#I’d do Niall

[tommosgun]

'If you were a girl for 24hrs what would you do?'

Harry: 'I'd do Niall! Happy pride.' 28.6.14 x

[larrysblooming]

i literally hate myself so bad rn 🙂🔫

[strawberrysturniolo]

i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?

next thing you know….

never grow up // chris sturniolo

summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2

Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb. 

Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.

It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. 

The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls. 

We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other. 

We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like. 

A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life. 

“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16. 

“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”

He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float. 

He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away. 

As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open. 

“Miss me?”

Chris. 

I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom. 

“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off. 

He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”

Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew. 

I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did. 

“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before. 

“I missed your voice.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“

“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”

His face falls. “Yeah.”

I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it. 

“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”

He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”

I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things. 

Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me. 

“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves. 

He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny. 

My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can. 

He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead. 

He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh. 

A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about. 

“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”

“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me. 

I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much. 

“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”

I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better. 

A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet. 

He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did. 

“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory. 

I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right. 

Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.

When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes. 

“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy. 

“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it. 

He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers. 

I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me. 

We will always be rooting for each other no matter what. 

“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.

“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion. 

He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.” 

I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh. 

The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”

He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else. 

He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening. 

“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”

He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”

Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?” 

“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”

“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”

There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life. 

“What?”

“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”

I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”

He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”

Somehow, his feels different. 

I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me. 

I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house. 

So I kissed his cheek like always. 

I tried to.

But Chris moved his head.

His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely. 

He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked. 

I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair. 

What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years. 

I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other. 

I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.

He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds. 

We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”

“What do you want to do then?”

He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.

He does the opposite. 

“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”

My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. 

Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house. 

And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in. 

“Then do something about it,” I taunt.

He loves this invitation.

Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different. 

He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on. 

His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red. 

“Holy shit.”

I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down. 

“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”

He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.

I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation. 

“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”

I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation. 

When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere. 

“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”

I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”

In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.

“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”

I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me. 

“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.

He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs. 

I love you.

He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me. 

My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him. 

When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears. 

I’m having sex with my best friend. 

He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.

“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up. 

“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down. 

His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us. 

Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”

All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”

He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.

He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”

I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this. 

My best friend and I fucked. 

And he doesn’t do relationships. 

“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back. 

He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.

I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship. 

We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this. 

Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest. 

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

[jarofstyles]

Ultramarine- Indigo 7

Hello! Here is a cute part of Indigo, I'm sorry she's a slow burn but I really love them so I don't wanna rush them <3

Check out Patreon for early access to the next part and 150+ Exclusive writings

Indigo Masterlist

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- mention of trauma and bullying (brief) and sexual tension ;)

----------------

Y/N was grabbing lunch with him. 

Harry’s hand ached, the 5 hour session being particularly grueling regardless of how used his muscles were to the gun. He used arthritic cream on it and his wrist as he took a break in his office, finally checking his phone. As impressed as he was with the woman who had come and sat for 5 hours, he’d wished she wanted a break when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. H was giddy and anxious to see what Y/N was saying- she was the only one who texted him during the day besides Niall with stupid tiktok links and his Mum sending photos of her cats. 

When he’d opened it up to see her question, he didn’t hesitate to agree. It didn’t matter if he hurt, he wanted to take any excuse he could to see her. 

Y/N; Hiiii! I know this is super last minute so do not be afraid to say no but did you want to grab lunch at around 2:30? 

H: Absolutely I do. Sorry for the late reply, I was finishing a tattoo. It isn’t too late to say yes, is it? 

Y/N: Oh, amazing :) And no, not too late. I’m kind of bored today, I finished a project and told myself I needed to relax but… I feel restless and I missed you a little bit.

Harry felt himself flush at her response, knowing if anyone saw him at this moment they wouldn't recognize him. His smile was wide and face as pink as he collected himself, grateful that he was in his own office so he could freely feel. 

H: Only a little bit? X 

Y/N: Well if I said I missed you a lot I’d be a weirdo, wouldn't I? We just saw each other. 

H: Well call me a weirdo too then, I suppose. Because I did. 

H: A lot, if you couldn’t tell. 

Y/N: You are very cute. I’ll be there in a few :) 

—-

“Yeah, it’s kinda fucked.” Harry sighed as Y/N took his hand into her own from across the little table. “Usually I love a long session but I’ve been doing them a few days in a row. S’my own fault, but I was hoping for a tap out for once.” He laughed through his nose before it turned into a groan, feeling small thumbs begin to rub over his palm. Y/N pouted ever so lightly, moving in slow circles on the skin and digging in slightly before meeting his eye. 

“You’ve got to take care of yourself.” The scold was lighthearted but he could see it on her face. She meant it. It made his chest flutter a little that she cared enough to do that. He was used to basically being on his own, mostly by choice but because it was easy for people to fake concern to get gossip- but he knew Y/N meant it. Her gentle massage on his hand, trying to ease his aching was a nice touch. Her half-drunk smoothie was in front of her, leaving her fingers cool to the touch and another nice addition to the soothing touch. “Shouldn’t wait for them to tap out. You should schedule them in smaller increments so you don’t put too much strain on your poor hands.” Y/N’s eyes met him for a moment before looking away. “They’re too pretty to be hurting.”

He had been surprised by the gall, if he was honest. Y/N had been a bit more shy when coming to this sort of thing but he was mentally preening, not able to hide the smile curling on his lips as he flexed his hand in her grasp. “Yeah? Think I’ve got pretty hands?” He hummed. “Got a bunch of calluses. Some scars. My nail polish is chipped.” Was he fishing for a compliment? A little bit. He wanted a few of them, especially when she had seemed to like his best tools. 

“Of course. Just shows you work with your hands, know how to use them.” She stated. “It’s something a lot of people don’t know how to do anymore. The scars add character, and the nail polish is cute. It can always be redone.” She flipped his hand over but continued the slight massage, looking at his long, nimble fingers stretched over her wrists. He had a few rings on them which she knew he took off while tattooing, his fabric bracelets slightly worn besides the silver cuff on the non tattooed wrist. Harry liked to decorate his body and that was obvious. He’d told her he sometimes struggled with expression verbally, so she had a hunch that he used this to express himself. “And I also love the eyeliner thing. It’s attractive too.” 

She tacked on the compliment and his smile grew into a grin, shaking his head as he squeezed over her hands with a laugh. “Laying on all the compliments today, yeah? D’want something from me?” All she had to do was ask. The shivers in his body made him more than willing to hand shit over on a silver platter. His eyeliner had been a few years ongoing, a simple charcoal pencil smudging around his eyes. Apparently it brought out the green even more and he did have a few colors. Perhaps one day Y/N would want to do it for him. 

“No, no. Just figure people don’t do it as often as they should.” She sighed, dropping one of his hands to take a sip of her smoothie. The contact felt good. Especially since he kept a grip on her hand and swiped his thumb over the back of hers, the gentleness a stark contrast to the chain around his neck, metal on his face and ink on his skin. He was the opposite of what someone would expect, and somehow that made Y/N yearn for even more of him. 

“Well.. Thanks. But I’d prefer you to be the one doing the compliments. I know you’re not full of shit.” His smirk made her scoff but she merely continued sipping before moving on. Surely many people meant the compliments they gave him but she knew that he wouldn’t believe them regardless. That was the thing about growing up with that sort of trauma. When you were bullied growing up, seen as a butt of a joke, it was harder to accept people’s genuine kindness. It saddened her immensely, but this wasn’t the place to unpack that. 

“You’d have to be dead to not see how attractive you are, H. But I don’t want to give you too much of an ego boost or you’ll leave me in the dust.” Her foot nudged him under the table. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over this weekend? I was thinking of trying out a few cookie recipes and I need a baking assistant- or at the very least, a taste tester.” She offered, trying to hide her nerves. They were at a weird crossroads of developing relationships. Not official, not exactly fully comfortable enough to be shooting plans the day of but still craving their company quite strongly. They weren’t seeing anyone else, at least she hoped so, but they didn’t have a label. 

“Are you kidding?” He barked out a laugh. “Of fucking course I do. Used to help my nan back in the day in the kitchen. Christmas breads and sweets galore. You’ve got an old pro on your hands.” Was he vastly overvaluing his kitchen skills? A bit. He knew his way around decently enough, but he wanted to get that smile on her face- which succeeded. 

“Oh, lovely.” She chirped. “Then yes, I’d love for you to come over. We’ll get something to eat because m’not sure either of us are going to want to be in the kitchen for more than the cookies.” He watched her nose wrinkle making his heart skip a beat. There were tiny Y/N mannerisms he wanted to get to know. This one in particular he found to be stupidly cute, each time it happened making him smile internally. 

“Mhm. I understand. We’ve got a kitchen quota we don’t want to max out.”

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand on her waist stopped her from taking another step further, Y/N grinning to herself as she paused in her step. She had done it just to see what Harry would do, and so far she had been correct. Her hopes had been granted. 

“Hm? Home.” She grinned up at him, eyes not able to hide the mischief in them as she moved back towards him. “Is there a problem?”

“I think we need to establish a few things.” His voice dropped, crowding her back against her car. Y/N had started this but felt the air get sucked from her lungs as her back pressed agaisnt the cold metal of her door, eyes widening slightly as she was peering up at him with far less smugness as before. “I don’t like leaving without a proper goodbye, hm? And you know what I’m missing, yeah Darling?” of course she did. She had been aching for it just as badly, the tiny one she got in greeting not even half of the one she needed now, but she wanted to make him work for it a little bit. 

“What’s that?” She hummed, biting her lower lip to try and control the grin threatening to break out on her face. The uncontrollable urge to giggle as he seemed to clock the look on her face, shaking his head at her and clicking his tongue while tilting her head up to meet him. It was the closest she could get to a swoon, sure there were little hearts in her pupils as he tapped the bottom of her lip and tugged it from her teeth. 

Christ. 

“I think you know.” He muttered. “Cruel, cruel little angel. What d’want from me, hm? Do you want me to beg?” His eyes scanned her face. “M’not one to get on my knees for that reason, but I think I could do so for you.” 

Y/N’s knees felt weak as he pinned her with his stare, a quivering in her stomach making her blink rapidly at him. Get on his knees? She could only imagine what he did on his knees and the image of him peering up at her with his mouth tucked between her thighs and her knee over his shoulder, working to get his tongue up inside her made her feel hot all over. The mental image was precisely his goal, she found, as his grin rose back and morphed into a smirk as she barely held back a whimper when her lip was stroked by the thumb in question. She had played with the lion as a sweet little lamb, and found herself right in his jaws. 

“N-No. Don’t have to beg, but I think it would be cute.” She cursed internally at the stutter, showing her weakness front and center as his face got a bit closer to hers, nose brushing the bridge of hers before moving down to the tip. Being this close made her dizzy, the sweet spice of his cologne and the mint of his gum overwhelming her. The man trapped her against her car, getting closer than she had been to a man in public, but she was pathetic. Internally she was gagging for it, tilting her head up to try and catch his mouth-

Only for him to pull back just enough to miss. A spark in his eye made her want to stomp her foot, the man teasing her more than she had anticipated. Y/N had tried to get the upper hand but it was obvious that the more comfortable he got, the more power he would wield with her. She had been a bit of a fool for thinking that a man like him wouldn’t turn this over, but she had felt like trying her luck. 

“Cute? Think it would be cute?” He muttered under his breath. “Well, I’m glad you think so. But I know what this is, little angel. Prettiest little Sunflower, trying to tease me.” Realistically, Harry knew she hadn’t a clue about the true power she had over him, but he would let that remain a secret for a bit longer. “What I meant, by a proper goodbye… Is that I’d like to feel these pretty lips before you leave me.” There was an audible hitch in her throat, making him hold back the smile, ghosting his lips against hers. “You did something to me… m’convinced. Put a spell in your lipgloss or somethin’ like that. Made me crave it. I’m more of a gentleman these days, because the first thing I wanted to do was lick into this pretty little mouth when I saw you today. I controlled it, but I can tell it’ll be a problem later on down the line. I need something sweet to hold me over, y’feel me, doll?” He tapped her lip with his thumb, gently tugging it down before it snapped back up. 

Y/N could barely breathe. Sometimes, she found, Harry had these bursts of being pure sex appeal. It was broken up by cute, soft and shy boy, but when he got in this sort of mood she found it hard to keep her vision from swimming. A floaty feeling, making her swallow thickly and nod in a jerking motion as she tried to get up on her tiptoes to catch his lips only to be deprived again. This time she did make a noise of frustration, brows furrowing as she looked at his hooded eyes. It wasn’t fair! 

“Oh, m’sorry Sunflower. Couldn’t let you have it that easy when you were about t’leave me without a kiss. Got a mean streak in you, but I’ll take it. You’re sweet and tart, like a Cherry.” He laughed, leading her arm to loop over his neck. “If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you. Give you what you want, maybe even more.” She was rewarded, finally, with a tiny kiss to her pout before pulling back.  “But if you want to play games… You’ve gotta remember that m’a nasty competitor.”

Y/N could believe it. Harry oozed ‘win or nothing’ energy and she had tested it now, feeling how quickly she was going to fold. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to test this out when she had more resolve, but she had felt similarly to him the whole time. She wanted him just as badly, and playing with fire wasn’t cutting it right now. The only burn she wanted from him was a big of beard burn between her thighs. “M’sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll be sweet.” 

“I heard a silent ‘for now’ after that, but that’s good enough for me.” He rewarded her heavily. Kissing her fully, capturing her lips between his own and pulling her into him as he did so. Harry kissed just how he looked. Intense, hot. She let out a little noise feeling his tongue brush past and the cool metal of his tongue piercing hit hers. It was another reminder of how he would definitely be one to blow her mind when he got on his knees for her, because Harry didn’t seem like the type to do anything half assed. He had the ability to make her feel like she was boiling inside and the only thing that could cool her down was his touch. 

It was over too quickly, her thighs clenching together hard as she looked at him with bleary eyes. His face was self assured, a little smug and she was trying to recover. A squeeze was given to her chin, making her clear her vision as she was left a little unsatisfied. But would she ever really be truly satisfied when he took away his mouth? She could kiss him for hours and still feel like she wanted more. Their date was proof of that. 

“See? I can be sweet when you are. Rewards.” His confidence blew her away, barely able to recover when he pressed another firm kiss to her mouth without giving her time to react. “Now go on and go get some supplies for our cookies, yeah? Text me when you’re there and when you’re home safe. I’ve got another two appointments.” He wished he could cancel them and just go with her but he didn’t want the rep, and also didn’t want to cling to her. As tempting as it may be, he wanted to start this right. 

Y/N’s kiss still tingled on his lips as she drove away. He knew he was deep in the inky indigo waters of infatuation, but he didn’t think that was a bad thing. He’d learn to breathe underwater.

[1d1195]

Dolcezza II

Read the first part here: Dolcezza

Glad we liked the first part so much! More tooth-rotting cuteness, sweetness, fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst.

This part (as is tradition with my second parts) doesn't really make a whole lot of cohesive sense, but the next parts should be a little more put together as a whole.

~6.7k words

“I think I would let her break m’heart,” he told Niall while they cleaned the kitchen at the end of the night about a month after she had moved in. His infatuation never wavered. But he admired her from afar. “I’d thank her,” he smiled to himself as he pretended the gravity of such a statement was a joke. Not nearly as big a deal as Niall knew it to be.

He knew he was staring. From the second he laid eyes on her, the staring started. There was no other way to describe what had happened. Harry was overwhelmed with how pretty she looked. She emanated beauty and kindness like perfume. Harry was sick with how much he adored it. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was her sole purpose in life just to look so beautiful and make him, specifically, speechless. Principessa rolled off his tongue the moment he saw her. Even though she was stunned and uttering a sad little sound of injury that he regrettably caused when she tumbled to the ground. It was instinctive. She was a princess. It was obvious.

But after only a few moments of time spent together... Maybe it was only obvious to everyone but her.

Or maybe Harry was just so overwhelmed it was just one of those things. He wasn’t kidding when he told her. Compulsive. It seemed wrong to call her anything but Principessa.

In the time that she moved in, to the present, Harry was the butt of most jokes when it came to his infatuation with her. “Is that our Principessa?” Niall teased Harry frequently. Especially when he looked longingly out the front window. The restaurant was set up so there was an opening from the kitchen peering over the main room. It wasn’t the biggest restaurant in the world, but people lined up on the sidewalk in any weather every Thursday, Friday, Saturday night without fail. The other nights were comfortably busy, and Harry was so grateful to work in a place as nice as this. Antonio was the best boss and Niall was one of his best friends.

Even more of a reason Niall teased Harry when the pretty girl got in and out of her car parked out front of the building with her phone pressed to her ear or something on her hip carrying it up the steps to her place. It took every ounce of Harry’s self-control not to run out there and take her stuff from her in the middle of cooking something every time he saw her so that he could help her.

Harry knew Niall was kidding but he didn’t like the way he said it. The teasing didn’t feel nice, and she deserved—no needed—everything that had to do with her be the nicest and sweetest thing in the world. “Ni, she’s so pretty and sweet,” he reminded him as they chopped the veggies for the day. Niall smirked at his friend who was staring at carrots and onions like they were the features of her face.

“She is pretty,” he nodded knowingly, toning down the sound of teasing in his voice. It was nice to hear Harry talk about someone like that. It had been a long while since he cared for someone the way he seemed to care for her already. Niall saw how captivated Harry was by her the second he saw her. He knew his friend was totally done for; but it was nice.

For a number of years (and after several bad bouts of heartache) Harry claimed he didn’t have time to fall in love. He worked six nights a week. On his day off, he often found himself at the restaurant anyway because his best friends were there. Work didn’t feel like work for Harry. So, dating would have been a distraction, a complication. Something Harry couldn’t fathom because of how busy his work kept him.

But Niall knew it was really that Harry thought it was too much to bear another heartbreak. Heartbreak that may not even happen, as Niall liked to point out. But Harry couldn’t see it that way.

Not until she was there, knocking Harry off his feet literally and figuratively.

“I think I would let her break m’heart,” he told Niall while they cleaned the kitchen at the end of the night about a month after she had moved in. His infatuation never wavered. But he admired her from afar. “I’d thank her,” he smiled to himself as he pretended the gravity of such a statement was a joke. Not nearly as big a deal as Niall knew it to be.

Harry thought it was fate he always managed to catch sight of her whenever she was outside the restaurant; usually at her car grabbing something or putting it away. Other times, when she entered the restaurant, he was always able to see her kindly holding the door for an older couple or waving to a small child. Harry thought it was some unknown power that drew him to her and made him catch her eye every time she was within vision and distance.

She gave a wave to the host and sauntered through the main room to get to the bar just on the other side of the opening to the kitchen. A perfect view for him to admire her while he peeled veggies for Niall to chop throughout the night.

“Hi Principessa,” he smiled at her through the opening from the kitchen, just as he did every time that she situated herself in his view. Maybe Harry was reading into it. He knew he was a little lovesick with the idea of her. He tried to dial it back as much as possible so as not to scare her. But there were some things he simply couldn’t help.

On Wednesdays, she sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and ate some food. She always asked for a side of extra garlic bread and always asked if she could have a bigger portion (the angel she was, she promised she would of course pay more; she just wanted some for lunch the next day). Harry loved Wednesdays so he could gaze at her extensively from that opening to the kitchen. She usually read a book or chatted with whoever was bartending. Every so often, she would strike up a conversation with someone near her making them fall hopelessly in love with her as well. It was usually a sweet older woman who wanted to set her up with her son who was much too young for her.

Harry couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that wracked his body when someone else flirted with her. There was a bit of possessiveness to his infatuation, but he was good at separating himself from it. She wasn’t his and it was okay. If she wanted to date someone, it had nothing to do with him. He would continue to admire her from afar.

But then she would make eye contact with him. He was already looking at her and her eyelids would droop a little and she would look up at him shyly through the prettiest eyelashes he had ever seen, and he hadn’t once thought about eyelashes in his entire life. “Hi Harry,” she smiled so prettily, it made his stomach flip. He felt like a child, the way his cheeks warmed to hear his name on her lips. He busied himself with another task—stirring the tomato sauce to keep it from sticking to the bottom of the pot while it simmered. If he could, he would have stared through that opening and watched her the whole time.

Harry was considering quitting his kitchen job so he could be a bartender on Wednesdays just to be another ten feet closer to her. If it weren’t for her kind smile and her sweet voice, Harry would think he was being a bit of an overwhelming presence. But other than making sure all her furniture was properly anchored, he tried to maintain a normal distance from her and only asked her how she was doing each time he saw her. The last thing Harry wanted was to worry her about his presence in her life. Yes, he was effectively in love with her just at first glance. But he wasn’t so enveloped in the feeling that he couldn’t separate himself from it. He would much rather be friends with her than scare her with unwanted attention.

“Go talk to her, it’s slow,” Niall encouraged.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice and hurried to behind the bar and made small talk with her. It took a half hour, and her smile made his stomach churn in the best way. He hadn’t felt this way in so long and he was so glad she was there.

It was unbelievably easy to talk to her. They talked about the restaurant and how her job was going. It was nice she didn’t have to commute far and got to work from home most of the week. She inquired about the coffee shop up the road and if he had any good recommendations for shopping. Harry leaned against the bar and handed over the food from Niall from the window. She asked him if this is what he always wanted to do. He wasn’t sure but he liked it a lot and for now couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He attended culinary school and Antonio was one of the guest chefs in one of his classes. Harry took to him immediately and wanted to work for him and help however he could. He took over the old Italian bakery that was here before him, from his parents and turned it into Dolcezza and while he kept a lot of recipes it was nice to make it a place of his own.

Harry wanted to spend the rest of his life at the bar gazing at the pretty girl while she ate her eggplant parmesan and garlic bread. He wanted to ask her more about herself. Because Harry got the feeling that people didn’t really check on her. There was also an uncomfortable look in her eye when he asked about her job and her life. It was more evident by the moving herself in nearly alone.

“D’you need help with anything, kitten?” He asked.

The furrow between his eyebrows made her want to reach out and smooth the wrinkle there. Harry seemed distraught. But the idea that he was asking if she needed anything made her uncomfortable in a way that was hard to explain. Her parents relied on her a lot—the oldest of three. Her younger siblings relied on her a lot too. Her sister was always sending her essays to read. Her brother asked her for help on his math assignments at least once a week.

They lived more than an hour away from her and the only time she saw them was when she was the one going to visit them. While there, it made her anxious to see her sister leave their parents’ house, a mess from all of her belongings spread on every available surface. Visiting her brother made her anxious for a multitude of other reasons. She thought he was on the fast track to a drinking problem and was constantly reminding him of such to the point he would say things like “don’t worry, Mom.”

She loved her family. There was no question about it. But it was nice to have space between them. It was hard to move away during college and watch them struggle for a few months without her presence to essentially keep everyone in line. Her mother called her the project coordinator of the family. Stuff didn’t get done without her. It felt like she had to tell her mom and dad how to parent her younger siblings a lot of the time. It was exhausting.

So, space was good, regardless of how much she worried about them and their ability to take care of themselves.

As for her friends, Eleanor moving away was worse than any heartbreak she had ever experienced. It was fresh still and she felt really alone without her there to paint her toes or read trashy romance novels while they had spa nights where Louis would bring them pizza. Other than Eleanor, her friends walked all over her. Eleanor watched it firsthand and was happy to tell her it was happening.

She had to separate herself from the group as well—especially once they finished school because if she didn’t, she would probably be cooking dinner for some of them each week or doing their grocery shopping because they were too lazy.

She had done everything on her own for most of her life. She rarely even asked Eleanor for anything. Eleanor usually forced her help onto her which was a necessity in Eleanor’s eyes.

So no. She didn’t need Harry’s help with anything.

But she sort of wished she did, just so he would chat with her for longer.

“Hey Harry,” Niall called through the window. Harry took a quick glance around the restaurant seeing the dinner rush filling in quickly. Unfortunately, he had to get back to Niall’s side and leave her.

He enjoyed talking to her so much, enjoying her gentle laughter. He wanted to give her a kiss good night.

For as long as he could remember, Harry’s favorite color was always orange or blue. But now his favorite color was pink—the color of her cheeks whenever he flirted with her. “Have a good night, Principessa,” he smiled. A wink to replace a kiss he so desperately wanted caused the color to flood her cheeks and he was so grateful that he got to see that pretty, favorite color of his.

“Night, Harry,” she looked so utterly pretty it made him feel like he was melting.

*

Leonardo was Antonio’s four-year-old little boy. He was full of energy and life and made the restaurant a mess when he was around. His skin was olive-toned and with dark wavy hair. He looked like the prince of Italy and acted like it when he arrived.

It was all hands-on deck when he was around. One second without supervision he would be under a table in the main room or sneaking a meatball from the sauce in the kitchen on a plate ready to be served. At least, that’s how it usually was. Today, Leo was situated at the bar coloring in an activity book with the help of the sweet angel that Harry didn’t think he could possibly love more. But somehow here she was, a delight with kids and another piece of Harry was completely captured by her lovely persona.

“Hey Leo, who’s y’pretty date?” Harry asked ruffling his hair as he passed into the kitchen. Leo held up the book, a few of the markers he was using fell to the floor. He winked at the sweet girl as she hopped down from her seat to grab them. Her face turned that gorgeous pink he dreamed about at his sweet words and the little gesture he made toward her. She grinned back at him with a little eye roll at his kind compliment.

Leo giggled sweetly as he showed off his coloring book. “We’re coloring.”

“Oh? S’lovely. Can y’color something for me t’hang in the kitchen?” Harry asked. He nodded excitedly and went to work on the next page. “Y’on Leo duty?”

“M’babysitting,” Leo explained before she could get a word out.

“Excusa,” Harry chuckled. “You’re babysitting, Leo?” Harry repeated, while she put the markers back in front of Leo and got back into her seat.

“He is,” she smirked. “Mumma and Dadda came in to eat with Leo. Their sitter cancelled and they mentioned they haven’t been on a date since they found out about the baby almost four months ago,” she explained. “So, I asked if Leo would want to keep me company tonight.”

Harry’s heart warmed as it always did because of her kindness. Selflessness. It was overwhelming. “S’nice, Principessa.”

“Prin-pessa?” Leo asked, his little lisp messing up the nickname. He turned his attention back to the girl beside him with wide eyes. She shook her head at Harry.

“Oh yeah, Leo,” Harry nodded affirmatively ignoring her little brush off—noticing that her cheeks were once more warming at his nickname for her. “Don’t y’think she looks like a princess?”

He nodded in agreement. She rolled her eyes again, but the smile and pink of her cheeks remained on her face, which made Harry feel like he had won the lottery. “I’m hungry,” Leo told her.

“Yeah? Want some spaghetti?” She asked.

He nodded. “Can I help make it?”

She glanced behind her at the rush of people coming in and knew that a little one in the kitchen would not be ideal. “Hmm...I think we better let Harry take care of dinner. But after you eat, we can head upstairs and make something yummy for dessert. How’s that sound?”

He nodded. “So, we can keep coloring?”

“Absolutely.”

Harry didn’t want to cook. He didn’t want to move from that window and move his gaze away from the angel sitting at the bar. She was too good and Harry was too in love. It seemed impossible that he would get anything done for the rest of his life if she was going to be around.

But he wouldn’t want her anywhere else.

*

Leo was getting cranky toward the end of the night. He wanted to see his mom and dad and she was struggling to maintain a bit of control. He was in a t-shirt she had from a 5k she and Eleanor had walked for charity. He was missing his mom and dad, and she knew it wasn’t going to be easy to keep him calm until they came to pick him up. By then, he would be sound asleep.

Hopefully.

“Do you want to watch a movie, honey?” She asked as he got more teary and grumpier by the second.

