#harry fluff
loversipod · 2 days
Star girl and Moon lover
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Summary: Harry is a moon lover and y/n is a star girl. Their dates end at a blanket staring at the heavens, falling in love with each other more everyday.
Pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
Wordcount: 717
Trigger warnings: none
It was a warm summer night with a cold gentle breeze. Her dress was blowing in the wind, so was his hair getting messy. They both love warm summer nights and hang out a lot. Harry gave her his warm sweater, he saw how y/n was freezing. His voice is always so soft when he talks to her and so it is today, “I knew you’ll forget yours.” He mumbled softly in the shell of her ear.
They have a soft spot for how the stars are visible on a cloudless night. The stars are glowing is her favourite thing and Harry adores the moon. The dark sky, the bugs are almost the only thing you can hear at night. The streets are almost empty. You hear one, two cars drive around the small city. The quiet music is coming from Harry’s phone. It was one of y/n all time favourite songs. He always plays them for her. It’s calm and gentle.
Harry knows y/n for a long time they were best friends, still are. Y/n and Harry have known each other their whole life. Her lover was always the quiet boy next door who never talks to anyone at all and she was the hopeless romantic with the Roses garden.
First they were childhood best friends, then they stopped talking. Somehow they started talking again and now they are finally more than that. It took them so long to talk to each other, all over again.
Harry laid his hand on hers, still watching the magical summer of the heavens, “are you okay? Do you want to go home? It's getting really cold.” He saw how her expression changed to a sad look. She doesn’t want the dead of night to end yet.
Her soft pink lips part, “it’s okay,” she said softly on the warm night. Her hair was all messy and due to the wind every time she wanted to fix it the breeze blew around their heads.
She had those lips, he wanted to kiss so bad, all summer.
She’s talking to him. Her voice tastes like warm and sweet honey. Her eyes sparkle like cold moonstones. Her lips seem so gentle like a flower in the summer breeze. Everytime Harry has the opportunity to take a seat next to her he smells a garden full of flowers. In his nose flew the smell of sweet strawberries.
“What is your favorite memory of us?” She asked him, and snuggled her shivering body closer to him.
He opens his mouth, through his mind goes every possible thing he could say, but he always lands on this memory. It didn't matter what beautiful memories he had. All are perfect in some way.
She laid her head on his warm shoulder, his head resting on top of hers. She always liked him, she liked how quiet he was around other people, only she knows he never shuts up.
“It would be wrong, if I have to choose only one, everything is so special when you’re around, bug.” Harry asked his girl a view times, if she’s ready to leave, but she wasn’t ready to go home and end their magical night.
Y/n legs are almost numb from the cold air. He had packed one of his fluffy blankets, y/n has always been honest with him. All the time.
She supported her head on his chest and the blanket sprawled over their body’s. “I found the fox,” he pointed at the dark, almost black sky. His star girl lifted her gaze back up to the delightful night sky to see it herself.
“It’s so hard to find,” a yawn came over her soft lips.
Time was forgotten, eyes became heavier and harder to keep open. The wind became colder, her head resting comfortably on his hard chest.
Before she disappeared in her dream world, he lifted her head barely and kissed her. Tasting her soft lips. It is so different, he always imagined how it would feel, but it’s better than that. The hint of strawberry on her lips and his rough fingertips against her cheek makes her smile. It was kind of messy considering neither the star girl or the moon lover kissed anyone before.
It was their first kiss.
110 notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 3 months
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being mr. azoff's assistant was y/n's dream job, it was just a bummer that his most beloved client seemed to hate her.
wordcount: 13.5k+
"Did you want anything, Harry? (Y/N)'s about to make a coffee run." 
Although she'd never admit it, (Y/N) held her breath as she fiddled her fingers behind her back, awaiting any response. She already had a good idea of what he would say when he bothered to give an answer, but she still had a tiny hope he'd prove her wrong. 
"No, 'm alright." 
He didn't even raise his head from where it was buried in his phone. Mr. Azoff gave (Y/N) that same polite smile he always did whenever Mr. Styles rejected her services, like he wasn't sure why Mr. Styles wasn't more accepting but it wasn't his place to ask or change the habit. Mr. Azoff treated her right and that was what she tried to focus on, not that the fact his best friend and someone she could consider to be a creative idol, couldn't seem to even give her a moment of his time. 
"Okay, I'll be back in a minute, Mr. Azoff," (Y/N) chirped pleasantly, well versed in how to brush off being brushed off. 
(Y/N) was grateful for the fact her boss's preferred shop was only a few blocks away from his office, giving her the chance to clear her head with fresh (or as fresh as it could be here in L.A.) air instead of stuffing herself into her car. 
Mr. Styles was always like this. Why it still bothered her when he brushed her off or ignored any of her offers of help, she wasn't sure, but it did. That world famous kindness that circulated within the industry as well as what was flung around Twitter had been what she was expecting when she finally made it through the vetting process to be hired as Jeff Azoff's assistant, knowing full well who one of his biggest clients was. She had been realistic, knowing that Harry Styles wasn't going to be her best friend, fawning over her at all times, or suddenly fall in love—this wasn't like those stories she remembers reading when she was young—but she had figured he would give her more than a passing glance the first time she met him. 
Since that first day where he offered a single sentence introduction, she'd been waiting in vain for anything more to happen. More often than not, his conversation would stop when she entered the room or go quiet enough to let her know she wasn't to be included. He gave her plain smiles, not even the hint of a dimple, when he bothered to acknowledge her presence, usually when he would skirt around her to leave the room she'd just entered. She never got a chance to experience firsthand the humor everyone praised, the kindness he all but trademarked as a middle name, or the gentle vulnerability he gave to those who needed it. He could barely even meet her eyes, his gaze moving to his phone or where he plucked at his sleeves or painted nails. 
To be fair, she was still fairly new at the job, only about six months in to her position, so there was a good chance he still needed some warming up after being so used to Mr. Azoff's last assistant that had been employed for years before relocating and leaving the position. Mr. Styles was also known to be shy, something a few others had disclosed to her when they noticed she didn't have much to add whenever he was brought up. Maybe he needed a little more time, and that was something she was more than willing to give, along with the space it seemed he needed.
At least until his European tour started. Then, he would have to at least get used to her presence, seeing as they were to be sanctioned to matching flights, hotels, and backstage areas for the better part of the next three months. She wouldn't be able to give him much space then. Hopefully he wouldn't hate her more after those ninety days together. 
As much as the walk to the cafe and the extra Matcha latte she treated herself with, cleared her head and had her back on her feet after being blown back by the nonchalance paid to her entire existence by someone she felt singled out by, the effect could only last for so long when she entered the office. 
Before pushing the door open, she could hear the voices inside happily chattering away. Mr. Styles' cackling laugh that she was sure had his eyes creasing closed with his head thrown back was the most prevalent noise, something she usually only caught the tail end. As she expected, the second she gave a gentle rapping of her knuckles against the door just before pushing it open, all sound stopped, even Mr. Azoff's chattering trailing off once he realized Mr. Styles was done interacting for the moment. 
"Here you go," she chirped, passing along the coffee to her boss with an unbothered smile that was much stronger than she felt, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" 
"No, no," he shook his head, "Not until this afternoon. Go and enjoy your lunch, (Y/N)." 
She gave a quiet nod of her head, chancing a single look in Mr. Styles' direction. He had his gaze fixed on his hands. A flush clung to his skin, surely a lingering effect of the laughter she had interrupted. 
"Okay, let me know if that changes," she offered with a short smile before turning on her heel.
Just as she left the room, closing the door behind her, she heard Mr. Azoff heave a muffled sigh on the other side. 
"Jeff, please. She jus'—" 
(Y/N) left before she could hear much more. She didn't need to know what Mr. Styles thought about her. 
Despite the buzz filling the terminal, (Y/N) almost couldn't believe the way not a single person had noted Mr. Styles' presence. Not even a single muttering or whisper of his name could be heard in the busy place. 
He sat in peace, a grey hoodie with the strings tied covered his torso, hood up over a pink beanie that concealed his curls. He sat with his legs spread wide, taking up space with his black sweats folded over his legs. Scrolling through his phone, he was in his own world with his chin propped up in his hand, cheek smushed against his ring-bare fingers. He only looked up when boarding was called. 
(Y/N) followed quietly behind the trio of Mr. Styles, her boss, and Mr. Lambert, the tour's stylist. She could hear the tittering and quiet conversation in front of her while other members of production and the team trailed behind her. Without Mr. Azoff's wife joining them just yet for this tour, she didn't have many close friends within this group for the time being. 
It was all a blur, finding her seat on the plane and placing her carryon above. She was the first in her row, huddling close to the window seat. She knew Mr. Azoff was going to join her as soon as he finished doing whatever it was he and the Harry's were doing, so at least she wasn't going to be completely alone. 
Biding her time until take off while the rest of the plane filled up, (Y/N) distracted herself with answering emails on Mr. Azoff's behalf. She verified hotel arrangements, replied to all the correspondence that went along with Mrs. Azoff joining them later in the week, and anything else that needed her attention before takeoff. 
Huddled into her corner of the row, the early call time for the flight began to catch up with her. The emails in front of her couldn't hold her attention against the tiny pillow she had managed to sneak into the backpack she shoved under her seat, the plush sandwiched between her cheek and the sidewall of the plane. The sound of shuffling feet as the rest of the flight filled up was like white noise to her cloud-puffed brain. 
(Y/N) couldn't help herself before she was fluttering her eyes closed. Surely, Mr. Azoff would wake her before takeoff if she really passed out. 
She wasn't sure how long she sat, resting her eyes with her limbs floating in the in-between realm before much of the shuffling ceased and the heft of someone settling in beside her sounded in the empty space. She didn't bother blinking her eyes open, even when she heard chattering beside her. Mr. Azoff was one of the voices, followed by someone who sounded a little too close to her for his comfort. 
"Jeffery..." Mr. Styles sighed. 
"Stop acting like a child, H," her boss scolded, voice stern though he was quiet, "She's asleep, I'm not going to make you talk to her." 
(Y/N) was grateful for the way she had her cheeks mushed between her shoulder and her fluffed pillow. Maybe if she covered them, her seat mates wouldn't be able to feel the embarrassed heat gathering under her skin. 
Mr. Styles was sitting right next to her, she realized when she heard the heavy intake of a breath leave his lungs. She wasn't sure how she'd do it, but it looked like she was going to have to pretend to be asleep all the way to the hotel. Maybe, she could convince everyone she was a very well-organized and direction-following sleepwalker if she was careful. 
That thought didn't last long, (Y/N) having to break her facade at the sound of Mr. Azoff's voice calling to her.
"(Y/N)," he started, speaking around Mr. Styles. He repeated her name a couple of more times, prompting her to mime opening her eyes as if she'd been dead asleep only moments prior before he continued, "We're about to take off." 
"Oh," she smiled, the curve tight, "Thank you." 
If not for the fact she was sure she would die if they knew she had overheard the way Mr. Styles couldn't stand to even sit next to her, she would have hesitated more before she crossed her gaze to the man beside her. His eyes were already on her when she looked at him, expression tight as he seemingly forced a smile in her direction. His back was stiff against the seat, hands twisted in his lap with flaking nail polish. His gaze didn't linger on her for very long before he looked away, just in time for the safety spiel from the steward team.  
Following suit, she followed through the motions of checking her seatbelt, absently locating the exits, and curling into her seat by the time they were cleared for takeoff. She didn't like this part, but it was enough to huddle herself against the back of her seat and brace herself with her hands clenched into the armrest to her right side. 
She sat with her eyes closed, nails digging into the leather of the armrest as she felt the motion beneath her feet, the runway disappearing underneath them until the turbulence of takeoff shook the body of the plane. (Y/N) breathed her way through it, hunkering down into the slouchy fit of her hoodie. 
It wasn't until the turbulence evened out, steady windfall starting in the dark of the early morning, that she felt eyes on her. Without really thinking, she blinked her eyes open only to find Mr. Styles looking to her with something softer painted over his features. 
He didn't immediately flit away when her eyes met his, allowing himself to touch over her features with the warmth of his gaze. His tanned skin still held a buttery warmth even under the draining overhead lights of the cabin, stubble covering the bottom half of his face she'd never seen him grow out until recently. His eye contact was famous around the world, unrelenting though welcoming as it gave her a chance to see the flecks and streaks through the moss of his irises. (Y/N) floundered under his attention, unsure of what to do with something she doesn't think she's ever had before. 
"Um—Did—Or, do you want m-my pillow?" she asked, blindly reaching for the little plush fit between her body and the sidewall. 
At the sound of her voice, Mr. Styles seemed to realize what exactly he was doing and who he was glazing over with his eyes. He shook his head then, curls peeking out from underneath his beanie. 
"No, thank you," he mumbled, reaching into his hoodie pocket to pull out a pair of headphones. 
That was all his attention that she was granted until his headphones were plugged into his ears and she was alone again in her row. 
"And finally, on drums, Sarah Jones!" 
(Y/N) was blown away as the area erupted into cheers she was sure could rival the screams that sounded when Mr. Styles first appeared on stage. She watched on from the mouth of the backstage area, her boss at her side with a drink in hand, as Mr. Styles reveled in the screaming and yelling, a bright dimpled smile on his face. If not for the fact she was technically there in a professional sense and this was only the second show she'd had the privilege of watching, she would have joined in and screamed and cheered for the band that was being introduced. (After getting a chance to meet every moving part of his touring band as well as watching them perform, she very much so understood the enthusiasm offered to these characters).
It was when Mr. Styles joined in on the fanfare, pumping his fist and making a noise that sounded like he was barking along with the crowd that she couldn't hold back her laughter. The layered fringe hanging from his jacket glittered in the light, matching the sheen of sweat that covered his shirtless body. He threw his head back with a bright laugh she almost wished he had the microphone held to his mouth for, just so she could hear what his joy sounded like. 
Even just this moment alone was something she was sure she was always going to remember, no matter how many times she was going to witness this over and over. Never had she been to a concert that held the same energy as these arenas—and eventually stadiums—she'd visited. She couldn't blame a single person in this room for everything they did to get to this place, every moment of planning, saving, celebrating, and crying. She understood. 
Mr. Styles was meant to perform. Even with his brief breaks he spent on movie sets, it was clear why he came back to this space with these people that followed him like honeybees and gave so much love and kindness to him. 
She watched as he finished his introductions of the band, launching into another song that had the whole arena moving and dancing. Even without the help of the spotlight and the cameras following his every move, she was sure she wouldn't be able to keep her eyes from him; he commanded the space, with every intention of taking that attention and thriving under it. 
Despite the relationship—or lack there of—off stage, (Y/N) couldn't wait to see this almost every night for however many months she had the privilege of standing stage side.
"Call me if you need anything!" 
Mr. Azoff shook off (Y/N)'s offer as she started off in the direction of the green room being used as the catering space for the day. A busy morning had ensued, leaving (Y/N) running around trying to find any trace of an adequate wifi connection in the middle of the venue just so she could answer emails and show up to video meetings she was attending on Mr. Azoff's behalf. It wouldn't have been so bad if not for the time differences given the fact she was on a completely different continent than any business she was working with. The stress of it all had her beat before the morning had even touched into the double digits for the day, still with another handful of hours worth of work to get through. 
Finally—finally—she had typed away at every email, fielded every phone call, and spaced out the following day's agenda given the lack of a performance crowding Mr. Azoff's schedule. Now, she could sit down and eat before shuttling back to the hotel for a nap—as long as she wasn't needed for anything else, of course.
The catering space wasn't as busy as she sure it had been an hour prior, only a few others lingering about. One of the few happened to be Mr. Styles. 
A clip was holding his curls back, a plain t-shirt with a pair of basketball shorts covering his legs revealed he had just finished with a workout before he would shower off and get to his soundcheck. He had his phone in hand as he forked food into his mouth, that intense look on his face that she always seemed to catch on him. His brows were knitted heavily in the middle, shrouding the bright green of his eyes in the shadow of his brow with his jaw tight as he chewed down whatever he had picked over from the table. 
(Y/N) flitted her eyes to the rest of the crew littering the space before she was caught by Mr. Styles who seemed to always somehow know when someone had spotted him, even with nothing more than a phone camera. The little whiteboard catering hung above the food table was filled out with the day's menu. The prettily curved words brought a bright smile to (Y/N)'s face when she spotted the forth item down the list. 
The catering team's arancini was easily one of (Y/N)'s favorite things she's ever eaten, on this tour or otherwise. She didn't care that it wasn't more than some risotto rice left over from the night before's dinner, repurposed as to minimize waste and turned into a crunchy, cheesy ball with the perfect acidic marinara served alongside it. If she could, she would live off those little pieces by themselves. Hopefully, there were at least a few left for her to devour, even if they were a little cold at this point. 
Readying her plate with a small serving of Caesar salad and the lemon baked salmon (Mr. Styles' favorite and top request from what she'd heard), (Y/N) worked down the line until she reached the covered basin that held the arancini she easily dreamt of at least five times since the first bite. Lifting the lid, the fresh scent of bright tomatoes and fragrant oregano filled her senses, the bite of the smell hitting her harder with her empty stomach. 
Nothing hit quite as hard on her expectant tummy than the fact she realized only a second too late that there wasn't a single rice ball left in the warmer. A thin layer of remaining sauce was laid along the bottom, but nothing was dropped beside the mushed tomatoes. 
Maybe she was being a little dramatic, but (Y/N) felt her shoulders drop at the sight of the empty container. To be fair, she was almost two hours late to serving time, so she couldn't be that surprised that there wasn't any left to spare. Surely, she wasn't the only one obsessed with the parmesan coating on the outside of the sticky rice. She couldn't blame anyone for jumping on the opportunity to take as many as they could while they were there. 
(Y/N) replaced the lid, taking her half filled plate to one of the small tables set up in the room. The day began to catch up with her as she sat down. Her morning had been hectic enough to suck the energy out of her bones, now combined with the disappointment of how high she put herself at the mention of her favorite food before finding it all gone. She slumped into her chair, taking out her phone and finally looking at something that wasn't work-related for the first time that day. 
Every bite she scooped into her mouth was monotonous as she slipped a pair of earbuds in before screening the missed messages she'd had to ignore for the morning. Music was filtering through her headphones, the perfect distraction to her brain that felt entirely too empty now that she wasn't running at top speed like she had been the second she'd woke up. If not for the texture of each bite she took, she wouldn't know exactly what she was eating with the way she couldn't use even muster the minuscule amount of energy it would take to glance at her fork.  
With her eyes glued to her phone as a video now played out on screen, (Y/N) didn't have enough room in her head to keep track of the rest of the room. As much as she prides herself on being a good assistant, especially being so new to this position, she doesn't think she would notice if Mr. Azoff walked in and screamed out her name while banging pots and pans. 
That was exactly the reason she didn't notice Mr. Styles approaching her table either. 
It wasn't until she noticed a plate being slid onto the table beside her, a hand complete with a tattooed cross and green glittery nails keeping a hold of the lip until she managed to pull an earbud out. Looking up, Mr. Styles still had that tight look on his face, his free hand fidgeting at his side like he was itching to get out of there. 
"Yes?" she chirped, assuming he was finally taking her up on her offers to help him as well when she assisted Mr. Azoff. 
Watching as Mr. Styles dropped his gaze from hers, (Y/N) had to keep from tipping her head at him. That wasn't like him at all, unable to keep eye contact. From what she knew, that was something he insisted on. She hoped he was okay. 
"Um—'M full, but I thought I'd ask if y'wanted any before I threw these away," he said, his voice floating under his breath. 
It was then that (Y/N) finally noted what was on his plate, finding a duo of the arancini balls she had been mourning only moments earlier. The same fragrant, acidic sauce laid underneath it along with shreds of parmesan cheese sprinkled atop, the same way she would have plated it. She had to keep herself from drooling at the sight. 
"A-Are you sure?" 
A beat passed, the green of Mr. Styles' gaze finally meeting hers again. "I thought these were your favorite." 
(Y/N) had to stop herself from letting a pinch touch at her brows. "I mean, yeah, they are, b—" 
"Then, 'm sure." 
The deep vibrato of his voice was more soothing than any note of music she played could ever hope to be, the same voice she'd had the privilege of listening to every night while on the road on the loudspeakers. Despite the giving nature of his tone, underlying softness floating alongside, she knew there wasn't much room to argue. Besides, (Y/N) didn't think she had the strength to say no to his offer with that plate in front of her. 
"Thank you, Mr. Styles," she smiled, reaching for the plate as he retracted his grip. 
A chaste smile curved his lips, the tip of his nose seemingly blushing red before he gave her a quiet nod of his head. He didn't say anything else before he walked away, leaving her to constitute her two plates of food into one with that warmth in her stomach that could have energized her enough to work another hectic morning. Her only complaint was that she wished he would have sat down with her. She'd even give up his offer of the arancini if that meant he'd sit down beside her and finish his meal. 
She didn't see him again until he was leaving the greenroom with a granola bar in hand, one bite already taken out. She had thought he said he was full. 
It was with that thought that, shortly after, (Y/N) realized she had never told Mr. Styles what her favorite food was. 
"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear (Y/N), happy birthday to you!" 
(Y/N)'s skin felt warm with all eyes on her, a sheet cake in front of her with frosting flowers and twinkling candles stuck through. She didn't know what to do with everyone's eyes on her, twisting in her spot with a shy smile on her lips as the song came to a close. Fluttering her eyes to a close, she blew out the candles while everyone cheered. A wish absently flittered through her head, hoping for happiness to come to everyone in this room with her as they deserved so much after surprising her with a birthday celebration in the middle of an international tour. 
"Thank you all, so much," (Y/N) muttered once the room grew quiet, her fingers knotted into a sheepish pile as she swept her gaze across the gathered crowd, "I didn't even realize anyone knew it was my birthday, this really means a lot. Thank you." 
All of her new friends, crew and production members for the tour that she had grown close with over the last few weeks, all gave her mixed mutterings of more birthday wishes, that of course they remembered, and they were all more than happy to be a part of this with her. After the show tonight, they all promised to take her out to one of the clubs in town to help her celebrate before they would be off for the next city the following day. Cutting the cake came next, the grouping of crew began to break off as conversations rose in volume in the green room, leaving (Y/N) to soak in the atmosphere as the creamy icing spread over her tongue at first bite. 
She truthfully had no idea anyone had been aware of her birthday, let alone have the time to put something like this together. Sure, it wasn't a huge celebration, but the fact a cake had been secured, complete with personalized frosting spelling out her name while on the road, was enough to have her heart hurting from how full it was. Even Mr. Styles had made it, huddling himself in one of the small corners with his arms folded across his chest as he sang along to the birthday song. She was pretty sure he had even been a few minutes late to a fitting for the next slew of tour outfits just so he could be apart of something like this for her. 
"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Mr. Azoff said, coming up behind her with his wife only a few paces behind, both with a plate of cake in hands. 
(Y/N)'s features softened immediately as she took him in. "Thank you so much, Mr. Azoff," she started, still disregarding every invitation for her to call him by his first name, "You didn't need to put anything like this together at all. Really, thank you so much." 
He would be the only one that might recall her birthday, she figured, coming from her hire paperwork. Besides, they spent enough time together she may have accidentally let it slip out while talking. Mr. Azoff would definitely be the kind of boss that would do something like this for her. 
Instead of the humble way he swept away her gratitude she had been expecting, her boss let out a bubbling peal of laughter. Mrs. Azoff matched (Y/N)'s confused expression, knitted brows and all as they looked at him. 
"I didn't put this together," he clarified, shaking his head before spearing another bite of cake, "I've been so busy I can't even remember what year it is, let alone the day." 
"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, face dropping. "Do you know who it was then? I just want to thank them properly." 
A shared look happened between the Azoffs, the missus' blonde brows raising in her husband's direction as if she was wondering the same thing. Mr. Azoff gave her a pointed look, flicking his gaze to (Y/N) for only a moment before he raised a brow. Realization seemed to spring across Mrs. Azoff's face, the kind (Y/N) was hoping she could share in. 
"Tell her," Mrs. Azoff mumbled, quiet enough (Y/N) knew she wasn't necessarily meant to hear the command. She watched as Mr. Azoff floundered, his lips pressing into a thin line with wide eyes as if he were pleading with her without words. "Jeffery, I think it would be nice for her to know. He's not going to mind." 
Her reasoning seemed to loosen him up some, only enough to have his gaze returning to (Y/N)'s with a small pivot. "Sorry," he told her, excusing the last few moments with a chaste smile on his lips, "Um—It was Harry. He was the one who remembered and put this all together." 
(Y/N) had to keep her jaw from dropping at the new information. Her fork was limp in her hand. "Really?" 
"Mhm," Mrs. Azoff chirped, "He was the one who came to us, telling us he had everything all planned out, we just needed to be here to surprise you. He did a good job, didn't he?" 
The picture of Mr. Styles standing so nonchalant in the corner of the room, singing quietly to the birthday song while she stood in front of the warm glow of the sparkling candles took on a new tint. This had been all of his idea, even the light pink and warm green frosting spelling out her name with petite flowers on the sheet cake had been his idea. The cake itself was even her favorite flavor, something she was doubting was a coincidence. 
"Really?" she asked, the question feeling dumb on her tongue but she couldn't help but ask. 
"It's all he's been talking about his last couple of days off. He wanted to make sure everyone knew and would be able to come celebrate with you." 
Mrs. Azoff's warm smile along with her boss's quiet curl to his lips was all the confirmation (Y/N) needed to know they were being completely serious. They were acting as if they were sharing a secret with her despite the room full of people that were in on it before she was. 
"Th-That's really nice of him," she settled on, unsure if there were any real words that could convey just how much the idea of Mr. Styles planning this little surprise made her heart ache. "I'm going to have to tell him thank you when he has a minute." 
"I think he'd really like that," Mr. Azoff told her, voice quiet as if he were sharing a tiny secret. 
With the way Mrs. Azoff looked at hm after he spoke, (Y/N) wondered if there really was another secret she wasn't privy to.
Screaming cheers filled the SUV the second the door flung open, Mr. Styles piling inside with a towel hung over his shoulder and a bright smile gracing his features. His energy was vibrating off of him in waves, intoxicating the small space of the car as they pulled out of the venue as the curtains closed behind them. (Y/N) never really got to see him this closely after a show, tonight being an occasion that Mr. Azoff and she were to head back to the hotel with him right away in prep for the late night meetings needed before any of them were to be dismissed to bed (Mr. Styles' next album was coming up closer and closer, and labels needed answers if he wanted the vinyl pressings to be done in time). 
Tonight, (Y/N) was packed into the backseat of the SUV with Mr. Styles, feeling that bright energy he harnessed on stage settling in like another person sitting between them. He used the towel offered to him by security to wipe off his glistening face, sweat soaking the fabric though he didn't stop smiling. 
"Jeff, Jeff," Mr. Styles started, pulling on the neckline of his blueberry embellished top, drawing the fabric away from his skin, "Did you see that back there?" 
She watched as her boss let out a small laugh, turning around where he sat in the front passenger seat to face his client. "See what, H?" 
The smile that broke out on Mr. Styles' face somehow grew bigger. His breathing was still coming in pants, something (Y/N) wasn't sure was coming from his excitement or the lingering exertion from his stage time. "That girl, she was dressed like a clam and her head was the pearl! I think she had a sign too, but I couldn't see it because every time I looked, she was dancing and I couldn't stop laughing." 
"Oh, that's why you could barely finish singing Sushi?" Mr. Azoff pressed, matching Mr. Styles excitement with his own bubbling smile. A small glance was flicked in (Y/N)'s direction, as if she were telling her to get a load of this guy. 
"It was so funny, Jeffery," Mr. Styles insisted, the purple leather of his pants squeaking against the seats with the way he couldn't manage to sit still, "It was like there was a bobblehead out there, but with these little legs." Just when Mr. Azoff went to answer, Mr. Styles completely changed with his jaw dropping before he turned to (Y/N) with another layer of excitement brewing in the car. "Wait, (Y/N)! Did you see that girl dressed like a fairy? She was standing with the angel and the sushi roll!" 
(Y/N) tried to school her features, keep the surprise off her face at the fact Mr. Styles was acknowledging her—and with a smile too! Attempting to focus on the question at hand, she racked her brain for whoever it was that he was referencing. "Maybe. Were they standing in pit?" she asked, settling into the leather of her seat with Mr. Azoff watching on with a less than neutral expression giving away his own shock. 
"Yes, yes," Mr. Styles chattered off, "Towards the exit catwalk! She had on big sparkly wings, and everything!" 
"Oh, yeah," (Y/N) perked up, giving him a matching grin, "That was the same costume—" 
"—you wore for Halloween!" Mr. Styles cut her off to finish her own sentence, bouncing in his seat in time with the rhythm of the pavement underneath the wheels of the car. "That's why I noticed her! Y'had the same wings, and the dress, and everything, right?" 
This time (Y/N) wasn't as smooth to recover at his words. She had been the only one to dress as such for the holiday, and she hadn't thought Mr. Styles had seen her at all in his own rush to be dressed in his own costume and prepping the extra song he was to cover for the occasion. It could have only been twice where she thought he might have seen her, especially as more than a blur that had to run past while doing whatever errands Mr. Azoff needed. 
"Y-Yeah," she bubbled off, pretending she didn't stutter in hopes that no one else would notice, "that was my Halloween costume. I didn't realize you noticed." 
The curls that flopped over Mr. Styles' forehead added to the boyish sparkle in his eyes as he looked at her, dimples denting his cheeks. "Your's was m'favorite costume." 
It was only a second later that Mr. Styles was distracted once more in his adrenaline-fueled post-concert excitement, drawing Mr. Azoff into another bubbling conversation about a moment that happened on stage. (Y/N) was left to settle into her spot, seatbelt tight around her chest as her heart struggled to beat out of its cage. 
If he wasn't careful, (Y/N) was going to start thinking he didn't hate her. 
(Y/N) sidestepped out of the doorway, allowing Mr. Styles to brush past her in his rush to exit the room she'd just entered. He didn't bother to even make eye contact with her or shoot her an awkward smile she'd become accustomed to. All she caught of him was his strained expression as she bounced into the room, feeling much more awake this morning after the bubbling excitement she felt while riding back to the hotel with Mr. Styles being so happy to talk with her. 
That excitement drained as soon as she saw the way he all but flinched at her presence now that the after show adrenaline had worn off. Mr. Azoff seemed just as surprised at the blatant switch as he watched Mr. Styles run off. 
"Uh—Good morning, Mr. Azoff," (Y/N) attempted to chirp out.
She could see the way he floundered for words, his eyes flicking between her and Mr. Styles' retreating figure she was forcing herself to keep from glancing at. "(Y/N), I—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," she waved him off, doing her best to convince herself with her own excuse, "He's probably still tired from last night, it's okay." 
The look on Mr. Azoff's face told her he knew something she didn't. (Y/N) figured it was a secret she didn't want to know. 
This had to be the first time (Y/N) had ever seen Mr. Azoff so stressed, especially after setting out on this tour with his favorite client. His hair was a mess with the usual day's worth of stubble on his face now growing into almost a full beard with the way the last few days have come stumbling around him. Near constantly did he have a phone pressed to his ear, preferring to take all of these phone calls as opposed to allowing (Y/N) to take care of them like he had so far in this route. 
"We don't know if he's going to be able to make it on this Friday," she heard Mr. Azoff sigh into the receiver, dragging a heavy hand through his hair. Mrs. Azoff looked just as glum as she listened into the conversation from the small couch that was set up in the living space of their hotel room. "I know—we're trying. He's barely been able to get out of bed since he got off stage last night, we haven't started on the road at all." 
(Y/N) felt concern spike in her chest at the mention of Mr. Styles' state. She knew he wasn't doing so well after last night, especially with how hard he had to start straining himself towards the end of the show just to hit notes she knew would otherwise be easy for him. What she hadn't known was the fact he didn't have the strength to even get out of bed. She'd hate for him to have caught the same flu that one of the crew members had suffered through just a couple of weeks earlier. 
"We don't want to cancel or reschedule anything, yet, no," Mr. Azoff rushed out, sinking into the couch cushion beside his equally as exhausted wife, "We have a few days still, so we'll see if he feels any better by Thursday. If not, I'll call you with options." 
It was only moments later that Mr. Azoff hung up the call, looking just as exhausted as he started the call. Seeing as how it was Tuesday, and Mr. Styles had only a few days left to be feeling better in time to even travel for his next show, she could understand his stress. 
Before (Y/N) could even offer her services, Mr. Azoff said her name with a lingering exhaustion. "Could you call one of those liquid IV offices, please? And get his doctor on a call; if he needs antibiotics, I want them picked up by the end of the day." 
Very few times did Mr. Azoff feel like a boss, always talking to her in gentler tones with requests rather than demands. Not that he was flexing any superiority and unforgiving directions even now, but she knew this was something he needed done thirty minutes ago, but was still willing to accept it being done now. 
That was all she needed to hear before she had her phone pressed to her ear. Even if Mr. Styles didn't care for her as much as she may have thought a week ago, she wanted him better just as much as Mr. Azoff did, and not just because of the touring schedule. 
How (Y/N) happened to be the only one within the central crew to have been vaccinated for the flu this season, she didn't know, but she didn't mind the added responsibility tied with the booster. Armed with a takeaway container of hot soup, a liter bottle of water, and another round of medication for Mr. Styles, Mr. Azoff sent her off to his hotel room. 
Mr. Styles had all but been quarantined since he started exhibiting those early flu symptoms, a medical team having been the ones tending to him the previous couple of days as he apparently worsened into running a fever and getting sick to his stomach. It was into the late hours of the evening that Mr. Azoff finally shooed them off (at his client's request, supposedly. Mr. Styles felt bad to have so many people fussing over him, he had said), and thanked them for everything they did for his client. They were left with the tools and a regiment on the best and fastest way to get Mr. Styles healthy again. She remembered watching Mr. Azoff read over the extensive list left in his care, a humorless laugh leaving his lips and he muttered something about the miracle of this week being one of the longer breaks he had scheduled between shows. 
As the crew couldn't afford anyone else getting as sick as Mr. Styles was, (Y/N) was chosen to be the first one to tend to him given the fact she would be the least likely to catch whatever virus he had—and even if she did, they could afford to have her on bed rest for a few days. Mr. Azoff had passed along the printed schedule of his medication times and what foods and fluids would be best to get his system back on track in the remaining forty-eight hours left until a decision would have to be made on whether or not the next show was in jeopardy, and she was on her way. 
An apology was ready on her tongue for the second she breached the sanctuary of his hotel room, knowing that she was most likely one of the last people he wanted to see at a time like this. That was the hardest part, she figured. She wasn't afraid of falling ill or seeing him sick, it was knowing just how unwelcome she was going to be in his space, especially since he wouldn't be able to flitter away from her like she knew he was used to. But, that fear was going to have to be shoved into a box in the back of her mind. Mr. Styles wasn't feeling well and needed someone to help him, and that was what she was going to focus on. 
After a quiet rap of her knuckles against his hotel room door went expectedly unanswered, (Y/N) pulled for the keycard Mr. Azoff had slipped into the bag of essentials he'd passed off to her. As soon as the handle clicked with a green light blinking, she twisted the knob carefully. A quiet creak whined from the hinges as she entered the dark room. 
Mr. Styles' messy bed was empty, the only light coming from the dimly set bedside lamp revealing the creases and folds in the bedding she was sure housekeeping hadn't had a chance to come by and change since he'd been holed up in the space. His luggage was left neatly beside the closet, only a pair of brightly colored socks laid atop the case letting her know it had been touched in the last few days. If not for the fact she knew there was no where else for him to have gone without someone on his team being notified, (Y/N) would have assumed his hotel room to be deserted by the way the air felt stale as she stepped in. 
"Mr. Styles? It's (Y/N). I know you probably don't wan—" 
Before she could finish her apology for stepping into his space, a gagging noise from the bathroom gave away his position. That was when she noticed the sliver of light leaking from underneath the closed door. 
Rolling her lips between her teeth with concern knitting her brows together, (Y/N) abandoned her doctor assembled and boss ordered care package on the bedside table. It was with shaking hands that she gently knocked on the bathroom door. 
A groan answered a beat later. "Jeff, I promise 'm going to be alright in a couple of days," Mr. Styles grumbled out, voice deep and sour, "Don't cancel anything, please." 
Releasing the hold her teeth had on her bottom lip, (Y/N) sucked in a deep breath. "Actually, it's (Y/N)." 
"W-What are y'doing here?" was his stuttered response, raw voice leveling out in volume. 
Not quite as biting as she may have expected in a moment like this, but (Y/N) had figured he would ask something of this type. "I'm the only one that's had my flu shot, so Mr. Azoff wanted me to come check on you. Is it alright if I come in?" 
"Please, don't." That was the clipped response she had been anticipating, but (Y/N) thought his tone dipped into something more embarrassed than angry. 
"Mr. Styles, I have water and food, and the medication you'r—" 
Before she could get much further with her explanation, she was cut off by the sound of a guttural noise on the other side of the door. Mr. Styles gagged alone in the bathroom, his panting breaths being cut off only to be replaced with the sound of him getting sick. 
As much as (Y/N) wanted to respect his privacy and foster a kinder relationship between the pair of them, there was no way she was going to be able to sit idly by knowing that she could help him when he so clearly needed some support. That was all it took for her to barge into the bathroom, rushing over the tiles to where Mr. Styles was hunched over the toilet. 
Focusing herself on him and not what was currently leaving his system, (Y/N) stroked her hand down his back while the other worked on drawing his hair out of his face. A stray clip was fit against the top of his head, a sloppy attempt she was sure he had executed with shaking hands. 
"(Y/N), no," he stuttered over her name until she felt a shudder rack his spine, his head being sent back to the toilet bowl as another round of sickness left his body. 
She didn't say anything back, knowing not only would it fall on deaf ears, but this wasn't the time to start pleading with him to let her stay. That wasn't up for debate as far as she was concerned; whether he liked it or not, she wasn't going to leave him to be sick all by himself in a hotel room in a country he didn't call home. Nothing sounded more dreadful than that. 
Instead, she only shushed him and lead a soothing hand down his spine with her other hand fixing his hair from his face. The strands had lost their curl after a few days without wash, matching the stale texture of his clothes that she was sure he hadn't changed out of in just as long. Having heard about how heavily he prioritized his self-care, especially when touring, she knew he really must feel terrible if he couldn't bring himself to do any of those basic things. 
Nonetheless, she stayed a constant, steady presence beside him on the bathroom floor. She tucked baby curls behind his ears, the strands too short to reach clip on the top of his head, and she shushed him with a gentle hand on his back as he emptied his system before being reduced down to dry heaves and gags resulting in nothing more than stolen breath and teary eyes. 
"It's okay, Mr. Styles, just breathe," she reminded him as he reached to flush the toilet, his breathing coming in rapid pants through his raw throat. 
"Don't call me that," he panted, sitting back on his heels though he still didn't care to turn to face her, "I don't like it when y'call me that." 
"Okay, okay," she soothed, the same word having fallen from her lips at least a hundred times at this point, "What do you want me to call you? What do you like better?"
"Jus' H, please. Want y'to talk to me like y'know me." 
Her heart just about broke at how pathetic he sounded in that moment, his request just short of a whine given his burned throat. "Okay, I can do that," she agreed with a gentle pat to his back. "I'm going to be right back, alright? I brought you some water for you to sip on." 
Before (Y/N) could even get to her feet, Mr. S—Harry—H twisted in his spot and raced to wrap his fingers around her wrists. He kept her from going any further with his manacle-like grip, bloodshot eyes glossy in the low light of the bathroom. "Wait, please. I-I don't want to be alone if I get sick again." 
As much as she knew it was against her better judgment to leave the liter of water out in the bedroom, there was no way she could argue against him when he looked at her like that. And, for the first time ever, he was pleading with her to stay with him, not fighting for a way out of her presence. How could she say no to that?
"Okay, I'll stay a few minutes longer, but I need to have you drinking something soon," she reasoned, settling back down onto the tile floor. She crossed her legs underneath her, opting for something more comfortable than the cuffs of her knees digging into the hard floor as she was prepared to sit there for as long as Harry needed her (or until she could convince him of the importance of water right now). 
Harry all but deflated with relief at her words, slumping into her arms in a way that had (Y/N) doubting he knew he was doing. Another sign of just how bad he was feeling then—he'd never seek comfort in her like this otherwise. Nonetheless, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around him without question, cushioning her back against the wall of the bathroom behind her while Harry's clumsy limbs found purchase around her. He shuffled up beside her with legs folded underneath him, his bottom on his heels. He was close enough to the toilet incase of an emergency, but his knees still knocked into hers with his arms around her waist, face tucking into the curve of her throat. 
"Thank you," he murmured into her neck once he burrowed himself against her skin, his forehead clammy. 
"Of course," she told him, her arms around his middle with her palms spanning the planes of his back. "Has it been like this all day?" 
"Mhm," he practically whined, his nose scrunching against her skin, "I hate it. I hate being sick. I jus' want to be better already." 
(Y/N) held him tighter the second she felt wetness slide over her skin, moreso than the sheen of sweat that covered his forehead. He was crying. That gloss that had lacquered his gaze had overflown, now leaking over her skin and pooling in the line of her collarbones. "I know, H, I know," she crooned to him, forcing herself to stay composed despite how much her heart ached for him then, "I brought stuff for you that's supposed to help you feel better. Do you want to try taking some medicine or drinking some water?" 
"I don't think I can keep it down," he told her, voice watery as he spoke, "'M sorry." 
"No, don't be sorry, okay?" she gently scolded him, shaking her head as she brought her hand up to card through the length of the curls on the back of his head. 
"I jus' want to be better, (Y/N)," he repeated earnestly, a sniffle following right after to match the wiggle of his nose she felt against her skin. She wanted to be endeared at the small touch but that was quickly outweighed by the concern she felt the second another wave of tears washed over her skin, Harry's breathing shifting until she feared he would start sobbing. 
"And you will be," she promised, hugging him tighter with her fingers lacing through his hair, "You need to give yourself a little more time, okay? Sleep a little more, and once you're up to it, we'll have you eating and drinking again and you'll be feeling so much better. I promise." 
Harry tensed in her arms before could finish his thought. A scramble of limbs ensued then, leaving (Y/N) feeling the absence of his warmth while he hunched over the toilet and threw up the nonexistent contents of his stomach. (Y/N) was behind him in a rush, rubbing his back and cooing to him as he began to dry heave, only bile leaving his system now. 
It was (Y/N) this time that flushed the toilet down for him after a few minutes of nothing else triggering his gag reflex, proceeding to gather him back into her arms once he was settled enough to unlock his joints and allow his muscles to go malleable again. 
"It's alright, H—" 
"See?" he cut her off, voice particularly raw after his latest showing, "'M not getting better, (Y/N). I jus' want to be better and-and play a show and I do-don't want to let anyone down." 
"You're not letting anyone down," she cemented, relaxing into the stiff sidewall of the tub as he tucked himself into her warmth one more time with his face in her neck.
"I've heard Jeff talking about cancelling or rescheduling shows," he mumbled, a sniffle following after, "I don't want to do that. S-So many people travel jus' to see me, and 's be-been so long an—" 
Harry was cut off by his own crying, the stress of the situation along with the just how awful he felt in that moment catching up to him now that someone was there to listen. His grip on her tightened with his arms around her waist and his face buried in her neck, his chest stuttering with his uneven breaths and squeezes of his sobbing lungs. 
