valuunit
valuunit
hi
24 posts
20 D: she/her :p
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valuunit · 3 days ago
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teach me slowly series masterlist
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Summary: Harry doesn't mind waiting, as long as it's you he's waiting for. a harry styles x inexperienced!reader series
Status: Ongoing.
Based on: this ask!
Warnings: lots and lots of smut, please read the warnings for every part of this series accordingly! not sure how many parts this one will have yet, i'm basically figuring it out along the way. enjoy x
...
teach me slowly
Harry doesn't mind waiting, as long as it's you he's waiting for.
explore me slowly
Firsts aren't always easy. Lucky for you, Harry's got patience— and a plan.
more coming soon
...
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valuunit · 22 days ago
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i miss wattpad story trailers
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valuunit · 1 month ago
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concussions and interruptions au m.list
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ navigation
꩜ smut ❀ fluff 𖤓 angsty/angry 𖤐 funny
synopsis: when you accidentally meet harry's parents for the first time, they quickly learn that you're a very sweet girl, but you have a very complicated family. slytherin!reader
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✩ concussions and interruptions - You aren’t expecting to meet Harry’s parents for the first time while you share an intimate moment in the hospital wing after he sustains another quidditch injury (❀𖤐)
✩ after curfew - you and harry seem to forget his godfather is doing rounds when you sneak out after curfew (❀𖤐)
✩ it's a date - when harry and his parents see you in diagon alley, they are surprised to see the sudden change in behaviour you have at your parents' presence. but that won't stop harry from getting his kiss. (❀𖤓)
✩ heavy dresses, tight corsets - in the guise of having a sleepover with daphne, you go over to harry's house, where you can finally take this stupid dress off. (❀)
✩ people are watching - it seems that you begin to care less and less who gets to see the true side of your parents. and apparently, so do they. (❀𖤓)
✩ the talk - when james potter catches you and his son making out in his bedroom, he excitedly goes to tell his wife. but he isn't expecting her to call you both down for a talk no one can take seriously. (❀𖤐) COMING SOON
✩ pass the wrench - when james enters his living room and can't find harry to help him fix something, he decides you're fit to help with the job. after all, you're practically already his daughter in law. (❀𖤐) COMING SOON
✩ be my baby - another night at the potter household reveals that you love one of harry's least favourite songs, a.k.a his dad's all time favourite. (❀) COMING SOON
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valuunit · 1 month ago
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finding a camcorder with childhood videos is more embarrassing than i thought
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valuunit · 1 month ago
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Vicious 1 || Harry Styles x Mafia
After his father's death, Harry Styles must take control of the family mafia while dealing with his unpredictable brother, Silas. He meets Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, and learns about their arranged marriage.
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Author's note: Hi everyone, I need your help. I’m $1,000 short on my medical tuition, and the deadline is January 13. With 2,800 followers, even $1 from some of you could make a huge difference. If you’ve enjoyed my writing, please consider donating or sharing. I'M DESPERATE. PLEASE HELP ME! HELP ME HELP MY MOM! I don't know what else I can do. 
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vicious masterlist
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The air inside St. Anthony's Cathedral hung heavy with the scent of incense, a somber melody playing on the organ as mourners dressed in black filed into the pews. The grandeur of the cathedral seemed to amplify the gravity of the occasion—the funeral of the late mob boss, Arthur Francis Styles. The flickering candles cast shadows on the marble pillars, echoing the secrets and sins concealed within the heart of the city.
Amidst the sea of black-clad mourners, a solitary figure stood out—one of sons of the deceased, Harry. His sharp gaze, inherited from his father, scanned the room with a mix of grief and determination. The weight of his heritage rested upon broad shoulders, and the tailored suit he wore could not conceal the burden of responsibility that had been abruptly thrust upon him.
The funeral was a spectacle of contradictions. The cathedral, a symbol of divine sanctity, now played host to the final farewell of a man whose life had been entwined with shadows and whispered alliances. Harry’s eyes swept across the assembly, recognizing familiar faces, each harboring a tale of loyalty or betrayal. As he approached the casket to pay his respects, the gravity of his new role settled on his shoulders like a heavy cloak.
Arthur Styles’ passing had left a void, a vacuum that would inevitably draw power struggles and rivalries. Harry, the heir apparent, found himself at the epicenter of this storm. The funeral served not only as a farewell to his father but as the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter stained with blood, loyalty, and the unspoken code of the Mafia.
As Harry stood in the dimly lit cathedral, he felt the weight of his father's legacy press upon him, and the whispers of the past seemed to echo through the hallowed halls. The mournful hymns played on, but the symphony of the streets would soon drown them out, revealing the true nature of the shadows that lurked within the city's underbelly. The funeral was over, but the legacy of Arthur Styles would live on, casting a long, ominous shadow over Harry’s uncertain future.
Harry observed as his father's supposed friends and family offered their condolences, each reverently kissing the ring that adorned his father's lifeless hand. It was the very same ring around which they had sworn allegiance and loyalty, seeking resolution to their problems.
The wooden bench in front of him felt the weight of a pair of hands settling on its back. The distinctive ring on the third finger of those hands revealed the identity of the person without Harry needing to turn his head.
"Harry," Anthony started, his voice a subdued murmur blending with the somber atmosphere. "I never thought this day would arrive." Anthony, the younger brother of Harry's father, continued, "He appeared to have the capability of outliving all of us."
Harry nodded subtly but chose to keep his silence. His mind was a tumultuous sea of thoughts, and his head felt burdened, almost oppressively heavy. He was acutely aware that the path ahead would be arduous. His father had been grooming him for leadership since he could articulate words. Yet, Harry never anticipated ascending to power without his father by his side.
"Taking the reins of the English Mafia won't be a stroll in the park. Your father maintained a delicate balance, and stepping into his role makes you a target." His uncled warned.
Harry nodded solemnly, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. "I know. But someone always must lead."
Anthony's gaze bore into Harry's, a grave understanding passing between them. "You're right. But brace yourself—old alliances may crumble, and new foes will emerge. The English Mafia is a beast, and maintaining control is a constant struggle."
Harry surveyed the mourners, his gaze lingering on the faces of those present, contemplating the intricate challenges that loomed, he spoke, "I worry the most about the Italians and the Russians. Dad always said that dealing with them required finesse, and I'm not sure we've earned enough goodwill in those circles." The gravity of the situation hung in the air as he acknowledged the potential pitfalls that awaited them in the unpredictable world of the English Mafia.
"You can anticipate the maneuvers of the Italians and Russians, and they don't reside under your roof. Your brother, on the other hand..." A shadow fell over Anthony's countenance. "He's a wildcard, Harry. Young, impressionable, his allegiance might sway. Keep a vigilant eye on him, especially when you make your move. Not everyone in the family will readily embrace the change.”
A furrow deepened on Harry's brow. "You think Silas might turn against us?"
Anthony's response was as measured as the somber atmosphere around them. "In our world, blood doesn't guarantee loyalty. Silas has his own battles, and he might choose a different path."
Harry tightened his jaw, the mere thought of his younger brother betraying him causing his blood to simmer with anger. After their mother's passing, Harry had essentially taken on the role of raising Silas. Harry had played more of a father figure to Silas than Arthur ever did. Their father had shown minimal concern for Harry, the firstborn, which made Silas seem like nothing more than a contingency, a spare kept in reserve in case of some unforeseen tragedy.
Anthony leaned in, his gaze piercing. "I believe you will rule righteously, Harry. But be prepared for anything. The English Mafia is a game where pieces move without warning, and the stakes are higher than you can fathom." With that, he offered a reassuring pat on the back, bidding Harry farewell.
Harry bided his time, waiting patiently for the crowd to disperse, before rising from his seat. Straightening his suit blazer and fixing his tie, he approached the casket at the cathedral's end—the final resting place of his father. The familiarity of the suit caught Harry's eye, a garment he had seen his father wear countless times. A small blood stain near the boot of the pants, a detail his mother had frequently lamented, marked the attire. Suppressing a smile, Harry noted the irony that his father had been laid to rest in the suit his mother detested.
Leaning down, Harry whispered into his father's ear, "Omnes sumus peccatores," before deftly sliding the ring off his father's finger.
Chapter 2
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valuunit · 2 months ago
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so cute <3
PLAYER
A/N: this fic has been on my mind for over a week, but i just couldn't get it written the way i wanted, im still not entirely satisfied with it, but at least it's done and i didn't stop writing after the first paragraph like i did about six times lol
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
SUMMARY: Your roommate has locked you out of your room for a hookup, so you end up having to spend the night at Harry's, the boy you've been eager to keep yourself away from since you shared a rather passionate kiss. You 're convinced that the two of you do not belong together... right?
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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The place feels eerily empty even though there was a raging party happening just an hour ago, but now only the trash and leftover snacks and drinks reminds you of it all. You’re standing in the middle of the living room, arms folded over your chest as you assess the room, especially the couch. It seems comfortable enough to accommodate you for the night, but the wine stain in the middle is what concerns you the most. Maybe if you covered it with a blanket or something, it wouldn’t be that–
“Hope you’re not thinking about sleeping on that couch.”
Harry’s voice makes you jump, even though you’ve been hearing him moving around in the kitchen, collecting trash. He is still wearing the same black shirt he wore at the party, but most of the buttons are undone, giving you a great view of his tattooed chest and you can’t push down the memory of the feeling of it under your touch when you were kissing him just a few weeks ago. 
Nope, you cannot be thinking about that. You have to be strong, you remind yourself. That kiss is something that will never happen again, no matter how badly your body is aching for it. 
You and Harry do not belong together, that’s a fact. If you took that one passionate kiss further, that would result in a disaster, you’re certain about that. 
Your eyes snap up to his face, realizing you haven’t answered him and you have no doubt he knows what you’ve been thinking about, that tiny smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth is a tell he can see right through you, but you choose to ignore it. 
“I’ll be fine for just one night,” you nod, hoping to look a lot more confident than you feel right now. 
“Y/N, some freshman spilled a whole cup of wine on the cushion.”
“I can just… turn it around, it’s alright.”
“Okay, then you might want to know that I have caught Niall having sex on that couch several times.”
At that, your eyes widen and that makes Harry laugh. 
“And you let people sit on it, knowing his bare… parts rubbed on it?” You give him a disgusted look, but he just shrugs his shoulders with a smirk, grabbing two empty beer bottles from the coffee table. 
“You’d be surprised how many surfaces you’ve touched in your life that were used for sex.”
“Don’t even plant that thought into my head,” you hold a hand up. He disappears in the kitchen and you hear the rustling of a trash bag, then he returns with one in hand and he starts collecting the abandoned cups and glasses. You feel stupid just standing around, so you start helping him. 
“I’ll just sleep in this armchair,” you offer, pointing at the comfy looking furniture in the corner of the room, but as soon as you look at Harry, you know it’s out of the game as well. “Jesus, is there a surface in this place where he hasn’t had sex?” you groan.
“Yeah, in my room. So you’re sleeping in my bed.” Harry answers, like it’s nothing, when your heart just jumped at the thought of sharing a bed with him. 
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Okay, then I’ll take the couch then,” he sighs, but guilt bubbles in your gut instantly. You can’t make him sleep on that couch when he is doing you a favor by letting you stay here while your roommate is occupying your dorm room with a guy she met tonight. 
“No, I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sleeping on… that.”
“Then we are out of options, Y/N. We either sleep in my bed or one of us doesn’t sleep.” He tilts his head at you and something is telling you he already knows you’ll give in. 
Of course you will.
“Okay,” you say, shoulders falling forward in defeat. “Thanks,” you add, to which he just nods. 
You help him clean for a bit more, but at around four in the morning you both decide the mess can wait until the morning. 
Entering Harry’s room your pulse instantly jumps again, it feels way too intimate. Seeing his rumpled sheets, the pile of laundry next to his wardrobe, his books stacked on the shelves and on his desk, the little trinkets here and there and the few photos on the wall above his desk. But your gaze inevitably migrates towards the bed that you’re about to share with him. 
“You can pick a side,” Harry says as he moves over to his wardrobe and grabbing a t-shirt with a pair of shorts, he steps to you, holding the clothes out. “The white towel in the bathroom is clean, you can use it.”
“Thanks,” you take them, your cheeks burning when your fingers brush against his for a second. Your gaze wanders over to the bed again and this time he catches it.
“If you’re worried my bed has the same issue as the couch, I’ll let you know nothing has ever happened here.”
That’s not what you were thinking about, but his confession surprises you. Harry is known as the guy every girl wants to hook up with and you’ve heard several rumors of one night stands spent with him, told by different girls on campus. Yet he is now telling you no one has ever had sex in his bed, including him.
“Nothing?” you ask, eyebrows rising. “What about…”
“All the gossip?” He arches an eyebrow at you, almost in an annoyed manner that makes you shut your mouth immediately. “Most of them aren’t true. I’ve only hooked up with two girls from school, both happened in their rooms.”
“Two? I’ve heard way more than that,” you say and almost instantly want to take it back when you see a hint of sadness in his eyes, though it passes quickly. 
“I admit I kissed more than just two, but some girls like to spread stories that never actually happened.”
“And you let them?”
Harry shrugs, though something is telling you he is not that nonchalant about this as he shows. He turns his back to you as he is rummaging through the wardrobe, though you feel like he is just trying to keep himself busy with something so he doesn’t have to look you in the eyes.
“What’s the use in embarrassing them and calling them out on the lie? They must have their reasons to tell people all that shit.”
“So you just let them spread whatever they want about you?”
“It always dies down after a while and I save myself the energy. Besides, some might still think I’m just denying it. It’s not like I can prove that something never happened.”
You open your mouth, ready to throw him another question, but none comes. In a weird, twisted way you understand his reasoning even though you don’t agree with it fully. But thinking about it you realize that he is right that not everyone might believe him over the girls, especially not now that so many stories have gone around about his alleged hookups. Who would believe they didn’t even happen?
And the worst of it? That you believed them too, never questioning them, not even when you started getting to know him. It’s been one of your biggest concerns about Harry, that he is just a typical fuckboy who likes to fool around with girls and then move on to the next one.
It’s one of the reasons you’ve been talking yourself out of giving him a chance.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to say and for him it sounds like you’re sorry he is so misjudged, but in your mind, you’re saying sorry for being one of those who misjudged him. 
“It’s fine, I don’t really care,” he shrugs, finally looking you in the eyes. “So, you want to go first?” he asks, nodding towards the bathroom. 
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
The shower feels nice, but Harry’s clothes on you feel nicer. You stare at yourself in the fogged up mirror you tried to clean with your hand. The clothes he handed you were surely clean, but still, you can smell his scent on them and it messes with your head to have it lingering around you at all times. 
You wash your teeth with your finger and make sure you don’t look like a raccoon, wiping off all the mascara from under your eyes before unlocking the door and stepping out, holding your own clothes to your chest. 
Harry is lying on the bed, scrolling on his phone and when he sees you, he puts the phone to the night stand, rising from the bed. 
“Pick a side,” he smiles before disappearing in the bathroom and a few moments later you hear the water running. 
You still feel quite out of place in his room, but at last you put your clothes to the chair by his desk, your eyes wandering up to the photos on the wall. In the middle you see one with two women and you catch on the resemblance right away, guessing it’s his mom and sister he has told you about before. He has one more with each of them too, the rest is with friends, some you know from school, some seemingly unknown to you, probably from home. He is smiling in almost all of them, except a few candid ones. 
This is the side of him you’ve gotten to know lately and this is the one that’s been pulling you in for sure. A side you didn’t know he had when you only knew The Harry Styles people often talked about on campus. Guilt washes over you once again for being so judgy about him. When you met him by total accident in the beginning of the semester, sitting next to each other at Economics and getting paired up for an assignment you couldn’t imagine a version of himself that wasn’t a cliché, popular guy who probably thought he owned the campus just for looking good, but as time went by and you got to know him better you had to realize your assumptions weren’t as accurate as you thought, though they remained in the back of your head. Especially when things started taking a different turn at a party a few weeks ago and you ended up making out in a dark room. It was probably the most passionate kiss you’ve ever gotten, but once the haze wore off panic settled in and you ran. 
Something in you convinced you that he just wants to hook up with you and nothing more, that he would throw you away once he got what he wanted so you told him it’s never happening and you two will only stay friends. 
He didn’t protest, though you saw something in his eyes that had you unsettled, maybe sadness, maybe disappointment, you couldn’t tell for sure, because it was gone quickly. 
You expected him to never talk to you again, but he was just as friendly to you in and out of class as before, though you could feel a sense of coldness in him that wasn’t there before. You’ve spent the past few weeks trying to convince yourself you and Harry would never work out, but now it seems like the biggest bullshit you’ve ever thought of. Harry has proven that he is not the guy people like to gossip about and now you feel like a jerk for never even giving him the chance. 
The bathroom door opens and you turn around, seeing him walk out in nothing else but a pair of boxer briefs. He steps to the wardrobe and grabs a white t-shirt, pulling it on while you try to gulp with a dry mouth. When he turns around you quickly try to pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Walking over to the bed you take the opposite side of where he laid before and you’re quick to get under the sheets, pulling them up to your neck. Harry shuffles around the room for a bit before getting in bed as well and when the mattress dips under his weight, your heart is beating in your throat. 
You’re so tired, you’d probably fall asleep right away if you closed your eyes, but you also kind of don’t want to sleep just yet, not when Harry is lying right next to you. 
“Thanks again for letting me stay,” you say, turning to your side to face him. 
“Well, you kind of just stayed without asking…”
At first your eyes widen, thinking that’s what happened, but then you see the cheeky smile spreading on his face and you know he is just messing with you. 
“Shut up! I did ask if I could stay and you said yes!” Laughing, you try to smack his head, but he is quick to grab your wrist, tugging on you a little so you end up moving closer to him. 
“You know I would always say yes to you, Y/N.”
The laughing has ended and your face is so close to his, you can feel his breath on your skin. His hand is still holding your wrist and your heart is pounding against your chest when your gaze drops to his lips for a moment. 
But then you completely chicken out. 
Clearing your throat, you pull back and Harry lets go of your wrist as you lie back to your pillow. 
“Great, now I know who to ask for help if I need to hide a body,” you try to joke, but it only pulls a smile from him before he reaches for the light switch and flicks it, darkness falling over the room. 
“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs and you feel him move around a bit before he stills and you’re left staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how you could be such a dumbass. 
Then you close your eyes and let sleep take away the shame. 
