest: not being someone worth the risk.

It struck something raw in her — something old and bone-deep. That quiet, aching belief planted in every place she had never stayed long enough to call home. No matter how hard she tried, her actions would never be enough.

Because she was always the one just passing through, instead of the one people built around.

The thought made her throat tighten, and she could have burst into tears. Right there, in the middle of the bar. She could have blamed it on hormones, too — her period was probably a day away — but she knew better.

Ugh.

“Wanna dance?” She turned to Kyle, desperate for a distraction.

“Huh?” He leaned in, the music swallowing her words. “Didn’t catch that.”

“Dance!” She repeated over the beat. With a quick tug, she pulled him toward the stairs, flashing a grin over her shoulder at Charlotte. “Come with us!”

“Fina-fucking-ly!” Charlotte cheered, yanking Ben along with her. The rest of their group followed as they moved upstairs toward the dance floor.

If the music downstairs had been loud, upstairs was deafening.

A disco ball spun overhead, scattering fractured light across a sea of bodies in motion. The DJ’s booth thumped like a second heartbeat, and Aurora, hand-in-hand with Charlotte, pushed her way into the crowd — forgetting the boys entirely.

They danced. They laughed. Let the rhythm and alcohol do what they were meant to.

Aurora didn’t need another drink — she’d already hit that golden hum, the kind that dulled the edges and made everything feel far away, in the best way. After months spent tightening every screw just to keep from falling apart, this ease felt like breath finally let loose. And really, what was the point of all the effort, all the exhaustion, if she couldn’t let herself feel this every now and then?

By the time the third song faded out, they regrouped with the others. Charlotte was already leaning into Ben, whispering something close to his ear, while Kyle made his way back to Aurora with a new drink in one hand and a glowing neon ring in the other.

“Where’d you get that?” Aurora asked, laughing as he approached.

“Some drunk guy in a Garfield costume gave it to me,” Kyle said with a shrug. “Didn’t seem like the kind of moment to ask questions.” He slipped the bright pink glow ring over her head, grinning.

They danced side by side, not touching, just moving with the music. She appreciated how, this time, he didn’t edge closer or try to close the space between them. There was no expectation in the air, just an easy kind of presence that made her feel — if not entirely at ease — at least unbothered.

It was strange how something as simple as respecting her space felt noteworthy, even rare.

She’d had enough uncomfortable encounters in college to know how fast a good time could turn sour. But with Harry, that tension had never existed. He’d never once crossed a line (at least not one that she didn’t want him to). Being around him felt calm, natural; like something her nervous system didn’t need to brace against.

Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was the fact that he was someone’s father. Or maybe it had nothing to do with either — maybe it was just him.

Ugh. Again.

She really needed to stop thinking about him.

The group eventually made their way downstairs, the music fading into a soft, rhythmic thrum behind them — like a distant echo of the night they were slowly stepping away from. The bar below was quieter, more relaxed. Laughter danced through the air, blending with the delicate clatter of glass and the low hum of lingering conversation.

“That was fun,” Charlotte said, linking her arm through Aurora’s as they walked side by side. She cast a glance over her shoulder toward the others, raising her voice just enough to be heard. “What’s next, everyone?”

Aurora pulled out her phone.

12: 17 A.M.

Not late by city standards — at least, not really — but her body told a different story. Hours of talking, laughing, and sipping cocktails had left Aurora spent, her limbs heavy with exhaustion and the slow afterglow of alcohol.

“I think I’m calling it,” she said quietly, leaning toward Charlotte. “I’ll just head back to your place. I can Uber.”

Charlotte stopped in her tracks, frowning. “Alone? No way, I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Aurora replied, offering a small, worn-out smile. “Seriously, Char. Stay and have fun, I’ll be fine.”

Before Charlotte could press further, Kyle appeared beside them; hands in his jacket pockets, expression easy. “Leaving already?”

“Aurora is,” Charlotte said with mock disapproval. “And she thinks I’m going to just let her wander off alone like some random pedestrian.”

“I can go with her,” Kyle offered without hesitation. “I’m like, what, ten minutes from your place? I’ll just walk the rest of the way.”

Aurora paused, considering. Charlotte wasn’t going to let her leave alone, that much was obvious, and Kyle’s suggestion made sense.

“Are you sure you don’t mind leaving early?”

Kyle shrugged, giving her a relaxed smile. “It’s no big deal. I’ve got to be up early anyway — coaching Little League at eight.”

“Sure then,” Aurora nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, Kyle.”

She turned back to Charlotte, who was already raising her brows like she’d just been proven right in an unspoken argument.

“So Kyle’s taking you home, then,” Charlotte said, trying not to grin.

“Apparently,” Aurora replied dryly, ignoring the look. “I’ll see you later.”

“Since you’re leaving, I might just end up at Ben’s tonight. Don’t wait up.” She winked, pulling Aurora in for a hug. “Be safe, okay? Text me when you’re back.”

“Mm, no you be safe.”

The ride back to Charlotte’s house passed in silence. Aurora sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the window as street lights flickered by, casting fleeting shadows across her face. Kyle sat beside her, glancing over now and then, checking on her.

“You okay?” He asked softly, concern woven through his voice.

She turned, offering a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Kyle was kind — gentle, thoughtful, her own age.

The kind of guy she should be falling for.

The kind she wanted to fall for, if only to free herself from the hold Harry had on her. But no matter how much she wished for it, there was no spark. And that truth settled in her chest like a weight, thick with guilt.

When the car finally pulled into the driveway, the first thing Aurora noticed was the absence.

