#harry styles album

[lilystyles]

style.

written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!

brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.

On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.

Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was. 

Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean? 

She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail. 

She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.

She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.

Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.

So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose. 

She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.

However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.

It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.

As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.

“Babe! Where are you two off to?” 

Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”

Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.

“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.

Paddy was his most recent fling. 

“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.

Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.

Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.

Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.

She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks. 

“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.

Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.

Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.

The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.

His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be. 

Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.

“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones. 

He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.

But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.

Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing. 

“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck. 

He had such an intense stare.

“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”

Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.

It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”

She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder. 

She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.

“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”

He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.

He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.

Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.

Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse. 

She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.

Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.

Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too. 

Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.

Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up. 

Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring. 

So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.

He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs. 

She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him. 

She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest. 

“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily. 

He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”

She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.

“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”

She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”

He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”

She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.

But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.

“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?

Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.

Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”

She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments. 

But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them. 

He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.

Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.

And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.

He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.

She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!

She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.

“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.

“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.

“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.

“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”

“We?”

She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”

“You love me?” He teased. 

She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.  

“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.

He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.

He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.

“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”

Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.

She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”

Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared. 

She could tell he was kind of speechless. 

“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack. 

“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.

“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.

She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.

“You know why too.”

She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.

“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.

She felt her heart rate speed up. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.

He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”

Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”

Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.

“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.

Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”

Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”

“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.

“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”

Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.

He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”

She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.

“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.

“It’s not,” She pouted. 

He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”

She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.

“I stole a lolly once.”

Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.

“Oh yeah? Anything else?”

She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal. 

“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.

Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.

“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”

Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.

Until. 

“What do you think about, Y/n?”

She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.

“A lot of filthy things, H.”

He bit his lip, “Like what?”

He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”

Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.

It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”

Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.

She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”

That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes. 

“Wanna be good?”

She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.

“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no? 

She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.

Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).

He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”

She couldn’t complain about that. 

As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.

In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.

“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head. 

“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.

“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”

She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”

He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”

She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”

He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry. 

He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back. 

He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.

After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.

The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.

He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips. 

He stopped to look at her. Really looking.

Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.

“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.

“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.

He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”

“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”

“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”

She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away. 

“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.

He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”

She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered. 

He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”

She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.

It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.

Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.

“You alright down there, Petal?”

She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy. 

And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper. 

His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him. 

“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him. 

“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.

She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.

She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch. 

“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.

“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.

His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.

“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”

She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”

He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.

Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.

She was just perfect.

He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her. 

“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”

She nodded. “Yes please.”

“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”

She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.

“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.

His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly. 

“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.

He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”

He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.

“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”

She nodded. “Mm.”

“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”

“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.

He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”

She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.

“So sensitive f’me.”

He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.

“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”

She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”

He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.

“Suck,” He told her.

She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.

“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet. 

She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.

“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.

When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.

“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.

He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”

She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.

“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him. 

Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”

He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”

He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.

But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.

Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”

It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.

He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”

He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.

Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”

He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”

God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.

She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.

“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked. 

And she nodded once more. 

“Tell me.” He told her.

“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.

“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”

That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper. 

As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.

He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out. 

“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.

He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder. 

“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.

She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”

Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.

“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.

He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.

He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire. 

“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.

“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words. 

“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back. 

He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm. 

“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!” 

He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.

It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before. 

She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that

“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.

And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”

Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head. 

He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.

“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven. 

“Please, what?” He asked sternly.

“Please, Daddy.”

He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.

“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.

With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.

“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.

Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”

“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him. 

“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips. 

Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.

“One sec, Love.”

She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.

He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”

She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much. 

“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked. 

She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”

He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”

“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her. 

He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.

“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”

She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.

He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her. 

Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”

She nodded. “Alright.”

When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.

“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too. 

“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”

“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.

“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”

He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”

She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”

He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”

She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”

He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”

She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”

He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”

She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully. 

“I like you too.”

This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”

“C’mere then,” 

She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.

The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”

“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary. 

He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”

“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her. 

“Kiss?”

She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep. 

When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.

Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.

“Want some pancakes, children?”

The pair nodded. 

Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?

When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.

Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.

“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?

She nodded. “Yeah,”

“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”

She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.

“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.

They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.

“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”

“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.

“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”

Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”

They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.

She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.

Harry Styles🍒

Can I come over tonight?

Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face. 

what on earth for mr. styles?

Harry Styles🍒

Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?

Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back. 

see u at eight

Harry Styles🍒

See you then Baby X

Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?

oh and bring snacks 

and that new film u were raving about to niall

Harry Styles🍒

Ok, done. See you tonight. XX

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.

‘💗💗’ She replied.

When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.

Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.

She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.

[avatar-anna]

Champagne Problems

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

Part Two

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nodding, you said, "Sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You? You would probably just wilt.

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

"What kind of dog?"

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

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

"And you named him Buddy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A party?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really? No one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See? That wasn't so hard!"

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've never been?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Finally?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/n?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

"See anything you like?"

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

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

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

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

"You decided, then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hayden: Seems fair.

Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hayden?"

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

"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucked in the head?"

"Larissa! Language!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's for my brother, slut."

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

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

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

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

"I think so."

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

"I should explain—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

"His family—"

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See you tomorrow!"

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lunch sounds perfect."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you working on over there?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Harry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What makes you say that?"

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

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

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

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

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

"When?"

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

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

"New Year's."

"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"

"At game night when he kissed your neck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

"You should come with me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W—What about Buddy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[septemberkisses]

Just stop your cryin', it'll be alright

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here

— Harry Styles from Sign of the Times

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 9 of Kinkmas: Hotel Sex With Harry Styles

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader

Warning: eating out, protected sex, hickeys

Y/N’s POV

All I see is flashing by cameras, all I hear is screaming by fans, and I feel someone holding my hand and taking me to a hotel. When I got in the hotel doors and try to get my vision back to normal to see Harry still holding my hand. I look back to see the fans screaming their heads off just because of us.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah I am, I’ve never seen that amount of flashing before including almost my ear drums getting destroyed because of the screaming.” I say looking at the crowd again.

“I deal with that every day.” He says.

I hug him, I feel so safe around him everywhere we go.

We get to the elevators and get into one and Harry presses our floor number. He holds me close and I wrap my arms around his body. Once again, I feel safe around him.

We get to our hotel room and then we get into the room and we begin to make out. We start to take our clothes off and we try to walk but still kissing each other. When we got to the bed, Harry and I fell on the bed together and Harry starts to kiss my body, I gasp and try to make myself comfortable on the bed, he starts to give me pecks, when he got to my face he licks the valley of my breasts. I fluff his hair until he goes back down to my inner thighs and then begins to eat me out.

After a while, we’re a moaning mess, him kissing my neck, me tugging on his hair, and him touching my waist. He grabs a condom, puts it on his dick and begins to make love to me, I moan in pleasure, I arch my back, I feel Harry’s arms holding me up so he can kiss my upper body while having sex with me.

I feel myself cumming on his dick which made me gasp, I can feel him groaning on my shoulder when he feels himself cumming as well. When we were done we Harry lays on me and I can feel him heavy breathing, I kiss his head and lay my head down on the pillow.

“That felt so nice Harry.” I say softly.

“We haven’t done this in a while Y/N/N.” He says still in his position.

“I know, but this time it was so good.” I said.

Harry looks up at me and says, “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too H.” I smile.

[watermelonsugacry]

Hey! Hope everything’s going good! Was thinking if bandmember did anything like the vanity fair Billie eilish videos when they watch back all those interviews. Would love to see how far our girl has come

YN YLN: Same Interview, The Sixth Year | Vanity Fair

A/N: Christmas break is coming up so been busy but I also have some stuff coming out soon for your lovies! 💚

SINCE 2010 masterlist

“Year six, baby,” YN smirks at the camera. “Alright—” She pulls on the tops of her pink sheer opera gloves that match her pink corset before clapping her hands together. “—Let’s do this. ‘Ello, m’name is YN YLN. Today’s date is October 18, 2022.”

How old are you?

“I’m 23 years old.”

“I’m 24.”

“25.”

“26.”

“27.”

“M’28 years old,” YN kisses her teeth. “M’pushing 30, mate.”

How many followers do you have on Instagram?

“I have 573K followers on Instagram.”

“8.7M.”

“60.9M.”

“94.8M.”

“106M.”

“I currently have 287 million followers on Instagram. Dunno why I have so many; I make a lot of shit posts.”

What is your most liked picture on Instagram?

2017:

“My most liked picture is one of me and the boys huddled up backstage after our last performance together with 654K likes.”

2019:

“It is a picture of me in my home recording studio with about 5 million likes.”

2022:

“It’s currently one of me photo dumps on tour. The first picture on that one is a selfie with Harry taking a bite out of m’cheek. This one has 60,036,819 likes. Which is way too many likes if m’being honest.”

How are you feeling today?

2022:

“M’feeling really good. I always look forward to these interviews. I try me best not to look at the old videos more than once so that I can best prepare meself for my current answers, yeh know? But I love that I get to do this every year. There’s a lot of like, time lapse compilation videos on meself on YouTube that show off how far I’ve come over the years but these I feel are the least cringy ones,” YN lets out a laugh.

Biggest thing to happen in your career?

2021:

“I won a Grammy for producer of the year?” YN furrows her eyebrows as she juts her chin out. “Wha’ is life? That’s insane. The highlight of me career. Hands down.”

2022:

“It’s still the highlight of me career. And I got nominated for it again for Grammys 2023. To even be nominated and be the only woman in this category a second year in a row is just super fookin’ wild. Um...I got seven other Grammy nominations for next year. I’m also on tour again—a world tour—and it’s definitely me favorite thing to do aside from making the actual music. Harry’s new album that we’ve been workin’ on for over the past two-ish years finally came out earlier this year. I’m dropping me third album before the year is up. So many good things have happened this year that it’s honestly too long to list.”

How often do you get recognized in public?

2017:

“Pretty often,” She nods her head, a chuckle pushing past her lips. “It’s pretty hard to just go out and grab a bite to eat without getting surrounded.”

2020:

“Public? Who is she? I dunno her,” YN teases. “It’s pretty rare that I’ll go out nowadays and the masks only help so much with trying to be lowkey on the street on stuff like tha’.”

2022:

“I have to admit, v’gotten a lot better at being discreet when going out in public,” She nods her head with a knowing smile. “I think I was just so used to not being ‘allowed’ to go outside or if I did I wouldn’t enjoy meself because I knew I was gonna get recognized by paps. It was really hard for baby YN there because of how everything started. Everything I did was in the public eye and no matta’ what I did, me fans always knew where I was at all times it seemed,” YN hums. 

“I love me fans and I love the times when we happen to see each other on the street, we can have like a genuine conversation instead of shoving yeh phone in me face and putting yeh hands on me without me permission. I’ve had the most amazing conversations with fans like tha’ those moments are super special to me.

But in all honesty, they need to get hired by the FBI or somethin’. Knowin’ where m’gonna be before I even do,” She huffs out a chuckle.

What’s most important to you right now?

2020:

“The relationships within me life. I think this year has really made me recognize that. Whether those relationships are with me mum, me boyfriend, me tour team, me dancers, the fans—they’re all super important to me. Makin’ sure that we’re all safe and healthy—mentally and physically—now more than ever.”

  2022:

“All of which are still very important to me. I think v’also learned to stay in touch with me emotions. I think in an industry like this, it can be very easy to just put on a mask or passively go through events to maintain an image. If I’m doing something—wether it be somethin’ major or not, I want to allow m’self to be in the moment.

I did a show recently in Austin and...” The crease between her eyebrows disappear and smile etches itself on her lips at the memory, “I was singing POV and I just stopped singing and the crowd took over. I quite literally just stood there, took out me earpieces and just listened to a stadium full of people sing my song back to me. It made me feel so...it made me feel really good, really happy.”

Do you feel pressure?

2017:

“I do yeah,” YN nods with a sincere furrow of her eyebrows. “But I have been feeling pressure for the majority of my career so I’m mostly used to it by now; It doesn't bother me as much anymore.”

2022:

“Of my fookin’ word,” She throws her head back. “I can’t even—like even the way I spoke, man. Can yeh hear that? Like, I was still in the mindset of having to change the way I talk, tweak me accent and act all prim and proper,” YN points a finger into her mouth as she sticks out her tongue.

“And what a lie. Like of course that pressure bothered me still! I was fresh into the hiatus, just dropped me first solo album, about to do a world tour by meself for the first time. I was dealin’ with so much that I remember the pressure of everything was just...it felt that I was gonna be squished into a pancake. Being in the band and being as big as we were, there was an immense amount of pressure for everything to keep going well; everything seemed like it had to get bigger and bigger and if I didn’t live up to that standard as a solo artist, it was the end of the world to me.”

“I do still feel some pressure but definitely not to that extent anymore. It’s more of like, a good pressure, I’d say. It keeps me from resting on me laurels and it makes me continue to work hard to improve meself. Like, just because I won an award for produce of the year doesn’t mean that m’gonna let it get to me head and just not work to better meself in that craft. 

But I have to admit that a lot of that pressure has been lifted off of me from me fans. They’ve just continued to give me their unconditional love and support—whether it be for a year, 2 years, 12 years—m’just super grateful that they just allow me to be me, flaws and all.”

What did you eat today?