He shook his head. She could see the frustration in his little body. She frowned at his response. “Hey, Leo?” She said softly. “I know you’re upset and you’re missing Mommy and Daddy. We gotta pass the time a little bit so they’ll be back faster. Can you think of something you’d like to do while we wait?”

“Can we color more?”

She had left the coloring supplies at the restaurant. Leo had his own little cubby out back in the staff room behind the kitchen. Harry had brought it back there for her after they left to make their cupcakes. It didn’t seem like something she needed when she moved in because she hadn’t necessarily planned on babysitting. But now she was already considering her Target run tomorrow to get activities the next time she offered to watch Leo.

She was quick on her feet though. “Yeah, let me just...see if Harry can bring it up.”

As she dialed on her phone to call the restaurant, she wondered who would answer. By now she had lived above the Italian oasis for nearly three months. They all knew her name and she was surprised they didn’t have her number saved. “Dolcezza Ristorante, how can I help you?”

“Hi...uh...can I talk to Harry?”

“Harry?” The voice asked curiously. She didn’t know who it was unfortunately. She was hoping it would be one of Antonio’s nephews but alas. She could tell the girl at the other end of the line didn’t like that she was requesting Harry’s attention.

She felt a wave of awkwardness wash over her. “Err...yeah.”

There was a bit of silence, some chatter as whoever answered walked toward the kitchen. She could hear the clanging of dishes and pans, the dishwasher humming as she got closer. There was a muffled exchange of words. “Me?” Her face warmed at the sound of the voice that she was certain she could pick out of a crowd. It made her feel ridiculous that she recognized Harry’s voice.

Even more ridiculous that her heart skipped a beat at the sound of it as well.

“Hello?” He sounded confused as he answered. But his voice sounded so warm. Like someone reading a bedtime story to her. Even though he only spoke one word.

“Hi Harry,” she smiled into the phone.

There was a loud clang from his end as something clearly toppled to the floor. There was an uproar of voices shouting and a few curse words. She had to pull the phone away from her ear at the noise and she glanced at Leo briefly. She was grateful he was feigning calmness as he waited utterly patiently—especially for a for a four-year-old, close to bed time, and missing his mom and dad. “Uh...sorry... Hi, Principessa,” he murmured. “Y’okay? Something wrong?” He asked nervously.

There was a pang of adoration for someone that cared about her well-being. No one ever really worried about her. Except for Eleanor. It wasn’t her fault but there was only so much Eleanor could worry about from a plane ride away. “No, no... we’re fine,” she promised. “Just...I hate to bother you, but if you have a minute, could you bring the coloring book up here? Leo’s missing Mommy and Daddy and wants to color some more to pass the time till they get here,” she explained.

“Oh, yeah. ‘Course,” the sound of the kitchen dissipated as he walked toward that back room to get Leo’s book. “I’ll be right up,” the phone call ended and shortly after she heard his footsteps coming up the steps and a gentle knock on the door.

She hurried to open it, Leo following behind her and peering from behind her legs. There Harry was, leaning against the door frame. Looking like a model even though he was holding a children’s coloring book. “Hi Principessa,” he smiled brightly.

“Hi Harry,” she grinned and knelt beside Leo. “Can you say thank you to Harry?” She asked.

He looked up at Harry. “Thanks, Harry,” his lower lip stuck out and he sniffled rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“No problem, lad... y’okay? Y’miss Mummy and Daddy?” He nodded, looking at the floor and turned into her embrace to hide the tears as he sniveled. She rubbed her hand along her back. Harry crouched in front of them as well. She frowned and Harry reached out to smooth his hair down. “I know y’miss them, but y’get t’hang out with this pretty Principessa and color. And when y’go t’sleep Mummy and Daddy will be back,” he reminded him.

He sniffled and rubbed his eye, turning back to Harry. “Can you color with us?” He asked.

“Aw, Leo, honey. Harry’s working right now,” she whispered rubbing his back and kissed the top of his head.

His lower lip wiggled with a threat of tears exploding from him again. “I can stay a minute,” he smiled gently. Leo turned again and reached out for Harry who grabbed him up and cautiously stepped inside the homey little place of the girl he liked so much. “S’different huh, lad? From how Mommy and Daddy decorated.”

He nodded. “Prin-pessa lives here now,” he told Harry with another little sniffle.

“She does, that must mean this is a castle,” he winked in her direction as he settled himself on the sofa and put the book in Leo’s lap. She handed him some colored pencils and let him color in the book on his lap. His little sniffles subsided, and he showed Harry the picture frequently. “Nice job, Leo,” he said encouragingly. She sat in front of Harry, helping Leo color. She tried not to touch Harry, but it was nearly futile with the closeness. She couldn’t get close to Leo without getting close to Harry. She sat on her coffee table facing the pair of boys. Her knees slotted on either side of one of his. She wondered if Harry felt the heat of her body waving off her just by their thighs touching.

Harry was lucky he had to focus on keeping Leo company and making sure he was okay. He can’t imagine a scenario in which they would be in this position, but if it weren’t for Leo, Harry would have focused solely on the way her jeans were pressed to either side of his leg. He watched her color like she was an artist from the Renaissance. Her smile was gentle while she spoke quietly to Leo praising his skills.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but she stopped coloring almost abruptly. She put all the items beside her on the coffee table. Harry looked at her curiously and she smirked, putting a finger to her lips. She stood, removing the warmth of her leg around Harry’s, making him feel like it was the dead of winter without a coat. He wanted her body back near his.

She slid her hands around Leo’s small frame and her hands brushed Harry’s fingers. He had to restrain the moan that was bubbling in his throat from how much he liked the feel of her skin against his. He thought the warmth from her would make his heart explode. She pulled Leo into her embrace and carried her to the bedroom. Harry followed her quietly and quickly. He stood in the doorway and watched her lay the little one on the bed. She left the door cracked so light could get in and she smiled kindly. “Thank you, Harry,” her voice dripped with gratitude.

Harry didn’t know restraint was an emotion, but he felt it all throughout his body. Every bit of self-control was used to not kiss her over and over until his lips hurt. “M’pleasure, Principessa.”

Harry’s favorite color appeared on her cheeks. “Do...you want something to drink or anything? Before you head back to work—oh my, are you okay?” She asked grabbing his hand and turned it over between his.

Harry had an angry burn on the back of his hand. When he heard her voice on the phone he had a visceral reaction—the adoration for her causing him to spill some hot soup on his hand as he carried it toward the counter ready to be taken to the main room. Harry didn’t even feel it. Working in a kitchen, it was likely you would get burned. Harry wasn’t sure he had any nerve endings in his fingertips anymore.

At least, not until she was holding his hand.

“Oh...yeah. M’fine. Spilled hot soup.”

“I’ll have to remember how hot it is when I order it,” she looked at it nervously. “Can...do you need a bandage?”

“Oh, we have gloves in the kitchen,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal to him. The only thing he could think about was how nice her hand felt holding his.

She frowned which made him sad. “Can... Can I wrap it or something for you? It looks painful and the glove will probably rub it raw or something,” she was already tugging him toward the kitchen, so he had no choice but to agree. Not that he wanted to argue. A few extra minutes with the pretty girl was well worth it. Harry had spent a good chunk of time in this apartment but somehow it was completely new. She released his hand, making him fraught with emotion. He nearly wanted to order her to hold it again. In the kindest of ways of course.

It seemed like this was something she really needed to do. Like it was hard for her to ask Harry for something without doing something for him in return. She gathered the supplies she needed and carefully slathered some ointment on his burn, holding his hand again making him forget all coherent thought. She was so gentle and careful. The burn was no big deal but it was so nice the way she tended to it. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal.

But Harry was undeniably in love with her.

“Thank you, Principessa.”

She smiled looking at his hand in hers. “You’re welcome, Harry. Thank you for helping with Leo. Sorry I bothered you.”

“Not at all, kitten. Y’don’t bother me at all,” he murmured as she smoothed the bandage on his hand.

It was cold again when she released him.

“Well, thank you anyway.”

“’Course. Always,” he promised. She smiled and put the supplies away. She wished she could have asked Harry to stay, but she knew he had to get back. He started for the door and flexed his hand a bit with the bandage wrapped around it. There were a lot of kitchen injuries he had suffered over the years and somehow this was his favorite because she tended so sweetly to it.

“I’ll...see you tomorrow,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” He smirked. “S’not Wednesday.”

She looked at her feet. “I know...but...I like seeing you,” she admitted glancing back at him with those pretty eyelashes and the pink cheeks he loved so much.

Harry was certain this was what winning the lottery felt like. He leaned down toward her and pecked her cheek so quickly, he barely even felt it on his lips—even though there was electricity pulsing through him as he did it. “I like seeing you too,” he whispered in her ear and headed down the stairs before he did something crazy like proposed to her. “Good night, Principessa,” he called over his shoulder.

*

“Eleanor Jane!”

Harry would recognize her voice in the dead of sleep, in a coma, halfway across the world.

Her voice was muffled by the door. As well as the thudding of someone knocking on the door. It was a few hours until they opened and if it weren’t for Harry hearing her sweet voice, he might have missed it or ignored it.

Harry hurried through the main room, unlocked the door, and looked at the three people in front of him. “Oh, you’re definitely Harry,” Eleanor smirked as she pushed past him.

“Jesus,” she sighed and put a hand on her forehead. “Louis, she’s insane,” she said to the guy who sauntered in after her.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly and nodded to Harry as he brushed by him.

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled softly.

His heart softened. Harry loved the way his name sounded on her lips and in her voice. “Hi, Principessa.”

“Eleanor is in town,” she explained. She twisted her fingers together awkwardly.

“I see,” he chuckled as he glanced behind him to see her friend checking out all the artwork on the walls.

“We have a very busy couple of days. We’re getting a chunk of Louis’ stuff packed up and such. But...she really wants pasta and it’s,” she sighed looking a little ill as she spoke. “It’s the only time we really have...and you can say no. I told her we would just order takeout later—”

Harry understood. She didn’t want to bother him of course. Despite how hard he had tried to explain that she could never bother him. “Course, kitten,” he stood against the door to let her in finally. “Niall and I would be happy to,” he smiled.

“You really don’t mind? Antonio won’t mind?”

“Not at all, Principessa,” he promised pressing a hand on her lower back as he guided her further inside to join her friend.

“I told you he wouldn’t care.”

She rolled her eyes at Eleanor as the three sat at the bar.

Harry helped her onto her stool in the most chivalrous and gentlemanly fashion, Eleanor was grinning ear to ear as he did. He squeezed the top of her arm and winked as he headed back into the kitchen. “D’you want eggplant?” He asked through the window, and she blushed, then nodded. It made her feel warm that Harry knew what she wanted. Even though she had ordered it once a week since she moved in. “Eleanor, Louis? What can I make?”

“Cacio e pepe sounds good to me,” Louis smirked looking over the menu.

“Oh, I’ll take anything you want to make Harry. I’m not picky.”

He nodded and started preparing the dishes. Niall glanced through the window at the sight of the pretty girl and her friends. “You’re a mess,” Niall laughed.

Harry shrugged but there was a smile plastered on his lips.

“So, Harry, I hear you’ve really taken my best friend’s interest.”

“Eleanor, shut up,” she hissed, covering her pretty face with both hands.

Harry smiled, his cheeks warming. “Yeah? S’good. Can’t get her off m’mind either,” he winked at her through the window. Eleanor giggled and Louis rolled his eyes at her forwardness.

But Harry saw the splash of her pretty irises peek through the space between her fingers as she registered what Harry said. “You can’t steal her from me,” Eleanor said knowingly. “She’s my best friend.”

“Would never take her from you, Eleanor,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.

While Eleanor and Harry chatted like they had known each other their whole lives as well, she tried not to think about how Harry said he couldn’t get her out of her mind.

Tried.

She very much failed and thought that maybe she wouldn’t mind falling harder for Harry.

*

Harry was organizing the bar while the three of them ate. She was used to the pasta—of course it was delicious, but it was easier for her to pace herself knowing if she wanted, she could have more at any hour of the day.

She nibbled on her garlic bread—the extra portion that Harry had placed in front of her with a wink.

Eleanor was picking at Louis’ and hers at the same time. “Aye! Eat your own,” he said protectively and pulled his plate toward him so Eleanor couldn’t reach. She frowned and turned her attention back to her best friend, stealing some of her pasta and snagged a piece of garlic bread. She passed a piece to Louis and finally tried her own meal. “There’s been no sign of your stalker, right?” Eleanor asked as she put the first bite in her mouth. “Oh, this is delicious,” she moaned. She didn’t get to remark on how good the pasta really was because her comment was overshadowed by Harry’s head snapping to attention at the words coming out of the best friend of his Principessa.

She tilted her head back to avoid Harry’s eye contact. She hated bringing up this topic. Especially in front of other people. Even if Harry was slowly becoming her favorite person now that Eleanor wasn’t around, Harry was going to get worried. That was the last thing she wanted. “I could strangle you,” she murmured to her friend.

“What?” Eleanor frowned.

“M’sorry t’eavesdrop,” Harry said apologetically holding two bottles of wine in each hand as he restocked the wine cooler. “Did...did y’say stalker?”

Her cheeks turned pink. Eleanor frowned and turned back to her best friend. “You didn’t tell them?”

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she shrugged.

Harry’s eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. He begrudgingly turned his attention to Eleanor assuming that she would give him the details for such a worrisome topic. Eleanor sighed. “Maybe you can convince her. There’s this guy who follows her.”

“Not now,” she grumbled. “He doesn’t do anything. He just... follows me.”

Harry felt utterly uncomfortable with such a statement and how neutral she seemed to feel about it. His heart started to beat erratically at the thought of something happening to her. He wanted to handcuff her to the bar just so he could keep an eye on her. Harry put the bottles into the cooler while Eleanor filled in the full details. He listened with rapt attention. She ate her garlic bread and pasta as if this was a normal situation. Truly, nothing to worry about.

Louis added in a few details as well. “There haven’t really been any events that were... scary,” Louis added for her benefit. Eleanor glared at him viciously. “But it makes El and I pretty uncomfortable. Really worried,” he told Harry with a smirk to Eleanor as her glare softened at his words.

Harry, on the other hand, was nearly shutting down with the influx of information. His pretty Principessa. It wasn’t fair. It was scary. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t lead with that. “Principessa, s’not okay.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “He hasn’t followed me since I’ve moved,” she put her forehead on the bar.

Harry frowned and made eye contact with Eleanor. “Hmm...”

Eleanor patted her back. “You’re fine. We all just care about you,” she rolled her eyes. “I know that’s a hard thing for you to consider,” she smirked with a shake of her head.

“Jeez, El. Why don’t you just stab her,” Louis chuckled.

“I like Louis more than you,” she murmured into the bar.

She flicked the back of her head and looked at Harry.

“Harry,” Eleanor smiled sweetly.

“Oh boy,” Louis chuckled sipping his drink.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed looking up at Eleanor and tried to put a hand over her mouth to keep her from talking to Harry.

Harry thought it was funny, even if his heart was racing with worry. “Would you mind keeping an eye on her?” She fluttered her lashes sweetly as her best friend turned bright red with embarrassment. Harry smiled softly.

He didn’t want to upset the poor thing when she already seemed so distraught. Harry knew a bit about her but didn’t know everything, obviously. It was abundantly clear that she would rather die than inconvenience someone on her behalf.

“Of... of course,” Harry nodded at Eleanor. “But... m’sure she’s... sounds like she has it under control,” it tasted like sour milk to say those words. He wanted to say something along the lines of he would sleep outside her door and walk her to and from the grocery store. But Harry wasn’t her boyfriend—even if he was already, completely, and obviously in love with her.

Even if she wasn’t ready to notice just yet.

“Ugh, you have him fooled too,” Eleanor frowned.

She smirked patting Eleanor’s back. She turned to Harry for a moment and met his gentle gaze. It made her feel soft. When he pecked her cheek, or held her hands, each time he touched her lower back, or when he was coloring with her and Leo. Harry made her feel so completely warm with the smallest of touches and now he wasn’t even touching her. She was frustrated Eleanor brought it up. Even more frustrated Harry was worried about her. He had plenty of more important tasks to deal with than worry about her.

But she didn’t want anyone to worry about her. So, if asking Harry for help every now and again appeased Eleanor...

“Harry,” her voice was so soft and gentle. He was captured immediately by her voice and gaze. “Even though you’ve already done about a million ridiculous things for me,” and he very much had not. The little tasks he did to help her move in weren’t anything. Chatting with her, making food for her, and even coloring with Leo were all easy and nothing special. They weren’t even the bare minimum because they were so easy and simple. He wanted to do more for her. “If... if it’s not too much trouble,” it looked like she was struggling to say whatever words were in her head. It seemed ridiculous that she was going to ask Harry for help solely to make Eleanor feel better. Not even herself.

But he wasn’t going to make her say it when it clearly frustrated her to worry about herself.

Maybe he could help her understand that it wasn’t a big deal to worry about her, eventually.

“I’ll keep an eye on y’Principessa. S’pretty easy when I can’t stop staring at how pretty y’look anyway,” he winked and headed to the kitchen hoping to leave Eleanor to gossip about something other than the guy following her best friend.

He caught a glimpse of his favorite color painting her face while Eleanor was giggling and hitting her arm with excitement through the window.

But most importantly, he saw the faintest smile on her lips. Like she was happy that Harry cared for her even a little bit. Hopefully with every little baby step, Harry would convince her she wasn’t a bother.

In fact, he hoped to convince her that she really was a princess in his eyes.

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If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

You & I

Ya’ll can thank this fit and @erggggggggg for this. Fluffiness ahead. You may or may not need tissues.

Contains- Social Anxiety, Dadrry, JUST PURE FLUFF

Summary- Y/N has never been a big people person. Harry loves that about her. But he also wants her to enjoy one of those most important times of their life. On the night of their wedding rehearsal, her anxiety gets the best of her, until her future husband brings her out of her shell.

>>>———————->

“Love, please, she’ll be just fine with my mum.”

I shake my head, tears threatening to spill as I hug my baby girl close to me.

“She’s- she’ll freak out. You know how she’s been lately. She’ll have a fit and I just want everything to go okay… It’s just better if I hold her.”

Harry lets out a small sigh and shakes his head. He plucks Poppy from my arms and carries her to Anne, who happily takes the giggly two year old in her arms. He comes back over to me and takes my hand, dragging me outside the reception hall.

He leads me over to the side wall over looking the green forest and he sits down, placing me in his lap as he holds me close and tight.

“Talk to me love. What’s going on inside your pretty head?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, shaky as I lean into his chest.

“I’m just- I’m not good with talking to people. I know this is part of getting married but I’m nervous…”

Harry lets out a small laugh and he hugs me tighter as he begins to rock me back and forth in his arms.

“Y/N, everyone attending is our closest friends and family. They love you! You have nothing to be nervous about.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head against his chest.

“Harry, you literally invited Elton John and Stevie Nicks. People I can hardly let out a word to because I’m so nervous.”

He chuckles again and stands up, placing me on the ground before he takes my hand as he begins to lead me through the small garden.

“But you know who else is there? Our friends. You know.. Niall, Sarah, Mitch, all people who adore you. Your mum, who obviously loves you to death. My mum who most likely loves you more then she does me and Gem… Tonight is just our rehearsal. Tomorrow is the big day. And you? Will be just fine.”

I give him a small smile and I squeeze his hand before wrapping my arms around his as he gazes into my eyes. He pecks my lips softly, my lip gloss slightly coating his lips as he rests his forehead against mine.

“All those people? They’re here for us. To celebrate us with those we love dearly. Be yourself. This is our day. You & I, right?”

He pecks my lips once more and I smile.

“Always. Thank you Harry… For everything. You’ve made me so.. So happy…You and our daughter… You’re my entire world. I don’t know where I’d be without you…”

He smiles and hugs me tight before placing a kiss on my forehead.

“I should be thanking you, my love. You have made me the happiest man in the world. You are the love of my life and I’m grateful I met you.”

He holds me for a moment, swaying with me as we enjoy the silence, until our little moment is interrupted.

“Well, well, well. Escaping from your own rehearsal dinner? Poppy, tell mummy and daddy to hurry up.”

We turn around to see Gemma and Anne, who’s still holding a happy Poppy, wiggling her legs. Anne sets her down and she runs to us, her little dress bouncing a little as she giggles. Harry lets me go and bends down a little to catch her in his arms. She squeals as he hoists her up and holds her close.

“Poppy, what do we say to mumma, do you remember?”

She nods with a little giggle and reaches out to me, grabbing my cheeks. She looks into my eyes and I smile as I stare into her eyes, practically a carbon copy of Harry’s.

“Happy mama, happy daddy, happy Poppy! Mama happy?”

I smile and take her from Harry’s arms, kissing her little cheeks.

“Mama’s very happy, baby.”

She smiles and looks at Harry.

“Daddy happy?”

Harry smiles and nods before he kisses her cheek.

“Very happy,bug. Is Poppy happy?”

She nods with a big smile and we laugh. She wiggles in my arms and I set her down. She takes my hand in hers and Harry’s in her other hand, squeezing tight with her little hands.

“I wove mama and daddy.”

Harry and I share a look and we smile, and I fight to hold back my tears.

“We love you too baby.”

Poppy giggles and looks up at me.

“Inside? We go inside mama?”

Harry and I share one more look before I nod. I smooth out my dress before squeezing onto Poppy’s hand and we head inside together. Harry gives me a reassuring smile and we hand Poppy off to Anne.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, lots of smiles and laughs coming from our closest friends and family. We tuck Poppy in to bed, with her plead for kisses from both mama and daddy and a story before bed.

I start to feel better, and though Harry pouts about sleeping separately for the night, he gives me one final kiss with the promise of tomorrow being the start of forever.

>>>——————->

Please let me know what you guys thought!!! I may be open to writing more of this!!!

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@kaminokatiee @harrysmimi @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 6th: Crush | You Could Start A Cult - Niall Horan | Sincere a/n: steddie, pining, post-s4. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

A crush is called a crush for a reason, and Eddie Munson is learning this lesson the hard way. 

The very hard way. 

The Jesus Christ, all he did was laugh at my stupid joke and I’m going to collapse in on myself like a dying star kind of way. 

It’s been nearly a year of this and Eddie feels like he’s being squashed beneath the weight of the giant boulder that is his crush on Steve Harrington. A solid year of his hopeless, pointless, wonderful crush on Steve Harrington. 

Everyone knows– well, everyone above the age of 16 has figured it out at least. Eddie isn’t exactly known for his subtlety, after all. 

Jeff, Gareth, and Freak had their reservations at the start after years of being persecuted by the same genre of person Steve had been in high school but once Eddie spun them the tale of how Steve carried out from beneath the rubble of a collapsed building, they’d come around. Jeff took the longest, finally acquiescing  after properly meeting Steve.

You were always into jocks, dude, c’mon. Sounds like this one might have some redeemable qualities at least. 

He couldn’t quite tell them the actual truth, but it’s truth-adjacent and does the job. It paints Steve as the hero Eddie knows him to be, whether Steve wants to acknowledge the title or not. 

Robin knew before they’d even gone back into the Upside Down, before Eddie nearly died in Dustin’s arms and then again, in Steve’s. 

I was there when you called him Big Boy, Munson. You’re not subtle. He’s just oblivious. 

Nancy figured it out when Eddie was in the hospital, still a little loopy from painkillers and who knows what else. 

You were on another planet and couldn’t stop talking about his chest hair, Eddie. 

Argyle knew on sight the first time he saw Eddie with Steve. It was a little spooky, actually, how on the nose he was about two people he barely knew but on the nose, he was. 

You’re the only one callin’ him Stevie, brochacho. And he’s the only one calling you Ed so… take that for what it’s worth. 

Jonathan knew because Argyle knew and Jonathan and Argyle seem to have something there, too, but that’s none of Eddie’s business. All of the unrequited love bandwidth he has is tied up in Steve, and his smile, and his way with the kids, and his cologne– 

“You got something on your face.” 

Robin nudges him in the side behind the kitchen counter where he’s been leaning, watching helplessly through the kitchen window as Steve grills another round of burgers going for their We Lived And Can’t Tell The Tale Because We All Signed NDAs party starting soon. 

Eddie wipes his face frantically, hoping he didn’t have ketchup or something on his cheek from Steve’s trial run of the burgers. He pulls his hand back to find nothing besides Robin grinning, bemused and pitying all the same when it clicks.

“I’m not actually drooling. Just… metaphorically. God, let me cling to some shred of dignity here.” 

Steve flips another burger, this one landing square right-side-up. Eddie groans, Robin rolls her eyes, and he laments. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me that that’s so hot? He’s not doing anything special! He’s just existing in those too-tight jeans and plain tee shirt and I’m ready to lay waste to the evils of the world to get to him. And they say I’m the cult leader? I’d follow this asshole into the bowels of Hell.” Eddie sighs and drops his head back to stare at the ceiling.

It’s offensive, honestly, the popcorn ceiling and the way it mocks him. 

“I mean, you kinda already did.” Robin shrugs and bumps her shoulder into his, somehow softer than her initial nudge. “And look, it’s not my business, but I think you might be surprised if you talked to him. He’s not the same he was when he said all that shit to Jonathan, y’know.” 

Eddie whips to the side, too quickly as his head spins for a brief moment. He searches her eyes for hints or a glimmer of hope. Something. Anything. 

“What do you know, Buckley?” It’s less a question and more a statement. 

“I don’t know a damn thing, other than a conversation might do you both some good. But look,” Robin sighs and hops up to sit on the island next to Eddie as he turns his attention back to Steve manning the grill. He’s trying not to stare at the way Steve twirls the spatula… and failing, of course. How are his hands so big? 

“Hello? Munson, Earth to heart-eyes over there. This is information you might really want to listen to.” Robin waves a hand in front of his face and he jolts out of his thoughts. It’s for the best– the second he gets lost in Steve’s hands, it’s all over for him. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m listening.” Eddie responds, vaguely reminded of his many years in school. 

“I was saying, Steve’s a good guy. The best guy, really. And I know he’s acted fine with being single the last year or so, but he’s lonely behind that facade. So if this is just like, a crush that’s gonna pass, keep it to yourself. But if you really like him, if you wanna like, be with him, then yeah. I think you might want to talk to him.” 

Eddie considers his feelings for a long moment, staring back out the window. This time, he watches Steve at the grill and sees so much more than a guy in too-tight jeans and a plain tee shirt flipping burgers. He sees jumping into the lake, rushing through the Upside Down, finding a quiet moment in the chaos traipsing through the Upside Down’s version of the woods. He sees what little he remembers of bleeding out and being carried by Steve through the portal, of waking up in the hospital, handcuffed to the bed and Steve sitting in the corner with Wayne. He sees every fleeting moment, every soft touch, every nickname and split joint and pizza with half pepperoni and half bacon. 

He looks out the window at Steve and sees his life. 

Maybe the weight of his crush has only felt so heavy in the way that holding your arms out for too long begins to feel heavy.  Maybe the forced, sustained tension would be relieved if he just let himself relax. 

“I’m with him already, for better or worse.”

Robin hums in acknowledgement before breaking into laughter as they both watch Steve transfer the burgers to a plate, only to accidentally knock the dish off the side of the grill. He must hear their laughter because his eyes shoot directly to the window and he points the spatula at them, free hand on his hip. “It’s not fucking funny, now I have to go to the store!” 

“It’ll probably be for the worse.” Robin looks at him and raises an eyebrow. 

Eddie just laughs and shakes his head, tendrils of hair falling into his face that he pulls further across his mouth. 

“Worth it.”

[purplekiwis]

Summary: It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either.

Genre: Exes to Lovers (Enemies to Lovers if you blink 😉)

Warnings: it's angsty and smutty

Wordcount: 8K

A/N: i'd like to thank @sucker4angstt for requesting this concept! it was a blast to work on and i hope you guys have as much fun reading it as i had writing it 🤍

THIS IS A 2 PART SERIES | PART 2 IS HERE ❄️

OTHER WORKS BY ME

“You wanna do black again? Didn’t we do that last time?” Niall inquired as he switched off the car’s ignition.