When you wake the next time, it’s still not fully bright outside, the early dawn is casting just enough light on the room for you to make out where you are, but it takes you a few moments to realize that it’s not your dorm room, but Harry’s bedroom. 
Then the next realization is that you’re hugging something warm that’s soft on the outside, but hard on the inside and you have to assess your surroundings for a minute before you make out what it is. You’re lying on your side in Harry’s bed, hugging his forearm like a teddy bear, your face resting in his palm while he is sleeping next to you, lying on his side, his face mushed into his pillow just inches away from yours. 
He looks like an angel, so calm and soft, you just want to reach out and touch his face, run your fingers through his curls. But instead, you tighten your hold on his arm, running a hand over it gently, sliding it between his hand and the pillow, cupping the back of his hand. 
He stirs in his sleep and you still, not wanting to wake him up, but then he opens his eyes the tiniest bit and you expect him to pull his hand back, but he doesn’t move. 
“You okay?” he asks, voice groggy and so fucking sexy, you almost let out a sigh. 
“Yeah,” you nod into his hand.
He nods as well, closing his eyes, ready to go back to sleep, thinking you’ll do the same, but suddenly, you feel wide awake. 
“Harry?” you whisper, though you have no idea what you want to tell him.
“Hm?” he hums, keeping his eyes closed. You don’t answer him and you think he has fallen back asleep, but then he opens his eyes again, looking at you in the dim light. “What is it?”
Reaching out with his other hand he brushes your hair out of your forehead before letting it drop between your faces as he waits for you to speak, but the words are dead on your tongue, you’re way too lost in him. 
So you decide to act instead. 
Before you could give it a second thought you start moving, closing the distance between the two of you, your lips pressing against his. 
At first it stops there, just lips touching, unsure what is going to happen next and you start doubting yourself right when his lips open and he takes the kiss further without hesitation. 
It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get fully tangled, in the sheets and in each other as well, the warmth under the covers is increasing rapidly, especially when his hands slip under your (his) shirt, running up and down your back while hook a leg over him, trying to press up against him as close as possible. At one point you roll around so that he is above you, his hips wedging between your thighs and you can’t hold back the sigh that slips past your lips when you feel just how much he wants you right now and it just riles you up even more. 
He starts kissing down your neck, gently sucking and nipping at the tender skin over your collarbone while you keep raking through his hair with your eager fingers, your hips involuntarily rolling against him, desperate for more friction. Your hands move down, bunching the fabric of his shirt, tugging it up on his body and when he finally pulls back from you, he is quick to rid himself of it, throwing it to the side. 
It’s not your first time seeing him without a shirt on, but the effect it has on you is major now, especially because you get to reach out and touch him, feel the soft, warm skin that stretches over his hard muscles. 
To match his lack of clothing your shirt comes off pretty fast as well before Harry comes down, above you, his lips reconnecting with yours in a demanding kiss. But as heated as it started, it slowly starts to die down until the kiss ends entirely and he is clearly holding himself back, but you have no idea why. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his forehead. 
“I just…” He exhales heavily, shaking his head before looking at you. “I don’t want you to wake up and… regret it and change your mind. If we go back to being friends after this, I would rather just… not have it happen.”
Your chest aches at his words, the hurt now clearly visible in his expression, it’s apparent just how much you fucked up when you judged him by what other people tell about him. You were so damn stupid. 
Cupping his face between your hands you pull him down for a short, sweet kiss before speaking up.
“I’m sorry for being such a coward. I was afraid all you want is just… some fun and then you’d move on. I was proven wrong.”
“I’m not who people think I am.”
“I know that now,” you smile at him bashfully. “And… I want to see where this could go.”
It’s silly to feel nervous admitting that you want more with him when you’re literally half naked, in bed, with clear signs that he wants you as well, but still, your pulse picks up as Harry just stares down at you. 
Then slowly, a sweet smile spreads across his lips that mirrors on your face as well, easing the nerves almost instantly and when he leans down, clearly with the intention of kissing you, but using the sudden boost of confidence, you push him onto his back, throw a leg over him and get on top of him. You see a spark of excitement in his eyes and his palms are quick to run over your back, teasing the elastic of your bralette that’s still on you. His gaze wanders down your body as well and he thrusts his hips upward just enough to earn a moan from you at the sensation. 
“You better not be playing with me, Styles,” you warn him as you lean forward, lips brushing against his, but not kissing him just yet. 
“I’m not a player when it comes to you,” he answers, his gaze locked with yours and for a second you feel like you can see into his soul. With a relieved smile, you finally kiss him and after weeks of battling your own desires you finally give in and let yourself fall right into Harry’s arms. 
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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valuunit · 2 months ago
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summary: after their night together, Harry interrupts a cheeky breakfast, where Niall and Y/n couldn’t stop laughing.
Content: She/her pronouns. Y/n has, confusing feelings, angst(?)
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there's any mistake I'm sorry, please let me know so i can correct it !!!
part 1
I wake up early enough to hear the birds singing but the kind of singing that’s concerning. By now Harry was long gone and i felt at peace yet a bit bummed.
I don’t know why we keep doing this, it’s kind of fucked up if i think too much about it, so I don’t.
I’m tired but bored and when that happens I like to take a walk or a run or when i’m at home, a ride my skateboard.
So I get up, shower in 10 minutes, put my hair in a ponytail and change in a pair of shorts, a tank top and a good hoodie over it.
I walk to the door and then put a pot of random dad sneakers on. I get out of my room, and hotel while I text my manager and Louis my location.
At the very front of the building i see a couple of people with those cameras with white lenses and I hope that they don’t recognize me. They don’t for some reason.
I google if there are parks near here, and the is one just 5 minutes away. The city in this exact part is kind of quiet, I take a couple of pictures for my mom and my overflowing phone.
I stroll through a roughly made path. I see around 6 people in the last 30 minutes. A couple with a baby stand out for me, I’m not sure if they looked in love and living their best life or if their life is a lie and they hate each other.
I like to do that, judge a book by its cover, sometimes nailing it right and center. Of course I do it as a hobby and it actually helps with social anxiety.
When I met Harry I saw him as a sweet and charismatic asshole. Then he proceeded to spill his drink on my white tank top and said “Oh, I’m so sorry, really sorry. I didn’t want to be so obvious about wanting to see your bra.” His tone was apologetic, nervous for regaining control.
And I don’t know why I recall him first thing in the morning, maybe because he was inside me hours ago. I would really like to stop, but he’s worst than nicotine. At least I quit that one.
At 7 and something I was back at the hotel, I wasn’t as hungry as I wanted to make the most out of the buffet, so my room was my next destination.
On the way to the elevator I see a pair of eyes with the best lashes in the world.
“Zayn? Hi.” I say briefly, not trying to disturb him much, he’s eyes are tired and look at the exit as an oasis in the middle of the Sahara.
“Hi, Hi, Y/n.” he steps out of the vintage looking elevator, I expect him to pass me by, he stops defeated. His whole demeanor makes me lean towards him, trying to give some sort of comfort.
“Are you okay?”
“I, I’m going home. I’m fine, thanks.”
“Oh, okay. Safe travel. Do you have a cab waiting?”
He squints and stops himself to face palm. I would’ve smiled if he didn’t looked so truly broken. I caress with doubt his arm.
“Don’t worry, it’s a quick fix, let me do it. To the airport I assume.” He nods with his head slouched. “C’mon, we can wait at the entry.” I have the feeling he’s running from something in the building.
I dial a phone my manager gave me. The cab is coming in 3 minutes. And those pass by slow and sorrowful, I look at the road and Z at the floor. When I see the white car approach I turn to him and extend my arms a bit.
“I don’t know if you need it, but can I hug you?”
He let go of his suitcase and went for it. His arms surrounded over my shoulders, his feet made 2 little steps closer, his head rested over mine, his mind went to another place.
He didn’t said anything, not shared anything at all, but left a weight on my shoulders that ran down like water in a matter of seconds. Maybe he felt better after, I never knew.
The cab left with him, like an emergency helicopter returning his body home.
At around 8 I went back to the hotel’s restaurant. My clothes are more airport and anonymous coded, sweatpants, hoodie and cap, Cap indoors I don’t care. The staple for a self centered famous fucker. Me.
Louis texted me about him having to go back to London with Liam, apparently they got lectured on the phone for ‘letting’ Zayn go. I want to his room to say goodbye and a big hug. Liam wast already at the lobby.
Due to the season, a good english breakfasts lays on my mind. I send a picture to ma and make her feel obligated to greet me with a better thing that the one that I got here, something she won’t achieve, but i love her.
“Already on the spirit, aren’t ya”
I smile instantly. “You know it, they just are missing your ma’s brown bread”
“If I tell her you miss her, she will drive to you porch to get you the bread if i did.” he laughs getting a plate of fruit.
“Oh, i love her.”
“Now shut up.” I laugh manically.
We sit down close to a corner. A table with 5 chairs for some reason.
“Do you have your Christmas gifts yet?” I ask him with a piece of toast on my hand.
“I do, actually. Been collecting stuff that people mention and buying it.”
“That a good strategy, definitely rich energy, but works”
He rolls his eyes and chews his strawberry. One that looks juicy. I extend my hand to take one, he side eyes me and smiles, nodding as pushing his plate.
“Thank you gentlemen.”
“Do you have your gifts?”
“Yeah! I finally figured that making an effort to buy in advance is way easier.”
“I will never forget receiving an amazon gift card.”
“I apologize for the 13th time.” I bow.
“Nah, it’s fine, I actually got Greg his ‘missing’ present”
“‘appy to help.”
He goes for his second plate, this one having substantial breakfast food.
“Hey, I was told you were writing with Louis?”
“You’ve been told by Louis?” I say smiling. He nods. “I mean, yes, I’ve been writing poems for a long time but i’m not talented to sing.”
“That’s not true.” He drags.
“No because it is. One time I was casted on a series episode for my ‘bad singing voice’”
He looks at me and tightens his lips. Smiling.
“No, laugh, it is actually hilarious.” I say dry, but truly and genuinely hilarious.
He’s signature over the top and contagious laugh makes me stop acting and join him.
The terrible screeching sound of an old chair being pulled back by a lazy fucker mede us turn. Turn to my immediate left, where there he was, in all of his glory. Morning Harry, with jeans, a white t-shirt and glasses hanging from the collar. I hate to say it, but he looks good. I would say really good if it weren’t for a nasty hickey peaking from his neck that was not mine, i don’t do hickeys, i don’t get hickeys. And i do not care.
“Mornin’” he says quietly, grabbing Y/n’s cup of coffee, one with three little pots of cream, with the practically 50 that Niall asked for from a passing waiter.
“Hi” Niall says, confused.
“I appreciate it.” Y/n smiles tight lipped. When Harry returns it she pushes the mug back to him, this makes Niall laugh with a mouthful of beans.
A second of the sound of people eating and chatting passed. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, we were talking about Christmas. You have you gifts yet?” as Niall responds, I feel his knees, Harry’s, brushing against mine, soft put intentional, i slap it, he doesn’t make an effort to move.
“Some of ‘em, I got a karaoke machine with auto tune four you.”
“Ha, thank you, I got writing classes for you.”
No one laughed, so I ate, so did Niall. I would’ve normally laughed, but something is bothering me, maybe that he had an instant hickey after sleeping with me, or that I was having a cosy time with Niall before.
However, Niall finishes his plate quickly, just around the time I finish. Small talk between Niall and Harry fills my uncomfortable ass.
“Aren’t you having breakfast?” Niall smiles at Harry.
“Nah, had plenty to drink yesterday.”
“Also had plenty of that yesterday?” Y/n pint to his collar.
He smugly scoff. “You know it.” pursing his lips. Looking out the foggy window.
“Well, you wanna go? We have time before the flight.” Niall comically opens his eyes, signaling to the foe with his blonde head. Harry looks at a standing Niall, then to you. Unable to mouth “what flight?”.
“Sure. Still have some shopping to do.” I smile.
“Wanna come by?” Niall tells Harry, he denies with a bit of a mood. He’s leaning back on the expensive chairs posture changes to him being upright, still dunking my coffee sips like the habit of an english bloke.
“Alright, I’ll pay, eat whatever you want.” I pass by him, Niall follows me, I feel his hand on the small of my back, not quite touching me, more my hoodie.
16 notes · View notes
valuunit · 2 months ago
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1
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summary: i don’t know what im doing, i have free time and craving a good old fashioned fanfic with a love corner 🤓
Content: She/her pronouns. situationship, confusing feelings, smut (mdi), alcohol consumption, hand job, spit, angst(?)
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there's any mistake I'm sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D
I don’t know how it happened but this has become a series: part two.
“Thank you very much guys. It’s been really nice having you in the show.” a thick german accent thanks me and my co-star.
“No, thank you for having us tonight, it was really fun.” says Sam. I simply nod, wanting to go to my changing room and take of this ginormous fake lashes.
I follow one of the staff members, Hannah, to my room. “Hey, slow down there.” Sam Claflin says chuckling “Wanted to say bye by any chance?”
“Actually no.” i say playing. I reach to his cheek and kiss him goodbye, this was our last press interview to promote the movie, it was a nice ride. “Loved working with you, hope i didn’t tired you as much as you tired me.”
“Of course you did, Y/n/n. But actually wasn’t that bad. See you later?” i nod, from here we weren’t seeing each other for a couple of months until the premiere, he will go visit some family and i…
“See you.” i smile. I enter to my dressing room, there’s barely anything, just a chair with my other clothes, a small mirror with a shelf as a table underneath it and an empty closet.
As an instinct i check my phone, it’s been two hours since i saw it. three messages instantly pop out of the millions of youtube notifications.
‘Mom: Hope you are okay!! Send me cute photos of Berlin 😊😊🙏’
i laugh at it and quickly respond: ‘okay mommy, when i have the chance i will’
‘Louhgis: CLOWN I HEARD YOURE IN BERLIN, IM ALSO HERE SO COME SEEE MEEEEE’
‘who are you? please stop contacting me.’
and after it is a message from someone i haven’t talk in like three months. ‘Harry S: you’re in berlin. wanna see?’
I take a couple of minutes to reply, it’s a bad idea, i know, i just don’t really care.
A couple of minutes turn into tens and even a respond from Louis. ‘Loughis: ‘Your good and handsome friend Louis THE Tomlinson, please 😙✌️. Me and the lads are going to be at the Curtain club.’
‘oh, yeah… i’ll see you there 🙃’
‘Loughis: 🙃’
i give a final chuckle and respond to Styles.
‘maybe. i heard you’re gonna be at Curtain’s”
He responds in a matter of less than a minute.
‘Harry S: yes. stalker much?’
‘you’re annoying.’
‘Harry S: sure honey, so see you at the bar?’
‘maybe.’
Shit.
I arrive at the bar, it’s nicer and emptier than i expected, it’s not really the scene for a bunch of 20 somethings, it’s more for a bored dad or a business meeting place.
“Oi. Y/n/n! Here!” ah, that voice. I look at one of my only true friends in the world, he hugs me and says. “I’ve missed you giggles.”
“I’ve miss you, nugget.” i kiss his cheeks, he also does.
“Here is Harry, Niall and Liam.”
“Zayn?”
“Said he was tired, stayed at the hotel.” he says sadly.
“Oh, i hope he gets better.” he nods but leads me to the rest of the guys, here are at least five other girls who look stunning and some staff and bodyguards.”
“Hi, Y/n/n.” Niall is quick to leave his drink and head to me. Carefully placed his hand in my back, not too low, not too high, and leaned into a kiss, i think i’m well known as a cheek kisser more than a formal greeter.
“Hi, Nialler. Love the glasses.” i smile, he does look good in glasses.
“Thanks.” whispers.
“Hi, Y/n Y/l/n.” Harry is next in the line. He just waves his hand from his seat at the high bar. Very inauspicious Styles. I look at Louis who is uncomfortable at his friend and bandmate’s attitude.
“You’re rude Harry. Hi, Y/n. Nice seeing you.” Thank you Liam, that was awkward. I hug him.
“You too!”
I’ve been chatting with Louis for a couple of hours but he ended up going back to the hotel, management needed him. So since i’ve been with Niall and the bartender.
My phone rings when exactly an hour after engaging with the conversation. ‘Harry S: see you in the parking in 5 minutes’
I excuse myself to the bathroom.
‘okay, see you there in 6 minutes.’
‘Harry S: funny!.’
On my way to the restroom i hear his low voice say “Bye guys. I’m going to the club i told ya.”
“Don’t have too much fun!” a girl said giggling.
“Yeah!” Niall said.
I see him and a bodyguard exit the building slowly.
After two minutes, i counted, i go to say bye to everybody. Niall made me swear to write him when i get to my hotel.
“I’ve missed…” he kisses my neck and my heart jumps. “I’ve miss this.” he roams his hands along my sides.
“Shut up.” i whisper with my breath stuttering.
“I would tell you the same, i don’t want to wake up the neighbors.”
His teeth takes my lower lip, i moan, he grunts.
“I will take these off.” and he takes my top, then my pants, i’m just in my cherry pattern panties. He stays looking at them for a second before he whispers “i like them.”
“thanks i also do, don’t take them please.” i smile grabbing his hair and kissing him again, i don’t want to talk or i’ll get too sappy.
“i won’t this time, Louis discovered the last pair.”
“Jesus…” i laugh uncomfortable. i was going to say that it must not be a weird occurrence in his life.
“Yeah…” his lips return to my uncovered breasts but my mind goes to my previous thought, i’m just one of ‘his girls’. when i just want him to myself.
“Y/n?”
“Hm?”
“I asked if you wanted to take my clothes off.” he says softly. i didn’t noticed when we got to the bed.
“Oh. Sure.” i say shortly, making my way to sit on his lap, unbuttoning his jeans.
“Gee, don’t act as if i’m offering you a crisp.” he laughs, i don’t.
“I’m sorry.” i keep my eyes on his crotch, but don’t do anything else.
“What? No, i was joking… are you okay?” he takes my hand and puts them in his shoulders, also holds my face gently.
“Yeah. Let me do my work.” i say returning my attention to his clothes, specifically taking them off.
“Hey, i see you distracted. We don’t have to do this…”
“But i want to.” To spend the night with you.
“Okay…”
“Okay.” i smile at him to reassure my answer. he looks at my eyes and smiles before looking at the mirror at the side of the bed that seamed more interesting than me.
Once his tight jeans were around his ankles he seemed to focus in me, or a least my actions. He hugged my back with one hand and my hips with the other as he kicked his pants completely of.
My body seems to enter in the fucking mood like a switch was turned on, my hands push his shoulders to lay him down. They also snake down his with tshirt, softly caressing his sides, going down towards his dick. Palming over his dark blue briefs.