2020:

“I ate some grilled chicken—that I made all by myself—with a side of some beans,” YN giggles as she knows by now that the fans have been having a laugh about her boyfriend’s baked beans comment over interviews in quarantine.

2021:

“I had a chicken caesar salad bowl that I probably put way too much dressing on to be considered healthy anymore,” She chuckles, playing with the chunky chain sitting on her collarbones.

2022:

“I actually had an amazing chicken wrap this morning. Just the right amount of protein and yumminess,” She pats her tummy with a content smile. “Yeh girl likes chicken, what can I say?”

Are you aware of people when you're playing?

2019:

“I think so yeah. It’s crazy because for me, it’s scarier to play in front of 6 people than 60 thousand people. But on the other hand, the noisiness of big crowds is super calming to me. I can’t really explain how. Like right before m’gonna go on stage, I like to take out me ear-pieces and just listen to them scream...which now makes me sound like a serial killer of summ’wat,” YN’s shoulders bunch up to her ears as she giggles.

2022:

“I would say that m’more aware of the audience members now more than I ever have before. This current tour that m’on is probably the funnest tour so far and it’s really because of the fans. When m’on stage and when I’m performing, I make sure to look at the people in the audience, yeh know? Like, I can still remember when the band did our first stadium tour, I honestly couldn’t see anything; they were all just blurbed together. 

But with this tour, I make sure to take the time during the show to talk with fans. And I make an effort to sing to them and look at them dancing in the pit, the outfits they recreate, the way some of them are just closing their eyes and just being in the moment. As a musician, to see people come to me show and to see how they create this environment where everyone can have fun and let loose and just have a good time is just super amazin’. It’s a really indescribable feeling.”

Are you more confident this year compared to last year?

2018:

“From last year to now? 100%,” She answers with ease, leaning back into her seat. “I think this is the most confident I’ve ever felt, I think. M’not too worried about what people are sayin’ about me because let’s face it, they are always saying something. So if yeh like me, cool. If yeh don’t, cool.”

2022:

“She’s not wrong. 2018 YN’s ego was pretty up there. Granted, me ego is still growing and sensitive so—” YN shamelessly shrugs and puts her hands up in defense. “—Take tha’ as you will. But I definitely feel more confident and secure in who I am as a person and as an artist. When the boys and I went our separate ways musically, I had a hard time sort of, figuring out what I like and the kind of music I wanted to make for meself. Even the way I thought about fashion, I knew people saw me in skirts and things like that but I remember entertaining the idea of if I wanted to continue that as a security blanket of sorts. 

When I was in the band, I took things with a grain of salt and m’very happy that I’ve kept that with me.” 

Biggest rumor about you?

2017:

“That I’ve slept with each of the 1D boys,” YN lets out a nervous laugh. “Which is gross because they’re all like my brothers.”

2018:

“Where do I even begin?” YN blows out a raspberry. “I’ve been gettin’ this one for literally years now but that m’dating my old bandmate, Harry—which is getting really old at this point,” She scrunches up her nose with a roll of her eyes.

2022:

YN bursts out laughing as she watches her old self answer, knowing full well that during that time period she was in the midst of her on-and-off relationship with Harry. 

She tilts her head to the side with a quick raise of her eyebrows, “I mean, she’s not wrong. V’been getting that question/comment asked since we were on the XFactor. And believe it or not, I still get asked that question. I just answer it differently now,” She cheekily brings her shoulder to her chin.

What do you hate being asked?

2018:

“That. The ‘who are you dating?’ question. For a long time, I just had to suck it up and just answer the question but I don’t have to answer if I don’t want to, y’know? Also, I’m my own person,” She begins to list things off of her fingers, “I’m not someone’s arm candy, m’not so-and-so’s new girl. I’m YN YLN and if all you ask me is if I’m dating anyone rather than me music, you don’t deserve my time.”

2022:

YN drops her jaw and the corners of her lips tug up in a smile.

“A feisty little thing she is,” She chuckles. “But no truer words have ever escaped me mouth. She’s right, and I still stand by that. 100%. My career is not based around a guy or who m’dating. That’s not to say I hate talking about Harry—I love to talk about him but don’t make it the whole point of the interview, yeh know?”

Craziest fan moment?

2021:

“Me first show back on tour after being held back in 2020 was really heartwarming. It a stadium show—not intimidating at all for me first show back—” YN sarcastically comments. “—so there were three levels of seating: the pit, the middle section, and then the top. While I was singing, the audience did a fan project where on the top section held up lights to read welcome back, and then the middle said we missed you, and the pit held up pieces of paper saying we love you. M’not even gonna lie, I was bawlin’ me eyes out. Like, just thinking of the amount of work that went into that...” She shakes her head in disbelief. 

2022:

“I did a show last week in LA and at the barricade, I saw this lineup of these 5 girls wearing my current and past tour outfits. I have seen some really good recreation of me fits before and it was honestly like a copy and paste, I was so shocked. After talking with them for a bit—now I don’t ever do this—but I invited them to come up on stage with me,” YN laughs. 

“I suggested we ditch the choreography for Kiss Me More but they insisted they knew it and sure enough,” YN throws her hands with another laugh. “I almost hired them on the spot!”

Do you have a boyfriend?

2017:

“Um, no. I do not have a boyfriend. I’m just really focused on my music at the moment. That’s my boyfriend,” She lets out a chuckle.

2020:

YN playfully rolls her eyes and throws her hands up, “Well I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said no.”

She huffs out a giggle as she refers to the entire world finding out about her secret relationship with Harry on New Years Eve of that year.

2021:

“I do have a boyfriend,” She smirks at the camera with a shrug of her shoulder, leaving it at that.

2022:

YN takes a second longer to answer this question and stares at the laptop screen with a fond smile. She technically doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore, but will she let them know that? Nope.

“Well, you’d all be happy to know that Harry and I are still very much together. Still got that boy locked down, ladies,” She playfully winks at the camera with a click of her tongue. 

What makes you happy in a relationship?

2022:

“I like quality time. From staying inside 24/7 in 2020 to easing back into my busy schedule made H and I realize that it was important to set some time aside for ourselves, just the two of us. Like, we don’t even have to be talking just as long as we’re together during the business of it all. And...” A smirk grows on her lips, “One of me love languages is physical touch. It definitely wasn't on the list before so you can probably guess who made me this way but yeah. And music, of course, that’s me main form of love language. Whether we’re listening to good music, making it, singing it—anything to do with it m‘in love.”

Describe your style in 3 words.

2017:

“Figuring it out.”

2018:

“No more skirts,” The 24-year-old rolls her eyes.

2019:

“Whatever is comfy,” She laughs as she wraps her light green cardigan tighter over herself.

2020:

“Trying new things.”

2021:

“Trousers and blazers.”

2022:

She tilts her head as she bites her lip, looking up as she thinks about how to compactly frame her style now. As she says the next three words, she holds up her hand to count it off on her fingers, “Pretty in pink. And 2018 YN was a lie. I still fancy a skirt every now and then.”

Biggest thing you’re struggling with?

2019:

“I think, just being honest with meself in terms of how I feel. I think I struggle a lot with allowing meself to feel the way I feel about certain things,” Or about a certain someone. “And that it's okay to feel those things. I know, super detailed,” She chuckles.

2022:

“Yeah, 2019 YN was certainly going through some personal issues. S’crazy to look back at these videos and remember wha’ I was feelin’ during that time. S’pretty crazy. I can say that v’grown immensely from that time of my life which is very comforting to know. It’s still hard for me, don’t get me wrong, but allowing myself to feel things like love or sadness or happiness is something that I’m subconsciously reminding myself to do. 

I think the biggest thing that m’stuggling now with is to have check ins with meself. It’s safe to say that m’back to my busy, hectic, never-ending schedule so I want to take a breather every now and then. It can be a whole day, a whole 20 minutes, just a pause to check in with my mind, me body, me spirt to make sure m’okay and then be off to a career that I love very dearly.”

What advice would you give your future self?

2017:

“Have some fun and enjoy this new chapter that you’re venturing onto,” She nods with a smile.

2019:

“I would say to allow yourself to feel uncomfortable. Step out of your comfort zone and take that leap of faith.”

2022:

“What a genetic piece of advice for that first year, eh?” YN chuckles with a smirk, “Enjoy this new chapter you're venturing onto like yeh can hear how professional I wanted to sound,” She playfully rolls her eyes with a sigh. “I would say that 2019 YN’s advice is a good one though. It’s a good reminder to not play things safe all the time. As a narcissist, I want everything to be perfect, especially me music, so to be in the studio and not fall back to me old habits of what I think sounds good, try something different, yeh know? I like that a lot, actually.”

This is my mum...

2017:

“Everyone, say hello to Penny,” YN proudly presents as her stepmum comes up to her side, placing a hand on the back of her chair as she waves at the camera.

“‘Ello, lovelies,” Penny beams.

2018:

“Penny!” YN smiles brightly. When she wiggles her fingers towards her stepmum the sound of her rings clinking together can be heard.

When Penny walks up to her stepdaughter’s side, she puts her hands on top of YN’s red leather jacket to give her shoulders a squeeze.

“Hi baby,” Her stepmum gives a warm smile and gently presses her chin to YN’s temple.

2019:

Penny tucks her long, black hair behind her ears before wrapping her arms around her stepdaughter’s shoulders. 

“I love you, my baby,” She says into her hair before planting a kiss on her head.

“I love youuu so much,” YN sings as she holds onto her stepmum’s forearms over her chest.

2020:

“Y’already know what time it is,” YN dances in her seat, her arms already extended out by her side. She lets out a laugh as she watches Penny shimmy her way to her stepdaughter’s side. The tight high waisted jeans show off her curvy, fit figure and a mask covers the lower half of her face.

“It’s Penny time,” Her stepmum throws finger guns at the camera.

2021:

“Come over ‘ere, mum,” YN nods her head over to Penny. Once she’s close enough, she takes a hold of her stepmum’s hand and pulls her over for her to sit on her lap, wrapping her arms over her torso, “Love you.”

“I love you more, baby,” Penny smiles as she leans her head back to rest beside YN’s. 

2022:

“This is me mumma,” YN smiles warmly before cooing out a chuckle. “Wha’ happened?” She questions when she sees Penny walk over to her side with glossy eyes.

“Sorry, m’sorry,” She chuckles, dabbing her under eyes with the sides of her index fingers. “S’just really fookin’ cool to see how far you’ve come. Like look at her—” Penny points to the laptop screen that has 2017 YN on display. “—me lil’ baby.”

“Mum!” YN laughs when Penny wraps her arms around her daughter’s head and pulls it to her chest.

Taglist:

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[be-with-me-so-happily]

Chapter 7

Series Summary: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she hates how everyone thinks Harry is. Because she knows that's not the case.

Chapter Summary: Cassidy thought her friendship with Harry and her relationship with Derek could exist peacefully. But you can't always have what you want, and sometimes you can keep what you already have.

Chapter Warnings: Some explicit language, mention of sex, alcohol consumption, jealousy, argument, physical altercation, panic/anxiety attack

[ present - August 2020 ]

As the sunlight from outside peeks through the curtains, Cassidy stretches her body, her eyes still shut as she holds onto that peaceful feeling.

A stirring beside her opens her eyes, and she rolls over to see Derek slowly waking.

It wasn't planned that he would stay the night, but the relief from her completed work, a couple glasses of wine, and the feeling of his lips persistently grazing her neck sent them straight to the bedroom as soon as her laptop was shut.

"Mm. Good morning." Derek mumbles, turning onto his side and slowly blinking to clear his vision, smiling as they meet each other's gaze. "I definitely enjoy waking up like this."

Cassidy brings her shoulders up in shyness, a blush forming on her cheeks. He is the first man, in a very long time, that she has woken up next to in the bed. The man before him was, maybe unfortunately, her last sexual partner. The man before him is actually, in a way, the reason it's been so long. Because, the man before him is Cecelia's father.

[ flashback - January 2016 ]

"You had sex with Nathan?" Gemma squeals, bouncing in excitement.

Cassidy smiles at not only the question, or the memory of that night, but also at how silly yet normal it feels to be sitting on Gemma's bed and talking about boys, since now they are in their early twenties.

"You're acting like I'm some shy, little virgin, Gem! I've had sex before."

Her best friend swats her arm and Cassidy grabs it in dramatic fashion.

"I know you're not, CJ. I was at the party when that all changed." She winces in disgust, and Cassidy knows it is due to the reminder of that night. She was naive, and inexperienced, and it was just bad. "I know about everyone you've had sex with."

Cassidy clears her throat, desperately hoping that Gemma doesn't read anything into it, because there is actually one person that her best friend does not know about. That she can never know about. Gemma will never know that Cassidy had sex with Harry. Twice.

"Okay, now you're making me out to be a whore."

"Oh for fucks sake, CJ." Gemma rolls her eyes, pulling her knees to rest under her chin. "So… what was he like?"

"Gem!" Cassidy exclaims, tossing a nearby pillow in her friend's direction.

"What? I had to ask…"

"You really didn't…"

Gemma pouts, giving her best begging eyes, even though they both know that Cassidy will spill the beans anyway.

"It was good." She states, dropping her head down onto her own knees as she feels a pink hue rushing to her cheeks. "Really good."

"That's all I get?"

"I'm not going into detail about it, Gem, bloody hell!"