You had just shown him a dress you had found the night before in hopes he would like it, but as you had already been expecting, he claimed black was boring and wouldn't stand out among the competition. “Well, yes but this one’s a different style from the last one. It would go well with our song.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try something new sometimes, you know? Like white or blue… perhaps even red?” He suggested as he removed both your skating bags from the trunk and placed them down by his feet.

You hid a sigh while you took your bag from him. It never got easier to admit that you had to consider the price before picking the costume. For whatever reason, there was always a hint of embarrassment associated to that admission. Needless to say you would also prefer to wear a bright colored outfit with lots of glitter and transparencies, but those were simply out of reach for your budget.

“We did red once already, that time we did Moulin Rouge.” You reminded him as you walked side by side, each of you steering your own carryon.

“Hm, that’s true. I’d forgotten about that.”

You hadn’t been lucky enough to land a parking spot right at the front of the sports centre that morning, which sucked big time given how chilly it was outside. Getting up early for practice was never fun, but during the winter months it got almost unbearable. Especially when the sky was all hazy and mostly black by the time you woke up.

“How would you feel about like, a nude?” You proposed, despite the fact that you weren't really fond of the color.

“From you?” Niall sniggered. “Thanks but I think I’ll have to pass.”

“Come on, can't you be serious for like 2 seconds? This is important.” You huffed, pretending like you hadn’t found his little joke amusing. “Also, um... I know this is probably like super annoying for you but my budget’s kinda tight right now, so if you’d be willing to repeat one of our previous outfits, that would be awesome.”

Niall laughed a bit. “Stop with that nonsense, will you? It's not annoying and of course I don't mind. Sides, it's not like it'll even matter what we wear. We'll do so well that the judges won't even think to pay attention to our outfits.” He then turned to you and stated, “...That being said, I still don't want to wear black again.”

“Aff, fine.” You grumbled. “Which one do you want to wear then?”

“Hm.. I dunno, actually.” He took a moment to reflect. “How about we just start naming them until we find one we both agree on?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Ready?” He asked, you nodded. “1, 2, 3…”

“Pink.”

“Turquoise.”

“Navy.”

“Green”

“Orange.” You said it in unison, but your faces immediately turned down in distaste after. “Nevermind the orange. I still don't know what we were thinking when we picked those.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You admitted through a deep breath in. “I’d be fine with the green though, as long as it's the dark one.”

“Make it the medium dark, and it’s settled.”

You reached an agreement right as you were approaching the entrance of the sports centre, where some figure skaters you had grown familiar with over the years were gathering. Surprisingly, neither unpacking nor warming up.

“Are you guys all done already?” You asked them as you dashed towards your usual warm-up area. It was spacious and had a canopy that kept you dry in case it rained. “I didn’t realize we were late...” You earned Niall's judgmental stare with your sentence. He had been rushing you all morning, but you were sure you weren't that late. As far as your calculations were concerned, you were just in time for your first warm-up.

In days like these, it was always very tempting to skimp on the off the ice warm-ups and go straight to the rink, but with the championship right around the corner, neither you nor Niall would take that risk. Because although you also competed individually, it was as a pair that you really stood out. Your journey to nationals depended on you both, and you weren't going to jeopardize all that for being too lazy to stretch.

“Don’t bother starting.” One of the skaters, Natalia, intervened when she realized what the two of you were up to. “The Emperors booked early morning.” She clarified, upon noticing your perplexed looks.

“They did what-” You gasped, all the more startled.

“They can’t do that.” Niall said after you, and the look on his face was as distressed as yours. “They already take up most of the rink’s time!”

“When their stupid coach came we tried to tell him that, but he refused to listen. He didn't even pause- just walked straight through as if we weren't here.” The new skater jumped into the conversation. You hadn't officially met her yet, but you knew her name was Mei, a.k.a the girl Niall had been crushing on for weeks.

Redness engulfed his cheeks as soon as she looked his way, but he still managed to respond, albeit stutteringly. “Yeah, I'm not too surprised… Y/N’s ex plays on the team and he always used to say the guy was a moron.” You pointed out Niall’s oversharing by flashing him a chastising look, but he was too engrossed in Mei's beauty to notice your death stare.

You cleared your throat, now feeling a touch hot in the face too, before turning to the remainder of the group, “Have you spoken to couch Jo or Paul? Aren't they supposed to come teach the kids right after we leave?”

“Yeah.” Natalia sighed. “Apparently they’ve had to rescheduled some of the skating classes but nothing much. Basically it's fine for everyone but us.”

“So what time can we come now?” The Emperors could have taken your place, but surely they had to have left a gap somewhere.

“That’s the thing.” Mei explained. “There’s no time apart from the lessons we have with our coaches. A spot is available in the afternoon, but that's just not feasible for anyone.”

“What? No! How’s that even allowed?” Your question was hardly noticed by the other skaters as they were preparing to leave. "Wait- Where are all of you off to? We can’t just leave; have to solve this.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” Mei groaned. She was clearly on edge, as was everyone else in the group. “We’ve already tried. We won't get to solve anything right now, so staying here is a waste of time.” She grabbed her skating bag off the floor. “You can still try if you want, though. Didn’t you used to mess around with one of them? Maybe he could help.”

You scoffed as you watched Mei leave with the rest of the group, “Unbelievable...” You commented with Niall, only to find him looking at you like he agreed with her. "Oh no, not you siding with her. Are you kidding me?”

“I mean, she’s got a point…” As he went on, a goofy smile spread over his face. “I can't believe she actually spoke to me. This is crazy... and she’s even hotter up close…” Rolling your eyes, you started gathering both your bags in a tacit plea to leave. “Please, Y/N... can you go talk to him? I don't wanna stop seeing her now that she's speaking to us.”

You took a long, deep breath.

You really weren't in the mood to do all that, but unfortunately your ex happened to play team captain for the hockey team... so perhaps, if you could flip the tables and get him to be on your side, there was a small possibility his opinion could give you some advantage when it came to straightening everything out.

That was what you needed to remind yourself of.

There was a deeper purpose to this than Niall's desire to speak with Mei. It was important for everyone. None of you could afford to miss practice now that the championship was about to start. The time you spent practicing with your instructors was good but having time to skate freely every morning was critical.

“Fine. I'll go, but you’re coming with me.”

You had wanted Niall to come along for the emotional support, but that idea was quickly scrapped once the centre’s receptionist, who was acting a lot more standoffish than usual, refused to let you walk past the front desk.

It occurred to you that his behavior might have something to do with how Mei and the rest of the skaters handled that morning’s dreadful news. If that was the case, his mood was about to get worse because you were planning to bring up the issue as well… until Niall stepped in, “Oh, we're not here to skate. We’re here because my friend thinks she dropped her bracelet on her way out of the rink yesterday. We just wanted to see if we can find it.”

“I have orders not to let anyone in right now. If you want, you can come by after eight to look for it.” He answered monotonously, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.

“Ah, we have school at eight; we can't come at that time I'm afraid.” Niall’s revelation elicited no response. So, after a moment of awkward stares, you continued,

“If we don't go now, someone else might find and keep it.” The man’s expression told you that he thought you were being a nuisance, but you kept playing by Niall’s script and added, “The bracelet was a gift from my mother. It has a lot of sentimental value...”

Finally, just as you were beginning to lose hope, he sighed and said, “If it's just the bracelet you're looking for I'll let you go find it, but he stays.” His head motion indicated that he was referring to Niall.

“I’m sure it would be easier if we searched together...”

The man sat back with a sigh. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I'm simply doing what I've been told by one of the coaches after he got harassed by your little squad at the door… which is not to let anyone in the rink while the boys are there. I'm already making an exception for you when I shouldn't, so it’s either this or you'll come back later.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t been informed that the hockey coaches were now in charge of the place...” He ignored your provocation, but his gaze was drawn to the agitated tapping of your nails on the counter. “You know what, it's fine. I get it. I’ll be quick, oh- and don't worry, I'll be careful not to harass the local royalty while I’m there.”

You didn’t stick around for further verbal cues, just swiped your membership card, walked past the barrier and turned toward the rink. It was only after you got there that you realized how angry you were. Knowing that the hockey team was being treated like kings and given the freedom to do whatever and however they pleased with zero regard for anyone else was one of the most infuriating things you'd ever witnessed. It wasn't exactly surprising taken they always got prioritized for being the bigger sport, but they had never taken things this far before. This situation was ridiculous, and you weren't going to tolerate it.

So although you agreed to come speak with your ex, now you were actually hoping to speak directly with the coach instead. Maybe your efforts were in vain, but you had to, at least, try to get your point across. There was only one problem - he was nowhere to be found, and you didn’t know anyone else on the team well enough to ask on his whereabouts.

Speaking of the team, the guys were dressed in practice gear, which was far more basic than their game jersey’s, but still had the same colors of red and gold. You assumed they hadn't started properly training yet, as they were still warming up with crossovers and pivots.

Among the many broad-shouldered athletes there, your eyes were immediately drawn to the player whose number you knew best: 77.

Not that you’d ever need a number to identify him.

Even with hockey armor covering his frame, you knew his body’s contours like the back of your hand. Picturing the tousled curls hidden under his helmet, the green of his eyes, and the curvature of his lips was easy. A little too easy.

“Styles,”

He turned when he heard your voice. His eyes were obscured by the visor, but you could swear you saw his brows quirk. “Y/N,” He didn't look too surprised by your presence. In fact, he looked more amused at you yelling his name than at you being there.

After a few seconds of skating by he came closer, and as he stopped next to the board, his skates scratched the ice a little too harshly for someone who wasn't aiming to make a spectacle of himself. You weren't wowed by his effort. You could execute that same slide better and with greater polish if you wanted to.

“Where’s your coach? I’d like to have a word…”

He signaled the rooms on the top level with his head. “Up there in a meeting. Why, what do you want from him?”

“Not that it's any of your business but it looks like there’s an issue with the rink’s scheduling.”

You saw the grin he was trying to hide. “Oh, what’s that?”

“The skaters had it for 6am, as usual.” You attempted to highlight. “Ergo, you shouldn't be here.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

“I don't think we would be here if you had booked it, would we? If we took the spot, it was because it was available.”

“Well yeah, because we’ve never had to book it - because we had a spoken agreement and we’ve always followed through on it.” He didn't respond, nor did he appear very willing to engage in the conversation you were trying to have. “Are you listening to me?”

“I am,” His voice felt harsh and didn't quite fit the easy stance he showed as he shrugged. “I'm just not sure of what you want me to say – I’m sorry? Does that make you feel any better?”

His cynical tone didn't sit well in your stomach, but your face didn’t let that show. “Okay, look - I get it. You’re in the league and you need to practice, but that doesn’t give you the right to take early mornings from us. It's only two hours out of the entire day, couldn't you just let us keep them?”

He appeared somewhat bored by your approach, but not completely. His facial expression had an edge to it. He was irritated. “It wasn’t me who made the call. If you want to lash out at someone, try the guy at the front-desk or whatever. I can't help you.”

He was really starting to piss you off, but worse than that, there was a part of you that was getting legitimately hurt by his indifference. He used to be one of your biggest supporters, and now it was like he simply didn't care. “Even if it wasn't you who made the decision, you knew better than anybody that this would disrupt our practice and you still didn't say anything.”

“Why would I? Wasn't it you who just said it's none of my business? If you have an issue, it’s your place to handle it - not mine.”

“Harry, your stupid team already takes up most of the rink’s time! Our qualifying season starts in two weeks, we need to practice.”

“Well, I'm not sure if the news has reached your self-centered little world yet but our season has already started, and we have big games coming up. So sorry to break it to you but we're going to take all the extra rink time we can get.”

“Not unless I can’t do something about it.” Your implied threat was meaningless. You had no plan whatsoever... apart from the original one to get on Harry’s good side, which had just been blown. You'd figure something out though, anything to ensure they wouldn't get their way. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

He got closer, coming right up to your face as he leaned over the border and uttered one last, quiet “Gladly,” before skating away to rejoin his team.

The bleachers were packed by screaming fans in replica shirts. 

The big day had come. The Emperors were playing their first home game of the season and as the concentration of bodies suggested, a considerable portion of people had come out to witness it firsthand… including you and Niall.

After what the fuckers had done to you, you almost felt like a traitor for showing up to their game. However, you had purchased tickets weeks ago and since you had spent the money, you figured you might as well come and root for them to lose. That worked for a while, until they actually started losing.

As soon as the visiting team scored a goal, it became impossible to disguise who your heart was really rooting for. The Emperors were jackasses, that was beyond dispute, but they were the local team and it was hard to cheer for strangers when the other players were people you had “known” for years.

“You haven’t touched your pretzel…”

Niall's comment drew your gaze away from the game for a millisecond. “I don’t want it right now, I’m not hungry.” Your reply came out garbled due to the way your cheeks were getting smothered between your hands.

“It’s gonna go cold if you don’t eat it now...”

“You’re right. Here- you can have it.”

“You sure?” His hesitant smile expanded when he heard a fragmented “Yes” fall from your mouth. The “Thanks,” that followed was mumbled around a large bite. “Oh man, this is nothing like the hot dogs they sell here.” He chewed as he spoke, “Have you ever had one? They always put sauerkraut on them and it’s like, who even likes sauerkraut that much, you know what I mean?”

“Mhm,” you hummed again, eyes fixed on the local team captain and the player battling him for the puck. "Get off his ass, shithead." you blurted as another player floated over and pushed him against the board. It was the same player who kept harassing him throughout the first two frames of the game. There had already been insults, menacing stares, and provoking shoves exchanged. This wasn’t going to end well.

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, don’t you?” Niall asked after a lengthy pause in conversation, what caught you off guard.

“Don’t have to do what? Eat sauerkraut?” You questioned back, a little confused.

“Get nervous for the games.” He clarified, which sort of took you by surprise. You weren't aware that your feelings were showing that clearly. “Since, you know…  you and Styles aren’t a thing anymore and all. You don’t have to get all anxious over him.”

Your focus immediately diverted from the rink as a result of Niall’s remark. “This isn’t about him, Niall. It’s about the game- I want us to win.”

“Uh huh… because of your deep love for hockey, I assume.” His face lit up with laughter. “Not any of the players in particular, just the sport itself.”

“Shut up- Oh, that son of a... oh, great! Now he's starting a fight...” You muttered inwardly once you saw Harry's gloves hit the ice first, followed by the other player's.

The initial strikes to the head sent the helmets flying. Thereafter, it was all direct blows. The two boys faced each other angrily as they dodged and struck each other with bare hands and faces. The crowd roared loudly as the violence between the two players increased. “God, I hate when they fight.” You admitted, despite it being nothing new. “Why does it always take the referees so long to split them?”

“Ah, well, you know that's how the game works. The crowd loves it.”

“No, I know that but… it’s barbaric.”

The other player’s left hand was gripping Harry's jersey as if he was going to rip it apart, while the right continued to strike jabs in his stomach. But Harry didn't cut loose; he whacked him with the same force. They both went down, and just like that there was blood on the ice. A laceration over Harry's eyebrow had resulted in what looked like a crimson mask covering his face, most likely caused by his helmet’s visor as it leapt out of his head.

As the boys hit the floor the referees finally intervened and broke up the fight.

But the two were back on the ice as if nothing had happened after spending five minutes in the penalty box. Harry’s cut was no longer bleeding, but the bloodied towel he left behind served as a solid memento.

“I swear my Nan is more flexible than you.” You teased Niall as he tried to strike the mermaid pose. He was struggling, so his tongue was sticking out.

“You can't compare your Nan's yoga to mine. She's been doing it for longer than I've been alive!” He grumbled as he attempted to move his elbow to the proper position by imitating your posture. “I’ll have you know though, that I've never had any complaints on my flexibility before. In fact, it’s what I usually get the most compliments on aside from my-”

“Shhhh.” You were shushed by the yoga instructor for speaking over the soothing music.

You had never taken a yoga class before but considering your time on the rink had been compromised, you figured it might be a good idea to give it a shot since it still allowed you to practice your balance and flexibility.

You'd gotten cocky and chosen advanced yoga, assuming it wouldn't be too difficult to keep up given your figure skating background. Big, big mistake. You were living it up at first… however, as the class progressed and poses like 'the crow' and 'the flying pigeon' began to appear, you found yourselves admiring everyone rather than trying to keep up.

As a result, you were only doing the same five poses over and over, which got boring really quick. Besides, you weren’t even mastering the intermediate ones...  as Niall was struggling with flexibility, while you were having trouble with all the arm strength exercises. That was when you started to get chatty, even though you were well aware that it wasn't appropriate.

You'd already been told to be quiet twice, so when your phone went off in the middle of class you didn't hesitate to roll up your mats and leave, figuring you had already caused enough disturbance.

“We'll never be allowed back there again...” Niall remarked on the way to the locker rooms. “Did you see how she looked at us when your phone rang? That wasn’t very Yin and Yang of her…”

“Well… to be fair, we were being incredibly rude...” You checked your phone for the notification you had received during class. “Speaking of rude, you won't believe who was texting me just now…”

“Who?” He realized who you were referring to when you made a face and pointed your head toward the rink. The yoga classes were held in the same section, the one dedicated to indoor sports. Despite being on opposite ends, you knew the hockey team was there because you had passed by and heard them. “No way... are you serious? What did he say? Does it have anything to do with the rink?”

“He didn't say... just asked if I could meet him at that cafe we used to go to after class. He says it’s urgent.”

“Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on the way back from class; it's close by.”

“No, don't worry. I end class earlier than you today, so I can take the shuttle like I used to.” You were guessing Harry had remembered you had a similar school schedule on Fridays, which is why he didn't bother telling you a time. He knew you would be there by 3pm... supposedly. “I don’t know if I’m going, though… I don’t know what he wants.”

“Yes you are.” Niall asserted, as if the idea of you not going was the most insane thing ever. “What if it’s something to do the rink?”

“What if it’s nothing to do with the rink?”

“No, come on… it has to have something to do with it.” He insisted. “I know you want to go; you're just nervous about seeing him.”

“No, the only reason why I am nervous is because he isn’t telling me what he wants. It's weird.”

Niall paused for a moment as you reached the door for the women’s locker rooms. His face let you know he was debating whether or not to tell you what was on his mind. He decided to do so. “It's obviously up to you whether you go or not, but if I were you I’d go just to see what he wants. You don't have to sit there all afternoon if you don't want to... and if things get too awkward, you can text me and I'll show up there to save you.”

“Right.” You replied even though you knew it wasn't the most appropriate answer.

You realized it would be stupid not to go knowing it could be about the rink. There was a good chance it was, which was supposed to get you excited, but in reality was doing the exact opposite. Selfishly, you wanted this to be about you and nothing else.

As petty as it sounds, you wanted to get there and hear Harry admit that he missed you, that karma had gotten him good, or something else that made you feel like your suffering had been worthwhile even if you were never getting back together. That was why you were afraid to go… because you would be disappointed if he looked as fine as he did last time.

“Does that mean you're going?” Niall asked, cutting through the pitiful thoughts racing through your mind.

You chewed on your lower lip. “I guess.”

You saw him as soon as you walked into the cafe.

He was sitting alone, but there was a girl “standing” next to his table. To refer to that as plain standing would be inaccurate. You knew what she was doing, and most of all you knew what for.

She was showcasing the best she had to offer. That was why her hips were pushed back, and her gut was pinched so firmly.

She fixed her hair over her shoulder, and you got a glimpse of her face. She was hot enough to get you to stand up straighter, but not to make you wonder if you should have spent more time getting ready before coming.

You stayed back and waited for their interaction to be over. For you, this was nothing new. You’d grown so used to watching girls fawning over him that it rarely made you jealous anymore, despite it always being slightly unpleasant to witness.

The bright side was that experience taught you when to worry… and now wasn't the time.

She appeared to be asking a question about game tickets, but you could tell by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't all that interested in chatting with her. He looked like he wanted to be left alone. He was doing that thing that he used to do when random people approached him back when you were together - he smiled politely but barely said a word.

It took the girl some time to catch on, but eventually she got the hint. He wasn’t interested, and no amount of flashing her cleavage would change his mind. She stepped away, and you took it as your cue to walk over.

“Hey.” You greeted as you got to the table, hurrying to remove your scarf and jacket before you took the chair facing Harry’s. Not that there was any other option to pick, anyway.

“Hi.” He smiled slightly, before pushing one of the coffee cups on the table towards you. “I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered you a drink...”

His gesture brought you back to memories frozen in time, but you didn't allow yourself to linger on them too long. You and Harry used to meet at this coffee shop all the time. In fact, it was once one of your favorite places in town but being here now only brought back sensations you'd rather avoid. Still, for the sake of politeness, you accepted his drink. “Oh, um… thanks. You didn't have to get me anything...”

“I know I didn’t.” He took a sip of his cup, and you impulsively mimicked his action. The coffee which used to taste like love, suddenly seemed almost too dull to drink. “You still like those, right?”

You wondered if he had noticed your grimace. “Yeah, it's what I always used to get from here. I'm surprised you remember…”

“I guess I haven't had enough time to forget most things about you yet.” A twinge of discomfort shot through your chest at his words. You suspect he caused it on purpose. “I have a sharp memory.”

“I'm not sure that'll last if you keep hitting your head like that.” Your point was lost on him, which kind of made you regret making it in the first place. “You've got a bruise… on your...”

“Oh, that.” He tried to mask it with a quick ruffle of his hair, but you could still see it. “That's nothing, forget about it.”

“I wouldn't exactly call it nothing, when-”

“I didn’t ask you to come here to talk about that.” He intervened before you finished. “There’s something I need from you.” He admitted, crossing his arms over the table.

“'All right then, what is it?”

“That jersey I gave you, do you still have it?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I need it back.” His request caught you completely off guard. Your mouth opened and tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Mine got ripped and the spare I gave you is the only one I have left.”

When you finally spoke, it was quickly and angrily. “I'm not giving it back.” You said, and Harry let out a groan. “You never mentioned I was only allowed to keep it until you needed it back. It looked like a gift to me.”

Another sigh followed, this time deeper and more frustrated. “That’s because it was a gift… but now I need it, and I'm pretty sure you're not wearing it, so what difference does it make?”

You crossed your arms and shook your head. “You can't ask for gifts back, that's nasty.”

Why, of all things, did he have to ask you to give back his jersey? It was the most special gift he had ever given you. And now just because he never got to see you wear it, it automatically meant you didn't care for it?

That was simply not true!

Behind closed doors, his jersey was still a favorite.

Frankly, the only reason why you stopped wearing it during games was because you thought it would be demeaning not to. It would have been weird for everyone, plus you didn't think Harry would appreciate you walking around with his number on your back when you weren't together anymore.

Not that people thinking he had a girlfriend would have been enough to keep any hookups from happening if he wanted them to. When it came to Harry, it seemed nothing was ever enough to discourage girls from trying their luck. It wasn't just because he played on the hockey team. That was a bonus, but it was insignificant compared to the rest. His looks, his character, his sense of humor… from the surface, Harry looked like a catch, and finding that he was everything but, hurt. You still loved him, so it hurt. You hated how it all still hurt.

“I'm not asking for any of the other stuff back. I'm asking for my jersey because I desperately need it; else, I wouldn't be asking.” He explained as you sat there, feeling your chest squeeze as you half-listened to his reasoning. “Please Y/N, this is sort of critical for me.”

His slightly pouted lips suggested that he had also not forgotten how to sneak his way inside your heart. It wasn't a difficult task, but it was aggravating how well it still worked.

The worst part is that he didn't even do it on purpose; it was just the way his face looked whenever he wanted something and was told no. It was the same face that managed to get your panties to come off that one time right before a game, despite your fear of getting caught.

“Fine. I'll give your stupid jersey back,” When he smiled in relief, you halted your words, but only for a moment. “Under one condition.” His nostrils flared as he took a long breath, gearing himself up for what you were about to say next. “You'll have to convince your coach to give us our ice time back, otherwise you can forget it.”

“Y/N, can we not do this right now, please? I already told you that I had nothing to do with that shit.”

Harry’s reaction left you feeling oddly disappointed. Not angry, but close to it. That was when you realized you had made the same mistake again. You had been expecting him to be concerned, or at least to act as if he cared. It wasn't his job to care. It wasn't his job to make sure you were happy.

Nonetheless, Harry could still be the key to getting what you wanted.

It didn't feel good to have to coax him into backing you, but it was your duty to do so for Niall and the rest of the skaters. The hockey team had crossed a line, and if this was the only way to stop them, so be it.

He might not be thrilled to help you, but he had the means to do so. If he wanted to get a favor, he would have to do one for you as well. In the end, it was only fair.

“I believe you, but you're the team captain, and I know he'll listen to you.” You took another sip of the coffee you had almost forgotten was there. “I'm only taking a favor for a favor… sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

“Okay, fine, whatever. I’ll see what I can do.”

You cocked a brow at his reaction. “That's not enough. If I can't see any improvements, the deal is off.”

Harry stretched in his chair, crossing his arms behind his neck while he mused. “That's called extortion, you know? It’s a felony.”

Your lips curled as you snorted at his remark. “It's not my fault you got in a fight and need a new jersey; I'm simply taking advantage of the circumstances. Besides, you aren't so innocent yourself... or did you think I couldn’t tell you were trying to butter me up earlier by getting me my favorite drink?”

Harry’s eyes widened with what looked to be confusion and amusement... and perhaps even a little happiness. “You were at the game?”

Your face got warm. “Oh, uh… yeah. I went with Niall. He likes watching sports, so...”

“Ha, I see...” His face turned expressionless. “You're wrong about your drink, by the way... I wasn’t trying to butter you up, I just thought it'd be a nice gesture.”

“Yeah, I guess...” You smiled a bit, before deciding to congratulate him on his team's victory. “You played well yesterday. Everyone went crazy when you scored that goal at the end.” The moment you finished talking, you noticed Harry was slouching in his chair, just staring at you. It was almost trance-like, the way his eyes weren’t able to stop smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked, but then in a sudden move, he got up, picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “I have to get going. I've got homework.”

You didn't really buy his excuse, but you also didn’t question it since you knew he wouldn't tell you whatever it was that was on his mind. “Yeah, okay.” You said instead, despite your enquiring face. “I guess I’ll see you...”

“Tuesday.” He completed. “I'm not sure what time yet, but I'll let you know.”

He was gone in an instant, leaving you alone with nothing but two unfinished cups of sad, tasteless coffee to keep you company.

Tuesday came by quickly.

Amidst the week's rush of lectures at university, runs and yoga classes with Niall, as well as preparations for the championship, you barely registered the days passing by.

As far as your agreement with Harry goes, you knew he had kept true to his word since there were no hulking hockey players in sight that day when you got to the rink.

Given that you had agreed on Tuesday, you didn't bother getting up early the mornings before to check on the rink's availability... and considering that you had the schedule for it over the weekend, you ended up booking that open spot in the afternoon right after lunch for free skating, even though it wasn't the most ideal.

The return to the ice on Tuesday morning, however, was a welcome relief.

The weather was peaceful… the ice was fresh, and you and Niall were able to make progress on a tricky jump that had been giving you the willies as of lately. It wasn’t perfect yet, but at least by the end of the morning you no longer felt like you were putting Niall through the danger of getting a neck fracture every time you leapt onto his shoulders.

Later that day, you met with your choreographer and he too noticed a positive shift in your performance. Having barely been on the ice over the week other than with your instructors, the shift was somewhat surprising... but it also made sense to an extent, since the break had allowed you to focus on other forms of training that you normally considered supplementary – like practicing balance and endurance.

After your choreography lesson, Niall invited you to go to the mall with him.

He wanted to check out a new tech store that had opened there, and since you had nothing better to do than finish the schoolwork you were procrastinating on, you accepted his invitation.