He exhales with a bit of shake to it. I just continue to pleasure him. Even if he is fully erect, a bit of attention never hurts. I plush his boxers just under his dick, purposely touching it with my finger.
“You’re taking your time, huh?”
I just nod and continue. Even with a bit of his precum already oozing out of him, it needs more lubrication.
My hand goes to my mouth, discreetly letting some spit scape my mouth. His emerald eye follow every movement as if they were in slow motion. He smiles as my lips shut looking juicer.
My hand begins to stroke from the base al the way to the tip, teasing in the spot i know he loves.
“Careful with what you do, I may take revenge.”
“Sure, pretty boy.” He tightly smiles as I push my eyebrows up and my hand works slowly back up again.
I stay massaging at a moderate pace, making sure to make him pay his past teasing, about two moths ago. I ended up crying at the despair, it was kind of fun.
“I get it, darling, i’ve paid for my sins.” He says in a strained voice. I laugh more genuinely than i wanted, stopping.
“Do you have a condom?”
“You know i do.”
“Extra small, i suppose.” I joke, still sitting on his lap, watching his large torso reach for the foiled packet. I see with almost white teeth show.
“If that makes you feel calmer, yeah.” he’s laying down under me now, between his pointer and middle finger stays the condom. He looks a bit spaced out, even high, but in a way that his features are relaxed, his smile is natural and charming, and his body seems at peace.
While I debate with myself to stop staring, he tuns us around, inverting out positions. He takes my panties off, we’re the trace of my excitement is apparent. He smiles.
“I’m sure we can keep going. Feel ready?” I nod with my blushing cheeks, i know i’m a people pleaser, but being this wet over a hand job makes me a bit embarrassed.
Since the beginning of this situation, or whatever it’s called, we’ve been very aware of each other, being as communicative as possible in bed, having the others confort in mind. But this time, this specific event in time, it’s extra careful and intimate, i didn’t even thought about until know, that his hand goes behind my neck, with his thumb caressing my hot cheek.
I feel extra observant and observed, with a slow pace that i think we’ve never experienced, or thought of going, but somehow we’re on the same page, he takes his boxers off, places the condom and passes his open hand between my breasts, stomach, opens my legs and softly spreads my wetness from my entrance to my clitoris, making around three circles before kneeling between my legs.
“Do it Styles.”
“Ah, there’s something missing to the sentence.”
“I will not say it.” I look at him smugly.
“Okay, next time, then.” He says before kissing my lips, once, twice, three times. Then entering straight and slowly into me.
I moan with his lips still on mine, my hand goes behind his neck, grabbing son of the small hairs there.
His mouth makes the noise of passing saliva before he starts moving rhythmically. The frictions makes my senses tingle and my back arch a bit, looking for a bit of closeness, more.
He lets about breaths, grunts and moans between kisses al around my face and neck.
I don’t know how, but his pace seems to specifically make me cum as quickly as possible. And with that my mouth becomes louder, so does his. My hands hug him around his neck, and his sneak around my waist, pressing me against his torso completely.
“I feel you close, cum, darling. Do it.” His deep voice is like a guide that makes me crumble.
“H…” I stop myself from naming him, pressing my lips together, arching myself and finishing. As he keeps going to finish himself.
“Yeah…” He shakes a bit, and i move a bit to help him out finish quicker. Then i feel warmth in me, th condom stopping it.
Like that, we stay laying down for maybe 3 minutes. Then he stands, goes to the bathroom and composes himself. I stay on the bed waiting to do the same myself.
“Shut that off…”
“I’m going to shut you off.” I whisper taking my phone. It was a call from Niall Horan.
“Whose calling now?” he groans and turns away.
I quickly get up and click answer, i go to the balcony to chat in peace.
“Y/n/n! I was getting worried.” he whispers as he was trying not to wake up someone, probably Zayn.
“I’m sorry, Ni. I fell asleep as soon as i laid in bed.”
“It’s okay” he laughs. “I’m pretty sure your day was exhausting.”
“A little bit” i giggle at his choice of doing conversation at 4 am. “but it’s okay, its better than doing nothing.”
“Oh, the grinder mindset, i love it” I laugh hard.
“Sorry, Horan. I know you prefer to stay playing guitar and eating, that’s just you, not me” he sights, he sounds tired.
“You’d love it if you had the opportunity to try it” he added. “What about i present it to you?” i know he is smirking.
“Oh, what a gentleman, i’d love to. You have a break coming soon, right?”
“Yeah!” he almost screams, then he lowers his voice after saying a sorry. “You also have free time?”
“Yep.”
“Are you visiting your family? We could meet up there! Even go together, my flight is on Wednesday.”
“Yes! I could change my flight, it leaves tomorrow.”
“Oh, are you sure? I wouldn’t like to mess with your-”
I interrupt him quickly. “Don’t worry, it’s no problem, I would like company, especially if its you.” I don’t know why i say it.
“H…a, okay, then it’s done, we leave on Wednesday. Now, sleep, maybe we see each other at breakfast.”
“Same thing to you, brunette.”
“Okay, i hate you, bye.”
We laugh a second. “Bye” I finalize.
part 2
30 notes · View notes
valuunit · 3 months ago
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Teenage Dirtbag*
Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.
Word Count: 5.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!
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“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”
“27.”
“Harry, come on.”
“What?”
“I need an answer.”
“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”
Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be studying.”
“We are.”
“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"
“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?” 
“Mm.”
“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”
“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”
“27.”
“Harry.”
He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”
He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”
“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”
“Oh, did I? Oops.”
“You’re mean.”
“Yeah. But you like me.”
“Not right now.”
“Yes now. Always.”
You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”
“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”
“Harry—”
“What, angel?”
You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”
“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”
“We agreed to study.”
“We are.”
“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”
“So?”
“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”
“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.
You grab the cards. “Oops.”
Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat. 
“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”
“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”
“Because I have you.”
“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”
“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”
You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”
“Mm…for now.”
“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”
Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”
“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”
You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”
“What? They’re just words, baby.”
“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”
He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”
You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”
“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”
“Harry…”
“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”
You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”
“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”
You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.
You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.
His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.” 
Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”
He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it. 
The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.
However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.
Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.
“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”
“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.
“I know. But today is not that day.”
Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.
“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.
You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.
He winks.
With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.
And every trace of Harry has gone.
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“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”
“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”
“Deal.”
You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.
Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present. 
You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.
Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.
But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.
You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.
He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.
And that’s when he finds you.
Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.
He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.
“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”
A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.
“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”
Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.
Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.
And the same earrings you’re wearing now.
But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”
You smirk. “You guess?”
“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”
To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.
“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”
You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”
“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”
“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.
He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.
He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before. 
Compared to them, you’re just…you.
Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.
You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.
“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”
You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.
“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”
“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”
“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”
You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”
You lean back. “You saw?”
“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”
“H…”
“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”
He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” 
You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret. 
And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.
And you’ll be devastated.
Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.
He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.
Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.
“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”
“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”
Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”
He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”
“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”
“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”
“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress. 
You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you. 
You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”
Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”
“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”
The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.
“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.
You swallow. “…yes.”
“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”
You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”
“Mhm. Not Zack.”
“No. No, not Zack.”
He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”
Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…
You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.
He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.
He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.
“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”
“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”
And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.
You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.
And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.
His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still. 
You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.
“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”
You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”
“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”
And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside. 
You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.
But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.
“What…what did I do?” you pant.
He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”
He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”
“I…I know.”
“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”
You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”
“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”
“Oh…”
His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”
Your lips part. “You…oh.”
“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”
“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”
It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”
Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.
And that’s your favorite part.
“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”
You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants. 
He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”
You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.
You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking. 
“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”
You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”
You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body. 
You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”
Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.
The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.
And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.
But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again. 
And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.
“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”
“Mm…mhm.”
“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”
With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.
“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”
You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.
“Okay. Keep going.”
You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them. 
“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”
“Ye—yeah.”
“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”
Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it. 
And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again. 
The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.
Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.
“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”
You only mewl. Loud and incoherent. 
He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.
His bandana.
It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.
“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”
Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”
“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”
Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.
“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”
You nod.
“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”
Your lashes flutter.
“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”
Another nod, slower.
“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”
Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.
The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth. 
Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric. 
He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more. 
And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.
“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”
You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum. 
“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”
Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.
“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”
You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.
So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.
Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling. 
He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.
He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”
He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.
You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything. 
And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either. 
“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.
You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”
“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”
“Mhm. Very.”
“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”
“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”
His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”
“Mm…unlikely.”
“But maybe.”
“Maybe not.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Might hurt.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”
“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”
“Tell her you’re staying.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”
“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”
The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”
His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”
He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.
Until the door opens.
And Zack walks in.
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God I love fratrry 😭💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry
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valuunit · 4 months ago
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how is it that even in you’re best moment, your brain is always like “but do you deserve it?”
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valuunit · 5 months ago
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who are we
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Yoo, this is angstyyy, and written in a couple hours, not my best, but thanks We Live In Time
I should’ve known the answer, the fucking end determined by, a simple word, yet often misunderstood.
We weren’t young, but we were somehow naive, even if we told ourselves we weren’t, deep and unconsciously, we were thinking about the oh so beautiful and dreamy romantic love.
Our differences weren’t so clear if we were in love, our careers could wait if we were in love, we couldn’t die if we were in love.
I remember the words “I’d rather have a couple incredible and amazing month, than many boring and regular others.” And we stood by that.
In the first month we met our families, then traveled, many places, which were witness of our utter, pure and intense love. We had each other’s company for the longest time, yet we were not bored, we said; we knew each other, we said; we loved each other, everyone agreed.
Months passed, we saw many versions of the same sunset or night skies, we shared arms, kisses, dreams, souls. I remember almost everything, and yet it feels like it’s missing something always, feedback, maybe.
Life, as much as we tried to stop it, got to us, and despite our attempts, we had to be apart. My friends said its was healthier, and it was, but unbearable.
In an effort to go back to the past, I booked us a trip, no plan, no luggage, just us. It was supposed to be romantic.
Excited. Nervous. Rushed. We landed, it was almost 10 pm. An antique, elegant hotel received us, we didn’t use the ropes to sleep.
At 9 am the next day, I woke up, determined to find an expensive, obvious piece of jewelry I thought was missing.
Two people helped me pick it out, a thin gold ring, supporting a moderately sized rare almost yellow diamond, refined to perfection to fit the love of my life. I also picked out a special box made of a particular type of wood I don’t remember, that looking at it now, resembles a coffin.
On my way to the hotel a call from my accountant asking me if I was robbed, I declared my love on the line, leaving them to don’t ask anything else.
We head out for a walk, we ate, we kissed, yet I felt anxious, I just wanted to ask the $1000000 question, I wanted that for life.
At our beloved sunset time, I’ve had enough. I kneeled beside the railing of the oriel.
“Will you marry me?”
The pause, you grabbed your chest, and finally said.
“No.”
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valuunit · 7 months ago
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this is so fucking good
my darling
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synopsis: a love triangle
word count: 10.8k
contains: angst angst angst, love triangle, mfm, best friends to lovers, boarding school, violence, unrequited love,
a/n: i wrote this for wattpad during the My Policeman era. I wanted to post it here after re-reading it. I remember this being one of the first pieces of fanfic i felt super proud of !! warning it is pretty sad
. . .
Then — 1996
Dear Diary,
Today we moved into our new home in Halton. It’s small, quaint, and quiet—very quiet. The kind of place where everyone seems set in their routines, the same patterns repeating every day. I already miss London. Mum says this will be good for us, though. Good to get away from the drama. Good to get away from Dad.
The house isn’t as big as our old one. I have to share a room with Delilah now, but it’s fine—I’ll be off to boarding school by the end of the summer. Mum says I’ll enjoy it since she went to the same school at my age, but I think she’s just trying to make me feel better. Who actually enjoys living at school?
It’s a three-hour drive from Halton, which feels like a world away. I’m nervous, excited, sad, and happy all at once. The feelings are so overwhelming they all blur together into something I can only describe as... heavy. Like my life is a snow globe someone’s just shaken up, glitter falling everywhere. It looks magical at first, but the reality is you’re stuck cleaning it up for weeks, finding it in the oddest places long after.
I miss my dog. I never got to say goodbye.
Dad cried when we left. I’ve never seen him cry before. He told me it wasn’t goodbye, just a "see you later." Mum always says Dad’s a good liar, but I don’t think he was lying this time. Maybe it was the tears—they don’t suit him.
-
Dear Diary,
Today I moved into my dorm at Southend Park School.
Mum was annoyed we had to wake up before seven to pack the car and drive me down, even though this was all her idea. She’s probably just tired—or maybe something else. I have a suspicion she’s met someone. I’m not sure how she moved on from Dad so quickly. Did she ever really love him?
My dorm has six girls, including me. I’ve mostly been talking to Ellis, who’s in the room next door. She’s fourteen, older than the rest of us, but only because her birthday is the 1st of September. Today’s the third, so her advantage is technical, but she likes to remind us.
Being alone here scares me, but it’s nothing new. Delilah always had loads of friends, and Dad was always working. Mum was usually out socializing, too.
Mum cried as we finished unpacking, promising she’d pick me up for half-term or that I could come home anytime. But I don’t want to go home. I hate it there.
Tomorrow is a full day of inductions, and I’m worried about making friends. Southend Park is a mixed school, and boys make me nervous. I’d rather have no friends at all than feel like I have to pretend to be someone I’m not.
I still feel like I’m picking up glitter from months ago. I wonder when it will finally stop.
-
Dear Diary,
I made two friends. You’ll never guess—they’re boys!
Their names are Harry and Dylan. They’re both thirteen, like me, but they feel older somehow. They even live in the same dorm and invited me over this weekend.
We met during lunch in the courtyard. I was sitting alone when Dylan walked up first, chatting easily and cracking jokes. Harry followed behind, much quieter. Dylan has blond hair and a small scar on his eyebrow from climbing trees back in Morston. Harry’s hair is thick and curly—I wanted to touch it but stopped myself because, well, that would’ve been weird.
Harry didn’t say much at first, though I noticed him glancing at me. When I met his gaze, he blushed and looked down at his extra-polished school shoes.
We didn’t talk much again until the end of the day, on the way back to the dorms. That’s when we compared timetables and realized we share four classes, including English Literature. It’s just Harry and me in that one, though.
I never thought I’d be friends with boys, but I like it. It feels different from being friends with girls—less pressure to act outgoing or girly. I hope we stay friends. I like them both a lot.
. . .
Then — 2000
“Hey, Harry,” Y/N called, running across the field toward the headmaster’s office where Harry stood, focused on his Nokia flip phone.
Harry glanced up, his expression softening when he saw her. He tucked the phone into his pocket and waved her over. Despite the end-of-day chaos, both were still dressed in their school uniforms. “Hey, baby.” He greeted her with a quick kiss, pulling her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. He loved how perfectly she fit against him, as though they were made for each other.
“What’s going on? Aren’t we meeting Dylan to go to Ellis’ dorm?” Y/N asked, frowning slightly as she looked around for their other best friend.
Harry smirked, shaking his head. “We are, but Dylan got caught passing notes to Casey Becker in geometry. He’s stuck with thirty minutes in the headmaster’s office to make amends.”
Y/N chuckled, her laugh warm and familiar. “Again? He’s going to get himself expelled if he’s not careful.” She slid her hands under Harry’s blazer, warming them against his torso.
Harry brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting his thumb linger on her cheekbone. “How was your day?” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.
“It was fine,” Y/N replied. “I scored three points in netball, and Tessa Riley gave me daggers in the changing room.” She giggled, leaning into him.
Harry smiled, pride gleaming in his eyes. “That’s m’girl.” He bent down and kissed her forehead gently.
“Oh, please, don’t make me sick,” a familiar voice drawled, breaking the moment.
“Hi, Dylan.” Y/N turned to see him strolling down the stone steps, his blazer slung over his shoulder and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. She leaned back against Harry, crossing her arms.
“Hello, my darling Y/N,” Dylan teased, his tone playful as he lit the cigarette with practiced ease.
“Seriously, Dylan?” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. “Do you really need another detention?”
“Don’t you smoke, Styles?” Dylan shot back, grinning. “Besides, Mary would love to see me again after our chat earlier. She’s got a soft spot for me.” He smirked, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth.
Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping away from Harry’s warmth. She was long used to Dylan’s antics—four and a half years of friendship had left little room for surprises.
The three of them had been inseparable since their first days at Southend Park Boarding School. Despite their differences in personality, they were like a family unit, supporting one another through the highs and lows of adolescence.
Dylan, the loudest of the trio, was notorious for his sharp wit and knack for trouble. Teachers despaired over his behavior, but students were drawn to his charm—especially the girls, who fell for his rebellious streak and the ever-present cigarette.
Harry, by contrast, was the golden boy: smart, polite, and beloved by staff. He balanced his role as student ambassador with captaining the football team, a position that made him one of the most popular boys in school. Dylan teasingly called him a “teacher’s pet,” but Harry wore the label without shame.
Y/N was the quietest of the three, rarely seeking the spotlight. She volunteered in the school library every Tuesday and spent her free time with her dorm mates. Still, Harry and Dylan were fiercely protective of her, and she often marveled at how lucky she was to have them.
The trio walked out of the school gates toward the housing blocks, their shadows stretching long in the late afternoon sun. Harry carried Y/N’s backpack on one shoulder, his free hand clasping hers. Dylan trailed behind, typing on his phone with an unlit cigarette between his teeth.
“Ellis doesn’t want you bringing anything to the party this time, Dylan,” Y/N warned, glancing over her shoulder. “You know what happened last time. If you pull that again, you’re getting kicked out of school.”
“My darling Y/N,” Dylan began with exaggerated sincerity, pausing for effect, “only for you.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.
When they reached her dorm, Y/N kissed Harry on the cheek and took her bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you both later?” she asked, her eyes bright.
Dylan saluted her without looking up from his phone, while Harry smiled warmly. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too, Harry,” she replied before disappearing inside.
Harry and Dylan walked in silence toward their dorm. The tension was palpable, Dylan unusually quiet as Harry’s mind churned with unspoken thoughts.
“We’re going to have to tell her at some point,” Dylan murmured, his voice low as the setting sun bathed the path in a golden glow.
Harry’s heart tightened. “No, we don’t.”
“Harry—”
“Shut up, Dylan. Nothing happened.” Harry’s voice was sharp, cutting Dylan off before he could continue.