"Fine." Gemma's shoulders drop in disappointment, causing Cassidy to let out a loud laugh.

"It was hot and sweaty." She replies, suddenly wanting to give her friend just a little something to satisfy the curiosity. "And, he was good at it."

A buzz almost vibrates through the entire mattress, and both girls check their phones to see who was sent some form of communication. Cassidy holds hers up so the screen is on full view for her friend.

"Speaking of…"

🗨️Nathan: i had a really good time with you

Cassidy instantly feels the pink hue turn to a bright, hot red. She bites her bottom lip, and her gaze flickers up to her best friend, not speaking any words to clue her in on what was just said through the text.

🗨️Cassidy: i did too

🗨️Nathan: i'll let you know next time i'm in town

🗨️Nathan: if you wanna hang out again

"Well… what does it say? Are you gonna see him again?" Gemma asks, scooting across the bedding as if it gets her closer to the information she's about to receive.

"Ummm…" Cassidy begins to reply. She feels an almost giddiness begin to flutter in her stomach, but tries to reel it in. When they met, at that One Direction party, she figured he was nice, even though their interaction was cut short by a certain long-haired twat. And when Michal later mentioned Nathan had been asking about her, she must admit she was a little flattered, despite the awkward tension in the room between her and Harry. It's sort of ironic that she was so insistent that she and Nathan were not going on a date on New Year's Eve, yet here she is, talking to her best friend about how she just spent the night with him. She can almost hear Harry's disgustingly arrogant 'I was right' comment if he were also involved in this conversation. She hates that he was, coincidentally, correct. But her recent date with Nathan went really well, and even though it would cause Harry's already giant ego to grow, she's actually glad she got together with the guy.

"Yeah." She utters, looking down at the open messages on her phone, slight discouragement settling in.

"That doesn't sound convincing…"

"It's just that…" Cassidy looks up, her teeth toying with her bottom lip as she adjusts her posture. "He isn't always in town. I guess he's been traveling a bit for his job."

"What does he do?" Gemma asks. "I don't remember."

"Honestly? I don't either." She admits, pulling her lips inward with a little guilt. "Something with production, or marketing, I think."

"Hm." Her best friend hums, an expression of thought now embedded between her brows. "Well, it seems as if he likes you… he wants to see you again when he can… maybe just see where it goes?"

"See where it goes." Cassidy utters back, as if to let the words take root in her brain. She looks down to her phone again, her thumbs positioned over the keyboard as she begins to type.

🗨️Cassidy: yeah, let me know when you're back

[ present - August 2020 ]

Cassidy gives Derek one last kiss before rolling out of his arms and scooting close to the edge of the bed to retrieve her phone.

"I think we slept in…"

"That's good… right?" Derek chuckles, a humorously confused look across his still sleepy face.

"Yeah, it is, I guess. I just never get to do it. But it's good." She smiles back, unlocking her phone to check the time. As she opens it, her expression drops and she quickly sits up in the bed. "Nope… not good. Not good!"

"What? Why?" Derek asks, sitting up to match her posture and placing his hand on her back.

"Shit. Umm… okay, okay…" She stutters, looking around the room for something, though she isn't sure what she needs, since her mind has become a jumble. "The time! Harry is gonna be here in 15 minutes with Cece!"

"Okay… I don't understand why that's bad."

Cassidy sighs. Not truly out of annoyance, but more so to regulate her breathing, also hoping she can take that second to gather her thoughts.

"She's going to see you here." That's all she can manage as her mind focuses on searching for her clothes.

"I'm… confused… I'm still not seeing the problem."

She can't blame him, really. He's never dated a single mum, so he's not accustomed to the dynamic of this sort of relationship. She really shouldn't blame herself for anything either, but she can't help picturing the face Cecelia will make seeing Derek there when she is brought back home. It doesn't sit right with Cassidy, not this early on.

"She's still getting used to us being together, Derek. I don't want to make it even more awkward for her."

"Cecelia is only 3 years ol-"

"Derek, please. Y-you... I need you to leave."

"Okay." He slides out of the bed, stopping his steps as he gets close enough to hold onto her shoulders. "I don't want you to stress out. I'll go."

Cassidy nods in response, closing her eyes as he kisses her forehead and releases his hold for them to both find their clothing.

She feels her breaths pick up their pace, hoping she can keep herself calm enough so that Derek doesn't pick up on her current fret.

As he finally finishes dressing, he comes up behind her, shuffling along with his hands on her waist as she exits the bedroom, walking to the hook by the front door where he placed his keys.

She spins around to find a wide, amused grin stretched across his face, causing a small amount of annoyance to bubble up.

"What's so entertaining about this?"

He pulls her closer, once again placing his lips on her forehead, then down onto her nose, and one on her own lips.

"This is the first time I've been kicked out." He utters. "But if it ended up happening, I would never have thought it would be because someone was coming back home. Well, not a kid, at least."

"It's just…" She begins to reply, not even sure of what she wants to convey, her mind is in too much of a frantic state.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood, I'm sorry."

He pulls back, lifting her chin to focus her gaze on his. "It'll be okay. I'll call you later, yes?"

"Yes." She quietly responds, receiving one last kiss, and watches as he exits through the front door.

She releases a few shallow breaths as she attempts to gather herself. Derek is gone, which wasn't the problem, but she does believe that having him there when Cecelia got home would just create an even more awkward dynamic between the two of them. She may be young, but she is observant and bright. Cassidy is sure she would pick up on the fact that something was different. Or, at the very least, feel upset because someone else is at their flat in the morning, despite her own absence. Even if Cassidy is completely wrong, she'd much rather be safe than sorry. Her daughter always comes first.

A knock on the door pulls her out of her daze, creating a frustration since it seems Derek is being a bit careless and disregarding her wishes.

She swings the door open, finding Harry standing on the other side, with Cecelia's little hand wrapped in one of his, and her belongings held in his other.

"Mummy!" She exclaims, releasing herself from Harry and wrapping her arms around her mum's leg.

"H-hey, Bug." Cassidy manages to reply, her gaze flickering down the corridor with worry beginning to build. Did they see him? Did they both see Derek? If they did, what might he have said to them?

She moves out of the way, ushering them both inside, and closes the door behind them.

Cecelia runs straight to her bedroom, and Harry turns around with a curious expression on his face.

"I see work went well…" He states, an unclear tone to his words. Cassidy feels her chest tighten at the realization that they did, in fact, run into the man who stayed the night. Not only did her daughter encounter him, but Harry too, and she can't determine why that bothers her almost as much, but assumes it is because of the tension they always seem to have. "Cass, are you alright?"

"Did… did he say anything?"

"Who? Derek?"

"Yeah."

Harry shakes his head, putting down the bag of Cecelia's things and placing one hand on Cassidy's arm.

"I spotted him in the parking lot. Cece didn't even notice." His response helps her to release a bit more of a shaky breath, and Harry gently squeezes her arm. "Hey. Inhale and exhale for me, yeah?"

Her eyes meet his, seeing the familiar concern that he has shown each time he's helped her through a panicked state. He begins to demonstrate what he's asked her to do, and she follows along, breathing in and out at the same pace, seeing his own worry diminish each time they do so together.

"There you go." He encourages, his focus fixed on her. "Better?"

"Yes." She replies, her lungs opening with her new regulated breathing. "Thank you."

"What's going on?" He asks, that concern seemingly turning from her panic and now to what may have caused it.

"I don't really know." She replies. Despite simply not wanting Derek's presence to create an uncomfortable environment for Cecelia, she isn't sure why that possible scenario caused such an intense reaction.

"Was it Derek?" He questions, his tone turning a lot more stern than it was just moments ago. "Did something happen with him?"

"No, no, no." She quickly responds, wanting to squash the negative assumption immediately. "No. I just… I didn't want Cece to see him here."

"Why's that?" He asks suddenly.

"I'm not sure." Her brow furrows, searching her mind for a satisfying answer. Not necessarily for Harry, but for herself. "I just thought it might be awkward for her. I'm sure I was just being ridiculous."

"That's not ridiculous, Cass." He gives her a small, yet reassuring smile. "She's your daughter. You want to do what feels right for her."

A warmth falls over her. A sudden relief through validation. She's a mother. She's allowed to be protective. Especially when allowing another person into their lives. And besides, this is all new territory for her.

Derek hasn't been in a situation like this either, so she can't expect him to understand. Oddly, Harry seems to get it, but many of his other friends have children too. He's probably been privy to a multitude of different parenting difficulties.

"I didn't… plan any of it, by the way."

"What do you mean?" He asks, confusion appearing on his features.

"I didn't know he was coming over last night. He showed up while I was working. He hung around while I was writing, and then we ended up-"

"I don't need the details." Harry interrupts, smiling yet wincing simultaneously, causing Cassidy to laugh.

"I just don't want you to think that I had you watch Cece so I could… have a date or something, and not tell you." She explains softly, and shyly.

"Cass… I know you're not that type of person." Harry chuckles. "And I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. I offered to help, there were no conditions."

She sighs out of relief. Mainly due to the reassurance of his willingness to help out. But also, mildly, she feels that relief because he doesn't seem to be uncomfortable with whatever potential reason she needed that help. Maybe that's a good sign, that they can all get along, and be around each other.

"Plus, I'll take any opportunity to spend time with the James girls…" He begins to add, and by the look being created in his face, Cassidy can tell he has something cheeky to say next. "Well, one of them. The other is a bit of a nuisance…"

"Oh you're one to talk, you wank-"

"But speaking of hanging out, are you free this weekend? My friends Sarah and Mitch want to meet you." He states, a shy blush forming on his cheeks, and an almost timidness to his tone.

"From your band? Why?" She asks, hoping the question didn't come across as snarky. Though, considering their usual banter, she wouldn't really care either way.

"Yeah." He chuckles, running a ring-free hand through his unclipped hair. "They want to meet the girl who tormented me as a kid."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" She exclaims, watching as a wide grin stretched across his face, and a dimple caves into his cheeks.

Harry throws up his hands, dramatically, in defense of his sarcastic statement.

"That's how I remember it…" He replies, the grin somehow getting wider. "It would be a small group of us, eating out or something. You can tell lies… I mean stories… from our childhood."

"Wow. You are really selling me on the idea of hanging out with you and your friends." She rolls her eyes, noticing Harry pulls his lips as he jokingly does the same.

"You'll have friends there too. Me…" He points to himself proudly, and arrogantly, as if that's all the reason she needs. To be fair, it is. She would hang out with him any time. But considering how Derek feels, it's probably best to include more people. At least for now.

"Wow. Convincing." She scoffs, lightheartedly.

"And Gem." He jokingly scowls back. "And Roxie, if you want to invite her."

"Well, in that case…" She teases, pretending to ponder all the information she's just been given. One thing she does actually wonder is if she should mention the man she's been dating. If she should include him, too. It's Harry's invitation. He doesn't seem to be the biggest fan of Derek, who seems to reciprocate the feeling, so it's probably best not to. Besides, she has seen a lot more of Derek lately than the others, and she can have a night out with just her friends if she wants. "Count me in!"

•••

Despite the new limited capacity inside, the pub seems to be filled with noise and laughter, and as she walks up to the secluded booth filled with her friends, Cassidy can't help but feel as if this is something she's been needing. Though, it's probably something that most people have been needing, ever since the world practically shut down.

There's probably not enough gratitude she can express for this venue allowing small groups of people, masked until they are seated, to get together and slowly get back a bit more freedom. And just as much, she is thankful for Harry's invitation to a night out.

"There she is!" Gemma exclaims, causing each person's head to swivel in her direction. "Is Roxie coming?"

"No, she couldn't make it."

"Well, nice of you to join us." Harry adds, instantly receiving a friendly glare from her.

"Hey! I had to try to explain to Cece why she couldn't come and hang out with us." She shakes her head, almost exhausted from the fifteen minute conversation she had with her 3 year old before she left.

"She just wants to be with her bestie…"

"Yeah and I still can't figure out why." She chuckles, sliding into the spot at the end of the seat, next to Gemma.

"You must be Cassidy then." She hears from the middle of the group, turning and meeting the gaze of the brunette smiling back at her.

"I am! You must be Sarah." She smiles, reaching across the table as best she can to shake hands. Her gaze moves over a few inches to see a quiet, brunette man, with the smallest of smiles on his face, barely detectable as he makes eye contact. "And you must be Mitch."

"Yep." He responds, reaching his own hand out for a quick shake.

"Nice to meet you both." She states, settling back down in her seat. As her gaze flickers over to Harry, she sees his lips pulled slightly to his left in a subtle smirk, as if proud that they've all finally met. Though, the funny thought crosses her mind that he might not be so happy about the situation if and when she corrects any ridiculously inaccurate stories he's already told them. "I hear I have some childhood memories I need to straighten out."

"That was a joke, Cass."

"They still deserve to know the truth." She smirks, seeing his grow a little wider with amusement. "But first, I need a drink."

•••

As Harry buries his face in his palms, the rest of the group erupts with laughter, unfortunately for him it's at his expense.

"My mum never intended for him to wear that dalmatian costume for two more years…" Gemma states, expanding on the story they've been engrossed in.

"It didn't even fit him anymore. The hem of the bottoms came halfway up his shins!" Cassidy adds, trying hard to catch her own breath.