It was a fun afternoon, though you ended up spending much longer than you’d originally planned just browsing around. You barely noticed the hours passing, which was mostly Niall's fault because he had this extraordinary ability to beguile people with conversation topics that were seemingly random but made for weirdly interesting discussions.

His conversation starters almost always initiated with “Have you ever thought about...” and then something crazy would follow. It was impossible to stop the tangents after that, especially if he happened to touch on a subject that you considered to be interesting too. When that was the case, the two of you would just go on and on like a never-ending pit.

This happened several times that noon.

So, despite having been anxious as hell for the better part of the day knowing you’d be meeting up with Harry later, the whole thing had almost slipped your mind by the time he texted you asking if you'd at the centre soon.

“Shit.” You muttered while replying to his message saying you were on your way. “Can you drive me to the sports centre? I need to get something to Harry and I'm too late to walk there.”

“Yeah, sure.” Niall said as you began making your way to the escalator that took you to the underground parking lot. It had become less crowded since you arrived, so finding the car wasn't too difficult. “So what’s going, you’ve been talking with him again?”

“Nothing is going on. I told you about him asking for his jersey back. I'm surprised you forgot…”

“Ah! True, true.” He responded as he climbed into the driver's seat. “I just wanted to ask if there was anything else besides that. I know you aren't fully over him yet, which is understandable, but...” He paused, then let out a sigh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I don't want my friend to end up in the same position again if you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” You leaned back in your seat and stared out the window. “But don't worry, that's not going to happen. It's pretty obvious he doesn't like me, but even if he did…well, as the saying puts it… once bitten, twice shy.”

You talked about something lighter the rest of the way there. Niall wasn’t the type to bring up uncomfortable topics or force you to talk when you didn't feel like it. He usually just listened when you shared, which was good. He still gave his advice if you asked for it, but when it came to your situation with Harry, that wasn't what you needed, and he was aware of that.

What you needed was a friend that respected your decisions, but still cared about your well-being at the same time. A friend who understood you'd want to go meet your ex on your own but still offered to wait and give you a ride home afterward, so you didn’t have to walk alone at night.

The next day, the hockey team was playing outside of town, so there was a big, tall bus parked at the back of the sports centre.. and a shadowy man standing right next to it. The sky had already darkened so it was hard to see, especially on the side he was on, which wasn't getting bathed by the centre’s lights like the opposite one was.

Logically, you knew it must be Harry, but you didn't want to get too close without being sure. It could be the bus driver, or someone who happened to be there for something else. So instead of walking over, you stood at a reasonable distance and cast a wide-eyed glance in all directions, before lowering your gaze to your phone screen to text Harry letting him know you were outside.

But before you could send him anything, you were startled by his voice. “You can come over here, I don’t bite.”

You hoped the nighttime blindness worked both ways because you had jumped a little with the scare, which had to have looked a little stupid. “Oh, it is you! I couldn't tell from back there… it’s er…dark.”

If he saw you jump, he didn’t acknowledge it, instead he asked, “Did you walk all the way here by yourself?”

He seemed concerned that you had, which gave you a warm feeling in your belly. You didn't know what to make of it. “Oh, no. I was at the mall with Niall when you called so, he drove me. He’s parked at the front.”

“Hm.” Harry grunted dryly, which sparked a little awkward pause until he finally asked the dreaded question, “Do you have the jersey?”

“Oh yeah- one second... it's in my bag.” You smiled stiffly before you started rummaging around for it. “I’m not the best at doing laundry so the color might have gotten bit worn off from the washer, I hope that’s not an issue.”

“That’s fine.” He tossed the jersey over his shoulder, disregarding how neatly you'd folded it. “Thanks.”

“Okay, um… you must be pressed for time, so…”

“Not necessarily.” You found the coldness in his voice upsetting, and you couldn't figure out why he was stalling you when he obviously wasn't delighted to see you. “So how’s the situation with the rink, did it all work out?”

“It did.” It was a brief response, but you didn't feel like standing there chit-chatting just for the sake of it. “Thanks, for helping and… I guess for asking too.”

“Don’t thank me.” He said it brusquely, which irritated you even more. “Okay, um… I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Yeah, that.” You curled your lips in a weak smile, and Harry did the same before setting out to go back inside the building. Sadly, upon watching him leave, you couldn't resist calling his name to see his face again. “Hey, Harry-” His head jerked back at the sound. “Have a good game tomorrow. I hope you win!”

He looked like he was about to look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he returned your gaze, as though he was contemplating something. There was a strange glint in his eyes, and it lingered there as he began walking back towards you. And then, wordlessly, swiftly and without a warning, his hands reached for your face… and his lips reached for a kiss.

You squeaked in surprise at the feeling, but that was all there was to it. After Harry’s lips' familiar texture took over, there wasn't much room left for surprises. His body steered yours backwards against the side of the bus, sheltering you from any curious eyes peering through the windows above. “Harry, what-”

“Stop talking,” He muttered against your lips, still laying kisses in between. “I know it's messed up but if we both keep quiet, no one has to know it happened.”

Your throat was itching to respond, but his kissing made your head blurry. His mouth lowered to taste your neck, kissing every inch of skin it swept by. Then, just when you thought it couldn't be any better, his tongue slipped out and found a spot that had you gasping quietly.

The touch of his body was setting yours on fire, reviving it in a way it hadn't been in ages. Your kisses grew hotter and heavier, and before either of you could pause and wonder if this was right, Harry was already fumbling with the button of your jeans - and you were letting him.

“Do you still think of my hands?” You could feel the warmth of his words on your skin as his fingers slid in. His pace was slow, almost too slow, as if he was enjoying listening to the eagerness of your heartbeats. “I think of yours most times; whenever I play with myself, it’s always you… your hands... your mouth... your pussy…”

You both moaned as Harry reached the hot spot hidden beneath your panties. He rubbed a bit around it, in slow and steady circles. “I’ve always loved how fast it reacts to my touch… it gets so wet and creamy, and your clit… fuck, ‘s all puffy and twitchy…” His fingers pressed harder on it, stroking more firmly.

And shit, you were getting there already. So, so close that your entire body was twitching uncontrollably against his. “Please… d-don’t stop.”

“Already? Fuck baby… you haven't been giving it the proper attention lately, have you?” You shook your head in response to his question. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had gotten to that point, but Harry was right; you hadn't had an orgasm in a while… and of course, he could tell. “I'm not gonna lie, I already suspected that she wasn't being well taken care of, but shit... that's just disgraceful, isn't it?”

You could hardly gather the strength to answer him. The only sound you could muster were a few high-pitched "mhmms" that were muffled against his neck. You groaned when he pushed his fingers in and pierced through your hymen a little too briskly. “Still?”

You felt a little offended by how surprised he sounded but acknowledged his question with a nod. “It’s okay, just breathe…” He whispered softly into your jaw as his motions became gentler.

This wasn’t the first time Harry had used his fingers on you, but usually it was more the outside bits that he focused on. He loved giving oral, so you did a lot of that… the fingering thing only came later once you started having conversations about him taking your virginity. If it were up to you, you’d no longer have it, but Harry had wanted to take things slow. He knew your mind was prepared, but he had wanted to make sure your body was too… just so the experience was painless and pleasurable for both, and not just for him.

The stretching burn you were feeling eased after a while. It still stinged a little, but it wasn’t a bad type of feeling. Slowly but surely, it was transforming into a different type of heat, the kind that spread through your abdomen and got you to spasm around Harry’s fingertips.

He was going to make you cum if he kept on doing what he was doing…

Which he didn't.

He stopped right before you got there.

You stared up at him in confusion, right before you started glancing around to make sure no one was walking out of one of the buildings or approaching the bus. “What- what happened? Why did you stop?”

“Stop with what, hm?” That feeling of disorientation pervaded your mind for a moment, but reality set in once he started re-tucking your jeans back into place with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

This was it.

He was done.

“That was a cute little warm up, wasn't it?” He shamelessly asked as he zipped up your fly. “It's a shame it had to end so abruptly… you seemed to be enjoying yourself... but don't get me wrong, this has been good fun for me too.”

With nothing to say or do, you just stood there astounded. You were torn between sobbing out of frustration, seeking an explanation, and simply leaving without uttering another word. It wasn't like whatever decision you made mattered anyway since none of those options would accomplish you anything.

The mess had already been made.

You shouldn't have allowed this to happen, and shouldn't have enjoyed it, but you did. It would have been much smarter to put a stop to things right the moment Harry kissed you but, despite the circumstances, you couldn't bring yourself to do it… and now, after everything he'd already done, he was ridiculing you.

When you looked at him again, you noticed that all of the traces of humor that had been gracing his features had dissipated. His gaze felt like steel, harsh and bitterly cold. “You should go. Niall's waiting for you, remember?”

His chest got shoved back by your clasped fists. “You’re an asshole!”

He tried to grab your wrists, but you shoved his chest again. It was enough to make him back down, although he still managed to get a hold of your arm. He used that to keep you from leaving. “I may be.” He spoke right in your ear. “Now you know what it feels like to be left stranded. I hope you fucking liked it as much as I fucking did.”  

PART 2

[justmeinatree]

02 - Together, We’re The Greatest

Summary : part 2 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part

TW : smut, double penetration, creampie, honestly it’s fkn filthy.

Word Count : 5.5k

“louis !” niall smiles, speaking a bit too loudly, even with the thumping of the music, obviously a good amount of alcohol flowing through his veins. he pats his friend on the shoulder, pulling him close. 

“niall !” louis chuckles, screaming too loudly, on purpose to imitate his drunk friend, not having drank quite as much, as he’d gotten to the party a bit late. 

“c’mere,” niall hums, nodding towards the back door, and leading him outside, effectively shutting out the booming bass and the rambunctious crowd that had taken over his living room. “haven’t seen ya much tonight, wanted to talk to you though.”

“yeah ?” he laughs, watching the buzz course through his friend, lighting a cigarette as they’re now outside, “what’s up nialler ?”

“think you might want to stay a bit later than everyone else ?” he asks, the fog in his brain making it seem obvious to himself as to what he was asking.

“now why am i getting roped into clean up duty ? know i’m the fuckin worst at it. why don’t you ask-“

“no, no,” niall’s quick to shake his head. “y/n’s been dropping hints for her birthday present, and, well, think she’d fuckin kill me if i didn’t at least ask,” he mumbles, locking eyes with louis, “would you, maybe, want to spend another night with us ?”

louis’ eyes grow wide, taking a good hearty puff from his smoke, gnawing on his lip for a moment, thinking it over, before blowing out.

obviously he was well aware that niall wasn’t asking for louis to spend the night just hanging out, eventually crashing somewhere cozy, or more often than not, not quite cozy, from pure exhaustion.

no, this time, he was clearly asking about sex, referring to the time, 7 months ago now, when he thought he’d forgotten his smokes and barged in on his friends’ late night activities. 

as he puffs away at his cigarette, his brain starts reeling with images of that trusty time. how fucking tight you were taking both of them, such a fuckin good girl for doing so. christ, he even remembers how good niall’s tongue made him feel.

niall plucks the smoke from louis’ fingers, taking a drag himself, louis’ brain flicking back to reality, and to the question at hand.

“can see you thinking over there,” niall hums around a puff of smoke. “dont have to if you dont want to. s’just a question, yeah ? i can always say i forgot to ask you, or i can come up-“

“fuckin hell you’re chatty when you’re drunk,” louis laughs, shaking his head. “was so good last time. plus, i can’t live with myself if i disappoint the birthday girl,” he adds, chuckling.

niall giggles, biting his lip, “it did feel good. think y/n and i both, didn’t shut up about it for weeks.”

louis feels a light blush work its way up his neck to the apples of his cheeks, eyes growing wide, “s’that so ?”

“mhmm,” niall nods, obviously saying more than he probably would care to admit if he was sober. thankfully, louis is his most easy going friend, most relaxed of the bunch, not here to judge him, more curious about his friend’s thoughts. “i dont know what it was really, but seeing her take us both, how much more intense it is when there’s more bodies and more hands,” niall rambles on, “felt so fuckin good. dont remember the last time i’d felt so fucked out. s’usually a her thing. i dont know, guess you helped me let go a bit.”

“christ niall, didn’t think you’d felt so strongly about it” louis chuckles embarrassingly, a slight tease to his tone, knowing niall can take it and won’t misread into it. but it does make the blush deepen on his features, deciding to let niall in on his thoughts as well. “was good wasn’t it ? love that you dont over think it. you just go with it, fuckin dirty lad, you.”

they both laugh, niall’s turn to blush a deep crimson, louis’ arm swinging over his shoulders, pulling niall into him, giving his hair a ruffle, “m’not judging, fuckin loved it mate. c’mon, lets go back in.”

as they both trudge back into the house, the loud music hitting their ears again, you finally spot them, making your way over, wrapping your arms around louis’ neck, “you were late !” you pout playfully.

“m’sure i can find a way to make it up to you, love,” louis chuckles, arms winding their way around your waist, holding you tight. and for a moment, a drunken minded moment, you tuck your face into his neck, groaning softly as your senses are invaded with louis, louis, louis.

obviously you’d seen him tons since that trusty night half a year ago, but with your senses inebriated, you felt yourself tingle. felt yourself fall into him, your body already worked up, the prospect of tonight’s activities at the forefront of your imagination. as easy as it usually was to keep your want towards him at bay, 7 months was a long time, and you’re struggling to keep up your composure. especially with the coursing of the alcohol through your bloodstream.

his eyes shut upon hearing your groan, hands gripping into your waist, squeezing hard, niall piping up at the scene, “alright, alright. ya gotta hold it together for a while longer. can’t let everyone see this.”

“he’s right, love,” louis hums against your ear, his warm breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. as he slowly pulls away from you, smiling, “m’gonna get myself a drink, catch up with you a bit. feeling a bit too sober,” he laughs. 

you turn to niall as louis walks off, smiling wide, “you talked to him then,” you hum excitedly, your arms finding their familiar spot around his neck.

“yeah, i did,” he smiles wide, pressing his lips to yours, “think he wants this as bad as we do.”

“we ?” you ask, biting your lip with a knowing smirk. although niall couldn’t stop talking about it last time, he never straight up said that he liked it or that he’d do it again. but you’d known niall long enough to be fairly certain that both were true, no matter how hard he avoided the words per say.

you watch niall’s cheeks turn bright pink, eyes widening, as he stuffs his face against your shoulder, groaning loudly. maybe louis was right, he is chatty when he’s drunk. and he admits way more than he’d like to. it elicits a laugh from you, patting his head, “dont be ashamed. love that we can do this together. that all of us can enjoy it just as much.”

you can feel niall nodding against your neck, trailing kisses up to your jaw and cheeks, playfully leaving pecks all over your skin in a silent thank you for being the best he could have ever asked for.

the rest of the evening went by in a flash, except for the times that it didn’t. there were moments, the kind where you’d end up pressed between niall and louis on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, both of their hands shamelessly wandering over your body, both of their hips grinding against you. niall’s lips on your neck, louis’ eyes locked with yours, unable to make the move he so desperately wants to make. the tension growing in all your bellies. those are the moments where you wish the evening would end, and you could continue the scene without any wandering eyes.

and as soon as the last person was finally shuffled through the threshold, door shut and locked, you turn your body to face louis, your hands gripped into his shirt, by his collarbones, your entire being rolled into his own, as you press your mouths together. you’d been craving a taste of him all night, and although niall’s constant kisses satiated your needs, you were craving the one you couldn’t have. at least until now.

at first, louis lets out a little yelp in surprise, not expecting you to jump him so soon. his hands grip into your flesh, one onto your arm, the other slipped under your shirt to feel your hip, steadying you. he quickly looses himself into you, into the kiss, his tongue slipping out to stroke over the plushness of your bottom lip, before gently biting into it.

you whimper, your hips instinctively rolling into his, your centre already dripping, clit aching for some form of friction.

louis presses his stiffening prick against you, both hands slipping to your ass, holding you tightly against him, chasing some relief of his own, “forgot how feisty you are, christ.”

“been teasing me all night,” you whine softly, pouting up at louis, feeling niall’s hands gently land on your hips, thumbs stroking your skin. “both of you have.”

“irresistible, you,” niall coos quietly, sucking little kisses into your neck, pressing himself against your ass, louis’ hands pinned between your bodies.

“really are,” louis hums, nipping at your bottom lip playfully, his nails digging into your ass, knuckles pressed back, pushing against niall’s cock, smirking at him, “lucky lad aren’t you nialler ?”

“mhmm, the luckiest,” he agrees, his nails digging small crescent shapes into your soft skin, little twinges of pain shooting through you, as niall locks eyes with louis, giving him a playful look, both of them clearly letting the booze from earlier soothe any nerves, and sideline any reservations.

“can’t believe you’re sharing her with me,” louis chuckles, his clothed cock rolling against your body, pressing you back tighter to niall, a series of mixed moans and panting breaths echoing through the now empty living room.

“she takes us both so well,” niall groans, “love being able to do this with you. both of you,” he adds, finally acknowledging your presence.

you whimper loudly, wiggling your body, wanting to feel them so badly. hearing them talk about you, as if you weren’t there, pushing you to your breaking point. you really couldn’t wait any longer. your body was literally trembling for any sort of relief, “please, fuck, please.”

“hmm, my sweet girl. it depends, yeah ? are you still being good for me ?” niall coos, pushing himself against your ass again.

you quickly nod, leaning your head back against niall’s shoulder, looking up at him, “been good. been good all night.”

louis furrows his eyebrows, watching the exchange before him, “what m’i missing ?”

“show him, pet,” niall smirks, patting your hip, as he steps away, giving you the space to pull away from louis. niall makes his way over to the couch, taking a seat and beckoning you over, “c’mere.”

you smile wide at louis, a playful glint in your eye that doesn’t go unnoticed to him, sauntering over to niall, standing between his thighs, facing him.

niall works over the button and zip of your jeans, eyes flicked up at you as he goes, speaking over you to louis, “we were hoping you’d join us tonight. didn’t want to waste any time, so we got a little head start.”

and well that, that doesn’t really clear anything up for louis. that is until niall finally has your pants worked down, and until your knee rests on the couch next to niall’s thigh, and you’re leaning over to kiss him, hands braced on the back of the sofa. with your ass up towards louis, niall reaches over to pull your thong to the side, exposing a heart shaped gem, nestled between your cheeks, attached to what louis can only assume is a pretty pink plug sitting deep inside you. and based on the conversation he was just privy to, it has been for the entirety of the evening.

for a moment, louis’ head spins, fingers reaching out instinctively to touch the glistening gem, his eyes locked on your ass, cheeks spread just for him to see. he presses softly against the heart, hearing your muffled whimper as your lips are suctioned to niall’s.

“fuckin hell you guys,” louis groans, pressing harder on the plug. “s’this why you kept grinding on her earlier ?” he asks niall, before turning his attention to you, adding, “christ, did it feel good, love ? liked having niall press on your pretty plug ? everyone around, watching the birthday girl, and you’re getting off in the middle of the dance floor. bet your cunt is fuckin soaked because of it, innit ?”

you whine, heat shooting through your spine, landing right in your centre, fingertips digging into niall’s shoulders, as your jaw goes slack. you can feel yourself clenching, the plug getting nestled deeper inside you with every press of louis’ fingers, your pussy begging for attention, arousal dripping down onto niall’s clothed thigh.

“she’s fuckin dripping mate,” niall breathes, his eyes locked between the both of you, watching your body trembling, watching the desperation seeping out of you, watching the drip, drip, drip, of your cunt.

“gonna let me taste, darling ?” louis coos, looking up at niall, confirming that he’s okay with it as well, “missed out last time yeah ? bet your cunt tastes so fuckin sweet.”

“please, please, fuck,” you whimper, nodding quickly, turning yourself around, sitting back against niall’s lap, spreading your legs, in a desperate attempt to display yourself to louis.

his eyes zero in on your pussy, absolutely drenched, your thighs shaking, as his finger tentatively reaches out to swipe over your slit, before patting your inner thigh, “lets strip you properly first, hmm ?” he hums. “maybe we should let niall strip too ? can switch that plug out for something even better.”

“yeah,” you breathe, shuffling off of niall’s lap, louis’ hands falling on your hips, gliding up your body to remove your shirt. he had you almost in a trance, your arms instinctively rising, his fingertips tickling against your heated skin.

you can hear the shuffling behind you, niall’s clothes being stripped off before he stands, kissing over your neck, “strip him, too.”

“help me,” you breathe, so lost in the moment, in the feeling of them, your brain not working properly. 

niall’s gaze flicks up to louis’, silently checking in with him, because this felt oddly different ? but he’s met with a chuckling louis, shaking his head, “with everything that’s about to happen, i don’t think taking my clothes off should be anything to worry about.”

niall laughs, flipping him off, before reaching for louis’ pants, and pulling them down along with his boxers in one quick swoop, as you make quick work of removing his shirt.

“christ, you two don’t waste any time,” louis shakes his head, smirking, watching niall go to sit back down, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you back to sit on him. watches as niall grips your inner thighs, spreading your legs to hook them over his knees, sitting his feet up against the coffee table.

“give us a hand, mate,” niall hums, “can you take the plug out ?”

louis’ brain snaps into action, nodding, “‘course i can,” as he makes his way between niall’s legs, dropping to his knees, eyes level with your cunt. he can feel his mouth watering, desperate to take a lick, to taste you. but, for the moment, there’s a task at hand. 

you can feel the moment louis’s fingers reach out for the plug, a small, breathy whimper getting caught in your throat. it doesn’t go unnoticed to niall, his face practically next to yours, making him pepper soft kisses along your shoulder, fingertips ghosting over your stomach, hips, thighs, soothing you.

louis twists the plug around, watching your pussy flutter with every move, working a slow rhythm inside you, not wanting to pull it out too quickly. 

your arms reach up, one hand landing in niall’s hair, your thumb stroking his scalp, as your fingers grip and run through his hair. he can hear your breathy pants in response to louis’ teasing, “s’he playing with you, pretty girl ?”

you nod, humming an affirmation, biting on your lip as you feel louis pull the plug out halfway, feeling the catch of the largest part around your rim, before quickly pressing it back in. you stuff your face into niall’s neck, breathing him in, gripping his hair tightly for a moment.

niall groans in response, hips bucking up, his prick pressing up against the back of louis’ hand, eliciting a laugh, “alright, message received, no more teasing,” louis hums, working the plug out of you, watching a dribble of arousal leak down from your centre.

“barely need lube,” louis bites his lip, watching a second bubble drip down, your pussy clenching at his words, “she’s fuckin dripping on herself, mate.”

“such a good girl,” niall hums, lips quirking up into a smile, pressing his head against yours, fingertips gliding up to your breasts, spiralling around and around, until he reaches your nipples, thumb and index finger closing in on them, giving a gentle tug. 

your chest rises along with him, chasing his fingers, his touch, right as louis’ fingers run through your folds, collecting some of your wetness and spreading it over niall’s cock.

you moan out, biting your lip, niall moaning as well, just a moment after you. with louis’ fingers dipping through your folds to gather your arousal, before wrapping his fist around niall’s cock, stroking over it to deposit your juices.

he watches as more and more of your arousal pools by your entrance, overflowing down to your bum with every clench, desperate to feel more than what louis’ given you so far. 

“fuckin christ, louis,” niall groans, hips bucking up, the wetness from your heat giving his cock such a delicious glide through louis’ hand, fist wrapped tightly around his member.

“feeling good ?” louis smirks, “haven’t even started, mate. honestly think i could slip ya right inside her. wasn’t kidding about not needing lube.”

“do it,” you whimper, “fuck, please do it. can’t take it anymore, lou.” 

biting his lip, louis’ eyes flick up to you. hearing the desperation in your voice, he really couldn’t keep himself from giving you what you so obviously needed. so he guides niall’s cock to your puckering hole, niall feeling the moment his tip makes contact with your ring of muscle, taking over and pressing his prick, slowly, deep inside you.

you feel your body melting back against niall, your entire being, instantly relaxed, muscles gone limp, finally, fucking finally, getting some form of relief. one that you’d been so deeply craving.

“fuck,” niall breathes against your cheek, “always feel so fuckin good, pet,” he groans, hips starting to move slowly, getting you used to the much larger intrusion in comparison to the plug.

you whimper, turning your face, kissing niall hard, teeth biting into his bottom lip when you realize louis’ tongue had darted out to take a long lick up your slit, hand reaching down to grip into louis’ hair.

“knew you’d taste sweet,” louis mutters, face burying itself in your cunt, licking, nipping, tasting. it was messy, he was messy, somehow always right where you didn’t even know you needed him. lapping at your entrance, sucking on your clit, nipping against your folds. he’d even spit right where niall’s cock would meet your hole, adding a bit of lubrication at the perfect times.

niall’s mind was reeling, feeling the warmth and glide of louis’ added wetness, and yet, he knew, his mind was nowhere near as far gone as yours. he could feel your body trembling, could feel your chest rising and falling quicker, your pants breathier and whinier.

“louis’ making you feel good, pretty girl ? like the way he eats your cunt ? ” niall coos, holding onto your hips, keeping you in place, with no choice but to take whatever they give you. “fuck, think both of you are dripping.”

he wasn’t wrong. your heat was constantly clenching over nothing, more and more bubbles of arousal leaking down to niall’s cock. an incredible amount of louis’ spit mixed in. he really was messy. and you loved every second of it.

“fuck, fuck,” you whimper, voice getting louder. you couldn’t remember the last time your skin felt so hot. so prickly. it felt like your body was burning from the inside out. “need- fuck, i need-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence, cut off by a loud moan when louis’ mouth wrapped around your clit, suctioning it into his mouth, flicking over it with his tongue.

niall, having been around you long enough, thankfully can read you better than you can yourself, eyes glued to your face, “christ, she’s gonna fuckin squirt, lou.”

as soon as the message reaches louis’ brain, he groans loudly, eyes rolling back, tongue lapping at your pussy harder, with more purpose. he was so entranced by you, his nose working over your clit, licking up every spot he can reach, almost suffocated in your folds.

with one hard thrust from niall, your ears started ringing, fingers and toes going numb, as you felt an explosion of tingling heat burst from your stomach, louis’ tongue working over you to collect as much of your squirt in his mouth as he could. the rest soaking his neck and chest, giving niall’s cock even more slickness to glide inside you.

louis pulls away from you slowly, his hands resting on your sides as he stands, rubbing soothingly into your skin. his gaze immediately locks with niall’s, catching his attention. louis taps his index gently against niall’s lip, nodding at him to open his mouth.

he does, without question, his mind a bit fuzzy from the tight clench of your inner walls, just moments ago, holding back his body’s scream for release. and as soon as his mouth is open, louis leans over brushing his nose against niall’s, depositing your squirt into his awaiting mouth.

niall groans at the taste of you, his eyes closing momentarily, looking back up at a smirking louis, “figured you’d want a taste too.”

“always. love tasting,” niall hums after swallowing, too enthralled in the events, and slight buzz from earlier, to realize how much he’s admitting to louis tonight.

and that. well, that just makes you jealous if you’re honest. a needy whine echoing from your throat.

louis looks over at you, eyebrow raised, niall jumping in to fill in for you, “you want a taste too, dont ya, petal ?” making you nod quickly.

with a smile tugging at his lips, louis reaches out to gently stroke your cheek, “filthy girl,” he coos, leaning in to kiss you.

the moment his tongue slips into your mouth, you suckle on him, getting as much of a taste as you can, humming happily, in appreciation.

as louis pulls away from your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips together, eventually snapping as he gets further away, he flicks his eyes between the both of you, slightly out of breath, “fuck, you both look so fucked out.”

itching to feel what you both are, he taps his cock against your cunt, making you flinch on contact, a breathy whine puffing out of your lips, warming niall’s neck. and without any more of a warning to either of you, louis feeds his prick into you.

your jaw instantly goes slack, eyes rolling back, breath getting caught in your throat. it was so much. so much louis. so much niall. so much. so fucking much. all you could focus on was their touches, their groany pants, their cocks.