No car. No sign of Harry.

He still wasn’t home.

A quiet dread curled low in her stomach.

“You sure you’re alright?” Kyle asked again, catching the way she hesitated.

She forced another smile. “All good.”

As he walked her all the way to the front steps, a wave of nerves crept in; not the soft, fluttery kind, but the kind that prickled beneath the skin, uneasy and crawling. She worried about Kyle thinking that this meant something more — or worse, that he expected a kiss. And when Aurora got nervous, she rambled.

“Thank you for coming back with me. That was super thoughtful of you, you really didn’t have to. . . Oh, and the drinks! Both of them — super good — thank you.”

They stood just in front of the porch now, facing each other. Kyle let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Any decent person would have done the same. You don’t have to thank me.”

She smiled again, unsure of what else to say. For a moment, they stood in a quiet that felt both comfortable and loaded.

Then Kyle tilted his head, breaking the silence. “So. . . I guess this is it, huh?”

His question threw her. “What do you mean?”

He gave her a look — not bitter, not accusatory. Just quietly knowing. “You’re into someone else.”

Aurora’s heart stuttered. “What?”

“I can tell,” he said gently. “You were somewhere else tonight. You had that look. . . the same one I wore for months. You miss someone.”

She didn’t move. At this point, she knew better than to lie to Kyle — and honestly, she didn’t want to. Talking to him came easily, and she had kept this secret bottled up for long enough.

“Yeah,” Aurora replied solemnly. “I do.”

Kyle nodded like he had already made peace with it.

After a beat, she added, “You too?”

“Yeah,” he mirrored her earnest expression. He shifted his weight back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets. “We’d been together since high school, and I really thought we would get married. Right up until she ended things a few months ago. . . and jumped straight into a new relationship with her coworker.”

Something tugged at her chest. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry.”

He gave a small shrug. “It is what it is.”

“I don’t have any wise advice about dealing with heartbreak — if I did, I would probably be using it myself — but. . . you’re a good guy, Kyle, and I know someone else is going to see that right away.”

Kyle smiled at that. “Thanks, Aurora. Same to you. And whoever you’re hung up on — he’s an idiot.”

Aurora laughed, the sound soft and warm in the quiet night, then pulled Kyle into a hug. He didn’t hesitate — wrapping his arms around her like they had done this a hundred times before.

Just as she stepped back, the hum of an approaching car broke the moment. A sleek black vehicle slowed to a stop in front of the house. The passenger window rolled down with a low mechanical whir, revealing Harry behind the wheel, his gaze fixed squarely on her.

He didn’t blink. His expression was carefully neutral, but something about the tight line of his jaw made her stomach twist.

Kyle turned toward the car, oblivious. “Oh, hey Mr. Styles!” He called out, lifting a hand in a cheerful wave.

Harry’s reply came a beat too late. “Hi, Kyle.” His tone was cool, clipped — so opposite from Kyle’s warmth that it felt like a chill in the air. “Were you just dropping Aurora off?”

“I was, yeah.”

“That was nice of you,” Harry nodded, each word deliberate. “Why don’t I drive you back home?”

It wasn’t a question.

Kyle blinked, slightly thrown. “Oh, uh, that’s okay. Aurora and I were still talking. I can just walk —”

“It’s nearly one in the morning,” Harry cut in, his voice low but firm. “You were kind enough to make sure she got home safe. You’ve done your part, now let me do mine.”

Aurora’s eyes drifted to him. He wasn’t looking at Kyle; his attention hadn’t wavered from her. His hand remained clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles pale beneath the glow of the streetlamp.

Kyle hesitated, visibly unsure at first, then gave a reluctant nod. “Right, yeah.” He turned to Aurora with a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll see you around?”

She returned the smile. “Definitely. And thanks again, Kyle. For everything.”

“Okay, okay, enough with the thanks,” Kyle chuckled, giving her arm a brief, warm squeeze before heading toward Harry’s car.

As Kyle got into the car, Aurora glanced at Harry — only to find he was no longer watching her. His head was bent slightly, thumbs moving over his phone screen.

Kyle fastened his seatbelt and looked her way again, lifting a hand to wave. But before the gesture could land, Harry pulled off the curb.

She watched the tail lights disappear down the street, frowning in confusion at the tension radiating from him.

Then her phone buzzed. A new notification lit up the screen.

She swiped it open — and her breath caught.

Harry: We need to talk.

Harry: Wait for me to get home.

Part Fifteen

A/N: buckle in, y'all — we're getting hot and heavy in the next few parts! 🤠 if you enjoyed reading this or would like a sneak peak into the next part, let me know here <3

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softonstyles · 27 days ago

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Part 13! I’m BUZZING with excitement to know what Harry is currently feeling! The fact he clearly did not like the idea of Aurora going about with Charlotte… crazy behavior! Though I do love the idea of him suffering through his own jealousy 🙂‍↕️ dare I say I would like him to suffer just a tad bit more 🤭 I wonder if he will he wil know about Kyle and Aurora👀

WHO IS KATY?! My girl Aurora is suffering way too much already and then KATY gets mentioned 😭 I would do more than chocking on that quiche 😭 I’m so intrigued how Harry and Aurora will navigate this!! Love this part so much! Amazing as always❤️

With love, from 🦋/🪽

my sweet angel — hello, hello! 🤍

i definitely agree with you on wanting him to suffer through his jealousy, especially since it’s well deserved 😌 trust me, he will definitely learn more about kyle and aurora, and it may or may not make him act out in a way that we don’t usually see from him 🙈

hehehe, katy will be revealed very, very soon, and aurora’s worries will finally be. . . put to rest? heightened? who knows!

ugh, as always, thank you so much for your thoughtful words. i appreciate you so much, and part fourteen will be out in just a few days <3

💖 YOU

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softonstyles · 1 month ago

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Part Thirteen

Part Twelve

Word Count: 2.7K

Crawling out of bed the next morning felt like a cruel joke.