They stopped, staring at each other, the air between them heavy. Harry’s frustration burned in his eyes, while Dylan’s sadness hung like a weight on his shoulders.
“I love her,” Harry finally said, his voice trembling. “I’ll never love anyone else as much as I love Y/N.”
Without another word, he turned and stormed into their dormitory, leaving Dylan alone on the pavement. Dylan exhaled shakily, the ache in his chest unbearable.
. . .
Then — 1998
Dear Diary,
It’s been a month since my fifteenth birthday, and Harry finally asked me out on a date. It feels like a dream, the kind where everything is so perfect you fear waking up to find it never happened.
To be honest, I think I’m already in love with him. He’s always been so kind to me, much more than Dylan. Harry carries my bag to class when I have netball, and sometimes, during English Literature, I catch him staring at me. There’s something about the way his gaze lingers that makes me feel seen.
In art class, he taught me how to use watercolors for the first time, his thumb brushing against mine as he guided me. Little moments like that remind me how much I care for him—so much that the thought of being without him feels unbearable. Is that dramatic? Probably. But I can’t help it if it’s true.
Even when I’m talking to Ellis during lunch or before bed, my mind wanders back to Harry—his smile, his eyes, the way he laughs at my jokes even when they aren’t funny, and how he hugs me differently from everyone else.
It feels strange to be fifteen and falling so deeply. What do I know about love at this age? How much further can I fall?
I think I’m going to love him forever. I hope he loves me forever too.
-
Dear Diary,
Harry kissed me today. My first kiss—with the boy I love most in the entire world.
I knew it was going to happen. We’d just finished dinner in the dining hall when he asked if I wanted to take a walk in the gardens. Dylan wanted to come along, but Harry shook his head, saying he wanted it to be just the two of us.
I felt a twinge of guilt when I looked back and saw Dylan standing there, his expression heavy as he watched us leave. He kept staring at Harry, even as we walked past the window overlooking the gardens.
Harry brought me to the tulips because he knows they’re my favorite. He said my braid looked pretty today, and that’s when I knew—I truly, completely loved him. It was the worst braid I’ve ever done, but he still thought it was beautiful.
We sat on a swinging bench, listening to birds returning to their nests. When he said my name, it sounded magical, like it had been made for his lips alone. I turned to look at him, and that’s when he leaned in and kissed me.
It felt like a scene from a movie.
No one ever tells you what it’s like to kiss someone for the first time. The way their breath mingles with yours, the world fading away as you close your eyes and step into a place so tender it consumes you. It makes you wonder if you’ve ever been truly loved before.
We only stopped because we heard a rustling in the bushes. We looked around but didn’t find anything, so Harry walked me back to my dorm. He kissed me again outside the door, and I floated through the rest of the night, humming to myself as I got ready for bed.
But when I think back to that moment, I could swear I saw a tuft of blond hair sticking out from behind a bush.
. . .
Now — 2000
Y/N sat cross-legged in front of the mirror on Ellis’ floor, carefully applying mascara as Fiona Apple played softly in the background. Ellis sat nearby, painting her nails a deep red.
“I’m just saying,” Ellis began, waving the brush for emphasis, “you and Harry have been dating for two years, and you haven’t done the deed yet?”
Y/N flushed at the mention of sex, shifting uncomfortably. She hated talking about it, even with Harry. Maybe it was because she didn’t know much about it or because she’d never had a safe space to ask questions, but every time the topic came up—whether in conversation or during truth or dare—she wanted to run for cover.
“We’re waiting for the right time,” Y/N said evenly, her voice robotic as she repeated the well-rehearsed answer.
“The right time?” Ellis scoffed. “I’ve never seen a couple more in love—it’s nauseating.”
Y/N hesitated, her mind drifting to moments when she’d wanted to take things further with Harry. But he always stopped before it went too far. Sometimes it made her feel like she wasn’t enough—pretty enough, desirable enough—but then he’d kiss her softly and remind her how beautiful she was, stroking her cheek as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ve done... things, but not that.”
“Is Harry religious or something?” Ellis asked, narrowing her eyes.
“No, I don’t think so,” Y/N replied with a frown. “He’s never mentioned it.”
“Maybe he’s waiting until marriage,” Ellis mused.
The thought of marrying Harry made Y/N’s heart swell. She’d dreamed of it ever since their first kiss in the gardens—walking down the aisle in a white dress, Harry waiting for her at the end, tears in his eyes. Maybe they’d both cry.
“I don’t mind waiting,” Y/N said, her voice soft but certain. “I love him enough to wait as long as he needs me to.”
Ellis groaned, grabbing a bottle of vodka from her bedside table. “You can’t say stuff like that when I haven’t had a single drink.” She poured herself a shot and downed it in one go. “Okay, continue.”
Y/N laughed and turned back to her reflection, humming Queen’s Love of My Life as her thoughts drifted back to Harry.
. . .
Then — 1998
Dear Harry,
Today we went to the beach—the three of us. Me, you, and Y/N. I know in most situations it’s you, Y/N, then me, but in these letters, it will always be me and you.
We’d been planning this trip for weeks. It’s a three-hour drive to the coast from school, and Y/N had been complaining about the journey the entire time. I didn’t mind. Is it wrong of me to want to sit next to you on a bus full of people not one of them knowing who we are for three whole hours? Our knees touching for three whole hours? Sand on your feet and your hair salty from the sea, inhaling your scent and wanting your hand to touch my thigh for three whole hours?
When we got there, the morning was overcast, but by the time we hit the sand, the sun broke through the clouds. It was perfect. The light caught your skin, making it glisten, and your eyes shone with that impossible sea-glass green. I wanted to look into them forever, but you were too busy looking at Y/N.
I tried to catch your attention—touching your shoulder as I passed by, reaching for the beach bag at the same time as you, brushing my fingers against yours. But it didn’t matter. You only had eyes for her, and I only had eyes for you.
When you kissed her in the gardens, a part of me died. I had been pining for you for so long, silently hoping you’d see me, but it was always her. I felt stupid, running miles afterward, the wind howling in my ears: You fool, you idiot, how could he ever love you?
I didn’t want to feel this way, Harry. I tried to bury it, to pretend it wasn’t real, but when I met you, everything I’d hidden about myself unraveled.
The day wasn’t without its drama. Y/N, distracted, stepped into the road thinking the approaching van was the bus. You moved so fast, grabbing her and pulling her back before the van could hit her. I watched the terror flash across your face, the way you held her afterward as she cried. You kissed her forehead, comforted her, showed her the kind of love I’d only ever dreamed of.
And I hated her for it.
I feel terrible admitting this because I do love Y/N. I truly do. But most days, I hate her, and only because she has you.
When we finally got to the beach, the three of us ran toward the waves, shedding our clothes as we went, laughing like we were carefree children. For a moment, we were. We left our troubles behind in the sand.
You swung Y/N over your shoulder as you splashed into the water, and I couldn’t help but admire the way your muscles flexed. You were a work of art, Harry, something meant to be admired in a gallery. And I was nothing more than an observer, longing for what I could never have.
Later, Y/N went to get ice cream. Before she left, she asked for your order, and I already knew what you’d say—mint chocolate chip. The way she looked surprised made me feel smug for a second, but that quickly disappeared when she said it was her favorite too.
While she was gone, I felt a cramp in my shoulder. “Let me,” you murmured, and before I could answer, your fingertips ghosted over my shoulder, pressing into the tight muscle.
I couldn’t breathe, Harry. You were so close, your breath warm against my neck. For a split second, I thought if I just turned my head, I could kiss you.
I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. Even if you do.
. . .
Now — 2000
Dylan and Harry were in their dorm room, preparing for the party. Harry stood in front of the mirror, anxiously gelling his hair back.
“I think I’m going to do it,” Harry said suddenly, turning to face Dylan. “I’m going to go all the way with Y/N.”
Dylan froze, his heart sinking. He lit a cigarette, trying to appear nonchalant as he perched on the windowsill. “Really? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” His voice betrayed him, tinged with irritation and jealousy.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m just saying, are you sure it’s the right time to sleep with her? After... what happened?”
Harry’s expression darkened. “Nothing happened. It was a mistake.”
“You keep saying that,” Dylan said, standing now, his voice rising. “Like you’re trying to gaslight me into thinking I imagined it. But I’ve imagined kissing you enough times to know what’s real and what’s not.”
Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching. “I was drunk, and you took advantage of me.”
The words hit Dylan like a slap, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Don’t try that with me, Harry. It might work in your petty arguments with Y/N, but it won’t work on me. You’re the one twisting the truth to fit your narrative.”
“I don’t care what you think,” Harry snapped. “I only care about Y/N. And if you can’t handle that, maybe you need to step away—from both of us.”
“Step away?” Dylan said incredulously, his voice breaking. “You want me to walk away from the only two people who’ve ever cared about me? You want me to walk away from you?”
Harry hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. “You know how I feel about Y/N. I love her. I’m in love with her. Even if I felt something for you, it would never compare.”
“You’re lying,” Dylan whispered, his eyes glassy. “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t have kissed me in the first place.”
“You don’t know anything!” Harry exploded, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you know what would happen if someone found out? What it would do to Y/N? To us? I felt nothing! It was a mistake!”
“Harry—”
“No,” Harry cut him off. “Whatever feelings you have, whatever intentions, you need to get over them.”
“That’s not as easy as you think—”
“You have to.” Harry’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Dylan stared at him, shattered, as Harry turned and stormed out.
He left Dylan standing there, broken, feeling like Harry had taken his very soul with him.
. . .
Then — 1999
Dear Harry,
We’ve been assigned as partners in media class, and now we have to make a music video. Naturally, you asked Y/N if she’d star in it. You told her she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and that she’d be perfect for it. She blushed, of course, and said yes. Then you kissed her—so long and so deeply that I had to look away.
I imagined myself in her place, wondering what it would be like to kiss you in public, to have the world see how much I adored you. If it were allowed, I don’t think I’d ever stop kissing you.
Today, we filmed the music video. You wanted it to feel like a coming-of-age story. I’d wanted something more abstract, but I agreed to your ideas, nodding eagerly at every suggestion, whether it was brilliant or terrible.
We filmed in the gardens—my least favorite place in the entire school. That’s where you kissed Y/N for the first time, and if I could erase that night from my memory, I would in a heartbeat.
The sun was shining as you whispered into Y/N’s ear while I set up the camera. I tried to block out the sound of your laughter, the sight of her hand on your shoulder.
“Are we ready?” I called, my voice louder than I intended. You straightened up immediately.
“Dylan, why don’t you be in the video with me?” Y/N smiled warmly. She had that rare ability to make everyone feel seen, like she was radiating sunshine. It was impossible not to smile back.
“My darling, you know I’m not nearly as perfect as you,” I teased, watching her blush.
I don’t even remember when I started calling her “my darling.” The first time, I remember catching the flash of jealousy in your eyes. I liked that. I liked seeing you react to me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted. You’re used to it now, but sometimes, when I say it, I still see a flicker of something in your gaze.
The music video took all day to shoot. Every time Y/N nailed a scene, you rewarded her with a kiss. I worked hard too, Harry. Shouldn’t I have been rewarded in some way?
When Y/N left for her library shift that evening, it was just the two of us. You wanted to capture the soft glow of the sunset, so we stayed behind to get more footage.
“My mother wants me to go into politics,” you said as we sat cross-legged on the grass, the camera between us. “But I’d love to do this—be a director. I’ve always wanted to be an artist of some kind. It’s a silly dream, but I think about it all the time.”
I could imagine it. You had a way of leading people, commanding attention without being arrogant. You cared so deeply—for the art, for the people—that it would probably destroy you someday.
“It’s not silly,” I said. “It’s never silly to dream. My God, Harry, we only live once. Might as well do everything we can to feel something in the little time we have.”
You looked at me then, really looked at me. For the first time, I thought you might be feeling a fraction of what I felt every day. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even Y/N knows.”
“It’ll be our secret,” I whispered. And for a moment, I could’ve sworn you glanced at my lips.
Then, just as quickly, you diverted the topic. Grabbing the camera, you aimed it at me lying in the grass. “Looks like Y/N’s not the only model anymore,” you teased.
I tried to act indifferent, but I would’ve stayed there all night if it meant seeing you laugh like that.
It makes me wonder, Harry—do you know how much power you have over your friends? Do you know that you have two people who worship the ground you walk on? How does it feel to be desired? How does it feel to have a choice in who you love?
. . .
Now — 2000
“You’re here!” Y/N beamed, running into Harry’s arms and wrapping her hands around his neck.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, kissing her temple before setting her down.
The party was already in full swing. Students from across campus had crammed into Ellis’ dorm, the air thick with music, laughter, and the faint smell of alcohol.
“Hi, Dylan,” Y/N greeted, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re dressed pretty smart. Planning on impressing anyone tonight?”
“Only you, darling,” Dylan replied, forcing a wink and a smirk despite the ache in his chest. Harry’s words from earlier still rang in his ears, but he pushed them aside.
Harry’s eyes darted to the cup in Y/N’s hand. “Have you been drinking?” he asked, his tone light but concerned.
“It’s water,” she whispered with a smile. Harry relaxed. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and he knew that.
“You look so pretty,” he said, marvelling at her dress. It was the one she wore for special occasions—one he had once told her was his favourite. A pang of guilt pricked at his heart as she looked back at him, her doe eyes filled with love.
“Come dance with me!” she said, pulling him toward the living room. “Both of you! My boys!”
Harry and Dylan followed her to the dance floor. The song Love My Way blared through the speakers, and Y/N moved between them, carefree and radiant.
At first, Harry danced with her, his focus entirely on Y/N. But then his gaze shifted to Dylan, who was swaying along with the music. Something unspoken passed between them, an invisible thread pulling them closer.
Harry laughed when Dylan moved towards him and for a moment they had forgotten everything around them. Dylan was just Dylan and Harry was just Harry, two boys who felt something they weren’t allowed to feel in the eyes of everyone else.
Harry was so close, their faces almost touching and for a moment Dylan thought they might kiss. But the blissful moment was broken as Harry stepped away, shaking his head, “N-No.” He whispered, “No, No, No.” He shook his head, his eyes frantic in search of Y/N.
“O-Oh, Harry,” Y/N yelped as he grabbed hold of her hand and lead her out of Ellis’ dorm and over to her own, three doors down from where the party was happening.
“What are you doing? Are you okay?” She cups his face in her hands and he exhales, trying to regain composure. This was the girl he loved, the only girl he could ever love and being in her hands felt like home. Didn’t it?
“Y-Y/N, I-I think I’m ready.” He presses his forehead against hers, kissing her bottom lip. “I’m ready.”
Her lips part in shock. She hadn’t been expecting this tonight and she wasn’t sure where Harry’s sudden desperation was coming from. He kissed down her neck as she tried to speak to him, “H-Harry, a-are you sure?” He nodded, his mouth leaving open mouthed kisses on her shoulder.
“I love you Y/N.” He looked into her eyes and she saw the sincerity behind them but also a hint of something else that she couldn’t quite place.
He started to peel her clothing off, his fingertips gently brushing against her soft skin. She tried to steady her breathing but her chest caved in and out as the oxygen in the room seemed to be escaping as he moved down her body. “Harry,” She whispered and he could hear the desperation in her voice. She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers together.
Y/N was stripped down to her bra and underwear. This was the most skin she had revealed to anybody but she trusted Harry with everything in her, he was her best friend. He blew warm air over the thin material of her bra and her nipples hardened, an overwhelming sense of desire and lust flooding her insides. It was so new and overwhelming, her hands shaking as she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots.
“Baby,” He whispered, his hands cupping her thighs as he pressed kisses down her body.
“Harry, wait.” She murmured, his eyes looking up from where he was laying between her legs, “You’re still dressed.” She sat up and tugged on the hem of his sweater.
He laughed softly, as she struggled to pull the sweater over his head. She marvelled at the sound and kissed the tip of his nose. He pulled her onto his lap and she grinded her hips against his, “God look at you.” He whispered. “Don’t leave me Y/N. You can never leave me.”
“I’m never going to.” She said it like it was a promise.
His hands hooked the straps of her bra and he gently pulled them down, her breath hitching as the pad of his thumb brushed against the side of her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in tightly, his face burying into the crook of her neck as he inhaled her.
This was going to be perfect, she thought, nothing could go wrong.
She grinded her hips against him again, a groan eliciting from his lip and a name escaping past the lips he had kissed her with so many times.
“Dylan.” Y/N froze. Her blood ran cold, and she pulled away as though Harry’s touch burned her.
“What did you say?” She pulled away, suddenly being naked in front of him didn’t feel right, being in a space alone with him didn’t feel right, everything she had ever felt for him before this moment didn’t feel right.
“Y/N,” He reached for her but she slipped away from him, slipped out of his touch, a touch she begged for just moments ago.
Harry’s heart no longer existed, wherever it was it had abandoned him and left him here in this terrible moment to fend for himself. He felt his eyes well up with tears as he watched Y/N try to pick up her discarded clothes. This wasn’t how it was meant to be, she was suppose to be picking up his clothes after a night making love to each other.
“Y-You said his name.” Y/N whimpered, she was panicking and Harry could do nothing but watch.
“Baby I-”
“NO.” She spat, “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”
Harry watched as she turned around and clutched at her head, her knees buckling as she fell to the ground. She sobbed and sobbed, his hear wrenching at the sound of it. He had never heard a sound so painful in his life and he wanted to die in this very moment.
“No, No, No, No.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
“Y/N please just let me explain.” Harry tried, crouching down in front of her and trying to place a hand on her now clothed shoulder.
“NO.” She pushed him away and leaped back, her back hitting the wall.
Harry was broken. He was truly broken. This was something well out of his reach in fixing and nothing he could do or say could make up for the fact that he had hurt the two people he loved and cherished the most in this world, in the span of one night.
“Get out of my room!” She began to scream, “Get out of here!”
A knock at the door shattered the silence.
“Hey, you guys in there?” Dylan’s voice called from the hallway.
Before Harry could respond, Y/N lunged for the door, anger blazing in her eyes.
“Get out of my room!” she screamed, her voice raw with betrayal.
Harry caught her before she reached Dylan, her fists pounding against his chest. “I’m broken,” she whimpered, her strength fading. “You broke me.”
And for the first time, Harry knew what it felt like to be utterly powerless.
. . .
Then — 2000
Dear Diary,
You know those secrets so big they feel like they could swallow you whole? The kind you promise never to tell a soul for as long as you live? At first, they consume you, taking over every thought and breath. But over time, they settle into the corners of your mind, a quiet part of you that only stirs when something triggers it.