“louis-“ niall moans out, his grip into your waist digging deeper into your skin, nails nipping deliciously painfully. “f-fuck mate. so fucking tight.”

louis’ head drops to your shoulder, hands rubbing all over you, all over niall, christ he wasn’t sure anymore, he was feeling someone’s skin. he was all of a sudden incredibly overwhelmed. the incredible tight squeeze your cunt has on his dick, and fuck, he never thought hearing his friend moan out his name would sound so good, sound so arousing. 

regardless of how louis’ mind was on overdrive, his body took over, chasing that amazingly tingly feeling. he works up a slow rhythm, pummelling his cock deep into you, rolling over your sweet spot with each thrust.

“don’t stop,” you breathe, gasping for air. the feel of niall’s teeth on your neck and shoulder, louis tonguing over your chest and breasts, both of their hands tickling at your skin from time to time. “just- don’t fuckin stop.”

“can’t,” louis groans, nipping at you, “fuck, can’t stop, s’so good.” and it’s true. he can’t stop even if he tried. his body had completely taken over, feeling of pure ecstasy coursing through his blood. he’s not sure he’s ever been addicted to anything, but this just may be it. 

niall’s hand cards itself through louis’ hair, feeling every ridge of his friend’s cock through your thin walls, the head catching on niall’s tip with every thrust, making him tighten his grip, “feels so fuckin good louis.”

“fuck,” louis curses loudly, unable to help himself, as he looks up, his mouth lunging for niall’s, lips mashing together in a fight for dominance, needing niall to just shut up. he needed to focus on not cumming. but every fucking word that comes out of niall’s mouth brings him closer to the edge. and for some god forsaken reason, the best he could come up with at the moment was kiss the ever living hell out of him.

your eyes flick over to the scene before you, whimpering loudly, as louis’ thrusts had gotten harder since kissing niall, a mess of moans coming from right next to your ear. gripping onto louis’ hips, your body gives in, all senses on overdrive of moans and touches and fuck you never thought it’d turn you on so much to watch your boyfriend kissing your best friend.

your body goes rigid, back arching as much as it could with louis’ weight on you, squirting once again, your mind going blank, cumming harder than you think you ever have. 

“fuck, fuck, fucking hell,” louis groans loudly, teeth biting hard into niall’s lip, joining you over the edge, filling you up even more than you already were.

louis’ cum was so warm, so filling, your body was shivering with every spurt of white painting your walls. 

niall’s quick to grip into louis’ ass, holding his hips flush with yours, “christ, can feel ya cumming, lou.” 

louis trembles, looking up at both of you, his hair mussed up, sweat drenching his forehead, eyes blinking, as they fight to stay open. niall smiles softly at him, remembering exactly how it felt for him last time, “her cunt feel good, mate ?”

“fuck,” louis breathes, nodding, fingertips gently petting your stomach, “amongst other things,” he admits, answering niall’s question, adding, “fuckin good girl you are.”

you sigh, contently, but still on overdrive, your face tucked into niall’s neck, shuddering around every breath. your legs were fighting with niall’s to try and shut, everything just feeling too much, too much, too much.

niall gently runs his fingernails over your inner thighs, in an attempt to calm you, murmuring against your ear, “gotta let me finish me, pet. hmm, be a good girl for me ?”

“have you seriously not cum yet ?” louis asks incredulously. “how are you holding out ?”

“he can’t cum when he drinks,” you fill in, your mind swimming, mouthing against niall’s neck, trying to relax your body.

“gonna pull out,” louis hums, his cock growing increasingly sensitive the longer he stays inside you. regardless of the fact that neither of them were moving, your pussy was still spasming from the orgasm moments ago, and louis just couldn’t take it anymore. 

slowly, incredibly slowly, so as not to overwork either of you, louis pulls out, eyes fixed on your centre. he bites his lip, watching you clench over nothing, some of his cum bubbling out of you.

without much of a second thought, louis curls two fingers completely, pressing them inside you as a makeshift plug, keeping his orgasm stuffed inside you.

niall’s jaw instantly goes slack, his hand darting out to grip into louis’ forearm, “fuck are you doing ?”

“what ?” louis asks confused, eyebrows furrowed.

“fuckin-“ niall groans, hips rolling into you hard, cock seethed deep inside you. “so much pressure, fuck,” he grits, trying and failing to push louis’ hand away from you.

and then it clicks for louis. niall can feel his knuckles. with every thrust, the underside of niall’s cock glides hard into his bones. 

louis smirks at him, “still think you can’t cum when you’re drunk ?”

niall’s eyes roll back, a whine working it’s way from the depths of his chest, his other hand, the one that isn’t currently crushing louis’ arm, wraps itself across your body, bruising your hip, holding you in place, as he starts to fuck into you at a blinding pace.

you moan loudly, reaching for louis, needing a way to anchor yourself, ground yourself, for a moment. pulling him into you, you attempt to kiss him, but with your lips trembling and jaw randomly falling, louis found himself more often than not, kissing over your lips, cheeks, chin.

“make him cum, louis,” you whimper shakily, “please make him cum.”

niall moans, hearing your request, his cock diving into you one, two, three more times before filling you up as well. he pants heavily, a small chesty groan with every spurt of his high.  and he’ll just definitely go on pretending that the thought of his best friend making him cum isn’t what ended up breaking his “no cumming while drunk” streak.

you turn your face into niall’s neck, whimpering through your harsh breathing, a shiver running through your body.

you feel niall’s arms wrap around your body, trying to keep you warm, murmuring softly, “lemme pull you, sweet girl.” and a moment later, you feel his cock falling out of you, making you whimper louder, feeling his cum dribbling out of you, clenching over nothing for the first time since the plug went into you, however many hours ago now.

louis’ got his eyes glued on your heat, fingers pulling out of you to catch the dripping of niall’s high. you shudder, completely overstimulated, body wiggling in a begging attempt to finally close your legs.

“don’t let her,” louis mutters, making niall look down at what could possibly have him so enthralled.

“what are you doing ?” niall asks, “can’t keep going lou, she needs a break.”

but louis’ quick to shake his head, scooping as much of niall’s cum as he can, pressing it into your gaping cunt, his fingers mixing up all of your orgasms and arousal together. “s’fine, m’done. said you loved to taste,” he explains as his index dips inside you, scooping some of the mixture and feeding it past niall’s lips.

niall groans, eyes fluttering shut, tongue wrapping around louis’ finger, sucking back the musky, salty, sweet mix of all three of you. but as louis tries to pull his finger away, niall sucks it back into his mouth, getting a taste at louis’ skin while he’s at it.

and louis decides he’s going to go on pretending that the image of his best friend’s mouth on his prick isn’t making him stiffen, as he pulls his finger away for real, hearing the pop of niall’s lips and watching the string of his spit break the further louis’ finger gets.

with two fingers this time, he dips back into you, scooping out some more, his other hand reaching up to cup your jaw, thumb tapping on your lip, “since i’ve learned that you’ll start whining if i don’t share,” he teases, giggling quietly. your lips part, sticking your tongue out, louis wiping his fingers on your awaiting tongue, pressing it back into your mouth, fingers along with it.

you suck back the sticky liquid, cleaning off his fingers completely, your tongue rolling around them, louis pulling his digits away with another pop.

“again,” niall asks, slight desperation in his tone, as louis keeps feeding you both, taking turns until there’s almost none left.

“can i have a taste now ?” he chuckles, “greedy little fuckers, you.” and from one moment, louis’ tutting at both you and niall, the next moment, he’s dipping down low, tongue delving into you to get the last taste. 

louis makes quick work, not wanting to cause you any pain, kissing your clit softly, before pulling away, hands rubbing over your tummy, “such a fuckin good girl.”

niall adding against your ear, “happy birthday, petal.”

Part 3

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @cc-horan

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven - Part 2

WC: 12.5K

awe yeeeeah here we go. One ticket to smut town. Read at yo own risk!

TW: talks of death, Harry is so d*ddy in this I’m shaking, agegap

yes, daddy, I will 

Read Part 1

~

Sunday morning, as promised, Briar is working the cart on the back course. She includes an additional bottle of Casamigos in her first fill of the day, just in case. To spice up the early morning rounds, she added string lights to her cart. They cast a pink hue over her face as the sun finishes rising.

Briar loves her outfit today. A white, fitted skort with a long-sleeve lavender zip up. She used self-tanner, last night, so her skin is tanned and glowing.

She spots Harry on the practice putting green as she pulls out of the garage. She looks down at her watch. He’s really here at 7:15 AM on a Sunday? Dedication. His long legs are covered by light khaki pants that hug him in the right places, and a navy blue long sleeve.

It seems they’re the only two souls on the course right now. Perfect. She slowly approaches the green, in hopes for redemption. She throws the cart in park and hops out to greet him on the other side.

“Hi, Harry,” Briar says, offering him a shy smile. “Can I grab you anything?”

Harry smiles, putting his putter bag in his bag. He throws both hands in his pockets and begins to walk over to her.

“Morning, Briar. S’early, are they paying you extra to come out here?”

“No, just out here out of the goodness of my heart to serve the dedicated players who are practicing at 7AM on a Sunday,” she teases, finally making direct eye contact with him.

He smirks, placing his hand on the top of the cart and leaning closer to her, admiring the new lights she added.

“Well, I have a new incentive to play the back course more often.”

She inhales sharply. “C-can I get you anything?” she repeats herself, after a beat passes.

“No, thanks, love. I’d better wait for Niall. Plus, it’s a bit early for the hard stuff.”

“I have coffee and orange juice, too!” she squeaks, eyes widening as she recognizes her outburst.

He smiles and says, “Coffee sounds great. Do you have cold brew?”

“Yep! Do you want any cream or sugar?”

“No, thanks. Black is just fine.”

She pours the cold brew into her signature lavender cup. She holds out her cup of colorful bendy straws for him to choose from. He opts for a teal straw with a dolphin charm. She smiles at his choice.

His large hands grasp the cup tightly. She notices the small cross tattoo on his left hand, along with what appears to be an anchor peeking out under his sleeve. During their unfortunate run-in, she didn’t have time to take inventory of every tattoo. She’d jump at the chance to examine each one.

It’s not that she’s intimidated by Harry, but the unreadable way he looks at her makes her feel uneasy. He’s smirking at her, seemingly unbothered by the silence.

“Okay, well, I’ll catch up with you and Niall later, then,” She trails off.

“Looking forward to it. Cheers,” he lifts the cup in her direction, much like their second encounter, and saunters back toward his clubs. He places a $20 bill in her jar on his way.

She pauses for a moment, before jumping back into the cart. As she’s pulling away, she hears the sound of Niall’s boisterous voice calling out for Harry. She smiles and continues on the path.

~

After serving a few groups, Briar is ready for a break a little after 1PM. She pulls the cart over in a lightly wooded area overlooking the 14th hole, not quite hidden from view, but certainly off the beaten path. She sighs, pulling her chips and guacamole out of her lunch box, along with her favorite green iced tea.

She is fussing with her phone with her feet elevated on the cart’s front windscreen when she begins to hear a rustling in the woods behind her. It’s not uncommon to come across foxes, groundhogs, deer or even a possum, but they make her weary nonetheless.

She slowly turns to face the sound before seeing Harry pop out behind a tree.

“Hi, love.”

She shrieks, a delayed reaction, after staring at him for 5 whole seconds.

He chuckles, raising his arms in defense. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t think I’d scare you.”

“How’d you see me, anyway?” She asks, looking around the empty area.

“I came over this way to look for my— Niall — Niall’s ball,” he stumbles, scratching his head at the nape of his neck.

She smiles, knowing he’s full of shit. He just doesn’t want to admit he made a terrible shot.

“Well, hope you don’t have to look too hard.”

He snorts, “Thanks. Hey, while I’m here, can I grab some drinks for us?” He asks, craning his neck to see her snack on the bench of the cart. “Oh shit, are you on a break? I won’t bother you, then.”

“It’s no bother. What would you like?”

“Mich Ultra for Niall, and you can surprise me for mine, thanks,” he smiles sheepishly.

He smiles as she pours his usual Casamigos on the rocks with a lime. Maybe one day she’ll give him a splash of grapefruit or pineapple juice to mix it up.

“S’no problem. Have a good rest of your round,” she smiles.

“Thanks, Birdie, I’ll need all the luck I can get,” he says, placing a $50 bill in her tip jar before walking away with the drinks.

She calls after him, a bit stunned, “Birdie?”

“Yeah, been getting a lot of birdies since I’ve been seeing you out here. You’re my good luck charm. Should’ve started playing the back course ages ago.”

She smiles softly, staring down at her shoes as he walks off. The twisting feeling in her stomach from the pet name makes her dizzy. She sits down to finish her snack and scroll Instagram for a few more minutes before continuing on her way.

Harry finally bought drinks from her, instead of Niall! She drums her knuckles on the steering wheel and sets off towards the clubhouse. She’s grateful he chose not to bring up the run-in after the steam room. Based on their most recent interactions, she’s ready to put that behind her.

She sees Cam on the side of the garage, hitting her vape before shoving it in her pocket.

“Don’t you dare tell Patrick you saw me doing that,” she threatens.

“What do I care? I told him when I started he can’t use me as a spy,” Briar reasons. “Doesn’t everyone in the service industry smoke anyway?”

“Yeah, but there is no three strike rule at Wynnewood. One time and you’re done. Even if you’re seen overly fraternizing with a member, you’re out of here.”

Briar inhales, “Oh, really? Does that happen a lot?”

“I’d say once a summer there is some sort of inappropriate hook-up. Just hasn’t happened yet,” Cam smirks.

Briar nods, staring off toward the restaurant.

“Hey, let me know if you want to grab an early dinner with me after your shift. Dominic promised me a free meal because I’m working a double on Father’s Day.”

“Oh, nice. Yeah, I’ll join,” she smiles, wondering if she’ll cross paths with Harry as they’re finishing their round.

~

The course emptied out significantly by 3PM, so Dominic let Briar off early. She decides to use the extra time to shower and bask in the club’s deluxe amenities. She changes into an outfit she keeps in the back of her Jeep, a pair of white linen pants and a cream, fitted tank top. She ties a cashmere sweater over her shoulders to get the country club look. It’s conservative enough, but walks the line of the dress code.

Her hair is perfectly fluffy after using the Dyson Airwrap, the $600 hair tool that lives freely in the women’s locker room. She touched up her make up, adjusting it slightly now that she’s in front of members at the club.

She turns town the hallway, close proximity to her run-in with Harry, where she sees her uncle chatting with another man. He pats Patrick on the back and continues toward the locker room.

Patrick smiles, placing a hand on her shoulder blade, “Hey, Briar bear! How was your day?”

“Good, started off busy and tapered off, I think the hot weather has people…” she trails off as Harry comes into view, his face stoic as he sees her in close proximity to Patrick.

“Hey there,” Patrick says to Harry.

Harry looks Patrick up and down before giving him a slight nod, “Hello.”

Unable to sit through an awkward silence, Briar interjects, “This is Harry, ‘ve been serving him over the last few weeks on the course. Harry, this is my Uncle Patrick. He’s the golf pro here, actually.”

A look washes over Harry’s face. Is it relief?

“Ah, how’re you doing, mate?” he says, shaking Patrick’s hand. “My buddy Niall swears by your techniques. Maybe you should tone it down. He’s getting closer to beating me everyday,” Harry laughs.

“Yes, Niall! Nice guy. His form has come a long way,” he smiles, looking back at Briar. “I hope you’ve been taking care of my niece out there.”

“Of course. We’ve been calling her our beer angel,” Harry says.

“I’ve been told she’s pretty persuasive. Maybe it’s the generous portions,” he cracks a smile, tousling her hair a bit. “She’s a great addition to the course. She even helped me make a list of members who haven’t taken a session with me. I think you might be one of them.”

Briar’s cheeks heat up. Ugh! Harry is going to find out that’s how she got his name to look him up online. Patrick has a way of embarrassing her without even realizing.

“Hey, speaking of, why don’t you set a time up with me sometime this summer. You probably don’t need it, but you never know, you could always learn something.”

“That sounds great, Patrick, thanks. Well, I’ve got to meet a few people for an early dinner, so I’ll see you both some other time,” Harry smiles softly, gazing at her a beat longer than at Patrick.

“Bye, Harry. Nice to meet you,” Patrick says, oblivious to the burning tension between the two.

Patrick and Briar part ways for a lesson he’s late for. Patrick teaches school aged girls golf every Sunday evening to encourage more of them to get out on the course.

She continues on to the main dining room, poking her head in the door to say hello to the evening kitchen staff. She spots Cam at a table in the corner, perched on one of the comfy leather chairs.

“I love this table, you can people watch for hours. Sometimes I like to narrate what I see,” Cam laughs, drawing Briar’s attention to where she’s pointing.

“There, that lady is like, ‘ugh, I had to take out the Benz instead of the Rolls this afternoon. Can you even believe it?’” Cam says in her most dramatic old lady voice.

“And look, there’s Harry and Niall, I bet they’re planning their weekend hook-ups, like ‘mate, she’s a rocket, she’s totally in t’me’,” She says, in the worst Irish accent Briar has ever heard.

Harry and Niall are leaning against the bar, sipping on their drinks, listening to another man tell an animated story. Harry’s eyes can’t help but gaze in Cam and Briar’s direction.

Briar bursts out laughing, “That was supposed to be Niall?”

“I never said my narrations were good. We can’t all be Snoop Dogg watching Planet Earth.”

“What’s their story, anyway? Are they both single? I’m pretty sure they’re in their 40’s,” Briar asks.

“Mmm, yeah, I think they’re just forever bachelors. I’ve never seen them eat here with women, or have a ring on that finger, for that matter. But, I really don’t know for sure.”

The girls order delicious meals and sip on their cocktails. They’re about to wrap up when their waiter, Isaiah, brings over a bottle of Dom Perignon. Cam’s eyes bug out of her head.

“Zay, what’s this for?”

“Not sure, that member over there, the guy with the brown curly hair, sent it over. If you guys don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Isaiah tries.

“Mmmm, no, don’t think so. We’ll take it. Thanks, Zay,” Cam smiles devilishly. Isaiah pops the cork, pouring two glasses before walking off, pissed he can’t drink Dom P on the clock.

Throughout the interaction, Harry has been staring at their table, waiting for Briar to look over at him. She looks up and smiles shyly. He smirks, raising his glass to her, to which she mirrors his action. Their unspoken sign of gratitude to one another.

“So, when are you gonna hook up with him?” Cam asks, bluntly.

Briar’s eyes bug out, nearly spitting out the champagne, “Huh?”

“Why are you so shocked? Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like a sure thing,” Cam says plainly.

“I-I thought you said I can get fired for that,” Briar questions.

“Yeah, if you get caught. Just don’t get caught.”

Don’t get caught. Sure.

Secret romances have always been her favorite kind of books. The exhilarating feeling of almost being caught, becoming the talk of the town as the news spreads like wildfire.

She’s all in; though, she questions the implication of being Patrick’s niece. The last thing she wants to do is embarrass him. She put him and her Aunt Meredith through the wringer as a teenager. She’s not looking to repeat her high school and early college antics.

She nods, absently.

Cam and Briar finish up their dessert and champagne, get their employee discounts and pay, before heading off for the night. Briar is exhausted, ready to crawl into bed after showering and taking Gus out for a walk.

As Briar walks to her Jeep, she sees the valet boys pull a black Range Rover out front. She pauses for a moment, waiting to see who’s getting in.

Harry pushes open the heavy oak doors of Wynnewood, alone, taking large strides to get in the driver’s seat of the car. He looks around, spotting Briar, and extends a wave, with a smirk, sending that funny feeling straight to her gut.

She is so fucked.

~

Her break on Monday afternoon is a longer one. The course is empty, only seeing a few golfers here and there. She pulls into the same wooded area where Harry scared the daylights out of her the week prior.

She closes her eyes, throwing her sunglasses over to face to try and make it look like she’s not taking a nap on the clock. She just barely dozes off when she sees someone approaching. Harry.

“Hey, Birdie,” he says, smirking. “Taking a little cat nap on the job?”

“Fishing your ball out of the woods again?” She strikes back. He busts out laughing, the first genuine laugh she’s heard.

He likes that she has some bite to her, and that she can make him laugh. A real laugh. Not the kind he forces out when he’s looking to get his dick wet. He helps himself to a water bottle in the cooler, not wanting to make her get up for him.

“Slide over,” he says, expecting her to make some room on the bench for him. She gawks at him for a moment to analyze his face, but obeys. He plops down, placing an arm behind her on the edge of the backrest.

Briar is frozen in place before asking, “Where’s Niall?”

“I’m not always with him. Even I need a break from him sometimes,” he says, nonchalantly. “Came by myself for some peace and quiet. It’s nice to play with headphones in and listen to a podcast.”

“I can see that. Big personality,” she says, not forgetting about the arm that’s snaked around her shoulders. “What’re you listening to?”

“A finance podcast. Kind of boring, but lately I’ve been too busy to read the news.”

“Yeah, real busy. S’that why you’re out here on a Monday at 11AM?” she says, looking up at him to see his reaction. When meeting new people, she likes to test the waters a bit, making sure their sense of humor syncs up.

He chuckles lowly, sucking his bottom lip in his mouth, shaking his head. “Most of the time I’m here, it’s for business,” he increases the pressure where their bodies are touching. “This trip is for pleasure.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his face mere inches from her. His eyes are burning holes into the side of her head.

He closes the gap when she finally looks over at him, linking their lips together. His arm moves from the back rest to wrap around her lower back, gently laying his finger tips there. The kiss starts out innocently enough, before Briar pulls away, frantically looking around.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” he assures her. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re okay.”

They resume their kiss, Briar now twisted to face him fully. She can taste the gum he must’ve recently chewed. This fucker came to find her for one thing only, she thinks. She doesn’t mind, though.

His right hand reaches down to pet at the soft skin of her outer thigh, now exposed from her skort riding up. She parts her lips to make room for his tongue that begins to shyly explore her mouth. The same hand begins to migrate toward her ass, so she readjusts to where she is perched on the bench in a kneeling position, now nearly eye height with Harry.

She finally reaches her hands out to touch him; her left hand resting on his right pec, and right hand around the nape of his neck. She pulls away, staring straight into his emerald eyes. Her self control is washing away, but she pulls herself together.

“‘M not supposed to have anyone in the cart with me,” she says, doe eyes wide, darting back and forth to read his face.

He busts out another genuine laugh while pinching her thigh, “Is that what you’re thinking about, Birdie?”

She sits back down and her hands go to the steering wheel. “Well, I’m thinking about other things, too, like how you’re a member and I’m an employee.”

He hums, “I think it’s just a divine intervention. Us, being here at this course together as frequently as we are. I’m a member at quite a few places, but this one seems to draw me in more than the others recently.”

Divine intervention? She ponders this, but says nothing. How many country club fees can this guy afford?

“I should probably go,” he says, standing up and stretching after being hunched over in the cart. Her heart sinks at this, but she doesn’t let it show on her face.

“Don’t worry, Birdie, I’ll come back for you,” he says, grabbing her chin like he did in the hallway, placing one last chaste kiss on her lips. “What time does your shift end?”

“Around 3:30.”

“Excellent. Stick around, maybe we can go somewhere this afternoon. I’ll drive us.”

“O-okay. That sounds good.”

“Bye, Birdie,” he says, walking down the path toward the green.

She takes a deep breath to try and regulate her heart beat. It’s already 2:30, so she races back to the clubhouse to try and beg Dominic to let her go early. He gives in, but only if she promises to be the number caller at the next member bingo night.

“Yeah, yeah, sure! Thanks, Dom,” she squeals as she runs off toward the locker room. She spends the extra time preparing for her afternoon with Harry. Her outfit is casual; a white, nearly sheer button down top with light-wash jeans and sandals.

She heads out to her Jeep at 3:37PM. Not too early, not too late. Harry’s car is once again pulled up to the valet stand out front. She watches him head down the stairs, confused, looking around to find where she is.

He changed into his street clothes as well; a pair of cream trousers, white under shirt and a patterned button down. She takes notice of his Vans; an interesting choice for a 40 year old, she supposes.

She waves him over. He acknowledges her and jumps in the car to pull into the spot adjacent to hers. He rolls down the window, perplexed, but motions for her to get in. She rounds the side of the vehicle and steps in.

“I didn’t want anyone to see us,” she says, sheepishly. He understands.

“That’s okay, Birdie. Here, while I drive, go ahead and put your number in my phone. I realized I didn’t grab it when I was looking for you out front.”

Her stomach twists as he hands it to her. She can see his phone is playing Beast of Burden on the Range Rover’s stereo. She carefully types in the numbers, and makes her contact name a simple “🐥” on the off chance someone from the club were to see his phone. And because his nickname for her is fucking adorable.

“I made my name the chick emoji,” she smiles.

“I like that. Thank you. Did you text yourself so you have mine?” he asks.

“Yes. I made yours the fox emoji,” she laughs.

“What? Why?” he questions, alternating looking over at her and the road.

“When you scared me by the woods, I thought it was a fox rustling through the bushes,” she grins. He squawks out a laugh.

“A birdie and a fox. I like it.”

She glances out the window, unsure where he is taking her.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“I thought we could go get drinks and take a stroll through the park. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, bobbing her head to the Eagles song he has on.

~

Harry is extremely easy to talk to. They got their drinks, paid for by Harry, and walked over to the public garden. Summer is just around the corner, so the lawn is busy with people and the flowers are blooming.

Briar sips on her iced green tea, while Harry nurses a black cold brew. His other hand is in his pocket, but she wouldn’t be mad if he held hers. She’s glad they didn’t go for alcoholic drinks; she finds herself to be less talkative and more anxious if she drinks before a date.

If that’s what they’re calling it.

They walk the perimeter of the garden, talking about everything and nothing, stopping only to look at the ducks swimming and eating grapes thrown by energetic toddlers. Harry learns Briar is a Libra, graduated with honors from Boston College, and one day wants to own an animal sanctuary.

He shares with her his funny college stories, and adventures with Niall since they first became pals in college. He recounts their trip through Indonesia, where they got such bad food poisoning from the street food, they could barely lift their heads to look outside. Only to have the same exact thing happen the following week in Thailand.

As the conversation lulls, Harry’s gaze extends towards a bench off in the distance, tucked away in an alcove of willow trees and flower bushes.

They instinctively walk over in that direction. Briar sits, followed by Harry. Their bodies are pressed together again.

“I keep thinking about earlier today,” he says, fiddling with his hands. She smiles, looking over at him.

“Me too. I wouldn’t mind repeating it.”

“Yeah?” he says, smiling and inching closer to her.

“Yeah.”

Briar closes the gap this time, eagerly kissing into his mouth. Her hand comes up to cup his face. Harry deepens the kiss, using his tongue to explore every inch of her mouth. He eases up, opting to suck on her lower lip. They naturally break apart, her lower lip now red and plump.

“How far do you live from here?”

Harry is taken back by her forwardness. He’s picked up on her blunt nature, but she continues to keep him on his toes. His stomach twists in indecision, not wanting to move too quickly with her. She is, after all, a delicate little bird.

He’s quiet for a beat, surveying the look on her face, “Not far. Why? What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, you said you’re amazing at Scrabble. Let’s see you put some money where your mouth is.”

He smiles brightly, shocked at her answer. “Fine, you’re on. Don’t go crying when my stellar vocabulary comes out.”

He grabs her hand and guides her to stand up from the bench. They follow the path the way they came, passing an ice cream truck.

“Ooh! Do you want to split a cone?” she looks up at him, eyes the size of saucers.

“I’d love to. Which flavor?”

“Mint chocolate chip? Do you like that kind?”

“It’s m’favorite, actually,” he smirks at her, pulling out his wallet to give the worker a $10. He tells her to keep the change as she hands him the small sugar cone.