Then again, in some twisted way, Aurora figured she probably deserved it.

In a moment of either stubborn pride or quiet self-destruction (she wasn’t quite sure which), Aurora agreed to join Charlotte and Ben on their early morning walk around the reservoir. Normally, Charlotte wouldn’t be caught dead out of bed before noon, which only confirmed what Aurora suspected: Ben was good for her. Good enough to help her break a few bad habits, at least.

Aurora welcomed the bite in the air; it gave her a convenient excuse for her pink, blotchy face. Not that Charlotte had noticed — she was too wrapped up in her conversation with Ben, laughing at something he would say every other minute. Their strides matched, shoulders brushing as they moved in sync. At some point, Aurora had quietly fallen behind, giving them space to disappear into their own little world.

Which, of course, left her alone with hers — a place that felt a bit dangerous this morning.

“Do you regret it?”

“Of course I don’t. That’s the problem.”

Aurora blinked hard and lifted her gaze to the trees swaying in the wind. She was here to reset, not unravel.

The reservoir, like the town itself, held a quiet, undeniable beauty. Even beneath a brooding sky, the autumn leaves burned along the mountainside; their fire mirrored in the water’s calm shimmer. It looked pure enough to bottle, and after forgoing hers, Aurora was almost tempted to drink straight from the source. People always said Vermont was unmatched in the fall — now she could confirm it firsthand.

And if she keeled over from drinking lake water, or a broken heart, at least it would be with a view.

As they walked along the trail, something caught her eye — a round, white-painted structure sitting deeper in the field, just before the trees took over. It looked like a gazebo, quietly tucked away in nature.

“Is that a gazebo?” Aurora called out, her voice cutting through the stillness.

Charlotte turned around. “Huh?” But when she followed Aurora’s gaze, her face lit up with recognition. “Oh, yeah! Want to check it out?”

Aurora was already veering toward it. Now Charlotte and Ben had to catch up to her.

She couldn’t explain why, but she loved hidden spots like this. Especially in the middle of nature. They did something good for her — settled her, grounded her. And grounding was exactly what she needed.

The gazebo turned out to be even more perfect up close. On one side, it overlooked the reservoir’s glinting surface; on the other, a cascade of fall foliage climbed up the mountains. Aurora sat right in the middle, angled so she could take in both views if she turned her head. But for now, she leaned back until her spine met the wooden wall and tipped her face to the sky, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly.

Charlotte joined her with a soft thud and an even softer expression.

“You okay?”

Aurora cracked one eye open and gave her a thin, practiced smile. “Never better.”

Charlotte didn’t press. She didn’t have to. She knew her friend well enough to sense something was off — but she also knew not to dig, especially in front of Ben. Aurora could feel her silence morph into suspicion, and the weight of it only made her heart race faster. She didn’t want to talk. Couldn’t. Not about last night.

She needed time to recalibrate.

“So,” Ben piped up, breaking the tension. “Charlotte mentioned you’re coming to Cambridge with us tonight?”

Aurora hadn’t officially agreed. But when Charlotte spun around and shot her a hopeful look, she understood her cue.

“That’s right,” she nodded, smoothing her voice into something casual. “Post-Thanksgiving tradition, yeah?”

“Exactly,” Ben agreed, his grin widening. “My best friend Mason and his girlfriend Marilyn will be there — she’s in your cohort, right? And my buddy Kyle, who I think you’d really get along with.”

That last part wasn’t subtle.

Aurora managed to keep her expression level, but internally, her nerves tangled. Where to even begin?

First, seeing Marilyn right now — especially in a setting that required polite conversation — made her stomach turn. And then there was the obvious set-up with Kyle. Under normal circumstances, being introduced to a cute friend would have intrigued her. But she was currently operating under non-normal circumstances and the idea of being with someone other than Harry made her nauseous. Her heart still felt raw, cracked open from the night before.

And to top it all off — Marilyn’s boyfriend was named Mason? That was only one letter away from Manson and even that felt a little too poetic for someone like her.

Charlotte must have picked up on the hesitation, because she quickly chimed in. “You’re going to have so much fun, I promise! Ben’s friends are all so sweet,” then, with a nudge that was anything but subtle, she added, “especially Kyle.”

Aurora felt the unspoken pressure settle around her. Charlotte clearly sensed something was off, and she was trying — clumsily, but sweetly — to help. To lift her up with the idea of a night out and a cute guy.

She didn’t want to flirt. Didn’t want to fake a smile or pretend she wasn’t unraveling inside. But even more than that, she didn’t want to explain why.

So, Aurora gave them the response she knew they wanted to hear.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Her tone was convincing enough to fool Ben, but Charlotte leaned in, resting her head gently on Aurora’s shoulder.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Her voice was soft, sincere. Concern colored every word. And Aurora — well, she was only human. She nearly broke right there. She wanted to confess everything about last night, to scrub herself clean of the guilt, the shame, the confusion. . . the aching emptiness that came along with feeling everything but love.

But she couldn’t. Lying to Charlotte gutted her, it always had. And even if she was hurt by Harry, the thought of hurting him felt worse.