All she could do then was hold him against her, as if her hug could keep him from shaking so hard with his heady breaths. Her neck was slick with his tears, the tip of his nose wiggling with every sniffle he sucked in in hopes of regulating his breathing.
"Its okay, H, really," she cooed to him, drawing one of her hands up to the back of his head with her fingertips twirling through the curls, "You need to stop crying, okay? You're only making yourself more sick by crying, you know. Just breathe, alright? It's going to be okay, I promise." 
Though it took him a moment, she could feel the way he tried to heed her advice. He fought off the stutter of his sobs, his breathing coming out in shaky pulls with the exhales being long and drawn out over her skin. Her palms soothed down his spine, the length of her nails dragging over his shirt in what she hoped was calming runs. 
"Feel a little better now?" she asked once he curated a rhythm of deep breaths and sinking exhales. Though she could feel just the smallest remnants of his tears having seeped against her neck, she didn't feel that dampness growing as opposed to the way it was only a few moments earlier. 
"Y-yeah," he mumbled, nodding his head against her neck, "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, okay?" she told him, parroting her earlier words, "There's nothing to be sorry for. No one likes being sick, and I know you're under a lot of pressure since we're also on the road. It's okay." 
A nasally little thank you sounded against her neck along with the brush of his lips being felt against her throat. A small smile touched at the corners of her lips as she felt him relax into her, exhaustion weighing him down now that he wasn't clinging to the edge of the toilet. (Y/N) tentatively laid her cheek on the top of his head, lending him more of her warmth in hopes of holding off another wave of his fever. 
Just when she figured he'd fallen asleep, his breathing even with puffs of air fanning over her skin, he pulled his face from her neck. Harry's cheeks were flushed as he looked to her, ruddy and glistening with a sheen of sweat. His eyes were puffy and red, the scleras bloodshot from his crying session. Even his lips were swollen, the same hue as his red-tipped nose. 
"Can I have some water?" he asked her pathetically, voice nasally given his clogged sinuses, "And a blanket. 'M really cold." 
(Y/N) nodded her head right away, feeling her eyes rounding out as she took him in with pity in her gaze. "I'll be right back, okay?" she told him, brushing stray curls behind his ears. 
Harry gave her another sad look, mimicking the nod of her head. "Thank you," he told her before tucking his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. 
She made quick work of collecting the liter of water she'd put off to the side along with the knitted blanket that was bundled over the hotel bed. She knew that was something he'd brought from home, an item she'd seem him cart around to every venue and every hotel room to help him feel more at home despite the miles between. Hopefully it would be just what he needed in that moment. 
Stepping into the bathroom, Harry was just where she had left him. He was bundled beside the bathtub, his legs now bent in front of him to make himself into a small ball with his arms around his shins. His glossy eyes seemed to widen at the sight of his blanket, completely glancing over the water in her opposing hand in favor of reaching for his token from home. 
"Thank you so much," he repeated, grabby hands taking the knitted blanket as soon as she offered it to him.
Despite his aching limbs, the blanket was wrapped around Harry's shoulders in quick succession, the fabric being pulled up to his face with a finger wrapped in the material from underneath absently rubbing against his cheek. He soothed himself enough to have his eyes flutter to a close as (Y/N) settled in beside him, taking her spot against the bathtub wall with her legs criss-crossed underneath her bottom. 
"Still want some water?" she asked in a crooned tone, hoping to keep from disturbing him too much from the sweetened state he was falling into.
"Yes, please," he murmured, eyes still closed. 
Twisting off the cap of his water, (Y/N) offered it to him with a nudge against his shoulder. Harry begrudgingly untangled his hand from the knit of his blanket, taking the bottle with his eyes opened to only a slit. 
"Only take sips, H," she told him as he raised the bottle to his lips, "Any more and it might make you sick again." 
"But 'm so thirsty," he whined, brows pinching together in the middle. 
"I know, but if you drink too fast it'll make you sick again," she reasoned with him, scooting in closer to him with her arm pressing against his own, "Just sip it for now and if you can keep it all down tonight, you can drink all the water you want." 
Heaving a sigh, he gave a nod of his head as he heeded her advice and took small sips from his bottle. (Y/N) kept an eye on him as he drank, watching for any turn of the tide that would garner her helping him back to the toilet bowl. By the time he finally seemed satiated, handing her the bottle in search of the cap to be fixed back on top, he sunk down and lent his cheek against her shoulder. His eyes were shuttered closed once more, his hand working its way back under the knit of his blanket to press the material against his cheek again. 
"Tired?" (Y/N) murmured, maneuvering to wrap her arm around his shoulders and cuddle him close. 
"Yeah," he said, voice cracking some under the pressure of his raw throat. 
"Here," she said, shuffling in her spot to move just far enough away from him to get a whine filtering through his throat. Uncrossing her legs, she unfurled them in front of her with her ankles folding over one another, "Lay down, H, its okay. You can put your head in my lap." 
He seemed calmed at the prospect of her only moving so he could more comfortably. With his legs curled against his tummy into a ball, Harry laid his head in her lap, her plush thighs acting as his pillow. "Thank you," he sighed, nasally voice quietly bouncing off the tiles. 
"When you wake up we'll take some medicine, okay?" she told him, placing her hands in his hair as she unclipped the sprout she'd made with the strands to card through his curls. 
All she earned in response was a quiet okay, leaving him to fall asleep only moments later. 
Sinking against the sidewall of the bathtub, (Y/N) let her own eyes close. Cuddling with Mr. Styles was definitely not how she saw this morning going. She was going to have to text Mr. Azoff to let him know not to expect her for the rest of the day. 
Humming to acknowledge the call of her name, (Y/N) continued to clean up the little medication station she made up on his bedside table now that each of the pills were in his system. She was going to have to call up for another large water bottle for him now that there was less than a fourth of the liter left. And, probably another serving of hot soup since that had been forgotten hours earlier, going cold. 
"'M sorry," Harry said behind her, the warmth of his glossy gaze being pinned on her back. 
"You don't need to be sorry, remember?" she said to him, constituting all of his orange and white bottles back into the small pack the medical team had prepared as she gave him a small glance over her shoulder. "No one is upset with you; it's not your fault you're sick, we all know that." 
"No," he croaked, shaking his head against the fluffed pillow, "That's not what 'm talking about." 
"Oh?" she asked, settling into the nest of bedding she'd made her own since they carted him back to bed after his nap. He hadn't been sick for hours at this point, the main concern shifting to fend off the fever that was sapping his energy and drawing a fog over his brain. 
As soon as he saw her close once more, Harry made a move to lay his head in her lap again. It was instinctive at this point to have her hands carding through his hair, pulling the strands from his flushed skin. This time though, Harry looked up at her with his slightly hooded gaze, a touch unfocused despite the fact he'd been awake for the better part of the last hour. 
"'M sorry 'm so mean to you," he breathed, a sheen collecting over his eyes as he took her in, "You're taking care of me, and I don't deserve it." 
(Y/N) felt like a deer in headlights with his tired gaze on her. This was definitely not how she ever saw this conversation going—if this conversation ever happened, anyway. She floundered for words as she shook her head, distracting him with a particularly drawn out run of her fingers through his curls. 
"Don't say that, okay? What you don't deserve, is staying alone in a hotel room while you're sick," she murmured, "But, you don't need to worry about that right now, okay? You don't need to apologize for anything." 
To be fair, she never really considered his behavior mean. He avoided her, sure, but he was never blatantly rude to her. 
"No, no," he shook his head in her lap, "'M so mean to you 's not fair. I-I barely even talk to you, and you're still taking care of me. 'M sorry, (Y/N)." 
"Harry, really, I don't think you're mean, ok—" 
"I jus' don't know how to talk to you, (Y/N)," he continued as if he hadn't heard a single word she said, "'S so hard to talk to you, and-and m'brain hurts when I try to think about it." 
Canting her head as she gazed down at him, she dropped one of her hands from his hair only to skate over the planes of his face. She traced over the height of his cheekbone, and brushed the length of his lashes before she grazed the bridge of his nose. "It's okay, Harry," she soothed him, watching as his eyes fell closed, "It's okay to be shy. I know Mr. Azoff's last assistant was really close to you, it's fine if we're not there yet. We'll get there someday, right?"
"No," he whined, drawing out the syllable as he peeked his eyes open, "'S not like that—not like with Mallory, (Y/N). I like y'so much that m'brain doesn't work around you. It wasn't like that at all with Mallory—I didn't have a crush on her." 
(Y/N) was thankful for the cover of his illness to keep him from fully noticing her reaction to his confession. While it was sweet the way he described his feelings—a crush, he'd said—that had to have been at the very bottom of the list of reasons she would have thought up as to why he behaved the way he did around her. What was she supposed to say to something like that? How was she supposed to take it given the fact that this could be nothing more than one of his delirious ramblings given the state of his fever? 
"I can't believe 'm telling you like this," he muttered, eyes fluttered closed in a tight pinch as he turned in her lap. He faced the soft of her tummy, his arms wrapping around her middle as he nosed at the fabric of her top. "I smell like vomit and I haven't washed m'hair for four days, 'm sorry." 
A quiet sigh left her lips as she carded her fingers through his hair, the unwashed curls slipping between her fingers. "It's okay, Harry. Don't worry about any of that right now, okay? We can talk about that later, but you need to focus on getting better right?" 
"Right," he peeped, voice slowing and dredging deeper into sleep, "And you'll stay with me?"
Her answer was automatic, "Of course. I'll be here to take care of you, I promise." 
It was only moments later he was asleep again, face tucked against her tummy while (Y/N) was wide awake. 
(YN) woke with a stiff neck to the sound of the shower running, still wrapped up in Harry's bedding though now she had his knitted blanket draped over her form. The side of the bed she had slipped him into once she was too tired to stay awake was now cold, only the impression of his body on the sheets giving away his presence. 
Blinking her dry eyes, she tried to get her bearings after the long night she'd had tending to her boss's favorite client, along with every rambling confession he woke up in the middle of the night to share. 
He apparently thought her hair was very pretty, wanted to share clothes with her, and thought she had a cute laugh. Though, those were only the confessions she could decipher in his sleepy, nasally voice. 
She was still clothed in the outfit she'd donned the morning before, her phone waiting with a handful of texts from Mr. Azoff asking about Mr. Styles' state and if there was anything the pair of them needed now that (Y/N) had taken on the role of nursing him back to health for the time being. She pushed those messages off to the side at the moment, instead trying to untwirl her brain now that she had a moment alone without Mr. Styles' health at the front of her mind. 
He liked her, he'd said—he had a crush on her even. That was why he didn't have it in himself to hold a conversation with her, too shy to speak to her without making an ass of himself. The thought made her heart flutter, a fact she couldn't deny especially after she realized the smile on her face when she recalled his exact words. 
Despite the fact his kindness didn't always extend to her in the obvious ways, thinking back, she realized the signs were there. He remembered her birthday and put together an impromptu party that he couldn't even properly attend. He remembered her Halloween costume even though he was running around all day, preparing for one of the biggest shows of the year. He paid attention to her; he listened for her favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite books. While he was too shy to talk to her about those things directly, he still went out of his way to find them out and keep them to himself. 
It was easier for her since she knew she got this job to send her own feelings packing, out of her head and her heart before she could find herself in trouble with an infatuation with her boss's favorite client and best friend. That fact grew even more important as soon as Harry started behaving the way he did around her, but now that she had that glimmering confession, the tender explanation, it was hard to keep those feelings from marching right back in. All those months that she had to school herself into knocking away the melancholy at the fact that one of her inspirations didn't seem to like her now were turned in a new light, trying to see those same moments from Harry's point of view. 
How many times had she thought she felt his eyes on her, only to turn and find him looking the other direction? Had she really been only a second too late to catch his gaze? Every time she had chattered away with a member of the crew or Mr. Azoff himself, with Harry scrolling through his phone distractedly had he really been listening in and collecting information he was too scared to ask for? Or even the times he had dropped his gaze when she met his, the blushing hue to his skin now could be out of sheepish affection and not the need to get away from her as soon as possible. 
She hadn't been invisible to him, or even a negative presence in his day-to-day, she was piecing together. He thought of her the same way she thought of him. What a heart-stopping thought. 
(Y/N) jumped in her spot, the bedsheets rustling around her denim-clad legs at the sound of Harry's rumbling voice. Dropping back into the moment, she saw him standing just outside the bathroom door, luggage at his feet as he packed away the clothing he would need sent off to be washed before they were on their way to the next destination. A quiet smile was on his lips, a shy shifting to his gaze that kept him from meeting hers. His socked feet dug into the plush carpet on the floor, legs folded over in a pair of heavy black sweats along with a crewneck from his brand that hadn't been released to the public just yet. His hair was damp and dark, finally washed after the few days she was sure it had been bothering him.
"Morning," she chirped back, finding her voice, "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he mused, running a hand through his damp hair, "Finally getting to actually sleep last night helped a lot, I think. I took the medicine y'left on the table, and took a shower and I'm really feeling a lot better."
"Good, that makes me happy. Now, you can sleep all day and actually eat something instead of laying on the bathroom floor." (Y/N) felt proud of herself when she caught sight of the dimples denting his cheeks as he huffed out a quiet laugh.
A beat of silence passed between them as Harry finally dropped the guise of rifling through his bag to face her. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweats, he toed at the ground as he looked at her through the fan of his lashes. 
"Um, thanks for taking care of me and everything yesterday, (Y/N)," he drawled, a pinch touching between his brows, "I really, really appreciate it. 'M sure it wasn't easy. My mum says I always get whiny when 'm sick, so..." 
"You weren't that bad," she told him with a gentle smile, crossing her legs underneath herself from where she sat on the bed, "I used to babysit when I was in college, and you are definitely not as bad as some of the kids I used to help."
"Great," he laughed with a playful roll of his eyes, "'m not as bad as a child. I'll have to tell my mum, that'll show her." 
After the short peals of laughter died down, silence filled in for their voices. Was she supposed to say something? Did he want her to say something? Or was what was said last night meant to stay right there—in the evening hours, in the brain fog that came along with his fever?
"Listen," he said, swallowing hard as he finally met her gaze head on, "'M really sorry about yesterday. I know I said a lot of things, and 'm really sorry if I made y'uncomfortable or anything. I-I don't know why I said any of that, honestly." 
Fighting the urge to drop her own gaze as she'd seen him do so many times before, (Y/N) kept herself focused on him, following the small droplets of water that clung to his forehead from his damp curls. "You didn't make me uncomfortable," she said, "But—um—di-did you mean it? What you said? About being shy and everything because of... me?"
Another harsh swallow had his throat bobbing, the green of his eyes disappearing for just a moment as he blinked towards the ceiling before returning. "I mean, yeah. I did mean it. I never wanted to tell y'like that, though, that's for sure. I know y'were being nice, but I definitely did smell like vomit and you're a saint for sitting there and letting me talk like a crazy person all night. I don't even know how you found time to sleep with me constantly bothering you."
"You weren't bothering me," she said, a smile cracking her features now that she realized there was no catch to his confession. There was no reason to quash the happiness filling her chest. "I thought it was really sweet what you were saying to me. It was nice to hear all of that stuff, especially since I was pretty sure you didn't like me just two days ago."
He clenched his eyes shut at her finishing words. "I really am sorry about that, I hope you know," he said with a heady sigh, "I wish I had a better explanation, but really, you jus' make me nervous." 
"It's okay," she waved off, shuffling towards the edge of the bed closest to him without much thought, "You make me nervous, too—I get it." 
"I do?" he asked, a boyish smile touching at his features while his eyes seemingly sparkled in the low light. 
"I mean, yeah," she revealed, a duh tone to her words, "Why do you think it's always so hard for me to talk to you?" 
Harry took slow steps towards the edge of the bed, his socked feet dragging through the plush carpet. "But you're always so—," he trailed off, flicking his hands out in front of him with a flourish, "Everywhere, I guess. Talking to everyone and laughing. I don't think I've ever seen y'nervous." 
"Well, I don't like everyone else the way I like you, so I don't get nervous like that. It's harder to talk to you when all I want is to say the right thing." 
Before she even realized it, Harry was stood right in front of where she was sat on the edge of the bed. He towered over her with warmth radiating from his chest, the heat much more pleasant than the fever he was running the night before, especially when he looked at her so sweetly with his big eyes. It was in slow movements that he brought his hands out and settled them on her wrists, only to trail down to lace his fingers between hers. When she didn't pull away or make any sound of protest, she felt him squeeze her hands. 
"I like hearing y'talk. Y'have a pretty voice," he murmured, his voice just a touch deeper than normal given the last week of his life. 
"I like your voice too," she beamed up at him, "Why do you think I'm always out there during the shows?" 
"Because, Jeff makes you?" he teased, shyly dropping her gaze to where their hands were bundled between them. 
(Y/N) shook her head, adjusting her position on the bed to sit with her bottom on her heels and her legs folded underneath her. "I like listening to you sing and talk to everyone. You're amazing on stage. It's my favorite part of being on the road with everyone—getting to see you every night like that." 
He keened under her praise, canting his head as he squeezed her hands. Dimples dented his cheeks as he looked to her. "Thank you," he murmured, the blunt ends of his front teeth sinking into his bottom lip once he got his gratitude out. 
Looking at him like this, feeling the strength of his hands and the heat of his skin all the while he looked at her so tenderly had (Y/N)'s heart racing. How was this real?" 
Dropping her eyes to his lips, the raspberry color just a bit drained from his illness though he wasn't any less appealing. She spoke without thought as her stayed stuck on his mouth, "Can I kiss you?" 
She watched as a smile grew on his lips at her words. "I—uh—'M sick, remember?" he protested less than half-heartedly. 
"I got my flu shot, remember?" 
That was all the convincing it took to have Harry dropping her hands from his, only to then cradle the soft of her cheeks in his hands. His lips slotted against hers in a tender press, allowing her to taste the clean mint of his toothpaste and whatever scented chapstick he'd swiped over his pout. She didn't even have time to think about the fact she was still wearing her clothes from the day before with unbrushed hair and unwashed skin, not with the way he was holding her and pressing into her mouth for more. It was as unhurried of a kiss as it was wanting, making up for the lost time that had been wasted over the past few months. 
The contact remained innocent, only sweet presses of their lips growing more and more delicate until Harry pulled away just to press a smattering of kisses against her pout. His actions drew a laugh from her chest, her hands reaching for his shirt as he kissed her smiling mouth. 
"We don't have to leave for the venue until tonight, right?" he asked, slightly breathless though he matched her smile tenfold. (Y/N) nodded her head still in his delicate grip, the pad of his thumb sweeping under her eye. "We should probably leave for a little and let housekeeping clean up a little, but 'm still really tired," his gaze flickered over hers, his smile growing that much more at whatever he found in there, "Could we go back to your room? We don't have to do anything"—that had his cheeks blushing—", but I don't want to sleep alone again after this."
That was all (Y/N) needed before she was dragging him down the hall to her hotel room, following right after him into her unused, plush bed. It was instinct at this point the way he cuddled up to her, face in her neck with his nose pressed to her pulse. All she felt was a press of his lips to the curve of her throat before he was asleep again, leaving (Y/N) the time to send Mr. Azoff a message. 
Harry was fine, she told him, but he'd probably need another day of rest and looking after. A job she was more than willing to continue to take on. She'd tell him the full story later, she decided, especially after he saw the room service charges for double meals to her room.
I got a request for something like this a super long time ago so thank you to whoever requested for being so patient! thank you so much for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if anyone has any ideas or requests of your own pls pls send them in !
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gucciwins · 2 months
Gala After Gala
Harry didn’t know that one moment with Y/N would change his life. 
Word count: 28,920 (no joke)
A/N: hi amores! this has been something i have been working on for months. this is older harry and I can honestly say i've poured my heart into this piece.  special mention to @matildashoney who was just an amazing support as i worked on this on and off. thank you for being patient with me friends! 💜
i hope you enjoy, my loves. buckle in, grab your waters and happy reading!
Warnings: slow burn!!!!! (it’s worth it), angst, fluff, smut (female pleasure) 
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Another gala. Another check to write.
Harry has to remind his assistant to stop accepting these invitations for him. Next time he’ll mail a check out instead. He had finished buttoning his velvet maroon coat as he handed off his keys to the valet for the hotel. The doorman guided him down the entry leading him to the extravagant ballroom.
To no surprise, the venue was decorated beautifully. There seemed to be a common theme of gold and flowers. At every turn, he saw a waiter with a boutonniere in their left pocket. The tablecloth shimmered under the dimmed lights, unlike the usual cheap fabric he saw at other events. For food, appetizers were lined up in the back with small places and forks to the side so one could serve themselves to their liking. Dinner was set to start in an hour once most of the guests arrived.
Harry mingled with a drink in his hand, not bothering to force a smile, he had the displeasure of knowing most of the people in attendance, and he can’t say he’s the biggest fan of them. They all had one thing on their mind: money. None of them cared about the cause for tonight, Harry included. All they were there for was to flaunt their money and see who could donate the most, and by the looks of it, Old man Tommy was looking to take the win by how aggressively he was signing his checkbook.
Dinner went surprisingly well. The music was a classical band that didn’t play pretentious music Harry was used to. They also didn’t play covers of pop songs. It was clear that the band had worked a long time with each other because they created beautiful melodies people could enjoy around conversation but also dancing. He never took part in the dancing, finding it tacky, and for the first time since he started attending gala’s, he was filled to the brim because the food was actually good. He cleaned his plate of the salmon he was offered.
After their meal, he knew he had to mingle, so he found an old friend Mr. Horan who he occasionally saw and invited out for a game of golf. He wouldn’t call him a friend, but he made decent company when Harry reached out. The Irish lad could hold his liquor and his jokes weren’t bad, not that Harry would ever let Niall know.
He wasn’t listening to the conversation around him. They were going on about the growth in their companies, and it was laughable. Not that he’d tell them, he wasn’t in the mood to step on their fragile egos.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Harry turns to find a young-looking waiter holding a tray with a single drink.
“Yes?” Harry asked in a bored tone.
“Lady in the black dress sent you this drink.” He nods at a woman standing at the bar's end in red heels. He couldn’t see the designer, but he knew they had to be expensive with the gloss they had on them. He wasn’t in the mood to be hit on, let alone to be sent a fruity drink. The worker did nothing wrong, so Harry took the glass. He didn’t bother excusing himself, instead making his way over to this woman who would most likely cry or scream at his rejection.
“Why’d you send this to me?” Harry questions as soon as he’s right behind her.
She turns around, a pout on her perfectly stained red lips, “you don't like an amaretto sour?”
Harry does his best not to let his face fall because she’s gorgeous. The dress looked beautiful, hugging all her curves. She was confident. He was sad he didn’t appreciate her backside more. Most women Harry knows wouldn’t dare be caught in a dress this provocative at an occasion like this, but she somehow added a hint of modesty to it with her red shawl that matched her lips perfectly. Although she’s stunning, he’s not falling for any trick of hers.
“Not my taste.”
“Oh,” the frown deepens on her face, “it looked like you weren’t enjoying your drink.”
Harry looks down at the brown liquid, “I ordered this.”
She raises her hand and shrugs. “My mistake. Your mood looked a little sour.”
It irked Harry how she had noticed him and his expressions when this was the first he saw her.
He keeps his eyes on her trying to see if he could get another reaction besides her pouty frown. “It’s the environment.”
“You don’t like Galas,” she states. “It’s an important cause.”
“It’s not that.” Harry takes a sip of the drink she sent him, mistaking it for his tequila. He holds back a reaction knowing she noticed his mistake. “I sometimes wish they asked for a check instead of making me pay a ticket and then donate a check once I’m here.”
“They ask for money and give us little food,” he surprises himself by continuing to talk, not wanting to walk away from her just yet.
“The food offered tonight had large portions.”
“For once,” he scoffs.
“Open bar?” She offers.
“Strange,” he rebuttals.
“But it works.”
Her gaze shifts to someone behind her, and Harry knows she’s about to walk away from him, and he hates that he wants to follow her. She leaves her drink behind, moving around him, getting ready to head to the person seeking her company.
“See you around, Mr. Styles.”
Harry watches her walk away until she gets lost in the crowd. As Harry keeps sipping the drink she ordered for him, there’s one thought swimming around his head.
He had never given her his name, let alone his last name.
For the rest of the night, he had kept an eye on her, seeing as she glided from donor to donor. Everyone laughed with her. She was charming them all. It worked on everyone, even Harry, something he’d never admit to her. As Harry watches her speak with the host of the night, an old family friend comes up to him.
“Styles, where have you been hiding?” Miles asks, a giant grin on his face.
Miles isn’t bothered by his answers; he is already used to Harry’s attitude. “How are you?”
“What are you drinking?”
Harry looks down at the empty glass that once held his second amaretto sour. “Nothing now.”
“Want another of whatever?”
He shakes his head, “good for now, thank you.”
“Why are you still here? I know you do your rounds and leave.”
“Uh…got to know a few people.”
Miles sees that Harry’s gaze hasn’t shifted for a second, and he finds where Harry has been staring for the last few minutes.
“Oh, Y/N.”
He repeats her name over and over, committing it to memory.
“Have you met her?” Miles asked him.
“Only for a moment.” Harry digs for more, “what do you think?
“She’s brilliant. Y/N is an intern for Lifelong Creativity long term but works side jobs with different partners Hope has introduced her to. I can’t tell you exactly what she does, but I know she’s passionate and would talk anyone’s ear off who asks. She’s finishing her degree soon, and everyone wants to snatch her up by the sounds of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already working up on opening her own nonprofit soon.”
“How old did you say she was?”
“She’s 23.”
“Real young.”
“Yeah, but it’s clear she knows what she’s doing.”
“You should speak with her. I’m sure she’d love to. She knows every person on the guest list. Seeing as she helped create it.”
Safe to say, Harry was intrigued to learn more about Y/N.
Life moved on. He pushed the college student out of his head and continued on with his life, or so he told himself. When a new invitation arrived the following week for an event taking place at the end of the month, he was quick to get Pearl to RSVP for him.
Now the night has arrived, and he isn’t sure why he’s here.
It’s not to try to get a look at Y/N, not at all hoping to have a longer conversation. He learned her name; it doesn’t mean he wants to use it.
He spots her as soon as he arrives at the bar. She’s wearing a sage green dress with embroidered flowers all around. She’s wearing white heels tied around her calf, and he wants to know how long it took her to get the perfect bow for each foot. Harry soon sees her with another woman with a checkbook in her hand, another familiar face.
Before he can second guess himself, he’s walking towards them.
“Hello, Lucy.” Harry greets her with a charming smile and a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.
“Mr. Styles, always a pleasure.”
“It’s always mine.”
“I was just speaking with Y/N here, thanking her for helping me plan a successful night.” Lucy smiles at Y/N, who squeezes Lucy’s outstretched hand.
“Quite something,” Harry inputs.
“Evening, Mr. Styles.”
He nods at her, “Y/N.”
“Lifelong Creativity is lucky to have her. I’m glad you were able to help out, Y/N.” They all hear Lucy’s name being called from a distance and know she’s about to leave them alone. “Excuse me, will you?”
It now leaves them alone, making Y/N finally look at him. Her lipstick is a soft pink with an added shine of glitter. He wonders if he were to kiss her if it’d stain his lips just the same. He clears his throat, willing the thoughts away.
“You’re an intern,” Harry states.
She doesn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I, uh, graduate soon.”
She smirks because she knows he’s searching for information about her. Y/N shakes her head, “Grad.”
“What’s your job?”
“I work for various nonprofits as well as hospitals. I’m part of their sub-events team.” She shrugs like it’s nothing of importance, but it is.
She’s part of the team that plans events to gain more funding for their organization and programs. She plans events to get people with heavy pockets, like Harry, to fork away thousands for a cause they believe in. Harry had often disregarded Gala invites due to ticket prices, but if his chances to see Y/N increased, he might just come to them all.
Harry does his best to hide how impressed he is with her.
“I’m sure you’ve reached your goal. Emptied all these fools out of their pockets.”
Y/N flashes him a grim smile. “Good day.”
What he said was clearly wrong because what Harry thought would be a long conversation was cut short.
The rest of the night, he never finds a moment alone with her. It’s as if she was dancing around him, having noticed that he was chasing her. It seemed she loved to play, and Harry didn’t like to lose.
Harry needed to pick up his suit from his tailor. He had a date, and this was his good luck suit. He pushed Y/N out of his mind. She was an intern and too young for him. He did not need to think about her or worry about seeing her at another event he attended. He was picking up his burgundy suit that needed fixing. It was made by his dear friend Alessandro. Usually, Alessandro makes alterations, but he was traveling at the moment, and Bartolo was the best. He had been coming to Bartolo long before meeting Alessandro. While his friend always made the most gorgeous suits, he seemed to have gotten his measurements wrong. Not that he minded. Harry liked paying Bartolo a visit, who always told him he needed to settle down with someone. That he wanted to see Harry happy. Harry simply told him it wasn’t the card for him.
He walks in, ready to be greeted by Bartolo, but to his surprise, he sees Y/N seated on a chair facing away from the window with a book in her hand.
She looks up, a slight smile on her face. “Mr. Styles, a pleasure.”
“Just Harry, please.”
She shrugs him off.
“Do you work here, Y/N?” He loves the role of her name off his tongue.
“My friend is an apprentice.”
“Dawn?” Seeing she’s the only other worker here besides Bartolo wasn’t that lucky of a guess.
Y/N, for the first time ever, smiles at him. It’s beautiful. It leaves him breathless. “Yes. Does she work with you too?”
Harry clears his throat, “no, uh, I work with Bartolo.”
He was surprised. Dawn had been working with Bartolo for two years, never had he crossed paths with Y/N. It was strange he found himself meeting her outside of their usual environment of a Gala. Seeing her dressed in a silk midi skirt with a slit going up her leg bundled up in an oversized sweater showcasing her university. The chunky boots on her feet gave her extra height, and Harry wished she’d stand up so he could see where she’d measure to him now. At their first meeting, he didn’t take note, but she noticed how she was a head smaller than him by their second meeting. Today he wondered if she’d be lined up to his lips if she would think of kissing him just like he thought of her.
She hums in response, leaving them in silence. He doesn’t know why but he wants her to keep talking. He wants to hear the softness of her voice fill the room.
“Bello!” Bartolo grins, bringing out his suit in his garment bag. Even that bag was customized with his name stitched in gold thread.
“Hello, Bartolo.”
Dawn walks in from the back, a few steps away from Bartolo and Y/N. “Y/N, your dress is ready to try on.”
Y/N follows behind Dawn but calls to him, “see you, Mr. Styles.”
Not a single glance his way. He wanted just one final look, and she didn’t give him that. Harry goes on his way home after paying Bartolo. He goes home with a clouded mind and a heavy heart.
Harry cancels his date that night.
No invites have arrived at his house or office.
It has been over a month, and he waits and waits. Harry has never been so aware of time as he has now. He feels every hour move slower, and he has no idea why. What kind of spell has she set on him that she is all he can think of?
He was tempted to look for her online. He had the power to do it, but he couldn’t break her trust. Harry doesn’t know her well, but he knows she’d hate it if someone looked them up without permission.
A knock on his door breaks him out of these thoughts.
“Come in.”
“Mr. Styles,” his temporary assistant Diego, while Pearl was away on maternity leave.
“Yes, Diego.”
“You said to come in if you received a new invitation.” There, in his employee’s hand, is a gold envelope.
In black ink is his name written on the front of the envelope. He opens it and reads from a close partner of his.
Golden Skies Invites you to join us as we celebrate our 10th anniversary.
Formal Attire - Be ready to dance
Anthony Carmichael
Y/N was nervous.
She could remember the last time she had felt her palms sweat and her heart wanting to beat out of her chest. It was when she was interviewing in front of the board the last step to seal her fate if she’d be accepted into the Graduate program of her dreams. Now here, she was nervous for an entirely new reason, this one holding less value to her life, but she knew it had the power to change the course of her life.
As much as Y/N loved the game of chase, she wanted to see if Harry was all talk or serious about pursuing her. Y/N had the confidence to go after what she wanted, and right now, she wanted to ask Harry Styles, CEO of Pleasing, a growing business, their net worth growing by the day.
Today she wore a satin midi slip dress with floral applique and lace trims in a dark shade of pink. An open back with delicate buttons on her lower back. This dress only doubled her confidence. She was ready for tonight.
The team had planned a big night as there would be dancing and a live band, unlike the past gala’s she had attended last month. Guests arrived promptly and quickly took a tour of the venue, many judging it, trying to find anything they felt didn’t hold up to their standards. She didn’t mind; she knew she could never please everyone. As long as she pleased her partners, then she knew she had done a job well done.
Y/N had to will herself to stop staring at the doors as they opened, bringing in familiar and new guests. She was waiting for a green-eyed man who never failed to impress with his custom-made suits from Gucci’s creative director.
“Y/N, sweetie. This is marvelous,” Keaton praises, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks, something she had to grow accustomed to seeing as most of her partners were big on the French greeting.
“Oh, uh, thank you. We’ll have to see how the night goes,” she tells him brushing off the compliment.
“You need to relax. Don’t you have Gracie to worry for you?” Keaton questions.
“Yes, but–”
“Nope,” Keaton cuts her off. “You need a drink in hand. You look smokin’, and everyone needs to see it.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“As far as I am concerned, your work here is done.” Keaton passes her a glass of champagne he got from the waiters walking around happily offering them to guests. “Now drink.”
She takes a sip and hums, appreciating the bubbly drink. Y/n might not be sure what brand she’s drinking tonight, but she does know that each bottle costs over one hundred dollars, and if Keaton is telling her to enjoy then she will. Plus, a bit of liquor courage was always helpful.
Y/N spends time speaking with Nora and Liam, part of her team. They get lost in conversation, going over how they’re looking forward to the auction in a few weeks that Nora was happy to be part of. She loved getting people to spend money on her, and she seemed to get offers from everyone in the building. Nora returned with the most insane stories, and Y/N was excited for more. Getting lost in conversation, she forgot about the man she was waiting for to make his presence known. He had RSVP’d, and it wasn’t until Liam told her a broody man had his eye on her from across the room.
She knew Harry had arrived and that he had spotted her before she could spot him, not that Harry knew she was looking out for him. Harry stands alone, a champagne flute in his hand. The music was loud, and the dance floor had couples dancing and laughing out loud, enjoying the night. Y/N hoped she’d be joining in on their fun in a few minutes.
As Y/N walked towards Harry, she admired his suit. It was different from the previous ones he had worn. The suit had a subtle black flower print. As she got closer, Harry acted like he didn’t see her coming, choosing to look at the dancing couples. She allowed herself to notice the details in his suit, from the black velvet lapels on his oversized jacket and his trousers hugging his thighs nicely while the bottom gave a nice balance with a flared hem. She really liked the look.
“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greeted
She let his eyes roam over her knowing she looked amazing. This was a borrowed dress, one she would be sad giving back, but it served its purpose. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d have an occasion to wear the dress again, not when all these people would remember.
“Do you dance, Mr. Styles?” Y/N asks as she joins him in, watching couples spin each other around. The music was more lively than the classical she knew he preferred.
“Are you not good at it?”
Harry scoffs, “I’m just not open to doing something intimate with acquaintances.”
“I see.” They stay silent for a few minutes until Y/N decides it’s now or never. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” She tells him, turning away from the dance floor to face him.
Harry gives her no reaction. “Is that so?” She nods. “Well, go ahead.”
She looks behind her, and when she turns back around, she has the most gorgeous smile on her face, not an inch of nerves, not like a few seconds ago, and Harry feels his heart speed up. He wasn’t sure what she would ask, but he might just agree to anything she said if she continued smiling at him.
“I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with me.”
A date.
Harry felt his throat closing up. She was asking him out. He didn’t believe it. Why would she want to date him? He wasn’t aware he had managed to make an impression. Harry’s ego is through the roof at the thought of this gorgeous young woman wanting to go out with him, but on the other hand, his brain is telling him he can’t. That she was younger than him, and he had no reason to involve himself with her.
He knows he has been silent for too long as he sees her smile begin to slip. They both know the answer that’s coming.
“No, Y/N. The answer is no,” he forces out in a neutral voice, hoping she couldn’t pick up on the bitterness he felt towards himself for rejecting her.
Y/N did not move an inch. He had expected her smile to fall or for her to ask him to reconsider, but he got none of that. Instead, she tucked away her smile and gave him a slow nod. Her eyes stayed locked with his, and Harry had trouble reading her. It seemed she was unaffected. So he tries again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
She brushes him off, “you don’t go through life without receiving a rejection. You’re not the first, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
Except Harry doubted that. Who could ever say no to her? Apparently, he could.
He did nothing as she excused herself, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. He had no right to be with someone as sweet and young as Y/N. It was fine. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her after tonight.
Harry would think about this interaction for days, beating himself up for saying no, but it was for the best.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Rejections never came easy.
It wasn’t the first time Y/N got told no, and as she told Harry, it wouldn’t be her last.
Was she disappointed he said no? Absolutely.
Was he out of her league? One hundred percent, and Harry must have known that.
Y/N thought there was something there. She knew who he was. There was a reason she sent him a drink that night. She didn’t ask him out for his connections or because he was crazy rich but because she heard people speak about Harry, a great man. From someone who spends time volunteering at the soup kitchen to donating gifts to hospitals during the holidays. No need to mention the extensive checks he leaves after each gala. Many people are philanthropists or say they are because it’s a write-off or will make them look good, but Harry does it to remember where he came from in that small town in England.
She knew too much about Harry from colleagues and guests but never got to know anything from the man himself, and that is something she’ll regret. Instead of taking the chance to learn from him, she asked him out, and now she’d keep sending invitations to his company while doing her best to avoid him, or at least until she got over the humiliation.
Y/N let herself wallow in pity for only a day. 24 hours is all she gives herself because it’s back to work on Monday. No need to be stuck on something so trivial.
By doing so, she takes herself out to eat. A meal that will always make her smile is dumplings, and she knows just the place. The Dumpling Bar is a favorite place of Y/N’s to dine alone or with her friends. The service is fantastic, never failing to leave her feeling so welcomed and leaving with a full stomach. She always sits in the front, with a nice view of the window facing the small lake it is located by. She treats it as a reward because it is a bit of a drive from her apartment. She wished she lived somewhere closer, but for now, she’ll keep making the drive. The back area is for classier meals, Y/N likes to say, even though they are all eating dumplings. Guests are allowed to have a seat in the backroom for a more intimate dinner.
Upon arrival, Y/N is greeted by Alba, the hostess who, just like her name, reflects the warmest energy she feels every time she sees her.
“Hi, Alba!”
“Hello beautiful, it’s great seeing you. Table by the window, alright?”
Alba points to the table Y/N had been eyeing since she walked in and eagerly lets her know it’s perfect.
“Danielle will be with you shortly.”
Y/N thanks her. It was not long before Danielle took her order, making small conversation and promising her that her food would be out shortly, and true to her word, Y/N did not have to wait long.
Oh, how she was looking forward to eating until her tummy was full. On a full stomach, she’d be too sleepy to even begin to remember why she was feeling sad.  
As Y/N munches on her dumplings, she can’t help but overhears the conversation. Next to her, a couple is sharing dumplings and talking very loudly.
“I told my father that a horse would not make me happy, not when my last one had been a champion. How could I go back to the Hamptons to show my face going from a winning horse to one that would surely be a loser.”
Y/N giggles. Oh, the drama. She enjoys listening to the couple, the boyfriend trying to be supportive and failing.
“Tell your dad to get the best trainer.”
“Chad, you’re not helping. Father is working hard, and I can’t bother him over a coach. Everyone is lousy in the industry now.”
The conversation seems to be going in circles. Y/N enjoys dining alone because she can’t imagine having dinner with someone she does not like. There would be awkward conversation and forced smiles. It’s a big reason she’ll never be on a dating app. Also, it helps that attending so many galas has connected her with many single men, not that any of them have been worth her time.
Y/N was waiting for Danielle to return her card and receipt because she was ready to call it a night. She had a full belly and was craving her bed. She’s humming along to the song being played in the restaurant. She had been trying to think of the song's name, but she’s been coming up blank. The front opens, and she hears Alba’s cheery voice greet them. Curiosity gets the best of Y/N, and she turns her head to the entrance to see who walked in when she sees a man in an emerald suit, the jacket a pinch oversized, and it seems the sleeves were folded in not that anyone would notice, the woman on his arm was gorgeous. It’s clear she dressed up for a night out on the town with how shiny her dress was, maybe even too bright for a fancy dumpling restaurant.
“My date and I have a reservation,” Y/N freezes as she hears the man’s voice. His voice was firm but polite, the English accent thick as he stated his name to Alba’s. He looks around the dining room, and that’s when Y/N looks back down, staring at her used napkin and empty cup that once held her raspberry lemonade.
The hostess nods, “we’ve got the private dining area ready, sir.”
Y/N ducks her head, afraid if he spotted her, he’d give her a look of pity, and she didn’t need that tonight, not when she had seen it when he rejected her.  It was no surprise he said no to her. She could never look that elegant on a weekday, let alone a day after a gala where she stayed hours past all the guests. Y/N sits there in orange bell bottoms and a black knitted sweater.  She looks lovely, and this is her favorite restaurant. This brought all the feelings back Y/N had thought she had let go of, and honestly, as much as it broke her heart, Y/N knew she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.
It’s been a month of endless planning and working with Hermanas Unidas, and Y/N was thankful the night was finally here. Tonight would be a bit different, and she was more on edge than ever. There would be an auction in a few hours, and Y/N wanted everything to run smoothly for Julieta, who has always been a good friend to her but today was her boss.
Y/N had raided Sapra’s, her best friend’s closet, once again. She knew she had to buy new clothes for her events, but she loved her best friend’s style and would rather borrow a dress than spend money on a new one. She was wearing a maxi dress with tie straps. Y/N chose it because she had fallen in love with the velvet material, and after trying it on, she felt sexy, not to mention she loved a slit to show off an extra bit of skin.
Sapra made Y/N promise she’d bring it back soon, stating it was her date night dress, and Y/N didn’t bother asking because whatever Sapra and her boyfriend did was not her concern.
The night had been in full swing since the doors opened to the venue. She had managed to blend into the background for most of the event and successfully avoided seeing the guest list for tonight, meaning she got to enjoy life without a care in the world.
After the rejection, she has happily moved on (or so she’s telling herself) Sapra and Atlas took her out on a double date that left her feeling back in her game. Her confidence was doubled, and she was ready to go out and have fun. No reason she had to stop because of one rejection. Although the man she went on a date with did not go well tonight, she’d be speaking with Colin, who had been made partner at Coulson’s Co. He was a family lawyer, and truth be told, Y/N was eating up everything he was telling her.
He was charming and had a deep laugh that sent chills down her spine. He was drinking wine and offered to get Y/N a glass when he saw she had been eyeing it. It’s safe to say Y/N was upset when Julieta’s assistant approached her to say she was needed backstage. Colin promised he’d miss her and looked forward to finding her soon.
Y/N was sure nothing would wipe the smile off her face until Julieta told Y/N why she was needed.
“Part of the auction?” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re joking!”
Julieta grimaced, “Erica called in sick. Always knew she’d flake.”