“We can stay here and eat. I’d hate to get it inside your car,” she says, staring at the black SUV across the street.

She’s sweet, thoughtful, and a little spicy. His favorite combination. He watches as she takes two delicate, kitten-like licks and extending the cone in his direction. He leans in to take his first bite, only for her to shove the cone in his face, causing both of them to erupt in giggles. She blots the napkin on his cheek to remove the mess.

“Fine, if we’re playing like that, don’t mind if I do,” Harry says, taking a large bite of the ice cream and cone, causing her to squeal.

“No! The cone is the best part!” Briar laughs, trying to steal what she can get.

They finish their cone, using Briar’s wet wipes from her bag to clean their hands and faces. Harry grabs her hand once more, guiding them to the car. Briar opts to link their pinkies together as they walk. Harry thinks it’s cute.

Their pinkies are locked for the duration of the drive, Harry dropping them only once to switch gears. They pull up to his place, a beautiful brownstone, clearly renovated in the last few years. His garage door opens as they get closer.

Briar waits for his lead, to which he pads around the front of the car to open her door. He leads her through the door to his mudroom, where he removes his shoes and socks. She follows suit, placing her bag on a hook by the door.

His decor is eclectic; warm, dark wood tones meeting bold colors, where appropriate. His walls are anything but bare; classic rock posters and delicate pieces of art litter every inch.

They arrive in his kitchen; a wide open space with updated appliances and gorgeous quartz stone countertops. His counters are neat, but certainly reflect a man lives there alone; various protein powders and supplements, along with raw fruits and even some tins of baked goods scattered around.

His attention is drawn to the room on the other side of the counter, where he hangs out the most. A TV hangs above the grand soapstone fireplace, where a large, L-shaped sofa resides.

“Head in there, I’ll grab us some water and grab the game.”

She smiles. While she’s happy to play Scrabble with Harry, she wouldn’t have minded he act on the double meaning of her self-invitation to his house. She’ll take what she can get.

Her eyes are drawn to his bookcase, filled with classics, new releases, and everything in between. She even spots Beach Read by Emily Henry. She chuckles to herself. She notices the abundance of Bukowski novels as Harry enters.

“Ya know, it’s a red flag when a guy is reading Bukowski,” Briar teases, running her fingers along the spine of one of the books, aware of Bukowski’s underlying theme of misogyny throughout his works.

“I’ve heard that. I think it matters more what you do with the topics he writes about, than the topics themselves. I read what he says, and go, ‘welp, won’t be doing that,’” he laughs.

He places the board game box down on the expansive coffee table. He doesn’t immediately open the box, in case Briar has other plans. She moves from the bookcase around the coffee table to sit on the sofa a respectable distance from Harry.

“How long have you lived here?” she asks, making note of the tall ceilings.

“5 years. I bought it in dilapidated shape and fully renovated it. The renovations took around 3 years. I lived with my friend, Ben, and his wife while it was being done. They had a nice attic apartment set up for me,” he recalls, smiling to himself.

“That’s really cool. What was your favorite part? The planning, the build, or the designing?”

“A little bit of everything. I was hellbent on keeping the historical integrity of the place, but it really only came to life when the finishing details came in. I’m really proud of the art pieces and trinkets I’ve picked up over the years, so I wanted everything to work well together.”

She hums at his thoughtful answer. “I don’t actually want to play Scrabble, you know.”

He smiles, looking directly at her, “I was hoping you’d say that, but I wanted to be a gentleman.”

She appreciates his honesty, and moves closer on the large sofa. Harry leans in again, this time, nudging her to sit in his lap. She clamors on, straddling over his legs. Their kiss deepens as she begins to strategically move her hips over his crotch.

He speaks between the feverish kisses, “I only wanna do what you're,” he kisses again, “—comfortable with, Briar.”

She pauses when she hears him say her name. She’s gotten used to the pet name, so it catches her off guard. “I appreciate that, but I’m good for anything, Harry.”

A groan catches in his throat. One day, down the line, she’ll wish she never said that. But today, he’s spoiling her in gentle kisses and slow movements. Before he even realizes, she peels herself off of him, kneeling in front of him on the ground and making a move toward his belt buckle. A few of the pillows slid off the sofa with her, creating a soft nest on the floor. He inhales sharply, recognizing there is no turning back in this fling with the beverage cart girl at his country club.

He pets at her hair, collecting the stray strands that lay on her face. She peers up at him, almost asking for permission. He runs his thumb along her cheek, encouraging her to keep going. In a perfect world, he’d be the one to pleasure her first, but there will always be time for that, he supposes.

She releases the buckle while unbuttoning his trousers, revealing his black Calvin Klein briefs. Briar runs her index finger along the length outlined by his underwear. He shudders, holding back a whine.

Briar releases him from the confines, preparing herself to come face to face with his size. She’s not the most sexually promiscuous girl, but she’s not a prude, either. His size intimidates her, she has to admit. Her two previous boyfriends’ dicks paled in comparison to Harry’s. But, she’s proud of her “can-do” attitude, so she continues on.

Briar wraps her small hand around him, eliciting the quietest moan from Harry, who’s patiently watching her from above. She peers back up at him before licking one cohesive stripe from the base to his tip, before swirling her tongue around the very top. She repeats the movement two more times before enveloping him in her mouth.

She nearly moans at the taste of him, plus the delicious girth stuffing her mouth to the brim. Her first move to fit more of him in her throat forces her to breathe through her nose and settle down a bit.

“Taking me so well, Birdie,” he grunts, laying his head back. “So fucking good.”

He can sense her lack of oxygen, so he taps her on the cheek to remind her to breathe. She peeks up at him, a lazy smile on his face. After a few more minutes, he grunts out, “Okay, baby, that’s enough.”

She pulls off of him with a pop, and one more tug for good measure. She stands, placing her hands on his knees, leaning in to kiss him again. He welcomes it, deepening the kiss once more. She loves when men kiss her after oral; she can’t say so about her past boyfriends.

He tucks himself back in his underwear, making her cock her head at him. He stands, pants still unbuckled, grabbing her hand to lock pinkies, assuming he’s leading her to his bedroom. Her suspicions are correct as they climb the staircase in the main entrance, yet another grandiose and impeccably designed room.

His room is the last in the dimly lit hall. She makes note of the hallway’s gallery wall filled with photos of Harry from all years of his life, and a few landscapes she assumes he took himself. She makes a note to ask him about them later.

He opens the door, revealing a cozy, neat bedroom. She can clearly see a balcony straight ahead that overlooks his small garden area out back. He pulls her to stand at the foot of the bed, kissing her.

He reaches to pull his shirt off, tugging it off by the neckline, revealing the tattoos she got a glimpse of at the club.

“Wow, I didn’t get to take a close look at your tattoos last time,” she jokes, running her hands along the mermaid on his forearm.

“You were looking, don’t lie to me,” he teases, placing his tongue in his cheek. He gently reaches out to remove her shirt, to which she complies, pulling it off, leaving her in her bra and trousers.

Harry can’t choose where to look first, her supple breasts, or her toned midsection. He takes a deep breath, before reaching for the button of her pants. She stands, like putty in his hands, allowing him to take control.

When she’s in just her bra and thong, he places his knee in between her legs, nudging her to sit on the bed and lay back. She reaches back to remove her bra, sending her breasts pouring out. Harry has to hold himself back from ogling her.

“So fucking hot. From the moment I saw you,” Harry says, adjusting his pants.

She slides back, awkwardly, until her head is closer to the headboard. He follows, elevating himself by his left arm in a plank position. He drops his knees to either side of her. He shuffles backward so his face is directly above her center. He looks down like a dog eyeing a bone, and gently lowers his face to kiss her on the outside of her underwear.

He plants her feet on the bed and pulls the fabric aside, revealing her glistening core, eyeing it hungrily. He looks back up at her, to which she smiles gently at him, a blissful look on her face. He takes a long lick, from bottom to top, receiving a whine from Briar in response. Her taste is already driving him wild.

She begins to squirm, to which he locks his bicep around her leg to keep her still. He sticks his tongue out, making contact with her clit, while using his other hand to pet her entrance. He looks up, the bottom half of his face buried in her, to see her head thrown back as she holds up her upper body on her elbows.

He inserts his middle finger into her, making her pant and move her leg.

“Relax, Birdie,” Harry says gently, bringing her mind back to him. He circles his tongue around her clit, seeing which side is more sensitive. Her response when he hit her left side tells him his answer. He continues his blunt attack as he feels her tighten around his fingers. He’s since added a second and third digit, lightly curling his finger tips to pet her G-spot.

“C’mon, Birdie, get there,” he encourages, his husky voice pushing her closer to the edge, his breath on her folds making her whine. One more thrust of his fingers has her shivering, turning the build up of pressure in her pelvis into a wave of pleasure. He rides her through it, slowing down his tongue on her clit.

Her facial expression is unreadable. She lowers her head back down to the bed, abruptly pulling her elbows out from under her so she collapses the rest of the way down. He uses this time to readjust himself in his briefs.

“Wow,” she breathes, wiping a little bit of sweat from her forehead. They both stay exactly where they are, catching their breaths, before Harry joins her on the upper portion of the mattress.

He’s laying on his side, hand under his head, creating a triangle with his arm, and gently reaches out to pet her side.

“You good? Do you want to go back downstairs?” He questions, taking note of her current state.

“What? You didn’t come…” she trails off, eyeing his crotch. He looks uncomfortable.

“Hey, it’s okay, I wanted to take care of you,” he assures. She stares at him before kissing him hard, tasting herself on his tongue. He takes that as her answer. Harry maneuvers so he’s above her once more, this time pulling her underwear down her legs, and taking off his own pants and briefs. While she gets comfy, he unwraps and rolls a condom down his cock.

He takes her legs and throws one over his shoulder, placing his hand next to her head. He guides his length so its aligned perfectly with her center. He pushes the bulbous head past the ring of muscle, exhaling as he does so.

“Oh, baby,” he grits out, trying to hold back from vigorously thrusting into her. He reaches out to grab her boob, flicking his thumb over her nipple. She shivers, squeaking out a sensual moan.

“Feels so good, Harry. Start moving please…” she begs, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure.

He completes a full thrust, staring at her core devouring him. He could watch this all day.  He thrusts quickly, but not hard, hoping to get her to cum one more time. He takes more shallow thrusts before pinching her clit with his thumb and index finger. He can feel her clench around him, making that same blissed out face like the last time.

“Wish you could see how well you take me, sweet girl,” he coos, increasing the pressure.

She grabs his bicep, “There, right there, Harry, ah!” as she rolls into another orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praises, making her absolutely melt below him. He’s thankful it came quick, as he feels himself hit a wall.

He takes one last, long thrust before pouring into the condom. They’re still for a moment as Harry drops down to his forearm, petting the hair out of her face. He gently pulls out, rolling over to stand up and discard the rubber.

By the time he turns around, she is under his top sheet to give a little modesty, leaning against the headboard. He joins her, loosely covering his lower half with the sheet. He reaches out to pet her inner thigh, a touch she appreciates.

“That was…Something,” he laughs, looking over at her. “You’re incredible.”

“Thanks,” she says shyly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Harry reaches for his phone on the side table. It’s already well past 9PM. His hand extends to gently tap her thigh under the covers.

“I’d love to have you stay, but I totally understand if you’d rather go home,” Harry says with kind eyes.

“Thanks, yeah, I actually have to get home for my dog. It’s been a long day for him.”

“You didn’t mention a dog! I love dogs,” Harry smiles as she shows him her phone’s lock screen of Gus with his tongue sticking out. “He’s gorgeous.”

“I’ll drive you back to Wynnewood to get your car,” Harry offers, standing to throw his clothes back on.

“That’d be great. Thanks,” Briar responds, rising to go into the attached ensuite. For other hookups, she’d ask to use the bathroom. Something about her interactions with Harry feel natural, putting her at ease.

She can hear him say he’ll wait for her downstairs as she’s finishing up washing her hands. She does her due-diligence, checking the bathroom for signs of another woman; a razor, loofah, sweet smelling body wash. The coast seems clear.

Briar takes her time walking down that same hallway to admire the dozens of photos on the wall. She sees one of Harry with two women, one she assumes to be his sister, and the other, his mom. They’re both gorgeous, like him.

She pads down the stairs to find him at his kitchen island. He smiles, looking up from his phone.

“Ready to go, Birdie?”

“Yeah, I’ll follow you out.”

~

When they arrive at the club, it’s packed with the late night crowd. It’s never not a party at Wynnewood. Harry pulls the car into the same spot, adjacent to her Jeep. She lingers before getting out.

“I had a really nice time with you, Harry,” she smiles shyly.

“Me, too. I’d love to take you out again, or even just hang at mine,” he says earnestly, reaching to grab her hand. “I can give you a call tomorrow to plan something.”

She almost laughs, forgetting Harry is older. Normally, she’d wait for a Snapchat from a hook up, asking, ‘WYD?’

“Sounds good,” she says, leaning in for a quick peck. He gladly obliges. She reaches for the handle, opening the door to the Range Rover. There’s no one outside of the club, except for the valet boys.

“Bye, Birdie,” he says, smiling.

“Bye, Harry.”

She shuts the door and Harry smiles as he watches her unlock and get into her Jeep. He waits until she starts the car successfully. She gives him a cute little wave and carefully pulls forward. He follows her out of the parking lot, only parting to go in their respective directions toward home.

In the distance, a pair of watchful eyes see them leave the parking lot of Wynnewood, making note of the interesting pair.

~

When Harry wakes up the next morning, replaying yesterday’s events in his head, he can barely wipe the smile from his face. He hasn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. His nights have been filled with hook-ups with housewives in his pilates classes, and PTA moms from his niece’s school. He’s never been one to enjoy random hook-ups, but the last few years have brought significant amounts of stress his way.

Briar is special; full of charm, witty come backs, and all-around gorgeous. He thinks about the first moment he saw her at Wynnewood. Niall finally convinced him to return to the club after several years of bouncing around other courses in the area.

She was smiling brightly, washing the golf carts down with her co-workers. She has a way of bringing fun to even the most mundane tasks. Her golf outfit accentuated her features, matching his years’ long fantasy of hooking up with a girl that golfs. Whether she golfs or not, he’s unsure, but she looks damn cute in everything she wears.

He sends Briar a good morning text before jumping in the shower. She’s already at Wynnewood, filling him in on the drama he’s missing. The members should be featured on a Bravo show; the goings on are pure reality television material.

He spends extra time in the shower, easing his achey muscles. He’s played more rounds of golf in the last month than he has in his whole life, just to increase his chances of interacting with Briar. He feels a tiny, thumb-shaped bruise forming on his bicep, presumably from Briar’s grasp. He smiles.

His work days have been light recently, opting to delegate instead of jumping on the front lines of investing and trading. He’s been a hedge fund manager for a little over ten years, putting in the work to set him up for success for life. Many of his mentors and predecessors retired early, even younger than Harry, but he’s not quite ready to throw in the towel.

He responds to a few emails on his phone before entering his home office. Niall is coming over so they can strategize before a meeting. Their hedge fund used to have an office, but they opted to sell to give their employees the freedom to travel and work from where they please.

He hears Niall come in through the garage and make his way down the hall to Harry’s office. Harry is sat in his leather office chair and gives him a simple nod when he comes in.

“What’d you get up to yesterday?” Niall asks, plopping down in a seat adjacent to Harry’s. Niall and Harry spend an ungodly amount of time together, so he’s not surprised Niall asks this.

Harry hesitates, wondering how much he should share, or if Niall had somehow seen him and Briar yesterday.

“Um, not much, went to Wynnewood for a practice round in the morning, and then some random things in the afternoon,” Harry lies.

“Went to Wynnewood to see your girl Briar?” Niall smirks, crossing his legs at his ankles.

Harry runs his tongue along his teeth, holding back a smile, “Yes, I saw her there. She got me a nice drink and a snack.”

“Sure, buddy,” Niall laughs, pulling out his laptop and a pair of reading glasses.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps, furrowing his brow.

“You’re a little obsessed with her, is all. Ever since I got you back to Wynnewood, you’ve gone there hoping you run into her. Why do you think I requested her as our server when we met with Hassan and Jason?”

“I just thought you liked her. She’s a nice girl,” Harry huffs.

“She is a nice girl. If you like her, you should do something about it,” Niall reasons, looking at Harry directly.

“Fine. I took her out yesterday, and we came back here and we fucked.”

Niall’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open at Harry’s confession. He juts his lips out and nods his head as to say, ‘right on’.

“Do you like her?”

“What, Niall? Of course I do. I hope she wants to go out with me again. We’ve already been texting today.”

“Good shit,” Niall seemingly moves on, ready to talk business.

Harry laughs at Niall’s ability to switch gears completely and focus on work. Harry pulls up his slide deck and begins to review his notes from his last meeting.

~

Since her afternoon with Harry, Briar has been on cloud 9. She’s happy she didn’t shy away from Harry’s advances in fear of getting fired.

She woke up early to take Gus on a walk, and to feel out the slight soreness she has between her legs. It stings a bit, but is a nice reminder of Harry. She arrives at Wynnewood at a quarter to 7, ready to conquer the day.

She smiles at Harry’s good morning text, opting to tell him about the gossip she overheard as she passed the tennis courts. The tennis players at the club are way more wild than the golfers.

She heads inside to clock in at the register at the bar, where she finds Cam setting up for the day.

“Hey, B!” she yells.

“Hey, Cam,” Briar smiles, punching in her number. She walks around to lean on the bar.

“Harry and I fucked,” Briar whispers.

Cam’s head whips around, “Holy shit! When? Where?”

“Yesterday, at his place. He picked me up after my shift and we went for a walk at the public garden. Then I told him we should play Scrabble to invite myself over,” she snorts. “He actually got the game out in case I was being serious.”

“Good thing he’s not stupid. Next time you can ‘Netflix and Chill’ him.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to do that,” she giggles. She waves goodbye to Cam before heading back out to load up her cart. She adds another golf pun to her tip jar:

What did the sign above the golf club bar say?

“Don’t drink and drive. Don’t even putt.”

She chuckles to herself, turning on her string lights. She hopes Harry will swing by today. They’ve been texting lightly, but she doesn’t want to come off as clingy. Maybe she’ll call him on her break.

The day goes by as usual, returning to the clubhouse to stock up a few times. When she’s ready for a snack and some time in the shade, she pulls up to the familiar wooded area on near the 14th hole; her and Harry’s spot.

Briar looks around to make sure no one is nearby. She pulls out her phone and scrolls her contact list to find her fox.

Harry answers on the second ring, “Hi, Birdie, how’s your day? I thought I was supposed to call you?”

“Hi, Harry, it’s good. Well, you should assume by now that I’m not the type of girl to wait by the phone,” she teases.

“Silly me, I should have known. My day’s been good; reviewing a few possible investments and lots of emails. Niall just left my place, actually. Since we don’t have an official office anymore, he comes here sometimes.”

Briar hums, smiling to herself. She could listen to him tell stories all day.

“Listen, uh…” he trails off. Is he trying to push her off the phone? He was the one that wanted to follow up with her.

“Niall was kind of grilling me about where I was yesterday. I think he noticed I was a little hard to reach. So, I kind of ‘fessed up. I didn’t share anything in detail. I’m not that kind of guy,” he says, exasperated, not wanting her to think he’s a scumbag.

“Harry, Harry, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I told Cam, so, I think we’re even.”

He lets out a breath, relieved. “Okay, good. Again, sorry it happened like that.”

“It’s all good. What are you doing the rest of the day?” she asks, tapping the steering wheel of her cart.

“Umm, no plans as of yet, but, I’m not against making some — with you, if that wasn’t clear,” he stumbles. She giggles, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I can come over? I can grab us dinner from somewhere, or bring something home from the club. I’ll probably be here later than usual, there’s some charity event that starts soon.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. You can schmooze the chef into cooking up something good, I’m sure.”

“Yes, Chef Lambo! He’s the G.O.A.T,” Briar squeals.

It takes Harry a split second to decipher what she just said. Greatest of All Time. Hm, one of those generational differences. He laughs, “Alright, Birdie, that sounds good. Well, I’ll let you get to it. I hope the golfers are treating you nicely.”

“Thanks, Harry, I’ll talk to you later.”

They hang up, and Briar continues on her route. The butterflies in her stomach stay with her all the way to the clubhouse. When her shift ends, she heads straight for the kitchen to find Lambo.

“Hi, Lambo,” Briar says, knocking on the frame of his open office door. “Have a sec?”

“Hi, Briar Baby! Of course I have a second,” he grins, inviting her in. Lambo is the nicest human she’s ever met. He went to culinary school after growing up homeless. Everything he has is through incredibly hard work. She admires him for that.

“Think you can whip up something good for me and…a friend…to eat tonight?” she doesn’t make eye contact with him when she says ‘friend’.

“Of course, baby. What are you in the mood for? Pasta? Steak? Is it a male ‘friend’?” he says, putting air quotes around friend.

Her cheeks heat up, knowing he’s figured her out. She nods.

“Well, I’ll think of some date night food while you go get changed. Come back in a half an hour and I’ll have it ready.”

“Thanks, Lambo, I owe you one.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you in a bit.”

She took her time getting ready in the locker room. She changed into a pair of leggings and threw on a Nike pullover. Nice and casual. When Briar returns to the kitchen, she sees her food packed up perfectly, with a note from Lambo:

Steak frites with broccoli rabe and scalloped potatoes. I included a brownie for dessert :-)

Enjoy! Be safe.

-Lambo

She smiles. She’ll bring him an iced coffee the next time they work together. She grabs the bag and exits through the back kitchen door that leads straight to the employee parking lot.

She pulls up to Harry’s house, parks, and retrieves the food from her passenger’s side. As she heads toward the front door, she hears a voice from his neighbor’s side of the fence. She sees a middle-aged woman watering plants on her front porch.

“Leave the food on the porch, hun! Read his sign about deliveries,” she says, rolling her eyes. Briar’s attention moves to the note on the door, scribbled in Harry’s writing.

Please leave all packages on the table to the left. TPWK.

She looks to the left to see a small glass table, with a basket full of snacks and drinks and another note, thanking the drivers. In fear of Harry’s neighbor calling the cops for lingering too long, she grabs a granola bar and books it back to her car. She calls Harry immediately.

“Hi, Birdie, you on your way here?” he asks, sitting on the foot of his bed, putting on a pair of socks.

“Um, I’m here, but there’s a slight issue. I was walking up to the front door, and your neighbor thought I was a delivery driver,” Briar says, mortified. “She told me to just leave the food.”

Harry starts to hysterically laugh, leaning down to pinch the outer parts of his eyes with his thumb and his pointer finger.

“S’not funny! I was scared she was gonna call the cops if I lingered there. I even followed your instructions and left the food on the little table. These Karens are unbelievable these days.”

“Alright, I’ll come down and get you. Be there in one sec,” he says before clicking end.

He exits his house through the garage, opening the door to meet Briar on his driveway. He looks over to Maureen’s yard, finding it empty. Briar hops out of her Jeep and fast walks over to Harry.

“It’s okay, she went back inside,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. She reciprocates, before walking to his front porch to retrieve the food.

“That’ll be $47.91 plus tip,” she says with a straight face, before busting out into her signature giggle.

He shakes his head, following her into the garage before clicking the overhead door closed.

They eat and enjoy each other’s company. When Harry sees she brought home steak frites, he grabs a full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon from his wine cellar to pair it with. The two of them finish the whole bottle, and retire to his sofa for the evening, a little wine drunk and content.

They chat for a bit longer. He shares more information about his family and why he left the UK for college. She listens attentively, asking questions when necessary.

“What about you, Birdie, what was your life like growing up?”

She freezes. If she didn’t have 2 1/2 glasses of wine in her, she’d shut down any mention of her family.

“Um, well, my Uncle Patrick and Aunt Meredith actually raised me. Patrick is my dad’s brother. He passed away when I was young, like 5 or 6. My mom is still around, but she struggled with an addiction problem after he died. She and my dad knew each other since they were 14 years old, so she just couldn’t handle it.”

Harry instinctively offered a comforting touch on her arm. He let her continue.

“So, when she was struggling, my aunt and uncle got custody of me and my brothers; I have 3 older and 1 younger. But my mom is doing better now. She’s about 4 years clean, and actually just got remarried. He’s a nice guy and I think he’s good for her.”

“Did you still see her when you were growing up?”

“Yeah, it’s not like we were kept from her, but she always came to our house. We were never told of the details of where she lived, worked. Everything was kind of surface level.”

He pulls her in for a side hug, “Thanks for sharing that with me. I’m sure it’s not an easy thing for you to talk about.”

They’re quiet for a moment, her head on his shoulder.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Harry offers. He’s noticed Briar’s eyes gently close throughout the night, signaling her exhaustion. Poor thing. Those long hours at the club are probably taxing.

“Yeah,” she replies simply, nuzzling into his side. “You pick.”

“You want something scary? Or something easy to watch?”

“Easy to watch. I don’t like scary stuff, really.”

Harry puts on ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’ before dimming the lights in the room on his phone.

She gasps, smiling bright, “This is one of my favorites!”

He smiles, “Mine, too.”

~

Briar jerks awake, frantically looking around the room to reorient herself. She remembers she’s at Harry’s and they fell asleep watching a movie. The screen is off, but she can still make out Harry’s sleeping frame from the street lamp out front. He looks like a dad asleep in a recliner, arms spread out, head back and mouth wide open, slightly snoring. She smiles at him fondly.

She pats around the sofa for her phone to check the time. 3:23AM. It’d be weird to leave, right? She thinks to herself. Or is it weirder that she stayed? This is only their second official hangout, but she already feels so comfortable with him.

He must sense she’s awake, because his breathing gets more shallow. His eyes peel open and he sits up, clearing his throat as he looks over at her.

“Briar? Are you okay?” he whispers, voice full of sleep and eyes puffy.

“Yeah, go back to sleep. It’s early. I just woke up and forgot where I was for a few minutes.”

“Well, let’s go upstairs. I’ll have to go to the chiropractor if I sleep like this any longer.”

She laughs. She doesn’t feel the age gap between them often, but when he says things like that, she can’t help but recognize it. They climb the stairs, his knees cracking on the way up.

“Are you comfy in those clothes? Or do you want one of my T-shirts?”

She ponders his question, opting for a shirt. He hands her a Def Leppard T-shirt, and she takes off her bralette before sliding it over her head. Harry is already in his bed, tucked under the covers watching her. She slides her leggings down to the floor and then joins him.

Harry surveys her expression, seeing if she’s sleepy, or full of energy. Before he woke up, he was having a wonderful dream that he’s now dealing with the physical ramifications of. Briar stares back at him, wondering if he’s looking for a hook-up, since they kept it pretty innocent last night.

She reaches out to paw at his waist, feeling his rock-hard crotch. She smirks, knowing she’s right. He inhales sharply, moving his hips towards her. Briar moves her hand past his waist band, dancing her fingers down his length.

Harry moans quietly, closing his eyes at her gentle touch. When he opens his eyes, she’s shuffling down the bed, disappearing under the covers. He feels his briefs sliding down his legs, coming to a stop just under his ass.

He rolls so he’s flat on his back, his knees slightly bent. Harry hears Briar gather spit in her mouth before gently wetting his cock with it. She starts by firmly grasping him at the base, before licking a stripe towards the top. This time, her free hand comes up to fondle his balls.

Harry’s eyes roll back in his head, before releasing a guttural moan. Briar smirks and repeats the movement, before lowering her head to stick them in her mouth one at a time. She pops off each one of them like a cherry, before returning to his cock. She sticks her thumb at his slit, rubbing the pre cum around gently. She envelopes him in her mouth, moaning at the fullness. She bobs her head up and down for a few minutes, before she feels his hand slam down on the bed, begging for mercy.

“Oh my goddd,” he slurs.