“Everything’s fine, Char.” Aurora said, forcing reassurance into her voice. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough — Charlotte would remain suspicious unless she gave her something. “I just. . . forgot to call my family yesterday and now they’re icing me out. You know how petty my mom can be sometimes.”

Charlotte leaned back to look at her. “Aw, Aurora, don’t beat yourself up. Yesterday was so busy — they’ll understand. I bet they just miss you. You’ll see them soon for Christmas, anyway.” Then, with a smirk: “And yeah, Mrs. Rivera can be petty — but anyone who makes buñuelos that good gets a pass.”

Aurora laughed, genuinely. Charlotte always knew how to ease the pressure, even without knowing what was really going on. That was what hurt the most — that the one person she knew could help her through this storm was the only person she couldn’t talk to about it.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” Ben said, approaching. “But the sky’s getting dark. Let’s get you both home before it starts pouring.”

He offered each of them an elbow. They linked arms with a giggle and began their walk back, Aurora letting herself laugh a little more freely than she had all morning.

Aurora and Charlotte hadn’t been lucky enough to beat the rain home. Ben, ever the gentleman, had shrugged off his jacket and draped it over their shoulders. His North Face wasn’t quite large enough to cover them both once the downpour began in earnest, but the hood had done its job — at least their hair was (mostly) spared.

They laughed as they ran the rest of the way back, breathless by the time they kicked off their shoes in the foyer. It wasn’t until they peeled off Ben’s jacket that Aurora realized just how damp she actually was. Her workout set wasn’t completely soaked, but dark, wet patches clung to the fabric, and her curls were already starting to frizz. A towel was definitely in order.

The rich scent of something baking in the oven wafted from the kitchen, along with the sound of shifting pans.

“Stay here,” Charlotte said, already tugging off her socks. “I’ll grab us a towel from upstairs.”

Aurora opened her mouth to protest — being left alone, even if only for a second, risked running into him — but the words never came. She just watched Charlotte disappear upstairs and silently willed her to be quick.

“What’s all the commotion?”

Of course.

As if on cue, Harry stepped into view from around the corner. The first thing Aurora noticed was the grey apron tied around his waist — and the slightly unbuttoned silk shirt beneath it, revealing just the faintest trace of a chest tattoo. Her eyes dropped before darting back up to his face, silently praying he hadn’t noticed.

He looked maddeningly good.

His curls were slightly damp, freshly styled. The stubble she’d felt brush her skin the night before was now clean-shaven. But something in his expression was off. No charming grin. No glint in his eye.

He looked tired.

“Aurora?” He asked, surprise softening his features. He paused, eyes scanning her soaked figure. “Did you just come from outside? I thought you were still in bed.”

“Uh, yeah. Charlotte and I went for a walk with Ben — around the reservoir. Got, um, caught in the rain.” She gestured vaguely behind her, words tumbling fast as her gaze fixed on anything but him.

He didn’t respond right away, just stared at her for a moment too long. Aurora shifted on her feet, wishing the floor would just swallow her whole. She hadn’t planned to face him, especially not like this. Looking like a scared, wet kitten.

Where the hell is Charlotte?

“You’re wet,” Harry finally said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Aurora looked down at her clothes. “Oh, really?” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow and giving him a crooked smile. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Harry chuckled despite himself, the sound cutting through the tension. He stepped closer, and she noticed the kitchen towel in his hand. “C’mere.”

When he reached her, he began gently dabbing her arms and shoulders. It was difficult, but she managed to contain the urge to lean into his touch.

Once her arms were dry enough, he tipped her chin up with his free hand and began patting her face. His brows drew together in quiet concentration, focused, as if she were something fragile.

She closed her eyes under his touch, feeling every careful movement as it etched into her memory. When she opened them, he was still there, looking directly at her.

“That’s better.”

Still, he didn’t move. One hand remained on her cheek, the other lightly resting against her jaw. His eyes were stormy, unreadable — like there was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t.

And then —

Footsteps.

“Sorry!” Charlotte called out. “Had to hunt the towels down in the laundry room — oh, hey, dad.”

Harry pulled back, quickly turning toward her. “Morning, lovie. I’m surprised you’re up this early.”

Aurora swallowed hard.

Classic Char? More like classic Harry. Always knowing when to play it cool.

“Rude.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and tossed Aurora a towel, playfully swatting Harry with the other. “Ben wanted to go for a morning walk, so I dragged Aurora with us.” Then her eyes narrowed. “And why are you so dressed up? I thought you were off today?”

“About that —”

“Dad. It’s the day after Thanksgiving. You should be relaxing.”

“And I will. But we had a software update last night that messed with one of our platforms and I need to check on it.” Then, with a softer tone, “Which is why I made your favorite breakfast to make up for it. You two enjoy it without me, okay?”

He turned to Aurora as he said it. Her towel was now wrapped around her like a cocoon, and she stepped forward politely. “Thanks, Mr. Styles.”

Ugh. Mr. Styles. It sounded weird on her tongue.

Harry’s eyes shifted to the floor as he said, “Let me plate it for you before I head out.”

Now it was Charlotte’s turn to feel bad. “That’s okay, dad —”

“No, I insist.”

They followed him into the kitchen. Charlotte gave Aurora a small look — one that Aurora returned with a light squeeze to her shoulder, knowing these little work interruptions reminded her friend too much of her childhood.

“Sit, sit.”

They slid into the breakfast nook by the window, watching Harry plate their meals.

“Does this mean you’re not doing Friendsgiving this year?” Charlotte asked.

Harry easily popped a slice of bacon into his mouth, and Aurora swore it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. She needed to get a grip.