“Please, mi amor. I really need you. You’re all I have. I can’t do one less, not when I advertised five eligible bachelorettes.”
“Hope they can settle with me,” Y/N mutters.
“Dios, you know I hate when you talk like that. You are a beautiful woman. I’ve never seen confidence like yours, so please bring that Y/N back.” Julieta has done so much for Y/N, and she knows there’s no way she’d say no to her.
“Fine, what will I have to do?”
“It’s a good cause, Y/N, and I’m sure you’ll have a great time. If it’s someone you don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle it,” Julieta reassures her.
Y/N relents and allows herself to be dragged to the side of the stage, where four other ladies are lined up.
Here’s to a fun night. She really hoped Colin liked her enough to place a bid on her.
Harry was disappointed, to say the least. He had not caught a glimpse of her all night. He wanted to know what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair, and if she was drinking anything new. Tonight did not have a strict dress code, so he had settled on a simple black custom suit. He paired the suit with a black tank top, and to give it that extra flare, he wore his silver glitter boots.
As he spent the night looking for her, he knew he would not find her. The first time they met was because she wanted them to, and now she was back to blending into the crowd, but he knew he’d find her. He knew it was wrong to want to see her after rejecting her, but she was the only thing on his mind. Harry was never the type to get distracted, but here he is, attending another gala in the hope of getting a single glimpse of Y/N.
Harry knew he would find her, but he didn’t think it’d be by the owner of the organization presenting her onstage as an eligible bachelorette you could bid to take on a date. Harry was prepared to pay the auction no attention, but she always surprised him.  
He hadn’t seen her since he said no to her. Harry had rejected her not because he didn’t like her but because he was older. She was still in school, and he was running a billion-dollar company. He had the time and love to give, but he didn’t want to take away anything from her. He had no idea what she wanted out of life, and Harry was sure one date with Y/N and he’d be ready to get down on one knee because he recognized how intelligent and hardworking she was. It was rare that Harry found a person that could challenge him, but Y/N did it without a second thought. He didn’t want her to miss out on life experiences because he was at a different point in his life than her. He wouldn’t do it to her, no matter how much his heart hurt at never getting the chance to get to know her and the taste of her lips.
The bidding was starting, and Harry found himself with a numbered paddle. The number six stared at him, and he knew he would not be putting his hand down until he won that date with her because Harry was sure every person in that room who bid on her would not treat her the way she deserved.
“Good evening, everyone! I am Julieta, as you all already know. Tonight’s auction is slightly different. We always do amazing vacations, but tonight we decided something different. Behind me stand five beautiful women who are very important to this organization and me. So be aware that if you bid on one or more of these women, they will talk your ear off about Hermanas Unidas. Starting off, we have Clarissa.”
Y/N was the last person to be auctioned for the night. He didn’t know why she would do this? It didn’t seem like her, but then again, Harry didn’t really know her did he?
She walked up to Julieta with a beautiful smile on her face. She scanned the audience, and Harry froze, thinking she was searching for him but there in the second row, she locked eyes with a man and offered him a wink. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she was seeing someone else already. He knew he was feeling green but swallowed it down, for it wasn’t the place to act out on jealousy of someone he had no ownership over.
“Bidding for the angelic Y/N starts at $500.”
Four hands shot up. Harry’s included.
“$1000,” the blonde guy in the second row offered as he was the first hand up.
“Very well. Do I have $1,250?”
Harry was quicker this time, his number up first. Julieta nodded, accepting his bid. He had his eyes locked on Y/N, and the moment she realized it was his number, he saw her take a step back, surprised to see him bidding for her.
She kept a smile, but he knew it was forced now, no longer carefree.
The blonde once again beat Harry, “$3,000.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Is that the best this guy could offer? Harry was ready to lay down all his money if it meant a date with Y/N. The highest bid was for Samantha at $11,000, and the person who bid was her boyfriend, the owner of his family’s business he inherited three years ago.
He decided he’d wait to see how long this guy wanted to play because, for Y/N, he wouldn’t be backing down. “$5000,” Harry countered.
That seemed to get the blonde’s attention as he turned around to get a look at Harry, who only offered him a smirk tempting him to play his game, and by the scrawl the blonde gave Harry, he knew this was now about betting the most for Y/N but also who could prove to have the larger pocket.
“$8,000,” the blonde stood, not even glancing at Y/N anymore.
“$10,000.” Harry has now stepped closer to the stage, not caring that all the attention was on him and his opponent.
“$15,000,” the blonde winced, and it seemed only Harry heard it.
Julieta waited to see if Harry would respond, with one last raise of his paddle, “$30,000.”
The gasps were loud, but Harry didn’t care. His eyes were locked on Y/N’s, who stared at him in disbelief. He had doubled the blonde’s number, and it seemed he was out by the way he shook his head and sat down.
Julieta did not let her surprise show and accepted Harry’s bid, closing the auction with an offer of $30,000 for Y/N to go on a date with him. Harry was proud and shot the blonde man a smug smile as he was guided backstage, as he asked to speak with Julieta when in reality, he went in search of Y/N.
Upon arrival, he found her taking a sip of her red wine for the night. She looked exquisite, not a hair out of place, and her makeup was done to perfection. She shined as the true diamond of the night.
“Y/N,” Harry called out to her softly.
She turned, a frown on her face. “Mr. Styles.”
Harry frowned. He couldn’t detect an ounce of kindness in her voice. “Seems like we have a date,” he joked, wanting to see her smile.
Y/N scoffs, “why did you do it, Mr. Styles?”
“Pardon?” Harry hates how she says his name with so much distaste.
“Why’d you bid on me? It’s clear you have no interest in me.”
Harry wasn’t sure where to go from here because that was the furthest from the truth. He didn’t have to reply because Y/N wasn’t done talking.
“How can you be jealous when you said no when I asked you out?” Harry stays silent. “That’s what it was, right? My attention wasn’t on you anymore, and you didn’t like that. Did flaunting all your money make you feel good?”
“Y/N,” he steps towards her, but she puts her hand up to stop him, and he freezes. “I’m asking you now.”
She frowns, her voice rising. Harry never wished to see her upset, but it’s exactly what he caused. “No, this isn’t you asking.”
Harry sighs. There is no getting through to her. “Come on, Y/N, don’t be difficult.”
It’s clear that was the wrong thing to say because her eyebrows scrunch up, and there’s not a hint of kindness in her eyes, only a blazing fire that he seemed to be the cause of, and he regrets everything he has said to her from the moment he met her.”
“This is how you want to go out,” she points to the number on her chest, displaying her as contestant number five. “Because if so, I’ll take the money, but I won’t go.”
“C’mon, Y/N, give me a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Harry winces because he did. He bought a date with her, and some part of him regrets doing this without speaking to her, but it’s too late now.
Julieta comes up behind Y/N and places a hand on her shoulder, “Mr. Styles, thank you for your donation. We will deposit the check the day after your date, you know, for insurance purposes on both ends.”
“Of course, Julieta. I have always been a fan of the work you are all doing.” Harry hopes she doesn’t pick up on the tension between him and Y/N.
“You’re a gem, Mr. Styles.” Julieta shoots him a polite smile before turning her attention to Y/N. “I owe you one, Y/N, but I’m sure you’ll have a great night with this fine gentleman.”
And like that, they’re alone again.
They stand there in silence, waiting for Julieta to turn the corner to return to the party. They don’t want anyone overhearing their conversation. It’s clear they both have a lot more to say.
Harry starts wanting Y/N to know how sorry he is. “Don’t, uh, don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as an apology.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “an apology I’m forced to accept because you paid for it.”
Harry grimaces. There’s no coming back from this.
“What would your girlfriend think of spending $30 grand on another person?”
There was no girlfriend in his life. It’s been years since he had a partner. There’s only one girl he wishes to make his girlfriend, but he royally screwed that up, so he knows it will never happen.
“No girlfriend, I can assure you.”
“You’re a liar,” Y/N spits out.
“Enough,” Harry rebuttals. “There is no one.”
“I saw you. I won’t date someone else’s boyfriend.”
“Saw me?”
“Eating dumplings, or I was eating dumplings,” she fumbles. “You walked in with a date. I’m sure you were very cozy in the private room.
Harry’s eyes widened, “Y/N no, it was only a date.”
Hearing it was a date just as much as seeing him with the other woman. It is confirmation enough for Y/N to know there wasn’t another person she’d be hurting if word got out she went out on a date with Harry Styles.
“Please,” Harry begs.
“If I do this, you double the donation,” Y/N counters, and seeing how desperate Harry looked, she knew he’d agree to anything at this moment.
Harry doesn’t even react. He pulls out his checkbook, ready to write the check.
“Make it out to you or the charity,” Harry teases, hoping to ease the tension.
She rolls her eyes, “Hermanas Unidas would be wonderful, thank you.”
“Y/N,” his tone full of defeat
“I’m doing this for Julieta,” Y/N declares.” Not for you.”
Harry nods.
“You can get my number from the sheet. All the details for your reward are there.”
Harry watches her pick up her drink and walk away from him, leaving him alone to feel sorry for himself. And he knows he has a lot to make up for if he wants any chance with Y/N.
Y/N has been dreading this day.
It had been a week from the fateful day of the auction where Harry bid $30,000 well, now $60,000 for a date with her. The donation would do wonders, but she had to make it through an afternoon with Harry. Seeing as Harry informed her that it would be something casual but ending with a nice dinner. Y/N had no idea what that meant, but she decided that her brown checkered trousers and an old knitted sweater that always kept her warm would be a safe outfit.
She managed to slip on her shoes as she heard the doorbell ring, perfect timing.
Opening her door, she found Harry smiling, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. They were a beautiful shade of violet chrysanthemums. Y/N knew these were a rare shade to find, and she tried her best to bite back her smile at the sentiment.
“Hi, Harry.”
“Hello, Y/N, you look wonderful.”
She nodded but made no move to invite him in.
“Uh, t-these are for you,” he extended his hand, waiting for her to accept them. She was careful to not have his fingers brush against hers, not needing him to add to her nerves.
“I’ll, umm, go put these in water.”
Y/N knows she left him awkwardly hanging outside her apartment, but she was, in a way, inviting him in. She doesn’t want or need to cross that line with him. After setting the flowers on her counter and double-checking that the stove was off, she grabbed her bag and returned to Harry, who looked awkward waiting for her.
As Y/N locks her door and follows behind Harry, she can see that he did mean casual. He’s wearing wide-leg jeans that don’t do much to give him any shape. He paired it with a duck-stitched cardigan that softened his features in a way that his luxurious suits never have.  
Harry opened her door, offering a small smile as she slipped into his Bentley; the car couldn’t be more than a few months old by how sleek and cared-for everything looked. Y/N thinks of her Camry, better known as Baymax. The car that got her through undergrad and is still by her side now as she’s getting her master’s. Baymax has seen better days, but from what her father tells her, as long as she continues to care for the car as she has been, she has many years left with Baymax.
Harry's playlist in his car allows her to relax, classical music has always had a calming effect on her, and this time is no different. Harry didn’t try to spark conversation during the ride, and Y/N didn’t want to try either. She could feel the tension rising in the car as he fiddled every few minutes with the radio while Y/N tried to figure out where he was taking her.
It was half an hour until Harry turned up a paved road that led them to a large building, the parking lot full of cars. Y/N sat up straight, trying to figure out where he had brought them, but she’d never driven out this way. It was a hidden area, and the road easily missed when driving down if one isn’t actively searching for it.  
They pass a sign that reads, “Sunshine Haven” Y/N wants to say she’s heard the name but can’t pin it at this moment, she’s tempted to take her phone out and google, but something tells her Harry will have an explanation for her. As Harry parks in a spot that reads ‘reserved,’ she unbuckles herself but doesn’t move to get out as she sees Harry has not moved, instead playing with the beaded charm on his key chain.
“Before we go in, I want to say that I did go on a date.” Harry begins, clearly uncomfortable but important enough for him to bring up. “She is not my girlfriend. It was only one date.”
Y/N shrugs, disinterested. It doesn’t matter to her, no more than he does to her right now.
“I asked her out. It was a bad date. That’s all. I don’t even have her number.”
Y/N wishes he hadn’t told her this, that he kept it to himself because it hurts her a lot more than she thought to hear Harry talk about asking another person out. He asked that person out because he was interested in them, while Y/N got a rejection. It’s clear to her now that Harry goes after what he wants, and it’s clearly not her.
“All forgotten,” she tells him with a forced smile and then gets out of the car. Harry follows a few seconds after coming to meet her at her side. Y/N feels the chilly air and is thankful for her sweater because she doesn’t know what Harry has planned, but it doesn’t feel like anything warm is waiting for her.
He begins to walk, and Y/N follows a step behind him. She takes in the beautiful environment growing around her, the trees and shrubs a bright green displaying how much sunlight they must receive daily. Harry stops walking as they reach the welcome center entrance. Y/N sees how fidgety he’s gotten again and knows he has something to share, so she stays silent.
Harry rubs his eyebrow, a tell-sign he’s nervous, “uh, I thought Sunshine Haven Rehabilitation would be a good place to bring you because I’ve seen various causes you’re passionate about, and well, this is one of mine.” He gestures to the entrance, where there’s a bulletin board of all the animals that have been released back into the ocean; on the bottom are sponsors, and listed second to last is none other than H. Styles. His photo icon is of him smiling, that dimple he never seems to show off was on display with a stuffed dolphin in his arms, and it warms Y/N’s stomach in a way she hasn’t felt since she first introduced herself to him.
Y/N knows she has mixed emotions. She can go about this one of two ways: act nonchalant as if her heart didn’t grow three sizes when finding out that Harry brought her to a place that clearly meant so much to him, or embrace the day and see what Harry and this beautiful rehabilitation have to offer.
“Lead the way then, Styles,” Y/N gave him a small smile, hoping to ease his nerves, and the one she got in return managed to call her down as well.
Y/N was ready to get to know the real Harry Styles, even if it didn’t mean anything more to Harry because, at the end of the day, she could make a fantastic friend, which didn’t sound like a bad idea to her. Walking in, a receptionist greets them, asking if they’re here to volunteer or pay for a visit until the lady slips her glasses on and gasps seeing Harry in front of her.
“Young man, you haven’t been here in ages,” she scolds him.
Y/N bites a smile as Harry looks down bashfully. She uses this time to look at the woman’s name tag: Sally.
“Sorry, Sally. I’ve been busy.” Harry wraps her in a hug, and Sally sighs.
“Fine, fine. Go on, I forgot you called in.”
Y/N, not wanting to be rude, moves aside and stretches out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Y/N, a friend of Harry’s. Thank you for having us.”
“Oh, sweetie, aren't you polite.” Sally accepts her hand, giving her a firm shake. “I’d hug you, but this one is known to be jealous.” Sally gestures to Harry, causing Y/N to laugh.
“I know.” Y/N grins at Harry loving the chance to tease him.
“Haha, we’ll be going now.”
“Have fun, dears.”
Harry opens a door, leading them down a long hallway until it shows displays of different areas for each animal in the rehabilitation center. It’s clear how loved this location is, with all volunteers walking around each animal center.
“What are we allowed to do?”
He shrugs, “mainly walk around, feed a seal if we’re lucky.”
She tries to contain her excitement, “are we going to be lucky?”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we.”
Y/N pouts but doesn’t push him. He kind of hoped she would. She lets Harry take the lead in showing her around. A few other school groups are volunteering, and Y/N knows if she were their age, she would have also signed up to volunteer here. Her time in the library was put to good use; she learned how to code and the Dewey decimal system of her town’s library.
She stays silent as Harry tells her about the first section: the sea turtles. Y/N can’t help but take in Harry as he talks about Sunshine Haven with pride; his eyes shine with every new fact he rambles about without looking at any of the information boards displayed. Y/N doesn’t dare interrupt him, letting him guide her. She’s almost tempted to reach for his hand because his strides are more extended than hers, and she always finds herself catching up.
Y/N stops as she sees a sign for the otters. Her eyes shine with delight. She calls his name when she sees him walking away.
“Let’s go there, please.” It’s her first request, and Harry smiles, seeing her waiting for him to say yes and guide them to see the otters, her favorite animal.
“I don’t know, seems busy.” He teases.
She doesn’t stop herself when she reaches for his hand, deciding that she will take him there since he doesn’t seem to want to take her.
“Hurry, Harry. I want to see the otters. Please,” she begs
“Lead the way, love.”
She leads the way to the otters while Harry giggles knowing he’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. Y/N made him feel like a little kid full of happiness and never-ending energy. He wanted to spend every moment with her, and having the day with her would have to be enough for now.
Y/N coos as she catches sight of the otters happily swimming in the cold water. She steps towards the glass waving at the otters, although Y/N and Harry know the otters can’t see her. It doesn’t stop her; if anything, she steps closer, trying to get herself as close to them as possible. She looks like a little kid admiring their favorite animal for the first time.
“Didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Harry tells her as she marvels in awe at the different sea animals.
“Oh, I was certain I would be a marine biologist when I was five.”
Harry laughs, clearly picturing a small Y/N with her wide smile looking at picture books of animals and stating she’d be taking care of them.
“What happened?”
“Biology is what happened,” she shutters in disgust. “They made me dissect a frog, and it broke my heart. I thought they were all about helping animals, not studying their insides.”
“Oh, love.”
Y/N feigns tears, “I’ve never recovered.” She lifts her head to flash him a cheeky smile while he shakes his head at her antics.
Harry giggles at her act of sadness, having believed her bit. “You’re trouble.”
She shrugs, “only a few can handle me.”
And Harry knows he would be lucky to say that she’s his.
Dinner is something Harry had been looking forward to all afternoon. He enjoyed walking around Sunshine Haven with Y/N and seeing her relaxed and happy in an environment he loved. Harry led her down some stairs until they were met by a small opening that led them to a large tunnel. Y/N let out a gasp seeing all the fishes swimming all around her. She looked on in awe, not even noticing Harry capturing a photo of the moment.
“That’s a tiger shark,” she breathed out, pointing it out to Harry.
“That’s Tank,” he shares.
“Will she be released soon?” Y/N hears Harry sigh and knows that won’t be the case for Tank. “What happened?”
“They found him young, and his dorsal fin was cut off. Most sharks can survive without it over time, but he was so young that he was seen as prey, not a predator.”
“He isn’t bothered by the other fish?”
Harry guides Y/N to sit down, letting her continue to marvel at the ocean life around her. “We let him roam, then he returns to his own tank. He’s respectful because he isn’t the best hunter, but we’ve seen he loves his space.”
“I’ve always liked sharks. Feel like they’re misunderstood.”
Harry laughs loud and rich, making Y/N smile, knowing she’s the reason he’s laughing. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Come on, they’re a feared animal due to movies or shark bites. There’s a 1 in 7 million chance you’ll get bitten or die from a shark attack. You have a higher chance of getting taken out by the flu.” She tells him as Harry removes the silver food cover to reveal a plate of chili tofu and a rainbow pasta salad.
“You’re right,” he agrees. Harry is constantly in awe around Y/N, finding new ways to be surprised by her, whether it be her beauty or intelligence. “Hope you enjoy the food. I know you mentioned being a fan of tofu.”
“Oh, it smells delicious. Is this from a restaurant nearby?”
Harry ducks his head to hide the blush on his face, “no, uh-I-I made it.”
Y/N widens her eyes in surprise as she takes her first bite. Harry watches as she chews, not looking away from him even when she reaches for her drink.
“Thoughts?” He asks.
She giggles, “it’s amazing.”
Harry tries his best not to look too smug, but he knows he’s failing because his mother always told him the way to someone’s heart was through their stomach, and for her to be a fan of his food means he was a step in the right direction. He wishes he had called his mother more for advice because he knows if he had talked to her about Y/N, he wouldn’t have messed it up so many times.
“Right, Harry. You’ve got to tell me about the time you fell into the waste bins.”
Harry gasps in shock. It’s a story only a few knew around here, “when did Sally have the time to spill these lies?”
Y/N laughs, not at all surprised he was quick to deny the story. “Fine. You can tell me how the dolphins wouldn’t accept your treats.”
“Now, that’s not fair. They’re spilling all my secrets.”
Y/N enjoyed dinner with Harry. He was easy to talk with, never once cutting her off and always having his gaze on her. There wasn’t a moment she thought she had lost him, not even when she rambled on about evaluation reports she had to sit through every few months. She always seemed to do the data cleaning because no one had figured out how to use the template she provided, even with all the lessons she gave each employee.
Harry assured her after dinner that there was no need to clean up, that he had it handled. She agreed and let Harry walk her out, where they got the most gorgeous sunset view behind the trees. Sally waved them goodbye making Y/N promise to come back even if it wasn’t with Harry. Y/N promised she would; she had seen a flyer on the bulletin about rescues they have every other weekend when they open it up for volunteers in training, and Y/N wanted to make time to come out for one of those dates.
The drive home is filled with aimless chatter as Harry tries to learn about Y/N. He’s surprised by how much she’s actually willing to share, but he’s not one to question it. He likes answering her as well. He doesn’t think he’s told someone his favorite cereal choice in years; no one has ever wanted to know something so irrelevant, yet Y/N made his answer feel special. His past girlfriends were into materialistic items, not that Harry minded, but conversations always dulled if they did not involve the newest fashion trends or famous designers.
“I didn’t take you as a Lorde fan,” Y/N tells Harry as she sees him singing along to one of the artist's newer songs.
Harry turns to face her for a moment before turning back to the road, “what did you expect then?”
“Hmmm….you really appreciate Jazz and love any piano piece, so I assumed Joni Mitchell, Carole King, oh, and Van Morrison.”
“Wow! You take me for an oldy, Y/N,” he gasps.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
He shakes his head, laughing, “can’t do that.”
“Knew it,” she celebrated.
“What about you?” Harry turns the question back to her.
“I want to hear what you think.”
“That’s a lot of pressure,” he tells her honestly.
Harry racks his brain, trying to picture the type of music Y/N would listen to. He’s never really thought about it, but she seems the type to love melancholy songs or love songs that you can’t help but sing at the top of your lungs.
“You’re a Spice Girls fan.”
Y/N laughs fill the car, and Harry wishes he could store it in his memory forever; he knows he’ll never hear another sweeter sound. “Who isn’t, Harry?”
“Fine, you’re a Taylor Swift fan. You love those romance songs, and maybe Lana Del Rey. She’s got that unique voice.”
She takes in his response for a second, “I mean, you’d find them both on my playlists absolutely, but they wouldn't be top five on my Spotify wrapped.”
Harry chuckles, not surprised he was wrong, “well, who is it then?”
Y/N grins, taking Harry’s phone that was sitting on the console. Harry hears her typing away then a familiar beat fills the car, and she is quick to join the lead singer in singing.
“Paramore,” he states.
“Paramore,” she repeats. “They’re amazing,” she shrugs, “I’ve always seen them have fun with their music, and I love that.”
“My friend’s a co-writer with them on their new album,” Harry shares nonchalantly.
“Shut up!” Y/N yells.
“Oh! That’s amazing! Ugh, I’m so jealous. I’ve always aspired to be Hayley Williams.”
Harry has never seen Y/N be more her age than right now as she gushes over a band she loves. He’s always seen her serious and professional, and he likes that side of her, but laidback Y/N is just as sweet. Harry can feel her creeping into his heart.
He’s disappointed when the GPS announces they’re right outside her home. He did not want the date to end. Harry knows he went about everything wrong with Y/N, but he hopes he can get a real chance with her after tonight. Y/N lets him walk her up, his hand on the small of her back. She’s fumbling with her keys stuck in her bag's zipper; he watches on, amused, until she flashes him a slight grin to show she’s got them.
“Thank you for today, Harry.”
“Of course, Y/N.”
Harry cuts her off, having almost forgotten an essential part of tonight, “forgot to hand you the check.” He chuckles, reaches into his coat, and slips out a folded check. He didn’t see Y/N’s face fall as if finally remembering the reason she went on the date tonight.
Y/N looks down at the check and knows that as meaningful as the date was for her, it was still a debt to be paid.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
Harry doesn’t know what happened in a matter of seconds, but he doesn’t want the night to end on a heavy note, so he shares something weighing heavy on his chest. “I like you, Y/N,” he breathes out. He doesn’t let her answer. “I'll see you soon.”
Y/N watches Harry walk away, leaving her more confused than ever.
Harry was shopping for a gift. It was his niece’s birthday in a few days, and he knew that at eight, Abigail had become a big reader, what better gift than a few of his favorite books, as well as a year membership that allows her to get a new book each week. He was browsing a shelf when he froze, seeing someone at the end of the aisle reading a book. He didn’t expect to see Y/N so soon. She looked beautiful. Her hair was in a ponytail, a ribbon holding it all together. It seemed fitting for her. He didn’t expect to see her so soon after their date.
He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. It’s clear the date went well, at least to him, but when they said goodbye, he felt a shift. It was awful to realize, but Harry was nervous about approaching her. He wished he had a percent of confidence like he did going into corporate meetings, where he always owned the room the second he walked in. Yet, ten seconds in the presence of Y/N, he feels nervous and forgets every word in the English language.
After finally deciding not to approach her and instead head straight to the register, Y/N tucks the book under her arm and turns to find Harry right in front of her. He sees the surprise settle on her face, and he knows he needs to leave. Abigail’s presents can wait. He pretended he didn’t see Y/N and acted like it didn't break his heart to see her smile fall. Instead, he walked right past her like he wasn't hurting her or himself. He knew he was ruining his chances with Y/N, romantic and platonic.
Y/N stood in her spot, frozen. Harry brushed past her like they had not gone out on a “date” two nights ago. As if he didn’t tell her he wanted it to be an actual date that he “liked” her. It was a bunch of bullshit to toy with her feelings, but Y/N has decided she’s had enough. There will be a gala this coming weekend, and she’s decided he no longer deserves a minute of her time.
Harry was uneasy, arriving at the gala tonight. He hoped to find Y/N immediately because how they last saw each other left a bad taste in his mouth. He was done with these games. He didn’t care about anything else, not when all he wanted was Y/N, but first, he owed her an apology.
He spotted Y/N right away. He had come to learn that where the conversation was loud and joyful, that is where he would find her. She seemed to be the shining light of every event, as everyone who spoke to her always left with a dazed smile. It’s as if she bewitched them, and Harry knows he’s fallen under her spell as well, and he never wants it to end.
He could see she was guiding a conversation with ease. He took the time to admire her dress; her gowns never failed to leave him breathless, as if each one was perfectly made just for her. Tonight she wore a prune midi dress with a crew neckline and what Harry recognized as cap sleeves. The button detailing falls off-center, allowing the dress to give more shapes to areas of desire. The slit on her dress seemed to lie higher than other dresses he’s seen her wear, and he wished he was lucky enough to know what she had under.
Harry joins the group, pardoning for the interruption and addressing the group before letting his gaze rest on Y/N, who he sees standing close to the gentleman next to her. After a few seconds of staring at her, he can see where her arm is hooked in the crook of the man next to her.
He does his best to hide the shock. Seeing her at an event with someone else, let alone another man, doesn't feel real.
She always came alone.
Now here she was, smiling brightly with the man laughing at each joke she told.
“Mr. Styles,” she’s grinning, and it hurts to know he’s back to that formal name, no longer Harry. The reason she’s happy is because of the gentleman she’s proudly showing off by having him at her arm.
“Y/N,” his voice was low and defeated.
“This is–”
“Excuse me, will you–”  he interrupts before she can introduce her date. He was a fool for thinking he had a chance; he rejected her and bought a date. For fuck’s sake, he really screwed everything up. He heads to the bar hoping to drink away the time.
Y/N isn’t one to allow someone to walk all over her, but it seemed there always was an exemption to the rule, and for her, it was Harry Styles. He’s been insufferable from the moment she introduced herself to him, but she found him charming. She took a shot, and it didn’t land. That was fine. Their date was good but nothing more, not when it wasn’t real.
Tonight when she wanted to present Mr. Styles to her brother-in-law, Isaac, he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He was a real piece of work. As much as she didn’t want to believe all the rumors she was starting to hear about Mr. Styles, they were getting harder to deny, especially when he brushed her aside in almost every meeting they had.
“You alright, Y/N?” Isaac asks, escorting her away from two fellow donors who promised a check of $20,000 and over to the open bar on the other side of the room.
Y/N sighs. There’s no point in lying. “That’s Harry,” she muttered.
Isaac gasps, “no, the handsome guy who glared at me from the moment he walked in and saw you at my side.”
“The very one.” She doesn’t seem to pick up on the last bit of his sentence.
“He’s handsome,” Isaac states.
“And he knows it.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t a douche,” Isaac questions her, confused. “Or Matias said he hadn’t been.”
“You both gossip too much,” Y/N accepts the whiskey he hands her and takes a sip before hammering it all back.
“Taking it back to the old days, I see,” he teases.
“Piss off. You and my brother did much worse, if I recall.”
Isaac scoffs, “Matias and I were the perfect children. Don’t care what you say.”
“Your mother’s front door says otherwise,” Y/N reminds him.
“That’s not fair. You and Sapra took the car up to Bristol for the weekend.”
“With permission,” you remind him.
He scoffs, accepting anything whiskey from the bartender. “How have you two always been the favorites?”
“Because we didn’t fall in love with each other.”
“You’re a wanker!” Isaac nudges her side, careful to not spill her second drink.
Y/N laughs, leaning her head onto her brother-in-law's shoulder. She always has the best time with him. It’s the reason she asked him to come with her tonight, also because her brother asked for her help to get him out of the house to allow him to bring in and hide Isaac’s birthday gifts that he somehow always managed to find each year.
Isaac helps Y/N work the room. She had forgotten how much fun it was to hang out with Isaac. He seemed to always be a package deal with her brother, not that she minded but spending time with him reminded her how much he always made her laugh.
“He’s watched you all night,” Isaac informs her after returning with a new drink from the bar Y/N, having walked away from Daniel, a cold stone CEO who turned into a giant teddy bear promising a check of $10,000 after a five-minute conversation with Y/N.
Y/N shrugs him off, “I’m over it.”
“Sure, babes.”
Y/N scoffs, “I am.”
“You want to be under him, not over him,” Isaac tells her, not at all falling for her charade.
“But he’s been a dick.”
“I think he’s intimated.”
“Of?” Y/N questions.
“You, dummy.” Isaac gestures to Harry, who’s standing next to a few other men clearly in charge of the conversation, but he doesn’t seem to care because he glances at her every few minutes. “He’s probably never met a woman who’s asked him out to get to know him. Maybe he thought you were only trying to sleep with him.”
What Isaac is saying makes no sense to her, but maybe he has a point. Maybe Harry didn’t know her intentions, and that’s why he told her no, it doesn’t explain his other actions, but it is a start.
“Enough.” She’s tired of discussing Harry and would rather head home now before Harry gains the courage to approach her. “ I’m going to the restroom, and you’re getting my coat. I know a good place to eat.”
“You paying?” Isaac teases.
“Yes, you little diva.”
Isaac presses a loud kiss to her cheek, sending her off with a slap to her ass, “off you go.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at his dramatics but goes off to do her business. She was feeling hungry tonight. Leaving the restroom, Y/N bumps into someone waiting right outside. She laughs as the person helps her straighten out.
“Haha, sorry there.” She really should be more careful.
“You okay?”
Y/N freezes. Of course, it’s him.
“All good,” she assures Harry.
She stands there awkwardly, waiting to see if he would say anything, but he stays silent.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she moves past him.
“Y/N, wait.”
She looks at him expectantly.
He sighs, and he runs his hand through his hair, a tell sign he’s nervous. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I was having a bad day and didn’t want to bother you.”
“Wasn’t so hard, huh, to let someone know you see them but didn’t have time to talk.”
He shakes his head, “not at all.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”
Y/N shrugs. “Well, it’s done, I guess. We don’t owe each other anything.”
Harry deserves her hesitancy. He hasn’t been good to her, but he misses seeing her smile and laugh at his awful jokes.
“Ready to go home, babes?” Isaac calls from behind Harry, holding up her coat.
She holds back a smile shaking her head at Isaac, who has a Cheshire grin. Harry looks at her like he wants her to say no, that she’ll stay with him, but she’s had enough of his games.
“Good night, Mr. Styles.”
“Y/N,” he reaches for her hand but stops. They both stare at his arm, having stopped inches from touching her until he drops it back to his side.
“Take care.”
Harry nods as he watches another man drape her coat around her, then place a hand on the small of her back and guide her out.
He really had no chance now.
Y/N loved ice cream.
When she was younger, her parents loved taking her out for ice cream after any kind of academic achievement, wanting to shower her with praise just as much as they did her brother, a star athlete. She loved coming because she got to pick a new flavor each week and also how they found out she was allergic to pistachio.
Growing up close in age, many thought she and Matias would not get along, but that was not the case being the younger sister allowed her to see her brother in a guiding light. She loved following after him at least she did until he pushed her down the last few steps of stairs for breaking his favorite crayon. He broke her arm, which she was allowed to hold over his head forever.
He was the reason she had to learn to write with her left hand. Their parents thought they would hate each other after that fight, but it only brought them closer together. Matias realized how fragile his sister was and vowed never to hurt her or anyone again. It's why he became a swimmer. No actual harm would come to him or anyone while Y/N gained the strength to stand up for herself, not wanting to be seen as weak.
As much as Matias denies it, his heart broke when Y/N met Sapra, her best friend, because it meant he was losing her as his best friend, something he’d never dare tell her. Sapra walking into Y/N’s life was amazing because it made her glad she had a brother because it meant she could have Sapra as the sister she never had. From the day they partnered in English for a project, Sapra being the new student and Y/N the star student, they did not go a day without each other. They became part of each other’s families and officially became sisters thanks to the help of their brother by falling in love and getting married.  Now here she was for her weekly ice cream date with Sapra.
“He didn’t!” Sapra gasps as Y/N explains how Isaac cut off Harry and escorted her out like a true gentleman.
Y/N nods, licking her caramel vanilla ice cream. “Yup, he looked like a kicked puppy.”
“Oh, that’s devastating.”
“It was.”
“I thought you liked him.”
She shrugs, “he’s all mixed signals. I ask him out, and he says no. I’m auctioned as a date he buys me. The next time I see him, he ignores me.”
“Maybe he didn’t see you.”
Y/N gives her a deadpan look. “We stopped right in front of each other. Had a book in hand, and he had a coffee. I waved, gave him a smile, and took a step towards him, and he stared past me and then walked past me.”
“Right…” Sapra realized there was no bright side to her situation.
“I seriously don’t get his problem. If this man says he’s doing all that because he likes me, I’ll call bullshit.”
Sapra sighs, “maybe he likes you but doesn’t like how forward you are. Maybe he’s into sweet innocent girls.”
“Ugh, this is why I don’t date. I seriously thought he’d be mature for being older. Seems all that money has clogged his brain.”
Y/N watches as her best friend laughs.
“Speak of the devil,” Sapra gestures behind Y/N, and she does her best to bite back a groan.  
“Noooo,” she groans. “This is my favorite shop.”
Harry notices Sapra staring at him and shoots her a polite smile. “He saw me.”
“He doesn’t know you.”
They decide to ignore him, and it works. Sapra finished her ice cream, and Y/N excused herself to the restroom claiming they had a few more stops before ending their day together. Y/N returns from the bathroom just in time to see Harry standing in front of Sapra, a cup of ice cream in his hand. As she gets closer, she meets Sapra’s eyes which are telling her to stop, but she doesn’t listen, able to catch Harry’s final words.
“--love to take you on a date.”
She’s not sure what to feel. Instead, she doesn’t let an inch of emotion show as she says excuse me taking her seat in front of Sapra again. Y/N sees the exact moment Harry’s face falls as he recognizes her. Then back to Sapra, the person she told him about on their so-called date.
“Y/N,” he breathed out.
“Mr. Styles,” she addressed him coldly. “See, you met my best friend, Sapra. We’ve spoken about her.”
He clears his throat, evident in the growing tension. Y/N’s expressions stay neutral while Sapra looks at Y/N, smirking.
“Well, Mr. Styles, as flattered as I am. The answer is going to be no.” Sapra shrugs, no longer meeting his eyes.
Harry fidgets with his rings, his discomfort apparent, “no, I understand.”
“Heard you met my brother. He’s a real charmer.” Sapra tells him.
“At the gala,” Sapra reminds him. “He was Y/N’s date. Think they make a great pair.”
Harry frowns, feeling his skin itch.
Y/n decides to end his suffering. “Isaac is Matias’ husband. My brother, I told you about him.”
“The older brother who painted your mum's wagon pink,” he checks to confirm.
“The very one.”  
“Have a nice day,” Sapra tells him harshly, cutting off the conversation from going any further.
“Good day.” Not an ounce of confidence in his walk. If anything, Y/N thought he looked sad.
Both girls watched him walk away until he was outside and in his car. Y/N isn’t sure what to say, but she can’t say she blames Harry. All through their time in school together, Sapra was the person all the boys asked out. While Y/N was the person, they went to for advice, not that she ever helped them. It wasn’t until she was at university did she realize she didn’t care what others thought. Y/N started working on her self-confidence, and she blossomed. When she first asked a boy in her English class, and he said yes, she felt empowered. She took that energy and put it into her work ethic. It’s why she’s so successful today. She will admit it hurt seeing Harry ask out her best friend, but it also helps put things into perspective that Harry Styles might not be the man she thought he was.
Harry is an idiot.
He has one girl on his mind, and to take his mind off her, he asks another out, only for it to be her friend, her best friend of all people. He really screwed this one up.
“You haven’t called me in a while,” Harry’s friend Mitch says as he sips his bourbon.
“I’ve been busy,” Harry mutters.
The two men sit in silence. It’s something they have always done. They are not ones to express their feelings unless they need to.
“What shit did you do now?” Mitch asks as he sees Harry pour his third cup of bourbon.
“Shit, Mitch. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Mitch gives him a pointed look, and Harry relents. “There’s this girl.”
“That’s a first.”
“As I was saying, she—she’s beautiful. And so god damn out of my league, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m fucking 33, and she has me acting like a teenager.”
“Ask her out, simple as that.”
Harry laughs bitterly. “No, Mitch, it isn’t. See, she asked me out, and I said no.”
Mitch winces, “ouch. Bruised her ego.”
“No, that's the thing. She acted unbothered and treated me with respect after.”
He knows he’ll regret that rejection for the rest of his life.
“What were you expecting? A drink in the face.”
He shakes his head, “course not.”
“Why is she a problem if you rejected her?” Mitch emphasizes.
“Because every time I see her, I feel my heart wanting to beat out of my chest. I see her speaking with another man too close, and I get jealous. Hell, I bet on an auction date with her, but I fucked it over by ignoring her the next time I saw her. And today, I was finally working up the chance to go out on a date to get her out of my head, and the person I asked out turned out to be her best friend, and she was right there.” Harry slumped back against his chair, bourbon now forgotten.
Mitch grimaces, “that doesn’t sound great.”
“It’s all shit.”
“Backtrack. Why did you reject her?”
Harry groans because he’d been a fool to say no. He thought he was too old for her or that she was looking for some fun in the sheets, and he wouldn’t disrespect her like that, not when he admired her. “She’s young.”
“Eighteen young?”
“No, you dick.” Harry spits out harshly.  “She’s in graduate school. She’s in her twenties.”
Mitch sits back on the couch, frowning.
“Spit it out.”
“It seems you made a mess of things for no reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Mitch takes a sip of his drink, getting all his thoughts together. “She asked you out, meaning you didn’t seek her out. If I recall, you said she knew your name.” Harry nods, and Mitch continues. “It means she was aware of your age difference. She had an idea of her chances being slim to none to you saying yes. She came in with the upper hand, but you carried the power with your response. You’re going about your feelings all wrong. If you’re not going to treat her like she knows she deserves, then leave her alone.”
Once Mitch had laid it all flat for Harry, he could see that Mitch had a point. She knew what she wanted from the moment they met, which intimated Harry for some reason. She sent him the drink, asked him out, and reached out while he hid and avoided. She held herself with grace and respect, and that somehow intimated him.
He wanted a chance with Y/N to prove to her he could be a gentleman, and he valued her time and respected her. He just had to find the right opportunity. His eyes flickered to the ripped invitation on his desk. An invitation to a Masquerade Ball in two weeks to support Global Warming. He knew who would be there. It was the perfect time to apologize and ask for a date, a real one this time.
Y/N hated being sick.
From a young age, she threw the biggest fuss when she would fall in and had to miss school. She told her parents that missing out on learning would ruin her life when she didn’t want her friends to forget her for the days she was gone. Given that when she would go back, she received big hugs; clearly, she was not forgotten.
Now, as an adult or graduate student living alone in her small but entirely her own apartment, she didn’t like to be sick, not when she had to work or had events to attend. Thankfully, Y/N’s work has always been flexible and has health benefits, so she can take the day off. The sad news is that there’s a gala, not one of hers this time, that she promised she’d attend with Sapra. The theme was masquerade, and Sapra had worked on her mask for ages wanting to stand out during the night, and Y/N couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Sapra had been looking forward to this night for ages, even writing it with a pen in her calendar, and she never did that in case plans changed. Y/N felt horrible, but thankfully Sapra was super understanding, and their good friend Dawn was able to come in and save the day. With the promise to send Y/N lots of pictures, they left her with soup and crackers to last her the next few days while she began to feel better.
Harry had been counting down the days to see her. He hoped he was able to spot her among all the people tonight because if not, he’d be asking every person in the room to remove their masks until he found her. He had decided on a gold mask with intricate black designs all around. His dear friend Alessandro took his time with it. He knew he’d take it back to his friend after it was too much of a delicate piece to keep for himself. He knew he would have no use for it after. His suit tonight was velvet, a deep black that held a shimmer in the right kind of lighting. Harry loved the little details in outfits, and he couldn’t wait to notice each one of Y/N’s tonight.
He must have walked around three times and nothing. Not a single citing of her. Harry decides to stop at the bar when a woman in a gorgeous red gown drops her mask, and Harry gasps. It was not Y/N; it was her best friend, Sapra. That meant Y/N had to be around here somewhere.
“Good evening, Sapra.” Harry interrupts her conversation with the short woman next to her. She’s in a yellow gown, one that reminds him of Kate Hudson’s in her iconic role in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He recognizes her as Bartolo’s worker in the shop. He hadn’t been there since Alessandro came back from his trip. “And Dawn, it’s nice to see you again.”
Dawn flashes him a smile. “You as well, Harry. Bartolo misses you. Says no one comes in to challenge him like you did.”
Harry nods, “I’ll have to visit soon, then.” Sapra elbows Dawn as if reminding her they weren’t team Harry. He notices, and before giving them a chance to make their exit, he asks the question that’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Where’s Y/N?”
Sapra and Dawn share a look before turning back to Harry, matching frowns on their faces. “Girl code, Mr. Styles,” Sapra tells him, voice full of distaste.
“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to speak with her,” he begs.
Dawn takes pity, having heard Harry bare his heart to Bartolo when he came in for a suit fitting about how nervous Y/N made him and that his confidence seemed to vanish around her. She thought it was a step in the right direction to ask them about Y/N despite his first meeting with Sapra.
“She’s sick,” Dawn shares, not caring that Sapra will give her shit for it later.
He frowns. She’s sick, and she’s alone. That doesn’t sound like a good evening. “Will she answer if I go?”
“You’re kidding?” Sapra asks.