"Alright. Alright." Harry lifts his head, giving it a shake as he gives his sister a glare.

"Sorry little brother." Gemma states.

"It's a fun memory!" Cassidy adds, regaining control of her breaths. As it settles, she focuses on him, seeing a sheepish smile on his face.

"Yes, yes. They've all been so fun." He proclaims sarcastically.

"Well, fun for us…" She responds, pointing between herself and her best friend. Harry purses his lips with a squint of his eyes, causing Cassidy to lift her almost empty glass for a sip, to fake some innocence. Though, she knows he's unbothered by it. He was the one to create this situation after all.

She feels a buzz under her hand, and she flips her palm over to unlock her phone, opening the new message she has just received.

🗨️Derek: hey beautiful, having fun?

🗨️Cassidy: yeah, loads!

"What about secrets? I'm sure you've got some good ones to share about this guy that most people don't know!" Sarah asks.

She closes out of the texts, turning off her screen to think over Sarah's question. For a second, Cassidy believes she doesn't have any, only funny stories to embarrass the guy. However, only a moment later, she is reminded of the one secret they share. The one no one else knows. The one where their bodies were entangled in a sweaty mess in his hotel room. Twice. The one that cannot and will not be shared with anyone else. Especially not at this table, with this crowd. Especially not with Gemma, her best friend and his sister, sitting right beside her.

Her eyes shoot up to his, noticing his lips pulled inward in anticipation. Or maybe worry. Clearly, though, he was reminded of the same thing as he stares at her with wide eyes.

"Umm…" She stalls, watching him squirm in place as she feels her heart begin to race. What can she even say? Her delayed response is only going to make things more uncomfortable, and maybe even begin to look suspicious. She has got to think of something to say, and thankfully, to her extreme relief, she thinks of one other thing to share. "I do know… one thing…"

"Ca-... Cass…" He utters nervously, and quietly, potentially hoping to be unheard by the others, and plead with her not to share their intimate secret. He shouldn't be worried, she wants to keep that locked away as much as he does. Maybe even more.

"When he was younger, Harry had a crush…" She begins in a teasing manner, noticing his eyes squeeze shut. "On his teacher, Mrs. Hamilton."

His eyes shoot open with surprise, and possibly even gratitude, despite her statement being of utter humiliation for him.

"How did you-"

"I overhead you singing some cutesy little made-up song about her one day."

"You did not!" Gemma squeals, a question rather than a defense for him.

"Most boys have a crush on a teach-"

"She was 50 years old, H!" His sister interrupts, causing his hands to return back into his palms as he growls in embarrassment.

"She had a nice smile." He whimpers, and Cassidy can just make out the red blush on his cheeks.

Despite it being a mild admission, she does feel bad for revealing the information, so she takes a deep breath and reaches towards him, placing the tips of her fingers on his for encouragement.

"I… had a crush on Mr. Peters…"

"Oh god!" Gemma exclaims, her palm hitting her forehead as fast as the words leave her lips. "That's just as appalling."

"He had a nice smile, too." She adds, watching Harry lift his head and chuckle, sending an almost appreciative glance with his glistening green eyes. She feels a tickle on her cheeks as a pink hue undoubtedly begins to surface, so she pulls her hands back and straightens herself. "And now I need another drink!"

"I'll get it." Sarah states, bumping Mitch on the arm, causing him to do the same to Harry. "My shout, I'll pay, as a thanks for giving up all those details about H!"

As Harry stands, he rolls his eyes and steps aside, letting his friend out of the booth. Sarah winks as she walks away, and Cassidy feels a nudge on her own arm.

"I need to use the toilet." Gemma utters, causing Cassidy to slide off from the seat and allow her friend to slide by.

Another vibration from her phone grabs Cassidy's attention as she reclaims her seat, and she opens it up to see a couple more messages have just come in.

🗨️Derek: how long will you be there?

🗨️Derek: was hoping to come by after

Cassidy rereads his question, unsure as to why it seems to suddenly, but only slightly, bother her. He knew she was going out with her friends tonight, and that the two of them didn't have any plans together. But nonetheless, she supposes it should be considered sweet that he still wants to see her.

🗨️Cassidy: not sure, maybe an hour or 2

🗨️Derek: oh, really? okay

She places her phone back down onto the table and sighs, thinking that maybe she should have actually included Derek in this get-together.

"You good?" She hears next to her, coming from that familiar and deep voice of her friend, apparently now sitting next to her. She looks up to find his curious, maybe even concerned, expression waiting for her answer.

"Yeah, I'm good." She nods, but it doesn't seem to ease the tension in his features.

"Is it Cece?" He asks, scooting just a little closer as his eyes float down to the device in front of them.

"No, no, she's fine. Our neighbor is over at our flat to watch her. And she's in bed anyway." She replies, inhaling a deep breath and feeling an odd, random sense of comfort as his cologne hits her senses. "It's actually Derek texting me."

Harry's body tenses, very apparent to her, but maybe not so much to his other friend Mitch who is now listening to something on his own phone. She wishes she knew exactly why Harry reacts that way every time she mentions the man she's seeing. If she knows what it is that bothers him, maybe she can fix it.

"Right. And, umm…" He unclamps the clip that has been holding his hair back, and runs his fingers through as he tussles it around. "Did he not want to come out tonight?"

"I didn't invite him." She unintentionally blurts out, no longer able to cultivate a better reply.

"Oh." He utters, and Cassidy catches a small upward tug of his lips, which he immediately attempts to retract. "Why's that?"

"I just wanted a night out with my friends." She shrugs, doing her best not to react to his true, yet subtle, expression of happiness at Derek's absence. "He can come to the next one."

"Sure." He nods, stretching his long, tattooed arm across to grab his glass, instantly bringing it to his lips for a taste of the contents. Cassidy rolls her eyes, though only internally, at the underlying tone to his statement, no matter how hard he's trying to cover it up.

Another notification buzzes through, and she hears an exhaled scoff from the man beside her, slightly muffled by the edge of the glass still pressed between his lips.

🗨️Derek: text me later then

🗨️Cassidy: i will

She relocks the screen once again, setting the phone into her bag to focus on the friends in front of her. She meets Harry's gaze to find him smiling, potentially the biggest smile of the whole night.

"What?"

"I'm just glad we all get to hang out." He shrugs, a timid innocence drawn with his words.

"Really? Even though I'm counteracting this alternative reality you seem to have created for your other friends?" She chuckles, nudging his side gently with her elbow.

"Yes. Despite that." Harry responds, running his thumb along his bottom lip. "It's fun to reminisce…"

"Yeah. You're right." She agrees. "Turns out not all of my childhood memories were so bad."

[ flashback - September 1999 ]

Sitting atop her fluffy pink quilt, her little fingers picking at the nails of each hand, Cassidy waits for someone to enter her bedroom. She doesn't know who it will be. She doesn't know who she wants it to be. But what she does know, even at the age of 6, is that whatever she just walked into was something she wasn't meant to see.

"CJ?" She hears spoken softly, accompanied by a gentle knocking on her door. Her shoulders drop, feeling a little calmer as to who is on the other side.

Her mother slowly opens the door, keeping that quiet, calm demeanor as she steps inside and closes it behind her, allowing it to be just the two of them in the conversation.

"I'm sorry if me and your dad scared you." Her mother states solemnly, taking a seat on the bed and stroking her daughter's hair in comfort. "We were… having a little disagreement…"

"You were yellin', and yellin' is bad." Cassidy responds quickly, and so matter-of-fact, showing off how well she really does know the rules of the house.

"I know, darling, I'm sorry."

"I didn't like it."

"I know, I'm sorry…" Her mother sighs, kissing the top of her daughter's head. "We shouldn't have been so loud."

Cassidy leans into her mother's chest, feeling warmth and comfort appear as she is wrapped up in the hug.

"Mummy?"

"Yes?"

Cassidy pulls her head back, innocently looking into her mother's eyes.

"Daddy shouldn't have hit you. Hittin' is bad, too." She furrows her brow, remembering her father's hand smack across her mother's face as Cassidy entered the kitchen earlier in the evening. "I didn't like that either."

"I know. I'm sorry, CJ." Her mother pulls Cassidy's body back to her, the hold a little tighter this time. "He was… upset. I made a mistake and… well, anyway, I'm alright. Okay? I'm alright."

"Okay." She nods, feeling a hot breath on her hair, causing another question to want to wiggle its way out. "Umm… Mummy…"

"Yes, darling?"

"Will… will he-... what if I make-"

"CJ." Her mother states, pushing back to stare into her daughter's eyes, showing such a sincerity that even the young girl can understand it. "You don't have to worry. No one will hurt you."

[ present day - August 2020 ]

As Cassidy enters through the doors to the lift of her building, she realizes she hadn't sent a text to the babysitter, letting her know that she was on her way.

"Damn it." She mumbles, reaching inside of her bag to retrieve her device, hoping she didn't miss any important messages.

As she unlocks the screen of her phone, she is met with multiple notifications, and feels guilt poke at her heart for not checking it sooner.

Her finger presses to open the app and her breath halts momentarily as she realizes that every message is from one particular person.

🗨️Derek: have you left the pub?

🗨️Derek: are you back yet?

🗨️Derek: can you please text me

🗨️Derek: when will you be home?

🗨️Derek: Cassidy where are you?

Eyes growing wide and the noise of the lift reaching her floor pulls her attention away as the doors begin to open.

She steps out, her gaze adjusting down the corridor towards her flat, and notices someone sitting by her door.

"What the…" She utters quietly, catching up with her thoughts as she catches the attention of the visitor. "Derek? What th-... what… are you doing here?"

The man scrambles to his feet and instantly stands tall, the expression on his face being one of concern. No, it's not one of concern, it's one that is concerning. To her.

"I told you that I wanted to come by."

"Right, but… Derek, I-... I was out with my friends…"

"I know. You said you'd be back in an hour or two, so I made my way over." He shrugs, as if this shouldn't be a surprise to her at all. As if this was always the plan for the night. "You took a bit longer than you said though."

"You've… you've just been… waiting out here?" She watches as Derek nods, swift and simple, yet not doing anything to subside the shock and confusion that's chaotically taken over her brain. "Umm… l-let's just… go inside."

She reaches into her bag and the quiet jingle of keys captures her focus enough to unlock the door and slowly push it open.

"We need to be quiet. Cece is asleep." She whispers over her shoulder, hearing a hum of acknowledgement behind her.

They both step through the doorway, and Cassidy's neighbor stands up from the sofa.

"How was she, Mrs. Clarkson?"

"She was great." The lady smiles. "Went down for bed pretty easily too.'

"Well, thank you so much for watching her tonight. I really appreciate it." Cassidy states, more than grateful to have finally gotten to know her neighbor a few weeks ago, and the woman's offer to take care of Cecelia whenever she was needed.

"It's no problem. Cece is so fun and so sweet. It was my pleasure." Mrs. Clarkson states and suddenly glances behind Cassidy, seemingly noticing the man standing a foot or two away. "Well… I suppose I better be off then."

Mrs. Clarkson nods at the both of them, grabbing a small bag and shuffling towards the door.

"Are you sure I can't give you some mon-" Cassidy tries to ask, despite their earlier conversation, before her night out even began.

"You are just as sweet as your daughter. But I'm sure." Her neighbor swivels around, one hand up in front, the other on the doorknob, and a smile on her face. "I'm here to help, if and when you need me. Enjoy your night."

"Thank you." Cassidy replies, watching the woman walk out, closing the door, and seeming to take the positive vibes with her. Her previous confusion and frustration reappear instantly as she turns her attention back to Derek. "What is going on? Why did you come over?"

"A guy can't just want to see his girl?" He asks, a sarcastic tone to his voice, and his arms across his chest.

"That's not what I'm saying. But tonight was about me spending time with my friends."

"And am I not good enough to hang out with them, too?"

"What? It's not that… you…" Cassidy exhales forcefully, confusion clouding her mind enough to prohibit any complete thought or sentence to be formed. She still has no grasp of an idea as to why he's there or what's going on. "I just… wanted to spend time with my friends."

"Right. Without me." Derek replies, his entire body becoming noticeably more tense as she sees his palms curl into fists.

Cassidy pulls her lips inward, not wanting to say something she may regret, though she isn't even sure what she would say anyway. This entire conversation, and situation in general, is throwing her for a loop.

Thankfully, a buzz from her phone gives her some relief, pulling it out and using the new message as a chance to momentarily reset herself.

🗨️Harry: did you get home safe?

Her thumbs touch the screen to respond, yet the word 'yes' becomes a jumbled array of extra letters as she feels her phone being snatched out from her grasp.

Her mouth drops open, unable to comprehend what has happened, and she shoots her gaze up to see Derek's scowl as he looks down at the device.

"Harry was there?" He growls.

"Derek, what the h-"

"I fucking get it now." He drops the phone back down into her still open hands and scoffs. "Now I see why I wasn't allowed to go."

"What?"

Derek steps closer, and a familiar feeling flows over Cassidy's body, though she doesn't have the speed and steadiness to determine what it is. But she knows it isn't a good one.

"You didn't want me there, because Harry was there."

"Why would that-"

"Because you love him! Don't you? You fucking love him and you lied to me!"

"Derek, Harry and I are just friends." Cassidy replies, quieting her volume in hopes that he will do the same, for the sake of Cecelia's sleep.