“Absolutely not. I’ll be home before six, and Friendsgiving starts at eight.”

He set down two full plates — breakfast quiche, bacon, and a colorful fruit spread.

“This looks delicious,” Aurora said, smiling up at him.

“Save your praise until you taste it.” Harry teased.

Aurora coughed, reaching for her water.

“Thanks, dad. Pretty sure your breakfast quiche is in my top three favorite dishes you make,” Charlotte said, already digging in.

Aurora took a bite just as Charlotte asked, “So, who’s hosting Friendsgiving this year?”

“Katy.”

Katy?

Katy?!

Aurora choked for the second time.

Both Harry and Charlotte looked at her, concerned. Charlotte patted her back. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Aurora croaked. “Just. . . this quiche.”

“It’s too dry?” Harry asked, brow raised.

She quickly looked up. “No, no!”

“You don’t like it.”

“It’s amazing! I just need to. . . eat slower, that’s all.”

He didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “Please. Take your time, Aurora.” His tone was gentle, but when he turned to Charlotte, Aurora could still feel his gaze on her.

She caught the way his hand drifted to the back of his neck, ringed fingers kneading the same spot he’d rubbed the night before. The familiar motion tugged at her memory — and stirred a quiet worry. Was he experiencing pain?

“That’s cool. We’ll probably miss you — we’re going to Cambridge’s tonight.”

“Really?” Harry’s response was immediate. Aurora didn’t miss the way his voice edged with surprise, maybe even concern. “That sounds. . . fun,” he added, slower this time.

Charlotte scoffed. “You sounded pained saying that.”

Harry forced a tight chuckle. “I just didn’t picture Cambridge being Aurora’s vibe,” he said, eyes shifting to her. “I hope Charlotte isn’t being a bad influence on you.”

“No, never,” Aurora gave an awkward laugh. “Apparently it’s Ben’s version of Friendsgiving.”

She didn’t owe him an explanation — especially not when he had plans with Katy — but she offered it anyway.

“So, you’ll be with Ben and his friends.” Harry repeated, slower this time, like he was testing the words.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, dad. We’ll be in good hands tonight, I promise.”

“I trust Bennett will get you both home safely.”

Aurora caught the cool edge in his voice — sharp enough that Charlotte probably noticed it too. But she didn’t say a word.

After a short beat, Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of Charlotte’s head. “Be safe tonight. Call if you need anything, okay? I’ll keep my phone on loud.”

Then he hesitated.

His hand settled briefly on Aurora’s shoulder, the touch light but deliberate.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice quieter now — more pointed.

She looked up at him. “Of course. Good luck with the software.”

“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”

He offered them both a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before disappearing through the back door with an apple in hand.

“That was weird,” Charlotte murmured.

Aurora’s heart skipped. “What was?”

“He’s known Ben since I was sixteen. Not once has he ever called him ‘Bennett.’ Did you hear that? It sounded so. . . formal.”

Aurora blinked, playing dumb. “Yeah. Weird.”

Phew.

“Whatever,” Charlotte said, shaking her head before taking another bite of her quiche. “Let’s finish up — it’s raining, which makes it the perfect day to shop for something hot to wear tonight.”

Aurora managed a laugh, hollow and automatic.

Part Fourteen

Tag List (thank you all for tuning in - please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from this list):

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softonstyles · 1 month ago

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I would love to be your 🦋 anon! I feel deeply honored 💞

you’re the sweetest 🥹

🪽 would have been just as fitting <3

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softonstyles · 1 month ago

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HARRY WTFFFF😭 why did he do Aurora so dirty like that😭 the logical side of my mind says his pov is valid too. Especially with her being so young, huge age gaps do grab peoples attention and typically all the hate goes towards the women/younger person involved. He’s right yet it seems like he already made that decision way before he talked to her. He didn’t really think what Aurora would want or let her give any input. And I do see why she would make that claim too! But the added layer of Charlotte really just makes everything so BAD in theory!

It could potentially destroy the relationship Aurora and Harry have with Charlotte! It would hurt so much for Harry since she’s his only daughter who he seems to love and care for deeply😭 so to have that be basically be stripped from him, I would also not want to risk any of that. Though it HURTS knowing that he would basically be together with Aurora is she just wasn’t her best friend’s dad😭

We got the first kiss but at what cost😭 not to mention him picking her up to take her to the room,finger on her LIPS?! and the makeup removal part😭 HIM CALLING HER BABY?!?😭my heart hurts for both of them but mostly Aurora 😭 she should definitely denote him back to mr styles🙂‍↕️ also make him suffer about his decision 😁

Extremely excited for what’s to come❤️

you are so right! it’s frustrating because (i think) it’s easy to understand why each person feels the way they do, and both sides are valid. my hope was to draw out the angst as much as possible before they each get what they deserve (each other? a roundhouse kick from charlotte? we’ll just have to see 🤭)

also — if you are the same person who has previously left the long and detailed anon asks, please know that i love and appreciate you dearly! 💖 i’ve seen other anon asker’s sign off with an emoji, and if i had to give you one, it would be a 🦋

:’)

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softonstyles · 2 months ago

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Part 11 was too good! THE TENSION?! DARLING?! PRETTY MOUTH?! IS THIS MAN TRYING TO KILL HER AND ME?! DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE HAND ON HER KNEE?! THE DESSERT MOMENT?!

I’m seriously losing my mind here! If I was Aurora I don’t think I would have handled myself that gracefully 😭 enjoying the slow burn of it all for this! I think it not only heightens their pull towards each other but it can be such a great set up for future plot moments that could be so angsty! While I love their tension in every aspect, I’m so scared how Charlotte will find out or react!!