Harry shakes his head, “please, I only came tonight in hopes of seeing her.”
Sapra turns around at the bar to speak with the bartender, and he gives her a napkin and a pen. She clicks the pen and turns around, handing it to Harry. He didn’t tell them he knew where she lived.
“She tells me you said something dumb, and I’ll make sure to burn your empire to the ground,” Sapra promises. Dawn whispers for her to cool it, but Harry understands where she’s coming from.
“Do you know when that restaurant closes down the block from her house? She told me she really likes their soup there.”
Sapra shared a look with Dawn. Yeah, it seemed that Harry had some feelings to sort through.
Harry takes a deep breath. He isn’t sure if she’ll let him in or even want to see him. If it were him, he’d take one look and slam the door shut. Well, he won’t know until he finds out. He knocks two times and takes a step back, allowing himself to look down at her doormat. There is a range of wildflowers displayed, and if Harry’s honest, he has no idea what their names could be. As Harry focuses on anything but the door, he fails to realize it has fallen open.
“Harry?” She whispers, confused.
Harry lifts his head, flashing her a smile. “Hi, how are you?”
She ignores his questions. “How are you here?” Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I bet it was Dawn; she’s a softie.”
“Do–Would it be okay if I came in?” He stutters.
Y/N tilts her head and looks his head to toe in his velvet suit, his mask forgotten in his car. She knows this is weird and has a right to kick him out, but he’s carrying a bag, and Y/N can smell the hot vegetable soup she craves when she’s sick.
She moves back, and Harry takes it as a sign to come in. He lets out a sign in relief. While Y/N locks the door, he toes off his shoes, noticing the shoe rack by the door. Y/N thanks him quietly, and he follows after like a lost puppy. She grabs two bowls while Harry begins to unpack the food. He wasn’t sure how much she would like, and Kim, the waitress, suggested two of their largest sizes, and he agreed.
Harry takes the bowl from Y/N and begins to serve her a healthy amount, knowing if she has too much, she could end up puking it all up.
“Thank you, Harry.”
She grabs her bowl and heads to her couch. As she settles in wrapping herself in a blanket, she sets the bowl on her lap. Harry stays frozen in the kitchen, unsure if he’s allowed in her space.
“Are you going to make me eat alone?”
“Sorry?” He breathes out.
“Serve yourself and come sit. You brought me so much soup I’m not going to finish it all on my own”
Harry grabs the second bowl, notices the strawberries, and laughs. He likes getting to see more pieces of Y/N. From her linked shoes at the door, he can tell she’s organized. As he walks further into her living room, he sees a full bookcase with hundreds of books and a little reading nook with a stack of books waiting to be read. He sits at the other end of her couch, sinking into the comfortable cushion; he smiles at her record player and wonders what she last listened to.
“Do you want a blanket?”
He sighs. Y/N’s a sweetheart treating him kindly, accepting him as a guest in her home. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
They settle into silence, and usually, Harry finds it annoying, always needing a conversation to be going even if he isn’t leading it. However, with Y/N, he relishes the silence because he enjoys her presence. No words are needed.
Y/N ate until she was full, meaning she left her bowl clean, not embarrassed to have Harry see her slurp the last bits of her soup. Harry refilled her water as he placed her rinsed dishes in her dishwasher.
“How was the gala?” She asks after he settles back in his seat.
“Awful,” he answers honestly. It was the truth, he knew Y/N prided herself in the work she did for each event, but he couldn’t lie to her.
Y/N frowns, “good means I didn’t miss anything important.”
He’s surprised she had no hand in the event, but if he thinks about it, each gala he has been in attendance of where Y/N has helped always went without a hitch. He can’t say the same about tonight. “You didn’t plan this event?”
She smiles at his shock. “Not this time. Sapra heard it was a masquerade ball and begged me to get her in. How were the ice sculptures?”
Harry laughs, “melting, a puddle of water all around.”
“Oh, bummer.” She shakes her head, upset she missed it. “They have awful AC in that building.”
Y/N proceeds to tell him about how they reached out, but she’s had a busy schedule, and as much as she loves her job, she’s still only an intern who needs time for her studies and herself.
“Is that why you fell sick? Overworking?” He asks, concerned.
She giggles, “no, I have a healthy work and life balance, thankfully.” Y/N’s phone rings interrupting her. She apologizes as she’s sending off a text before giving her attention back to him. “My neighbor Terry has a one-year-old, and I was babysitting her for the night. We didn’t know she had the sniffles until she woke up colicky from a nap. Turns out their bub was sick; thus, she gave me the bug that took me down.”
“How’s the bub doing?”
“Oh, she’s a fighter. She was not a big crier; she needed a few cuddles and medicine, and she was much better. The thing about babies: they get sick and are better the day after. Their bodies next time around will have now built a strong immune system able to fend it off even better.” Y/N feels her face flush, feeling she shared a bit too much.
Harry sends her a dimpled smile. “My little sister is having a baby in a few months. I think it’s essential to know how to help. Thank you, don’t think parenting books are always so helpful for uncles.”
Y/N can’t hide her grin at Harry’s confession. “Oh, that’s lovely, Harry. Send her my best. I have a link for the best stroller, and I mean the best. It's easy to fold even when she might be on her own. I’ll send it your way.”
Before Harry can thank her, a ding rings loud, and it’s his phone signaling, he’s received her message. “I appreciate it. It’ll make a good gift.”
Her eyes widened, seeing the stroller's price.  “Do you need a discount? I got lots of coupons for this website.” She offers.
Harry is surprised she offered. She must know he’s well off. A stroller that costs a few hundred bucks won’t make a dent in his bank account.
“Sent it anyway,” Y/N tells him. “It’s good for six months.”
“Thank you.”
Y/N grins, happy to be useful even when sick.
Harry takes in her tired eyes and knows he’s taken too much of her time. Instead of letting her rest, he made her stay up when she could have been sleeping.
“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome,” Harry stands up, offering her a sheepish grin.
“No–” she’s cut off by a yawn.
She laughs, rubbing her eye, trying to will the sleep away. “I’m sleepy when I’m sick.”
“Thank you for letting me in.”
“Thanks for the soup,” she counters.
Y/N walks him to the door, the blanket wrapped over her as she tries to keep herself warm. “Will you be alright alone?” He checks, not wanting to leave her alone if she gets worse while sleeping.
She notes his concern, and Y/N knows she can tell him it doesn’t concern him, but he did come out of his way to check on her. “Dawn promised she’s on her way here to give me cuddles. I'm a big baby when I’m sick. Get all clingy.”
Harry can imagine her lying on his chest, blankets up to her neck as he holds her close, rubbing her back. Warm tea and soup at hand to make sure she’s eating. He would love to care for her, but that would be crossing a line. Neither of them were ready for all because of Harry’s stupidity.
“Y/N, before I go, I wanted to apologize. I–It seems every interaction with you, I only seem to leave a bad impression. I genuinely think you’re an amazing person and felt lucky to take you on a date, but after ignoring you, I feel I keep messing everything up. Will–is it okay to call you my friend, or if we can take a step in that direction.”
She knows there’s no possible way they could be friends, not with the chemistry they have together, but Y/N appreciates where he’s coming from.
“Friends it is, Styles.”
“Friends,” he confirms.
And maybe something more.
It had been a month since Harry saw Y/N sick in her apartment. He texted her the morning after, and she promised she was doing better; her headache was gone. She teased him about the soup, saying it was the abundance of soup that cured her. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the fact that Y/N thought he was helpful. God, he was really head over heels for her, but they were friends. Friends that texted and sent photos of things that reminded them of each other (Harry was on the receiving end of most images. He did practice his use of emojis for her).
Y/N was going through exams and focusing on the internal work of her internship, as in paperwork and the hiring process to take her on after graduation. She let him know she was still considering her options, but Y/N knew she would be saying yes because the pay was well above what she went in asking for, and she had a healthy work environment. It made him happy to see how well things were going for her. It made him want to invite her to tour his office. He wanted to see her sit in his office chair as she looked at the view of the city.
Wake and Wonder were holding a gala to raise money for their new NICU ward. Harry was part of the board for this event and knew Y/N would be attending, having heard her name throughout the night from the guests. Over the last few months, Harry began to see the importance of these events and attending, most of the guests were snobby and stuck up, but every person working for their organization cared. They were working hard for others and not for their own gain. Harry might have it easy to write checks, so if he can give back, he will.
Tonight, Harry decided to be a bit bold. He left the velvet suit behind and wore a pink Alexander McQueen suit. A double-breasted jacket featured pink embroidered flowers with green stems and leaves down the front. He paired it with matching wide-leg trousers, a white button-down, and black boots. He felt confident in all his suits, but this one was special. It was the first suit he bought himself when he got his first client that would change his life. He knew it brought him luck, and he needed a bit of that tonight.
Every woman he encountered tonight had on a full-out gown. It seemed they were, for once, following the theme to a t. Harry was nursing an amaretto sour when a glimmer of yellow floated by in the corner of his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only one whose attention was caught. The person went straight to Alexander, the host for the night. He looked elegant in a black suit with gold embroidery around the jacket sleeves and down the front that connected to look like constellations. His partner wore something similar, opting for a deep blue to bring out his eyes, the gold embroidery found coming up his sleeves ending right below his elbows. Harry knew they had an eye for design and liked when they hosted events. The two men hugged her, thanking her. He didn’t realize he had gotten closer until he was able to pick up her voice.
It was angelic. It was familiar. It was Y/N.
She was wearing an elegant yellow satin gown. It had a princess silhouette with puffy short sleeves. He could see the corset back from the few feet away he stood. He knows Dawn must have had to help her, and for some reason, he can’t take the idea out of his head of helping her loosen the corset and out of the dress. It’s a fantasy he needs to push away as Y/N happens to be coming his way.
“Ms. Y/LN,” he greets with a gentle smile.
“Mr. Styles,” she flashes him a bashful grin and makes her way across the venue to mingle with the guest.
That was progress. She offered him a gorgeous smile, one he knew would stay imprinted in his mind forever. Now, all he needs is to gain some courage. Throughout the evening, Y/N danced around him. It’s as if she could sense him coming and would shift in another direction, allowing them both to get tangled in conversation. Harry did not like the chase, but Y/N held all the power in her hands, and he’d do anything for a moment of her time.
Harry was tired, not of Y/N playing a game of mouse with him but of the event. Usually, he spends an hour at most and then heads home, but tonight he’s two hours in, and he’s tired of all the talks and acting like he isn’t dying to speak with Y/N, but he respects her, and he’s been an idiot for too long to ruin the foundation they have created.
He was watching couples on the dance floor, criticizing their waltz. Many were lost in conversation to remember the importance of holding their partner close and letting one person lead.
“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greets with a cheeky grin. He doesn’t hide his surprise as he looks away from the dance floor. He takes her in, admiring her shining eyes and perfect makeup.
“Hi,” he breathes out. “You look beautiful.”
Y/N offers him another smile, a more timid one than her previous one. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to dance?” Harry offers, extending a hand toward Y/N.
She stares at him for a second before placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, his right-hand settling high under her shoulder, his fingers together and pointed down. Her left arm rests softly on his shoulder like a bird perched on a branch. Her hand arched, fingertips behind his shoulder and thumb in front. He feels the lightest touch. Y/N raises her head, meeting his eye as she places the palm of her right hand in the palm of his left, resting her fingers in the cradle between his thumb and forefinger. They both fold their things softly over each other. It’s a light touch, and Harry gets the sense that Y/N is well-versed in the waltz.
“Have you waltzed before, Y/N?” Harry asks as he begins to lead. It’s one of the easiest dances to learn but easy to get lost if a partner is not allowed to lead.
She scoffs, “Surprised?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I am intrigued.”
Y/N laughs, letting Harry lead her around the dance floor. “In undergrad, a few GEs are pointless.” Harry gives her a pointed look. “Come on, Harry. You know what I mean.” The truth is he does. “Anyways, I took a dance class and learned a choreographed dance, tap, salsa, and waltz. That’s only a few.”
Harry nods, impressed, “a woman of many trades, huh.”
She shakes her head because it’s useless talents, but they’re hers. Who knows when one day she might need them, like today, dancing with a handsome man.
“I love this song,” Y/N tells him as he brings her back from a spin. “Moon river makes you feel lost in time.”
Harry agrees, “thank you, Aubrey Hepburn.”
Y/N gasps in surprise, “you know Hepburn?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He teases.
She feels her face flush because he’s right, but Y/N grew up watching these films with her grandmother every Sunday. Some children got taken to church, and Y/N was taught about the best movies to ever exist growing up.
“What’s tonight's theme?” Harry asks Y/N, no longer wanting to dance in silence. He loves her voice.
“Disney, but more specifically, Disney princesses,” she answers with a soft smile.
“And you are?”
She gestures to her dress, the beautiful yellow silk. “Don’t know, Ariel.”
He throws his head back laughing, she teases him with no care, and he loves that he did deserve it. It’s clear what princess she was trying to resemble. “You’re a beauty. You put Belle to shame,” he confesses.
Y/N bites back a grin. “Seeing as she’s an animated character. Thank you.”
Harry’s smile drops, and he falters in his seat, causing Y/N to stumble, but he rights her up like nothing happened. “No, I mean–”
“I know,” she breathes out, giggling at his panic.
As Harry releases the anxiety that passes through him, he goes back to complimenting Y/N. “You fit the role nicely.”
“Does that make you Gaston, my Beast, or Lumiere?” Y/N asks with a smirk.
He doesn’t take the bait.  “Haha, very funny.”
She shrugs, “I try.”
The song is coming to a finish, and Harry wonders how long she’s going to allow him to dance with her. “I’m no prince, but I’d like to be the person who’s able to capture your heart,” he confesses, putting everything out there.
“You’re a poet now?’
Harry smirks, “you don’t take compliments, do you, beauty?”
“I'm not easily swooned,” she confesses.
“I like challenges,” he answers carelessly.
Harry feels her stiffen instantly and knows he’s messed up. In a matter of seconds, he managed to ruin this fun, peaceful energy he had with Y/N.”
“Mr. Styles,” her voice cold and distant. “Thank you for the dance.”
She drops her hands and walks away. Harry reacts quickly. He goes to reach for her but thinks otherwise and instead calls her name.
“No, Y/N, wait, please,” he begs.
She pauses, turning to look at him.
“I shit- you make me incredibly nervous, and I hate that.” She frowns but lets him continue. “You make me question my every thought. Your beauty is overwhelming, and I–I’m older than you. I know that, and the fear of you not liking that or someone saying anything rude to you has stopped me from allowing myself to pursue you. I apologize. I’m so damn sorry.”
“The pursuit ended the minute you said no to me,” she tells him honestly.
“But I-”
She holds her hand up, and he stops talking. “I respect you, Harry. But I also respect myself. I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I’m not taking any part. It was a wonderful dance, but I’ll be on my way.”
Harry knows she’s right. He’s messed up, but she deserves his honesty. “Y/N, let me say one last thing.”
She gestures for him to go on.
“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t, but would you go on a date with me? No pretense or auction, just you and me where I can get to know you. I’d really love to get to know you.” He asks, putting his heart on the line.
She looks down at her heels, swaying back and forth, and the silence lasts a few seconds, but Harry feels it’s been hours by the time she replies. “Okay,” she agrees.”
“I respect–you will?” He asks, surprised.
She giggles, “I’d love to see you when you’re being charming because, truthfully, as much as I've been enjoying awkward Harry, I’d love to see more. You have my number, and it’s your only chance.”
Harry places his hand over his heart. “I promise I’ll treat you well. Thank you for saying yes.”
Y/N smiles, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Styles.”
He couldn’t wait to see her for their date.
This was his third time standing outside Y/N’s apartment door. This time was different. He felt he could throw up from the nerves. He spoke with his Mum before driving to Y/N’s apartment and shared how he felt nervous about a date. She reminded him he needed to be himself and wear his confidence with pride. It’s something he learned from a young age.
Growing up, he had crazy curls that led to endless teasing, and one day he decided he had enough and got a haircut. He looked in the mirror the following day and didn’t recognize who he was. He let himself be influenced by others, and since then, he decided he wouldn’t care what others said about him. While in uni, he grew out his hair going through the long hair phase that drove his Mum crazy, but his sister loved it as he allowed her to braid it. It’s also when he began getting all his tattoos. Harry had to go through a journey of self-discovery to gain his confidence and keep it.
Tonight, he had confidence, but his biggest worry was Y/N not enjoying the date. All he wants is for her to have a pleasant time with him with no ruse or promise of a check at the end of the night.
Harry knocks twice and waits for her to come to the door. There’s a bouquet of pink roses in his hands because it reminded him of Y/N. He doesn’t know her favorite, but he’ll be sure to ask tonight. Y/N opens the door dressed in what he assumes is her casual wear. She’s got loose jeans and a black button-up she kept open with a white top under. A white ribbon in her hair made her messy bun look perfect. He notices this is another time he sees ribbon in her hair, and he’s curious to see how many strings she has and how many colors. She’s beautiful, and he’d happily remind her every chance he gets tonight.
“Hi, Y/N, you look beautiful.”
Y/N smiles, accepting the flowers he is offering her. The pink roses are beautiful as if there were just cut from the garden. She gestures for him to come in as she grabs a vase from her kitchen. He’s quiet as he watches her work in her kitchen. Once satisfied with how they sit in the vase, she turns her attention back to him.
“Thank you, Harry. It was very sweet of you.”
Harry shrugs, a blush setting on his cheeks. “Anything for you, beauty.”
Y/N’s back is turned to him, not allowing him to see her reaction to the term of endearment. As she grabs her bag and slips it on her shoulder, she offers him a squeeze on his arm, and he takes that as an okay to keep using it. As she’s locking up her door, Harry waits and asks about her day. She shares about having an easy day of classes and how she’s glad she didn’t have to work. Harry opens his car door and helps Y/N into the car. Y/N can see what he means by charming now.
The drive is filled with aimless chatter about the songs Harry is playing and how nice the weather has been lately. Y/N notices they’re headed toward a residential area and not into the city. Harry decides to share what he has planned for them tonight.
“I was thinking we can have a wine and paint night in my backyard if you're up for it.” He runs his free hand through his hair, sparing a look at her before focusing back on the road.
“You want to paint?” She exclaims.
He shrugs, “thought it’d be fun.”
She leans back into her seat, keeping her eyes on Harry as he holds a tight grip on the steering wheel. “I think it sounds perfect.”
Harry sighs in relief, good that’s good.
Arriving at Harry’s house, he feels his nerves coming back because he’s bringing the woman he likes to the place he calls home, where he finds comfort. It’s where he comes back home after a long day of work. He doesn’t know what he’ll feel after seeing her among all his things because he’s sure she’ll be a perfect fit and will struggle to let her go.
Y/N takes in the art pieces he has around the entrance of his house and photos of his family. The credenza by the entrance holds a key bowl where Harry drops his wallet and keys inside. He doesn’t remove his shoes and instead goes through the kitchen's double doors. Y/N isn’t sure if she is supposed to follow him, but a book on his coffee table captures her attention. It’s titled Raising Good Humans. She reads the first page as Harry makes his way back to her with two glasses of wine, one red and one orange.
She places the book down when Harry offers her a choice, and she accepts the orange wine, curious how it might taste. He gestures to the book, “I bought it for my sister, but I realized she probably won’t want to read it all, so I’m highlighting and bookmarking the important sections.”
Y/N hums in surprise. She didn’t take Harry for a caring guy, but here he is, proving her wrong. It’s clear how much he loves his family. “I’m sure she appreciates all the help.”
Harry laughs, “she told me she’s waiting to cash in for all the times I ever embarrassed her.”
“Oh, I understand being the youngest with an older brother. I swear he lived to embarrass me.” She shares that as much as she loved Matias, he was still a pain in her butt at one point in her life.
“Someone needed to look out for her,” he offers. “Come on, it’s out this way.”
His kitchen is gorgeous. The kitchen has color-filled floral wallpaper. There are pops of colors, making the backdrop feel neutral. The cabinets are maroon, closer to pink than red, and the three chairs are muted cyan that sit against the countertop. Y/N can see herself taking a seat there as Harry cooks them dinner. She shakes the thought out of her head and heads out the French patio doors where two easels sit side by side, a small stand in between them to hold their glass of wine and cheese that Harry has set up for them.
“I’m lactose intolerant,” she shares as she eyes the cheese.
Harry’s eyes widen in surprise, and he mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me not even asking what you would prefer. I have cookies if you’d like. They’re gluten-free though or–”
He cuts himself off when he sees her laughing behind her wine glass, and that’s when he realizes she’s joking. Harry shakes his head, their laughter mixing together in the air.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters.
“You’re cheeky, beauty.”
Y/N sets her finished wine glass down as she sees a black canvas apron with her name embroidered resting on what she assumes is her chair. She lifts it gently, running her finger over the yellow stitching. Harry slips his one, his last name embroidered on his, and she knows these must have been specially ordered. The material feels expensive and as if it were made with great care.
“Harry, this is too much.”
He laughs, “it’s nothing, Y/N. I wanted tonight to be special.”
She slips the top over her head and turns away from her, “can you help me tie the back?”
Harry steps close, standing right behind her, his mouth right by her neck. Y/N feels tense at the close intimacy. She doesn’t hurry Harry; she simply enjoys the closeness he’s offering her.
“All done,” he whispers.
She turns to meet his gaze, his eyes lingering before flickering to her lips. He nods, taking a step back, not wanting to cross any lines with her. He’s letting her set their pace.
“More wine, Beauty?”
“Yes, please. It was so good. It tasted just like an orange.”
Harry knows her lips must taste just as sweet. “It’s a favorite of mine. Glad you like it.”
He fills their wine glasses and comes back to sit next to her. He explains all the materials he has for them and how the painting to recreate is a lighthouse with a night sky background. It looks complex, and Y/N knows if she tries to copy it, it will look nothing like the original.
They began painting in silence. Harry had instrumental music playing and told her she could play what she liked, but she assured him she was enjoying the music. The silence was soon filled with chatter as Y/N asked questions, and Harry happily responded. What jobs did he work growing up? Bakery and a bookstore. If he was a good swimmer? Yes. His worst hangover? His best friend Mitch’s bachelor party in Greece. What he liked to bake? Cherry tarts. The questions never seemed to end because she wanted to know everything, but Harry was the same. He asked about her travels and where she wanted to go in the next year? Amsterdam. Her favorite movie? Pride and Prejudice. Her favorite book? A Thousand Splendid Suns.
Y/N was learning a lot about Harry and wanted to soak it all in, not forgetting anything. The first time she met Harry, she thought he was closed off and stuck up. That he had walls up so high, he’d never let anyone in, but Harry today was charming and kind. He gave her his undivided attention and asked questions wanting to get to know her. Harry was closed off because of his high position and how easily people had walked over him. Y/N had always worn her heart on her sleeve, but tonight with Harry, she wanted to keep it protected, but he made it so easy to give herself away.
“Are you ready, beauty?”
She takes a long look at her finished painting and decides she has no other choice. “Ready,” she breathed out.
Harry and Y/N turn their painting to each other, and Y/N gasps at Harry’s beautiful painting while Harry laughs at hers. Harry managed to draw a perfect resemblance of the lighthouse with the moon shining bright and the water so reflective that she felt if she touched it, her hand would go through the painting. “That’s gorgeous, Harry.”
Harry pointed to Y/N, “what did you draw?”
Y/N pouts, looking down at her painting. It might not be a lighthouse, but she loved what she painted. It’s a mermaid with short brown hair and a flower on their head. The scales of the mermaid’s tail were various shades of yellow, green, and blue. The mermaid was looking away into the deep blue sea background. It was nowhere near perfect, but she loved it. “It’s you,” she tells him. “As a mermaid–or well, merman.”
He points to himself, “that’s me!”
She giggles, proud of herself. “Yes, how I picture you if you were born a mermaid. I reckon you’d be the heir to the throne.”
Harry blushes and knows Y/N can tell. He doesn’t mind because she deserves to see the effect she has on him.
“I think I’d be a good-looking mermaid.”
“You'd be the prettiest mermaid in the sea, no competition.”
Harry giggles, letting the compliment soak in. “If you were there, I imagine I’d have a run for my money, beauty.”
She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Harry,” she drags out his name, turning away from him, her smile wide. His dimples pop out as he holds back from teasing her and instead asks if she’s hungry.
“I’d love some pizza,” she tells him honestly.
“Then I’ll get you pizza, beauty. Any preferences for toppings?”
“Love jalapeños.”
“Is pepperoni and jalapeños alright?”
“Perfect, Harry. Thank you.” She leans in to give him a kiss on his cheek. Harry mumbles no worries, his face burning from the sign of affection.
Dinner was delicious, and pizza was the perfect meal to share. Harry wrapped the leftovers and slipped them into a paper bag for Y/N to take home. She argued he should keep it because he paid (she offered, but he refused), but he told her that he remembered life during university, and she couldn’t argue with that logic. Harry drove her home, promising he only had that original cup of wine, and then switched to sparkling water. While Y/N allowed herself to have three glasses, two during the painting session and one during dinner. The drive to her apartment was different than driving to his house. They went from quiet small talk and listening to Harry’s playlists to telling each other their favorite childhood stories.
By the time Harry pulled up to Y/N’s apartment, she had realized that more dates like this with Harry would make her fall deep in love with him. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but a second date sounded perfect. Harry opened her car door and walked her to her door. He handed Y/N her bag and the leftover pizza after she unlocked the door, and she placed the items on her small entrance table. She shut the door, turning to look at Harry and bid him good night. Y/N realized through the night, Harry was careful with his touches and would only reciprocate anything she initiated.
Harry stares at her with a dimpled smile, and she knows that smile will become her weakness.
“My favorite flowers are calla lilies,” she tells him as she leans against her apartment door.
Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Does that mean she enjoyed tonight as much as he did? “Does that mean we’re going on a second date?”
She smirks, “I’d be open to the idea.”
He steps towards Y/N, allowing her to stop him, but she doesn’t. Her hands come to rest on his chest. He’s thankful she doesn’t mention the quickening of his heartbeat.
“Is this okay?” He breathes out.
Y/N’s hands fist the ends of his open jacket. He doesn’t care if his jacket wrinkles. He only cares that she wants him closer.
Harry leans his head down, his nose brushing against hers. Y/N pulls him closer, desperate to close the gap between them.
“Beauty,” he whispers.
“You can kiss me.” She tells him, “I want you to kiss me.”
She stands on her tiptoes, her hand curling around the back of his neck. His skin is warm, and I grab the hair at the nape and pull him toward me. Y/N knew she would end the night kissing him when he showed up with pink roses at her front door, calling her Beauty.
His hands came up to her cheeks, his mouth eager as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming, she knew kissing Harry would be like no other, but this was everything. He was gentle but firm and in control of the kiss. He knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her. He tasted of cherries, his lip balm he told her he carried everywhere, never one for dried lips. It paid off because his soft lips were addictive, and after getting a taste, she didn't know how long she’d be able to go without him.
“You taste sweet, beauty,” he confessed, pulling back, giving her a dimpled smile when he saw the dazed look on her face.
“You can have another taste.”
Harry giggles, “if I knew a kiss would make you so kind, I’d have kissed you sooner,” he teased.
“You can keep kissing me now,” she offered.
Harry was tempted to say yes, to keep kissing her out here as the moon shined down on them, but he knew he’d see her soon. He’d make sure of it.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to plan out our next date.”
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. “Goodnight, Harry.”
“Sweet dreams, beauty.”
Harry kissed her one last time, then broke away. She leaned against the door frame as she watched him walk towards his car, turning to wave at her one last time before driving away.
Yeah, Y/N was excited to see Harry again.
After their date, Harry spent every free moment he had with Y/N. Their second date consisted of bowling and wings. Y/N had managed to win by a landslide. Harry complained how it wasn’t fair and to make up for Harry being a sore loser Y/N was happy to indulge him in kisses. It seemed Harry was a winner after all. Harry promised her he wanted to keep seeing her, and Y/N repeated the sentiment.
It seemed from then, their time together grew. Harry would visit Y/N during her lunch on the days she was at work and grabbed dinner most nights after her internships. Harry would pick Y/N up from campus and ask her what she was in the mood for. The answer was almost always ice cream which he was happy to indulge her with.
Sunday, he came to learn were grocery days for Y/N, and after he paid for her the first time he went, he got banned from accompanying her again, which led to Harry sending her groceries every other week. She couldn’t get mad because, without fail, her bouquet of calla lilies would arrive soon after. Y/N had never felt affection this way, and after a talk with Harry, he expressed it was his love language and quality time. He thought he was overwhelming her and promised he’d do better, and it broke her heart for Harry to believe she was anything but appreciative. After talking, she allowed him to surprise her with small gifts, but nothing out of the ordinary because if he showed up with a diamond necklace, she would be breaking up with him.
“Does that mean we’re dating Beauty?”
She rolls her eyes, “unless you don’t want to.”
He clicks his tongue at her response, “now, don’t be mean, baby.”
Y/N seemed to always fall for his term of endearment; something about his accent got her going crazy. “Yes, Harry, we’re dating.”
Harry smirks, liking the thought of being Y/N’s. Their time from then on increased. From coffee dates to morning walks on the weekends and late-night phone calls when Y/N couldn’t sleep and would ask Harry to keep her company. It seemed to happen during the middle of the week, and he’d wake up tired the next day for work, but Y/N was worth it. She apologized every time she called and sounded like she woke him up, but he’d ask Y/N to tell him about her thesis, and she’d settled down as he listened intently and asked her questions when it was allowed.
On weekends Harry would come over to Y/N’s and spend the evening making dinner together, watching TV shows Harry has never heard of, and Y/N promised he needed to watch because he was missing out. Truthfully, he watched to indulge her but came to look forward to their time watching New Girl together. Their evenings started with them sitting next to each other, then her arm resting on his thigh and his arm over her shoulder. He realized Y/N was a big cuddler, always wanting Harry to hold her and be the little spoon. He didn’t mind loving how snug she felt against him. She started falling asleep halfway through the episodes, laughing when Y/N mumbled a reply to the show. Over time, they’d go from cuddling to Y/N sitting in his lap kissing, ignoring whatever was on TV. Their hands explored everywhere above clothing. They rocked against each other, but they’d always stop before taking it a step further, and Harry respected Y/N too much to cross a line she wasn’t ready for with him.
Harry was happy to have her kisses.
Y/N, at this point, had talked so much about her thesis that Harry could understand from a certain perspective what she was writing about and allowed him to read over his thesis and make any annotations for her to fix, grammatically, of course. Harry was honestly very proud of her; it was clear how much work and dedication she had put into her thesis, and he knew she'd do it with ease when it was time to defend it.
“You’re my smart girl, huh. Going to run the world.”
Y/N would hide her face in his chest when he began with the compliments, easily getting overwhelmed. It seemed that dating Harry had brought her happiness she never saw coming.
It was odd if they spent time at Harry’s house. It was more convenient for them to spend time at Y/N’s. Harry didn’t mind because he loved being surrounded in a space that was all hers. Tonight, Harry took Y/N to a sushi restaurant for dinner, and instead of driving her back home, she promised it was still early enough to go to his house and watch a movie. She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet pout, and he found himself saying yes. He can’t remember a time she allowed him to say no, not that he would ever want to.
Harry played a documentary he had wanted to watch, and Y/N promised she’d stay awake and that the coffee she had earlier in the day would help. Although he doubted it because her coffees seemed to always be on the sweeter side. It was half an hour in that he heard her soft breathing. He knew she would be sleeping until the end of the documentary. Harry was happy to have her cuddled to his chest, that she was comfortable enough to fall asleep. It was close to two hours later that the documentary ended, and Harry looked at the time and realized how late it was and that he still had to drive Y/N home.
“Baby, wake up.”
Nothing. He tried again.
“Beauty, come on. Got to get you home.”
She groaned, burying her face deep in his neck, not bothering to pick her head up.
“Come on, it’s late, baby.”
She raised her hand to her mouth, covering her yawn as she began to sit up.
“Hi,” he cooed softly. “I’ll give you a minute, then we can head out.”
Y/N shook her head, “can I stay?” she whispered.
Harry couldn’t hide his surprise at her request. “You want to stay here?”
“Please, lovie?” Her eyes were filled with sleep, and he wanted her to stay; of course, he did. Tomorrow was Sunday, and the fact that he had the chance to wake up to her tomorrow would not be something he passed up.
“Of course, baby.” Harry lifts his hand to cradle her cheek. She turns her head to kiss his palm; he feels himself melt at her affection.
He helps Y/N to her feet and guides her up the steps to his bedroom. She walks in and sits on his bed as he finds her clothes.
“There’s face wash, a spare toothbrush, and towels in the bathroom for you to use,” he tells her as he hands her an oversized shirt and spare boxers. She thanks him silently as she drags herself to his bathroom. As Y/N gets herself ready for bed, Harry does the same. He washed his bedsheets two nights before and knows it’ll be okay for Y/N to sleep in. As Harry slipped out of his button-up and pants, he wore shorts and an old Stevie Nicks shirt, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable.
She walks out a few minutes later, clothes in her hand, his oversized company t-shirt on her frame with nothing else. He’s quick to avert his gaze, surprised to see her only half-dressed.
“Were the boxers not okay?”
“Don’t want them to sleep. Is that okay?”
He nods “ of course, come on, let me tuck you in.”
Y/N drops her clothes by his window nook. Harry has imagined Y/N in his room more times than he counts but now that he has her here, he knows he’s never going to get the image out of his head. She gets under the covers and sighs when the cool sheets hit her skin. She scoots all the way to the middle of the bed. Harry checks to see if she’s comfortable and is about to turn the lights off and leave when she calls his name.
“Where you going?” Y/N asks, concern in her voice.
“To the guest room.”
“You don’t want to sleep with me?”
Harry’s heart feels heavy in his chest, seeing that he has upset her. “I didn’t want to assume,” he tells her honestly.
“Come, sleep with me.” She extends her hand to him, and he’s happy to accept. Harry throws the cover away and drags himself right next to Y/N, placing his hand on her waist and bringing her closer. She turns to rest her head on his chest, using him as a pillow.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
Harry closes his eyes but feels Y/N move. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Kiss, please?”
If he wasn’t careful, he’s sure he’d fall in love with Y/N, but something tells him it’s a little late for that. He leans down and presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. She hums in appreciation, letting him pull away without a fight giving her a final kiss on her forehead. Now they can both sleep content. As Y/N settles back down on his chest, about to close her eyes, a painting on Harry’s wall captures her attention. It’s hanging next to a photo of a lake in his hometown. It’s a mermaid painting, specifically the one she painted with Harry on their first date two months ago. She told him to keep it, but she didn’t think he’d actually hold on to it, let alone hang it up for him to see every day he wakes up. Y/N sighs against his chest, snuggling closer to him, feeling content to fall asleep in Harry’s arms, knowing she’ll be safe and cared for because Harry never fails to shower her in love and affection.
She can’t wait to make breakfast with him tomorrow, but for now, she’ll sleep.
Harry regretted inviting Y/N to the golf tournament. Pleasing hosts this golf event annually for new and old partners. He hadn’t prepared for how good she would look dressed in an active pink skirt and a white polo tank that hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was up and out of her face, and she had a pink visor on her head to prevent sunburn. She looked prepared for a game of golf, where she promised she wouldn’t play besides chatting up the investors. He was clearly in over his head. Harry had taken one look at her when he picked her up and asked her if she wanted to stay home with him instead. She laughed, hopping into his car, reminding him he had promised her breakfast and she was craving a bagel.
“Hmm…” She turned to look at Harry with a beautiful smile on her face, just for him.
He reaches over and brings her in for a kiss. He sighs against her mouth, happy to have her here with him. As much as he loves his company, he only does this to make more connections and keep his company growing.
“If you get tired or hungry, just let me know, and we can take a break.”
She shakes her head, “this is important for you,” she reminds him. “I’ll be fine. Plus, you fed me and filled my water bottle.” She rubs her tummy to show him how full she still is.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my priority.” He assures her.
Y/N scrunches her nose, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You’re an absolute sweetheart, lovie.”
Harry hurries out of the car to help Y/N out, earning him another kiss, he’s tempted to push her up against his car and keep kissing her, but Y/N seems eager to see him golf. He checks them in and gets the keys to his golf cart as she waits on the side, looking at the clean facilities. She overhears the receptionist telling Harry they’ll start at hole one on the east side, and his guest will be sent that way.
She trailed behind Harry taking in the lovely view in front of her. His outfit was anything but ordinary. He wore pastel yellow flared pants that hugged his ass just right. A black polo tucked in and a simple Gucci belt completes his look. He decided against a hat but had his glove ready on his left hand for that extra support. Y/N loved the contrast of his tattoos and how his tan skin seemed to shine due to the sunblock she helped lather him in. He almost always has hidden his tattoos, wearing a suit and sweater. She knew it was because of work, and he was easily cold, but she never took moments like these for granted. The contrast of tattoos on his arms while his left hand had endless tattoos, his right hand only a few. She had to wonder what he hid underneath. She had only ever seen the peek of two swallows on his chest.
“Beauty, you alright?” Harry is standing against a golf cart numbered thirteen. It’s been known to be an unlucky number, but she’s never seen it that way.
She shakes away her thoughts and focuses on the man in front of her. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart since the moment they started officially dating a few months ago, and she’s thankful she decided to give him a chance and that he proved to be a good person and not the cold man she met many moons ago,
“Sorry, I was just admiring. Haven’t been to the golf course in some time.” She takes his extended hand and slides into the golf cart, his hand settling on her bare, exposed thigh. A shiver runs up her spine. She’s ready to take it to the next level with Harry but has no idea how to bring it up.
Harry and Y/N don’t have to wait long when a group of men and a few women come and greet Harry. There is a mix of young and older individuals chatting, and Y/N right away spots the man who keeps to himself, much like Harry. He’s an older gentleman dressed in black slacks, a maroon vest, black gloves on both hands, and a frown on his face. Harry introduces her to Jeff, Niall, and Tyler, his good friends. He promised her if she needed anything, she could ask them. They were all welcoming, asking her questions, not a lot of teasing, but they assured Y/N that Harry wasn’t the grump he made himself out to be.
During the first few holes, a lot of conversation was happening, and Y/N sat in the golf cart because she didn’t know how she fit into this crowd. She was a graduate student among these men and a few women who run these million-dollar companies. She hated that Harry felt obligated to bring her because it was their date night, and he didn’t want to cancel their plans. He convinced her when he told her he’d miss her too much if he didn’t see her this weekend.
Harry, after every swing, turns to find Y/N, who’s already looking at him. He came over, and she’d kiss him, telling him how impressive the swing was and that she knew he would win. Slowly, Y/N began to let herself mingle and talk with the other players. She seemed to always gravitate back towards Harry and his small group.
Y/N was standing, arms crossed, visor lowered as the sun beamed down on her. There was a lot of chatter when she realized that the man with the vest who caught her eye was alone again; she decided to approach him as Harry was wrapped up in conversation.
“Hi,” she greets. “I’m Y/N.”
The tall man with eyes as blue as the ocean turns to look at her. He looks at her stretched hand and reaches out to shake hers. “Malcolm Levington. A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”
“You as well, Mr. Levington.”
He grimaces, “Malcolm is fine.”
She shrugs, “if you say so.” Before he can ask what she’s doing speaking with him, she asks a question. “What is it you do?”
“I’m the owner of Star Horizons,” he shares.
“The hotels,” Y/N gasps.
He laughs, “the very one.”
“Oh, your hotel ballrooms are hard to get a hold of. I’ve been trying to plan an event there for ages. It finally happened a few months back, but it hurt to be told the wait was so long.”
Mr. Levington frowns, “what event was it?”
“Oh, uh, we had a private action event for Hermanas Unidas. They wanted to raise money to open a second location. We exceeded expectations thanks to generous donations and hired full-time staff to get it up and running in two months.”
“That’s wonderful. I heard about this event; it was one of the smoothest experiences we have ever had. We had no problems with staff or guests. We got a lot of guests to come back and stay with us. Were you in charge?”
She grins proudly, “no, I work with the sub-events teams. It’s part of my job to help nonprofits with their events to get donations.”
“Impressive work. Would you care to tell me more?”
Y/N happily indulges Mr. Levington as he tells her about the degree she is working towards. She shares about each event she has worked on. He offers ideas on how to help and ideas for new events. He promises to attend her next event.
“Y/N?” Harry calls her name, interrupting their conversation.
“Harry, I was speaking with Mr. Levington,” Y/N tells Harry, holding onto his forearm and giving it a loving squeeze.  
Mr. Levington looks between Y/N and Harry, a curious look on his face. “Are you his wife?”
“Oh, he’d be so lucky,” Y/N tells Mr. Levington, a loyal partner to Pleasing. She found out a mere seconds ago as Harry whispered it in her ear.
Harry laughs, “Y/N’s my–”
Y/N rolls her eyes. These men don’t need to know about her and Harry, not that she’d mind him showing her off. “Enough about me. Tell me about that TaylorMade Stealth PLus Driver you have there. I hear it has low spin.” She points to the clubs a few feet behind them.
“You golf, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Levington asks, surprised.
Y/N leads the man away, turning to look at Harry, offering him a wink as the man tells her about his clubs.
They’re about to head to the next hole when he sees Y/N still chatting. The man held on to her every word.
“Now I hear the Sims 2 has a better grip as it’s more lightweight. But don’t take my word for it, I haven’t had the chance to swing it, but from what I’ve heard Harry and Mr. Rowland discuss, I’d say you ask him for a chance to swing, but I do know how you all are about your clubs.” She tells him, knowing she is setting up Harry for an interesting conversation.
“Y/N,” Harry calls for her once again. She turns to see him with a bright smile on her face. “We’re ready for the next hole. Y/N loves to chat, Mr. Levington”.
“She’s a dear. She was telling me about your driver. Seems she thinks mine has a problem.”
“Now, now, don’t go twisting my words,” Y/N chastises.
“Only teasing, Ms. Y/N.” Mr. Levington turns his attention back to Harry. “Think you’ll let me take a swing, Mr. Styles?” Mr. Levington asks.
Harry offers him a sincere smile. “We can work something out.”
“A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”
Harry stands with a hand on her waist as they watch him walk away. “What did you do, you little minx?”
“What do you mean?” She feigns innocence.
“That man,” he gestures to Mr. Levington, walking next to Jeff with their caddy. “Always comes to our events and never says a word. Here you have him yapping on and on about clubs you probably don’t care about.”
“You’re right. I don’t,” she confirms.
“Then, beauty? You don’t have to be flattering all these old men.” He tells her honestly.
“Jealous, H?” Y/N teases, stepping closer to him, her hand resting on the back of his neck.
Harry hums at her touch. “Course I am. Prettiest girl here on the green don’t want to share you with anyone.”
She leans on her tiptoes, pressing a quick peck on his lips. “Promise I’m enjoying myself.”
“Will you still ride with me?” He asks her, as he hadn’t helped her onto the golf cart after each hole.
“Am I driving?” She waits expectantly.
He offers her the keys, which she snatches up before he can even think of pulling his hand away. “Now, now. Give me a proper kiss, and we’ll go.”
She doesn't even fight him, simply leans in and kisses him. Harry hums at her sweet cherry taste. He knows she must have stopped the cart girl and asked for a Shirley Temple with extra cherries, her favorite.