A few more steps and he is right in front of her, their toes almost touching. It's normally something that someone would want their significant other to do, but this is not one of the times, and an uneasiness courses through her veins.

"Are you fucking him?" He asks, his voice no more than a whisper, though the intensity in his tone has doubled.

"We've talked ab-"

"Answer the question, Cassidy." He growls, a darkness growing in his glare. "Are you fucking him?"

"No! I'm not!" She replies, her mind swirling in a daze, only providing the most inappropriate memory to manifest at this most inconvenient time. "It's been years since we-"

"Years? Years since… what? Since you two hooked up?" He groans, throwing his head back and running his hands over his face, scoffing at her unintended confession. "I knew it. I fucking knew it."

"It… it was a long… long time ago." She utters, surprising herself that any words came out considering the lump now lodged in her throat.

"Sure. And I'm supposed to believe that you two are 'just friends' now?" His body resets, and a hand suddenly flies forward to grip her arm, causing her body to stiffen, and as his other grabs her phone and throws it to the floor. "I call bullshit."

"Derek… please…" She whispers, her past beginning to surface in her thoughts and feelings.

"Please? Please what?" He mimics, bringing his free hand up to grab her jaw, and his face hovering right in front of hers. "Please forgive you? Please believe you?"

"P-please… let go…"

A little thud and shuffling of tiny feet grab the attention of both adults, sending worry down Cassidy's spine. She hoped it may have caused Derek to release his hold, but he tightens his grip and she whispers as a fear sets in.

"Mummy?" The sleepy little voice sounds out from the bedroom.

"I'll… I'll be r-right there, Bug." Cassidy manages to get out, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Mummy?" Cecelia utters again, clearly having not heard her mum's response, or not understanding it in her drowsy state.

"Stay in your room!" She shouts, shakiness and panic unavoidable at this point, as she hopes it goes unnoticed. Not just by her daughter. "Please, stay in there!"

She hears Cecelia shuffle back to bed, and her cheeks become wet, undoubtedly leaving long black marks as the tears drop.

"You… you need to leave." She mumbles, unsure if her words even left her lips, but desperately hoping they did.

"You think I'd want to stay?" Derek scoffs. He pushes against the arm he holds tightly, releasing it as she begins to stumble and falls to the floor, landing right where her phone did moments before. "No. It's over. I'm done with you."

She watches through blurred vision as he turns and exits the flat, shuddering as the door slams shut, and desperately hoping it doesn't draw her daughter out of her bed again.

With her legs out to her side, and her palms pressed against the floor to prop herself up, she feels anything but steady. How did she end up there? Obviously, she knows Derek pushed her down, but how did things get so bad, so quickly?

A single knock and the sound of the front door opening has her reaching for her phone and beginning to scramble to her feet.

"Cassidy, it's alright." She hears the soft voice of her next door neighbor try to reassure her, and she collapses back to the ground as Mrs. Clarkson's arms wrap around her shoulders, bringing her into a gentle embrace. "I heard the yelling, and the door slam shut."

"I'm… I'm sorr-"

"Sh. Sh. No need to be sorry. I wanted to make sure you're okay." A soft palm runs over Cassidy's hair and the peaceful gesture alerts her to her racing heart and labored breath.

"Cece… she woke… can you…"

"I'll go check on her." Mrs. Clarkson states, pushing herself up. "Is there someone you can call to come over?"

Cassidy nods, not having a specific person in mind, but giving the acknowledgement nonetheless. Her neighbor walks away, and as she hears the door quietly creak open, she turns her daze covered eyes to her device.

She sees her open messages, pressing the call button and holding the phone up to her ear.

"Uh oh. Is this a drunk dial? Or are you ringing to make more fun of me? Because I don't know if I can take much more tonight." Harry chuckles, and in any other situation, Cassidy knows she would be too.

"H-Harry…"

"Yes…?"

"I… I need…" She stutters, trying her hardest to voice any request, any thought, any comprehendible word to help him understand anything she's trying to say. Anything through the choked back wail that's threatening to push through.

"Cass… what is it? What's going on?" He asks, a concerned tone growing with each word.

"Derek… he…"

"What did he do? Where is he? Is he still there?" Shuffling can immediately be heard from the other end, and if Cassidy could put any extra thought into it, she would know he's putting shoes on.

"No." She whispers, feeling a mild amount of relief as she hears the beep of his car unlocking. But her breathing stays rapid and she clutches her chest with her free hand, as if to keep her heart in place.

"I'll be right there."

Her body begins to feel weak, her eyes begin to glaze over even more, and her hand drops down with a loose grasp on her phone. She hardly registers anything besides overwhelming dread and anxiety, though the feeling of her device leaving her hand can just barely be acknowledged. And then the faint sound of Harry's voice can ever so slightly be heard shouting through the speaker.

"Cass? Cass!"

"Hello?" Another voice speaks, gentle and calm, belonging to Mrs. Clarkson.

The muffled noise from their conversation fades into the background and Cassidy is left with the sound of her fast heartbeats and even faster breaths.

"It'll be alright. He's on his way." She hears beside her. "Harry's on his way."

[ flashback - May 2005 ]

Cassidy sits on her bed and giggles as she watches her best friend twirl around the room in one of the dresses they found in the closet.

"This one should work." Gemma asks, stopping her motions and posing in front of the full length mirror that is propped up against the wall. "You're sure you're okay with lending it to me?"

"Of course!" Cassidy exclaims. "That's what best friends are for."

"Exactly." Gemma winks in reflection, taking one last look at herself before turning around to face her friend. "I need to use the toilet, and I'll change in there too."

The noise of the bathroom door sounds out and Cassidy pushes herself off the mattress, bending down to begin tidying up the multitude of outfits that did not satisfy the specific look that Gemma was going for.

A sudden thud causes Cassidy to jump in place, and her happy, fun demeanor is replaced with anxiety as she hears two voices from the front of the house. From her mum and dad. That means, their happy, fun day is about to turn chaotic, and they need to get out of there. Fast.

"No, no, no."

She drops the clothes and bursts out of her bedroom to the door across the way, bringing her fist up to gently, but vigorously, knock on the wood.

"Gem." She whispers, keeping her words and actions as quiet as possible. "Gemma."

"Alright. Alright. Hold on." She hears in a response, an unknowingly chuckle accompanying the words.

"Gemma. We've… we've got to go."

The door swings open, and Cassidy sees her best friend's curious yet playful expression turn to one of concern as loud voices begin to fill the house.

"What's-"

She's not even sure what her main concern is at this moment, but what she does know is that she wants to get out of there. She needs to get out of there. They both do. She grabs her best friend's hand, motioning for her to keep quiet and begins to maneuver through the house to the back door, while the yelling only increases in volume and intensity.

As they arrive at their exit point, Cassidy's palm grips the doorknob, but she feels Gemma's hand squeeze her own as a sharp noise booms, quickly followed by quiet whimpers.

"You stupid cunt!" The deep voice of her father yells, accompanied by another sharp smack.

"Oh my god." Gemma whispers, and Cassidy's heart sinks as they sneak out of the house. She feels hurt, because she knows her mum is now in pain, and she feels embarrassed, because her best friend now knows it too.

They round the corner of the home, hands still gripped onto each other, and Cassidy lets out an exhausted, but relieved exhale as they reach the footpath out front.

"Umm, so…" She hears, turning to face her best friend, but unable to meet her gaze.

"That… that was awkward, right?" She chuckles, hoping to play it off as normal as possible. "Sorry you heard my parents… having a bit of a… a small disagreement…"

"That sounded like it was way more than a small disagreement, CJ." Gemma replies, her usual confidence taken over by compassionate caution.

"Oh, no. It was nothing."

"I heard him call her a… a cunt… and I heard him… hit her."

"It's… I mean, they just…" Cassidy sighs, choking back the tears in a last ditch effort to keep her composure, though she has the awareness that it's truly failing.

"CJ." Gemma mutters the statement of her name, and the dam breaks. Her hands fly up to her face, knowing her reaction has already been seen, yet still wanting to disappear into nothing. It's bad enough that those 'disagreements' even occur, but having her best friend hear it, know about it, makes it that much worse. And also, that much more real. When no one else knew, at least Cassidy could pretend it didn't happen at all, or that it was just a bad dream. But now? Now someone else knows, now she can't hide it, and now she has to face the truth.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Well…" Gemma begins, grabbing her friend's shoulders. "I think we should… can I at least tell my parents? Maybe they'll, like, let you stay over."

Cassidy looks right at her best friend, practically her sister, and finds the sincerest and most compassionate of expressions she's ever come across. She can only imagine how much deeper they would be from Anne and Robin. Though the thought of anyone knowing her secret terrified her before, something about Gemma, Anne, and Robin knowing makes her feel at ease. If she wanted anyone to know, it would be them. The family she's basically growing up with now as her own.

"Okay." She agrees, feeling nervous yet comfortable with the decision. "Just, please, don't tell your brother."

[ present - August 2020 ]

Cassidy can't tell if it has felt like mere seconds, or a full hour since Derek had stormed out, so the new knock at the door sends a shiver over her body.

It creaks open, and Cassidy glances over from her spot on the sofa to see Mrs. Clarkson standing cautiously in the small gap she has made between the door and the frame.

"Hello." She states solemnly.

"Hi. I'm Harry." He replies quickly, almost an urgency to his greeting.

The neighbor nods and opens the space wide enough for him to enter the flat. As soon as Cassidy sees his short tousled curls, the small amount of sweat framing his face, and the terrified anger shooting through the greens of his eyes, her gaze immediately falls down to her pathetically shaky hands.

The fragrance of his cologne hits her first, swiftly followed by the warmth of his palms on her thighs.

"Cass." Harry exhales, lifting her chin with his finger, and she looks up to find his gaze flickering all over her face at a desperate speed. His fingers push her hair back on each side, and his thumbs brush over her skin as if searching for the answers. "Are you alright?"

Her brow furrows in uncertainty of how to answer. Sure, she is physically fine, despite the pending bruise that will most likely form from Derek's tight grip on her arm. But her heart, mind, and soul are in pieces. Not over Derek, per say. No, what hurts is the fact that this happened at all, that she let it happen, that she didn't see it coming in the first place. What hurts is that she has been in that situation before, years ago as a child, and still saw no signs in her most recent relationship. But what hurts the most, is the thought of what might have happened if her daughter had not stayed in her room.

"Cass. Breathe with me. Inhale for ten, remember?" His soft voice encourages, though the perceived gentle tone is wrapped with wavering confidence. "Cassidy… please, breathe with me."

Would Cecelia have seen what was happening, and understood? Would Derek have hurt her even more with her daughter present? Would he have hurt her daughter?

Pain and guilt strike every nerve in her body. She, of all people, should have seen signs. She, of all people, should have been able to avoid that situation. She, of all people, should have been able to keep that potential danger out of her child's life.

"C-... Cece…"

"Cece is fine. She's asleep. Mrs. Clarkson just checked on her before she left." She hears the words, though muffled by her racing thoughts. Warmth covers her cheeks again and her head begins to tilt by Harry's hand, raising her blurry gaze to find one of pure concern. "Cass, look at me. Cece is fine."

"I… let… let him… around her." She begins, eyes filling, unbelievably, with even more tears. "I let him… around my daughter!"

A silence fills the room, leaving only Harry's calm breaths left to encourage the regulation of her own. The heat on her cheeks travels to her hands, and she looks down to see them wrapped up in his.

"Inhale for ten." He whispers, taking a breath with her. "And let it out."

"I'm-"

"Please, love. Breathe." He demands in the most tender way, causing her gaze to shoot back up to his. "Breathe with me."

She nods, taking in air with Harry and holding it in as he holds her hands.

"I'm so… stupid." She states, releasing an exhale as she finally feels her lungs open and her chest release the tight hold it has around her heart.

"You're not stupid."

"I should have known." Her brow furrows, an anger towards herself rising to replace her panic as she catches more breaths. "And what's worse? I liked him. I mean… there were things that bugged me, things I questioned a little… but I kept seeing him!"

Harry's hands squeeze her own, so subtly, and she hears his throat clear as he pulls them away. His body moves around and takes a seat beside her, his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together.

"You just… wanted someone… to share life with." He utters sombrely.

"The wrong someone."

"They're all 'the wrong someone' until we find the right one…" He states, a little chuckle following his words, clearly a little pleased with how philosophical his statement came across.

Cassidy releases an amused exhale and feels the tension of her body begin to loosen.

"And even then…" He adds, giving a small yet noticeable shrug. "Love is… complicated."

"I wasn't in love." She instantly replies, certain of that fact, even with the night's events aside. "I've… I've actually never been in love."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry's posture straighten and his gaze shoot over to her.

"Really?"

She is unsure as to why, but his sudden reaction and the following question have her feeling embarrassment flood over her.

"Have you?"

"I think so." He replies, his hand reaching up and fingers readjusting the clip on his curls.

"Isn't that something you should know?" She asks, watching as his lips pull inward, and noticing something she has very rarely seen in him, if at all. Vulnerability.

"Is it really love if…" He releases a subtle sigh, and as she looks over, she sees him begin to twist his fingers of one hand around those of the other, as if his rings were still adorning them. "If… it's not reciprocated?"