Now i definitely do see this DILF Harry being a major pleaser! I think he for sure gets off on seeing others get off! I can see him being a switch just leaning a bit more dominant! Perhaps soft dom vibes! I’m so loving this story!

i have the biggest smile on my face because of your words — you have no idea 🥹

thank you so much for taking the time to read, share your helpful insights, EVERYTHING ahh <3 it does not go unnoticed and is so, so appreciated!

(P.S. i totally agree with you on the pleasing and soft dom vibes 🤭)

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softonstyles · 2 months ago

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Part Twelve

Part Eleven

Word Count: 3.3K

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Aurora stirred at the sound of Harry’s voice; low and smooth, warm honey melting into the quiet hush of the night. Her lashes fluttered, heavy with sleep, as she slowly surfaced from the quiet depths of her dreams. Darkness cloaked the room, broken only by silvery moonlight spilling through the windows, casting long shadows across the walls. A weight settled over her — a blanket, gently draped across her — its warmth a silent gesture of care.

“You fell asleep during the movie,” Harry murmured. His tone was close, quiet, meant only for her. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

Aurora pushed herself upright, the blanket sliding from her shoulders as she tried to shake off the fog of sleep. Her brow knit as her gaze dropped to it.

“I put it over you,” Harry said with a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you getting cold. Then I figured you'd be sore if you spent the whole night on the couch, so I thought I’d give you a heads-up before your body started complaining.”

His words settled over her like the very blanket he had placed, gentle and thoughtful, wrapping her in something far warmer than just fabric.

“That was really kind of you,” Aurora murmured, voice raspier than usual, still thick with sleep. “Thank you for —”

Before she could finish, Harry’s index finger pressed lightly against her lips, his gaze flicking toward the stairs.

Charlotte was asleep. She didn’t need him to say it — she understood.

Aurora nodded and started to push the blanket off her lap, rising to her feet — but before she could fully stand, Harry moved. He leaned down, his arms sliding beneath her in one seamless motion.

Her breath hitched. The suddenness of it stole any protest from Aurora’s lips, leaving her with nothing but the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her palm. She felt his strength, the quiet confidence in the way he carried her — as if she weighed nothing at all.

Instinctively, she looped her left arm around his neck, fingers gliding over the warm skin at his nape. His expression remained calm, neutral, but the slight shiver beneath her touch — the way goosebumps rose in response — told her everything she needed to know.

He carried her through the dimly lit house with unhurried precision, his strides slow and measured, as if prolonging the moment. She barely registered when they reached her room, too preoccupied with the way his touch lingered. The door latched with a soft click, the quiet turn of the lock sending a current of awareness down her spine.

It was just the two of them now.

The room, once familiar and unremarkable, suddenly felt smaller — charged with something

unspoken, electric.

And she was reveling in it.

The desk lamp's warm glow softened the room’s edges, its flickering light dancing across Harry’s face. It caught in his tousled curls, highlighted the sharp angles of his jaw, and deepened the quiet intensity in his gaze as he studied her.

“Where do you keep your makeup remover?” His voice was smooth, casual, as if asking her about the weather. “In one of your bags or the bathroom?”

She blinked at him, still catching up. “Bathroom.”

“Perfect.”

He disappeared down the hall, leaving her sitting there; breath uneven, fingers curled into the blanket as if that would steady her. But when he returned — micellar water and cotton rounds in hand — and lowered himself onto the bed, rolling up his sleeves like it was second nature, clarity hit her all at once.

Harry was going to remove her makeup.

If her heart hadn’t already softened beyond repair, it would have now. It was such a simple thing, but the intimacy of it threatened to undo her. And yet, just as quickly, another thought surfaced — sharp and unwelcome.

This wasn’t new to him.

That unsettling thought tightened in her stomach. Had he done this recently for someone else, another woman? Sat like this, taken care of her with the same quiet tenderness? A ridiculous, possessive feeling tightened in her chest.

She surprised herself by voicing it. “I don’t know if I like that you know how to do this so well.”

Harry’s movements slowed for just a second before he looked up at her, something amused and knowing glinting in his eyes.

He liked that.

“No need to worry, darling,” he murmured, dipping the cotton pad into the cleanser. “The only experience I have is from helping Charlotte when she was younger.”

Something inside her eased.

“Does that satisfy you?” He teased, voice laced with quiet merriment.

She nodded.

He chuckled softly before leaning in. “Careful,” he whispered, close enough for his breath to fan over her skin. “This might be a little cold.”

Aurora was too distracted by how close she was to Harry’s mouth to process his warning. It wasn’t until the cool cotton met her cheek that she startled, instinctively pulling back. He paused instantly and locked his gaze with hers, searching for reassurance. When she gave a small nod, he smiled and resumed — slow, precise. His touch was so gentle it was almost a caress; firm enough to sweep away the makeup, but delicate, almost reverent, as he traced over the contours of her face.

Her breath came slow and deep as he worked in silence. It usually took her multiple passes to remove every trace of makeup, but Harry was methodical, deliberate. And by the time he pulled back, she felt stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with the absence of foundation or mascara.

Then, with the lightest touch, his thumb brushed along her jaw, a whisper of contact that left a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, so quietly that Aurora couldn’t tell if he was speaking to her or merely thinking out loud. A beat passed before he cleared his throat, his gaze dropping as he crushed the cotton pad in his hand and tossed it into the bin beside her bed. “You’re all set.”