“Come on, Harry. I want to see you flex those muscles as you swing that club around.”
She skips towards his golf cart labeled thirteen. He sees her skirt bounce, and he groans. He takes a moment to remind himself to breathe. He could do this for a few more hours. He might lose his mind by the end of the evening, but he would endure it.
Safe to say, by the time they reached the last hole, Y/N had all of these men eating out of her hand. Each person listens as she tells another story.
“She’s a good one,” Mr. Levington tells Harry as Y/N tells the others about the time she went to a museum, and security gave her a private tour because she resembled a famous artist. “Never seen anyone so charming. Surprised she picked someone as sour as you.”
“Hmm…clearly, her magic worked on you. Can’t remember the last time you spoke to anyone besides your clubs,” Harry answers honestly, knowing he is lucky to have Y/N.
Mr. Levington chuckles. “Touche Styles. Keep her around. She's good for business and you, it seems. That facade has dropped.”
“Yeah, she’s one of a kind.”
“H,” Y/N yells, “Come tell them about the penguin. How he’d follow my every move.”
“Seems you’re wanted, Styles.”
They bid each other goodbye, and he makes his way over to Y/N. Harry doesn't think twice before taking her outstretched hand, launching into the story of how both penguin and Y/N had been amused with each other.
By the time they get home, Y/N’s exhausted. She wasted all her energy conversing with everyone and now needs to re-energize. Harry stopped by and got them burgers on their way to his house. They were quick to devour in the parking lot.
“Can I stay here?” Y/N asks as she throws herself on his couch, landing face down.
“Don’t want to go home, baby?” He slips off her shoes, giving her calf a squeeze.
She lifts her head searching for him. “If it’s okay. You got that nice bath I want to soak in, please.”
He walks over to her, planting a kiss on her head. “Course you can, beauty. I’ll go set it up for you.”
The bath is the perfect temperature as Y/N sinks in, sighing as her body relaxes. She apologized to Harry because she knew he was the one who must be exhausted from a long game of golf, but he was quick to assure her that it made him happy to take care of her. There was an abundance of bubbles around the tub, so she called Harry back into the room. She wanted him to keep her company.
Harry sat down at the edge of the tub, a bowl of strawberries in hand that he knew Y/N would be happy to eat. He offered her one, and she took a big bite humming at the sweet flavor filling her mouth.
“Yummy,” she giggles.
Harry thumbs away the bit of juice running down her chin; he brings his thumb up to his mouth and licks it clean, “yummy, indeed.”
Y/N feels her face flush and wants to sink underwater but keeps her gaze on Harry. She’s naked in his tub and wants him to touch her. She just has to let him know.
“Another, baby?”
She shakes her head no.
He frowns but doesn’t fight her; instead places the strawberries on the counter. He settles back down until Y/N gestures for him to come closer. He smirks but does as she asks. He leans in close until they’re nose to nose, and she presses her lips against his. She moans as Harry slips a hand in her hair; he pulls back as Y/N looks up at him, dazed. She follows him, but he doesn’t let her kiss him. Y/N whines for him to come back.
“What do you want, beauty?”
Y/N pouts. She doesn’t want to say it. Isn’t it clear what she wants?
“Harry,” she whines.
“Need you to say it, Y/N. Not a mind reader.”
Y/N sighs because he’s right. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his thigh through his pants. “I want you to touch me,” she breathes out. She lifts her head, meeting his gaze. “I want you to touch me, please.”
Harry runs his hand down her neck, following a water droplet until he reaches the top of her breasts. “Is this okay?” His finger skims along the top, and Y/N wants more. She needs more.
“Yes,” she huffs, eager for his touch.
His hand sinks into the water, caressing her breasts, and she leans into his touch, moaning as he gets to know her body more intimately. He shifts position to kneel next to the tub, his hand pinching her nipples until she hisses from the contact. His lips settled on her neck as he bites down in different spots. It’s all so much, but Y/N is loving every second. His hand dances over her until Y/N has enough and directs him to where she needs him. His fingers glide over her steadily, whispering touch that works her into a frenzy, filling her with need. His mouth drifts down her jaw to the delicate space behind her ear. He swipes his tongue across her skin before blowing cool air, and a shiver wracks her body.
“Harry,” she whispers.
He finds her clit, rubbing his thumb back and forth in circles as he gives her the pleasure she’s been searching for. She loses her train of thought as he curls one finger inside her and rubs her in all the right places, bringing her closer to the edge faster than she thought possible. Her orgasm is fast and blinding. She grips the tub’s edge so hard that her hand aches, but Harry doesn’t stop.
“One more,” he whispers, his mouth tangling with hers in a hot kiss as they battle for control.
She shakes her head, “c-can’t.” She doesn’t think she’s ever orgasmed back to back with a partner in bed. She orgasms just fine, she can admit she’s had shit partners in bed before, but no one has ever treated her with so much care and passion as Harry.
“Oh fuck,” she yells as Harry wipes away the bubbles uncovering her breasts. He moves away from her lips, not caring that there’s water spilling over the edge as he drags his tongue over each pebbled tip promising Y/N next time, he’ll focus more attention on them.
Each touch Harry gives her is magic. She loves how in control he is of her body as he works to provide her with what she needs. His thumb moves quicker over her clit, two fingers moving in and out of her slick, making it easier for him. Y/N’s body gives in to Harry, and she knows she’s close once again. Y/N throws her wet arms around his neck because she needs him close. She feels herself tip over the edge. Breathless and satisfied.
“Gorgeous,” he mutters against her soft neck. “My beauty was gorgeous.” Each word is followed by a kiss.
Y/N feels heavy but relaxed as he holds her close to her breasts against his soft polo.  “H,” she manages to breathe out.
“Alright, baby?”
“Magic,” she giggles, her chest heaving as she leans back into the water, trying to catch her breath.
Harry laughs as he carefully separates from Y/N to reach for a towel from his towel warmer. She notices the towel and perks up, only now realizing how cold the water has run.
“If an orgasm is all you needed to be, my good girl, I would have begged to give you one sooner,” he tells her teasingly. Y/N whimpers at his words, leaning into his touch as he helps her out of the tub, still a gentleman as he averts his gaze. “Let’s get you in some clothes and then to bed.”
“Kisses and cuddles?” She requests quietly.
Harry chuckles. “Course, baby. Anything you want.”
Y/N had never been so comfortable in a relationship.
She had always been a confident, independent person. Yet, when it comes to Harry, she has come to let herself be taken care of because she sees he finds joy in caring for her. Y/N had never had an equal partnership where her partner put her needs next to his. She understood he was running a billion-dollar company, and she was finishing her degree soon. They were at two different points in life, but Harry always treated her events and exam nights with so much importance it sometimes overwhelmed her.
Harry was happy with her, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Date nights were reserved for the weekends and coffee dates during the week, and Harry always made time to pick her up from campus, so she didn’t have to ask for a ride from a friend. He made himself a part of her life effortlessly.
For a long time, she worried about how she fits into his life, but after dinner with Harry’s friends one weekend, she learned how much of himself he had already given her. Harry held her hand during dinner and asked what she liked to order, going as far as to order her second food option in case she didn’t like hers. He kissed her cheek any chance, not wanting to overwhelm her and his friends with PDA but also reminding her that he was thinking of her. The little things made her realize she was falling in love with Harry.
As Y/N met Harry’s friends and heard embarrassing and loving stories about Harry, she knew it was time for Harry to meet her friends properly. Sapra tried to convince her to invite Matias and Isaac, but Y/N wanted to save meeting her brother for another time. Harry suggested brunch, and Y/N couldn’t argue with that logic. If Sapra or Dawn said anything too embarrassing, she’d just get them drunk on mimosas.
“Are you nervous, Y/N?” Harry asks as she keeps her eyes on the restaurant's door, waiting for her friends to walk in.
Honestly, she was nervous because they knew everything, from when Harry rejected her to when she danced with him. She knows why they are a little weary (Sapra more than Dawn), but they haven’t had a chance to see how Harry really is. Y/N had told them how happy Harry made her. That he dedicated time to her and made her feel important and loved. She knew her friends would accept her if she saw how happy she was, but she also wanted them to like Harry.
“Is it our age difference?”
Y/N frowns that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No, is that something you think about?”
Harry sighs, reaching down to grab her hand and bring it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. Her eyes stay on his face trying to figure out what he’s feeling. “It’s crossed my mind,” he shares honestly.
“It’s not a concern for me,” she promises him.
His green eyes focus back on her, and Y/N sees the glimmer of a smile. “I know, Beauty. It’s not something you’ve ever brought up, but I fear if one of your friends brings it up, then it’ll concern you, and I’ll most likely end up losing you.”
Y/N wishes they weren’t having this conversation now, but it’s her fault for being lost in her head when she should have been assuring him that her friends would love him. “Harry, lovie, I’m in this with you. In this relationship, it’s you and me. No one else. Thank you for being honest with me, but my friends do not influence how I feel about you.”
Harry fails at biting back a smile. He lowers his head, closing the gap between them in the booth. “How do you feel?”
Y/N knows she can be cheeky and tease Harry, but she wants to assure him that she sees a future with him and hopes he feels the same. “I’m crazy about you,” she whispers.
He doesn’t respond but connects his lips against Y/N’s, getting lost in each other, not noticing Y/N’s friends being directed by the hostess to their table. Harry pulls back breathless, allowing himself to get lost in Y/N’s eyes. “The feeling is very much mutual, beauty.”
“Hey lovebirds, can you not do whatever before I’ve eaten,” Sapra teases, pointing at how Y/N is fisting Harry’s button-up tightly. Y/N feels her face heat up and pulls away from Harry.
Dawn flashes them a smile, “it’s nice to officially meet you, Harry. This one’s always talking about you.” Dawn gestures to Y/N, who giggles bashfully against his shoulder.
Harry kisses her cheek, whispering how cute he is before turning his attention back to Dawn and Sapra. “Not as much as she talks about you both, I bet. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
As Y/N’s friends are telling Harry story after story, she realizes that she’s falling in love, and by the way, Harry is holding her hand tightly in his lap that he is too.
Harry has never been so happy to have someone make themselves at home in his house. His mother and sister had always told him it was too large for one person, but he told them it wouldn’t always be him. He didn’t know what he wanted in a partner, but after meeting Y/N, he realized he was waiting for her.
It was too soon to say he was in love, but he was basically there. Harry had no intention of letting her go, and by how Y/N enjoyed showering him with kisses every chance she could, he knew she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
Everything was perfect.
She found herself in his study when she needed a quiet place to study. Usually, it meant he gave up his chair and settled on watching her from the couch next to the window. She would have her laptop in front of her, and if he let her, she’d work for hours without a break. He took it upon himself to bring her a snack and drink every hour to ensure she was well nourished. Harry found pleasure in cooking and making snacks because it was one way she allowed him to take care of her.
This evening Y/N was working on her laptop while Harry read a report for the upcoming month. Y/N sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back into the chair. He lifted his head in concern to find her already looking at him, a frown on his face.
“Beauty, what’s wrong?”
Y/N throws her hands up, “you're giving me too much?”
“I didn’t need a new bag.”
She’s talking about her backpack ripping, and Harry thought nothing of replacing it for her.
“Your old one ripped.”
“My shoes were perfectly fine,” she fires back.
“The laces were barely holding together,” he reminds her.  
“I didn’t need new underwear.”
Harry smirks, “now that was for my pleasure.”
Y/N huffs, “Honey, I’m serious. I don't need all these material items.”
Harry sighs and pats his lap for her to come to sit. She does so without a second thought. She gets comfortable straddling him as his hands rest on her hips.  
“I like providing for you,” Harry expressed.
“I can provide for myself, mister.”
He nods because he knows she can. “But it makes me happy.”
“Harry,” she deadpans.
“Gives me a love boner.”
Y/N scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Be serious.”
Harry’s hands cradle her face, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks affectionately. “Baby, you could run me dry, and it gets me going because it means I was able to take care of you.
She sighs. “God, you're so cute,” she mumbles.
Harry grins, knowing he’s won. “Will you be my good girl and let me spoil you?”
Y/N nods slowly. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him. “If you ever give me a diamond, I'm out,” she reminds him.
“Got it, no diamonds…. What about pearls?” He jokes. At least, she thinks he is.
“Lovie,” she exhales.
Harry has decided he’s had enough of the conversation and kisses her. Y/N always tastes so sweet. He gets lost in exploring her mouth against his that he doesn’t realize she has started rocking against him. Since Harry had given Y/N two orgasms in his bath, they’ve been more physical, but Harry isn’t in any rush, and neither is Y/N. They’re taking it slow, learning every part of their bodies before taking that final step in their relationship. He pulls back the dimples on display, he runs his index finger over Y/N’s swollen lips.
“Popcorn and Survivor, beauty?”
“Oh, Styles, you sure do know the way to a woman’s heart, don’t you,” she teases.
Harry pecks her lips. “Only yours, beauty. Only yours.”
Y/N couldn’t believe Harry would do this to her.
Harry sent over a large red box with a bow holding it closed. The carrier bid her goodnight, and she hurried to her kitchen to open the package. Removing the lid, she found a gorgeous emerald green dress. She picked it up, admiring the silk, and quickly pulled her phone out of her sweat pocket to call Harry. He answered on the first ring.
“Hi, beauty,” he greets cheerfully.
“Harry, tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” He feigns.
“You sent me a dress for tonight.”
“Ah,” he giggles. “That I did. Do you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Good. I'll be there at seven to pick you up.”
“You want to go together?” They knew they were both attending, but for some reason, she assumed they’d arrive separately.
“I didn’t get a matching tie for nothing.” He laughs. “See you soon, beauty.”
Y/N hurried to get ready, excited for what the night had in store for her and Harry.
Harry knocked on her door at seven on the dot. She rushed to the door, swinging it open and telling him to come in as she rushed back into her room. He laughed because he had never seen Y/N frazzled, and here she was, rushing, knowing she was running late. Harry put the blooming calla lilies in a vase he knew she kept under her sink.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Harry. My curler was being stupid, and then I couldn’t find my heels.” She huffs as she stands at her entrance, slipping on her heels.
Harry takes a minute to admire the dress on her. It’s an elegant satin spaghetti strap dress with a high slit up her left leg. Her hair is in an elegant updo, with a few strands framing her face. She’s gorgeous, and she’s all his to show off tonight.
“You sure you don’t want to stay home tonight?” He asks, reaching his hands out for her to take.
She shakes her head, knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Absolutely not. It’s a big night.”
And it was.
Y/N’s internship was hosting their gala of the year, where she played a prominent role in helping with the budget and the guest list. He would never keep her away from an event where she was an important guest.
Y/N grabs her clutch that holds her most essential items, such as her lipstick, ID, cash, and keys. She’s telling Harry she’s ready to go when she catches a yellow vase on her table filled with her favorite flowers.
“H,” she sighed. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He kisses her cheek. “Anything to see that pretty smile.”
As she focuses on Harry staring down at her, she realizes she didn’t kiss him hello. Y/N leans in close, pressing her glossed lips against his. Harry hums at the familiar feel. He wants to take it further but knows they need to get going.
“All set?” He whispers.
“Let’s go then, my gorgeous date.”
Arriving at the venue, Harry offered his keys to the valet as Y/N was helped out the door. Harry met her by the first step and offered his arm. She happily accepted. Walking in, Y/N was awed at the displays of gold scattered around the room. The table decorations were pristine, the lights were perfect for photos, and the ballroom was full of people. As soon as they were inside, Y/N was whisked away by her director, Valentina. Y/N gave Harry an apologetic smile but promised to find him later. Harry had always been good at spending time alone, but for once, he wished Y/N could have paraded him around the room as they introduced each other to people they knew. He knew that time would come.
It’s a beautiful and busy evening; at one point, a waiter finds him a single drink on a tray and hands it over to him, saying that a woman in an emerald green dress sent it to him. It was an amaretto sour, his new favorite. Y/N smiled from across the room when she saw him raise it in her direction as thanks.
The event was winding down, the string quartet was playing their final songs, and Harry was ready to call it a night. After an entire evening away from him, Y/N managed to make her way across the room and stood before him.
Y/N perks up as she hears the opening notes to the song the quartet is playing, their song. Moon River. Harry doesn’t tell her he’s turned the song into her ringtone.
She holds her hand for him to take, and he takes it without a second thought until Harry realizes she’s leading him to the dance floor.
“We’re going to be the talk of the town,” he tells her looking at the lonely dance floor.
Y/N shrugs, “it doesn’t matter.”
As opposed to the first time they danced together, holding space between each other, they were much closer this time. Y/N wrapped her hands around his neck, and his hands found their place on the low of her back.
“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that your opinion is the only one I care about,” Y/N promises him.
Harry’s dimples break through and she grins, leaning up to give him a sweet kiss. She settles back in his arms as their song plays, lost in their own world.
“You know,” Y/N lifted her head, resting on his shoulder. “You once told me you didn’t dance, and yet this is the second time I have gotten you to dance, hmmm?”
Harry laughs because she’s right. “I was waiting for the right partner,” he affirms.
“And is that me?”
“Beauty,” he says softly, his emerald eyes locked on hers. “It could only ever be you,” Harry promises.
Y/N smiles in delight. They might not have had the easiest journey to getting to this moment, but Y/N knew she wouldn’t change anything for the world.
Dancing with Y/N on an empty dance floor to a song he knew had now become theirs, he knew meeting Y/N would be the thing to ever happen to him in life, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them together.
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thank you so much for reading! i love you endlessly, amores 💜
please come tell me what you loved or your favorite part on anything at all. always happy to receive a message. 
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missmielyhoran · 4 months
Breakup sex
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Breakup sex but not what you think...
[Warning- Car smut, fingering, choking, exhibitionism?, p in v, dirty talking (slut, whore), unprotected sex (wear condom kids!), teasing, slight bit jealousy, breeding kink, Olivia Wilde]
A/N- Since Harry is out there buying Ferrari which is like hot asf here is smut😙. I don't know if the relationship was pr or not (it was) but in this it was.
Harry has never been more ecstatic about break up, he was probably jumping on his feet. He was free from this exhausting PR.
Since start Harry didn't want to get into this mess but Jeff is known to be persuasive. Jeff made Harry see how much he could benefit from this blinding him from the demirts. He agreed on it and boy oh boy was it a ride.
Like any other PR he wanted to keep it professional. Keep his personal life out of it but she was so fucking clingy, going to hang out with his sister and mother at shows. Although yeah it made the "relationship" look real but it pissed him off. He liked playing with her kids though cause well they were kids and Harry loves kids if it wasn't obvious enough.
That was in past now he was a free man. No parading around with her hands in his showing off a fake relationship.
He didn't know what to do to celebrate so, he went to buy a car, Ferrari to be exact. He has a wide vast collection of cars, since One Direction days he was fond of cars. So, when 1D grew and they started earning good money he brought himself his first car. Then the collection grew and grew along with him.
He was walking around looking at cars with the store owner and manager on their toes telling him about the various features of models when the red Ferrari 812 superfast caught his eye.
So, he bought it.
Now he was on his way to yours.
Harry met you when he was in "relationship" with Olivia. You were Sarah's friend coming at the first few shows of the tour and then the LA ones to support her. When he first saw you he couldn't help but garner a little crush on you but couldn't make a move since he had a made-up front to keep up.
For few months he forgot about you the but then you came to see them on UK shows and his crush was back again stronger this time cause you stayed as Sarah's kid's temporary nanny.
Both of you started to become really good friends and Harry's crush grew more. He got to know you more like how you liked a little extra honey in your tea, you hated spicy food and had a sweet tooth, how you were studying to be a pediatrician and loved to play with Jake (Sarah's baby).
He had texted you when he got out of the store telling you to wear something cute. He tried to ask you out many times after he told you that his relationship was not real. It was after you two slept together for first time. You were both very drunk but Harry tried to grasp on every touch and curve of yours thinking he might not get a chance again.
You woke up panicking thinking you have slept with a take man and have ruined a relationship and how your mom was probably cursing you from heaven so, he had no choice but to tell you the truth to make you stay.
You slept together multiple times after that but you never agreed to go on a date with him.
But today he was a man on mission.
You were sitting on your couch facing the door shaking your leg anxiously. You have seen the articles about the breakup this morning. You squealed happily so loud it scared your cat off the bed and then you got his text an hour ago telling you to be ready and it became the best day of your life before it even ended.
He told you to wear something cute. You were wearing a pale yellow skirt you have just brought with a heart detailing in front and a denim corset strapless top with heart shape neckline with a black leather jacket over it reaching the end of your skirt, with some chunky knee high boots.
Was it a date? were you dressed too busy? if it was a date you probably weren't dressed for anything fancy and if he had any intention to take you to hiking you just have to suck it up and break your ankles.
A knock gets you out of your racing thoughts. Your hands smooth down your outfit, taking a deep breath you open door and see Harry standing there with his signature smile.
All breath gets knocked out of him when he sees you, shamelessly checking you out from head to toe. You were gorgeous he always knew that but, "Fucking hell babe" he groans pushing you back inside and closing the door behing him so, no one can see them.
His hand immediately finds spot on your waist and his lips on yours. Your fingers get tangled in the hair on the back of his head. You thought of how many times you had to share these lips woth someone else and now they were all yours, the thought made you smile against his lips.
"What?" He asked breaking the kiss but not going far. You shake your head and look down between you two.
"Come on tell me" he pushed further, you looked up at him your chin resting on his collarbone.
"It's just- Only I get to kiss you now" You said with a shy smile. He laughes at how cute you are, his hand drawing circles on your back. He kisses your forehead, nose all over your face making you laugh.
"My jealous baby" He cooed.
"Come on lets go" You said pulling away from him knowing if you stayed like this long you will never leave house.
You locked the door behind you as he took your hand in his threading his fingers into yours tightly. You squealed excitedly inside.
"Is that a new car?" You pointed out as you came closer to the car parked.
"Yup just brought it this morning" He said opening the passenger side of the door for you then jogging towards his side and sliding in.
"When you said you were going shopping I thought you meant groceries not a Ferrari!" you exclaimed but also let out a chuckle. He just shrugs and starts driving.
His one hand stays on the wheel while the other on your thigh rubbing back and forth.
"Did I tell you, you look absolutely gorgeous?" He asked looking at you sideways. Your face heats up at the compliment as you let out a small 'no' making him smirk.
"Mhm. You looking soo beautiful baby, irresistible." Harry turns to look at you fully when there is a red light.
"You just want to get into my pants" you shook you head laughing. He smirks joining you in laughter. He leans down pecking your lips three times.
"I don't know about pants my love but this skirt is making me feral" He whispers against your lips. His hand on your thigh sliding up towards your heat.
"Harry" You breathe out looking at him through lashes and seeing his emerald eyes darken. Your whole body shivers with goosebumps his faint touch making you lose all control over yourself.
"You want me to make you feel good baby?" He asks still looking at you through the same gaze. Your eyes flick towards the traffic lights now turned yellow.
"There are people around, you need to dri-"
"It's a simple yes no question Y/N" He says with his authoritative voice. You were sure your panties were drenched with arousal. You simply got wet when Harry was around you but like this god you could die.
"Y-Yes" You mumble out making him smile again with dimples.
"Good girl" He pecks your cheeks and goes back to normal. His hand slid back up where it was before leaving you flustered.
What the fuck.
Harry was having fun seeing you squirm in your seat. Your eyes flicking all over him like a hungry animal then staying on his hands. He knew you loved his hands, the veins and rings turned you on.
He kept his face forward while yours was facing the window. His hands started sliding up already feeling the wamth of your pussy.
"Har" You sighed as his middle finger slide up and down your covered folds. You were unbelievably wet making him almost groan out but he kept his face straight.
"Yes darling" He smiled innocently like he didn't knew what he was doing. He tried not to keep his eyes on you longer as to not distract himself and get into trouble.
"Please" you whined and fuck him. He felt his dick twitch at your tiny whiny voice.
"What you want darling? tell me?" He asked trying to focus on both you and the road.
"Your fingers please" You whined again, your face scrunched up in pleasure and distaste. You were soo turned on it started to hurt, you clit swollen and throbbing.
"Poor baby" He pouted. With two of his fingers he slid your panties aside. His thick fingers moving up and down collecting your arousal. "Fuck baby, all this for me?" He groaned.
"Yes fuck yes" You sighed falling back on seat your hand gripping his and other holding the dashboard.
His fingers slide up towards your clit and you let out a loud moan. The frustration leaving your body as he starts running tight but slow circles on it.
"You're so pathetic Y/N I haven't even done anything yet and you look like you're about to cum" He chuckles shaking his head. His cock was straining against his pants begging for release but he needed to please you first.
"Want me to fuck you with my fingers baby? Want to come all over my fingers and drench it?" He asked leaning in close and nipping on your jaw.
He had parked seeing an empty parking lot. The windows were tinted so, unless someone comes really close no one can see them.
He pushes off your jacket seeing your bare shoulders and neck, your tits almost spilling out of your tight top.
He brings his middle and index finger near your entrance and replaces his thumb on your clit. In one motion he pushes them inside you making you choke out a loud moan. Your body topples over gripping his hand tight enough to leave the mark of nails on them.
He's pushing his fingers in and out at a relentless pace. Your hips move up to grind against his hands to chase your high. After sometime he starts pushing his fingers up in a come here motion hitting the spot inside you. All while his lips move along your neck and chest leaving trail of wet kisses.
"Fuck fuck Harry I'm-" You get cut off by a moan. "I know baby" He coos, "Feels good doesn't it?" He says moving his fingers faster you didn't thought he could and all you could do was nod.
You came with a loud moan not caring if there was someone in the lot hearing you two no, it only made your high last longer.
"Fuck my whole hand is wet baby" he says pulling his fingers out. His fingers and rings glistening in your arousal, he takes his time sucking off every single one with his darkened eyes on your tired ones.
"You okay?" He asks pushing hair stick to your forehead out of your face. Instead of answering you take off your seatbealt and move to the drivers seat, in his lap. Your lips on his moving in frantic motion.
His hands slide down to your ass pulling you closer to him, his clothed dick feeling hard against your clothed pussy. You started dry humping on his lap, desperate like a bitch in heat making him groan.
"Fuck baby need you" He breaks the kiss to take a breathe. You keep your hips moving as his lips trail down to your neck making sure to leave his mark.
"Me too" You consent making him hum against your chest. He swats your behind asking you to move, you stand up uncomfortably on your knees as he quickly pushes down his pants and boxers in one go. His cock now laying heavy against his black shirt, red oozing with precum.
You sit back down on his lap grinding against his thigh to get some friction while yiu jerk him off, you give his dick giving it a firm squeeze and slide your thumb on the slit collecting the wetness making Harry moan loudly.
Your panties were uncomfortably sticking to your pussy but you didn't care. Not when he was in front of you red face, parted swollen lips with head thrown back letting out pretty noises.
It was like the switch went off inside his brain when your hand touched his neck. He swatted your hand off his cock and pulled you closer again. "Want this?" He asks again and once you confirm he brings his lips to yours.
His hands slide back under your skirt getting hold of your panties and tearing them in one go. You gasp at the burn but he didn't let you break the kiss. He took the ruined panties and put them in the cup holder.
He finally pulled apart and lined his dick to your entrance pushing it in one go. He gave you some time to adjust his finger moving in soft circle on your clit.
You started swaying your hips back and forth once the pain diminished fucking yourself on him. He groaned and leaned back ajusting his seat all the way back.
"Go on darling take whatever you want. Use me" He said. He brought his hand to your top pulling it down making your tits spill out of them. Harry laid back his hands folded behind his head as you bounced on his dick with your tits moving up and down. He was surprised he didn't already come at the sight.
He bought his hand up to your neck squeezing it enough to make you feel light headed. You threw you head back in ecstasy feeling the euphoria fill your body. Harry bought his hand up from your neck to your jaw holding it tightly, bringing your eyes back at him.
He pushed his thumb against your lips which you invited in sucking on it swirling your tongue while keeping your eyes on him.
"Fuck look at you riding my cock while sucking on my fingers like a filthy whore" He degraded his voice getting deeper and restrained. His words only made you more wet. "Who's slut sre you baby?" He asked.
"Yours" You whined your thighs starting to cramp up from all the movement.
"Aww, my pretty pillow princess getting tired? Want to be a slut but can't work for it?" He pouted taunting. Harry sat up separating his legs wider as he could in the cramped space of car. His hand holding your waist tightly stopping any movement.
"Now I'm going to fuck you like the slut you are and you're going to take it and scream so loud the whole parking should know my name" he whispered in your ears.
You didn't have anytime to comprehend what he said cause he was thrusting up into you at hauntingly pace. Your head fell down to his shoulder muffling the noises leaving you. Harry pulled you back with the hold on your hair making you cry out.
"Look at me when I'm fucking you" His deeper authoritative voice made you clench around him. "Fuck" He cursed out.
Harry bought his lips down to your chest sucking on your nipple hard almost breaking the skin while his fingers rolled the other one. You were a moaning, panting mess, there were tears streaming down your cheeks and you were sure your makeup was all ruined.
But you didn't care.
Harry gave both your breasts equal attention while you slide you hand down to touch your clit. You needed your release asap you couldn't hold it anymore. Seeing you touch yourself while his cock fucking in you had his eyes rolled back.
He was close, his thighs quivering and his balls felt tight ready for release. "Fuck baby I'm about to come" he groaned out, panting against your neck.
"Me too- oh god" you moaned loudly. You were clenching around him so tight you almost pushed him out.
"Where?" he asked. Usually he would pull out coming on your tits, mouth or ass wherever you wanted.
"In me please" You whined out. Harry's eyes bulging out, his pace faltering at the thought of his cum dripping out of you. He knew you were on pill but he never did that not knowing if you would be comfortable or not.
"Are you sure baby?" He asked again to confirm, "Yes I'm on pill but can't care less if you knocked me up" You moaned, you were on the brink of your fall into euphoria. Harry was sure you were angel and the thought him knocking you up was what made him lose it.
"Fuck cum them" He screamed. His order was all you needed, your whole body tingled as your vision went white. You felt Harry shoot his warm load inside you filling you up. Both of you were moaning, whimpering mess coming down from your high.
The car was hot and sticky from all the heat, the window were fogged up and it smelled like sex. You felt harry go soft inside you, his head between your tits while yours in his mess of curls.
"That was fucking incredible" He was the first one to speak. You laughed along with him agreeing.
Harry pulled out of you hissing from slight pain you felt. He shot you an apologetic look and took out some napkins from the dashboard and cleaned you up as much as he could.
He pulled his pants up and you pulled your top up much to Harry's dismay. His childish pout when you started buttoning up your top made you chuckle.
Both of you stayed silently there holding each other in the empty parking lot basking in each other's presence.
"So you will finally go on date with me?" He asks you sheepishly.
"Yes" You laughed fondly.
I'm not trying to make anyone look bad...do I not like her? yes. Do I also not care? yes. I didn't know who she was before this and I'm going to keep it that way<3
Let me know what you think about this or talk to me here♡
Please Like, Comment and Reblog<33
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harrysonlylover · 1 month
Hot Wheels (Mechanic H Part 3)
Summary: You find yourself in an unwanted situation, and you learn new things about Harry.
Warnings: Mentions of physical violence (not between Harry and yn), tons of fluff, possessiveness.
WC: 7.2k
A/n: hi!! Hope you like this part, its plot is divided into two, the other is part 4. I recommend you reread part 2 to refresh. Enjoy xx.
Mechanic H Masterlist
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Two weeks ago your greatest concern was finding a book to read, mindlessly skimming the pages of ‘Little Women’ , then a week later you picked on your nails feeling antsy on what hydrangea pot to get as an apology for a green-eyed man that had no business to barge into your daydreams often.
The memory of these two weeks flashes before you as the same familiar forest eyes slice daggers in your direction, Harry’s face was almost glued to yours, your foreheads touching as his jaw twitched. You didn’t know whether you should be afraid of him or worried over him.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, what are you doing here?” His voice was low and deep, and suddenly he was not the same Harry who admired a necklace with you.
“Listen Harry I-“
“Oh Come on Styles, let us hear what she has to say too, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the brunette man from earlier spoke and you observed the change in Harry’s expressions whenever the guy addressed him.
“Fuck off Markson, this doesn’t concern you.” Harry wrapped an arm around your waist so tight prompting you to wince at the soon to form bruise.
The crowd got larger and larger , suffocating you and Harry in the center while men and women holding beer cups eyed you up and down and whispered between each other spiking your anxiety even more.
You were starting to realize how bad things had gotten, was it really necessary for you to speak to him?
The familiar sounds of changing tires and wrenches clicking together made you feel at ease; you got accustomed to Harry doing this type of work, so no matter who else is doing it , Harry is the first person to come to your mind.
You swallowed hard feeling your body heat up as the blood pumped fast through your heart, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a tight grip, you did too. Your hand squeezed his bicep since (besides being an asshole today) he tends to be respectful and would not throw you to the wolves by yourself.
But did you even have a choice? He was the only person you knew here.
“I don’t think so , let us have a look at her, maybe she’ll like it here.” The man grinned, clasping his hands behind his back , earning a laugh from his friends around him.
“Remove that thought out of your head now, unless you want a broken arm again. How’s it healing by the way? Was it displaced or comminuted?” Harry replied with a stern tone, hinting to sarcasm at the end of his sentence making people around you murmur as the guy’s expression darkened.
“We’ll see who’ll be laughing after I win the race and get the chick.” The man deadpanned and you wondered if Harry’s jaw was going to crack from how tensed he was.
“Are these like your resolutions for the night? Kinda looks like you rehearsed that line.” The crowd followed with laughter and a chant of ‘Styles’.
The man raised his middle finger to Harry and turned on his heels with his friends following him like some minions. The gathering of people around you slowly dissolved as Harry looked around frantically to see if anyone is watching.
When he felt that you’re all clear he relaxed his grip on you but kept it around your skin for precaution. He noticed how you unsettled you were, your fingers trembling from fear. He cupped your cheek with one hand raising your chin up to his face level.
“We’ll deal with this later, but it doesn’t mean I’m letting it go. Right now there’s something I need to take care of” His voice was as delicate as a bluebird since he tried to soothe you as much as he could.
“Are you a car racer Harry? Is this illegal? What does that man want from me? I can get him money if-“ you ranted anxiously as tears welled in your eyes.
“Shhhhh, nothing will happen to you, I won’t allow it.” His voice got softer if that was even possible as you swallowed the lump in your throat.
You can feel everyone’s gaze on you as if you were an alien or a weird outsider, and maybe you were. Dressed up in a pink cardigan and denims while being surrounded with people wearing shorts and cargo pants leaning against walls or cars showing off their tattoos, some making out or grinding against each other while the remaining lot are fixing cars that appear to be ready for racing.
“Harry listen can we go home now I swear I won’t tell anyone about this.” You begged feeling cold despite the thick cardigan you have on.
“Darling do I look like a scary mafia man to you?” He attempted to joke except that the word ‘mafia’ made you shiver even more.
He laced his fingers with yours leading you to one of the racing cars men were working on, and conversed with them about topics that are still unfamiliar to you despite spending a good amount of time watching him fix cars.
And then it hit you again. A small crowd pointing at you and laughing , the smell of fuel and sound of metal, the cold chilly air carrying the scent of trouble. Your chest tightened up and you could barely control your shaking to tug Harry’s jacket whispering his name silently.
“Hey, hey it’s okay” You’re not sure if you stood shivering and panting for an hour or if he held you quickly but now, he slowly guided you into deep breaths, urging you to look at him and him only.
Maybe it was your brain tricking you or you hallucinated for a hot minute from how shaken you were, but you could swear the hydrangeas flashed before you when you concentrated on his green eyes.
“That’s a good girl, now more breaths and close your eyes.” You did as ordered allowing the cold air to hit your nostrils and fill your lungs before letting it out slowly.
“A bit better?” he questioned and you nodded timidly noticing a slight wince on his face.
“Hey Styles, so who-“ a random man came up from behind you.
“Leave from my fucking face right now.” Harry shifted his attitude immediately, his voice dropping poison as he glared angrily at the man behind you that you heard scurry away.
One of the mechanics whispered something in his ear and he nodded , moving closer to the car and opening its door. “Get inside”
“What?” you deadpanned feeling like it’s a prank of some sort.
“Inside the car. Now.” His tone was getting serious as he had a hand laid on the door with the other on his hip.
“No, I said I wanted to leave and-“
“We can’t leave , you chose to come here. I have a race right now and I don’t trust you with anyone around here, you will not stand near anyone that is not me. Which means you’re attached to my hip until I drive you home.” He motioned for you to enter with his eyes and you had no choice but to swallow hard and get in.
“H-harry there’s only one seat.” You mumbled staring at the interior of the car designed for racing , having the driver’s seat with nothing else.
He hummed cheekily crossing his arms against his chest. “Rumor has it that my lap is a nice seat, I mean that’s what goes around.”
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After convincing yourself that you won’t die or get run over by some creepy racer man (which isn’t even logical), you surrendered to the comforting mechanism of deep breaths and observed everyone to get a tiny hint of what is happening since Harry refuses to tell you
He is stationed outside the car, as a matter of fact he didn’t budge an inch. One of the guys who seem friendly or not ‘murderous’ tipped you a light smile but made sure to give his entire attention to Harry, looking very into him which you wouldn’t be shocked about as all men and women here are fawning over Harry, including you.
He opened the car door ushering you to step outside for a minute before propping himself in the driver’s seat and patting on his lap for you to sit on making you gulp hard.
“Zayn’s got everything handled, cmon it’s show time”. His grin was wide and you can’t believe that he is enjoying whatever this is.
You reluctantly inserted your left foot inside, ducking your head and laying half your weight on the remaining empty space of the seat, which was barely enough for your knee, as Harry’s bulkiness is taking up the space.
He adjusted the seat backwards and helped you to get seated by holding your forearms and allowing your legs to be dangling comfortably on both sides of his outer thighs, gently urging you to let your center sit above his crotch. You found yourselves in a lotus position, which was too awkward for two individuals in a feud.
He guided your head to his left shoulder, near his neck where your nose unintentionally grazed the skin, taking in his pine shower gel and aftershave odor.
“Can’t have your face cloud my vision now , can I?” You can feel his deep voice rumbling from his chest now that you are laying against him.
Harry appeared to be unbothered by this whole ordeal, maybe even accustomed to having people in his lap which you didn’t really want to think about. But did he ever see them on a daily basis and act nice, then tuck their head in his neck?
Your heart was going faster than any racing car nearby, and regulating your breath in this position was unmanageable, he made you as nervous as a schoolgirl on her first day, he can even feel all the pumping with how quiet the car is, veiling any outer unwanted noise.
“Harry can you move? Am I crushing you?” you muttered under your breath hoping he heard you as you’re too anxious to say anything else.
“Shhhhhhh.” He snaked a hand around your waist , flaunting a calm demeanor and tapping his feet along to a beat he’s humming.
You decided to remain quiet and not ponder any further, if not for the situation you’re in, you’d sleep soundly immediately. Harry signaled something that you cannot see to the guy named Zayn. Your head was facing the window and you spotted a man in the center holding a flag.
They really are about to race.
You wish you had confidence like Harry, you’re not the one racing yet you’re worrying enough on his behalf. He placed a CD inside the CD player. Why does he need to play music for everything? There could be an apocalypse and this man will whip out some Vinyl or radio.
“Gonna hold on tight to me yeah?” He turned on the ignition allowing the engine to warm up and drove to the start line.
“Hmm I guess, what if you can’t drive because of me? I’m just really concerned-“
“Oh darling, I’m not the one you should be worried about.” You can almost see his smug vividly, but your thoughts were interrupted thanks to Gangsta’s Paradise by Coolio playing. The man in the center waved a flag and Harry’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he sped off in a race with the same guy who was bothering you earlier.
The song was still playing and you can hear Harry’s heartbeats in sync with the speed of the car, your eyes were shut and you held on to Harry like a Koala, too scared to let go or peek.
The engine roared while his foot never left the gas pedal, he effortlessly handled the dangerous turns with a smooth drift with only one hand, as the other refused to leave your waist.
He used the palm of his hand to shift the wheel, and you can feel yourself loosen up as Adrenaline kicked in slowly , so you allowed yourself to take a look. The man Harry is competing seems to be infuriated as you are ahead of him.
Starboy by The Weeknd was up next in the queue, and you wish you didn’t take a glance, the other guy has caught up with you and is trying to bump into the car, you were surrounded with high fence walls, it wouldn’t end well for both of you if he gets to do it.
“Harry look he wants to-“
He hummed rubbing soft patterns against your skin asking of you to not worry about it, any sane person would shout and freak out even more but when his fingers touched your bare skin you didn’t question him any further.
Harry abruptly spun the car catching both you and the man off guard, as the latter slowed down. Harry continued driving but in backward motion which was more dangerous and way harder. He was only using the front mirror for directions and he still nailed every drift and turn perfectly.
The other car was trying to cross over, but Harry turned into a professional menace. He mimicked the man’s moves, blocking his way whenever he attempted to pass, shifting to the left with him and to the right when he dares.
You could not take in Harry’s focus at the moment, neither how talented he is, as if he invented car racing. His body was relaxed in the seat and legs stretched to reach the gas and brake pedals, your body was crushing him and he welcomed it with an embrace soothing you into a calm state, his hand never once separating from you despite your full ability to hold on to him.
You wish you could properly see his biceps flexing as his other hand gripped the steering wheel absently without second questioning like he’s been doing it since the moment he began walking. However you could feel his stomach clenching and contracting beneath you, his light panting almost not observable but how can you not, when the shape of his parted cherry lips is engraved deep in your mind.
He was able to drive in an opposite motion and do tricks on the other man who was about to hit a fence wall because of Harry despite driving in the right direction, and you don’t need to look to know that Harry is shooting daggers to him.
Harry was even bobbing his head to Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood and you figured that this can’t be his first time dealing with such races. No matter how he did it he always got to remind you of his stamina and you gulped at the thought of its intensity in other activities.
Out of all the tension in the car, Harry’s playfulness and your fear, the only thing that was left unaddressed is the thick bulge in his pants that began to form as you unintentionally grinded over his clothed crotch every time the car shifted.
Harry could not care less if four cars were onto him from ever side, he can always manage it. Yet can he handle the painful hard on you gave him? Or the way your cunt began to warm up and clench around him? He guessed that you have no idea about the last one so he stayed silent and spared you some flushed cheeks and instead lowered his nose, allowing it to graze your hair breathing in your strawberry shampoo.
As you began the third and final lap, it was evident that Harry is the winner, you could go and on and talk about his ability to drive backward when you struggle to park properly (back when you had a car).
“ I love seeing petty boys try and challenge me, but I love it even more when I see the sore look on their face when they lose daddy’s money.” He chuckled as he laid his chin on the top of your head, his eyes quickly drifting to the mirror to manage up till now the most dangerous drift, you felt yourself about to stumble but got balanced quickly thanks to his tight grip and ability to lift your weight up .
Superman by Eminem faded slowly as the chanting of ‘Styles’ became closer and closer before the flag was waved marking the end of the race and announcing Harry a winner. His arrogance would not allow him to stop there, he reached the center and flaunted circular spins in the car surrounding it with fume, hearing the crowd go crazy over him, you could’ve sworn the applause made his clothed cock twitch beneath you.