Cassidy opens her mouth with nothing to say. She's never felt that way about somebody. Anybody. The relationship that should have been her example for love had all but destroyed the hopes she had for finding it. She may not even know how to do it properly. Then when Cecelia came along, there wasn't really a need for it. Though that is a different love. Nonetheless, she feels sad for Harry. Knowing how generous and caring he is with his friends and family, with her and Cecelia, she can only imagine how much more he would give to someone he felt that strongly for. And for it to not be returned? She's surprised he hasn't given up hope. She sure wants to, the little she even had to begin with.

"You… probably shouldn't ask me…" She utters, wrapping her arms around to hold herself, and staring down as her fingers gently run over the large red mark that's been left behind.

"Okay. I won't." He states suddenly, slapping his palms against his thighs and pushing himself off of the sofa. Cassidy looks up to him with surprise and curiosity, seeing the formation of a mischievous little smirk. "I'll make us some tea instead."

He walks into the kitchen, doing his best not to clang things around as he retrieves two tea cups from the cabinet and adds water to the kettle.

"You know what though? We're forgetting something…"

"And what's that?" Cassidy asks, repositioning herself to get him into view.

"We are married."

Her eyebrow instantly raises, and her eyes flicker all over the room in an attempt to gather some sort of clarification, though obviously unable to do so.

"I'm sorry… what?"

"Shit. I'm an idiot." He replies sheepishly, a pink hue evident under the kitchen lights. "Of course, you don't remember."

"Remember what?" She inquires, only to be met with a timid shake of his head as the colour on his cheeks grows brighter. "Clue me in, Harry."

"Nope, there's been too many trips down memory lane recently, most at my expense."

"No, you have to tell me! Please?" She asks, channeling the sweetest her daughter uses whenever she needs persuasion to tip the scales in her favour.

He closes his eyes and pulls his lips inward, and Cassidy can't help but giggle under her breath as she watches him prepare to respond.

"Alright. Well, one afternoon, when we were kids… you and Gem were playing fairies." He shares, followed by a sort of grunt as he takes in a breath to divulge more. "Gem wanted to have this elaborate fairy wedding, so she made you the princess… the bride… but you needed a groom. So she found me and-"

"Dressed you up to be the fairy prince!" Cassidy exclaims, immediately covering her mouth in an effort to quiet her new excitement. "I do remember now! Didn't she put glitter all over your face?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember that specific detail…" He gripes, pouring the hot water into the cups, and lifting them as he starts to walk back to the sofa. He hands the hot beverage to Cassidy, and carefully lowers himself back down next to her, taking a sip of his tea before resting it down on the table in front of him.

"Well, the wedding was pretty magical." She states. Harry lifts his head, turning it slightly towards her with a proud smile stretched across his face.

"Bit of a rocky marriage though." He points out, and Cassidy's jaw drops dramatically as she swats his arm, causing his hands to be thrown up in surrender.

"That's because the prince was, and still is, kind of a twat."

Harry mimics her offended reaction, his hand flying to this against his chest, as if physically pained by her insult.

"The princess is still kind of a pain in the ass herself."

"Well, thank goodness it wasn't official!"

"Umm, excuse me, but if I remember correctly, the ceremony was done with a magic wand." He states, so matter-of-fact. "That's binding."

"Oh bloody hell." She replies, pinching the bridge of her nose, annoyed but mostly amused by the declaration.

"You're stuck with me, Cass." Harry grins, most likely from his perceived triumph of the argument, yet Cassidy can't help but feel as if he is happy with the sentiment as well. With the notion that she has to put up with him and have him around, in some capacity, forever.

She wants to lean into her instincts and make some jab about how she regrets ever putting on the fairy tutu Gemma had made her wear. But as she focuses on the green of his eyes, she feels a heat run up her neck and hit the apples of her cheeks. She's flattered by his desire to continue to be friends throughout the rest of their lives, and she has to agree that she wants the same. Despite all of their childhood torment of each other, he truly has become one of her best friends, and she can't really envision him not being around. For her and for Cecelia.

A sudden thud from the corridor outside of her flat causes Cassidy's gaze to shoot over to the front door, her lungs to gasp, her arm to swiftly stretch out to her side, and her hand to latch right onto Harry's thigh.

"Hey, it's alright." She hears him say softly, her eyes unable to focus on anything but the front door. One strong, warm palm sets on top of hers, the other begins to run up and down her back, tearing her gaze away and back onto the man beside her. The friend beside her. "You're alright."

She feels her expression go from panicked to pained, and she feels hot tears trickling down her cheeks. Another feeling, an odd feeling, begins to overwhelm her, as if her body is being pulled between alarmed tension and settled ease. The noise outside has clearly triggered an unfortunately familiar response, and yet somehow it is also being so effortlessly drawn to a comforted state. By Harry.

"Would you like me to stay for a bit? We can watch a show or something."

Cassidy nods, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins, though the intensity is decreasing as she watches Harry's caring gaze stay fixed on her, almost displaying relief with her unspoken response.

"Okay, then." He replies, pulling his lips inward, attempting to disguise a small smile that still manages to peek through by the corners of his mouth. He leans forward, grabbing the remote, and settling back into the cushions as he turns the television on.

Cassidy watches him while he scrolls, and something about such a mundane moment begins to bring her a slight amount of peace. She realizes that he seems to be one of the people, one of only a few people, who does that for her. Who actually can do that for her. And she needs all the peace she can get right now.

"Harry?" She practically whispers.

"Yes?" He replies, the light of the screen brightening his face and reflecting in his eyes as he scrolls through the viewing options.

"Would… would you… maybe, also…" She utters, clearing her throat to gain some volume, and confidence, for her next request. "Stay the night?"

His head immediately turns to her, his eyes wide, yet leaving her unable to determine what emotion is behind them. What thoughts could be causing them to react that way.

"Of course I will!" He exclaims, and more tears start to gather on her lash line at how quickly he answered, and how willing he is to do what she wants. What she needs.

He turns away, reaching to the other side of him, and twists back with one of her large blankets in hand. Cassidy scoots closer to Harry as he holds it up for her, allowing him to place the blanket on both of their laps. His arm stretches behind her on the back on the sofa, and without thinking, she leans into him, the movement of their adjustments causing her senses to be hit with his scent. It's the same as it's always been, but tonight it includes an increased, soothing element.

A few muffled noises outside momentarily grab her attention, her head slightly pointing in the direction of their origin on the other side of her front door. She lets out an exhale, louder than intended, and then feels the slightest squeeze around her shoulders.

"Are you alright? Comfortable?"

"As much as I can be, I suppose." She chuckles, accompanied by a scoff of disappointment and frustration, wishing she was able to truly calm down.

"You can… sit back up if you need to…" He utters, and she feels him begin to slowly pull away. "I can grab another blanket, or-"

She sits up, but only slightly, and only so she can meet the green eyes that are now filled with concern and uncertainty.

"No, it's not that. I just… I just don't know if I'll be able to relax fully here." She responds with a sigh, acknowledging that the events of the evening have taken their toll on her physical and mental state.

"Stay with me, then."

"What?"

"Come stay at my place."

"Harry, it's way too late." She states, confused as to his thought process behind the suggestion. "And Cece is sleeping."

"Not tonight." He replies, a bit of amusement to his tone. "Tomorrow. Pack up some things for the both of you, and just spend a few days there."

"I don't know. I don't want to impose-"

"You're not. I offered." He interrupts, seemingly annoyed yet entertained by her attempt to not inconvenience him, despite his constant reminders that she's not. This situation just feels a bit different for her. He's not responsible for making this situation any better. Yet, here he is, doing just that.

"And it's very sweet." She smiles, unintentionally, and feels a heat on her cheeks as he smiles back. "But also unnecessary. We'll be okay."

"Truth be told… I need it." He begins, bringing his balled up fist to his mouth as he clears his throat. "I won't be able to fully relax, unless I can see it… see that you're okay."

Cassidy is instantly hit with so many things at once. Her lips shut tight as she tries to swallow the lump that has instantly formed in her throat, her face tingles with the vibrant blush that has suddenly spread from her cheeks, and her abdomen tightens with something she can't quite understand.

"It would help me." He utters, a sudden timidity taking over the confidence he first used with his suggestion. "You don't have to."

"Well-" She tries to speak.

What is this feeling? What is going on in the pit of her stomach?

"But I'd like you to."

It's butterflies.

"Okay." She accepts, feeling her heart race with positivity, for the first time tonight. "If you insist."

Series Masterlist

•••

If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 🩷 Bee xx

•••

Overall Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @harrystylesrecs @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran @one-sweet-gubler @jerseygirlinca @carey86 @lomlhstyles @vrittivsanghavi @fdl305 @sunflowersloverr

[harrysfolklore]

hellooo! i love ur ig povs

i was wondering if u could do one with matilda djerf

HARRYS HOUSE IS OUT NOOOWWWW, and of course i did a blurb about it, enjoy! of course i picked her bc theres a song on the album called matilda

IF YOU LIKE WHAT I POST, CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME <3

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 298,637 others

yourinstagram good morning new york city, harry’s house is dropping tonight and i’m trying to look collected but i’m not

view all 26,536 comments

harryfan1 SAMEEE

gemmastyles I’m dying over here

↳ yourinstagram like that’s our baby

annetwist ❤️❤️

harryfan2 you’re listening to it on that picture aren’t you

↳ yourinstagram i’m following my tradition of listening to harry’s albums when they’re released 🥰

↳ harryfan3 SHES SO REAL

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 1,986 others

harryupdates Harry via YN instagram stories ! And also a sneak peek of the pop up shop

view all 765 comments

harryfan1 she’s the luckiest person alive

harryfan2 i love that they’ve been dating for 12 years now but she still gets excited like any other fan

↳ harryfan3 she’s just like us but she actually gets to date him

harryfan4 i can’t wait for the pop up

liked by yourinstagram, lizzobeeating and 6,783,975 others

harrystyles See you everywhere at midnight.

view all 106,739 comments

harryfan1 IM GOING TO CRY

jefezoff 🥺🥺

harryfan2 I CANT BELIEVE ITS COMING

yourinstagram I LOVE YOU

yourinstagram so proud of you in every single way, bubs. HARRY’S HOUSE TONIGHTTTT LETS GO

↳ harryfan3 i’m crying she’s the best

annetwist So excited ❤️

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 2,096 others

harryupdates Harry via instagram stories !

view all 987 comments

harryfan1 OMGGG

harryfan2 he’s so cuuuuuute

harryfan3 i’m so happy he’s posting stories regularly 😢

harryfan4 THE HOUSE STICKER IM GOING TO CRY

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 301,789 others

yourinstagram CHEERS TO HARRY’S HOUSE THE ALBUM OF THE YEAR

view all 27,896 comment

harryfan1 LAJSKA BESTIEEE

harryfan2 what’s your favorite song?

↳ yourinstagram MATILDA

annetwist Best of the best ❤️

harrystyles We’ve been doing all this late night drinking xx

↳ harryfan1 HES SOOO

↳ harryfan2 a comedian

↳ yourinstagram 😭😭 i love you

liked by yourinstagram, maggierogers and 7,659,053 others

harrystyles Harry’s House. Out now.

view all 109,728 comments

harryfan1 SO PROUD OF YOU

harryfan2 BEST ALBUM EVER

yourinstagram i love you. thank you for all the ways you’ve made me proud for the past 12 years. you’re the most important person in my life, bubs 🥺

↳ harryfan3 i’m crying

↳ harryfan4 this is how i feel about harry too

annetwist ❤️❤️

liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 305,876 others

yourinstagram if you thought that i wasn’t going to post something long and sappy about harry’s house, we’ll you thought wrong.

 this is the 3rd time i get to be by your side when you release an album, and every single time i’ve been flooded with the same bittersweet feelings, the happiness and pride to see you achieving your dreams, and the nostalgia when i look back and realize that it has been a long road. 

harry, i love you so much, thank you for letting me be part of this journey and just being you, you’re a light for me and all those who love you.

harry’s house is out now 🥺

view all 26,877 comments

harryfan1 i’m CRYING

harryfan2 this is so sweet, she’s the best 

gemmastyles Not you making me cry 😢

harrystyles You’re the reason behind all of this. Thank you. I love you x ❤️

↳ harryfan1 I CANT

↳ harryfan2 this is absolutely adorable

jefezoff ❤️❤️

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @maria-r @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @evanjh @daydreamingmathilda @sunflowervolume66 @lollypopsx @multiplums @89evrs @trulymadlykiki i  @piscesrecord @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ivegotparticulartaste @springholland @harryhoney-bee @harrysgloves @ayeshathestyles @comfort-reads @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @sleutherclaw @vodka-is-gay-and-so-am-i

[dakotawalter]

Replies to this Niall Horan tweet because niall stans are the funniest.

[luvrxbunny]

“this thing upon me, howls like a beast…

you flower.

you feast.”

- Harry Styles (Woman)

[lilystyles]

wildest dreams.

part two of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist & style masterlist

authors note the very requested part two of style. i got lots of asks & reblogs & comments asking for more of style!H so i decided to write one for y'all. thanks for all the love on it. also there was one ask i got with the idea of y/n going on a blind date and i LOVED it so thank u anon 🩷

brief description y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn’t like it one bit.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (f!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, missionary, riding, very slight breeding kink, no condom, all the good stuff) sexual tension, mentions of drugs&alcohol abuse. wordcount: (around 15k words)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry arrived at Y/n’s massive and buzzing share house almost twenty minutes before eight.