Well, today I made one of those secrets.
It was a Tuesday, the day I volunteer in the library after school. There’s something peaceful about wandering the empty halls when no one else is around—a stark contrast to the chaos between periods. Mrs. Ableton asked me to deliver a stack of books to the English Literature cupboard. Our copies of The Catcher in the Rye were practically falling apart, so we’d ordered replacements.
As I walked through the hall, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye near the classroom where Harry and I have English together. Curious, I paused, almost dropping the books in my hands.
Harry was leaning against a desk, and Dylan stood in front of him. At first, I thought nothing of it and smiled, reaching for the door handle to make myself known. But then Dylan stepped closer, touched Harry’s hand, and kissed him.
I froze.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The same lips that had kissed mine were now kissing the lips of my best friend.
I wanted to cry, but I was too shocked to do anything but stand there, watching. A part of me hoped I was trapped in a nightmare—that I’d wake up, call Harry, and laugh about how silly it all was. But when Dylan pulled back, Harry grabbed his arm and kissed him again.
That time, I couldn’t watch.
I backed away, the tears finally falling. My mind raced as I searched for somewhere—anywhere—I could cry louder, scream even, because this wasn’t something I could cry about quietly.
Harry was mine. But he was also Dylan’s.
By the time I went to bed, I’d convinced myself I would confront them. I’d tell them I saw what happened and ask if we could move on, pretend it never happened. But as the hours stretched on, I realized I didn’t want to speak about it. Talking about it would mean reliving it, over and over.
I didn’t want to remember.
I just wanted Harry.
So, this is a secret I’ll take to my grave. I’ll never tell a soul I watched Harry kiss Dylan in a way he never kissed me.
Even if it breaks me.
. . .
Now — 2000
“What happened?” Dylan asked. They were back in his dorm now, Harry pacing the room like a caged animal.
“She knows,” Harry muttered, his fingers pulling at his hair—a habit whenever he was upset. “She knows about us, what we did.”
Dylan collapsed onto the bed, his face pale. “How?”
Harry stopped and turned to him, shame written all over his face. “I said your name.”
Dylan’s shoulders sagged, and he buried his face in his hands. Images of Y/N, broken and sobbing on her bedroom floor, flashed through his mind. She had begged them to fix her, but they were the ones who broke her.
“It’s fine,” Harry rambled, his voice shaking. “I-I’ll give her some time, however long she needs. Then I’ll explain. I’ll explain it was a misunderstanding.”
“Harry,” Dylan said gently, standing to take Harry’s hands in his own. “I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for Y/N to get over this.”
Harry’s breath hitched, and a sob escaped him as he crumpled into Dylan’s arms. Dylan ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, resting his cheek against Harry’s head. “It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “Everything will be alright.”
“I hurt her so bad, Dylan,” Harry cried. “I love her, and I hurt her.”
“She was always going to find out,” Dylan said softly, the truth cutting deeper than any lie.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Harry whispered.
Dylan sighed. “Why do you always talk about how things are meant to be? You act like your life was mapped out before you left the womb. Was it ‘meant to be’ that the three of us became inseparable? That you fell in love with both of us because you care so deeply? That I fell in love with you because you see art in everything? None of this was ‘meant to be,’ Harry. It just happened. And now we deal with it.”
Harry pulled back, tears streaking his face. “You still love me? Even after I pushed you away?”
Dylan smiled sadly, wiping a tear from Harry’s cheek. “I love you despite everything.”
Harry’s lips ghosted over Dylan’s, and for a moment, it felt like all their pain had been lifted. “Dylan,” Harry whispered, his voice trembling as he said the name again and again, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“You can say my name as much as you want, love,” Dylan murmured. “I’ll always be here.”
. . .
Three weeks passed and the friends were no longer talking to each other, instead they acted as though they didn’t know each other as they passed each other in the hallway.
Harry had to try and not flinch when he saw Y/N scurry pass him, her eyes red and bloodshot as Ellis comforted her, glaring at Harry as they did. He wanted to speak to her but he was never given the chance to, rightly so considering what he had done to her.
Dylan and Harry, mostly Harry, thought it would best to keep their distance for a while. It killed them both to not be around each other but for the sake of their friendship with Y/N, they shared small moments of brief eye contact and touches throughout the day. Neither of them knew what was to come for the both of them but this limbo was enough for now.
Dylan ate lunch alone and as he did, he listened to the conversations of everyone around him. He wondered what it felt like for them to go about their day feeling like they belong in their own skin and not feel ashamed over who they love. He had never felt so alienated and so out of touch with himself.
He had been given an after school detention for an hour with Mr Henley after calling him sexist in front of the class. No one was around when he left the classroom until he saw a group of girls walking across the field.
At the end of the line was Y/N, wearing her netball uniform.
She must have caught sight of him because the next thing he knew, she was walking up to him. He had to check behind him to see he was seeing correctly.
“Hi Dylan,” She keeps her distance for reasons unknown to him but being around her again made him relax, he missed the friendship he shared right at the very beginning when they were thirteen and picking each other up from class to go to the sweet shop after school.
“Hey Y/N.” He offers her a smile.
“How are you doing?” He didn’t miss the way she gripped her bag like she was trying to stop herself from saying anything she really wanted to.
“I feel like I should be asking you that.” Y/N huffs, “I’ve had better days.” “Y/N-”
“Just tell me this,” She starts, “H-How long?”
Dylan decided he would be as honest and as straight to the point as he could be, it was what she deserved at least.
“Y/N the only thing we did was kiss one time. Harry stopped it because he’s in love with you.”
“And you’re in love with him.”
“Y-Yes.”
Y/N laughs incredulously, “We could never just be three best friends could we? It was always going to be complicated.”
“We could still be best friends Y/N.”
“But it’s not the same now is it?” She bit back and Dylan realised he needed to be careful with what he said. “Is he sad?”
“Terribly. Sometimes I hear him crying in his room at night.”
A silence fell between them which was strange. Y/N and Dylan has always had a brother-sister relationship, Dylan was always one to tease Y/N and make her laugh but right now it seemed all he was doing was making her upset.
“I’m moving schools.” Y/N confessed, “At the end of the term, I’m moving to Bridgewater. Mum’s moving in with her fiancee, and she wants me to be closer.”
“When were you going to tell us?” Dylan was shocked.
“I was given the choice. I could stay here or move to another school but if I stayed I’d have to stay at my dad’s during the holidays and I’m not in the mood to be lectured during my time away from school.”
Dylan didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t fathom the three of them not being together for such a long period of time. “I know what you’re thinking. I know I need to tell him but if we are going to have a shot at being friends again, I need to be away from you both.”
“Y/N,” Dylan shakes his head, “It doesn’t have to be like this,”
“You know I saw you when you kissed each other in the English Literature classroom?” She confessed, Dylan’s lips parting. “He kissed you in a way that he never kissed me. Everytime we kissed afterwards all I could think about was how different it was, how I desperately wanted him to kiss me the way I had seen him kiss you. I used to write in my diary about how I would die if I didn’t have him near me. I thought he would be the end of me but I didn’t realise you would be too.”
“I know he loves you Dylan and... I’m happy for you but I’m not selfless enough to stand beside you both and watch you fall in love when I so desperately love him too.”
“Y/N,” Dylan reaches out for her hand and takes it, “I’m sorry.” “I know Dylan, I know.”
. . .
Now — 2000
Harry’s leg wouldn’t stop jittering as he sat outside the school library on a Tuesday evening. He’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, replaying it over and over in his mind. He had spent countless hours rehearsing his apology to Y/N until it became a permanent loop in his thoughts.
When the library door swung open, he shot up immediately, brushing down his school trousers and running a hand through his hair. Y/N stepped out, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder.
She looked better than she had in weeks, and Harry’s heart ached at the sight of her. He would have carried her bag for her if they were still together.
Her expression changed when she saw him, her voice barely above a whisper. “H-Harry.”
“I came,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I-I couldn’t believe it when I got your text. I’d have waited here for hours if you hadn’t shown up.”
Her face softened briefly, but she walked past him. “Follow me,” she said simply.
He trailed behind her as she led him to the gardens—the place where they’d shared their first kiss and filmed the music video for his and Dylan’s project. It was a space filled with memories of the three of them: Y/N doing homework, Dylan reading, and Harry strumming his guitar.
They sat down on the swinging bench, a familiar seat now heavy with unspoken tension. Harry noticed she kept her distance, and though every fiber of his being wanted to pull her close, he knew it wasn’t the right time.
“Who gave you those?” Harry finally asked, nodding at the flowers in her hand. A flicker of hope crossed his face.
“Debbie,” she said, referring to the school librarian. “It’s my last day working at the library.”
“You quit?” Harry frowned, his gaze flicking from the flowers to her face.
Y/N inhaled deeply before speaking. “I’m leaving, Harry.”
The wind seemed to leave him. “N-No,” he stammered, shaking his head. “You—you can’t. You can’t just leave. I won’t let you—”
“Harry,” she interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently in her lap. “It’s what’s best.”
“How can you say that?” he asked, trying to pull his hand away, though her warmth made it impossible. “How can you say it’s what’s best? The three of us—we’re supposed to be together.”
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked at him. He looked thinner, more tired than she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t help him—not anymore.
“Y/N, the thing with Dylan...” Harry began, his voice cracking. “I-I never meant for it to happen. We were just alone, I was stressed, and my emotions got the better of me. But I don’t feel the same way about him as I do about you.”
She shook her head softly. “Maybe that’s true, but not in the way you think. Dylan has always been there for you, Harry, in ways I never could. The way you look at him... it’s like he hung the stars in the sky just for you, like he tilted the sun so it would never blind you but still brighten your world.
“Maybe you do love me,” she continued, her voice trembling, “but love isn’t just about taking care of someone. It’s not carrying my backpack because it’s too heavy or doing my homework when I’m too tired after netball. Love is about being vulnerable. It’s about being taken care of, about laughing and crying and feeling like your heart is burning, and nothing can put it out.
“Now tell me, Harry. Did you ever feel that way with me? Were you ever vulnerable with me?”
Harry’s heart cracked. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.
“Please, Y/N,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I can’t be without you.”
“You have Dylan,” she said, trying to be the bigger person even though it shattered her inside. “It was never going to be me, Harry. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for him?”
Harry looked down at the ground, his silence all the confirmation she needed.
Her heart broke all over again, but she forced herself to stay strong. “Why do you have to go?” he asked, tears streaming down his face.
“Because, Harry,” she said gently, “what good would it do for the three of us if I stayed? You need to find out who you are, and so do I. Before me, it was you and Dylan. Now, it will end that way - with you and Dylan.”
“And what about you?” he asked desperately. “What will you do? Where will you go?”
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I’m grateful for what I’ve had. You and Dylan will always be a part of me. I hope one day we’ll forget this pain, and everything will be okay again.”
She reached out, brushing his hair back the way she used to. “I love you, Harry. I love you so much, I feel like I could burst.”
“I love you too,” he murmured. For the first time, he meant it in a way that felt true—not as a lover, but as a best friend.
“Be brave,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And tell him you love him.”
Harry nodded as the tears fell freely, clinging to her like a child who didn’t want to let go.
She was going to love him forever. She now knew he wouldn’t.
. . .
“She’s gone,” Dylan said softly from the doorway of Harry’s bedroom.
Harry sat at his desk, a pen still in his hand though it hovered, unmoving, above the page. “Was she alright?” he murmured.
“She was better than we probably thought,” Dylan admitted, realizing how much they’d underestimated Y/N’s strength. They’d always thought it was their job to protect her, but she’d always been stronger than the two of them combined.
“Right,” Harry muttered, his voice hollow.
Dylan moved to sit on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. “I was thinking we could have the leftover soup for dinner instead of going to the dining hall.”
“I’m not hungry,” Harry replied—a rare admission from someone who was always hungry.
Dylan frowned. “How long are you going to wallow in this? Can’t you see we’re both trying to do the right thing for your benefit?”
Harry turned to him, anger flashing in his eyes. “And what exactly are you doing?”
“I’ve been keeping my distance,” Dylan snapped. “Acting like we’re strangers when we’re the complete opposite. Do you know how much it kills me to not be near you? To have to hide from myself?”
Harry stood abruptly. “And you think I’m not struggling? You think I haven’t been grappling with everything I feel?”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Dylan shouted, standing to meet Harry’s gaze. “You had someone who loved you for two whole years. You have everything, Harry—loving parents, the best grades, popularity. And you act like it’s all been taken from you because I kissed you!”
“Y/N is gone because of us!” Harry yelled back.
“No,” Dylan said fiercely, his voice rising. “She’s gone because of you! Because you’re too afraid to be honest about who you are! Because you care too much about what everyone else thinks. That’s why she’s gone!”
Their faces were inches apart, their anger radiating in the small space between them.
“How dare you? Can’t you see this is difficult for me to accept?” Harry shouted, his voice trembling with anger and frustration.
“What is?” Dylan snapped back, stepping closer. “What is so difficult, Harry? What’s so hard that you have to sit in the dark and ignore the only two people who’ve ever truly cared about you? Huh? What is it? Tell me. TELL ME.”
“I am in love with you!” Harry yelled, the words ripping out of him like they had been clawing to escape for years. “I am a fool, and I am in love with you.”
Dylan froze, stunned. His breath caught in his throat as the weight of Harry’s confession settled over him. The words he had dreamed of hearing for years hung in the air between them, impossible to ignore.
“What?” Dylan managed, his voice barely a whisper.
“I have loved you since the moment I met you,” Harry said, his voice softer now but no less raw. “And it’s been killing me every day since. I think of you—daily, nightly, every moment in between—and it tears me apart. Kissing you was the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and denying it afterward made me a coward. But here I am now, standing in front of you, a man stupidly, hopelessly in love with his best friend.”
Harry’s eyes were red and glassy, the weight of years of unspoken emotion etched into his every feature.
Dylan stared at him, speechless. He had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was real, the depth of Harry’s vulnerability left him breathless.
“Kiss me,” Dylan whispered, his voice breaking. “Kiss me.”
Harry didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, cupping Dylan’s face in his hands as though it had been crafted to fit perfectly in his palms. Then he kissed him—fervent and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of his love and longing into that singular moment.
Dylan’s world ignited. A piece of him that had been dormant for years finally came alive. His heart and mind, long at odds, now burned in harmony as Harry’s lips moved against his. He felt consumed, but in the most beautiful way, as if he could lose himself in Harry forever and never once regret it.
“I love you too, Harry,” Dylan whispered when they finally parted, their foreheads resting together.
“I bloody well hope so,” Harry murmured, a small laugh escaping his lips as tears spilled down his cheeks.
. . .
Now
Dear Harry,
I’d like to tell you a story that will more than likely make you happy.
One day, I was sat in a café, only a twenty-minute walk away from Southend Park School, which is closed down now and turned into a factory to fix airplanes. I bought my usual order of a decaf cappuccino and a slice of toffee apple cake. On this particular day, they added more sugar to my cappuccino, so I knew it would be a good day.
Across from me, a woman sat, her dog lying down at her feet as she read The Catcher in the Rye whilst sipping on a fruit tea. I didn’t think much of it, but I found it interesting the way she would read something and then shakily jot something down in the little notebook on the table.
Anyway, I had originally come to the café so I could write about our trip to Brighton. You were still complaining about the sand in your clothes just last night despite the fact that Brighton has no sand.
“It’s alright, love,” I comforted you, helping you put your pyjamas on.
“It bothers me, Dylan.” You responded, coughing into your handkerchief.
We don’t leave our small bungalow very often because you don’t like to leave the dogs and I don’t like change, but this trip to Brighton was one we had been planning for a year or so, so we didn’t really have much choice in the matter.
We spent a lot of time sat on the beach in the evenings whilst we were there, a blanket wrapped around the both of us as we fed the seagulls. I remember you saying you liked the sound of the ocean because it made you feel like we were seventeen again, running into the ocean without a care in the world.
You then proceeded to mention how worried you are about our Y/N, “I hope she’s doing alright, our Y/N.” You said and then went back to talking about a programme you watched the night before.
You had always worried about Y/N in the years after she left, always asking where she was or what she was up to despite the fact we never got in contact with her again. I also wonder whether or not she is okay, and I knew that if I were to see her again, I would thank her for allowing us the space to fall in love.
It was awfully difficult those months after we kissed in your bedroom. We were constantly berated by people we had never spoken to before, and I knew it bothered you for a while, but we overcame it just like we did every other obstacle in our lives... together.
Anyway, as I continued to write about our trip, the door to the café opened again and three middle-aged people walked over to the elderly lady in the corner. “Come on Mum, we’ve got to say goodbye to Dad now,” the man spoke to her, and she swatted him away. Something about that small action gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.
“Give me a moment,” the woman responded, and the three children sat at the table in the chairs around her.
Eventually, they managed to get her standing up. One of them placed her coat around her shoulders, and another handed her her walking stick. When she turned to look at me, I saw a familiar set of eyes looking straight at me.
The three people aiding her walked to the door and held it open for her. As she was about to step out the door, her walking stick fell out of her shaky hands and right at my feet. I quickly picked it up and handed it to her, her face brightening at the sight of me.
“Thank you.” Her voice still sounded the same all that time ago.
“No... Thank you, my darling.”
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valuunit · 1 year ago
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thanks for the right angst for me to cry to sleep
I Wish That It Could Be Like That
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Summary: An affair with Harry has taken its toll and is no longer enough.
Warnings: angst, infidelity - please don't read if this is a trigger for you
Word Count: 1824
A/N: Written in 2017, inspired by "Secret Love Song, Pt. II" by Little Mix. This is in first person, but the woman's name is not mentioned.
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"Have you seen my ring?" asked Harry, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
"Which ring?" I sat up, stopping in the middle of buckling the straps on my shoes. My breath caught in my throat. Oh, Shit!
"This one," Harry held up his left hand, but pointed at the middle finger with his right.
"Oh," I sighed. "Thank God, I thought you meant..."
"No," he shook his head. "No, I don't-" His words stilled in his mouth and he swallowed hard.
"You don't what?" I raised a brow.
"I don't...wear that one. When I'm with you."
"Oh." I released a breath and grabbed my other shoe, stopping once again. "That's not true. You had it on the other day."
"When?" Harry crossed the room to inspect the dresser.
"At the dinner par-"
Harry nodded at me in the mirror, recognizing my acknowledgment. There had been people at that dinner party who knew her. Who knew them as a couple. I'd had to pretend, playing another one of his friends who just happened to be at the party, and not his date. I was a great actress. No one was the wiser. No one knew our secret.