Harry brought his hand to lift your face up gently, finally getting a proper look at your face. He smiled delicately as if he didn’t just recreate Fast & Furious.
“Hi there, smooth ride, eh? Best driver in the Milky way.”
“Why the Milky way?”. You arched an eyebrow expecting a joke.
“I doubt it’s true but imagine an alien with a spaceship better than my car, they probably have the tools.” You looked into each other’s eyes before cracking up into a laughter fit.
He’s glad he got you to laugh, he knows he shouldn’t have made you go through that, but he had no choice.
Your moment of joy was interrupted by the other car arriving and stopping abruptly in haste, the man stepped out of the car looking furious , but to be fair he was more on the verge of tears.
“Cmon Styles face me” he shouted making everyone murmur and look around between him and Harry in the car.
Harry rolled his eyes and moved the strand of hair from his forehead before puckering his lips. “Listen, I’ll be back this won’t take long yeah?”
He raised the volume of the song ,gently stepped out and locked you inside the car. You couldn’t hear anything that was said between them even when you turned off the CD player, the crowd hid him from view and their voices overpowered Harry’s.
He knew it would be better for you to not witness anything, you didn’t have to. The snarky kid Markson stood in front of him with a weak attempt at appearing powerful when Harry knows he’s just another rich kid with a tiny dick.
“Ah there he is, go on and tell them how you tried to kill me.” He sneered sporting a fake expression on his face.
Harry stood with his arms crossed trying to hold his laughter, Markson really is a dumb boy , he thought.
“Seriously a kid can gaslight me into giving him candy better than you.” Even Markson’s little minions laughed before he shot them a “glare” prompting them to stop.
“You’re just a liar, who’d do anything for money.”
“One that I earn with my hard work. Instead of kissing daddy’s ass for it.” Markson looked like he was about to start a physical fight yet he knows he isn’t of Harry’s fitness level but of course, he wouldn’t say it.
“Hey let’s go ask the hot chick what happened, we can get her a drink and have some fun.” Harry felt all the rational thoughts leave his brain and hot fume light up his body at the boy’s words.
Markson began strolling in the car’s direction but Harry stopped him with his arm as barrier, and threw him on the ground like a toy. He immediately bent down to his level, grabbing him by his collar taking in his frightened face.
“Listen here boy, she’s mine which means if I see you breathing the same air around her, you’ll wish for functional lungs, as a matter of fact if I see you here again your daddy will have to pay for your new legs.” Harry gritted his teeth as he threatened the boy who’s gulping hard.
Harry’s nostrils were flaring and he doesn’t even know why he got so worked up. He punched him in the face with the hand adorned with rings displacing his nasal bone.
“Consider it a kind warning.” He left him bleeding on the ground and kept walking towards the car. The looks he received were a mix of fear and respect.
“Yo Hot Wheels, your 10k?” Manny who dealt with the money earned shouted at him.
“This isn’t the time.” This was all Harry had to say before everyone scurried away, backing from the car where you have been waiting trying to know what’s happening.
He unlocked the doors and held his hand out for you before throwing his keys to Zayn and attaching his arm to your waist for the third time this night.
“What happened out there?” You questioned him as nothing yet was making sense.
“Nothing that you need to know, let’s go.” He deadpanned motioning in the direction of Layla parked nicely outside.
A familiar voice shouted your names making you halt and turn around. “Hey wait up!” Niall screamed as he ran to catch up with you.
“Harry listen I-“
“I figured you’re the one who drove her here. I’m not sure you’d want to speak; you have 5 seconds to leave. I’d hate to show you what happens if you don’t.” His voice was deep and threatening, and Niall looked shameful.
“I can explain just let-“
Despite Niall driving you to this place, you can’t be too mad at him, you didn’t even wait up for him to escort you and he might have thought you know about these races.
“Harry it’s my fault too.” You muttered next to him , wincing at the sight of Niall.
“Never said it isn’t, we’ll talk later.” His gaze didn’t avert from Niall once and you huffed knowing how stubborn he is. Niall was gone before Harry reached the number four, you both went inside Layla and you felt as if you were back to zero with him.
“I’m taking you to mine’s no questions asked, we need to talk and it’s better for you if you stick with me tonight.” He did that move again with his palm on the steering wheel and you observed him as he drove without another word.
Harry isn’t exactly sure why he did that to Markson, he doesn’t even understand the necessity behind taking you home with him. He answers the questions in his mind with unreasonable answers and he wonders if he’s trying to convince himself or you, as if you could read his thoughts.
What pisses him off more is that he unconsciously wants to win your side despite you being more wrong than him, and for that to happen, he’s going to need help from a companion at home.
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During the car ride you let your head rest against the window feeling too lost in Stray by Yellow House playing, Harry’s driving was the absolute opposite of the race, his demeanor changed into a relaxed state, however the silence was uncomfortable.
You noticed how you got a bit further away from town, but it’s not like you minded, your life was dependent on him an hour ago. Would it really matter if you question your whereabouts.
The headlights were on to stir away the darkness of the night, you can smell the leather seats and Harry’s cologne reeking off his skin where your nose was attached for a good twenty minutes.
The thick rosy cardigan you have on felt like a warm hug against your skin but you took it off , allowing the night breeze to touch all over your body, impale your senses as it carried the scent of the forest you’re passing by. The smell of the soil and the roots dug deep inside, and the baby flowers waiting for Spring’s permission to blossom and arrive.
A deep breath after the other was taken as you were mesmerized, the road was empty so you laid your head on the trim of the window, closed your eyes and felt everything consume you all at once.
It wasn’t until Harry changed the song to ‘Lovers rock’ by TV girl that you snapped back to reality and drifted your gaze to find him staring at you without once looking out to the road.
For a minute you didn’t want to worry whether you crash into a car or a tree, you held the eye contact and realized that he’s the first person whose presence was almost invisible but tender, you acted as if you were alone around him, no anxiety, no thoughts. Just a simple melody that he’s playing and the breeze in your nostrils.
“What’s wrong?” You questioned him on his staring.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He replied in the softest voice you’ve ever heard, flexing his face muscles in a bizarre way.
You knew that move well, you’d done it a million times to help the soreness in your face when you refused to let out a smile.
Soon enough the trees bid you a goodbye and instead welcomed a huge field filled with green beauties and in its center sat a house with a dim light. Harry drove on a path that seems to have gone under maintenance specially to reach the little house, the more you approached it the more you got to peer at it.
Its walls painted with sunflower yellow, windows’ frame a blue that reflects the sky. A beige wooden chair is placed under the window (perfect for an afternoon read!). A row of hydrangea pots was organized to create a perfect display, it was so different from the one in the garage.
They ranged from white, blue and pink to violet and green. Suddenly your view was veiled by Harry who stood in front of you making you aware of the engine stopping and your hands cupping your cheeks as you stared in awe at the house.
He opened the car of the door for you , helping you to balance yourself since his car’s level is really low, he grabbed your cardigan advising you to put it on mumbling something about the flu.
You were still gasping and letting out ‘Oooh’s at the pretty hydrangeas. You didn’t even know they existed in green. The door was painted a blue lighter than the window frames, one that’s similar to the sea.
Should you tell him that his house is the Sun, Sky and Sea?
“You can freshen up in the bathroom on the left, I’ll make something for us to eat.” He said as he let you inside his surprisingly cozy home.
You scurried to the bathroom before you did your inspection, you might have spotted a Vinyl player that you urgently need to test (for entertainment purposes). You can hear Harry’s movements as he walked around, opened the refrigerator and chopped up something.
You washed your face with warm water to freshen up and went outside to see Harry cooking onions in a pan with teary eyes, he must’ve taken his jacket off as he stood in a white tanktop and leather jeans, his hair was clipped back in a sprout to avoid getting it in his face and the pan.
The sizzling of the onions and garlic with olive oil alarmed your stomach, recalling how you were upset today and skipped lunch.
“So I think I have some questions, and I-“ You stopped talking midsentence as you gasped upon seeing white fluffy ears rubbing against your feet.
“And that would be Snowy.” Harry dried his hands with a towel and walked over to you, cradling the bunny in his hands like a mother holding her newborn baby.
The bunny was mid-sized, his eyes so black you can see your reflection in them, his fur as white as snow and his ears were fluttering. He hid his face in Harry’s arms like a shy babe.
You were practically melting at the little creature, pouting and asking Harry if you can hold him. In between moments, it finally clicked that Harry Styles the grumpy mechanic (and racer) has a bunny pet.
A model replica of the plushie you gave him, that sits inside Meena. It wasn’t a bad choice after all.
“Mhmm looks like he loves you.” He gently shifted him into your arms feeling his soft fur, as you and Harry’s fingers touched sparking electricity in you.
You tried not to think much about him towering you and standing arm to arm next to you, his presence was suffocating and you could barely focus on the cute bunny you’re holding, but he spared you all that and went back to the yummy sauce he’s preparing.
“I didn’t expect you to have a bunny! He’s so warm and fluffy.” You gently caressed his head as you sat down on Harry’s emerald green sofa, forgetting all about the questions you wanted to ask, or offering him help as he cooks.
He did seem capable of handling everything, you barely spent five minutes in the bathroom and he was quick to boil the pasta, chop onions with garlic and sauté them, lay all the ingredients in front of him. Though sadly, you caught only a quick snippet of him squeezing a lemon using his bare hand.
“Hmm, I suppose there are lots of things that you didn’t expect of me.” He added tomato sauce and pepper as you observed him intently while he worked under the yellow kitchen light.
“After tonight ? Absolutely.” Snowy shifted slowly in your arms joining his feet and hands together in an attempt to catch your attention.
Harry’s house was another thing that you didn’t see possible. His kitchen aesthetically joined with a spacious living room containing the most bizarre collections. A mosaic chandelier, vintage pale yellow sofa, the vinyl record player (which is not a fragment of your imagination), with a stand holding a huge amount of vinyl, posters on the walls for Elton John, Italian landscapes, and movie scenes.
The scenery itself was too pretty to describe, it was like stepping into a vintage shop and travelling back in time to every year you could possibly imagine, yet still having a sense of the present. His house is the teddy bears you get on Valentines, fresh lemonade on a hot summer day, candies that taste like childhood and the first sunshine after a thunderstorm.
Bunny’s ears kept fluttering as your hand caressed his white fur, he seemed to be enjoying it and you felt like kissing him aggressively from how fluffy he is.
“I’m almost done.” The spare human spoke diverting your attention from Snowy.
The smell of the pasta sauce was getting stronger with every whiff, he marinated the grilled chicken with it before dropping the pasta in the pan. You were a bit baffled as to why he didn’t play any songs, if you’re not mistaken it may be the first time you witness him do something without music.
“Do you know why he likes you this much?” Harry asked you as he came up with a million answers before your reply.
“Cause he’s friendly?” You guessed looking back at Snowy who’s hiding his face in your lap.
“Quite the contrary actually, he’s an introvert but he adores strawberries and you smell like them.” Harry joined you on the sofa with a strawberry in his hand, tickling Snowy’s feet.
He looked up from your lap, and excitedly thumped his foot at the sight of the strawberry. “Eat it Snow Bun.” Harry whispered to him as if he were a child and bunny didn’t hesitate to nibble on it immediately with his teeth.
“He’s so adorable.” You cooed in awe as the white fur around his mouth got stained with strawberry.
“Mhmm very adorable.” Harry agreed except that he was looking at you instead.
When he was done eating, you gently removed the stem from his mouth throwing it away before wiping his mouth with a tissue. Harry was done with the Pasta and filled up a plate for both of you, he picked up Snowy and placed him in a cozy pink round blanket placed near the TV stand.
“He loves his blankie so he’ll probably nap.” Harry handed you over your plate and you can’t deny how delicious it looks, he even topped it with Parmesan cheese and dried mint.
You and Harry began devouring the pasta (which turned out to be the best you ever had) but after a few minutes the silence was loud and you remembered your initial interest before Snowy distracted you.
“Can you explain more of what is going on? Please?” You placed your plate on the table feeling too antsy over today’s events.
Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked over to find Snowy snoring and sound asleep before he began talking. “Concerning the race tonight, you were never meant to find out about it. It’s nothing but a side job but it can get dirty, which is why I didn’t want you there.” His words were serious and straightforward as he clasped his hands together and looked at you.
“It can sometimes include drugs, trading with stolen car parts, money laundering and other things and I am in no way affiliated with them. I’ll take care of your appearance but don’t do it again.” He insisted on his last sentence as you shivered recalling everyone’s eyes on you in the race.
“I’m so sorry please don’t shout at Niall, he must’ve thought that I knew about it. It was me who insisted on talking to you.” You felt disturbed at the thought of ruining their friendship, you made a mental note to apologize to Niall. He didn’t deserve it.
“I- I know.” That was all he could mutter as the scolding he had in mind for you evaporated when he saw your troubled and sorry face.
“You were probably just helping me concerning my job, I’m so stupid I even called it ‘my job’, I thought my boss was going to hire me , why would I even think that.” You dropped your head in your hands trying not to tear up at the idea of your wasted work.
“Don’t belittle yourself like that, I’m sure you’re amazing at what you do. His lack of morals has nothing to do with you.” He whispered softly, passing you a napkin when you’re not even crying. Maybe you’ll touch his fingers again he thought.
“I think I’ll head out now. Would you mind giving me a ride?”
“No I can’t.” He answered placing your empty dishes in the sink.
“Oh sorry, no pressure. I’ll walk using my GPS.” You replied as mentally slapped yourself for asking help from him.
“No cause you’re staying here. A thick or light duvet?” He scoffed at your idea of leaving at such an hour.
“Um thank you for that. Whatever is available and I’ll take the sofa.” Your bag was clutched around your waist and Harry dropped the fork dramatically. You’re more pleasant and gentle than he assumed.
“Nonsense, the bed is yours but if Snowy wakes you up, it’s on you not me.” His remark made you giggle as you looked back at the sleeping Bunny who’s already travelled to a different land filled with strawberries.
Harry got to work right away, preparing his room for you and changing the bedsheets, you had no idea that he was freaking out internally as he did not even understand his motive behind making everything perfect. On the other hand he had no clue that you wished he didn’t change the fresh bedsheets as it held his scent.
His room was a wonder, a king sized bed in the middle of the room, the glass window overlooking the wide field, and in the corner was another vinyl stand with a table holding a guitar and notebooks. He had a mini telescope placed near the window, and a large mirror plastered against the wall. It wouldn’t be his room if not for the hydrangea vase near his bedside table where a Franz Kafka book lays.
A huge white grandfather clock was on the other side of the room, not only did it amaze you having only seen wooden brown clocks, but you wondered about Harry’s infatuation with time.
You followed him into the spacious bathroom containing a bath tub and jacuzzi , he almost bumped into you as he held items in his hand. “I don’t have visitors often so these will have to do and I found a spare toothbrush.” He handed you an oversized white shirt with ‘women are smarter’ printed on it along with shorts that can be tightened around the waist since you it’s double your size.
He was about to leave through the door before you interrupted. “I hope I don’t appear rude, but how did you get this house? It’s not like this in town or even big cities for that matter.” You pinched at your skin feeling anxious over your nosy question.
“I have an engineering degree, good night. Bunny wakes up early by the way.” He flashed you a cheeky grin before closing the door behind him as you stood trying to add one more information to the ones you received today.
After he left you helped yourself to a hot shower allowing his pine shower gel to linger all over your body, it felt so relaxing after the day you went through. It was nearing one in the morning and you brushed your teeth before laying in the lavender scented bedsheets. The window was open and you can smell the soil and Harry’s hydrangeas outside.
Maybe moving here was a good idea after all.
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A soft and warm entity was pressed into your waist as your eyes fluttered open, you can hear the melody of birds outside and the sun casted a ray against your bare skin making you smile at the feeling. You looked beneath your duvet and found Snowy snuggled up to your side, his ears pointed down and hands joined together.
You gave him a soft pat on the head making him cuddle further into your skin, your strawberry smell was probably gone after the shower so you’re not sure why he likes you this much.
The feeling of the duvet against your skin with the sun caressing it and the light breeze sneaking in through the window made your heart flutter. You’ve never experienced such a perfect morning, the twittering of the birds was like a familiar melody that you can’t grasp.
Harry’s room was even prettier in the daylight, adorned with sunlight and shadows of the field outside. The notebooks on the table almost tempted you to peer at them but you immediately frowned at the thought, knowing that you wouldn’t want someone to look at your journal.
You decided to get up with a groan, leaving his warm bed and bunny as you headed to the bathroom, the clock marked six in the morning ,you used the toilet and brushed your teeth before changing back into your clothes and neatly folding Harry’s on the bed you made.
The living room was quiet and the sun struck the mosaic chandelier painting pretty patterns on the wall. Harry was sound asleep on the sofa with a hand tucked beneath his chin. You wanted to laugh because he looked exactly like Snowy when he was napping.
You preferred to leave quietly after everything that happened yesterday, and to avoid the awkward encounter between you and Harry when he wakes up. You kissed Snowy goodbye and gently found your way out of the house.
A walk in the sun ought to help you think about many things, but first of all you need to push away a certain pair of green eyes to the back of your mind.
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You called your boss when you arrived home and asked for a meeting with him and after going back and forth, he agreed to see you at eleven o’clock , you were now seated in front of him in his office watching him eat a donut as you felt your stomach turn at the thought of confronting him.
“So how can I help?”
“Actually I wanted to talk about my employment, I-“
“Listen why don’t we leave it till the day comes in like 6 days?” He straightened his posture in the seat and looked back at you.
“No we can’t leave it , are you going to hire me?” you insisted as anxiety rose in your body by the minute.
“I’m sure we can discuss this in-“
“Or will you tell me to leave after my hard work like every volunteer before me?!” Your voice rose as both of you turned red in the face. You at your boldness and him at being exposed.
“I’m not sure who told you that, people love to spread rumors.” He loosened his tie and you can feel the change in his breathing.
“Oh so you already have an answer prepared. Why would you assume that someone told me?” You cornered him with your reply and he was no longer looking at you in the eye.
“No you’re talented we just have a tight budget, I can hire you and start from 200$ a month” He rambled quickly and anxiously and was gulping continuously.
“No. I quit or should I say I no longer wish to be a volunteer?” You stood up from your chair grabbing your bag to leave before he stopped you.
“You can’t do that. You still have a week of employment.” He sneered thinking that he can trap you into working for him.
You silently fetched a paper from your bag observing his face go red when he saw that it’s the contract. “Volunteers are not obliged to deliver a full service to our institution. Any volunteer that feels in need of ending their commitment shall do so without the need for any contract, approval or written acceptance. However the institution is in duty of providing a volunteering certificate.” You finished speaking and folded the contract back into your bag, taking in his flushed and embarrassed face.
“I expect to receive my certificate in an email soon.” You muttered your last sentence before leaving not allowing another word from him.
It wasn’t until your walk home that you smiled like an idiot, feeling like you won a battle. For the first time you spoke your mind without even thinking and defended yourself against a snarky man who was exploiting you.
Your cheeks were hurting from how much you smiled, it might be nothing but for you it was a tiny victory.
Back in your apartment, you celebrated with continuing Pride & Prejudice and pondered about making a Turkey sandwich when your phone chimed several times.
‘Where are you?’
‘Why aren’t you at the garage?’
‘I can’t find my crawler’
‘Where did you put my top secret car oil!’
You received these messages from Harry whom you thought was mad at you for yesterday. You didn’t expect him to question your whereabouts and besides top secret oil?
‘I’m not fired?’. You texted back.
‘You have fifteen minutes to be here.’ He replied immediately.
You sent him a saluting emoji, scurried to dress up and placed the book in your bag.
But first, Turkey Sandwich.
A/n: Hope you loved this chapter! Please leave a feedback through an ask or comment xoxo.
But first, Turkey Sandwich.
Taglist: @matildasatellite @xxrosebunny @theroosterswife24 @novasblogofstuff @gem1712 @miasdelicatepov @jessitpwk @tiaamberxx @peacheskiwi @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tbsloneely @namelesssav @20031990s @prettythingsworld @st-ev-ie @slut4marvelmenn @swiftmendeshoran @sagcas-latte @missmielyhoran @a-strange-familiar @wandas-lawyer @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @blepskies @that-daydream-look @hslt-2809 @ivegotparticulartaste @itslottiehere @harryssideboob @malwtilda @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @epidxte @indierockgirrl @annesauriol @leenameh @scottisantman @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut. If your tag is green then it didn’t work :(
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a-strange-familiar · 2 months
wait! since harry's birthday is tomorrow can you make a fic about y/n celebrating his birthday?
Yeahhhhh... It's just a small fic , I'm actually busy with my exams🥲.... but I couldn't resist this. IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY. (Not proof read)
Thank you for the request nonnie, let me know if you like it <3
Birthday boy
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Harry woke up with his beautiful girlfriend pressing kisses all over his face and neck. He hummed at the feeling and smiled with his eyes closed.
He appreciated the love and the softness of her lips for a while and opened his eyes to his girlfriend who is smiling now.
"Happy birthday, baby!" She said with a huge grin and pressed her lips to his passionately. He let her kiss him,there is no other best way to start his birthday other than this anyway.
She pulled away from him, with the same beautiful smile that he fell in love with.
"What a great way to start my day." He said with a smirk on his face.
"Anything for the birthday boy. And now get up because your girlfriend did a lot of hardwork and made you breakfast." She said while getting off of the bed.
Harry just chuckled and shook his head at his girlfriend while she practically ran out of the room.
After a while he went down stairs and found his Y/n arranging the table with amazing breakfast.
"Baby, this smells soo good." He complimented her while sitting on the chair.
"Thank you, bubs."
"But really you didn't have to do all of this. I would be happy to just spend some time with you." He admitted while stuffing his mouth with the delicious breakfast that his love made for him.
"Oh shhhh. It's your birthday obviously I'm gonna cook for you, but don't get used to it. It's only your birthday special." She said with a cheeky smile on her face.
He laughed." I'll keep that in mind, and I'm glad you made this, this is soo good."
They had their breakfast while talking and laughing.
After completing breakfast and loading the dishes in the dishwasher they settled on the couch for a bit. Few minutes later there is a knock on the front door.
Harry furrowed his brows and asked "Are we expecting someone ?"
Y/n just shrugged her shoulders and ushered him to open the door.
The moment he opend the door he met with two bright smiling familiar faces.
His mother and sister shouted and practically lunged at him and attacked him with a hug. He was surprised, no he was shocked to see them and also skipped a heartbeat for the sudden shouting. But he embraced them, he smiled at his mother and sister and hugged back tightly.
"Mom, Gemma! What are you guys doing here ? " He asked once they pulled back from each other.
"It's your big day, lil bro. Obviously we will be here." Gemma said and hugged him again.
"Happy birthday, H." She said to him.
"Thank you, Gem."
After pulling away from Gemma, Anne went in for a hug again. "Happy birthday my love. I'm soo happy and proud of you for everything you have done."
"Thank you,mum." He could feel tears brimming in his eyes but he stopped before falling.
Y/n joined them while they are talking and Gemma noticed her first and went to hug her. They both hugged and laughed about something Gemma said.
He can't help but awe at the sight of his girlfriend, the love of his life and his mother talk and laugh together happily.
They all went inside and caught up on each other and talked about everything and anything.
While his mother and Y/n are in the kitchen together, Harry can't help but fall in love with her all over again. The way his love and his mother are talking and being comfortable with each other is just making him soo happy. The way his mother tipped her head back laughing at something Y/n said and placing her palm over Y/n's, he couldn't help but observe these little details.
Gemma sat with him and patted on his shoulder. " penny for your thoughts "
He smiled
"Nothing just happy that you both made it here. I'm soo happy to spend time with you guys."
"Me too. We missed you a lot. And you have to thank Y/n for this. She is the one who planned this and made us fly here. She booked the tickets and asked us to keep it as a secret from you." Gemma smiled and squeezed her brothers hand.
Harry just went speechless with that. His love towards her increasing with every passing minute. His heart is bursting with happiness and love.
Gemma squeezed his hand again. "She is perfect Harry, I have never seen you this happy or soo deep in love. Trust me she is the one. Never let her go."
He turned his head and looked at the women he is madly in love with, still talking to his mother about something that she is showing on her phone.
Then he met eyes with Y/n. She turned her head and looked at him, meeting his emerald ones. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss.
He smiled with his heart in his eyes, how is he not supposed to fall in even more love with her ?
Harry and his mother are driving back home from the grocery store, apparently his mother need some ingredients to make deserts . So they both ran to store to get them.
"You look so happy, darling " his mother said while both are half way into the drive.
He smiled and said "I am , mum. I'm soo happy and feel soo lucky"
"I'm happy you guys are here. I'm happy because Y/n makes me happy " He said with smile adored his face and blush creeping his neck.
"I'm soo happy to see you guys together. You both are soo good to each other. I can't wait her to be completed family. It's not like she is not a family now, but I can't wait to completely make her my daughter." Anne said and squeezed his arm.
The taught of marrying Y/n brought butterflies in his stomach. They have been dating for three years now and madly in love ever since. They were friends before that and that blossomed into lot more later.
With Y/n he felt safe, he felt like he never loved anyone before. He felt comfortable around her to show his flaws and be himself, her felt confident. He felt home with her.
She is his muse.
He had been imagining his future with her form soo long, but now that even his mother saying that made him happy. Him marrying her and having kids and building a home with her, everything is soo surreal.
"Yeah, even I can't wait for that "
When they entered the house everything is soo silent, he wonderd where Y/n is.
As he and his mother made their way inside he got startled with a huge sound of people shouting happy birthday.
His friends and his team, band everyone are present. Everyone wearing a party hat and some party glasses.
Harry is soo happy to see everyone, house is decorated. It's simple but beautiful, he figured that Y/n did it all with Gemma's help. His heart swelled at that, she did this for him. Surprised him with his mother and sister and now a Surprise party. She is an angle he thought.
"Mum, you knew about this, didn't you ?" Harry asked his mother.
She smiled and shrugged.
There are just few people it's not a huge party, just selected amount like his close friends like Jeff, Glen, Mitch, Sarah and his whole band and team and few other close friends. Exactly how he like. It's intimate and special.
Everyone wished and hugged him.
Jeff came and hugged him "Happy birthday,man"
"Thanks, Jeffery."
"Wow your getting old." He teased him which earned a swat on his arm by his wife Glenn.
"Happy birthday, Harry." She hugged him too
"Thank you, Glenn." He smiled
Even with room full of people he like his eyes and heart still searched for Y/n. She is not in the room, maybe in the kitchen.
Just as he was about go find her, she appeared from the kitchen with a cake in her hands. She changed into a beautiful and simple dress which made him loose his mind she also had a party cap on her head.
She slowly made her way to every with a smile on her face. His angle .
She placed the cake down and stood infront of Harry. He circled his hands around her waist and pulled into a hug and nuzzles his face into her neck and breathed her in.
"I love you, my angle." He said and pulled away from her neck but stood the same with his arms around her.
"I love you too, honey."
He smiled and kissed her. Longer than a peck and shorter than an actual kiss, but very short for his liking.
"Happy birthday, love"
He cut the cake while everyone is singing him the birthday song while his love is beside him all the time. He blew the candles while wishing for happiness, their happiness.
He couldn't let her go from his side. He kept her close throughout the party. While Y/n is playing a good hostess duty and making sure everyone is having a great time, he roamed with her like a lost puppy.
At one point everyone got loose, not drunk but definitely not completely sober. Harry started some slow music and encouraged everyone to dance. He pulled Y/n to the center and started dancing with her. His arms around her waist and her's around his neck. They slowly started swaying to the music enjoying the silence around even though there are people around they left like it's only them in the room.
"Happy birthday." She said maybe for the 15th time since morning and pecked his lips.
He slowly chuckled "thank you, love"
She smiled
"Really, thank you for everything." He said and pulled her even closer to him so they are pressed to each other.
"This is the bare minimum, Harry. I would do anything for you."
It's fixed, he is completely fucked with love and he is making her his wife.
"And I have some gifts waiting for you upstairs, once the party is over we'll get to that." She said and rested her head on his should.
"I don't want any of those gifts, love. All I need is right infront me in my arms. That's enough for me.:
She looked in his eyes and then his lips.
He closed the gap between them and kissed her. Very slow and passionate. He parted her lips with his tounge and entered into her mouth. His lips moved with her with ease. They fit perfect together, like a missing piece of puzzle. They are perfect together.
After few more minutes they pulled away and to get some air.
"Best birthday ever "
A/n : please let me know what you think. Please talk to me and tell me if you like it, pretty please. 💗
Hope you enjoyed.
Thank you for reading
Like, comment, and reblog if you like.
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stylesmygucci · 6 months
-𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐇.𝐒
Pairing: best friend!harry x reader
Content warning: fluff, talks of Fiancé’s and Ex’s & love
Word count: 2k
A/n: guess how long I’ve had this puppy in my drafts? ok but i never give my one-shots part two’s but I’m thinking ab it… I really like it… enjoy:) masterlist
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Sex, talk, heartbreak, clogs. All a part of the most exotic parties— ones Harry threw at least.
We were three hours in; sweat drenched our hairline and underarm’s, tequila was starting to taste like water, and the weird party lights we had since god-knows-when made me dizzy until I was nauseous.
The guest bathroom was shut, moans leaking through the creaks under the door. I hated bathroom hoggers. The only restroom left in this little home was the one in Harry’s room. It was kept locked so Harry wouldn’t get infested with crabs.
It was one of those locks that could be opened by a penny, or the tip of an acrylic nail.
Every ounce of food and liquid I consumed was huddling at the tip of my tongue. I nearly missed the toilet (I halfway did).
“You’re cleaning that up tomorrow.”
I pulled away from the toilet with a blazing throat and mouth that tasted like bad dip. My head spun so much I couldn’t focus on the voice.
I’m going crazy.
The shower curtains shook open. I turned and caught Harry’s lopsided smile— the dimpled one that never failed to make my stomach bubble (in a good way).
“Why are you hiding in there?” I asked, letting the weight of my head naively rest on the toilet seat.
He huffed through his mouth. Then, I saw right past his facade.
Sarah guessed three shots, Mitch guessed two, I guessed 12 AM. The answers didn’t match, but I figured it would take time to let something devastating sink in rather than drinks. We made a bet on when the high of the party would go down and he was faced with the fact that his fiancé was now his ex-fiancé.
“Too many people.” He grumbled, playing with the hem of his shirt.
The toilet flushed and I was back on my feet throwing a towel on the puked bit of floor before making my way over the tub.
“You don’t fit.” He half-groaned, half-laughed.
“I’ll make myself fit.” I snuggled myself between his crossed legs and the cold tile beside the faucet. It was a tight space, but he was thin enough for us to both fit. Uncomfortably, that is.
“You look like you had fun.” He said.
“Hm, what gave it away?” I sighed, closing my eyes to relieve myself of the nausea that was coming back.
“You haven’t puked like that since we were teenagers.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. We had the bright idea of going to this popular’s girl party in year 11. We left drunk, and in so much trouble. One of the cops that caught us just happened to be our neighbor and drove us home without punishment.
Our mums didn’t hold back, though. I threw up my guts the next morning; as if that didn’t make me feel horrible enough, Harry had to watch as punishment, with Anne giving us a well-worded lecture about how disappointed she was and how she hopes we learn from our mistakes.
It only took us a couple tries.
“I still feel horrible about that night.” I wipe a tear away, stomach aching from laughter.
“It was very traumatizing. I thought I saw you threw up blood.”
“It was hot Cheetos.” I laughed hard, and so did he.
I closed my eyes for just a second to let myself breath. But he patted my knees.
“How’re you holding up, with the-“
“The ex-boyfriend thing?”
“Better…” I could sense that Anne ‘that’s a lie’ look he gained as he got older, so I shortened the lie and laughed, “Not so well.”
One of those laughs that reveals how hurt you are before you burst into tears.
I hated myself for leaving Him with so much power over my emotions. But it’s hard to move on from someone you saw everyday, made love to every other day, and told your secrets to because you trusted them.
Trust is a silly thing. Just as love.
Harry would know.
My face grew warm, and wet. Harry rubbed my knee, comfortingly. He knew this pain, this territory. But never were we both in the same state, disregarding our feelings to take care of one another. It felt foreign and I started to feel useless.
I hated that my heart hurt while his heart hurt, but maybe in a way, it’ll bring us closer together.
He sniffled. “God, I hate when you cry. It makes me cry.”
I opened my eyes to catch him wiping his tears. Then, I found myself crying more for afflicting my pain on him. Fuck drunk minds, and fuck stupid exes.
“Harry, don’t cry.” I whined.
He groaned before rubbing his eyes.
“Come on,” he patted my knee again, straightening himself in his spot to get up. He sniffled once more before he stepped over and offered me his hand. I stared at it, blearily. “Come on.” He said again.
Then I took his hand and stood a little too fast for my head. He held my hips in place until I gained balance.
“Don’t slip, you knob.” He laughed. He took one of my arms over his shoulders and led us the small patio outside his room.
There weren’t many people outside. Maybe a couple smoking a joint or two, converting in quiet voices.
“You think you’ll be able to climb up.” He pointed to the latter at the side of his house. If I hadn’t gone up there so many times before, drunk me would deny, but instead she gave me a boost of confidence.
“Psh! Yeah!”
He stared at me with his eyes wide. Even I heard my loud slurred words.
“We can stay-“
“Just hold my bum up, Harry.” I said, already making my way to the third step.
He gripped onto my waist firmly. All of a sudden I thought of all those times I’ve been touched on the waist; sexually, comfortingly. His hands felt hot, like they could burn a hole into my skin.
“Did you change your mind?” He says.
I looked at my spot on the latter, frozen still, then I shake my head.
I continued step after step, Harry’s grip getting looser and lower as I climbed higher.
Just hold my bum up, Harry.
Finally, I made at the very top and the weed stench was wary from here. Carefully, I roamed the top. Random tools and one of Harry’s old fisherman hats were up here.
“When was the last time you came up here?” I asked.
The latter wobbled some more before he responded with a grunt. “Erm, about three months I think.”
I could tell. The blue was turning brown and some of it was covered in bird turd. If anything it looked like it had been up here for years.
“Shit, that’s where my lucky hat went.”
He picked it up and for a second I thought he was going to put it on his head.
“Please don’t put it on.”
And for a second I couldn’t believe I doubted him.
He put it over his head and turned to look at me with a happy smile.
“You didn’t even smell it. You’ll have lice!”
He laughed and took it off to give it a whiff. Immediately, his face scrunched in regret.
“Oh god, that is-“
He laughed hard enough to almost fall to his knees.
He opened his eyes to look at me with a peak of mischief. “You wanna smell it?”
“Absolutely not.” I slowly inched away.
“Just take a whiff, love.” He tilted it towards me.
“No, Harry.”
I eyed the hat as he grew closer and closer to me.
“I’m not kidding when I say I’ll murder you in cold blood, Harry.”
“You would do no such thing!” He whined.
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
With a blink of my eye, he took his chance. I tried to run past him but he was too fast.
He wrapped his arm around me and waved the hat in my face. I gagged, inhaling every bit of sour, wretched, sweat infused scent of it.
“Plead for mercy!” He shouted deliberately.
“I plead! I plead!”
He laughed and let me go. Once the horrifying smell withered away, I joined him and tried to laugh the trauma away.
Harry threw the hat over the balcony. I laid flat on the floor to try and catch my rugged, chest-burning breaths. I got to catch a glimpse of the moon too.
“Plead for mercy?” I ask.
“Year 5, remember?” He joined me on the floor.
My mind goes back to a 10 year old Harry and a group of 5 other girls wearing head wigs and role playing as the Supreme Court. It was a sick experiment our teacher did for English. We had to defend our essay thesis’s like they were going to get executed.
Mine got executed but Harry made a scene in front of the other girls to defend me. Then one of them got fed up and stood, screaming “plead for mercy! Plead!” Panically, I did what she said. Harry made light of it by repeating it every time he could, and since then it’s always made me laugh.
“I remember. I just haven’t heard that in a while.”
“We use it all the time…” he pauses, “at least we used to.” His laugh grows faint.
It’s always like this. We get partners and slowly fade from each other, give the attention we gave to each other to them. Never the less, none of them deserved it.
“I missed you, Harry.”
We saw each other nearly everyday, but he knows what I mean. It’s never the same as it was when we were kids.
“I missed you too, Y/n.”
I turn to my side and he already has his head turned to me. I think about every memory since we were fifteen: every crush I thought I had, every boyfriend I thought I loved… I think and I think. And I don’t think I ever truly felt for them how strongly I ever felt towards Harry.
Staring at him,— the wrinkles he’s grown with age, the features that enhanced over the years; his nose, his eyes, his hair, his cheeks, his mouth— I think.
I think I’m too scared to admit what I feel… because I’ve never thought so deeply about it. I’ve never allowed myself to.
I look back at his eyes and they shrink as he smiles.
“I can see the moon in your eyes.” He says.
I take in the way he said it and realize how much I love it when he speaks.
“Do you see how much I love you?” My drunk mind voices, I know it this time because I can hear it. I can hear the hint of eagerness and pathetic validation falling from the tip of my tongue.
He nods without hesitation.
“Do you see it in mine?” He says. I look into them and get sucked in. I want to kiss him, but I don’t. I want to hug him, but I don’t. I’m still; frozen.
I do see it, Harry.
“Harry-“ I say, and he scoots closer like he’s ready to listen. I’m scared he’s close enough to hear my heart now and how loudly it bangs against my chest; how fast it’s talking like it’ll never shut up.
It doesn’t shut up.
Unfortunately, it speaks.
“I’ll never love anyone like I love you, Harry.” I say. “It’s scary, but you’re the one person I don’t think I could ever stop loving, Harry. You’re the light of my life…” I hesitate, but my heart speaks again, “the love of my life.”
Then, my heart shuts up. Like the words were a release.
He smiles. He leans forward the tiniest bit and meets his forehead with mine.
“Can I scare you a little more?” He says. I don’t respond. “I think you’re mine too. I think you have been for a very long time, Y/n.”
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dayoldtea · 1 month
pairing: harry styles x brazilian!famous!reader
fc: bruna marquezine
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liked by user19, user76 and 17.841 others
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user111 HIS HAIR???!?!?!! IM FUCKING DEAD
user165 excuse me sir, where is your girlfriend?
user241 ok but yn was wearing this same hoodie a few weeks ago during a live on instagram
⤷ user268 i thought i was the only one who noticed! this hoodie is definitely hers
user344 this is giving frat boy harry in the best way
user417 the way he and yn are always wearing each other's clothes—
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user06 she and harry always find the camera
user51 she's so pretty, bye
user76 WHERE IS HARRY????
⤷ user105 that's a good question
user83 the most beautiful woman in the world
user99 @yourinstagram girl, you better be at the grammy tomorrow
user108 i love her so much
user417 MY WIFE
user420 literally everyone's favorite person
user590 why hasn't harry put a ring on her finger yet?
user622 if she really goes to the grammy with harry i will lose my mind 😃
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harry_updatemedia Harry on the 65th #GRAMMYs red carpet tonight! February 5
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user92 HIS TATTOOS🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
user187 the real proof that harry looks hot in anything he proposes to wear
user236 harry lambert u had one job...
user248 i can only imagine what yn thought of this outfit
user301 IM NOT OKAY
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yourinstagram see you soon grammys
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billieeilish i chocked
⤷ user761 literally me
user891 i would also write two whole albums about her
user912 i just don't know what to say
zendaya excuse me, are you single?
⤷ user1021 lmfao half of the internet is asking the same question right now
user1066 wishing i was harry tonight
harrystyles holy shit
⤷ user2811 LMFAOOOOOO
user3181 MOMMY?? SORRY
jacobelordi wow 🔥🔥🔥
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user86 im so fucking proud of him 😭
user265 i'll never shut up about him
user295 this is art
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ynandharryupdates "I want to take a moment to give a special thanks to my beautiful, brilliant and talented girlfriend. Y/N, absolutely none of this would be possible without your constant presence and support in my life. Thank you for being here tonight, and thank you for inspiring me every day to write songs that surely wouldn't exist if it weren't for you. I love you. I love you and I hope to keep showing you that every day as long as you allow me to." Harry Styles during his speech as the winner of the album of the year award at the #GRAMMYs
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user91 sleeping on the highway tonight... 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️
user104 "beautiful, brilliant and talented girlfriend" i'm biting my pillow
user131 lizzo recording yn's reaction was the cutest thing ever
user145 so many tears
user230 the way yn held harry's hand when they announced the names in the category, the way he immediately turned to her when his name was called, the way they clearly said "i love you" to each other before they embraced and he came on stage to accept the award, the way his voice wavered a little as he dedicated the award to her… im dead
user265 how can i not be single when harry styles is my ideal male pattern?
user410 crying, screaming, shaking, throwing up, pulling out my hair
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yourinstagram meu amor (my babe) is a grammy winner
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harrystyles the real winners of the grammy for album of the year
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harrysarchive · 2 months
so you wanna
marry me?: h.s.
tattooartist!harry x baker!reader
smut 18+ please, h eating out reader that's it, oral (f receiving) in a tattoo parlour (scandalous;) ) .
"but what if i wanted to propose to you? wanna get you ya dream ring bee." he grabs ahold of my hands and brings them to his lips pressing kisses on my knuckles.
i pull my hands away and grab ahold of his face and pull him in for a kiss, " i'd marry you with a ring for the coin machine at the pizza place down the street."
harry's overworking himself for money to afford for the future.
another adventure with tattooartist!harry x baker!reader.
p.s.a. want it to be known that h and bee have been dating for about 3 years in this one shot🫶🏽
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i let out a string of hums as i walk over towards harry's tattoo parlour, a pip in my step. i decided to bring him lunch knowing he likes to over work himself. (especially on fridays and saturdays knowing those are his busiest day's.) letting out a sigh of relief when i see the parlour the dark colours contrast with the lighter coloured buildings. i walk into the building and see all black walls with plants hanging and placed on counters. niall is the the first person i see and i greet him with a wide smile.
"hey ni!" i muse to him and he smiles at me.
"hey bee, how's it goin'?"
"good, brought har some lunch."
"oh he's with a client but you can go ahead," he pointed to harry's private room, "did you bring me anything ?" he sassed crossing his arms over his chest.
"ya didn't ask for anything." i huff rolling my eyes and walking towards harry's office.
as i get closer to the room an obnoxiously loud laugh echos through the halls. oh great another flirty girl trying to get her way with my man. i decide to knock on the door and harry lets out a curse.
"who the fuck is it?" he snaps before the doors thrown open and his glare is set on me before it melts into a smile.
"brought you lunch asshole." i chuckle holding up the bag of takeout.
"thank you m' heart. come in." he move to the side and i slipped through the door.
my eyes land on the obnoxious loud girl, blonde hair, petite shape, lululemon jacket and shorts. she raises an eyebrow at me before asking, "who are you? this is a private appointment."
"she's my girlfriend." harry answers pulling out a rollie chair he has in the closet that he got for me.
the chair looks odd in the dark room, black walls and blue accents make it look like a elephant in a room with puppy's. it's pink and in the shape of a daisy with a crocheted white blanket sitting nice and folded on the cushion.
"oh well, i would like for my tattoo session to be private." she said voice filled with venom.