He’d parked his car nearby and quietly realised to himself on the walk up the driveway that he’d never actually been inside the sharehouse before. He had dropped her off a fair few times and picked her up a handful from here but Y/n preferred to come stay at his place. He couldn’t blame her, Niall’s place was similar he lived in one of the frats nearby campus. His room and the house were disgusting and Harry much preferred his clean quiet house with his sister. Even though Harry was in a frat too, he lived out of the house. The only reason those guys had welcomed him into the frat in the first place was because he was on the Uni soccer team and he was really good. His room was turned into a storage room for alcohol, dartboards, and bongs. Harry had hooked up with a few girls in there regardless of the lack of bed.

He felt a funny feeling in his tummy walking up the driveway, since when did he get nervous? He’d been with so many people he didn’t think that existed for him anymore. But this was different, this wasn’t just anyone this was Y/n. His Y/n. The girl from home.

He looked up at the house biting his lip, Y/n’s place certainly wasn’t as trashy as Alpha Chi Sigma, thankfully. Hers was a little ways off campus it was this old run-down brick house with two stories and eight rooms. It was jam-packed with students and actually threw quite a few parties, known on campus for its great big backyard and one of Y/n’s roommate Mike's weed brownies. Y/n didn’t care all that much when parties happened, she’d either invite Emma and they’d have lots of tequila and end up asleep in Y/n’s room, or she might even invite Harry and his mates too just for fun. Otherwise she just locked her room and escaped to the library or the Styles’ place. 

As Harry reached the big red door he knocked loudly and a short girl opened the door before his knuckles had even retracted back to his side. He recognised her from his Economics class, he thought. She was in some pyjamas and looked up very confused.

“You're not the Chinese guy.” She said eyeing him annoyedly, groans escaped the mouths of others inside, and he could understand their disappointment. “Who are you?”

This made Harry feel suddenly rather guilty for not being the Chinese delivery guy and he frowned, “I’m Harry, ‘m a friend of Y/n’s?”

“Upstairs third door to your left.” She said shortly opening the door wide enough to let him in before promptly sitting back down on the couch with a bunch of other students, they were watching what looked like a Japanese horror film. 

Harry shut the door behind him and made his way upstairs quickly, Y/n’s roommates didn’t seem all that friendly, he hoped was going in the right direction. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard music coming from one room that sounded like a rave and knew that definitely wasn’t Y/n’s room, he heard people chatting away in another, and when he was at the third door he saw a small sign on the door that said ‘Y/n’s Room <3’. He smiled at the familiar neat handwriting that was on so many birthday cards in his collection, and knocked on the door, with a few quick taps.

He heard some shuffling behind the door and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. There she was, his Y/n. Even though he’d only seen her a few hours ago it felt like a long time ago now. How did he already miss her?

“You're here early, Styles.” She said surprised checking the time on her phone in her hand. Harry didn’t seem the type to show up early, and normally he didn’t Y/n knew that about him from years of experience. He was even late to his own birthday parties and if you asked a single person who had hooked up with him they’d say he was always late when they invited him over. Just his way. He wasn’t a timely person.

Harry smiled down at her form, she looked much more rested than this morning. She had taken a nap for a good portion of the morning and a long shower cleaning every inch of herself, she felt very rejuvenated now. The warm water had soothed her aching muscles and small bruises that littered her body from last night. She’d washed off all the sweat and alcohol that had sweated out of her this morning, and her hangover had eased, thank god. She had taken some aspirin for her head too and drank lots and lots of water. 

She looked so soft and cosy, the golden light of her room hit her face, showing all the angles of her calm expression. She was wearing this matching tracksuit set that was a blue almost grey colour, and some fuzzy pink socks Emma bought her for Christmas last year. Her hair was freshly washed, dried, and styled in her usual way. Her beautiful face was bare of makeup only some moisturiser that smelt really good, and her lips were covered in a glossy lip balm.

“Wanted to make a good impression, Babe.” He said smirking. 

Y/n let him join her inside shaking her head, it was very unlike him to be on time and she’d expected he would arrive around 8:30 instead of 8. He placed his bag of snacks and DVDs down onto her little bed taking in the space. 

Her room was so her, she had this big mattress on the floor that took up most of her room. Her sheets were mismatched shades of pink, blue, and lavender and she had about a dozen pillows. She had lots of fairy lights strung up, posters, and photos covering her walls. Her mattress and little desk by her window near the back of the room took up most of the small space. But if she had picked a bigger room that meant having a roommate so she didn’t mind all that much.

It was quite neat in here. She had all her desk organised with her laptop and textbooks. Her cupboard had somehow miraculously shut despite the large array of clothes stuffing it. She had a candle burning that smelt like cinnamon cookies, but underneath the candle was the underlying smell of her. Whether that was her laundry detergent or something that was just her, Harry didn’t know, but the smell brought him great comfort.

He shrugged off his big thick coat too, the day had turned into a windy-rainy one and he wanted to stay warm, but Y/n’s room was very warm inside. He was in an ashen grey hoodie with red flannel over the top, some black jeans and sneakers. His hair was unruly as always but he looked extra good today. He made himself comfortable on the bed grabbing a pink bear and cuddling it to his chest playfully. He dwarfed her bed with his tall form, and he looked so funny sitting in her bed. Harry Styles, sex god, player, and party animal, with a rotten attitude, was curled up in her bed. She almost wanted to take a picture to show people, but she knew she wouldn’t be telling a soul about him being with her tonight.

“I’ve known you for years I already have all the impressions needed, Harry.”

He looked over at her from her bed. “Yeah, but you’ve never seen me on a date before, have yeh? I can be wholesome.”

What? This is a date? 

Y/n blushed deeply, if she’d known that this was a date she would have dressed a bit nicer. She was just in some joggers and a hoodie, but to be fair to her they were her nice ones. The ones lacking ice cream stains and holes. Harry had seen her looking like a hungover mess, he’d seen her in the middle of the night at the library, he’d seen her with the flu, and she never looked bad even at her worst.

“This is a date?” She asked looking down at her sock-covered feet.

She’d been dreaming of this day since she was a kid when Harry had helped her when she fell off her bike and scraped her knee. She still remembered the day vividly, it was something she thought of every time they all went home to Holmes Chapel for the holidays or summertime, and they drove passed the playground. She still had the scar their on her right knee, even now. And she remembers Harry putting the bandaid on for her and kissing her knee to ‘take the pain away’. Every time she felt the little bump or saw the lighter patch of skin on her knee she thought of him kissing it. She’d stopped crying after he’d done that and from that day on, her heart belonged to him. 

She thought if they ever did somehow end up together on a date, that’d he would take her for a drive or they’d go to the cinema. Something normal. Maybe even a romantic stroll somewhere or something wild like skinny dipping. But instead here he was in her room making himself at home in her little bed where she’d spent hours thinking of him; before her eyes finally allowed her to sleep.

He laughed at her shy expression, patting a spot on the bed beside him for her to sit. “Wasn’t I obvious about that?”

She sat down beside him, laughing at herself she didn’t know much when it came to dating, she’d only had two or so boyfriends. She’d tried the one-night stand thing once but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t know dating etiquette. So she was all stiff beside him now feeling even more nervous than before he’d arrived. This whole thing with Harry frankly didn’t feel real, she’d liked him for so many years and only now was he starting to show similar feelings toward her, it honestly tripped her out a lot. It would be like your celebrity crush showing up at your door with flowers, a bit of a dream, right?

“Not to me.” She said looking at him. He smelt deliciously good beside her, and she wanted to devour him.

He looked over at her with the same eyes he’d given her in the kitchen when she’d comforted him, all soft and molten like an ice cream on a hot day. As he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned into his touch, his hand was so warm and smooth against her face. He was so gentle with her and she felt her mind flashback to last night for what felt like the millionth time when his hands were all over her body. Though they’d been a bit wild, he was always gentle with her unless she asked him otherwise.

“Well I’m sorry, but this is a date, is that alright with you?” He asked, nibbling his bottom lip to contain a smile. She was just so cute, sitting there in front of him like a doe-eyed little thing. You’d have thought that she barely knew him with how she was acting.

She nodded. “Fine by me.” 

“Good to hear, Baby.” He sighed at her because she still seemed very nervous. He didn’t know how to comfort her other than touch. “Why are you so far away? You know I don’t bite, not unless you ask me to.”

She looked over at him, “I’m just nervous, I guess. If my fourteen-year-old self could see me now…”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

This made his heart swell. “You're nervous around me? Even after everything we did last night?”

She shrugged like that was an obvious conclusion. “Well, yeah…of course.”

This made him throw his head back laughing, like a little kid. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous too. S’okay to be nervous. But don’t worry it’s just me. Nothing special.”

That made her feel better, she looked up at him, a smile cracking on her face. “You're nervous too?”

He nodded. “Of course I am. I’m on a date with a gorgeous girl, I’d be a fool not to be.”

Y/n pecked his cheek in response, her lips smearing against the tiny stubble on his cheek, as she quickly moved away and opened the bag excitedly to see the things he’d brought. He brought snacks as requested all their favourites (peanut M&Ms, popcorn, and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s) along with a few DVDs. The one he had been raving about was in there and she grabbed it putting it on the very small telly she had by the end of her bed.

Harry explained a story about how he went to three different grocery shops to find the peanut M&Ms because apparently, the world was in a shortage today. This made Y/n want to kiss him because he’d gone to all that effort knowing Y/n’s favourite movie snack was M&Ms. Whenever they went to the cinema she always got them, and the three of them would go a fair amount. They loved going late at night and talking loudly in empty cinemas about how cheesy the films were. 

She looked at him from the edge of the bed. He’d kicked his sneakers off into the corner and he was resting on her bed, head lying on her pillow, a knitted blanket over his lap. He looked very comfy and at ease, and honestly, he was. The smell of her bed was comforting and the soft tone of her voice was soothing. Y/n had a way of driving him crazy, usually when her attention wasn’t on him, but a way of calming him instantly when their eyes met.

“You hungry? I want pizza.” She asked brows pinched in thought.

He nodded grabbing his phone to call them. “Sure. Joeys?”

“I think I want a ha—”

“Hawaiin with no pineapple, I know, you freak. Who doesn’t like pineapple?”

“Me.” She said. She’d never really noticed how observant Harry was until now. He knew her pizza order, he knew she liked peanut M&Ms, he knew her chamomile tea brand, and he knew she liked popcorn extra buttery. Which happens when you have history like they do, but she never thought he cared that much. So what if she knew he liked pepperoni with extra spice? She was obsessed with him for most of her adolescence, that made sense. But why did Harry know that? She was the obsessed one.

“Hey mate, yeah can I get a large Hawaiin no pineapple please, and large pepperoni extra spicy, and a loaf of garlic bread too thanks.” He said into the phone. 

Y/n told Harry her address in a hushed tone and he parroted it to the pizza guy on the phone. The pizza would arrive in 20 minutes from now, so Y/n joined his side happily and hit play on the telly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder so she could rest against his side, and it all felt very domestic. Her cheek was resting against him and she felt her eyes drooping even though she’d already napped today.

Y/n normally cuddled with Emma and watched movies on her shoulder while Harry brooded on the leather recliner and complained when the girls picked a rom-com of some kind. But she saw him cry during The Notebook last month. He always said Spiderman was his favourite movie but she knew it was actually The Notebook.

She felt guilty at the thought of her best friend, and a pang in her tummy. Normally if a guy had even made eye contact with her Y/n was blowing up her phone with every detail, that’s what best friends are for. But she couldn’t tell her about Harry. They’d stop being friends. Emma and Y/n had many friends who had come and gone because of Harry, she didn’t blame any of them for shagging him. He’s always been attractive and shaggable, but she knew better than to get with him then and she didn’t know what had done it but lately, he’d just been irresistible last night and right now. 

Maybe back then she just had more self-control. Y/n remembers a girl named Cami the most. She and Harry hooked up once drunkenly at a party Gemma had thrown while Anne and Robin were away and the next morning Emma and Y/n walked in on her giving him a blowie. Cami was then banned from any other sleepover. Which was a shame because Cami was super nice, it made Y/n wonder if those years of friendship protected her from Emma’s harsh banishment or if that didn’t count. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He asked her playing with the strands of loose hair resting against his arm.

She looked up at him away from the telly she’d zoned out on. “I- Em.” She said.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I knew it would be something you’d be thinking about.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I just- she’s gonna hate me, H. I want you, but you know I can’t.”

Harry knew Emma was Y/n’s number one person and they were basically like sisters, Y/n was a part of his family, though he’d never seen her in a particularly brotherly way. She came on holidays overseas with them, she was invited to family dinners, and they’d even had a Christmas Eve together a few times in the past couple of years. And that wasn’t something he would ever try and get in the way of, Y/n being there was what made him want to attend. Because he loved that Y/n was a part of his life in that way and he’d grown up with her, he loved having her around. He cherished those moments and even though he didn’t act like it, he would miss her when she wasn’t there. Last Christmas Eve she was with her Grandparents and he’d hated playing Scrabble without her.