Harry runs his fingers through Briar’s soft hair, trying to hold off an orgasm. He can feel his lower region start to bubble, before shooting his cum into her mouth. She moans, collecting the sperm, before sliding her mouth off his cock and giving his tip one last kiss. She swallows, licking her lips while she stares up at him.

He’s bewildered. Perplexed. In awe. His head drops back down on his pillow, waiting for her to join him at his side. Her head pops back out from under the covers, smiling at him. He gives her a peck on her lips.

She rolls on her side and places her hand under her cheek, closing her eyes, “Night, Harry.”

“Huh? Let me get you back!” he pleads, still in shock.

“Nah, it’s good. I’m tired. Are you swinging by the course today?”

He rolls over to look at his phone. 4:39 AM. “I wasn’t going to, but that performance incentivized me,” he smiles, shuffling to make room for her.

She giggles, scooting over to lay her head on his chest.

~

Briar and her spry energy at 7AM makes Harry envious. He slept on the sofa for only a few hours and feels like he got hit by a bus. Oh to be in your 20s.

She’s rustling around in his ensuite, opening each drawer and closing them softly.

“Extra toothbrushes are in the bottom drawer,” He rasps out, trying to block the light from his eyes.

“Got it, thanks!”

She brushes her teeth, checking herself in the mirror. She pads back out to his bed, now occupied by Harry in the starfish position. She leans over him, pushing his hair out from his face.

“I’ll see you later?” she asks, sweetly.

“I think I’ll make an afternoon appearance. Gotta recover a bit. Drink some electrolytes.”

Briar rolls her eyes heading for the stairs, “Alright, I didn’t keep you out at an all-night rave. Bye, Harry.”

“Bye-bye, Birdie!” He shouts. “I’ve been waiting to say that one!”

Briar groans dramatically from the entryway, before closing the front door gently. He can get used to these kinds of mornings.

Since he’s up, he uses this time to head down to his home gym. He hops on his Peloton treadmill for a quick run, opting to listen to his playlist instead of the instructor’s. He sets a personal record, throwing a fist in the air when he earns his badge. His day is off to a great start, he thinks.

The morning goes by quick, and before he knows it, Harry’s getting dressed to head over to Wynnewood. He grabs green juice, one for Briar, and one for himself, from the organic grocery store down the street. He pulls up to the valet stand, tossing his keys to the boys.

Harry sets off toward the locker room to retrieve his clubs. He upgraded his locker to be able to keep his clubs there, instead of lugging them back and forth each time.

He arrives at the 5th hole for his designated tee time. The group ahead of him is playing at a less than ideal pace, so he grabs his phone to turn on a podcast. Instead of his usual finance show, he plays an episode of ‘Girls Gotta Eat’, per Briar’s recommendation.

He is a bit shocked by the raunchiness, but continues through the episode. He shakes his head, knowing that that show fits his girl’s personality perfectly. His girl. He likes that.

He hasn’t seen Briar anywhere. By the time he makes it to the 14th hole, he can see her cart parked in the wooded area — their spot.

Harry sinks the putt at 1 under — a birdie, of course, and then heads over to her. He hears her clapping and cheering for him. He places his clubs down a few yards away and saunters over.  

When he approaches, she’s beaming.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Birdie. Were you waiting for me here?”

“Maybe. I saw your tee time on the list.”

He smiles, sitting down next to her on her cart’s bench. The course is relatively empty, so they don’t feel the need to hide.

They embrace in a passionate kiss, getting a little sloppy after a while. He pulls away, and Harry begins to stare straight ahead. Unsure, she follows his gaze, but sees no one.

She can feel his hand snake under her skirt, eliciting a gasp.

“Harry! Here?”

“Why not? No one’s around. We’ll be quick.”

He’s thankful she’s not wearing one of those skort things. The built-in pants confuse him and make things difficult.

His fingers dance at the crotch of her thin panties. He glides his middle finger up her slit, gathering the bit of wetness. He inserts his middle finger. He has yet to look at Briar, but he’s sure the look on her face is one of bliss, broken whimpers escaping her throat.

“Be a good girl and keep it down. Wouldn’t want to cause a disturbance,” he murmurs in her ear. They’ve only hooked up twice, but he feels like he can start to explore his more dominate side with her.

Briar whines, wiggling away from him. Harry doesn’t like that.

“Move again and I stop.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, wanting to cum already. She hasn’t even looked up to see if anyone is near them. At this point, she doesn’t even care.

He thrusts three fingers in and out of her center vigorously, but discreetly. His thumb moves backward to pet at her clit, increasing the pressure in her pelvis. After a few moments, she’s clenching so hard around his fingers. She comes just seconds later, releasing the sweetest whine, shoving her face into his shoulder.

Harry removes his fingers, straightening out her skirt, before lifting his fingers to his mouth, licking his index, before sliding it out and extending his other fingers out to her.

“Suck.”

She welcomes his fingers in her mouth, tongue swirling around them. She closes her eyes at how erotic this is, his dominance making her hornier.

He pulls his hand back, reaching for one of the wipes she keeps in the cart, acting as if nothing happened. She can see his bulge in his pants, so she reaches over to try and alleviate it.

“Ah, ah. No, Birdie. Settle down. You’re not allowed to touch unless I say.”

She whines at his dismissal, but she realizes he’s playing the role of the dominant. They haven’t had an explicit conversation about their likes and dislikes in bed, but this is a big fat LIKE on her part. Her experience with dominant and submissive roles is limited, having only been spanked by her ex-boyfriend in college. She’s a quick learner and will basically do anything Harry tells her to.

Harry cleans up and rises from the cart, casually looking around. The course is still empty.

“Well, I better get going. Be a good girl for me, Birdie. I’ll see you later,” he says, kissing her on her neck.

He walks off, leaving Briar speechless, as usual.

~

Harry finishes his round, shooting well under par. This is a great fucking day, he thinks, smiling to himself as he heads to the locker room.

He sees Briar’s uncle, Patrick exiting one of the conference rooms near the locker room.

They make eye contact, and Harry smiles, about to open his mouth to greet him. Out of no where, Patrick pins Harry up against the wall, his forearm crushing his windpipe.

“Woah, Patrick, what’s going on?” Harry panics, choking slightly.

“What’re you doing sniffing around my niece?” Patrick seethes, his face getting red.

Harry falters, unable to form a coherent sentence. “I—what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I saw her get out of your car the other night, right out front,” he whisper-shouts, not wanting to draw any attention to their altercation.

Harry is caught red handed.

“Buddy, I—,” Harry starts, before Patrick interrupts.

“Don’t ‘buddy’ me, we’re not friends. That girl is my entire life, and I’ll be damned if a rich prick like you takes advantage of her. Especially one twice her age! I knew giving her this job was a bad idea. It’s why I didn’t let her work here as a teenager.”

Since Briar filled him in on the details of her upbringing, he understands Patrick’s defensiveness. Their bond is close, as he had to step up as her father figure for most of her life. Patrick eases up the pressure he’s holding on Harry’s neck.

“Sir, I completely understand. But, I can assure you, this isn’t some fling. I’m quite fond of Briar. We shouldn’t have risked being seen here. I would hate for it to affect her job. But, I promise, there are real feelings here — for both of us,” Harry explains, his eyes a little wide out of fear of Patrick’s next move.

Patrick eases off of him, looking around to make sure no other members saw them.

“Fine, but I swear to God, if you hurt her, you’re done for. Do you hear me?” Patrick threatens, staring straight into Harry’s soul.

“Understood.”

Harry retreats to the locker room, exhaling. He has an uneasiness in his stomach. He changes in record time, and books it towards his car. He shoots Briar a text:

🦊: Call me when you’re done your shift.

🐥: I will 🤠

He sits for a while, answering emails while he waits for her call.

He feels it buzzing, letting him know he has an incoming call from ‘🐥’.

“Hi! Are you still here?” she says, right as he picks up.

“Um, yeah, I’m still here. I’ve been sitting in my car,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“Huh? Why?” she asks, unsure of what his answer will be.

“Why don’t you come here and meet me. We’ll sit for a bit,” he says, trying to remain ambiguous.

“Ummm, okay, I’ll be right there.”

They end the call, and Briar appears at the passenger’s side a few minutes later. She hops in, giving him a peck.

“What’re you doing?” she asks.

“We have a bit of a situation,” Harry says gently, turning to face her in the passenger’s seat.

A puzzled look crosses her face, “What kind of situation?”

“Patrick saw you get out of my car when I drove you back here the other night. So, he just cornered me in the hallway by the locker room and gave me an earful.”

Briar doesn’t even process Harry’s words before she’s furiously opening the door and storming towards the pro shop. Harry swallows thickly, panic bubbling in his throat.

He quickly follows her in, knowing he looks like such a pussy for telling on Patrick.

Patrick is helping a customer when Briar powerfully pushes the door open, causing everyone in there to look at her.

“UNCLE PATRICK,” she screeches.

Patrick’s eyes go wide, seeing his niece, red in the face, and the guy he threatened to kill just an hour ago right behind her.

“Folks, if we could just have a few minutes… Come back later and I can help you all out…” He says to the people in the pro shop.

They clear out quickly. Patrick leans back against the counter, presumably giving Briar the floor to speak. He’s learned over the years to let her get her point across before responding.

“Harry told me you threatened him, is that true? I’m 23 years old for god’s sake. Who I spend my time with has nothing to do with you. And what are you doing even threatening someone with physical violence at your work? Are you crazy?” Briar rattles off point after point, and Patrick just takes it.

“Good now?” Patrick says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Briar bear — Listen, I know I don’t have a right to say anything, but when something like this is happening under my nose, I have to speak up. I just worry about you, kid. I always will. I just want to do right by your dad. Yes, you’re a grown woman now, but he would roll over in his grave if I let this go without saying a word.”

“I think I got my point across,” Patrick says, staring directly at Harry. “Didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Harry says, moving closer. “Which is why you can kick me out of Wynnewood if I ever disrespect Briar. I’m very serious about my feelings for her, Patrick.”

Briar smiles softly. She’s calmer having Harry with her for this conversation. “Uncle Pat, please don’t tell anyone about Harry and me. We’re still going to follow the rules and not be overly friendly on the property,” Briar says, already lying. She and Harry were plenty friendly in the woods on the 14th hole.

Patrick ponders, before agreeing. He pulls her in for a hug, resting his chin on her head. He glares at Harry over her head, to which Harry cowers away a bit. He still won’t fuck with Patrick, even though he has no plans of letting Briar go.  

The pair leave the pro shop, a few minutes after the other, as to not drum up suspicion. They climb back into his car, staring straight ahead in silence for a minute. Harry links their pinkies together.

“I like you all spicy like that,” Harry teases. “Like a little chihuahua. And Briar bear is so cute! Might even be cuter than Birdie.”

“Shut up.”

———————————————————————————

Tag list:

@awesomenavy @butdaddyilovehim-hs

Lmk if you want to be added!

[kitttttchaos]

Tbh idk if I could handle a Raven cycle adaptation unless I wrote it 😭 so here are some things I’d do as an (unqualified) aspiring filmmaker:

1. Film in Banner Elk and Wake Forest, North Carolina

Like tell me this does not give you Henrietta vibes

2. Soundtrack with songs like Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver, Nightjar and the Nightingale by Roo Panes, The View Between Villages by Noah Kahan, etc etc

3. Idk how recognizable Duke campus is but

Aglionby?

3. Score would have lots of acoustic guitars, a mix of like folk sounds and kind of lulling, plinking magical sounds, with a lot of rising, inspirational bits. In really intense scenes, really loud natural sounds like rain and wind rustling through trees and birdsong

4. You know when you’re outside, and you say something, and it echoes, but not really, it’s just that your voice is quieter than everything else because this is not your world, it belongs to the birds and the wind and the rain? THAT

5. Tons of focus on the idle scenes, like Noah and Blue running through Monmouth and messing stuff up, Gansey and Blue’s phone calls, Ronan street racing, Adam’s moments of thought, all things that you might cut if you were trying to focus on the plot but the plot of TRC is NOTHING without these scenes

6. That one scene in the Dream Thieves where Ronan is just sitting at the playground with Matthew, and it’s interrupted by Niall Lynch’s will. IMAGINE THAT AS A VOICEOVER just intercut with their conversation, or even as a rlly disjointed flashback

7. Adam Driver as Barrington Whelk

8. Theo James as the Gray Man

I’ll do a whole other one on characters but anyway those are my thoughts

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🩷 Non-Traditional Omegaverse Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

💜 War Of Hearts by BoosBabycakes / @boosbabycakes28 {E, 80k}

They are the bane of each other's existence, they never pass off an opportunity to remind the other of how annoying they are. Who would have thought that polar opposites could compliment each other so well?

A story about two boys, one looking for patience and trying to be strong enough to stand up for himself, and one struggling with self-discovery and strength, where facts, reality and becomings hit him in the face, and suddenly, everything that's ever been important to him is in play.

💜 What I Have With You (I don't want with anyone else) by @lululawrence {NR, 73k}

Louis smiled. “I’m sorry for how I ran away last night.”

“It’s totally fine. I’m sorry I did all that. I never asked if you were okay with it, and I really should have.”

Louis didn’t know how to respond to that. “I mean, I wasn’t really telling you no before that. How were you to know I’d be fine and then… not.”

“Well, if I had asked you first like I should have, then I would have known your boundaries.”

“How can you know my boundaries when even I don’t?” Louis scoffed. “Shit.”

Louis hadn’t meant to say that much to Harry. It’s not like he was embarrassed by who he was, but he still didn’t really talk about it openly either.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

Louis shook his head and kept his eyes trained on Harry’s chest. The shirt was old enough he could see the ghost of Harry’s tattoos through it.

“It’s a long and complicated story that is also very boring, so I don’t think you actually want the answer.”

Or Louis is an asexual alpha, Harry is his aromantic alpha friend and possible roommate, and faking a relationship might be exactly what they need to get their families and friends off their backs.

💜 Little by Little by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 65k}

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

💜 Take Me Down Slow (Don't Let Me Go) by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 26k}

Louis has always felt different. Not necessarily on the outer realm of societal norms, but pretty damn close to the edge. As an Omega, he’s supposed to want certain things; to want to raise a family, to want to build a life with a partner, and to want that partner to be an Alpha.

Well, two out of three ain’t bad.

OR the one where Louis wants to find the right kind of partner to love, Niall hates snowboarding, Liam wants to settle down, Harry is really good with his hands, and mother nature could be the thing that changes everything.

💜 Iron Hearts, Fire Souls by hopelesswriter / @getmesometacos {E, 26k}

"Lou..."

“I know, Harry! I know what you’ll say, we can’t right? We can’t help each other’s needs? We can’t be what the other needs? But fuck, what about what we want?! And I say we because you’ve been saying yes to all of our dates and you've been flirting back all this time and-“ He took a deep breath. “And there is nothing that I want more right now than to kiss you.”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are two single and unmated Lawyer Alphas that have to share an office and even though they shouldn't be that attracted to each other's scents, it sure isn't a big deal, right? I mean, what could go wrong?

💜 No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) by @allwaswell16 {E, 17k}

There’s never been anyone for Harry but Louis. He had always thought their love would last forever, despite society’s pressures on an alpha/alpha relationship. When Louis breaks up with him and moves to Chicago, he’s suddenly left behind to pick up the pieces of the life they once shared. Instead of moving on, he finds reasons to keep Louis in his life and in the process begins to piece together what went wrong.

Or an Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry au where they get a second chance to make things right with the love of their life.

💜 I'll Call You Mine by @kenniewen {T, 13k}

"Harry isn’t superstitious, doesn’t knock on wood, or wish on shooting stars, but his position on ‘love at first sight’ becomes increasingly wishy-washy as his mind begins to comprehend blue, blue, blue. He feels his heart constrict and tongue go dry. The man before him is the most beautiful omega he has ever seen in his entire life."

Or: A self indulgent Omega/Omega fic with a teacher/single parent of favorite student trope.

💜 Woke Up Feeling Knotty by @jaerie {E, 7k}

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

💜 All at once, this is enough by @lunarheslwt {G, 7k}

“Could you help me…to make a nest?” His question was whisper soft, not daring to look at Louis’ face as he asked. For a few seconds, nothing but silence ensued. And then- “You want me to help you make your nest?” Harry’s blush deepened as he meekly affirmed, “yes.” The lack of response straightaway from Louis, and the way he had questioned the request, had Harry’s stomach churning uneasily. Why did he ask that? You don’t ask your friends to build you nests, what the fuck Harry. Louis must think him to be such a twit- “I’ll help.”

Or, Harry, overcome with burn out, wants to nest but he has never nested before, doesn’t know how to. Louis, his best friend, is only happy to help him make a nest and be there for him. Along the way, they find something more.

💜 Milk & Honey by @kingsofeverything {E, 7k}

Breastfeeding twins is no easy task, so Harry joins the local M.O.M.M. (Male Omegas Make Milk) support group.

💜 Where I'm Meant To Be by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton {E, 6k}

Harry and Louis have been sleeping together casually for a while. As two Alphas they never wanted to define it as anything more.

When Louis helps Harry out with his rut so he can get it done in time for his exam, they're forced to face feelings they were habouring for a while.

💜 Sweet Dreams That Leave All Worries Behind You by @tommokat {T, 5k}

Harry’s getting his in ears secured and watching while Zayn and Louis mess with Liam’s microphone when the idea hits him. He slept perfectly last night; there was no chance for feelings of loneliness to creep in while he was wrapped up in Louis’ arms and scent and sheets. Which means if he can continue to—yes, this is perfect. Harry grins to himself and starts on his plan for tonight.

💜 Chew You Up Like Candy by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {E, 4k}

As it turns out, the internet can also be used to find people that like the same things as you. However unusual they may be. Or in Harry’s case, the things he thinks he might want to try.

Which is how Harry has now found himself laying on his back, fully naked, and strapped down to a bench. With an intimidating looking fucking machine positioned right between his spread legs.

And completely at the mercy of the prettiest Alpha Harry’s ever seen.

So really, this is all the internet’s fault.

(Or the one where Alpha Harry falls down a Reddit hole, that leads him to discover a few new kinks he never knew he had. It also leads him to Louis, an Alpha unlike any other Harry’s ever met. Louis’ more than happy to help Harry explore his new interests).

💜 And I Want More by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes {E, 3k}

Hearing Harry talk about knotting dildos makes Louis’ cock twitch. And fuck did it get hotter in here? Wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand he pulls Harry’s drawer to retrieve said dildo. It’s pink and glittery and honestly, Louis would expect nothing less from his best friend. A dazed smile forms on Harry’s face as soon as he wraps his fingers around it.

“Alright well, I should leave you to it. I’ll hang around on campus until your heat passes,” Louis informs Harry.

Harry’s eyes are open now, but they’re not looking at Louis, instead, they’re focused somewhere further south. He follows his gaze and immediately blushes when he notices what has caught his best friend’s attention. Louis’ erection is tenting in his sweatpants, a wet spot of precome darkening the fabric of his pants.

“Oh fuck.” It’s all making more sense now. All the heat he’s been feeling, the sweat. Louis is going through heat too.

💜 when we're finished saying nothing by @disgruntledkittenface {M, 3k}

Louis has barely woken up when she realizes that Harry is still mad from the night before. The silent treatment that Harry prefers when she’s like this isn’t going to achieve anything, so Louis gets up to apologize only to find out there’s more going on with her mate than she thought. That’s when her instincts take over.

An alpha/alpha AU inspired by Written All Over Your Face.

💜 dark rings of white noise by unwept / @peachade {M, 3k}

A culmination of emotions rise in him, he is a solar flare bubbling with indignation and shame and desire, three heavy emotions clashing together, threatening to explode in him and make a mess of his insides, ruin him and call the aftermath as art when he is more aftermath than art.

💜 Change of Plans by @haztobegood {G, 2k}

Harry and Louis plan to visit their families over Christmas. Sometimes, plans don't work out.

💜 When you're good to mama (he surprises you) by @sadaveniren {E, 2k}

“I hate your dick,” Harry sniffed.

“I know, baby.”

“Fucking magic beta dicks. Should have mated a damn alpha.”

aka Harry's pregnant with his sixth kid

💜 we don't fight fair by @hellolovers13 {E, 2k}

“What, you think I'll just roll over for you now?”

The smirk on Louis’ face was almost devilish. “Yes,” He breathed against Harry’s lips, cocky and sure, like it was a fact of life.

It sent all kinds of shivers through Harry. God, but he wanted to. Wanted Louis to have him right against this wall, let everyone see how he fell apart under him.

But not tonight.

Harry fixed his posture, standing up straighter and trying to get himself under control. “I don't think so, omega.”

Or: Nothing like a little chase to start off Louis' heat.

💜 Hanging Around by @homosociallyyours {G, 1k}

As a gay alpha loving alpha, Harry spent a lot of his life expecting to be single forever. Meeting Louis changed that, and after moving in together Harry realizes that he has the urge to nest. It's not a typical thing for an alpha to do, but Harry has never thought of himself as typical. Then again, neither is Louis.

💜 I got me an appetite, now I can taste it by @enchantedlandcoffee {E, 1k}

"Haz, are you sure about this? I don't want to hurt you, love." Louis asked, hovering over Harry's chest.

"Lou..." The omega whined, bringing his hands to the alpha's butt in an attempt to bring him closer. "You won't hurt me."

"Are you sure?" Louis asked again, staying rooted in his position until he was sure he wouldn't hurt the omega.

"I'm sure," Harry whined, moving his hands to the top of Louis' thighs. "How about this? If I'm uncomfortable in any way, I'll tap you twice, like this, okay?" The omega demonstrated the movement for Louis, tapping twice on the alpha's upper thigh.

OR Louis and Harry try something new in the bedroom.

[friendofcars]

Hello! Here is data on point of view distribution across characters in The Dreamer Trilogy (which I will abbreviate as TD3) as a follow up to my TRC data from last year (viewable here). A rather long-winded discussion of the data, methods notes, and some supplemental figures and tables are under the cut. As it was not possible to include all values and stats in this post (nor in the alt text for image IDs), my spreadsheet can be viewed by clicking here,

This project quantifies and visualizes the distribution of chapters and pages in the books of TD3 across characters from whose POVs the story is told. I didn’t have much of a hypothesis going into data collection/analysis, especially not like I did for the TRC data, but I did expect to see Ronan’s POV having the most chapters and pages for the entire series, given the fact that he is the most central of the protagonists. I don’t think page time is the be-all-end-all for a character’s importance, of course, but it is still interesting to consider how spending more time from certain perspectives affects the perceived narrative. I won’t get much into that aspect of analysis in this post, but if anybody would actually like to discuss that, I’d love to!

Results (and Interpretation):

TD3 consists of 173 chapters and 1184 pages (using the U.S. hardcover editions), making the average chapter 6.84 pages. The longest chapter is 16 pages, and the shortest is 1 page.

Figure 1A: The average chapter in Mister Impossible (MI) is considerably longer (9.26 pages) than the average chapter in Call Down the Hawk (CDTH) (6.00 pages) and in Greywaren (GW) (6.40 pages), which makes sense as MI has just 38 chapters while CDTH has 80 and GW has 55 (see Fig. 2). To me, the effect of the longer chapters (and therefore extended time with the current POV character) makes the various POVs feel more temporally distant from one another- not in a narratively incoherent way, but in a way that echoes the sense of isolation experienced by dreamers and weaponized by Bryde as he tries to convince Ronan and Hennessy to abandon their loved ones.

Figure 1B: Chapter length is fairly consistent amongst POVs across the series. Matthew has the longest average chapter length (8.40 page) over a small set of chapters (5 total)- his character development (as told from his own POV) is limited to a small number of instances, which may have stretched his chapters a bit longer. The 'Other' category has the shortest average chapter length (5.13 pages) (Fig. 1B); it includes the typically short chapters from witnesses of Visionary explosions/aftermath (Mags, Dabney) as well as Nathan's manifesto excerpts. (As a side note, I've described the chapters depicting memories from the Barns as 'Mór and Niall.' These chapters do not collectively portray an equal balance of their POVs, but this was the simplest way to categorize them.)

Figure 2A-B: These graphs are representations of chapter distribution across POVs in TD3 in terms of chapter count (2A) and proportion of total chapters (2B). Some observed trends include Declan's proportion of total chapters remaining quite constant throughout the series, Ronan's decreasing, Hennessy's proportion of chapters nearly doubling from CDTH to MI (and staying at a similar proportion to MI in GW), and Jordan's proportion following an opposite trend (consistent proportion in CDTH and MI, followed by a more than 50% drop in GW). Carmen's proportion of chapters also declines after CDTH.

Figure 2C: This graph compares total chapters per character POV over the entire series. We can see that the largest proportion of the series is told from Ronan's POV (53 chapters, or 0.306 of all chapters). To put that in perspective, Hennessy has the next highest number of chapters (26, or 0.150 of all chapters), which is just under half the number of Ronan's. If all characters had an equal number of chapters from their POV (including the miscellaneous POVs as one category labeled Other), they would each have 21.6 chapters, represented by the horizontal dashed line; Declan, Jordan, Carmen, and Hennessy all have chapter counts relatively close to this number.

Figure 2D-E: These are representations of page distribution across POVs in TD3 in terms of page count (2D) and proportion of total pages (2E). Trends are similar to those depicted in 2A-B, but 2E does make Declan's increased proportion of page time in GW salient.

Figure 2F: This graph compares total pages per character POV over the entire series. The dashed line shows that if each character (plus the Other category) had equal page time in the series, readers would spend 148 pages with each POV. Again, page data is similar to chapter data, but comparing graphs 2C and 2F gives a clear visual indicator that Jordan's chapters (on average, 8.11 pages) are longer than Carmen's (on average, 6.08 pages), since Carmen has visibly more chapters in 2C yet nearly the same number of pages as Jordan in 2F.

Figure 3: Figure 3 shows distribution of chapters (3A-B) and pages (3C-D) in CDTH, as well as average chapter length for each character POV (3E). An equal distribution of chapters would have been 13.3 per character, and an equal distribution of pages would have been 80.0 per character. The 'Other' category included chapters from the perspectives of Lock, Breck Myrtle, Shawna Wells, Jason Morgenthaler (and Lin Draper, briefly, in the same chapter), Mags Harmonhouse, and Dabney Pitts. Carmen's average chapter length in CDTH (4.67 pages) is the lowest single-book average for character POVs appearing throughout the entire series. (Nathan's average chapter length is just 1.00 [Supplemental Figure 2], yet his POV only appears in GW via his manifesto excerpts, and while I have attributed these chapters to his POV, I interpret the POV as actually ambiguous. As with Kavinsky's text in TDT, it's not absolutely certain if we are reading from the writer or the reader's perspective [although in TDT, due to the lack of Kavinsky POV elsewhere, it's probably the latter]).

Figure 4: Figure 4 shows distribution of chapters (4A-B) and pages (4C-D) in MI, as well as average chapter length for each character POV (4E). An equal distribution of chapters would have been 5.43 per character, and an equal distribution of pages would have been 50.3 per character. The 'Other' category included two chapters, both with what I deemed omniscient narration. Declan had the shortest chapters in MI (8.20 pages), and Jordan had the longest (11.4 pages, the longest average for a character for a single book in this series).

Figure 5: Figure 5 shows distribution of chapters (4A-B) and pages (4C-D) in GW, as well as average chapter length for each character POV (4E). An equal distribution of chapters would have been 6.88 per character, and an equal distribution of pages would have been 44.0 per character. The 'Other' category included Nathan's manifesto excerpts (3 chapters), 1 chapter from Liliana's POV, and 3 other chapters with omniscient narration. While Ronan never has the longest chapters, his chapters are shorter relative to other POVs in Greywaren, perhaps as a result of the way his chapters are written during his time asleep/in the sweetmetal sea. I have not yet investigated whether chapters tend to be longer while characters are awake vs asleep or dreaming, but that's something that could be measured from the existing data in the spreadsheet! There is also a dramatic drop in Jordan's POV time in GW compared to the previous two books, perhaps because of her increased divergence from Hennessy and desire to establish a life that follows her own narrative.