There was something profoundly revealing about sitting in front of him like this — bare and unguarded, without anything to shield her. And yet, she didn’t want to look away.

“Thank you, Harry,” Aurora said softly. Then, after a pause, “Are you staying? We should probably talk.”

“We should.” He agreed, studying her for a moment before adding, “Do you want to get more comfortable first?”

It was then that she noticed — he already had. Gone was the fitted sweater from earlier, replaced by a dark green t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked so comfortable, and she had to fight the urge to curl into him.

“Yeah,” she admitted, pushing off the bed. “Since you’re already cozy.”

His hand landed gently on her shoulder, halting her movements. “I saw your pajamas in the bathroom, I’ll grab them for you.” With a teasing smile, he lightly squeezed, “Hate to see that stunning dress go, but it’s only fair you’re comfortable too.”

Aurora smiled, grateful he had already turned around and missed her blush. His compliments toward her always came so naturally. She wondered if he had any idea what they did to her.

Harry returned and placed Aurora’s clothes in front of her before silently turning his back to give her privacy. “Let me know when you’re done.”

She dressed swiftly, sneaking glances at him as she slipped into her silk pajamas. She knew he wouldn’t peek — Harry was far too much of a gentleman for that. But a small, rebellious part of her almost wished he would.

Once she finished, Harry gathered her dress, folding it neatly before placing it on the nightstand. Then, without a word, he returned to his place on the edge of the bed.

They sat there, facing each other, the space between them charged with something unspoken. Aurora could hear the steady rise and fall of his breath, could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. There was tension in the set of his shoulders, in the way his hands rested against his thighs.

Harry exhaled, running a hand through his curls before finally reaching for her. His fingers found hers, warm and certain, threading them together in a way that sent a slow shiver up her spine.

“Aurora,” he began, his voice rougher now. “I think it’s quite obvious how I feel about you, but in case there’s any confusion, I’ll make it clear right now. I care about you. A lot. This is —” Harry paused, searching for the right words. “— you are. . . so precious to me. More than I think you even realize.”

A deep yearning bloomed in her chest.

This was it.

“This is precious to me, too,” she said, her heart pounding at the sheer weight of his confession. All of it felt unreal. “I really like you, Harry.”

His smile was brief — a fleeting glimpse of emotion before he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. “You have no idea,” he began, “how much I wanted to hear that. . . but how much I wish I hadn’t.”

“You don’t — what? I don’t think I’m following. . .”

“Because of the reality of this.” His eyes met hers, and in them, she saw it — that flicker of regret, of hesitation. It made her stomach twist. “Aurora, you’re twenty-six. I’m forty-two. That’s not a small thing.”

“Maybe not,” she countered, voice steady. “But I don’t care about any of that, Harry, and I hope you don’t either. You might be older than me, but that hasn’t prevented us from forming a connection.”

“We have,” he admitted, his words almost lost in the silence. “And I don’t. I have no doubt in my mind that what we share is real and we’d be equals in every way that matters.” His thumb brushed idly over the middle ring on his finger, as if he needed something to steady himself. “But that doesn’t mean others will see it that way. And I would never want you to bear the weight of that scrutiny. I could never allow it, Aurora.”

Aurora shook her head, inching closer. “I’m old enough to know what I want, Harry, and it’s you. I don’t care what other people think.”

His expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked almost resigned, like he had already thought this through to its better end. He filled the brief silence by running a hand along the back of his neck, pausing to press at certain spots, like he was trying to work something out beneath the skin.

Maybe it was her.

“Not even Charlotte?”

She felt it like a gut punch — the mention of Charlotte. He knew what he was doing by bringing up her name. Aurora’s breath stilled, fingers tightening into the sheets as her mind raced for a defense, a way to refute him. Her lips parted, but hesitation stalled her.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

This wasn’t just about their age difference. It was about the undeniable, unchangeable truth — Harry wasn’t just anyone. He was Charlotte’s father.

“I — I. . .” Aurora stammered. He looked so pained, so weighed down by the conflict pressing on his shoulders. She wanted to fix it, to take it away, tell him that it didn’t matter. “I know it’s. . . complicated. And yeah, it’ll be hard at first, but Charlotte loves us. She’ll come around —”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Would you?” He asked quietly. “If the roles were reversed — if it were your dad and friend?”

She knew what he wanted to hear, and she wanted to give it to him. But the truth was, she didn’t know.

“I don’t know.” Aurora sighed, her voice barely above a whisper now.

Harry gave a slow nod, pressing his lips together as he continued turning the ring on his finger. He looked deep in thought, but also — somewhere beneath it all — uncertain.

And that was what got to her the most.

This was Harry. Steady, confident, always sure of himself. And yet, here he was — doubtful, a second away from being torn away from her for good.

She wanted to remind him that this was real, that they were worth it.

But words didn’t feel like enough anymore.

Aurora leaned in slowly, reducing the space between them inch by inch, giving him every chance to stop her.

He didn’t.

His breath hitched, body tensed — but he stayed right where he was, watching her. Like he wanted this, wanted her, and that was all the encouragement she needed.

“If we can’t be together,” Aurora whispered, her fingertips grazing the sharp line of his jaw, “then could you at least put my longings to rest? Just this once.”

His gaze remained locked on hers, searching, as if waiting for her to take it back.

She didn’t.

“Aurora. . .”

“Just this once,” she repeated, her voice trembling with need. If she hadn’t been so caught up in the moment, she might have felt embarrassed — ashamed, even — at how desperate she sounded. But they had never been this close before, and she couldn’t let it slip away. Not again. “Please, Harry. Can you at least do that for me?”