"oh well, you're just a walk-in and i'm pretty sure nialls done so you can either let her stay or get the fuck out." harry snapped at the girl and she huffs before sitting on the tattoo chair.
i quickly sit in my chair and roll over closer to harry, he hands me a scrunchie and mumbles, "can ya put it in a bun bee." i let out a 'mhm' and quickly tie it up in a bun making sure it's nice and tight.
"can you lay down." he says to the girl and motions her to the chair.
i quirk an eyebrow at the blonde headed girl who laughs like she's heard the funniest thing in the world, harry raises an eyebrow as well at her before his face scrunches in confusion, obviously confused at what's funny.
"what's so funny?" he asked bluntly before shifting to sit fully on his chair.
the girl giggles again before putting a hand on his bicep, "you, silly!"
"all i said was to lay back." he scoffed motioning to the chair.
she obliges and lays down, i look at her sketch and a small smile makes its way to my face. it's two cherries stuck together by the stem, and little twinkles shine on them.
"it's cute." i mumble to her and she scoffs.
"i know, that's why i'm getting it."
"don't be bloody rude." harry barks at the poor girl, "she just complemented you."
it goes silent after that Kings Of Leon's Sex On Fire playing is the only thing heard. harry lays the stencil on her upper thigh he asks if that is where she wants it and she nods.
"how was your day?" harry breaks the silence as he starts his tattoo gun up.
"it-" i start but the girl cuts me off.
"it's was good, i went out with my friends and had brunch and then i went to the mall-" she also starts but she's cut off by harry.
"i didnt ask you." he deadpanned before looking over at me, "how was your day bee?"
"it was good, was kinda busy at the bakery, you know it's saturday and all the mums go out to walk around the strip buying all their nick-nacks. martha said she could handle the bakery but she hasn't text me so i don't know, maybe i should message her. anyways then i went to the library bought two books, i started one of them and it's alright, it's just a bit slow you know the whole introduction part is always boring to me." i trail off and he chuckles nodding his head, "then i went to kung fu chop to pick up our food."
"ya left my favourite person alone on one of ya busiest days?" harry fake scoffs and i chuckle.
"y'know what she told me, 'i can handle it, ya being an uptight pussy!' " i let out a laugh as i recall martha scolding me with her hands on her hips.
harry lets out a snicker, "that's ma girl."
the girl is looking at me with a scowl on her face, i can see the botox failing to do it job, wrinkles showing as her forehead is scrunched. i raise an eyebrow at her and she lets out a huff before her face turns into one of fake discomfort.
"ow! that one hurt!" she whines and harry looks at her.
"buck up." i murmur and harry snickers.
"so harry, was it?" the girl starts before laying a hand on his forearm.
"yes. can you not hold me ya gonna end up fuckin it up." he shakes her off before finishing off the little twinkles.
"what do you do for fun around here? 'm not from holmes chapel." she continues to talk.
"nothin'." harry response turning off the tattoo gun and placing it down, he takes out healing ointment as spreading it with a tongue depressor. "but if there's one thing i love to do its probably ma girlfriend."
i hold back a snort as her face drops, harry wraps the tattoo before taking off his gloves and pointing towards the door, "niall will get you it's gonna be a hundred."
"you're the worst tattoo artist i know!" she huffs jumping off the chair.
"ya too kind!" harry sneers sarcastically as she basically runs out of the private room and he slams the door.
i strut over to harry and wrap my arms around his shoulders, he turns in my arms and looks down at me. he looks drained and he's definitely in need of a nap, his under eyes drag down and a frown is settled on his face.
"oh h, have you not been taking care of yourself?" i tsk in a whisper and he shrugs his shoulders, "babe this isn't healthy look at you, you need to allow yourself to have breaks, you look overworked h." i kiss his forehead and he sighs.
"you know saturday's are one of my busiest days bee, we need the money for our expense."
"we have more than enough harry. we're in a good place in our life." i say caressing his cheek.
"but what if i wanted to propose to you? wanna get you ya dream ring bee." he grabs ahold of my hands and brings them to his lips pressing kisses on my knuckles.
i pull my hands away and grab ahold of his face and pull him in for a kiss, " i'd marry you with a ring for the coin machine at the pizza place down the street."
he lets out a snort before capturing my lips with his, he captures my bottom lips and gives it a bite, his hips roughly move against mine looking for friction.
"wait," i push him off and point to the door, "tell niall you're on break and lock the damn door."
he looks at me with twinkling eyes and a smile, " 'f course ma heart, ya bloody amazing." he rushes over to the door fixing himself and shouts at niall, " 'm on break don't let anyone in."
"you guys are fuckin pigs." niall gags and harry flips him off.
he quickly closes the door and locks it before walking over to be and pushing me towards the tattooing chair. his hands find themselves under my shirt and he unclasps my bra, the straps fall down my arms and he quickly takes my shirt off.
"ya tits are bloody amazing'." he gives me a toothy grin and i snort.
"ya like a teenage boy, swear it."
"cant help it, it's like they get bigger each time pet." he muses as his hands find their way back to my boobs, he rolls my nipples between his pointer finger and thumb, his eyes turning a darker shade of green as he looks at me. i let a moan slip as he bring his mouth to one and tugs on the other.
"yea, just like that h." i mewl as i grab ahold of the hair tie in his hair and watch as it  loosely falls into place.
he lets his hands explore my body and they make there way to the button(s) of my jeans, harry lets out a groan, "i fuckin hate these jeans."
"they make me look good! and my ass looks fat in them!" i try reasoning with him as he undone all six buttons.
"swear to you, 'm gonna throw them away when we get home." he promises as one of his hands dips into my panties.
"no! they're ma favourites- oh!" i let out a moan as his fingers make there way down my slit and he slowly starts rubbing circles on my clit.
he keeps his torturous slowly speed before pulling away full and i let a whine of displeasure out. harry doesn't waste anytime pulling down my pants and panties, he sits in his rollie chair and spreads my legs before licking his lips, "got the prettiest pussy bee."
"harry!" i whine at the praise and he chuckles before placing hot wet open mouth kisses on my calve and trails up my thigh.
a gasp leaves my mouth as he press a hot kiss on my clit, my hands automatically grab ahold off his long hair and giving it a tug. he lets out a grunt before licking a strip up my cunt, my eyes start to roll back as his skilful tongue works it's way through me. he drags a finger up to spread my folds before he stuffs two in me and places his mouth back on my clit. stars start appearing in my vision.
" 's so good h!"
"yea? ya gonna cum for me bee? want you to cum all over my face." he murmured.
the knot in my stomach ties tighter and my air feels like it's being sucked away from me. harry works his tongue and fingers faster as i clench around him.
"gonna cum baby!" i let a pornographic moan out and clutch his hair tighter.
"fuck, pull tighter bee." i automatically oblige and yank harder causing him to moan loudly, "cum for me bee, i fuckin need you to cum."
the knot starts to fall apart as my orgasm hits me, my legs shake and i choke on my breath. harry let's me ride out my high before he stands up and places a kiss on my lips.
"taste better than any of that damn frostin' you make, swear it bee."
i catch my breath and a lazy smile makes its way to my face, "don't know if that's a complement or an insult to my baking.
he snorts and grabs the bag of take out, "whatcha bring me."
"sushi, rice and noodles, orange chicken, and honey walnut shrimp." i hum and go to sit up.
"hold on bee lemme get you a wipe and your clothes." he hums moving over to the drawer and grabbing a wet wipe, he gathers my clothes before sitting in front of me again. i let out a hiss at the contact of the cool wet wipe and my hot cunt.
"sorry, know you're sensitive didn't mean to pet." he quickly apologised and i smile shaking my head.
"it's okay, just a bit cold 's all."
after he finishes cleaning me up, he kisses my thigh before redressing me, "so you wanna marry me?" i teasingly ask and he smirks.
"wouldn't want it any other way."
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a/n: sorry it took me so long but i've been super busy and i'm currently working on a request someone sent in! so that one should be next :)
fratboy!harry x professor!reader 😳🤭
-all the love,
784 notes · View notes
mulledcherrywine · 1 month
vanilla and lavender
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summary: staying over at Harry’s for the first time
boyfriend!harry x y/n
a/n: I saw a tweet the other day that said Harry probably has a lavender diffuser to sleep with and like a super cozy sleep environment so I was inspired - creds to them !
“H?” you murmured, already tucked under the fluffy white duvet. His room was incredibly clean, the perfect temperature and quite possibly the most homey room you’d even been in.
After you’d just gotten tucked in, Harry had seemingly vanished. The space next to you was completely empty.
“Hang on,” he said cheerily, “just have t’do this”
You flipped yourself around, seeing his tall figure bent over the window sill, blue outside light creating his black shadow.
He was leaning over a small white orb-shaped thing. It looked like the top of a lamp, but clearly had something inside it.
“What’re you doing?” you asked, eyes nearly closed.
“You’ll see”
You groaned playfully, lying back again. You’d expected for your first time actually sleeping over and staying the full night he’d be all over getting to bed with you and cozying up. But here he was, tinkering with some thing on his window sill.
“And done!” he said, stepping over to the bed with you. A small stack of what looked like steam piped up from where he just was. It was a diffuser.
Then, lush lavender and vanilla swelled around the room.
The mattress dipped as Harry got in, wrapping his arms around your waist - fully encapsulating you in his frame.
“Is it nice?” he said softly, “the scents n’everything? tried to make it calming and that thing always helps me when m’anxious and stuff”
You smiled softly, “it’s perfect.”
He tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer.
“M’glad you’re here”
“Me too”
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harrieatthemet · 1 month
One Is Enough III
Everyone is practically drowning in it now. 
The silence is insufferably deafening; swallowing the entire room whole, its occupants along with it. The most begrudging, loudest silence of all is radiating from the seat next to yours. Harry’s painfully quiet. And if you’ve taken notice, it’s likely so has everyone else. It’s likely why Anne leaps at the opportunity to jump in.
“Well,” her sigh is sing-song as she smiles, happy to be the one to break the tension, “s’wonderful news, honey. Absolutely wonderful really, I could just cry!”
You’d be lying if you didn’t admit to relishing in some form of relief. Keeping a pregnancy under wraps is mentally exhausting and putting it out there on the table, almost literally, was an un-ignorable weight lifted from your shoulders. Though it became his burden to carry, evidently, as Harry slides his wine glass back onto the table without uttering so much as an exhale.  
The subtle screeching of her chair across the floor is muffled by the onset of congratulations from everyone else; Gemma gushing on about having a nephew (she hopes), Clare and Mitch keen on the idea of a friend for their own little guy.
You accept the slew of kisses and hugs from your mother in law, agreeing to send her ultrasound photos and share name ideas once you have them. Harry keeps mum; expression stoic, barely moving when his mother rubs his shoulders and peppers him with kisses in congratulatory bliss.
There’s an onset of emotion, perhaps a little bit of everything all at once; anger, embarrassment, disappointment, befuddlement. hostility. The list runs onward and is so overwhelming that he, himself, is truly battling which one to address and digest first.
He’s like this for the rest of the evening; quiet, blank, and mentally removed from the physical atmosphere. You’ve been watching him out of the corner of your eye every so often, unable to ward off the ever-growing sense of uneasiness. The expression on his face hasn’t moved once, not even when everyone sang happy birthday and cheered as he blew out his candles. A weak smile was all he could muster up and give, though it was quickly wiped off. 
“No wishes needed,” Clare inquires, “(Y/N) gave you the best one!” 
Everyone hums in agreement except the two who are actually expecting. Of course, you smile meekly at Clare for the compliment before awkwardly adjusting yourself in your chair. But he says nothing, running his tongue over the front of his teeth behind closed lips. Unbeknownst to everyone else, you know he’s absolutely submerged in fury. 
Everyone starts shuffling out one by one, couple by couple until Anne and Gemma are the only two remaining. Once the last person leaves, the door closes and he does the lock, he’s sure to blow up; it’s almost like a silent understanding between the two of you. Each time one of you catches the other’s gaze, he makes sure to shoot you one of those glares. The infamous ‘I’ll deal with you later’ glare. 
“Give th’baby lots of kisses f’me,” Anne’s halfway out the door, coat hanging off her shoulders, “both of ‘em.”
About 90% of you wants to get on your knees and beg her to stay; just a little bit longer to wait out the inevitable conversation. But he’s got one hand on the door as he coaxes her out. You might not be ready to talk but he certainly is. If he didn’t love her as much as he did and adore her to death, he’d have given Anne a little shove out the door (as lovingly as possible, obviously) and shut it behind her. Biting his tongue this long and taming the fire in his gut was starting to feel impossible. He was one more photo of Anne’s recent holiday away from spinning off the planet.
The sound of the lock to the front door, even from all the way down the hall into the dining room, is almost blood curdling. The weight his footsteps are much, much worse. Each click of his heels against the wood sounded like impending doom. Closer, closer, and closer until he was standing right behind you. 
You can feel his eyes on the back of your head as you clean up the table, “Did you want to save the wine or-”
“(Y/N) I don’t fucking care about th’fucking wine.”
Upon turning to face him, perched like a statue in the archway of the door, you really really wished you’d just kept your back to him. The expression of his face is taught, riddled with aggravation as the line between his eyebrows becomes prominent as ever. With lips tight-lined and pressed, body stand-offish and tense, it’s obvious it’s taking whatever shred of self restraint he’s got in him right now to keep from flying right off the handle.
“Ok,” you huff in annoyance, “I’ll toss it than.”
The spout of the bottle is in your hand, gripped so tightly your knuckles have to be ghostly-white at this point. He knows you’re trying to dance around this because your execution earlier was so wrongly mishandled. And he scoffs when you walk past him out of the dining room and down the hall; mum and without word, head intentionally low to avoid eye contact.
“What the fuck is wrong with you” he growls, hot on your heels as you do the roundabout into the kitchen, “I mean, really (Y/N), how long have y’known about this?”
It feels like he’s about to crawl out of his own body, he’s so angry. Especially because you’re keeping your back to him, as though somehow emptying out the wine takes precedent over this conversation. And when you're done with that, you just move onto cleaning something else. Like he isn’t even there.
“Tell me how fucking long.”
The escalation in tone, as well as volume of his voice lands exactly how he wanted it to. The water in the sink stops running and and the clinking of glasses comes to an abrupt halt. His eyes are trailing your body, watching you begin straightening it out before turning around to look him right in the face.
“Three weeks,” still, you’re a lot smugger than he’d like you to be, “give or take.”
He swears he can feel the blood in his body come to a complete boil. There is no rash way to address this. Or you. Desperately, he tries to sift through his thoughts and find the right way to express what he’s feeling. Three weeks is almost a month; that’s what he can’t quite manage to wrap his head around. Of all the moments, big and small, within the past three weeks you had the opportunity to tell him you chose tonight; with an audience sat congregating at his own dinner table. 
When you turn to go back to the dishes as though you don’t see him vibrating with anger, he swears he might actually jump out of his own skin. And he’s honestly astounded at the audacity you’re exercising in a situation as heavy as this one. 
“Y’out of your bloody fucking mind?” he snaps at you before stomping over to the sink, moving your hand and shutting the water off again, “Sat on this f’three fucking weeks?” 
“Isn’t that literally what I just said?” 
“Christ enough o’ that, really.” he’s truly struggling to practice patience with you right now, especially when you match his anger with sarcasm, “Y’like a petulant child, (Y/N), with th’attitude. Grow up.” 
It’s admirable, really. There’s an incredibly stark difference in demeanor between you two. He’s writhing with enmity and embarrassment right now, but you’re smugness is unmatched. He would’ve thought hurling an insult would get you to waiver. Evidently, you’re not interested in backing down or waving a white flag because the expression on your face doesn’t even flinch. Unfortunately for you, neither is he. 
“Had plenty of opportunity t’speak up,” and his face is so close you can almost smell the remnants of wine on his breath, “but y’decided t’cause a scene, right? Had t’do it for an audience, give ‘em a show.” 
“Fuck you Harry, seriously,” and there it is, now he’s got you riled up, “I didn’t wait for your birthday dinner to drop the pregnancy bomb and unload our marital bullshit.” 
A brief puzzled expression flickers on his face. What about this pregnancy was unwanted? You take notice, though it’s brief, that he really does appear to be confused by that remark. But he reminds himself that he’s mad and has to channel that back. 
“Wanted t’embarass me f’something, than?” he asks, voice lower than before but still louder than you’d like, “What’d I fucking do tha’ was so awful you would keep a secret like this from me? Y’should’ve told me.” 
Honestly, you have to blink a few times to keep from crying. This is definitely not how you wanted to tell him you’re working on your family of three becoming a family of four. And past all that anger is an abundance of pain; you can see it just from the look in his eye. He’s angry you embarrassed him but he’s devastated you didn't allow him the privilege of being the first to know. 
“What did you do?” 
You repeat his own words back to him slowly, as though you can’t even begin to understand why he’d ask something that stupid. All he does is stare, maybe blinks once or twice. He doesn't say anything though; just waits for you to spit it out and give him a reason. You owe him at least that much. 
“Oh, yikes one is enough mum,” you pull a face mockingly as you do a shit job at mimicking his accent, “another baby is years off, right babe? Right love?” 
“(Y/N) I didn’t-”
“All that ‘two under two sounds so bloody fucking awful’ bullshit tonight” you drudge on and, God, that accent is so bad, “and you wanted me to tell you? You’re shocked that I didn’t jump up and down with a positive Clear Blue test and ask you for name suggestions?” 
The tension in his body starts to settle a bit before he can completely relax his shoulders, dropping them in total defeat. If you wanted to make him feel terrible you did an absolute stand up job. The guilt that’s starting to swallow him up is all-consuming, especially because he can see tears start to pool at your water line. Truly he had no idea. You know he just runs his mouth sometimes. He talks just to talk and he’s not fully aware of the capacity of what he’s saying. He’s always been so comfortable around you where he’s never felt the need to filter every thought. Clearly he should start. 
He completely comes off the defensive when he lifts his arm and extends his hand out a little, using his thumb to wipe away a spilled tear. With that he feels you start to soften a bit as well, relaxing your body and letting any renewing tension go with an extended exhale. 
“Hate seeing y’cry,” he pouts, “Especially if it’s ‘cos o’me.” 
You sniffle, “Then don’t be a dick.”
“Christ, would y’let me apologize, please?” His smirk makes a more prominent indent when he evokes a defeated chuckle from you, “M’so sorry, baby love. Just wanted t’keep mum off our backs ‘n thought we had time t’plan it all out.”
He feels like his apology isn’t really good enough. The guilt is so obscure he can’t even articulate how badly he feels. Truly the last thing he’d ever want is to create an environment where you felt like you couldn’t tell him anything. Which seems to be the exact thing he managed to do here. He wants to undo it so badly. 
“But this,” he hums, crouching down until he’s eye level at your stomach hand his palm is flat on top of it, “this is amazing, yeah? Angel baby - a big sister, s’amazing.”
Your tone is cautious, but you peer down at him as he glances up at you, “So you’re not.. upset.. about another baby?”
“Upset?” His exclaim is playful as he stands back up, hands rubbing your shoulders and then your arms, “M’thrilled, button. S’like our rainbow baby. But oi, next time tell me first, yeah? Makes me feel cool t’ know stuff before everyone else.” 
He’s so relieved to hear you laugh; even more relieved when you pout your lips out to ask for a kiss. To which, he happily obliges before smashing them with a slew of kisses. And as a way to settle the score, he wants to be the one to tell Angel Baby. 
“We gotta celebrate the right way,” you hum in turn, “but you pick! However you want. It’s my apology to you.” 
“Sex,” he breathes out in such relief and desperation you almost audibly snort, “my God, so much sex.”
518 notes · View notes
loversipod · 2 months
Shy Lover
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Summary: Harry is the shy boy in school and y/n boyfriend. She gets to know him over the months and see him growing comfortable around her. So comfortable that he’s ready to make love to her for the first time.
Pairing: shy boyfriend!harry x fem!reader
Wordcount: 3,3k
Trigger warnings: soft dom, use of pet names, light teasing, begging, choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, mention of handjob, hair pulling, short mention of scars, protective sex, aftercare
A/N: I don’t write much smut, so it isn’t my best, but it’s soft and caring. Please give me some feedback I appreciate it s lot :) I kinda wanna write more about them
For three months she has been Harry y/n boyfriend. She loves to hang out with him. They always study together at her house or they go on walks.
Y/n noticed how shy he is. When they go out to eat dinner he asks if y/n can order for him. Of course, she says yes. She doesn’t want him to get too nervous around strangers. If he does he picks on his painted fingernails. He’s a good boyfriend, the best she ever had.
Harry hides his hands in the sleeves of his oversized sweaters. That’s one thing she loves about her lover.
Y/n liked him for over two years and finally took the courage to ask him out. She noticed over the two years how he blushed when he talked to his friends about something and often he looked at her. When she was with her ex boyfriend he looked sad and his friends tried to cheer him up all the time. He watched her a lot when she was with his ex lover. He couldn’t help it but always had his eyes on her no matter what.
Harry thought y/n is the most beautiful girl in school. She’s smart, soft, beautiful and so talented. She’s good in art class. He loves her sundresses and her big sweaters. He wants to steal one from her.
There is no reason not to have a crush on her.
"H can I braid your hair?" She asks sweetly. Her eyes scan his face and she sees how his cheeks grew red. It’s adorable to see him like this.
"Y-you want to?" He asks her back in a whisper.
"Mhm, you hide that face too often," and before he knew it his whole face was red. "May I?" She pressed her nose in his temple. He nods. She pulls his grey hood down and can’t help it, but look into his forest green eyes.
Y/n wanted to open his grey cardigan. He laid his hand on y/n. "’M only wearing a shirt, I’ll get cold." His voice comes out in a whisper.
"Okay," she kisses his hot cheek. Y/n love doing his hair. When he allows her girlfriend, she makes her boyfriend some pigtails or braids them. Sometimes she uses just some colourful hair clips. On other days he asks for buns with those colourful hair clips. Sometimes the shy boy asks her to make him some pig tails as well. Harry likes them a lot.
He’s too shy to talk to her on some days, that’s the reason why she always plays music. Y/n parents even talked to her about it and told her to have safe sex. Always use protection and that she doesn't have to do anything that makes her uncomfortable or don’t want to do.
After four months of being Harry’s girlfriend he opens up more. He’s still shy, but it gets better. He kiss y/n soft hair that smells like flowers. He loves smelling her hair or just watching her doing her make-up. He sometimes asks if he can curl her hair and of course she says yes. Harry loves helping her.
Harry brought his girl home one time to show her where her boyfriend lives. "Mom isn’t home don’t worry," he says walking into the kitchen. "Food?" He asks simple, still nervous.
"A yogurt, if I’m allowed to," he nods, taking the yogurt out of the fridge and a spoon with him upstairs.
She looks around watching him change out of his sweater into a long arm shirt. It’s the first time y/n sees how he’s looking under his long clothes. Y/n never really thought about how he looks under his big clothes, maybe a little belly that would be cute. But she never thought he had a trained back.
Y/n unlocked her phone and started to scroll on instagram she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable by looking. "Are ya still hungry?" Harry turns around and looks up at him and shakes her head.
In school her lover let y/n eat with his friends just for a few days in the week. It makes him really nervous. She sat there and ate with them. Harry picked again on his fingernails, "you don’t have to be nervous," she whispers in his ear before kissing him on his cheek. He gives her a simple smile and tangles their fingers.
Harry’s hugs are big, warm and comfortable. He was so shy, but grew more comfortable around her and touched her. He wanted to share physical touch with her. Harry hugs her now, touches her arms sometimes or kisses her face. Or talks a lot more than she was used to.
Today is a day where her boyfriend wants her to stay at his house. His sister is at home and Harry had to introduce y/n to Gemma. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you. Harry mentioned you a lot." He turns shy, again. Gemma hugged her, they talked a lot. The prince stood by the two girls and held y/n hand patiently. Waiting for y/n to come to his room.
When they went into Harry's room he put some music on and asked y/n for pigtails. She did not put two strands in the braids, because it looks cuter.
H almost dropped his phone, when she pressed her soft lips against the delicate skin of his neck. Harry never admitted it, but he loves tiny neck kisses; it was the tingles that ran down his spine. He loved the intimacy of it. A little moan escaped his soft lips.
She was bold for the first time in their relationship. "S-sorry," she whispers and hides in his neck.
Something snapped in Harry’s head. He doesn’t know she feels that way about him. "Don’t hide from me, pretty girl," he turns his body to her. Harry can see how red her cheeks are. Now she knows how he feels around her.
He puts his hand under your chin and gently till’s her head up. "Hi," she smiles.
"Hi," he kisses her forehead. It's strange for her how gentle he holds her face in his big hands. Her eyes are big and glassy. Even with his pig tails he looks dominant. He freed his hair out of the hair ties.
He wraps his fingers with his rings around her throat and squeezes her sides with light pressure. She curls her fingers around his wrist. No one ever choked her. It's new, but it sends a rush through her body. His grip around her throat gets tighter. She can see the pleasure in his eyes just from choking her.
It’s strange to see his dominant side.
"H-harry?" He loses his grip around her throat. He smirks, he grabs her face between his palms to bring her down to his lips, he kisses her softly for the first time. She’s scared to touch him at the moment. The kiss feels so good, but she’s not sure if it’s okay to touch him now.
"Love?" Harry asks.
"Mhm," he chuckles.
"Can I touch you?" His voice is confident. H’s warm hands are smoothing over her hips. She swallows hard, "it’s okay if you don’t want to," he leans in for a second kiss.
"Do you actually like me?" She asks unsure.
"I can’t stop thinking about you for more than two years. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. You’re the best that ever happened to me. You help me a lot. I can’t lose you. I need you in my life. I told my mom about you before we even dated." She hugs him tightly, her eyes are teary. He rubs her back.
"You can," she said quietly, "I‘ve done it only once." She’s insecure about it for no reason. She knows he had more girlfriends in the past so he’s more experienced then her. One of his exes is y/n old friend. She was toxic. Y/n was happy to finally leave her behind. She told her how good he is and what they did even though she knew y/n likes him a lot at that time.
"No sex until you are 100 percent sure," he kisses her temple short. But there is another reason why she feels so insecure about it. "There is still something wrong," he murmured. "What is it?"
Her eyes closed, "you were with Lana and she told me so much stuff, what you did to her." Harry softly kissed her forehead, he stroked her knuckles.
"She was my girlfriend, but I never was intimate with her." Y/n eyes open again. Before her, he wasn’t shy. Maybe she used him, there was a rumour that he has scars on his body. She did something to him. She was never really in love with him. After she left him he was shy and insecure. Her boy won’t be the same. She did something he will never be the same.
She changed him.
"Can we wait a little longer?” He nods short.
Y/n found out after six months that her boyfriend is shy, but loves to take control in the bedroom.
He often finds an excuse why he needs to see her. Is it for homework or a project he wants to help her mostly it ends in a make out session. All he wants is to taste her lips.
He’s adorable.
H is still so shy around her, but he takes control over her, it makes her feel things. She never thought he could be like this. Not the shy boy.
She loves that about him.
Harry takes y/n out to picnic dates, in the summertime. He surprised her with a lot of dates in the past three weeks. They go book shopping or just go for a walk in the park and feed the ducks.
Harry invited y/n over, he’s alone at home for the next couple of days and he wanted to spend some time with her.
Y/n laid on his bed, he watched the pattern’s of her breathing. He tells her things she never heard before. He asked questions to the ceiling and never knew what she was thinking.
But she liked it, he liked her. He thought a lot about it. He laid his hand on her soft skin and started to stroke her inner thigh, teasingly. He saw how y/n breathing picked up. Her gaze stays on the ceiling above her. His fingers outlined her panties.
Harry loves it when it’s summer and y/n wears skirts and her pretty sundresses. Barney Stinson said it’s never too late to wear sundresses.
"Harry," she whines. His lips leave only a chuckle. It’s mean to tease her, but she looks so cute when she squirms under his touch. He can’t help it.
"Mhm, want me to touch you? Eating you out? You would like that, wouldn’t you?" She nods eagerly. "Words, bunny," he orders.
"Please touch me, need your mouth, please," a smirk grows on his lips. He hooks his fingers in her underwear and pulls her white lace panties down and puts them in his jeans pocket.
He settles his body between her legs and presses some light kisses against her skin. His fingers pull her sundress up to her belly. His plump lips suck eagerly purple bruises into her skin. Y/n reached her hand down to tangle her fingers in between his ringlet’s, "so impatient," he shakes his head and leaves a hickey on her hip bone. His tongue starts with slow board licks, y/n tugs on his hair.
"More please," she whines out. He flicks his tongue skillfully over her clit. She remembers that Harry told her to say what she wants. "C-can you maybe—" she got cut off by a moan.
He lifts his head up, "what do you want to tell me," he teased her by kissing, licking and biting her spread thigh.
"Can y-you maybe, um, suck a-and glide up," Harry nods and hums short. He brings his mouth back down to kiss her clit. The vibrations from the hum shoot through her, with the action she asked for making her eyes roll back in pleasure.
He repeated these actions using the tip of his tongue to play with her clit. All her soft whimpers and moans were music to his ears. He pulled her hips closer to his mouth. One of y/n boyfriend's hands slides down from her soft inner thigh to insert two fingers into her pulsing heat. She immediately clenched down on him. "You taste amazing," he murmurs between each stroke.
Y/n can feel how Harry brings her closer to her climax. "F-fuck…" she whimpers into the air. Her grip on his hair gets stronger, she earns a moan from him. Her legs tighten around his head. "I’m— I’m gonna—" a whiny moan comes over her dedicated lips
"Cum for me, bunny," he said out loud. Some seconds later her mouth leaves pornographic sounds. Y/n eyes are pinched and her mouth hangs open. "Good girl," Harry’s favourite sight. "You okay?" She nods. Harry kissed her hard and shoved his tongue in her mouth to let her taste herself.
“Thank you,” she pulls him down on his neck and keeps him close to her body.
“Can I– can I fuck you?” His voice comes out in a whisper.
“Please,” he opened a brown drawer from his nightstand to look for a condom. Y/n lunches inside, she sees some condoms, lube, tissues and chocolate. “Why chocolate?” She giggled.
“’M hungry after, uh, t–touching myself and too lazy to get something,” his whole face turned red and his voice broke at the end of his sentence. If she asks him, if it’s her she thinks about while doing it, he couldn’t answer her. It's too embarrassing for him. He’ll always be the shy boy around her. Obviously it gets better, but there is a part he always stays like this.
“It’s just me,” she spoke softly to him, kissing his cheeks and seeing some of her juices drip down his chin. “No reason to be nervous, you did amazing.”
“Can I stay dressed? I take off m’jeans and boxers, but not more.” He sounds really insecure, y/n don’t want to ask what it is. Why does he feel like this? She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Of course she accepts him for who he is. She’s in love with him.
She’ll ask him what he has to hide and why he always wears big clothes at some point.
“Can I help?” He murmurs a quiet “yes” She sits up and fumbles with his belt when she finally undid it, he stands up from his bed and pulls his light blue wide jeans down. Her eyes scan his lower half. A long shirt covers his thighs a bit up. It looks out from under his sweater. “You are so pretty,” a shy smile formed on his swollen lips. H, crawled back between y/n legs.
He lets the loose straps from her dress fall down, “no bra, y’know my birthday isn’t anytime soon.” He smirks at chest. He had an obsession with her boobs. He often just grabs them or hides every bra she left at his house, so she never puts one on and Harry just stares at her chest with a shirt on. He loves them.
Y/n dress hung in her middle, Harry’s boxers lay with his jeans on the clean floor. Y/n gave him a lot of handjobs. But they are both horny teenagers. Knowing he will be inside her is intimidating for her. He’s not small.
He tugs a few times on his cock. “You sure about it?” She whispers a “yes” and takes his soft hand in hers. Y/n have seen him a few times but only a amount of times she can count it on her two hands. He opens the condom and rolls it carefully up. Y/n watched him, his pink tongue always pokes out when he concentrates. “We can stop whenever you want,” he pressed a kiss on her forehead. He grabs the bottle of lube, puts some on his hand and spreads it on the condom.
Her lover noticed how her face scrunched up in pain and he stopped. "Bunny? You alright? Do you want to stop?" He whispers in worry, stroking her cheek softly.
“No you’re just massive.”
“Oh bunny, you never had a cock this big?” She shakes her head, “’M sorry that it hurts.” He pouts and tangles their fingers. “I know you can be a good girl and take it.” His thrusts are slow and gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He wraps her legs around his waist. His shirt and sweater are ridged up. She looks at his beautiful, soft and innocent skin.
The sunlight was bleeding through his curtains. Some whines and moans escaped both of their lips. He kept the pace filling her up to the brim, pleasure filled both of their systems. Harry peppers kisses around her chest, kitten licks her breast. He teasingly took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked lightly. Each time he did that she moaned. “You are so handsome,” her fingers go through his damp hair.
She wraps her legs tighter around his waist and pulls him in deeper with a soft moan. “You are doing great, angel.” His hand holding her face tilted her up with tenderness, kissing her swollen lips as he ground his hips deeper into her due the new angle.
She stroked his cheekbone, her orgasm came over her. She whines and moans into his mouth and Harry is close too. He can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting. Two more thrusts and he shoots his load into the condom. His head drops to y/n shoulder as he rides his orgasm out.
He stayed for a short moment inside her, “Aww, did I wear you out, love?” She nods lightly and covers her chest up, he then pulls out of her. He throws the condom into the bin and returns with a warm washcloth and wipes the mess between her legs, clean.
Harry helps her to put on some of his boxers and slides the dress down from her middle. He puts a shirt over her body, “I am officially obsessed with your body.” She hasn't seen his body completely yet but she knows it makes him feel good about himself.
“Hungry?” He asks her while pressing soft kisses against her forehead and cheeks.
“Can we eat some chicken nuggets?” She kisses all over his face, brings him down on his neck holding him close. Y/n don’t want him to leave her for bringing food. She knows it’s important for him to take proper care of her.
“I must say I’m the slightest bit offended that we just had the hottest sex ever and you’re thinking about chicken nuggets,” he chuckles and sees the biggest smile on her plump ips. He went downstairs, put some dinosaur nuggets into the oven. When he comes back he sees y/n snuggled up in his bed with his teddy in her arms. “Love, I have your nuggets,” she opens her eyes, lazily grabs the water glass and drinks it. She eats a nugget. Harry ate some as well.
She kisses his chest and murmurs, "you are the best boyfriend ever,” before drifting off to sleep in his arms.
He whispers in her hair, “I love you,” but she didn’t hear it. She’s asleep. “You’re the best that ever happened to me.” He pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her forehead one last time before he falls asleep as well.
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moonchildstyles · 1 month
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y/n is a cupid and harry might be her soulmate. if that's even possible anyway.
wordcount: 3.5k+
"Excuse me? Are y'okay?" 
(Y/N) froze at the sound of an accented voice speaking from behind her. She could feel eyes on her back, spying the shimmer covered skin left bare from the draping of the tulle-esque cloud weaved fabric that made her dress. He wasn't supposed to be able to see her. 
"You... You can see me?" When did her voice get so breathless? (Y/N) didn't dare to turn around just yet. Maybe, this man was talking to someone else. 
A beat passed.
"Yes?" his tentative response came, sounding more like a question than a definitive statement. "I-I just want to know if you're alright. It's a little cold out, so..." 
Was it? (Y/N) didn't really notice things like that any more, temperature and changes in the weather. It all felt the same to her at this point. The goosebumps rising on her skin were a new reaction. 
Turning on her heel, her bare feet left a divot in the snow beneath them. That's never happened before. Facing whoever it was that caught her, (Y/N) felt her voice freeze like the air around her that she was beginning to become conscious of. 
He was pretty. Very pretty.
Split down the middle, his hair fell in brown curls with blonde speckles touching at his temples from time in the sun. She wished she could tell the shade of his eyes, but the way he was backlit by his porch light kept her from seeing that detail. Instead she was left with the impression of a pair of big eyes, squinting to see her to see her through the space. Pillow lips, a pretty shade of pink that was muted through the lack of light, were pursed as he looked at her, concern tugging at the corners. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and decorated his otherwise clear, slightly tanned skin. 
No one had ever been able to see her before, but she figured she was at least a little lucky that the first one who did was someone as pretty as him. But, that might have just been the romantic in her talking. 
This man responded to her silence by talking a careful step over the threshold of his door, creaking floorboards groaning under his feet as he walked over his porch. A hand lingered on the knob to the door, not allowing it to swing completely shut after him. 
"Can I call someone for you? I know Jack's parties get a little out of hand sometimes, so if you need to wait for someone to drive y'home or need to call an Uber, I can help." This man spoke to her as if she were a wounded animal: careful and delicately. 
While she'd never really been able to garner a lot of reaction to her appearance given the fact she was supposed to be invisible, she didn't think she looked particularly creatureish. At least not enough to be taken for a limping dog. Maybe she wasn't so lucky to be seen by someone as pretty as him. 
Her silence stretched on, prompting him to take another step towards her. The door behind him shuttered closed, leaving him out in the cold with her despite the fact she didn't think she could feel it as intensely as he did. "At least let me grab you a jacket, or-or some shoes if you want to walk. I don't know how you've made it this far out anyway, Jack's property is miles down the road," he continued, brows knotting together in the middle when he dragged his eyes over her bare legs. 
Jack, he mentioned again. Was that whoever was in charge of the party she had fluttered through before finding herself out here and seen by this man? She'd done her work there, bringing more than a few couples together before she flittered on her way. Valentine's day was busy enough as is, she couldn't linger longer than needed. Besides, that party was a lot more stressful and wild than she had any interest in hanging out at, even if no one would interact with her. That was where he thought she'd come from? 
Clouds had must have filled her head, and by the time they cleared out and she focused once more on the man, he was much closer than she remembered. Despite the stretch of yard still between them, his lessened proximity gave her a startle.
Green. His eyes were green. 
She could tell when he jumped back, eyes widening as his breathing stopped. 
It was (Y/N)'s turn to feel concern warp her heart. She couldn't help herself before she took a careful step towards him, reaching a hand out. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?" Noticing now, he didn't have shoes on either and the ground could be littered with anything that gave him a shock when he walked. 
"Th-Those are real?" he breathed out, pointing with a shaky finger. His pretty green eyes weren't even looking at her she realized. He was looking behind her. 
Right at the fluffy pair of wings peeking over the slopes of her shoulders, the feathers laying down now that the start he gave to her heart was settling. 
While she planned on trying to explain away what he saw (obviously, he'd thought she was in costume, like she'd seen on a few of the participants at Jack's party), especially with the way he'd gone pale and his hand was shaking a lot more than she figured was safe, she didn't get very far before the sound of something skittering away behind her had her jumping in place. Turning to look at the field behind her, a white cottontail could be seen running to the cover of a shrub, prints left in the crunchy snow to account for the crackling sound that scared her out of her skin. It was an involuntary response, the way her wings fluttered behind her, feathers raised to ready her for flight in case of emergency. 
But that response seemed to be the last straw for her new friend as he dropped to the ground, eyes fluttering closed. 
Once getting him safe inside, draped across his couch with a roaring fire alive in the hearth, (Y/N) only felt a little guilty snooping around. When he didn't wake right away, she figured he might need a little bit of a nap, if only to get his blood pressure under control before she would be on her way and keep him from experiencing another panic. 
In his kitchen sat a plate of untouched food on the counter, a pair of slippers by the back door from where he had approached her, and a knocked over glass of water with droplets still dripping down the cabinets to the tiled floor. He dropped everything to help the girl he'd found wandering through his property it seemed. She must have really been an unusual sight for him to have forgone his own shoes. 
His home was cozy, she thought fondly, as she wandered down the hallways and traipsed up the stairs. The walls were lined with photos of her friend and two other women who both had similar dimples and sparkling eyes. Others included people who looked nothing like him, but he still held a happy grin on his face. Always his arms were draped around their shoulders, nails painted as he clutched them close in a pose for the camera. Books about fashion, philosophy, and happiness were littered throughout the home, occupying shelves and the space on his nightstand. His shoes were stuffed under the edge of his bed, his most favorite pair appearing to be a set of beat up white tennis shoes, threaded through with baby pink laces. The whole place smelled warm and sweet—lavender and spice, vanilla and cinnamon, and the underlying base of whatever it was she'd smelled when she had to lean him against her side as she lugged him into safety. That part must just be him, then. 
Seeing all of this made her feel even more guilty for spooking him so terribly. She hadn't meant to, of course—he wasn't even supposed to see her—but maybe she could have been a little bit more aware of her wings when she realized he had spotted her. Hopefully, he would be alright and take her ensuring his safety as her apology. 
Cupids had famously tender hearts, so she didn't know what she'd do if he held a grudge against her for this whole accident.
The least she could do was clean up some for him before he woke, she decided. That way, he might be able to convince himself it was nothing but a silly dream he had while waiting for his dinner to be ready. 
Fluttering with the tips of her toes dancing across the hardwood of his floor, (Y/N) made it to his kitchen. She made quiet work of cleaning up the cup and water marring his clean floor. The now chipped crystal of his glass caught the light from the dining room just perfectly, casting shimmering rainbows across the kitchen. Hopefully he wouldn't notice that too much. Rag in hand, (Y/N) dropped to her hands and knees to mop up the water spilled across the tiles, the hem of her short dress grazing the floor as she worked. 
Standing to her feet, damp rag in hand and a clean floor before her, (Y/N) felt the warmth of eyes on her back. Jeez, if this being seen thing was going to start to be a regular thing, she was going to have to be a little bit better about hiding. 
Turning on her toes like she'd seen a ceramic ballerina in a music box do once, she braced herself for a repeat of what happened in the yard. Maybe this time she could catch him. 
Behind her stood her new friend (no matter how much she searched around his house, she couldn't find anything with his name on it), eyes wide but decidedly much more color in his cheeks. 
"I thought you were a dream," was all that fell from his lips, voice graveled and quiet. 
(Y/N) watched him, hoping to catch the signs before he'd drop to the floor. "A-Are you going to faint again?" 
"I don't think so, but..." he trailed off, eyes never leaving the fluffs of wings over her shoulder. "What are you?" 
Twisting the damp rag in her hands, (Y/N) worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She'd never had to explain herself to anyone before. No one other than those like her had ever seen her before. 
"Do you know who Cupid is?" 
The man seemed to take her in slowly then. She was aware of the heat of his gaze as he skimmed over the breezy dress on her form, the sheen of shimmer that permanently covered her skin, and, of course, the wings pinned to her back. "Like the baby with the arrows?" 
A slight smile touched at the corners of (Y/N)'s lips. "Kind of. We're not really babies or have actual arrows, but close enough." 
A beat of silence filled the space between them, the plush green of his eyes keeping her attention as he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from her. 
"This isn't a joke, is it?" he murmured, finally landing on her face with his eyes softening. 
"No," was her simple answer, but (Y/N) had the feeling he wasn't listening. 
Looking at this man with pretty green eyes and sleep mussed curls crowning his head, she watched a look come across his face that she'd seen thousands of times before. Only it had never directed at her before. The softening of his jaw, the small parting of his lips, something just a hair behind his pupils turning into hearts as he looked at her. She'd seen all of those adjustments happen to those she helped fall in love with their right person; it was true love the first time they looked their beloved in the eyes. 
And he was looking at her. 