Other findings: A major difference I noted between TRC and TD3 was the lack of split chapters in TD3. In TRC, the data analysis was made slightly complicated by having to account for the fact that a non-negligible number of chapters would make a distinct and discrete switch between POVs partway through. While I did not observe this in TD3, I did encounter more ambiguous/nebulous POVs as I previously mentioned. The increased presence of omniscience in the trilogy, for me, contributed to the increased sense of scale and stakes compared to TRC. This increased continuity amongst POV (not amongst core/recurring POV characters, but amongst groups of characters/communities depicted in the omnisciently narrated chapters) also contributed to a sense of dissolution of barriers and identities, perhaps thematically in line with Ronan's character development and increasingly holistic perspective of both his humanity and otherworldliness (although Ronan is not necessarily featured in these 'boundary-breaking' chapters). I also briefly looked at occurrences of back-to-back chapters from the same POV; this happens most frequently for Ronan in all three books, mainly in CDTH, and sometimes featuring a dreaming chapter directly before an awake chapter (or vice versa) in immediate succession. Declan (MI), Carmen (CDTH), and Jordan (CDTH) all have a pair of back-to-back chapters at some point in the series; Hennessy has 2 (MI, GW).

Conclusions: In all honesty, despite this project being quite fun and fulfilling and of course, worth doing, I do not think I have any particularly insightful conclusions about the data beyond what I've already discussed. Ronan took up the largest share of the chapters and pages as expected, although I am not sure I expected this to be true by such a large margin. I also was surprised that Declan did not have more chapter/page time, but it is possible that his notable inclusion in chapters from other characters' POVs increases his prominence in the series (and I suppose this is probably true for all characters who frequently appear in chapters outside their perspective). As with TRC, the number of POVs expands as the series develops, often with the effect of increasing the scope of the story's implications, and perhaps, more importantly, showing the story from additional angles that contextualize and/or distort narrative established by other characters' perspectives. I hope you've enjoyed exploring the data as I have, and those interested in my methodology may continue reading below!

Methods:

Data collection was straightforward in the sense that I simply counted the pages in each chapter and then assigned each chapter to a character based on the POV represented. The POV character assignment was more difficult than it was for TRC, as TD3 has more omnisciently narrated chapters, which in itself is easy to categorize, but they often zoom in on or are 'biased' towards the experience of a particular character, so I had to make some decisions as to what, for me, constituted sufficient focus on a character’s internal narration and expression vs. omniscience. In the spreadsheet, I took notes on these more subjectively driven decisions. Again, you can view it here! It also contains data on whether the chapter is from an awake or dreaming POV, and has the first lines of each chapter, among which are some fun repeating patterns. 

For bar graphs with dots, each dot represents a single chapter. You may also notice that the graphs are missing p-values from statistical tests this time around! This is because, since completing the TRC data, I’ve realized that such measures of uncertainty re: significant differences are not appropriate for my dataset, which is not a sample representing a population, but rather a complete group of chapters (so parametric tests are not necessarily helpful or valid). However, I still like to run the tests for my own amusement and to see what the results would be if this were a dataset for which ANOVA and contingency tests were appropriate, so I have standard deviation bars on the graphs where calculable (but no standard deviations in the text of the results section for legibility) as well as the p-values in tables at the end of this post for anyone also curious. I did still calculate the numbers of chapters and pages that would represent an equal distribution across POV characters, which are represented by the dashed lines on the relevant figures. I think this is helpful to visually gauge 'over-representation' and 'under-representation' of character POVs.

Below are the supplemental figures showing all character POVs rather than lumping some together in an 'other' category. The MI data in figure 4 is not expanded below because the chapters designated as 'other' were omniscient and thus would have remained in the same category.

And finally, here are the omitted p-values, if you'd like to pretend along with me that all the chapters in TD3 are not a complete set but rather a representative sample of a greater population of chapters that's out there in the universe. :) When I give a p-value below the 0.05 threshold but still write 'no significant differences amongst any combination of characters, I mean that the p-values generated for the comparisons between each possible pair of characters were all above 0.05, which are distinct from the overall p-value generated from the ANOVA.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

Hello, hello! I feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything. Writing is still slow and jury is out on whether any of my WIPs will actually take hold of me. For now, have a little Watford-era Baz:

If I were smart, I’d school my expression bored and turn away. Their little domestic dispute clearly has nothing to do with me. But I’ve always been a glutton for punishment where Simon Snow was concerned.

So I don’t look away. Not even when she finally relents and allows him to put a hand on the small of her back. He gently guides her to him, his thumb slowly stroking her. The wet fabric rides up ever so slightly and I imagine what his scalding palm might feel like against my own cool skin. He rubs his other hand along her arm, no doubt trying to warm her. Or comfort her. Maybe both. I feel a lump rise in my throat and thank magic Dev and Niall show up when they do. It’s just the jolt back to reality I need. I force myself to put on my best sneer and push down the horrifying emotions threatening to spill out of me.

Apropos of nothing, I spent all last night fixing the broken art on collabs I had on AO3, so now all of my fics that have art from friends are back up. 🥳 someone please give me a high five ☺️ 😆

Hellos/thank yous/tag backs, etc

@fatalfangirl @whatevertheweather @moodandmist @facewithoutheart @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @thewholelemon 🍯 @artsyunderstudy @ic3-que3n @run-for-chamo-miles @mooncello @hushed-chorus @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @forabeatofadrum @noblecorgi @that-disabled-princess @angelsfalling16 @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold @orange-peony @prettygoododds @aristocratic-otter @wellbelesbian @messofthejess @nightimedreamersworld @best--dress @valeffelees @rimeswithpurple @blackberrysummerblog @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @emeryhall @letraspal @raenestee @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature

[1d1195]

Committed II

Read the first part here

(I'm sorry it's gonna have to be three parts at this rate)

“Hi, kitten,” his voice vibrated in his chest and through her body.

“Hi Harry,” she whispered.

“Missed me?” He hummed to the top of her hair.

“A little,” she muttered. He chuckled.

She had heard Harry sing for almost her whole life—since she had met him when she moved to England and started primary school the same year as he did. Harry’s voice was like a lullaby—her suggestion to record covers was joke, but she was grateful all the same. But there was no greater music than Harry laughing in her ear.

On the days where they weren’t getting ready for a show, she was working her day job; managing a local music store—anything to get into the business of making Harry’s dreams come true. Harry often meandered there on his lunch break to look over albums and sit while she organized shelves and chatted with customers.

As much as Harry liked the idea of becoming part of a big-time band, he didn’t really mind if he didn’t. He was content working at a club when he wasn’t playing in the band. One day he planned to own his own club and play as much as possible. He loved music and loved the idea of supporting small town bands like his. And honestly, he always imagined owning it with his best friend in the world.

She was walking toward another shelf to organized it while Harry mindlessly flipped through new album titles on old vinyl. Harry was in awe of how his generation and the one after him were moving toward such vintage ideals, he liked the feel of records again. But mostly, He liked seeing her in her element among the songs and titles.

As she walked over, Harry called a quiet “Hey,” and tossed a French fry in her direction at the same time. Without even a break in her step, she turned her face just as he threw it, the fry bounced off half her cheek and she managed to snag the other half with her tongue. He chuckled as she winked at him. It was moments like these that Harry thought about Niall saying she would be insane not to take the internship. More so when she said she should be committed then, because she wouldn’t be taking it.

Because the only thing Harry could think about was how he would have to be committed if she did take it.

The idea of not seeing her every day and hearing her laugh made his chest ache for something he shouldn’t even be aching about. She was right there. Just a shelf away from him. Her eyes scanning titles of albums to make sure they were in the right order. Humming to the music that played (her choice of course).

“I think you should record,” she said.

It came up every so often. Usually when one of the songs Harry covered played over the speakers filling the room with sweet melodies that she loved so much. It was part of the reason Harry did all the covers. Why he was so insistent the band learn the old songs and obscure songs that they wouldn’t have normally played. Whatever she loved was fine by him because there wasn’t a song as sweet as her happiness.

She had a lot of favorite songs, and as such, so did Harry.

“We can’t jus’ record covers, kitten.”

She rolled her eyes. “There are cover bands, Harry,” she reminded him.

“I know, m’love,” he chuckled. “But...I want t’record m’own music.”

“Well, you can do that too...I just think you sing this song better than original and I’d like to have it recorded so I can fall asleep listening to it.”

Shaking his head as he popped another fry into his mouth he thought about her suggestion. He liked the idea that his voice would be the last thing she heard before she fell asleep. “Maybe if y’take this internship, I’ll record us...a going away present,” he suggested.

Her organization of the shelf came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes locked with the album titles, and she then slowly closed them. “Very funny,” she muttered.

“Kitten—”

“Don’t. Just don’t, Harry. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

He was quiet for a few moments as he pondered the notion that she wouldn’t leave because of him. Mitch couldn’t be right. That would be insane. There was no way she would give up an incredible opportunity like this...for Harry. “M’always on your side, love,” he said softly. He didn’t want to upset her, and he could see the way her jaw locked tensely as he started to speak again. It was like she was on the defensive. But Harry could also see the way her eyes started to water. “S’why I think y’should go,” he told her. As much as he didn’t want her to be so far away... “I...I would come visit,” he promised. “S’only a year,” he reminded her. “We could FaceTime all the time.”

She didn’t speak for a moment. “A lot can change in a year,” she whispered quietly so the sadness in her voice couldn’t reach his ears.

But it was her, so he heard it anyway. “Not us.” Harry watched a tear roll down her cheek and she caught it with the back of her hand before Harry could make a big deal of it. “Jus’ think ‘bout it,” he said. “Don’t say no yet,” he murmured and stood from his stool, another French fry between his fingers as he walked closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, gave her a squeeze with a kiss to the top of her head. He held the fry to her lips, and she bit it, despite not feeling in a playful mood.

“Okay,” she said and wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist tucking herself into his chest and Harry wished with everything in him that it didn’t feel like goodbye.

*

When they caught up at home, Harry would sit with her legs draped over his lap a book in between her hands and he would play a video game with Mitch or just watch a show while she read. They looked like a couple. Acted like a couple. “Do you want Mexican or Italian?” She asked randomly as her eyes scanned her book.

He glanced from his game to catch her concentrated expression and he just wanted to kiss her sweet face for the rest of his life. “We haven’t had Italian in a while, yeah?” He murmured.

They certainly sounded like an old married couple.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Can you pick it up?” She smiled impishly.

“Ugh...” he groaned. “I got it last time!”

“But I don’t wanna,” she whined.

Harry would slice his arm off at the elbow if she asked. Even if her dramatic whine was all fake, he would do anything for her to appease her. Smirking he sighed just as dramatically as she whined. “Oh alright.”

“I’m so lucky to have a best friend like you. Thank God, I sat next to you on the bus,” she giggled. Harry smirked gently tossing her legs off his lap. “Gah!” She gasped. “No wait! Never mind! Let’s get pizza or something else delivered.” He chuckled.

“S’matter, love?”

“I was so comfy,” she frowned and pouted petulantly. Harry couldn’t believe how cute she looked. He thought his heart would ooze right out of his body and melt at his feet. How could she not know how much he adored her?

“Aw, kitten,” he cooed at her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be right back...actually, can I get it on your phone? Mine is dead from—” He grabbed it off the coffee table and started to unlock it with her passcode when a message popped up from a guy’s name he didn’t recognize. He felt his eyebrows pinch together in confusion. Her mouth fell open because even though Harry didn’t know what was going on, she definitely did. “Who’s this?” He asked.

“Uh...remember the night I fell at the club?”

“Yeah...”

“This guy started chatting with me in the crowd when I left backstage.”

Harry remembered the guy almost instantly. He hadn’t thought to think about him because all he could think about was her safety, her head injury, and how scared he was that night. Any thought of inquiring about the man that caught her attention was lost in the shuffle of more pressing matters. And Harry couldn’t believe he forgot about it—especially now, seeing his name on her phone. “Oh.”

“He’s nice,” she said quietly. “He wants to get coffee sometime.”

Harry nodded and moved to her internet browser so he could look up the Italian restaurant. He was glad he was going to get the food now. It gave him time to collect his thoughts. “That’s nice,” he said absentmindedly.

She hated when he was grumpy. “Are you mad?”

“Y’didn’t mention him...s’been almost a month.”

“Wasn’t really anything to tell you.”

He nodded ordering her favorite without asking. He didn’t need to. Smugly, he thought the guy at the other end of her phone wouldn’t know what her favorite meal was without asking. He’d have to find out and that made Harry happy. The guy in question was good looking and he obviously had good taste if he had eyes for the sweet girl sitting beside him. He remembered in the moment how mad he was that someone was chatting her up and making her cheeks turn pink. Harry wanted to throw her phone in the toilet and flush it before she could answer him. “Okay,” he said but he sounded irritated, and she knew he was.

“Harry?” She asked as he started for the door to put his shoes on.

“Yeah, love?” His sour mood shrinking as he distanced himself from the offensive text messages.

“I wouldn’t go out with a guy without telling you about him,” she promised. “Someone has to make sure I’m not kidnapped or murdered.”

Harry wished he could have just said what he was thinking. But instead, he smiled and shook his head. “You sweet girl, anyone that kidnapped you, would bring y’back t’me after ten minutes,” he winked exiting before she had time to argue.

“I resent that!” He heard her call through the door.

*Three Months Later*

It took a lot of convincing, a lot of packing, and a lot of reassurance that she could go, and it would be okay.

Harry was the one that took her to the airport. Her mom knew how important it was to give them a chance to say their goodbyes alone, without an audience of people they knew. Besides, her mom had always wanted to see the states. She would visit in no time. They didn’t chat while Harry walked her bags through security check, and he pressed a hand to her back when the crowd got too large. She was so completely comforted by his touch it melted her like nothing she’d ever felt before.

But when Harry heard her sniffle, he knew he was done for. “Oh, don’t start, kitten. I won’t be able t’stop if y’start,” he chuckled sadly, and tears filled his vision.

She sniffled around a choked off, giggly breath. “M’sorry.” He stopped in his tracks and wrapped his arms around her tightly clutching her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head as she shook with silent sobs. Harry swallowed around the emotion in his throat trying to be brave for her. But he couldn’t help but worry about all that could happen in a year. As much as he didn’t want it to.

After a few minutes her tears, they continued walking to her gate. Harry held her hand and it felt like they were a couple. It always did, but there was something about this...this moment that felt so different. “You can’t get a new best friend while I’m gone,” she blurted. “Maybe Niall can be your new best friend or Mitch...maybe even Sarah, but that’s it. Definitely, no new girl ones.”

“Kitten, I couldn’t dream of replacing you,” he promised. As easy as it would have been to roll his eyes at the prospect, he refrained. He meant each word. There was no replacing her. When she got back, Harry would still be there waiting for her. She noticed how there wasn’t even a smile at her near crazy outburst. He didn’t even laugh at the idea of it all. “We’re going t’talk every day,” he assured her.

She felt like someone was ripping her heart out piece by piece right through her chest. She should just say it. Tell him. He probably knew she was in love with him. It was kind of him to remain best friends even when she was infatuated with him. There were so many options for him...and without her around to be in the way...

God, a year seemed like forever. “Yeah?” She asked meekly.

“No...you’re the only one I need, love.” She wished with everything in her Harry meant those words. “I’ll see y’before y’know it,” he said.

“Don’t,” she sniffled.

“I know,” he said and looked at the floor. “I got y’something,” he mumbled.

She looked up at him. She wished she wasn’t crying so much because Harry was too beautiful to be blurred by tears and it was going to be the last time, he saw her for a good long while. “Why?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’re something else, love.” Reaching in his pocket he procured a flash drive and placed it in her palm. “For when y’fall asleep.” It took a moment for the words to process. But once they did her jaw nearly unhinged, and she wished she could have been more put together in that moment but instead she threw herself into his embrace and held onto him like he was a life raft.

Part of her believed he really was a life raft in more ways than one. She was certain that if it weren’t for the scheduled flight, she might have drowned the two of them with her tears.

*

As soon as she landed, Harry was the first one she texted.

I’ve arrived.

Good. Now s’only 179 days till I visit. :)

After she called her mom and showed off her new little place, she FaceTimed Harry, of course. She knew it was late there, but he answered on the first ring. “Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey, love,” he smiled sleepily. “Show me around,” he hummed.

“No...it’s late. I just...wanted to say goodnight to you.”

“No, show me,” he pressed. “M’not tired.”

She could see the way his eyes drooped, and she would have given anything to coerce his tall and lanky frame to bed. This would be the longest six months of her life. “I’ll show you tomorrow. I’m pretty jet lagged myself,” she said.

He nodded. He really would have stayed up. Harry would have asked questions. But he was glad he wouldn’t have to. “Oh...okay, love. Did y’listen yet?”

“No,” she said and pulled her laptop from her bag. “I will now,” she smiled. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, love,” he murmured. As she was about to end the call, she waved but he stopped her. “Wait,” he said suddenly. She paused and he smiled gently. “I love you, kitten. Miss you already,” he said sweetly.

Her heart thudded loudly throughout her body. “I love you too,” she whispered.

But she wondered if he knew she meant it from six thousand miles away.

*

She wondered if Harry thought about her as often as she thought about him. It was evening time for her, and Harry was probably (hopefully) sleeping. She knew if she called him, he would wake to the sound of her ringtone. She would tell him how much she missed him, and he would be alert and awake before the sun was even up.

So, she stared silently out the window of the tall building she was living in on her own, trying not to think about her best friend half a world away. She tried not to think about how his life was very much the same and hers was not. It’s not like she could date anyone even if she wanted to—she was only state side for another six months and then she would be back to pining for Harry. Hoping and praying that they would just be.

Sarah called frequently and kept her updated on how Harry was actually doing. “His mind is everywhere...well not really. All he thinks about is you; but it really clouds his judgment and vision and everything,” she snickered. “We all miss you a lot.”

“I really miss you guys. This is an amazing opportunity and I’m glad, I guess,” she giggled. “That you made me go,” she rolled her eyes.

“My pleasure,” Sarah flipped her hair with a proud smile on her face. “So how are the guys?” She asked with a wiggling eyebrow.

“Oh...” she snorted. “That’s a no from me,” she told her. “There’s no point at all,” she explained.

“Plus, your betrothed would lose it,” she amended. “I heard something, somewhere, that even if you don’t eat, you can appreciate the menu,” she giggled. “So, tell me what they’re like.”

“What do you mean betrothed?” She rolled her eyes.

“Love, please don’t be silly,” Sarah sighed. “Harry would go out of his mind.” She looked at Sarah through the camera and stared at her. “You can’t be serious. If you met a guy in the States, Harry would go out of his mind. He’d spiral that you’ll never come back,” she explained. “You obviously know this.”

“No, I don’t obviously know this.”

Sarah was silent for a few moments and they just stared at once another. “Love,” she said so gently. “You have to know you’re both madly in love with each other,” she said.

Swallowing she shook her head. “Sarah, I don’t look like you. I don’t look like any girl Harry has ever dated. I don’t look like the girls that fall in love with him or Niall or even Mitch when you guys play on stage. I’m not...” she felt the pricking of tears burning her eyes. It was hard to have this conversation at all. Having it over Facetime thousands of miles away from her friend was even worse.

“Harry doesn’t love me though,” she said gently. Sarah’s eyebrows pinched together in concern and her lips pressed together. “He’s so entranced by you. I wish you could see the way he lights up when you’re around,” Sarah sounded so sure, so positive. It broke her heart that she couldn’t see how much Harry loved her the way she saw it. “He doesn’t love those girls because they’re not you.”

“But he should,” she whispered.

“Why would he?! He’s your best friend and he adores you. Everything about you. He was so excited for you to get this opportunity as much as he wanted to handcuff you to his side. You—”

“Because I’m not good enough for him,” she said dejectedly.

Sarah was silent again. “What are you talking about?”

“Sarah, he’s perfect,” she said. “He’s beautiful, he’s funny, he’s smart, he’s nice. He is the best person I know and he deserves—”

“He deserves you,” she interrupted. She shook her head sniffling as she thought about all the times she wanted Harry so much and he was always so close but he really, always, so far away.

“I’m not pretty—”

“Love, you’re stunning,” she promised. “You have to believe that. Harry forgets how to speak when you walk in the room...he’s so completely smitten with you.”

She snorted. “Harry forgets how to speak when anyone walks in the room.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Just a small sniffle every couple seconds. “Harry has been depressed while you’ve been gone. He’s been dying to come see you. It’s all he can talk about. He doesn’t go out, but he doesn’t even want to go out without you. He plays music, he packs up, he sleeps, and he goes to work. The only time he’s himself is when he chats with you. You are his favorite person; that is more than enough.”

She didn’t respond to Sarah’s claims. “Are you coming to visit?”

Sighing Sarah smiled weakly. “We’re all trying to spread out the visits so as not to overwhelm you but also make it go by faster for us all,” she rolled her eyes. “He may miss you the most, but he’s not the only one. It’s quite testosterone-y around here,” she giggled.

Smiling she nodded. “Yeah, I bet,” she shook her head. “M’sorry to leave you with them all.”

“Oh it’s quite alright. You’ve always been good about reigning in their craziness though. I just don’t have the knack, energy, or patience for it,” she rolled her eyes. “They’re silly boys.”

“That’s for sure. Niall told me he was going to try his hand at your drums.”

“Yeah, he did! I almost murdered him,” she laughed.

She was grateful to not talk about Harry for the rest of the phone call. As much as she probably did want to talk about him. But if she did, she was afraid she would continue crying and crying until it was time for her to go home.

*

While she loved having everyone visit, of course it was Harry’s visit she was looking forward to the most. (Not that she would tell the others that.) But it was Harry that she was nearly bouncing with excitement in the airport terminal as she waited anxiously for him to appear through the doors of baggage claim ready to tackle him in a hug that she hoped would never end.

“For someone so tall you think I’d find you more easily,” she said to her phone.

He chuckled a bit tiredly. “M’jus’ stuck behind a ton of people, kitten. M’here though. M’looking for your short frame but m’afraid I might miss you.”

“Suddenly I want you to go home.”

“Aw,” he cooed. “Don’t be mean,” he chuckled. “Came all this way,” he reminded her.

She was about to make another slight joke at his expense, but her eye caught his tall frame just as the doors open once more. All at once, she was running.

She dropped her phone into her purse and felt tears prick her eyes and she didn’t even warn him that she saw him, didn’t warn him as she silently flew across the crowd of people. Only stopping when her arms were around his neck, her toes barely touching the floor and nothing ever felt so much like home except for Harry. Stumbling at the sudden mass of energy flying at him, he sighed with relief as his arms wrapped around her. They stood silently, just as they did the last time they were in the airport, her tears silent and few this time as she released a breath she felt like she had been holding since she left.

“Hi, kitten,” his voice vibrated in his chest and through her body.

“Hi Harry,” she whispered.

“Missed me?” He hummed to the top of her hair.

“A little,” she muttered. He chuckled.

She had heard Harry sing for almost her whole life—since she had met him when she moved to England and started primary school the same year as he did. Harry’s voice was like a lullaby—her suggestion to record covers was joke, but she was grateful all the same.

But there was no greater music than Harry laughing in her ear.

*

Harry had the longest visit—staying two weeks in her little place all snuggled up like their little married couple that everyone mistook them for. “M’so happy t’be here,” he said while she poured muffin batter, she just finished mixing into the pan.

“Just for muffins?” She smiled.

With a shake of his head, a sigh, and an eyeroll he thought about shaking her a bit at how silly she was being. “Kitten, ‘ve missed you something awful,” he murmured.

She focused on pouring carefully and not how her stomach fluttered at his words. “I heard,” she said gently. “Moping around?”

“What’s the point in going out if m’best friend isn’t around?” He shrugged.

“So you don’t get all sad and sappy while I’m gone!”

He smiled that beautiful, dimply smile that made her heart skip beats. “Love, m’a mess without y’around t’keep me in line,” he admitted. “Can’t remember ever being apart from you after I met you.

Putting the empty bowl in the sink and the pan in the oven she looked Harry all lanky and beautiful sitting on the stool at the breakfast bar sipping his coffee that she so kindly made for him. All the things that Sarah mentioned ran through her brain. Here he was visiting her so he wouldn’t go crazy for the rest of the year. She thought about all the girls that fawned over him and how pretty they were and how pretty he was.

But she also thought about how he was here. Completely content on being alone in her place or exploring nearby while she was at work. Cooking her dinner and taking her for walks and visiting tourist attractions when she was free.

Hope seemed like the enemy every time she looked in the mirror. Looking at her reflection made her long for a less asymmetrical face. She wished her skin was smoother. And if she looked past her neck, she made herself forget how to breathe without how sad she was and the idea that she would never be good enough for her best friend.

“Hey love, I made reservations for this ramen place, have y’been to it yet?” Hurriedly she left the bathroom with a shake of her head and hurried to find Harry scrolling on his phone, comfortably at home on her couch.

Over the six months she’d been here, she felt the place always seemed a bit empty.

She should have known Harry was the part that was missing.

*

When Harry left to return home the heartache was nearly as fresh as the last time. But now it felt like a countdown—for as much as she loved the internship, she was excited to go back and get back into her routines and be with her best friend.

The tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she watched Harry cross through security and out of view. “It’s so refreshing to see a couple so committed and in love with each other,” a woman smirked gently at the poor girl sadly gazing longingly after her best friend. She turned to the woman who looked old enough to be her mother.

“Pardon?” She sniffled wiping her cheeks and under her eyes with both hands.

“I’m sorry, not to be intrusive, you just reminded me of my husband and myself years ago,” she said reaching into her purse for a package of tissues and then offered one to the poor sad girl. “In college we spent some time abroad—a year apart from one another each. The longest time we were ever apart.”

“Oh...we’re not...” she sniffled wiping the tissue under her nose. “We’re just friends.”

The woman smirked and shook her head. “Yes. They usually are,” she trailed off and headed toward the security line as well.

Blinking away the final tears and sniffling, she turned on her heel heading back for the warm air outside the airport thinking how there were fewer minutes left until she would see Harry next.

--

@tiaamberxx

[allwaswell16]

Hi Anitra! I was wondering if you had any favourite omega!louis fics?

Ohhhh I have so many...I'll try to narrow it down to five for you...

where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou

Harry wasn’t wrong about that, not in a general sense. Lots of omegas did seek out rich alphas and betas, hoping or planning to go into heat at the right time. Plenty of omegas saw this as their duty, especially if their families weren’t well off. Worse, Louis couldn’t honestly say he’d never thought about it. If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now. As it is…Louis feels like shit.

Or the accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

Moon Dances Over by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.

He also knows that that means he’ll be one of the first to pick tonight, as the most beautiful omegas are blessed to pick their mates first. It’s considered a huge honour, since the guppies they’ll eventually birth will certainly be beautiful as well, bringing favour on the whole clan.

Louis has a stubborn streak, though. He’s always been rather a fan of mating for love, and there’s someone he’s had his eye on for a long time now.

Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

And That’s The Tea by @2tiedships2

I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

Cameras Flashing by @juliusschmidt

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

Bonus: My favorite omega Louis I wrote lol

If I Loved You Less by allwaswell16

Beautiful omega Louis Tomlinson is set to make his come out in London society and determined to find a mate in his first Season. With the help and protection of his oldest friend, Lord Niall Mendes, he takes Society by storm.

Being a wealthy and titled alpha means Lord Harry Styles has grown used to avoiding unmated omegas...until now. This Season he finds himself at every Society event just for a chance to speak with the omega with the flashing blue eyes.

Louis has the aristocracy at his feet and all the suitors he could hope for, but his secrets may ruin his chance at a love match.