We had to hide, Harry and me. It wasn't easy, and to be honest after three months, it had started to take its toll on me. In the beginning it was merely a physical attraction we shared. We didn't mean for it to happen. No one ever does. Over time it had started to develop into something more, at least on my part, and I had reason to believe he felt the same. However, he belonged to someone else.
I always only referred to her as her. I couldn't bring myself to use the term wife. Occasionally her name rolled off my tongue, tasting of shame and self-disgust. It wasn't that I had any issues with her. As a person, she was fine, lovely even. It was just that she had something I wanted. She had his last name. She had him.
And for that reason alone, I hated her.
I bit my lip as I tied on my other shoe. Harry passed me as we walked around the bed, still searching for his missing ring.
"There it is," he half giggled when he lifted the pillow. I returned the grin he gave me as he slid the ring onto his finger.
"C'mon, love," he said, holding out his hand to me. "Let's go."
We drove to a night club just outside the city, one that a mutual acquaintance, whom knew nothing of our affair, had casually mentioned in conversation. I felt relief in knowing that we wouldn't be recognized, happy to spend a fun-filled evening as a couple in someplace other than my apartment or a hotel room.
Harry held my hand for the entire drive, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb across my knuckles and rings, occasionally lifting our joined hands to kiss the back of mine. I sat back in my seat, a contented smile on my face as I listened to him humming along to the radio.
I hadn't told him yet, but I was in love with him. I'd decided that day, that morning while I was getting dressed, or maybe brushing my teeth as I thought of his smile, his laugh, his voice...the way we fit together. It was so obvious, I had to laugh at myself. Every piece of him just fit perfectly.
Harry walked around the car to open my door like a gentleman, and again held the door open when we arrived at the entrance of the club. He gently guided me inside with his hand on the small of my back as we walked up to the bar to give our drink orders. We'd only gotten halfway through our first cocktails when a song we both loved began to play. Without a word, Harry set down his glass and pulled me onto the dance floor.
The bass zig-zagged through my veins as we danced, pumping loud and causing the floor to feel like it was made of rubber as we bounced to the beat. I raised my arms above my head like a fan at a concert as I sang along and twirled in a circle at Harry's feet, making him beam his million-watt smile.
With not nearly enough alcohol in my system yet, Harry agreed to sit the next song out and return to the bar for more drinks. This time we grabbed a couple shots, letting the golden liquor loosen any stiff joints and muscles. I watched Harry sway his hips to the next song as I sipped on a glass of water, eager to join him on the dance floor once again.
I giggled at the pure joy he exuded when he placed his hands on my hips and shifted them back and forth to get me to dance. He was obviously having a great time, and that itself made me happy.
We danced a couple more songs, both of us getting hot and sweaty. Then an oldie from the 70s started to play, a more mid-tempo track with a sexy groove. I gave Harry a wink as I began to dance closer to him, my fingers lightly teasing the opening of his shirt, tickling the unfastened buttons.
I loved the way he was looking at me. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, the green darker than usual. He didn't have to say a word. I knew what he was feeling, because I was feeling it too.
I knew I wasn't supposed to. Every warning he'd ever given me replayed in my head as I stood on my tip toes. I didn't care. I needed his lips on mine. I wound my arms around his neck, my chin tilted, awaiting his kiss.
But it didn't happen. Instead, Harry unwrapped my arms from his neck, squeezing my hands before letting them fall between us. His jaw set, he shook his head.
"No, baby," he whispered.
Though his tone was firm, like a parent scolding a child, I knew I detected a bit of regret and sorrow. Or perhaps that was just my own wishful thinking.
"Please."
"We can't. I've told you."
"No one knows us here, Harry."
His brows furrowed, the crinkle above his nose deeper than ever, he shook his head once more and turned toward the bar. I stood in my spot, my feet unable to move. My chest shook as I began to sob internally, careful not to let any tears roll down my face. Finally, I was able to walk, following Harry where he stood at the end of the bar.
"Take me home," I mumbled.
"What?" he turned to me.
"I'd like to leave," I declared, my bottom lip trembling. "Drive me home, please."
"We only got here..." his eyes shifted around the room. "It's early."
"Fine," I argued. "I'll find my own way."
Pushing past him, I made it outside, my heels clicking on the pavement and down the sidewalk. I pulled out my phone to call a cab just as Harry caught up with me.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting a ride," I answered, my fingers tapping anxiously on the screen.
"Don't be like this, love. We've been through this."
"Harry, not one fucking soul in that bar knows you're marr-" I couldn't say the word. It tasted awful on my tongue and made me nauseous. "That I'm not yours."
"Baby..." He stepped closer, but still didn't reach for me. The few inches between us might as well had been a million miles. "You are mine."
"Am I? Because I don't feel like it."
Harry remained silent, the only sound his breath as he exhaled through his nose. I felt the tears form in my eyes again and I blinked, desperate to hold them back.
"You won't even touch me now," I whispered in a shaky voice.
"I...I want to..."
I shook my head, the first lone tear trickling down my cheek. "Just take me home. Please."
Dropping his head, Harry dug his keys out of his pocket. I followed him to the car and climbed inside when he held the door open. The noise rang in my ears when he shut it, like the sound of a pinball dropping down the chute, much like the clanging of a phantom beat in my empty heart.
As he drove, the silence was deafening. I couldn't stop the tears anymore. They came rolling down my face like a waterfall. My chest shook with heavy breaths. I couldn't look at him, so I just stared out the window and watched the headlights and street lamps go by.
"I'm sorry," Harry finally spoke.
I sniffled, still unable to turn my head. "I don't wanna hide anymore," I mumbled through sobs.
I could hear him swallow, hear the sound of his hand running across the steering wheel. He cleared his throat.
"I wanna be able to be seen with you," I continued. "I want to be able to kiss you. Why can't we be like that?"
"We...we just...we can't."
"Why not?" I cried, finally turning to face him. His face was lit by the dashboard light, but his expression was unreadable. "I love y-"
"Shh, baby, don't," he interrupted, reaching over the seat to grab my hand.
"Don't what? I can't help it, Harry! I'm in love with you! I want the world to know. I wanna shout it from the rooftops!"
Harry said nothing else for the rest of the ride home. I just sat in the passenger seat, staring at him, waiting and hoping desperately for him to speak. His hand still held mine as he pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car in front of my apartment. Releasing it slowly, he shifted the car into park and bowed his head.
"It's hopeless, isn't it?" I finally asked.
"It's...it's complicated, baby. You knew that from the beginning."
"You said I'm yours. Why is that complicated?"
"Because, it is," he glared at me.
"Because someone else is yours too. That's never gonna change, is it?"
Harry sighed, answering my question with that one gesture.
"I can't live this way, Harry. I've been hoping..." I shook my head, wiping another stream of tears. "No, I can't. I can't keep waiting. It'll never be enough."
"I'm sorry, baby," he said again. "I just can't give you what you're wanting right now."
"I know."
I leaned forward, placing my hand on his cheek. His eyelids fluttered as my lips met his and he kissed me back. One last kiss. A kiss goodbye. Forever.
Neither of us spoke. Instead, I opened my own car door and walked to my own front door, unlocking it as Harry backed out of the parking space. His taillights shone on my hardwood floor when I turned around and watched him drive away.
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valuunit · 1 year ago
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after midnight
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summary: some steamy sex after dancing at the club with harry in his frat era.
title because im obsessed with chapelle roan, as you should
Content: She/her pronouns. smut (mdi), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, using a tie as a way to muffle sound ;), oral (m receiver), finguer fucking, clothed sex?, oh, a photo taken during sex, this oc is really stupid and horny, don’t show you’re face in an explicit pic of yourself wit someone new. that’s it ig :)
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there’s any mistake I'm sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D
y/n
why did i agree to this? jesus, this is the shitiest-
“y/n, my miracle is here!” the strong mature voice of Patricia sends shivers down my spine.
“hi” i quietly say, accepting her hug.
“here, i want you to met someone.”
fuck. social interaction.
i’m so so tired for this, i just want to pet my beautiful dog and sleep cuddling with him.
“Michael! here she is, y/n, y/n that’s Michael Young, owner of the record label i told you.” she whispers the last bit. my attitude automatically changes, another rich man who wants more money.
a very well preserved old man turns around, he’s like the definition of daddy if i were attracted to him, he gives me a gentle handshake. “nice to meet you miss, i’ve heard great things about you.”
“thanks, it’s very nice to meet you too.” after that he kisses Patricia’s cheek and excuses himself, promising to get back a little later.
“well, that didn’t go as planned.”
i chuckled. “maybe in a bit will go better, he said he was coming back”
“that’s the equivalent of a guys promising you he’s calling you back after fucking.”
“oh, then forget about it, let’s drink!” i smile eyeing the open bar.
“you do you, honey, i’ll be here if you need me.”
“okay mother, thanks.” i love that woman even if she’s in my monthly payroll.
“love ya.”
i pass some people, looking for the edge of the bar, and fortunately it was empty. “hi, can i take an old fashioned, please?” the bar tender nodded. life like this is kinda good.
harry
“that girl, she’s fit.” louis said.
oh i know lou, i’ve been watching her since she stepped in the club.
“who?” niall said genuinely curious to look at a cute girl.
“there, in the leather jacket at the edge of the table.” louis kept trying to get a better look at her.
“you should go talk to her.” niall says after also looking.
“i think that harry’s job here, he’s been drooling here for her.”
“what?, no, i didn’t even saw her before you mentioned her.” you fucking liar. you even know her name and music.
“okay, then i’ll take the word from nialler here and go count that lady.” you’re a good player louis, but not the best.
he’s testing me to push myself to go there.
“no, not at all.” i simply reply.
“ehh! louis, louis, louis!” niall cheers.
and there he goes, confident steps but playing with his hands.
y/n
i feel a pair of eyes on my back, i try not to think to much about it, i’m here to enjoy myself not to pay attention for others.
“hi” a particular voice says.
i don’t reply, maybe it’s not for me, i don’t want to embarrass me.
“hey, you like it old fashioned?, you’re like a dad?” okay, maybe that is for me.
“yeah, i probably have someone pregnant rounding around the world. i’m at that stage of my life.” i simply replied.
they laughed “i might like you. i’m louis, nice to meet ya”
“hi, y/n” this is louis tomlinson, one of the most famous boys at the moment. if this was happening a couple of years ago i would probably pass out, but i’ve slowly realized that doesn’t matter you ‘status’, you should be treated as kindly and respectful as anyone.
“aren’t you going to invite me a drink?” he says offended, playin, obviously.
“yeah, because i’m the one who approached” i said smiling. “what would you like? it’s on me.”
“oh, becoming my sugar mommy, i get it. i’ll get a shot, tequila.”
“yeah, the free aspect does play a roll here.” he laughs again and looks to where he came from. “four shots of tequila please, extra lime.”
“two rounds, i for sure like you now.” he immediately takes one of the caballito, waiting for me.
“i was just hopping you’d get pleased with that and leave.” i also take one, he hums and aproches for slice of lime.
“damn, that’s tough, if you want me to leave you’re not going to achieve it giving me drinks.” he talks quickly, then proceeds to cheer and gut down the little but dangerous liquid. i follow.
“oof, party animal, aren’t ya?” a deep and also british voice comes in.
“harry!, your finally came, i thought i was gonna stay here all night mate.” he looks at me “not that i would mind”
i completely turn around to look at a curly haired guy, he’s also really handsome, and how not? he’s harry styles.
“ah, yeah, thanks man, see you?” his confused comment makes me laugh.
“yeah, whatever you say. it was really nice to meet you, y/n, hope we can finish this round one day.” he pats the back of his friend and gets out. damn, what the fuck.
“am, i’m really sorry ‘bout that, i’m harry though, you’re y/n?”
“yeah, no it’s fine, if you want you can finish the shots with me?” i say also confused, he looks so nervous and i don’t know why, i'm not that scary am i?
“sure, thanks.” and it becomes silent. well, the conversation with louis was better, that’s for sure.
we swallow the drinks and when i reach out for the fruit i find his hands in the same one i was about to grab, i quickly change my election, and he does as well, i laugh at the awkwardness. he smiles at that.
“i heard your album. it’s amazing.”
“what? you’ve heard my album.” a say fascinated while sucking the last bit of sour liquid.
“what? are you surprised i listen to good music?” he smiled and smooths his chin.
“i wouldn’t say that, i just thought it didn’t reached that many people for you to listen to it.”
“what do you mean? it’s hit after hit, it’s really popular.”
“well, i don’t often look at the logistics of it. but thanks, i wasn’t really sure about it, nor my record label i almost got dropped.”
“well, they’re losers, it’s great.” he smiles and i also do, it’s really nice to heard that from someone who doesn’t know me, it feels genuine.
“i feel like i have to return the compliment but i haven’t heard 1D in like one year, ahm, i really love c’mon c’mon.” he and i laugh.
“yeah, i don’t blame you.” he suddenly looks uncomfortable.
“i’m really sorry.” i try to read his eyes, he was looking at a light above, but now his eyes are back on mine, he doesn’t look as happy as some people seem when they talk about something the love, like music. “you’re not satisfied, are you?”
“you could say that in a lot of aspects.” he smirks.
“okay, i don’t wanna hear it.” i say laughing nervously.
“let’s not talk about this depressing stuff. wanna dance?”
“sure, i’d love to.”
he takes my hand to make sure i don’t get lost in the crowd, he pauses for a second to give louis a warning look when he makes quiet wolf whistles.
“he’s an idiot, sorry.”
“i figured, no problem.”
promiscuous is blasting across the club, this song is sexy and i’m with a sexy guy, i must be a little sexy.
i’m against his chest, the room between our bodies is none, and the space we have to dance is limited, but we can make it work.
i see him starting to sway his shoulders first, trying to get used to the beat. i put my arms on his obliques, also starting to sway my hips, looking at his chest tattoos.
his hands go under my leather jacket and stay in between my hips and my waist, following me. i hear him pant, his mouth is slightly parted and his forehead falls to mine.
“can i take this?” he grabs the tie that hangs loosely in my neck, trying to distract himself for the erection i feel near my left hip.
“sure” we separate out heads and he puts it around his neck, the red looks good on him.
harry
she’s the hottest, most gorgeous person i’ve met.
her lips are as bright as the tie i just grabbed from her beautiful neck, i really want to kiss her. but maybe she’s not into me in that way.
“fuck, how are you so hard, a minute has hardly passed” her voice is deeper than before. i feel slightly embarrassed, but also no.
“that’s the reaction my body has with you.” i say honestly. some say that fake it till you make it, and that what i’m gonna do, fake confidence, maybe it’ll let me somewhere good.
she hums and looks at me in the eyes, to the lips and back at my eyes, with a bright smile and a dark look.
she grabs the tie, pulling me to her, we’re centimeters apart. when i’m about to kiss her she speaks.
“may i kiss you?” she whispers. this might be the hottest thing she’s done so far, or maybe the tie thing it’s.
“of fucking course.”
y/n
this kiss is as alex turner would say, were teeth collide.
is desperate, full of the sexual tension we’ve managed to build, and i couldn’t want it any other way.
we dance, grind, kiss and even moan, at least me, for what seems like the entire night, but when we take our make out session to the back of the building it seems like it barely 12 in the morning.
“jesus, love, i would love to take you home.” he says between wet neck kisses, all i reply is a fervent nod.
after that i feel his warm and big hand on my cheek, making me look at him, then is when i reply with actual words. “we can go back to my place, it not far and it’s alone.” i smile.
“you sure?”
“yeah, if you want.” he smiles and pecks my lips, i don’t know why his hand here makes me wanna melt against it.
“of course, love. it’s better than a shared hotel room.”
“yeah, probably.”
we decide to walk, it’s like i said not far away. the walk was definitely less heated, but it was something.
he asked if he could borrow my purse or my jacket to hide his boner, i laughed so much at that. but the outfit ended up amazingly on him, with the red tie and the also red small bag in his hands contrasting with his all black base.
as soon as i get home blake jumps, almost to the height of my head.
“i’m sorry, honey, i had somewhere to be.”
i think this might kill the mood, maybe not.
“who is this little bud?” harry asked when blake started sniffing his legs. i hang my jacket on a chair and take my purse from harry’s hand, leaving it in the same spot.
“blake, i hope he doesn’t bother you.”
“what, how could he.” he kneeled petting his puffy black hair. “right bud?, you’re adorable” blake turned into his back, to get some love in his belly.
okay, this is really cute, i feel bad for getting wet at the sight of him like this, being sweet to my dog.
“want a drink?, water, vodka, tequila?”
“no, i’m fine. i would prefer to get back were we left it.” blake has lost his interest on him and went to his bed.
“okay, you can go to my room, i’ll be there in a minute.” he looks around the house looking for the destination, “upstairs.” he nods and heads up. “blake. i have some… stuff to do, so please don’t cockblock me, please love, you’ll get a lot of treats tomorrow.” his ears move when he hears ‘treats’.
i grab a cushion from the couch and put it at the beginning of the stairs, hoping he can’t jump over it. “love ya, i’m really sorry if you hear something!” i whisper-scream.
getting near the door i smooth my skirt out and take may hair out of my face.
when i enter harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, he’s cheeks look very red now that i see them in a different light. i smile at him and he smiles at me.
“you look great in red. in your cheeks and my tie” i whisper as i sit in his lap.
“thanks, i might borrow it for another day.”
“you’re still, you know, hard?” i say almost laughing at how cringe that sounded to me.
“you’re wet?” he says. i nod, desperate to kiss him. “perfect.”
his hands crawls up my knee, ass and thigh, reaching my underwear, which was very much soaked.
“i feel flattered, love, i haven’t touched you and look at this” he makes me stand in my knees and slides my panties down my legs, finally showing the mess i made. “we’re gonna keep the skirt if that’s fine with you” i nod and he kisses me.
as soon as the kisses starts it becomes a kiss full of passion. he undoes my white shirt and i do the same with his black shirt.
he’s now laying down, his legs hanging from the bed and im right in top of him, my core against his belt, which feels weird in a good way.
i moan when he sits down, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it backwards. “your really pretty when you’re all flustered.”
he slides the shirt down my shoulders and for my bralette he slides it upwards, passing through my head.
“i feel like you have an advantage here.” i look down his opened shirt and pants, hell, he even has his shoes on.