While arrows weren't the preferred method to infect someone with the love bug, there still was a process Cupids had to go through to ensure their target had those butterflies in their stomach and thoughts questioning if love at first sight really was possible. (Y/N)'s favorite was the deliberate touch of her fingertips over their heart to get it racing or purposeful flick of her wrist with a brush through their hair to get love on the brain, but she didn't do either of those things to her friend right? She had been very careful when carting him inside to not touch him too much where it could impair him, but it wasn't even possible for people to fall in love with her anyway. 
Cupids weren't meant to be the objects of love; they were only there bring those who were meant to be, together. Except for a single story she had heard a long time ago...
"I'm awake, right?" the man said, a dreamy cast over his gaze, "Y'promise this isn't a dream or a joke?" 
He thought she was a dream. (Y/N)'s heart stuttered at the thought. She'd never been someone's dream before. 
"You're awake, I promise," she smiled, nails digging into the rag as she tried to keep herself from reaching out to brush back the curl that flopped over his forehead. "Are you feeling okay? You fell kind of hard outside." 
"Yeah, yeah, 'm fine," he mumbled, shrugging off her questions as he took a careful step towards her, "You're really Cupid?"
"Kind of," she started, the volume of her voice matching his, "I'm a Cupid, but my name is (Y/N). What's your name?" 
"'M Harry," he rushed out, a dimpled smile perching itself on his lips as he allowed his gaze to take her in once more. 
The fact he wasn't running for the hills or reaching for a pitchfork or a straitjacket to tie her up in was a miracle in and of itself, (Y/N) thought. She never thought of such a lovely reaction to someone finding her out. No matter how lovely it was, though, it wasn't supposed to happen. No one was ever supposed to see her. 
Harry must have picked up on the direction her thoughts had taken as he reached a tentative hand out, soft fingertips brushing the back of her hand that was still worrying her cleaning rag. "Are you okay?" 
Swallowing, (Y/N) took a slow step back, her bare feet on the cold tile causing a shiver to rocket up her back. "You're not supposed to be able to see me. I don't know why you can." 
"Oh," he sounded, gaze dropping to the floor. "Do you think something's wrong? With me?" 
Her heart strings were pulled taut at the sound of his voice, dejection an undercurrent to his words. "No, no, there's nothing wrong with you," she rushed out, dropping the rag to take her turn reaching for him with a carful hand. Unlike her, he didn't hesitate to reciprocate her touch as he turned his palm towards her and curled his fingers around hers in a loose hold. Never had (Y/N) actually experienced the butterflies she induced in other people's stomachs or the rollercoaster drop feeling that surged through her veins. Not until now. 
She swallowed before speaking, forcing her eyes to fixate on their joined hands instead of his eyes so she didn't forget what she was saying. "I've just only ever heard of this happening once before for a Cupid, but I guess I didn't really believe the story until now." 
"What was the story?" he asked her, taking another calculated step towards her with his hand shifting to hold her own better, "Was it bad?" 
"No," she started, chancing a look up at him where he still looked like the star of a campaign for the validity of love at first sight. God, he really was so gorgeous. "It was about a Cupid, he—uh—he was working and suddenly there was someone who could see him. It turns out the man that could see him was the Cupid's soulmate. No one else in the world was supposed to see him except for this man because that was the only way he was going to fall in love like the Cupid was supposed to help him with." 
Harry's gaze never shifted from her as she spoke, only draping itself over her features to catch every flutter of her lashes and molding of her lips around her words. "Soulmate?" he uttered, the only thing falling from his tongue when his eyes refocused on hers. (Y/N) only hummed a confirmation in response, her voice a little stuck as she tried to keep from seeing just how many lashes he had bordering his eyes. "Is that what you think I am? Y-Your soulmate." 
(Y/N)'s wings fluffed out at the sound of his voice wrapping around the words your soulmate. If not for the fact she could feel the solid ground beneath her feet, she would have suspected she was flying with the way her heart soared. 
"Maybe," she peeped, feeling a warmth bubble under her skin when he squeezed at her hand in his, "Do you feel any different?" 
Those softened eyes met hers in a heartbeat, tearing away from her lips when he processed her question. "I feel everything," he told her in a rush, the words seemingly coming out before he knew he wanted them to, "Everything good. Is that normal?" 
"When someone falls in love, yes," she told him, voice small as if the truth would break everything if she uttered it too loudly.
The L-word sat between them in the silence of his kitchen while she gauged his reaction. (Y/N) watched as he shifted on his feet only to grow closer to her, his fingers lacing between hers in a proper hold, and his pulse thrummed at the base of his throat. He didn't resemble at all the pale man that had dropped to the ground in fright at finding out her wings were real. He looked like a man in love. 
"'M falling in love?" he rasped, his voice dropping with the way he'd grown close enough she had to crane her neck to look up at him, "With Cupid?" 
"Maybe." She'd correct him later that she was only a Cupid, not the Cupid, himself. 
"How will I know for sure?" This close, she could make out just how many tiny freckles dotted the strong line of his nose. Her favorite might be the one just off to the side of his mouth, though. 
"K-Kissing, usually makes it pretty clear." (Y/N)'s heart jumped to her throat when she uttered the K-word. 
He wouldn't actually kiss her, though, right? He didn't even know her, and these things typically took a bit longer than this. But, she guessed, she'd never really heard about what the effects of being in love with the embodiment of love could do to a person. 
"Kissing?" Harry mused under his breath, as if she weren't meant to hear him despite the proximity. The hand that had been hanging limply by his side carefully reached out and cupped the curve of her waist over the cloud-light dress that curled around her form. While it covered what it needed, (Y/N) could clearly feel the ridges and lines of his palm through the fabric, warm and soft as she tried not to hug him closer. Instead, (Y/N) settled with a gentle hand on his chest. She wondered if he could feel her warmth through his shirt. 
When Harry dipped his head down, his exhale sweeping across her skin, (Y/N) held her own breath. As much as she wanted to catalogue just what shade of pink his lips were tinted, how many lashes were fluttered around his eyes, and the gradient of the blonde hairs on his temples into the deep chocolate of his curls, there was nowhere else she could look but at his eyes. A spring day right in the middle of winter, that was the only description she could think of for the shade of his irises. The perfect green stems to blooming roses, wrapped up and gifted to a lover on Valentine's Day. 
"Kissing," she confirmed, answering the question she wasn't even sure he knew he was asking. 
That seemed to be all he needed to hear before he nudged his nose against hers, eyes fluttering closed. He paused a breath away from her lips, giving her an out if she wanted to step out of his hold. When she didn't make any more to push him away or back out of his warmth, Harry surged forward and closed the gap between their lips. 
(Y/N) had never been kissed before, but she had a feeling this was how it was supposed to be done. His lips were soft, softer than she could think of any rose petal ever being. He was careful as he slotted their lips together, lingering in an affectionate kiss against her top lip. It was innocent and slow, nothing like the kissing she'd seen at Jack's party a property over. This felt more akin to the kind of kiss she'd peeked on at weddings, or private moments between lovers who knew there was no one else out there but the one in their arms. 
True love's kiss.
Harry pulled away first, (Y/N) stopping herself from following after him as if she was the one that needed to confirm she was in love with Cupid. He didn't immediately open his eyes once he gained the space, leaving (Y/N) to gaze up at his lidded eyes with his pretty pink lips parted to let out an airy sigh. 
"Are you okay?" she broached after a beat, Harry's eyes still shuttered. 
A slow smile took over his mouth. Dimples thumbed themselves deep into his cheeks, the skin growing pink with a blush bubbling to the surface. He blinked his eyes open only for his smile to widen when he found hers.
"I think I'm in love." 
ahhh! this is super different for me!! ive never written something and posted same day along with no editing shfushfuhs an most of the time I don't really write my y/ns as the supernatural/fun characters so lots of nw things for me on this one!!! anyway im SO sorry for any mistakes nad thank you sm for reading! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!
1K notes · View notes
gucciwins · 2 months
worth the risk 
Y/N attends the Golden Globes and has lots of questions to answer
word count: 2738
a/n: hola amores!!!!! this series has been so much fun to write! happy reading. let me know what you want to see next :D
part one // part two 
“You know what to say when they ask,” Bee reminds you as you sit in your makeup chair, letting the glam team do their job. You’re going for an elegant but simple look that the cameras will be able to capture. You loved wearing bold red lipstick, but for tonight you were doing a pink shade, a touch darker than your natural lip color, to allow the jewelry you are wearing tonight to speak for you on the carpet.
“Yup,” you frown at the mirror where you can see Bee taping away on her iPhone. “I will tell them I let him take me to his house and have his way with me.”
“Y/N!” Bee hisses. “Be serious.”
You’re fed up with all this information for one meeting with Harry. It started as a date, but you doubt anything more will come of it now due to all this unnecessary drama. There hasn’t been a chance for you or Harry to talk about what you’re both looking for in a relationship or if you were interested in seeing each other again.
“Yes, I know.” You take a sip of your chamomile tea, trying to relax. “I’ll say we had coffee, and he’s even nicer in person.”
Bee sets her phone down, able to pick up on your bitterness. “If you had let me know you were going to meet him, we could have prevented this.”
You don’t regret meeting Harry because you got to spend a carefree afternoon with him. It did lead to unprecedented changes in your plans. You think back to sitting in an office instead of Harry’s house for dinner like you had planned.
The office was cold, and the tension in the room was high. Harry sat to your left, and Bee and Jeff, your managers in front of you, stern looks on both their faces. It reminded you of when your parents sat you down and gave you an hour lecture about sneaking out. The talk was so boring you never snuck out again.
“There are pap pics of you everywhere,” Jeff informs you.
It is evident to you where this conversation is headed.
You feel yourself shrink into your chair. This is not something you had planned. Neither did Harry. After your “date,” you planned to meet the following day at five pm, where Harry would have food waiting, and you’d arrive with store-bought wine. You were driving to his house when you got the call. Harry was quick to inform you he had an urgent meeting to attend, and you shared that you did as well. The dots clicked much faster than you liked.
Bee explained that there was no way to stop the photos from going out. This was simply a warning to them to prepare statements if necessary.
“We’ll cut Y/N’s trip short, get her back to America,” Bee tells Jeff as if you weren’t even there able to make a choice for yourself.
“Hey, I’m supposed to visit my sister and my nephew,” you argue.
Bee sighs, knowing you’re right. You haven’t been able to visit them, and it’s all you talked about on your flight. “Call her and ask her to see you tomorrow. You’re coming back in February.”
Bee dismissed your concerns, but you were thankful for the extra day. Jeff pulled out a tablet to show you the photos. There is nothing scandalous. It’s you and Harry facing each other with similar smiles. The last photo is the one that you know is the one that caused all this ruckus. Harry is photographed kissing your cheek. It’s friendly. Nothing to signify more happened or that it was a date. It was simply two friends getting coffee.
“Are you putting out a statement?” Harry asks.
“No, Harry. What for?” Jeff deadpans.
You see Harry frown, but he doesn’t fight his manager because this is Harry’s MO, ignore and move on. You’re not used to this. Sure, you’ve had articles written about you, but you have always been the sole focus, not you being linked to Harry Styles.
“Does Harry have anything to announce? Take away the focus from the photos when they drop.” Bee is always ten steps ahead, and here is another time.
“We have yet to announce his LA opening act,” Jeff offers. He looks towards Harry, who sits there pensive. Harry looks like he would rather be anywhere else than here.
“Wet Leg would be a good distraction,” Harry tells Jeff shrugging as if he’s used to all this fuss.
You were taking this too personally. Harry didn't owe you anything. He didn’t have to say he was simply having coffee with a friend. You were not allowed to say a word because you were insignificant compared to Harry’s world and fame.  
It did not feel nice, and you were ready to return to your hotel.
“Y/N has the Golden Globes press in a few days. We’ll officially blacklist his name.”
You sit there, letting Bee take control of your life. You had forgotten this part of fame. You knew it was too soon for you and Harry to be protecting each other. You went on one date. There was not enough time for feelings to grow, but you did wish things were different because you’re certain after today’s fiascos, you’d no longer be hearing from Harry.
Bee bid her goodbyes as she took a phone call, and you took that as your cue to leave. You wished both men well and hurried into the elevator, eager to get out of the building and hopefully never return.
“Y/N, wait.” A body slips through the elevator doors, and you’re startled to see Harry.
He has a shy look, and you know this is awful for both of you. You had been lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t see how this affected him or how often he must do this with his team to protect his image but mostly his privacy.  
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. You shake your head to stop him, but he keeps going. “You’re getting the brunt of everything being in interviews and red carpets while I can hide at home.”
He has a point.
“It’ll be fine,” you brush him off, pressing the first floor of the elevator. “Well, I hope,” you joke.
Harry clears his throat, “I was looking forward to this evening.”
You feel your face flush, not having expected to hear him say that. “Really?”
“Mhm…I-I really enjoy your company,’ he whispers in a low voice, careful to keep his focus on you.
You nod, “ditto.”
Harry hears the ding of the elevator, and as he waits for the doors to open, he does something that could get both of them into deeper water, but he doesn’t seem to care. “W-would you still want to come over?”
You turn to look at him, “didn’t we just get told not to see or speak about each other.”
Harry shrugs, “I was never one for following the rules.”
You sigh in disbelief.
“Plus,” he adds on. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them?”
At that moment, you decided that Harry was worth the risk.
Red carpets were overwhelming, and you were looking forward to reaching the end and allowing yourself to have endless drinks of champagne, but before all of that, there were interviews to get through. You were dressed in a glamorous black and white gown by Carolina Herrera with Tiffany & Co. jewels with Christian Louboutin heels. You were going for an old Hollywood look, and your team helped you deliver. Dani, your stylist, knew it would be a stunner on the carpet.
The carpet was full of artists you loved and admired. Your co-stars would stop you for a chat and have you pose for a few photos. It was the most fun complimenting others on their look of the night, but it was mostly amazing to talk about the shows and movies that were being honored tonight.
The first interview went smoothly. It was simple questions of who you were wearing and what was in your bag kind of interview. You knew if the others continued like this, you would be fine.  
Maeve, your wonderful assistant, you’d go as far as to call her a close friend now led you to the next interviewer. Reece was someone you immediately felt at ease with for some reason. You had heard about how they began their career on social media and grew it to what it was today, being able to interview on red carpets and work behind the scenes of different productions. He was courteous in greeting you and complimenting your outfit, and you did the same in return.
Reece smiled at the camera before turning his attention back to you. “Alright, I’m going to ask you Globe related questions.”
“Sounds perfect,” you place your hands over your stomach, making sure your shoulders are pushed back and that you’re camera ready even though you know the camera has been recording from the moment you made it to his side.
“Are there any shows or movies from this past year that were your favorites?” Reece asks.
“Besides my two shows,” you tease. “Abbot Elementary and The Bear were my standouts. For movies, it’s clearly Everything Everywhere All At Once and The Fabelmans,” you gush. The answer was one you did not have to think about. You’ve been doing your best to keep up with all the new movies and shows released last year.
“You have amazing taste,” Reece tells you. He continues on to the following questions. “Any world that has been in movies or shows in the past year that you would actually live to live in?”
You laugh, “too easy I would love to be neighbors with Selena Gomez, also known as Mabel in New York. I’d be such a big fan of the podcast.”
“That would be fun, even with all the murders,” he comments.
It’s easy to settle your nerves in front of a camera, but you’re itching to answer the last few questions. “Is there a favorite line reading you've loved?”
This one comes to you quickly. “Ah, it has to be Angela Bassett “I am Queen of the most powerful nation in the world! And my entire family is gone! Have I not given everything?””
Reece places a hand over his heart. “Hits too close to home. Thank you, Y/N.”
“Of course, Reece. Have a nice evening.”
He shakes your hand but holds it for a second. “Sorry, one last question, please.”
You decided to indulge him and gesture for him to go on.
“One last question then, favorite spiderman?”
You fake a gasp. “Stop, how dare you. I love all three of them. All are so special.” You mean honestly.  “But Andrew holds a special place in my heart. He’s my best friend. Sorry to Tommy and Tobie.” Andrew is someone you met during a film festival, and you instantly clicked. He’s that older brother you always wanted, and now he’s someone you go to when you need support when the industry can get too much.  
“Well, Y/N have a wonderful evening,” Reece bids you goodbye, and off you go.
“You too, Reece.” You mean it genuinely. “It was a pleasure speaking with you.”
Maeve assures you it went well and gestures for you to keep walking. You stop for more photos and are on your way to your next interview when you run into Jennifer Coolidge. She wraps you in a big hug and poses with you for everyone screaming her name. She sends you off with a kiss and a promise to see you inside. Tyler James William is someone you approach because you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t. You stand in the middle of the carpet, gushing over each other, and it isn’t until you’re both being ushered away that he promises to get in touch soon.
Jean Smart, your co-star in Hacks screams as soon as she sees you. Jean is your favorite person, and you’re quick to let her sweep you away. It’s easy to get lost in conversation, forgetting where you are, and she promises to see you inside soon, seeing as you’re seatmates. It’s an honor to be nominated for such a prestigious award, but you already know there is no award going home with you today, and that’s okay because your time will come.
You’re guided to one final interview with the one and only Amelia Dimz.
“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” She greets with a red carpet smile.
“Good, thank you very much.” You take a second to look her over, and you know you have to say something because she looks absolutely smashing. “Can I say you look stunning?”
Amelia laughs, slapping you, lighting with her cards. “Stop, or I’m going to have you take me on a date.”
You shrug, “I would not mind at all.”
“I have invited you to eat some chicken with me,” she tells you accusingly.
“Have received no such news. We’ll be in touch,” you promise, making sure to give Maeve a look to look into the chicken shop date for when you’re in London in February.  
“Alright, alright. What’s your dating advice for me?” Amelia asks, patiently waiting for your response.
You think it over for a second, look at the camera, then back to Amelia. “Date me,” you say with a smile.
“Oh,” Amelia blushes, losing her train of thought for a second.
“Back to your question,” you tell her, giving her a minute to compose herself. “Put yourself first. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
She thanked you, her cheeks flushed but continued on. “Do you have any fashion advice?”
You rock on your heels and shrug. “Be comfortable.”
“Right, thank you, Y/N.” She leans in to give you a hug. “One final question,” she whispers. She is giving you the option to say no.
You know what she wants to ask and fuck it, you find yourself nodding yes. Bee has always said she loves a good headline on nights like tonight.
“You were seen out getting coffee recently with a certain English man,” Amelia is careful not to mention his name, but everyone will be able to connect the dots rather quickly. “Do you consider coffee with someone a date, or is that too casual?”
You can answer this one of two ways. There is Bee’s answer where you’re vague, or you can do it your way and create a bit of fun for fans at home and yourself.
“Depends on the company, absolutely.” You share, you’re biting back a grin making sure not to look over at Maeve, who looks ready to drag you away. “If it’s an English man asking you for coffee, it’s absolutely a date.”
Amelia turns to the camera and shakes her head laughing. “Well, there you have it.”
You flash the camera with a big smile and wink. “Bye, Amelia, hope to see you soon.”
You breeze through the last bit of the carpet, waving at the final cameras as you reach the safe space where your every move is no longer being followed. Maeve grumbles how Bee will have both your heads, but you’re having too much fun to care. Maeve hands you your phone, telling you it has been buzzing for a while.
You ignore messages from Bee and your sister and go straight to the newest message from your contact, Harry, with a purple heart. He thought you should give him a fake name, but you’d never because you know your phone's privacy is entirely yours.
Harry 💜
You look gorgeous.
I’m really jealous of everyone seeing you in that dress in person.
I hope you enjoy your night.
I know you must be getting date offers left and right please reject them.
I’ll be in LA in a few weeks.
Dinner and wine at my house when I arrive?
You laugh because Harry is smooth. After dinner at his house, you both decided to take back a bit of control in your life and would continue to see each other behind closed doors. This was just Harry confirming the plans you had set in London.
It’s a date.
Not all secrets were bad, especially ones that were as pretty as Harry.
794 notes · View notes
narrycherries · 2 months
🌼like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do🌼 part 2 (dadrry)
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Harry tries his best to keep her calm at the studio, but something seems wrong with the baby..
masterlist 🌼 part 1 🌼 join the taglist
word count: 4.3k
warning/tags: dadrry, fluff, breastfeeding
A chuckle fell from Harry’s lips as he squatted down to the blanket spread out in the floor. The baby was casually eating Cheerios from a small bowl with one hand, while the other clutched a yellow rubber duck. She was given a quick bath this morning after having a diaper mishap, and she just wouldn’t let the duck leave her sight. You were sitting near her, your back agonist the couch as you kept a close eye on her. The studio floor was clean and there was nothing noticeable that she could grab to put in her mouth, but you still watched her every move. Harry was taking a break from working on a song with Mitch, they happened to be the only two in the studio today. Your baby was wary of strangers and being in a room with a lot of people, so it was a relief to know you wouldn’t have to worry about her becoming anxious. She recognized Mitch enough to ignore him.
“Are those yummy, my love?” He asked with a smile as she extended her hand, her fingertips pinching a cheerio to show him. “Thank you, darling.” He laughed to himself as he took the Cheerio from her and popped it in his mouth.
Her attention shifted back to the rubber duck in her hand. She switched it to the other hand, watching herself move the toy in the air. He admired the way she explored her own little world, it was a sight to see. Harry pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before standing up and walking to the couch. He sat down, his hand gently touching the back of your head.
“Bored to death yet?”
You smiled, leaning your head back to look at him. “No, we’ve been listening to you. Every time you would say baby she’d look around for you.”
He had been going over a song in the singing booth with Mitch, just tossing out verses and trying to arrange the lines how he liked. He had left the door open so that you weren’t completely shut off from him, but he was far enough away to work without being distracted by the baby. She had been content the entire time, playing with her toys and eating her snack.
“That’s cus she’s wondering why Dada is calling someone else his baby, yeah?” Harry said with a grin as her head snapped up from where she had been staring at the duck, her eyes instantly finding him. “That’s my sweet baby, isn’t it?”
She gave him a happy squeal and started shaking the duck in the air, babbling to him. He gave her a nod and a few words of encouragement, always happy to listen to her ramble noises out. You closed the book you had been skimming over after marking the page and sat it down on the floor. You climbed onto the couch next to him, slipping your arm around his neck and pecking his cheek.
“Just a couple more hours.. I just ordered dinner for us.” He said with a sigh, looking over at you with lustful eyes. “We’re definitely going to have some Mommy-Daddy time when we get home.”
You laughed softly, looking at the baby who was still sitting on the floor playing and keeping herself occupied. “Then you better hope someone goes down easily.”
“Uncle Mitch could keep her for the night.” Harry teased as Mitch walked in from the booth, sitting the notebook he had down on the table.
He scoffed. “Please. She’s a cute one, but she cries way too much.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “She only cried that time because she hates being away from us.. or maybe she just doesn’t like you all that much.”
“Hey, if you’d stop spoiling her she’d be willing to stay with us.”
Harry shook his head. “She isn’t spoiled.”
You let out a laugh and patted his stomach. “You’ve spoiled her rotten, honey.”
He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “She’s my baby.. of course m’gonna spoil her.”
“Has she said Dada yet?” Mitch asked with a smirk, he knew how irritated that made Harry.
“Not yet. She’s working on it though.” You said with a smile, pressing another kiss to Harry’s jaw. “Someone’s impatient.”
“How old is she?”
“She’ll be ten months next week.” Harry said, suddenly moving his eyes down to his lap where he picked at his thumbnail.
You noticed that he was downcast a bit, which was to be expected. Sometimes he handled the picking fine, and his friends didn’t bother him by what they said. But other times, it was hard for him to deal with everything. Why was it such a bad thing that he spoiled his baby girl? Isn’t that his job, to make sure she’s loved and has every little thing she desires? Of course, he knows Mitch wasn’t mocking him - but now the thought of her not saying his name was on his mind. He loved that little girl so much, and he was disappointed that she hadn’t said his name yet. He wasn’t disappointed in her, no - but in himself. Was he not trying hard enough? Was he not saying it enough around her and encouraging her like he had with Mama? He wasn’t sure of anything.
Mitch excused himself to take a phone call, leaving you alone with Harry. You sighed while raking your fingers through his messy hair.
“Do you want some baby snuggles?”
He smiled gently, shaking his head a little as he rested his hand on your leg. “Wan’ you for a bit.”
You faked a gasp. “Me? Why me?”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Always want you, sugar.”
You were aware that he was experiencing some feelings, so you gave his scalp a gentle scratch and just looked at the side of his face for a moment. He was watching the baby, who was still playing with the duck. She was dropping it in the bowl of Cheerios, then picking it up. She was entertaining himself and Harry just softly smiled as he watched.
“You’re a great daddy.” You whispered, flicking your eyes to the baby.
“M’okay, I guess.”
“You’re doing everything fine.. she’ll say your name when she’s ready.” You reminded him, again kissing his cheek.
He sighed, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “What if she doesn’t want to?”
“Babe, she’s got to learn how to make new sounds.. she can’t do it magically.“
Harry looked down at his thighs again, feeling a knot in his stomach. He feared he wasn’t doing something right. What if he was supposed to spend more time talking to her and repeating sounds? What if she was tired of him pestering her? He was in his head about it constantly, but right now everything seemed to stir up at once.
You took a deep breath and decided to move onto his lap. He welcomed you with a kiss to your lips, his arms going around you. Your fingers twisted in his hair, practically holding his head up.
“Please don’t be worried about this, Harry. She’s not even a year old yet.. she’s got plenty of time to learn.”
He huffed. “What if m’not teaching her enough? Like.. like saying it enough so she’s hearing it?”
“Honey, you’re doing everything right. We both say it all the time.. she knows who her Dada is.” You pressed your hand to his jaw, rubbing his skin softly with your thumb. “She’s just a little baby, yeah? She’s trying her best.”
He frowned. “I know she’s doing her best. She’s so smart.. i just.. m’not blaming her. It’s me.”
“It’s not you, babe.“
“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” He shook his head, trying to turn his head away but you didn’t let him.
“Please, baby. Please.”
You licked your lips, eyes staring into his. It was clear that he was bothered by everything, and he was silently pleading to move on. So, you opted to change the subject.
“Do you really want to have Mommy-Daddy time tonight?”
He smirked. “Of course.. I always want Mommy-Daddy time.”
You smiled back. “I know.. just can’t resist me, hm?”
He rolled his eyes, chuckling at you. “Can say the same about you, baby.”
“How’s the song going? It sounds really good.”
He pursed his lips. “I dunno. It’s alright, I guess.”
“I like it, someone else seemed to be intrigued by it.”
He smiled at the mention of the baby. “My two biggest fans, hm?”
“Don’t forget Mitch.” You laughed softly, making him grin.
“Ma ma ma ma.”
Harry grinned as the baby started to talk. You looked back at her and cheerfully gasped as you saw her looking your way. She had moved onto her hands and knees, gently rocking back and forth. She is still tackling the challenge of crawling, but she was getting much better. Sometimes she was scared, but she tried so hard.
“Look, Dada! We’re on the move.”
“C’mere, baby doll.” Harry said with a smile, excited to see her pick her hand up and move forward, one movement at time.
She looked down at the floor, moving her other hand along with her knee. She seemed interested in trying to crawl towards the couch, but she also appeared to be a little hesitant.
“You’re doing so well, my baby.” Harry said, grabbing her attention.
She looked up and gave him a big smile, squealing to herself as she started crawling a little faster. You got off Harry’s lap and squatted down on the floor, holding your hands out to her.
“You’re doing so good, baby girl!”
Harry couldn’t stop smiling as he watched her crawl the distance to you. She had her target, and it was you. She had the biggest grin on her face as she finally reached you, grabbing your thighs to push herself up. You picked her up and smushed a kiss to her cheek.
“Good job, darling!”
Harry gave her a happy smile as you sat down on the couch, placing her on your lap facing him.
“Dada loves you, baby girl. You’re the smartest girl in the whole world, yeah?”
She squealed and immediately leaned forward, reaching for him. He took her in his hands and stood her up on his lap. She began bouncing, her knees moving quickly as she started babbling, her fingers stuck in her mouth.
“Aw, poor thing.” He sighed as he saw how red her knees were from the crawling. “Should’ve put some pants on you.”
“She’ll be okay, Dada.” You reached over to rub your fingertips against her knees, making sure there were rashes forming or scratches on her skin. “Just a bit red.”
“Ma ma ma ma ma.”
Harry smiled. “Da da da da.”
She made a little squeak again, bouncing faster as she pulled her hand from her mouth, it was covered in drool.
“Da da da da.” He repeated, trying to encourage her.
“Ma ma ma.” She replied, reaching for Harry. “Babababa.”
“Yeah, you’re talking up a storm, sweet girl.” He said with a smile as he brought her to his chest, letting her grab his shoulder and fist her hand in his shirt. “Want loves, baby girl?”
She rested her forehead against his cheek, her wet hand grabbing his face. You laughed to yourself as he made a face at the drool being smeared on him.
“Who’s this, lovey? Is this Dada.” You said, tapping her arm to get her attention. She picked her head up and looked at you. “Is this your Dada?”
She looked back at Harry, grinning as big as she could. But she still didn’t give in to your efforts.
It had been half an hour since Mitch came back from his break and they started working again. You were sitting on the couch, somewhat occupied with a game on your phone while keeping an eye on the baby. She was laying in the floor, kicking her legs up in the air and playing with her own fingers. She had a couple of toys around her but she wasn’t interested. Harry hadn’t started singing yet, they were messing with some instruments and experimenting with sound.
But the second he started to sing, just practicing how the lyrics would sound, the baby snapped her eyes towards the room. You watched her roll over onto her belly and push herself up. You smiled as she froze, eyes staring at the doorway. Harry suddenly sang the word baby, which made her perk up even more. He stopped for a second, then re-sung the word. You chuckled softly as she started crawling towards the open door. He was trying out different notes, trying to determine which was the best. He started back over from the beginning when he found what he liked.
Watching the baby go straight towards him made your heart melt. She passed the doorframe, crawling as quick as she could. Harry suddenly stopped singing and you heard him laughing.
“Hi, baby girl.” He scooped her off the ground and cradled her like a newborn, making her grin and giggle at him. “Crashing our session, hm? You’re the cutest.”
“Maybe she can give us some backing vocals.” Mitch said, making Harry laugh.
“She’s better than you, eh?”
Despite knowing Harry adores the baby, you got up from the couch to go and get her. He needed to finish this stuff tonight, and she would only prolong the process. When you walked in, Harry gave you a smile and quickly kissed her forehead.
“Gotta sit with Mama for a bit, okay? Dada will come get you soon, baby.” He told her, kissing her cheek before handing her to you.
She whined, turning her head back to Harry, hands reaching out for him. You sighed, knowing this would probably lead to a breakdown.
“C’mon, sugar plum. We’ll go watch something on Mama’s phone.”
The second she realized Harry wasn’t going to get her, she started tearing up. Harry frowned, closing the small space you shared. He rested his hand on her back, his lips against her temple.
“Don’t be sad, my darling. Dada’s going to be done soon. I love you bunches, my little angel.”
You felt your heart drop as she started to cry, trying her best to fight your hold. Harry gave you an apologetic look and kissed her cheek again, making sure she felt his attention and affection.
“I’ll shut the door.” He mumbled to you.
“She’s probably hungry.. I’ll feed her.”
“Bottle or nurse her?”
You glanced at Mitch. “Bottle I guess.”
He sighed. “She gets sleepier when you nurse her.. I’ve got a blanket in there you can cover with.”
You gave him a nod. “Okay, love you. Don’t worry about her.”
“Love you, too.” He quickly kissed your lips and moved back to the baby, rubbing her back for a moment. “Be good for Mama.”
She was not happy about being taken out of the room, but you had to do it. You shut the door and let out a heavy sigh. At home, she usually doesn’t get like this. That’s probably because Harry is always around, and she’s never denied of him. This is partially why you didn’t want to come with him tonight.
You grabbed the blanket off the chair in the corner and went to the couch. You had her bag beside you as she sat in your lap, tears still streaming down her cheeks. You took out her favorite blanket and a burping cloth to put over your shoulder. Thankfully, you knew Mitch would be respectful when it came to you breastfeeding. He always asks Harry if you’re covered before he walks in a room or near you if you’re nursing. So, even though you had the blanket you figured you wouldn’t need it.
You sat the baby down on the floor to quickly unclasp your bra and slide it down. You laid it in her diaper bag and rolled up your shirt, making sure only one breast was exposed. You picked her back up and adjusted her so she could latch. Even though she was fussy, she was hungry and wanted to nurse. You exhaled as you relaxed against the arm of the couch, so glad she was easily satisfied. After about ten minutes, your phone buzzed beside you.
from Harry: how’s she doing?
to Harry: She’s better. she’ll be asleep soon
from Harry: good, I’ll be done in a little bit xx
You didn’t reply, instead you moved the baby to your other breast, knowing she needed to take a quick break. She whined, but latched on again. You nurses her until she had gotten enough. She was then laying in your arms, eyes slowly fluttering open to fight her sleep. This went on for a few minutes.
Everything was going smoothly, until Harry began to sing again. This got her attention right away. She was so close to being asleep, but of course something had to ruin that. You sighed as she wiggled around in your arms, trying to sit up. You placed her on your lap, facing the doorway. She was reaching out towards the door, knowing to person she wanted right now was in there. You rubbed her belly, trying to calm her as she whined.
“Daddy’s working, baby. You can’t be in there messing with him right now, sugarplum.” You pressed a kiss to her head, but she didn’t care.
She was not used to being deprived of him for so long, and having him pop in for only a few minutes at a time was torture to her. You shook your head in disbelief as she started to cry, tears flooding down her face as if she’d hurt herself bad. It was going to be difficult to get her to stop - especially without Harry’s assistance.
“Sweetie, please, calm down. Dada’s going to be out in a little while, then you can have him all to yourself.” Your words were not convincing in any way.
Before you could even take a break, she started to scream. It appeared like she was truly hurting or in immense distress, but you just couldn’t believe it. She’s never acted this way before. You started bouncing your thigh, hoping to soothe her but it didn’t work at all. You were worried that Harry would be upset if he got disturbed again, because he needed to finish this stuff tonight. He had no time to waste anymore.
Just as you were about to turn her around and hold her against your chest, the door opened and Harry rushed over to you, his brows dropped low and a worried expression over his face.
“What happened! Is she okay!” He said frantically, grabbing her from your lap without a second of hesitation.
You watched in disbelief as he pressed her against his chest, her head on his shoulder and started to sway from side to side, his big hand rubbing circles in her back. She was crying, but no longer screaming her lungs out.
“Did she fall? Did-did something happen?” He asked you, afraid to know the answer.
You sighed softly. “No, she just started.. screaming.”
“What?” He looked confused. He leaned his head to get a better look at her. Her face was red and her eyes were strained from the tears. “Baby girl, what’s the matter?”
The second she heard that word she perked up. Her head came up and she turned towards him, hands grabbing onto his neck and ear, wanting to keep him there forever. He frowned as he realized what was happening. He sat down beside you, sighing heavily. The baby was still against his chest, fingers digging into his skin.
“She heard you.. and went.. wild.” You said, patting his thigh.
He shook his head. “What’s gotten into her? She’s.. she’s not usually like this.”
“I guess she just misses her Daddy.”
Harry pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve been with her all afternoon. Maybe she’s in the clingy stage.. don’t they get one of those?”
You smiled, slipping your arm around his shoulders as you moved to sit on your legs. “She’s always going to be clingy, honey. I think she really just misses you. She was fine while she nursed.. was almost asleep.”
He pushed out a deep breath and looked at her cute face, always so in awe of the little human he made with you. His heart sparked as she gave him a pout of her lips, whining softly as she leaned her forehead against his cheek.
“My sweet girl.. y’know Dada has to work. If you be good for a little bitty bit longer, I promise I’ll cuddle you for hours tonight.”
His words did not matter to her. She let out a gentle grunt and fisted her hand in his shirt, holding on as if she knew he was about to leave her again.
“Honey, I dunno if she’ll be able to manage being away from you right now.” You admitted with a slight frown. “Do you have to finish the stuff tonight?”
“Yeah.. I’m on a tight schedule and today was the last day to work on this stuff.”
Harry’s eyes found yours for a moment and you gave him a smile, wishing you could fix it or make things easier. He lifted the corner of his mouth, not wanting to move from his seat at all.
“Do you think she’ll be good if she’s with you?” You ask in a soft voice, your thumb rubbing over the fabric of his pants.
He shifted his eyes back to her. She was sitting up now, hands messing with each other but she stared at Harry’s face, waiting for his attention.
“M’sure she would.” He said. “Do you care if I take her?”
You chuckled. “Not at all, babe.”
He took a deep breath and stood from the couch, securing his hold on the baby before moving.
“Well, I guess you can stay with me for a bit, bug.” He smiled, kissing her cheek a few times as he walked towards the door. “Dada’s almost done.”
“Ma ma ma.”
You smiled to yourself as you heard her. Harry sighed and gave her a laugh. He squatted down to grab the rubber duck from the floor so she can occupy her attention.
“Always Mama, hm?”
She took the duck from his hand and started gently hitting it against his neck. He grunted, trying to resist a smile but he just couldn’t. Everything she did amused and amazed him.
When he shut the door, you were unsure of what to expect. Usually, she’s a good baby and she doesn’t cause much chaos. This evening wasn’t too out of the ordinary. She loves Harry’s attention, so it didn’t surprise you that she was behaving that way. You hoped she’ll be good for him so he can finish quickly and you can go home.
“Our backup singer has returned.” Mitch said with a smile as he opened the notebook he had been holding and returned to the page of song lyrics. “Did she get hurt?”
“No, she’s just being a bit fussy.” Harry said just as she reached for his hair, tangling her fingers in it. “Maybe she’ll be good. No promises.”
Mitch was strumming a few chords on his guitar as Harry read over the spot they stopped on. He had jotted a few things down that he wanted to review before giving the verse another go. There was no serious recording going on, just messing around with lyrics and notes.
Things went well for about five whole minutes. The baby had been holding his hair in one hand and the duck in the other, her eyes peering down at the paper Harry was skimming his fingertip over. She wasn’t keen on the fact his hand wasn’t touching her. She whined a little, releasing his hair so she could grab his mouth. He smiled, shaking his head lightly as he tried to read. If he were at home, he would have no issue with this. But right now, he was trying to work.
“Honeybun, don’t pull Dada’s lip, yeah? Be sweet, please.” He said as he carefully grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm down.
When she whined louder than before, he looked at her to make sure she was okay. She seemed angry, her brows were dropped and her mouth was in a frown. He pressed a few kisses to her forehead.
“I thought you told Mama you’d be good, hm?”
Just as he was about to reward her with another peck, she began waving the duck in the air so hard that when she dropped it, it practically flew onto the floor. Harry gave her a concerned look.
“Angel, please, don’t throw him, yeah? Might hurt him.”
A whine left her mouth as he picked it up from the floor. He offered her the duck, but she slapped at his hand and turned her head away.
“Lovey, what’s the matter?” He mumbled to her, turning away from Mitch.
He looked over her face, trying to read her expression but she just seemed frustrated and bothered. There wasn’t any other obvious things going on.
“My precious baby.” He sighed softly. Her eyes moved to find his, tears swelling in them. “I wish you could tell Dada what’s going on.”
Her bottom lip rolled out as tears slipped down her cheeks. She wasn’t loud, though, not a sound coming from her. She just stared at him, eyes watered over and her lip shaking.
“Something’s wrong, innit?” He said in light voice, reaching up to wipe this thumb over her red cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby. I dunno what to do.”
Her head fell onto his shoulder, arms tucked by her sides. He held his hand against her back, and without saying a word, left the room once again. Your head lifted as you heard the door open. Your brows dropped the instant you saw them.
“What’s the matter?”
Harry looked defeated and somewhat afraid. “I.. I don’t know. I think something’s wrong..”
(a/n: I didn’t want this to be too long so I ended it here, do you want a part 3?)
[taglist: @theroosterswife24 @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harrystylesrealwifeong @fangirl125reader @luvonstyles]
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fetusharryluvr · 2 months
wedding planning gone wrong
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in which everything goes tits up, y/n is upset, and harry comforts her…
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4 months ago to the day, you became Harry’s fiancée. It was the best night of your life, so far. You still remember it as though it were yesterday. He whisked the both of you away to Italy for the weekend, a place you both loved with your whole hearts. Then, during a moonlit dinner in Rome, he went down in one knee, and of course you said ‘yes’ before he could even finish his sentence. It was perfect, just you, Harry, and the stars.
The two of you had been stuck in your own little husband-and-wife-to-be bubble ever since. One thing you and Harry never understood was how people could wait 2 or more years to get married. Your love for eachother was endless, you didn’t want to wait.
You began planning almost immediately. He adored seeing how happy and in your element you were. Most nights he would come home to you cozied up on the sofa with your laptop, asking him questions like “Magnolia or ivory centrepieces?”
Harry himself couldn’t tell the difference, but somehow he’d always give you the right answer.
Tonight was exactly the same. Or so Harry expected. “Hey, wifey. ‘M home.” He called out out as he locked the front door, a nickname he had given you from the moment you accepted his proposal.
He waltzed into the he living room with a wide smile on his face. It’d been a long day at the studio, and all he was looking forward to was cuddling up with you and hearing about what new ideas you had for the wedding.
Except, this time when he walked into the living room, he was greeted with the hushed sound of your crying. His face fell when he saw you curled up under a blanket with flushed cheeks, and your swollen, bloodshot eyes. “Love?” He cooed, immediately sitting down on the sofa beside you, taking your hands in his, “What’s the matter?”
“It’s all ruined, H.” You sniffled.
He didn’t understand. “What is? What’s ruined?”
You frowned. He brought his hand up to your face, ruining it along your cheek and pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “The wedding. I got a call from t’ venue this mornin’. They said there was a double booking and it turns out, the other couple have a famous photographer, so the hotel picked them over us ‘cause it’s ‘better publicity.’” Seeing how upset you were just made Harry even more sad. “An’ then I went back to the dress shop for a final fitting and when the lady was zippin’ it up, she ripped the dress. S’ now we’ve got no dress and no venue.”
Harry brought you closer to him, allowing you to sob into his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. It’s okay, we can fix this.” He hated to see you cry. He knew how much this meant to you, how excited you were. How you’d had your wedding all planned out since before you knew Harry even existed. He sighed into your hair, pulling away and holding your cheeks. “Y/N, love, look at me. I love you so fucking much. I would move heaven and earth for you, y’know that. I will try and fix this for us. And if I can’t, then I don’t care. I would marry you in our bedroom wearing your bloody pyjamas if it meant getting to spend the rest of my life with you.”
You felt yourself beginning to well up again as you stared at him, his hands warming up your cheeks, “Really?” You asked, unsure.
He looked back at you, speaking in a soft, sincere tone that told you all you needed to know. “Of course. We don’t need a big, fancy, expensive party to prove that we love eachother. I want a marriage, not a wedding. I just want you, and everything that comes with you.”
That. That was exactly why you wanted to marry Harry. He didn’t care for what other people thought, he loved you and that was all that mattered. And he was right, you didn’t need a huge, look-how-much-money-we-have wedding, all you needed was eachother.
That night, you spent it cuddled up on the couch, making love with your fiancé, watching your favourite romcoms, and googling the nearest registry offices. The planning may have gone tits up, but you and Harry were going to have the best wedding ever.
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