His expression darkened at the word please. In fact, that word alone seemed to undo him.

A muscle ticked in his jaw before he exhaled sharply. “Okay.” His voice was rough, edged with something dangerous. He finally closed the distance between them, settling his large hand over hers. “But don’t fool yourself into thinking this is just for you.”

Then, at long last, he kissed her.

It began tenderly — a cautious brush of his lips, gentle and reverent. The warmth of his mouth stirred something deep inside her, a slow heat that unfurled through her limbs as she sighed into the kiss.

Finally.

His touch was hesitant, almost reluctant, as if he were trying to convince himself this was a mistake. But to Aurora, it was everything she had been wanting and more. They were alone, and Harry’s lips were on hers. And for once, she didn’t have to wake up and long for a reality that wasn’t hers.

She knew it was wrong — he was so much older, and Charlotte was asleep just upstairs. But right now, she couldn’t bring herself to worry about it. Aurora had spent a lifetime putting others first, always prioritizing their needs over her own. And so had Harry.

So what happened when two givers were finally left to their own devices?

When the only ones left to give to were each other?

The mere thought sent a whimper past her lips, and that was all it took.

A low growl rumbled in Harry’s chest as his restraint shattered. He pulled her flush against him; hands gently cradling her face as his lips captured hers, pouring all his suppressed hunger into the kiss. His lips parted, tongue sweeping over hers — teasing, tasting, taking — until she clung to his shoulders, struggling to stay upright.

The moment she gave in, Harry deepened the kiss; hands trailing down her back, pulling her even closer. Each touch set fire to her skin, igniting something wild inside her. Beneath the searing heat of his touch, he was still the same Harry — intuitive, attentive. And she was craving more.

Aurora arched against him, her fingers threading through his tousled curls. Harry’s groan was low and approving as his hands tightened on her hips. What started as slow and tender quickly gave way to urgency, months of hidden desire pouring out, turning their need into something fierce and all-consuming. The room, once quiet, now pulsed with the desperate sound of their lips meeting, hands grasping, and she couldn’t help but wonder what other sounds their bodies could make.

The thought alone sent a fresh wave of heat through her, and before Aurora could stop herself — her hands moved down his chest, over his stomach, until her fingers brushed the hard, warm outline beneath his pants.

Harry broke the kiss with a groan; this time, with his open mouth against her cheek instead of her lips, and his hand gently pressed against hers to stop her from continuing.

The desire to pull him closer was overwhelming, but she remained still. “Just a little,” she murmured. “We don’t have to go all the way.”

“I think I’ve heard that before,” Harry chuckled, though it was strained against her. Aurora let out a huff in frustration, and Harry kissed her cheek, still breathing hard. “I know, baby, I know. But we can’t.”

“Harry, it’s fine. We don’t have to —”

“No, Aurora.” His voice cut through the air, hard and resolute. He pulled back just enough for the warmth between them to falter, and she had to fight the urge to reach out, to close the space again. “You’re under my roof, for God’s sake. Under my protection, not. . .” He exhaled sharply, raking a hand over his face.

“Do you regret it?”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Of course I don’t. That’s the problem.”

Her heart twisted, just a little, at that. “Well, I don’t either. So maybe we can just —”

“Aurora.” Harry’s tone left no room for argument. “If the circumstances were even slightly different, I wouldn’t be holding back. You would already be mine.”

Her breath caught. The confession was both a gift and a curse — her heart soaring and breaking all at once.

“As much as I want to pretend otherwise,” Harry continued, his voice thick with conviction. “This is our reality. And even if it costs me everything, I have to do what’s right here. I refuse to be the reason you get hurt — so please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Aurora let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “I’ve never come across a ‘right’ decision that felt so wrong.” Her voice wavered as she turned away from him, unable to face the look in his eyes. “And it’s too late for the hurt thing, Harry.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She wouldn’t give him that. Wouldn’t let him see how much she was breaking, even if he looked just as close to falling apart.

She had been feeling too much lately, and she despised it. It reminded her of being a child — small, powerless, watching as the world moved on without her say.

Harry took a careful step forward. “Baby, please don’t —”

“If you’re only coming closer to give me another reason why this can’t happen,” she cut in, her tone sharp, “then maybe you should just. . . leave. Get some rest.”

Throwing his own words back at him felt both satisfying and cruel. She wanted him to feel it, to sit in the weight of his own restraint. But she was still giving him an out — a chance to take it all back, change his mind.

And yet, things like this were never that easy. Nothing good ever was. Harry hesitated, and for a brief moment, she thought he might stay.

But then he exhaled, resigned. “Very well, then.”

She heard him turn toward the door, the quiet creak as he pulled it open.

“Aurora, I —”

“Just go.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Aurora sat motionless, arms wrapped around herself as if she could keep the pieces from falling apart. But the moment she exhaled, the fragile illusion of control shattered. The weight of it all — every unsaid word, stolen glance, moment — came crashing down at once.

She folded into herself, pressing her face into the pillow, her sobs muffled by the fabric. The grief clawed its way out of her chest, raw and jagged, shaking her to her core.

She had been holding in these emotions for too long.

And their love affair had been unbearably brief.

For the first time, she allowed herself to feel it all — the ache, the loneliness, the devastating truth that no matter how deeply she had fallen, love had never been theirs to keep.

Part Thirteen

A/N: some things need to get addressed before other areas can be. . . assessed, no? 🙈 thank you so much for reading angels, please be sure to share your thoughts here <3

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