“take whatever you want.” he smiles and kisses the in middle of my breasts.
i hug his neck with both of my arms, letting him please me with his kisses and bites in my chest.
he pays equal attention to both, i think he gave the same amount of bites to each, i don’t know, i was enjoying myself to much to care.
when i fell his mouth starting to separate from me i begin to go down his body, taking the tie and the shirt off, kissing his shoulder, chest, stomach and his boner from above the denim material.
he groans desperately but doesn’t move, just seats there with his hands on each side of his body. “you’re really a tease, baby.” he whispers.
“i think it will be worth it.” i say, quickly undoing his jeans and sliding off his boxer, leaving his cock free.
i think of what to do for a second, i could do a handjob or a blowjob, i finally decide in a hybrid.
i first take his length in my right hand, slowly feeling his body react, his legs move a bit and his body leans back. i then start to move down, making my eyes align with his crotch, and with my hand still in the base i start by wrapping my mouth at the tip. his makes a beautiful sharp gasp.
“god’s fucking sake.” he decides to look down at me, looking deep into my eyes.
harry
her eyes are gonna be the death of me. she can look evil but also innocent. and that makes me want to take her right now and leave her dumb fucked.
my dick disappears in her mouth, over and over again, i don’t know how she manages to keep a consistent move in her hands and in her mouth, including her tongue and her head. the guitar must help her multitasking abilities.
“love, t-that s-sss amazing. ah, but i w-won’t last a lot longerr and i will like to do sooo… much m-more with y-ya…”
she gets my dick out of her mouth, god that’s so dirty, an i love it. but yeah, she does so, chuckling a bit with a sense of pride, some drool goes down her chin, she’s perfect.
“okay, next time i guess.” fuck yeah, hopefully.
“now it’s my turn” she come back up, sitting her naked clit into my semi, this little minx jumped into my dick, and she knows it, she smiles.
“sorry.”
“you’re not.” i smile.
“no, i’m not.” she smiles.
“but you will.” i grab her hips from under the washed denim mini skirt and switched our position, leaving her laying down on her chest and me above her, looking at the greatest fucking view; her face was looking at me over her shoulder, he naked back and her skirt rolled up, leaving nothing to the imagination, her ass was in perfect alignment with my eyes.
i decided to be a little wild and spank her, she moaned, but i quickly turned to look at her “was that okay?”
“yeah… fucking perfect.” she moaned more.
“who would’ve thought…” i say, giving her another one, this one harder, making her cheeks giggle.
i pull her skirt even further, and also pulled from her hips to make her stick her ass up, giving me better access to her clit. i begin caressing her outer lips, soft touches to get her desperate and my fingers getting lubricated.
i inserted one of them, the ring finger to be specific. she moans softly, pushing her hips back. “more…”
“patience, love, want to cherish the moment.” but i do what she says, i enter another and begin to diversify my movements. when i get to a specific and wet point i feel her body shake.
“t-t… there.” she sighs “right therrre.” she purrs.
she looks so angelic like this: baby hairs stick to her sweaty forehead, eyes closed, mouth open full or profane sounds, i also see her stimulating her breasts, just like she could read my mind.
when i put my third finger in i feel her lips stretch, so i turn my hand, she screams at my move. “shh… we don’t want to scare blake, or anyone for that matter. would hate for someone to interrupt, right?”
“mhm” she opens her eyes, they are watering now, i don’t know whether to worry or to be turned on.
“everything okay there, baby?” i ask pulling her hair to the side to look at her fully.
“gr-great!” she sights when i touch her newly founded button.
i feel some more palpitating, some more stretching and i see her jaw being clenched. she’s close.
“you’re getting there, aren’t you?”
“yess! i’m goo…” sight “gonna cum.” her hips push against my hand, i took my index finger out because it felt like i couldn’t move my hand at all.
“patience baby, let it all out” i groan at her cunt stretching around my hand.
she screams my name, might be my new favorite sound of all time. it’s a mix of a hoarse and sweet voice.
she stops moving her hips i see a bit of liquid being thrown against my still moving hand, she squirted. i try really hard not to cum also.
she pants and groans. one hand reaches to mine, telling me to stop.
“good job, love” i slowly take my hand up and taste her discard. i then lean to kiss her cheek.
“want you inside of me” she whispers against the mattress.
“of course baby, just waiting for you to catch your breath at least.” i chuckle. she pouts but stays still.
“i’m fine. i just want you to fuck me.” she looks at me undress completely. biting her lip as she check me out.
“ouch, wouldn’t thought you’ll just use me like that, love, thought this was real.” i say jokingly offended and also a bit nervous. maybe this is just a one night thing, and i wouldn’t like it to end like this.
“maybe it is, but i would really like you to fuck me good so i can consider you as a potential candidate.”
nice answer, miss y/n.
“fine, firstly, do you have any condoms?” she sakes her head no.
“i’ve got iud and clean. if you’re up and clean we can make it raw.” she says nonchalantly.
“fucking hell” i go to kiss her mouth, gripping her cheek harshly, “i’ll make you scream really loud, so i think we could put this to some more use”, i say taking the tie from the floor.
she smiles, curious. i hover over her body again, pass the tie through her head to stop at her mouth, tightening it.
“wow” she barely says.
“you can grip me at the arm of you want to stop, okay?” she nods. “show me” she takes my forearm and tightens her grip around it two times. “good girl.” i kiss her cheek again.
i look down, she still has that fucking skirt i hope every time she uses it she remembers who fucked her in that, i direct my dick into her clit. i soak my tip into her cum and wetness.
and finally i enter, our mouth open at the contact, i thrust slowly and fully, i stay there “goodness, this is g-ood.” i whisper in her ear, she moans quietly.
“look at me angel.” she deserves the nickname. i could take a picture of this obscene and artistic piece. “can i take a picture?, i promise ill protect it with my life…”
she hesitates a bit, but when she looks at me in the eyes she nods “yeah”.
i lean over to the bedside table, take my phone and quickly snap one time.
“move?” she says.
“as you wish.” i let my phone slide off my hand and focused solely on her.
i put one hand next to her face , the other went to her hip. giving me the base i need to get her good.
my hips roll against hers, looking at her face to her ass and back and forth.
i quickly gain a fast, hard and pleasing pace.
she hides her face into the pillow and grips the bedsheets tightly. her muffled moans and screams, my groans and screams and the sound of our bodies colliding is the only sound i listen to, and maybe in a 1 mile radius.
“doing good, l-love?” i ask her, my breathing is shaky, maybe not that sexy.
“mhm.” she turn her face to look at me “y-yesh…”
“look so fricking good like this…” i wished i could look at her full face.
she screams something that sounds like my name, and i know i need to she her climaxing around my dick.
“we’re g-gonna turn…” groan “you around, ‘right?”
“yeahyeahyeah” she said.
“h-hug, hug your leg darling.” i pat her left leg , she struggles a bit but makes it. with the force i have i turn her almost limb body.
she moans when her back hits the mattress and i thrust into her faster, while kissing her face, she entangles both her hands in my hair, pulling. fuck.
“hmm. c-c… cum!” she sights into my neck.
thanks love, i wouldn’t like to burst before you.
“perfect. relax, baby…” i groan, struggling to keep that fast of a pace, she’s squeezing my dick so hard and i might come way too fast.
“ha… haffy!” she screams again.
“i’m cu…ming love.”
i feel her groaning at the overstimulation, so i give a final thrust and let it all out.
y/n
i’ve been talking with harry for probably 30 minutes, after last night fucking midblowing fuck i barely was awake, but harry made me change into some pajamas and then he changed the bedsheets. it was the best aftercare ever.
“would you like to go for a coffee later in the evening?” he says looking at me with his beautiful green eyes.
“yeah, as long as blake can come.” i say jokingly.
“of course, love, little man is always welcome.”
“see? that’s what makes me want you every day and every night!” i hit his chest lightly, he chuckles. “you can’t say shit like that, i’ll get attached.”
“is that something wrong?” he smiles. “i also want you, i really like you, and it might be too soon, but i would like to get to know you and be something else.”
“i would love that too.”
178 notes · View notes
valuunit · 1 year ago
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best dad ever
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summary: it’s dad’s day and harry and his family celabrate it in the most chaotic way
here in mexico today’s celebrated father’s day, so yeah, i wrote this.
Content: She/her pronouns. children lol, a itty bitty of smut, i wanted to write something but i couldn’t, im with my family 💀, food, pregnancy. oh, mommy is used a couple of times sexually, but nothing crazy. that’s it ig :)
Disclaimer: English is not my first lenguaje so if there’s any mistake i’m sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D
“c’mon guys, dad should be getting up by now.” y/n walked across the hall, standing next to the master bedroom’s door.
“we’re going mum” alisha said behind her baby brother, dereck, who was barely walking with a ballon in his little hand he was holding like his life depended on it.
she sweetly laughed and kissed her two children. “good job, wait here a minute, when i open the door we’re going to say ‘happy day, daddy styles’, alright?”
dereck laughed, showing his father’s dimples on his face, god, he was his dad in all of its splendor.
“yes mummy!”
“perfect.” she entered the room quietly, her bare feet touching the rug she and harry bought when they were moving in together to their first apartment. “harry…!” she whispered.
“hmm.” he mumbled.
“happy day, sleepyhead.” she started crawling into the bed, careful to avoid his limbs and wake him up with pain.
“oh, yeah, dad’s day. i completely forgot about it, like the rest of the world.” his green eyes were barely visible, but charming as always. his view went to his stunning wife, his words, hovering over his body.
“well, i guess i’m an e.t.” she replied closing the space between their faces.
“i guess so, your out of this world.” his hands went to her hips, sitting them in his thighs.
she laughed and kissed his cheek, then cleaning a saliva stain off of it. “you’re still a flirt, aren’t you?”
“just with you, my love” he dragged his hands up, going under her new lace pj top, passing through her spine, shoulders and back down to her ass. he smirked, giving away his intentions, but y/n didn’t.
“wai-” before she could complain a knock on the door separated them.
“well, later then.” he giggled.
“shut up!, your kid prepared something really cute for you.”
“oh, my babies.” he smiled, when someone mentions his kids his eyes light up in such warm light it’s almost heavenly.
“yes, so, act surprised.”
“mummy! a minute has passed!”
“going, baby!” y/n appeared scared of her only daughter while harry laughed so loudly dereck also did.
she quickly turned to the door, now not caring if she kicked harry’s legs or anything, which she did, right on the balls. “oof, baby!”
“sorry!” she squealed and opened the door.
“‘appy ‘ay, da’y styds!” dereck screamed.
“oh my god, good job love, but.” she laughed at the chaoticness of the situation. alisha was also laughing. “now.” she grabbed alisha by the shoulders gently and let them inside the room.
“happy day daddy!”
“‘addy haffy!” dereck jumped, jumped and landed on the bed. where harry was now seated laughing, his hands in this private area.
“my beautiful children, come here!” he opened his arms letting his daughter run towards him.
“careful!” y/n screamed when she saw alisha landing near his legs.
“come here mummy!!”
“yeah mummy, come ‘ere” harry smirked putting dereck and alisha around one arm, having space for his wife.
“going daddy harry” she went, they were happy in the bed, the ballon, which was harry’s face, floating above them, dereck still gripping it.
“what’s that honey?” with all the fuzz, harry didn’t saw that masterpiece. so he looked up, watching a not so attractive picture of him in a medium size ballon. “wow! i love it bud, thanks!” he said faking enthusiasm.
“he loves it bubba!” y/n smiled towards her son, hi smiled even more.
“i also got u something dad!” alisha went to the door, where were a plate with pancakes, that had “best dad ever!” written with nutella and berries.
“thanks honey!, it’s so pretty and sweet”
“any time, dad” alisha replied, harry laughed.
“i taught her that!” y/n said raising her hand and smiling.
“where were we?”
that’s what y/n heard as soon as she got into the bedroom after taking dereck to bed. it’s been a long day of celebrating, so it was relatively easy.
“hm?” she pretended not to have heard, turning around and quietly locking the door.
“i said…” he kissed her shoulder. “where. were. we.” kiss after kiss he was progressively getting closer to her soft spot at the back of her left ear.
“ahm” even with his kissed it was hard to think for her, “i don’t recall… anything.”
“i could make you remember, or maybe you’ll prefer me to left your pretty little mind in blank.”
she turned to face his beautiful, handsome husband. looking at her with as much love and desire as he looks at authentic tiramisu.
“i like the second one better, but first i should tell you something.” she took his cheek and kissed him passionately, slowly and lovingly.
“whatever you need” he said after a couple of minutes. they joined their foreheads, looking into each other’s eyes.
“i’m pregnant, three weeks.”
she smiled so sweetly in response to his reaction. his whole face fell in utter shock, his hands, shaking, took her face and his eyes searched for every bit of honesty his wife had to offer.
“my love, a-are you kidding?” she shook her head no, a couple of tears going down her face into her wide smile.
“that’s, that’s amazing, thank you, thank you, for everything.” he hugged her, lifted her, spun her, loved her.
“yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. now, where were we?” she smirked, her hands in his face.
“no, love, what about the… you know, thingy…” he replied looking at her stomach.
she laughed, hard. “c’mon, you promised leaving me watching stars, now you do it. it will be fine, it’s smaller than a pinhead.”
“you’re so hot, love. before we do anything else can i thank you again?”
“of course. with an orgasm.”
“your wish is my command, mommy.”
167 notes · View notes
valuunit · 1 year ago
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you & I (prince!h)
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synopsis: harry is a royal in love with a serving girl
word count: 5.7k
contains: fluff , nothing crazy I don’t think
. . .
Y/N was a simple serving girl. An orphan by the age of twelve after her mother and father died of influenza, she learnt to live alone and did so graciously. She knew that there was no point in arguing with the forces of life and so she spent much of her time doing small jobs in order to buy a small something to eat in the evenings and keep a roof over her head.
"Y/N, where have you been?" Maria looked at her wide eyed with hands on her hips as she wiped the sweat from her brow.
After a long time of searching for a permanent job, Y/N met Maria at a local market in the town centre of the village. She was at her worst, begging for scraps of food or something that would stop her stomach from rumbling for at least a little while. Maria was kind enough to offer her a tangerine and a job at the Duke's mansion where she would be a serving girl for as long as she could.
She didn't earn a lot but it was enough to get by and she even managed to save up enough to buy a little cottage home outside the town where she had her very own vegetable patch and an apple tree in the front garden.
"I'm sorry Maria, I came across a stall at the market and they were selling fresh loaves of bread. I thought it would be perfect to serve for the Duke with his breakfast." She placed the brown bag on the kitchen counter and took out the loaf of bread.
"Y/N my darling," Maria shook her head, she was use to the girls antics and couldn't help but let it slide. Maria was unmarried and couldn't have any children of her own so, in her eyes, Y/N was a gift sent from heaven and she cared for her as a mother would for her own child. "Pequeña soñadora." (Little dreamer) She wiped the dirt from Y/N's cheek and kissed her forehead.
Y/N grinned and grabbed her apron off of the pegs where the other servants would hang up their aprons as well. She sat on the bench close to the back door where she replaced her small, battered, brown pumps with black, lace up shoes which has a small heel to them.
She grabbed the trays of food which would be served to the Duke for his breakfast. "And what mood is the Duke in today Anthony?" Y/N leaned over and smiled, Anthony was the Duke's servant and was always giving updates on how the Duke was acting.
"The usual my sweet," He says, "Make sure you put a few more raspberries on his pancakes, might do the trick in cheering him up." Y/N nods and carries the tray to the dining hall, Ariana and Taylor following behind her.
They two double doors creek loudly as they're opened by the doorman. Y/N curtsies in front of the Duke and Duchess, keeping her head down as she brings them their breakfast. "Your breakfast my Lord." Y/N speaks, clearly.
"Thank you Y/N." The Duke addresses her and awaits for his plate of breakfast to land in front of him. Y/N takes the plate of raspberries and pours a few more onto his pancakes just like Anthony told him too.
Suddenly, the double doors open again and the sound of clicking shoes against the marble flooring catches Y/N's attention. She looks up as she reaches to grab the pot of tea and makes eye contact with a set of piercing, green eyes.
"Good morning father, sorry I'm late." Harry Styles, son of the Duke, a Marquess, enters the room and sits down in his usual spot opposite his mother.
"And what is your excuse this time boy?" The Duke responded, Y/N's body temperature changing from being so close to the Marquess.
"It was a perfect morning for hunting, took Banksy out with me and went out into the forest." Y/N pours tea into the Duke's mug before walking over to Harry, her pulse raising with every step she took.
"Did you catch anything?" The Duke feasted on his breakfast as he spoke, food getting caught in his greying moustache.
As Y/N poured the tea, her heart hammered against her chest when she felt Harry move his hand to brush against hers. She had a steady hand but was close to pouring the hot tea all over him.
She looked down at Harry who was still looking at his father, pretending the interaction didn't happen but she knew exactly what he meant by it.
"Will that be anything more my Lord?" Y/N asks, it was usual protocol.
The Duke says nothing and waves her off, giving her the signal to leave. Y/N leaves the dining room but doesn't hesitate to turn back and glance over at Harry who's already smiling right back at her.
Breakfast was over and Y/N was given a five minute window before she had to help make lunch. She reached for her coat and wrapped it around herself, looking over her shoulder before walking outside through the back door.
Once she had reached her destination, she looked around and was elated to see the head of brown curls walking towards her. His lean, long legs walking hastily knowing she had such a short amount of time to talk.
Without a moments hesitation, he picked her up and spun her around in his arms, a giggle eliciting from her lips. "Oh my beautiful girl." He grins, happiness apparent in his appearance. "How has it been just little under twenty four hours since I last saw you yet I have missed you ever so much?"
Y/N bites her lip, she could already feel her cheeks aching from a want to smile at his words. "I missed you too Harry." She leans forward and pecks his cheek but he shakes his head, leaning into her and placing his lips onto hers.
"I'd die happy, right here with you." He pulls away and looks at her so deeply into her eyes.
Y/N frowns, her mind was always plagued over the fact that her love with Harry was forbidden. She was a mere serving girl in a house that belonged to Harry's father and would soon belong to him.
"What's wrong baby?" Harry rubs his thumb under eye, feeling her skin beneath his touch.
Y/N nuzzles her cheek against his hand, "Do you ever wonder what life would be like outside these walls?" She murmurs, admitting her desires all of a sudden.
"What do you mean?" He looks at her confused.
"Harry you know there is no possibility for us to be together within this kingdom. Your father is a royal and you are too, as much as you hate to admit it," The more she spoke, the more Harry grew frustrated by her words because as much as he detested the true state of their relationship, he also knew it was true. "But out there my love, there is so much for us, so much we can do. I've seen it."
Harry knew of Y/N's past, she had told him once on a night she would never forget. The night they had their first kiss under the stars in the garden that she adored spending so much time in.
"What are you suggesting?" He knew what she was suggesting but he also knew his little love was so full of dreams and it hurt him knowing she had no way of reaching them considering her class.
She felt her lips turn downwards slightly but she tried to smile, her expression bittersweet knowing she was off in one of her daydreams again. "I'm not suggesting anything Harry, it's merely a dream I have. I know your duty lies here with the Duke and you will live out your life in this mansion where you will marry a rich, beautiful woman and have plenty of children who you will pass the name down to. Whilst I, a poor serving girl, will be at your side until my last dying day."
She tried to pull away from him, the words upsetting her no matter how true they were. She felt Harry grip onto her arm softly, not wanting to hurt her but wanting her to stay. "My sweet girl what on Earth are you talking such nonsense for?" He spoke, "You know I've never wanted to be Duke and the only beautiful woman I will marry is you. You and I will have plenty of children which we will pass our name down to and we will be at each others side for eternity, long after death."
Y/N smiled at his words, imagining the life she could have if his words ever came to life, but they couldn't. "Harry-"
"Baby," He interrupted her, "run away with me."
Her lips parted in shock at what he was suggesting. She shook her head in much disbelief.
"You have no idea what you are saying." She speaks as if she wasn't suggesting it a few minutes ago.
"Oh I know exactly what I'm saying," He smiles, cheekily and pulls her into his embrace.
She looks up at him, resting her head on his shoulder as she whispers into his ear, "The life you'll live Harry, it's nothing like it is here. There are no servants waiting on you and serving you three meals a day. We may not know if we'll even get breakfast let alone supper and we'll have to run away from the village. You'll be missing and the Duke will have no one to give his title to, the Styles name ending with him. Think about this."
"My love I have spent many nights thinking about this, I spend all my nights dreaming of a life with you where we don't have to sneak around to be together. We can live somewhere far away where I can touch you," He runs his fingers down her arm and goosebumps arise, "Feel you," He whispers so close into her ear and digs his fingers into her waist and she gasps but doesn't halt his actions, "Worship you." He kisses the spot under her ear.
"You'd give it all up for me?" She wonders, in awe of the man she was falling in love with.
"I'd give up my life for you." His lips brush against hers, moving in closer to get a kiss from her.
"Y/N?" Maria called from the kitchen.
Y/N pulls away from him, knowing her five minutes were up and she had no choice but to go back and help the other servants. "Your leaving already?" Harry sighs, holding onto her hand so tightly she couldn't let go.
"Lunch is soon to come around so I have to help out in the kitchen." She wished she had more time to spend with him. "Are you still coming over tonight?" She had been excited about tonight considering she and Harry had been planning it for the last two weeks. He was planning on coming to her cottage since the Duke was leaving after lunch for formal duties at the crown court. He wouldn't be back until the morning which gave Harry much opportunity to sneak away and visit her in her little cottage.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world baby." He kisses her passionately before she can leave.
"I love you Harry." She whispers.
"I love you more and don't forget about what I said." He calls after her as she runs back to the kitchens.
She walks in through the back door in a daze, holding her hands to her heart and looking up at the ceiling. Being with Harry always felt like a dream.
She could feel someones eyes on her and looked forward to see Maria glaring at her. She shook her head after they made eye contact, "Estas entrando en aguas peligrosas pequeña soñadora." (You’re entering dangerous waters, little dreamer)
Y/N bit her lip and brushed her off. She knew what she was doing by being with Harry but she wouldn't give him up. She had done that far too much throughout her life and she wanted to be selfish just this once.
Lunch came about quicker than expected and the kitchen was already starting to get hectic as the servants plated up the food for each member of the family. Y/N was preparing the wine which she was going to serve and listened as Maria spoke to the other servants.
Anthony came in to alert everybody that the family were already waiting for their food and everyone picked up the trays of food. Y/N smiled, feeling giddy about seeing Harry after the conversation they had this morning.
The doors opened and she could already see him sat in his usual seat beside his father and opposite his mother. Y/N realised they had caught them mid conversation, her ears perking up to hear what they were talking about.
"Harry, are you prepared for the ball this Saturday night?" The duchess asked, a smile overcoming her features.
"In all honesty mother, it's barely crossed my mind." Harry sighs, his eyes glued to Y/N as she pours the wine in the duchess' glass.
"Well I've had Gerald go to the town to buy your garments. We need to looking spectacular since it's the perfect opportunity to find you a bride."
A loud thud catches the family's attention, their eyes diverting to Y/N who's picking up the jug of wine she had dropped on the floor. "I'm so s-sorry My Lord and Lady." She curtsies, apologising to them profusely.
"It's perfectly alright dear." The duchess places a hand on her to calm her down.
She ignored Harry's eyes on her as she got back to serving the wine. "I've already told you mother, I will do no such thing as finding a bride." He speaks.
"Nonsense Harry," It was the Duke's turn to speak, "We all agreed you would find a bride before the sixth month which is vastly approaching."
Y/N could feel her heart slowly breaking, Harry had never mentioned any of this to her. The sixth month was only a month away which meant they had little to no time in finding a bride.
"You cannot force me to marry father." You could hear the tension in Harry's voice as he tried to control his anger.
The Duke scoffs, "I think you'll find that I can because I am your father and above that the Duke. You are a Marquees Harry, you will be taking my title and carrying on the bloodline so, yes, I can force you to marry."
The servants were trying to go about their business knowing of the rise in tension in the room but Y/N couldn't ignore what was going on. Harry was going to find a bride and he didn't tell her of the short amount of time he had to find one.
"You and mother have always said to marry for love - I cannot force myself to fall in love with somebody." The Duke ignores Harry's words so he looks to his mother for help but she shakes her head, trying to stop him from angering the Duke even further.
Harry looks over at Y/N again, he knew she was hearing every word the family was saying and his heart felt heavy when he noticed the glassy look in her eyes as she kept her head down to avoid him.
Unable to control his rage, he hits his closed fist against the table, the entire thing shaking and startling everyone around him. "I have done so much for both of you, taken part in every duty you have signed me up to when you both know I'd rather die than keep my title. The least you could do is accommodate my one desire of refusing to marry someone I do not love." He spits, eyes filled with fury at both his parents.
The room is filled with an eerie silence with nothing but Harry's heavy breathing as the servants stand away from the table to one side, keeping their heads down.
Finally the Duke looks up at Harry, "You will be at the ball this Saturday night boy." Harry doesn't bother staying to hear the rest, he stands up and storms out of the room. The Duchess turns to the servants and apologises in a flustered state at the actions of her son.
Lunch was over before it had even begun and the servants had no choice but to clear up the plates which were still loaded with uneaten food. "Unbelievable." Ariana muttered under her breath, it was never fun when they had slaved away in the kitchen only for their food to go un-eaten.
Y/N was too far in her own head to respond, trying to mentally heal the heartbreak she was feeling after the whole ordeal at lunch. She carried the cups away with her and left the room to deliver them to the kitchen.
As she was about to turn the corner, she felt a tug on the end of her dress and was startled to see Harry, sympathy in his eyes. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted her to follow him and, as much as she tried to fight herself, she followed him.
Harry pulled her into a vacant room that wasn't often used regularly. Y/N stood with her arms crossed waiting for him to talk. He paced back and forth and Y/N made no effort to calm him down even though she could see the torment across his features.
He finally looks at her, "Can I kiss you please?"
Y/N doesn't get the chance to say anything before he walks over and cups her face in his hands, kissing her lips. Y/N melted into him like she did every time. No matter what was going on between them, he never failed to make her feel so wanted and that was something she never often felt growing up.
But she couldn't deny the incessant reminder in her head that even though she was wanted now by him, she may not be in the future. After Saturday night he could make someone feel the exact same way and she refused to put herself in a situation like that.
"Harry," She pulled away, "Don't come over tonight." She hadn't even realised she had started crying until she wiped away a stray tear from her face.
She forced herself out of his embrace and turned away from him. She could hear him calling her name from behind. However, she knew Harry was stubborn so she had no choice but to be the one to walk away.
It was for the best. They had both always known that their relationship was doomed from the very beginning and now was the time to accept that.
Y/N walked home in the dark after a hard day at work. She carried a whicker basket with a loaf of bread inside that Maria had kindly sneaked her after supper was served in the evening. Considering the day she had, she was glad to have a little something to look forward to.
At the sight of her tiny cottage, her shoulders relaxed. She was so happy to finally be at home and away from everywhere else where she had time to think to herself. She immediately walked to the kitchen to heat up the loaf of bread and prepare a vegetable broth to have for dinner.
As she was about to add in her chopped carrots, a knock sounded at the door. Her eyebrows furrowed when she tries to this of who could be here at this time of day. She walked to the front door and held her ear to it in hopes it would give her an idea of who was there but it was impossible to make out any sound.
"Y/N it's me." Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke, her mind dividing her opinion of whether or not to open it for him. "I just want to talk to you, I-I want to explain everything and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but you have to believe me when I tell you all of this is what my father wanted... All I want is you."
Y/N was holding onto the door knob as she listened to him speak until one choice outweighed the other and she opened the door to reveal a sad looking Harry. He was a disheveled mess, his hair all over the place like he'd been running his fingers through it over and over in frustration.
Despite the flash of guilt that came to her, she stood her ground, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Harry couldn't help but grin as she tried her best to look angry, he knew she wouldn't hurt a fly. "You're so cute." He says, not caring how angry she was. He was always going to compliment her no matter what mood she was in.
"Did you follow me?" Y/N wondered, he had never been to her home before which was why tonight was so exciting for them.
"Maybe or maybe I asked Maria." He shrugged. "Can I please come in?"
Y/N wanted to keep him outside so he wouldn't think she'd forgive him so easily for not telling her about the deal Harry had with his parents but she was cold and tired and her soup was still on the stove. So, she moved to the side and allowed him entry.
Harry's face softened and he thanked her as he passed by. Y/N released a sigh and lead the way to the kitchen where she walked to the stove and went back to making her soup. "Your home is perfect, exactly how I thought it would be." Harry speaks, admiring the simplicity and cosiness of the home, wishing he had something remotely similar.
"Exactly how you thought it would be?" She wonders, smiling to herself since her back was to him.
"Mhm," He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, she couldn't help but sink into him. "Soft and pink." He murmured, "I'm sorry Y/N. I know I should have told you about the whole thing with my mother and father but I never thought it mattered when my plan has always been to run away with you."
Y/N turned around in his embrace and looked at him confused, "What are you talking about?"
"Baby, since the day I met you you had me wrapped around this tiny little finger," He held up Y/N's hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips before placing it to his cheek so he could feel her soft skin, "I've always had dreams of running away with you, living a life of simplicity with just the two of us and maybe a few little ones too." He placed his hand on her belly and butterflies swarmed under his touch.
"You're crazy, you heard what your father said Harry. Maria likes to call me a little dreamer but she has yet to meet you," She pushed him away and turned back around to take the soup off of the stove.
"Why do you act like this isn't something you dream of as well." Harry was starting to get annoyed with people telling him that what he desired wasn't achievable.
"Of course I have dreamt of running away with you many times and-"
"The let's do it," He steps in front of her, picking up both of her hands in his, "Let's leave this place and be together."
She could see the true desperation in his eyes and she wanted nothing more than to say yes, "W-we can't."
Harry stepped away, "Why? Why can't we?"
Y/N looked at him and felt the flood gates fall open, tears running down her cheeks, "Because I am in love with you Harry." She confesses, having never confessed it before, "I am so in love with you my heart could burst and it's that exact reason I have no choice but to give you what's best. Maybe in another life, where class wasn't important and being poor was no longer a cause of death, we could be together but I love you so much and I want nothing more than for you to have everything you need."
Harry was speechless. "Y/N," He reached for her, pulling her into his chest as she cried. He touched her so delicately, looking into her eyes and seeing the love and heartbreak twirling around together in an achingly beautiful dance. "I love you too."
She sobbed even harder and kissed him on the lips, "Thank you for loving me so strongly my love but you have to understand, I don't want to be the next Duke. Not because of you or anyone else, it's a feeling I've had for as long as I can remember. My whole life I've been told what to do by my father and mother but you were the only person who saw me as something other than a Marquees. You've been the only thing I've needed to know I need to take control over my own life and so I need you to run away with me. Please, Y/N."
Y/N had been fighting hard for so long, knowing what was best for him and knowing how many problems this would cause if she were to say yes. She was tossing between her mind and heart but her heart was always going to win, it always did. "When?" She whispers.
Harry exhaled, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. He kissed her so fiercely, harder than he had ever done before. They were finally going to get what they had both dreamt of, "Tonight. I've already told Maria and she's asked her husband to get us as far away from here as possible."
"You spoke to Maria about this?" Y/N was surprised Maria knew this was happening and even more surprised she was willing to give them money for their escape.
"It was the only way for me to know where you lived." Harry confessed. "You'll have to leave all this behind but we'll find a home and make it ours."
Y/N's heart warms. The soup was long forgotten about now as she ran about packing a small bag of her most valuable possessions to take with her.
Harry nodded in reassurance at her and lead her outside where he already had a horse waiting for them. It would be their main source of transport until they could got to the harbour where a boat would be waiting to take them away.
"Are you sure of this Harry?" She wanted to double check before they carried out the life changing decision.
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." Harry says and helps her onto the horse. She glances back at her cottage. It was bittersweet leaving it behind, it was the first home she purchased in her whole twenty three years of living after being homeless but now she was going to be living somewhere new with Harry and money wasn't something she had to worry about for the time being considering Harry had bought a few valuables of his own for them to sell in order to start their new life.
They reached the harbour just as the sun was starting to rise. Y/N jumped off the horse and ran over to Maria who was arguing with her husband over something to do with the safety of the boat. Maria opened her arms when she noticed Y/N running towards her, "mi pequeño soñador." Maria teared up, "Be safe my love and don't forget to write to me."
Y/N nodded, crying with Maria who had been the only person before Harry who had always been there for her. Maria's husband was going to be taking them to the next border so they would be far enough to find somewhere to hide away.
"Baby," Harry reached out for Y/N's hand as he stood on the boat waiting for her.
"Thank you Maria for everything." Y/N cried and took Harry's hand, glancing back at Maria.
She waved to her as the boat began to sail away. She was sat in-between Harry's legs with her back against his chest, "I love you." He whispered, kissing her cheek.
"I love you too." Y/N responded, looking out at the sunrise feeling excited for her bran new life.
. . .
Four Years Later.
The sun shone through the window as it began to rise. Y/N felt the warmth from the sun rays hit her bare back as she lay in bed in the softest, white sheets. Harry ran a finger up and down her spine as he watched her sleep.
He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and up her neck, "Are you hungry sweet girl?" He whispered.
Y/N smiled and nodded her head, slowly opening her eyes and meeting his green ones. Before Y/N had the chance to reply, the door to their bedroom creaked open and in waddled a their little baby.
"Mmmmaama!" Marie squealed, wearing nothing but a pullover around her waist. She was three years old but looked a year younger, she was born pre-mature and since Y/N was already quite small, Marie was tiny.
Harry's head fell onto Y/N's bare chest as he let out a groan, wanting time with his beautiful wife which was very rare considering they had a very clingy toddler.
"Dada no!" Marie tried to crawl onto the bed, clinging onto the blankets in a tight fist to try and pull herself onto the bed.
"C'mere Ri Ri," Harry chuckled, picking her up and placing her between Harry and Y/N.
"Maaamaaa!" Marie squealed and reached for her mother.
"Good morning little dove." Y/N kissed her chubby cheeks.
Harry smiled, he loved watching his girls interact together. "Hey Ri Ri, wanna come with dada to pick some fruit from the garden?"
Marie squealed, not really understanding what her father had said but agreed with him anyway. "Let's go cherry, let mama get dressed." He kissed Y/N on the forehead before grabbing the baby.
This was their life now.
They had ran away together four years ago and it was the best decision either of them could have made. For a while, both Y/N and Harry struggled to make a life for themselves. They were staying in a small hut as Harry went to work on a farm whilst Y/N worked at a local food shop.
They were so close to giving up in that moment but Harry was prepared to keep his promise of the life they both desired. They ended up travelling further down south after saving up enough money to buy a permeant place to live where they found a small cottage.
After a while, Harry had found a job on a job which gave him enough money to get by. Y/N also had a small job working three days a week at a hat shop but a year later she fell pregnant with Marie so for now she was only working twice a week.
There was no word on what happened to the Duke after Harry's disappearance. Both Y/N and Harry tried their best to avoid any talk of the Duke and Duchess but it didn't stop them from hearing rumours in their local town.
Y/N got dressed into one of her favourite dresses Harry had bought her for her birthday two years ago. She put on her boots to go outside where she saw Harry, wearing nothing but black trousers and boots as he held Marie who was now dressed into something besides her pullover.
She walked over to them and pressed her hand to Harry's bare back, catching his attention. Marie was picking apples off of the apple tree that had even planted in their back garden before they had bought the house.
Marie held up the apple to Harry, "That looks perfect Ri Ri," She giggled and put the apple in the brown basket.
"Marie decided we were going to have pancakes with fruit for breakfast." Harry updated Y/N.
"Oh that sounds wonderful." Y/N kissed Marie and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss Harry.
"You look beautiful." Harry says, his compliments never failing to make her blush. "Can we have another baby?"
Y/N laughed but he was completely serious about it, "Harry-"
"Let me put a baby in you." He pouted, "It'll be fun!"
"Fifteen minutes for nine months of pain? Sounds like fun to me," Her pregnancy with Marie was really difficult and swore her off having kids for the rest of her life.
“You know it’s a lot longer than fifteen minutes thank you very much.” He pinches her sides, "I won't force you because I know it's your body, m’love but just know whenever your ready I'll be right here to fulfil your wishes." He smirked and Y/N nudged him.
"Mamaa look!" Marie held out her chubby hand that was full of raspberries.
"Wow dove! Can mama try one?" She crouched down and opened her mouth for Marie to place a raspberry. "Delicious." She hummed and Marie giggled.
Y/N stood up and looked to Harry, "Maybe we can have another baby."
Harry grins, "I'll call Estella." He says, referring to Marie's babysitter.
He wraps one arm around Y/N's waist as they both stand and watch Marie picking berries in the home they dreamt of having together. He kissed her forehead, "I'm glad you ran away with me." He speaks softly into her ear, happy with the life he finally got to choose.
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valuunit · 1 year ago
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