She had no idea of any of his true feelings. Which was his own fault, he knew that, he was purposefully rude to Y/n to keep her at arm's length, and acting like she didn’t exist to try and suffocate his feelings from her. Emma was behind that, ever since he could remember he wasn’t allowed to share Y/n. Emma was always reminding him when his eyes lingered on her longer than they should, that Y/n was Emma’s best friend, off limits. And despite how he felt about her he’d listened to keep Y/n out of the drama of Emma’s wrath. 

But Harry cared for Y/n very deeply and he wished Emma wasn’t so weird about it. Why couldn’t they both just share her? And anyway, it was Y/n’s decision, not Emma’s. She wasn't a toy she was a person, who made her own decisions whether or not Emma approved. Normally Emma’s judgement was the only thing Y/n needed to make a decision, but when it came to Harry she had to disagree.

And anyway, she seemed pretty happy to be wrapped up in his arms right now, despite knowing what trouble it would cause if anyone found out. She knew it was wrong to lie, and hide, but she didn't think it was wrong be around Harry. That's what felt right.

“I know she doesn’t like people getting involved with me.” He began, “But that’s only because they always get hurt by me and it becomes a whole thing. But I would never hurt you.”

His reassuring words made her feel better but she looked up at him, with one more worry. “How is this any different than you and Cami, Lacey, or Tiffany—” She was about to continue her long list of girls but he cut her off.

“Because you're the only one for me.”

Y/n was about to ask him what he meant by that but the doorbell rang. “That’s probably pizza.” 

She sat up and left before he could say anything else. 

She was happy to be with him and she enjoyed his company and his cuddles but this whole thing scared her a lot. There were a lot of risks in going down this path with him and she was painfully aware of all the risks, she knew every single one and the reason she hadn’t gotten with him before now was because she knew it was dangerous for her to get involved with such a gorgeous devilish creature. 

Don’t get her wrong she trusted Harry with her life. But that doesn’t mean she trusted him when it came to his relationships. He’d never had a girlfriend, all the girls thought they were his girlfriends but he never saw any of them as more than a shag. Which is fine, but she knew she couldn’t be satisfied with just a shag. Her heart was too soft for that boy to only want his dick.

When Y/n came back with the warm pizzas burning her hands Harry was sleepily cuddling her bear in bed and she felt her heart melt and let her thoughts melt away too. They ate the pizza in bed and all worries were washed away as they distracted themselves with Y/n’s favourite film. When Harry Met Sally. 

Harry remembered the countless times this movie was on at midnight when he came downstairs to see Y/n asleep on his couch using it to tune out Emma’s snores.

Her eyes stung with sleep as she watched tonight, it comforted her, and the smell of Harry and the gentle sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. She fell asleep quickly into the movie and Harry only noticed when he was getting no replies from her during his complaints about how cheesy and unrealistic this movie was. When he realised she was asleep right there on his chest he stopped talking and moving; wanting to let her sleep there. He grabbed the knitted blanket from the bottom of their legs and brought it to just below her chin. 

Kissing her forehead before focusing back on the movie. He thought Meg Ryan was pretty fit and the gentle breathing of Y/n was calming, it wasn’t long until he fell asleep too holding her very close to him. Not a worry about being caught, or oversleeping, just enjoyed the warmth of her body and the soft breaths that hit his neck.

It was a couple weeks later until Harry saw Y/n again and he hated to admit it to himself that he missed her, more than he’d ever missed anyone and it had just been a few days. She wasn't even his girlfriend, and she was already driving him up the wall.

She’d called him that afternoon and it brought out something in Harry he’d never expected to find within himself.

Harry was not a jealous person. He wasn’t possessive at all. Never had been and he never thought he would be. It just wasn’t who he was. He always thought it was because he just never had those feelings within him, he just didn’t care. He thought jealousy was stupid. What good came from it? Jealousy never accomplished anything.

He didn’t care if the people he’d been with had moved on or gotten with someone else, one time a girl he’d had a bit of a fling with for the Summer ended up hooking up with his best friend and he truly didn’t care. Like at all. They expected him to get angry, shout, or stop talking to them at least. But he didn’t he just shrugged and said something about how he understood. He found someone else to spend the night with quickly after their conversation, and when someone brought it up he completely forgot it had even happened, which shows how little he cared.

He just never got jealous, and it was something he felt was beneath him. Since he saw sex as such a casual and easygoing thing to him, he felt like he belonged to everyone and no one all at once and so he saw people as all the same. It was all just a blur of people and feelings. He was lucky, he never got sad after sex or disgusted he just felt a release, left, and that was that. He didn’t like to chat all that much, he was a fuck and leave kind of guy. If the person really needed a cuddle or some aftercare he wouldn’t just leave right away but he knew cuddling usually meant feelings growing, so he tried to avoid that at all costs too. Which to some was just awful to be around, and he could understand that too. Sometimes people wanted a connection that wasn’t just compatible kinks or sexual chemistry. Something deeper, love, burning lust, tenderness. That’s not to say Harry wasn’t a good lover, he was great no matter the person he could click well with them. He made them feel like they were the only two people in the world, but there was still a bit of a shadow to his love-making that made the people know that’s all it was.

Just a fuck, just a kiss, just an orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’d heard or read about people having sex that felt like fireworks or magic or something ridiculous and sappy and he’d thought it was all blown out of proportion. Sex was more primal and animalistic to Harry. It wasn’t something otherworldly. It was like eating, sleeping, or breathing. It was just a natural human experience and urge, and people needed it to survive a healthy life. It wasn’t tied to any emotions, just like eating a sandwich at lunch. Wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either.

And it certainly wasn’t ethereal, or at least it wasn’t until Y/n.

He hadn’t felt so connected with someone like that ever. In conversation, in sex, in life. She understood him, she accepted him, and despite their differences, it worked. And god, when they had sex it was just so time-stopping. Touching her was like touching heaven.

His jealousy, his attraction, made him realise he liked her. Like actually liked her, and that if this was what liking someone was that meant he never had before. He’d never liked anyone except her. 

He’d never wanted to date someone, take care of them, and be with them without having to do anything. Just be together, you know?

Harry wanted to date Y/n, take care of her, and just be with her. The unfamiliar feelings rolled through his skin like a tidal wave. All these feelings were new to him, and it meant he didn’t know how to act. It was overwhelming and he didn’t know who to confide in.

Because now all of a sudden he was a jealous person? It just didn’t make sense. None of it did. 

When he found out Emma had set Y/n up on a double date with her and Zayn, Harry was not one bit okay with it. He couldn’t have cared less if someone he’d been with fucked his best friend in front of him, but the idea of someone thinking they could talk to Y/n made his skin crawl. Someone getting to touch her like she’d let him, someone getting to kiss her sweet lips, whisper filth in her ear? He hated it. He hated the thought. 

Jealousy burned his skin like wildfire and he didn’t know what to do. He knew Y/n wasn’t his girlfriend, but they’d been on a date now which meant more to him than any other interaction with any girl he’d ever had. It had been a perfect first date that eventually led to her falling asleep in his arms and him playing with her hair as he memorised every freckle on her face. They both woke up the next morning with a giggle and she walked him to his car her hand in his, and to his surprise kissed him against the hood of his car. It was enough to have him dazed and wanting more, her lips smeared against his excitedly with an innocent giggle. When she pulled away she whispered a breathless goodbye and he hadn’t seen her since.

They’d called a few times and chatted until the early hours of the morning about anything and everything, and he’d seen her at his house a few times. But he wasn’t allowed to act how he wished because Emma was always there, he’d always call Y/n when she was home complaining about how he wished things were different. But since neither of them knew what was going on yet they knew it was best to not tell her.

Y/n didn’t want to go on this double date. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Zayn’s friend Peter was a notorious prick on campus. He was just straight-up horrible and so jarring on the senses. They’d met here and there and Niall hated him too which was enough for Y/n to know everything she needed about the bloke.

Y/n was pretty sure no one liked him, not even Zayn. But Y/n agreed for Emma’s sake. She knew Emma really liked Zayn (or so she said) and this was one of ‘the only ways their date would happen’. But that didn’t make her not want to go. She called Harry as soon as Emma left her place to get ready. 

He answered on the third ring.

“Hi, Baby.”

She could practically hear his smile. Things were going well for them. She thought the shift from whatever they once were to this would be awkward but it was easy. They were still teasing, and rude, but the words hardly had any edge anymore. Even when she swore at him it felt like a kiss and now when he stared at her Y/n noticed the softness in his eyes. Had that always been there?

“Hey, Styles.”

He sighed softly sitting down on his couch, “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Y/n?”

“Some bad news.”

He sucked a breath, “What’s wrong?” His voice melted into her spine, and he sounded worried. He was thinking the worst, and though this was pretty shitty it was nothing like he was thinking. He hoped she was okay.

“You know I like you, right?”

He nodded but forgot she couldn’t see. “Yes, I like you too, what is it?”

“I’m sorry, H, but I didn’t know how to say no without blowing our cover…” She said avoiding saying it. She didn’t know how he would react. He’d been so lovely, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Spit it out, Trouble.” He said.

“Emma begged me to go on a double date so she could be with Zayn.” She said pinching her eyes shut and practically wincing on the other line.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes, I’m sorry,”

Harry felt a pang of jealousy rush into his chest unfamiliarly. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She sounded so guilty over the line, he was just glad she couldn’t see him. He was embarrassingly jealous. He felt winded as his hand moved up to his chest, squeezing where the pain was. Normally he always knew the right things to say, but he struggled to find the words. He was just pissed.

Emma, totally got in the way time and time again. It’s like she was out to sabotage them. He wanted to tell her off, but he knew better. Y/n would be mad if he did that.

“It’s fine, we only went on one date.” He said, but it didn’t come out like he wanted. He wanted to sound aloof and fine. But his voice came out forced.

Y/n sighed, he was right they had only been on one date. But she felt that it had meant more to her than any other dates she’d been on. And she was sure it would mean way more than this stupid date. “I know. But I wanted to tell you that I don’t like Peter. I hate that guy actually, he’s a fuckin’ prick….” 

Harry despised Peter. Even more now. He got to be with Y/n all pretty in public on a date, Harry knew no one would treat her as well as he could. Harry knew what she wanted. What did Peter know?

“...But Emma asked me. And if I’d have said I was seeing someone else, involved in something serious, she would have drilled me like a Russian spy. You know that it’s very surprising for me to be seeing someone, she wouldn’t have let it go.”

Something serious. His heart swelled despite it all.

Harry let out a small laugh, “It’s okay, Y/n, really.”

“I don’t want to go, but it’s only for a few hours. Can I call you after?”

This made him smile, despite how pissed he was she was so cute. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Okay, good, well I have to get ready, Styles, talk soon.” She said.

“Bye, Trouble” He hung up and his hands itched to do something. But he knew he couldn’t do anything he’d just have to wait for her call. The whole thing made him antsy. 

Just as he hung up Emma walked through the front door. She was holding some shopping bags.

“What are you up to?” He asked. They looked like clothes and shoes.

She looked over with a smile. “Me and Y/n have a double date.”

He acted surprised standing up, “Oh yeah? With who?”

“Zayn and Peter.” She said walking to her room and Harry followed, wanting to know more details he’d been too afraid to ask Y/n.

“When?”

“Tonight, at seven,” Emma replied quickly hands looking through her racks of dresses, eyes far from Harry who had sat himself on her bed.

“Where?” He prodded.

She looked over, “What is this? 21 questions? Why do you care?”

“I’m not allowed to be interested in your life? Gosh, forgive me caring, Em.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought we’d grown out of the protective thing?”

“I just worry about you two. Boys are pigs.”

Emma sighed. “You would know.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be fine. It’s just at Andy’s Burgers. It’s super close to Y/n’s place. And your friends with those guys, you know they aren’t serial killers.”

His lips curled in disgust as his jaw clenched and defended himself. “Zayn is fine. Peter is not my friend at all. I hate him. He’s such a stupid twat. I don’t understand why would Y/n go out with him.”

Emma turned around her hands landing on her hips. “Because he’s hot and he’s supposed to have a big dick.”

This made Harry’s jaw clench hard. Peter better not try anything with Y/n, or he’d rip that dick off. “Why would Y/n care about something like that? Doesn’t she like guys with actual brain cells? Doesn't like her.”

Emma squinted, her brows pinching. “Like who, mate? It really is none of your business, Harry, we don’t question your awful taste. Anyway, I don’t see why you care? Y/n can get with whoever she wants.”

This made Harry’s stomach curl. No, she couldn’t. She could only be with him. He wanted her all to himself. No one was worthy of her, not even himself, but at least Y/n wanted him. She didn’t want Peter. She’d just told him he was a prick, she couldn’t want him.

Harry didn’t want anyone else, and he’d turned down a plethora of women and men since that night with Y/n in his bed. He’d avoided telling her that, to avoid upsetting her. He sat up, annoyed and beginning to feel his mind go on a loop of bad thoughts of Y/n with other people. Y/n kissing another boy. God, it made him feral with rage.

He shook himself out of the images pooling in his mind. “Whatever, I’m going to Niall’s. If you need me call me. Don’t let them drive you home if they’re drunk or summat.”

She nodded. “Thanks, H.”

He nodded getting up and leaving. “Bye, Em.”

“Catch ya.” She said. 

Harry grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and left. He was gonna blow off some steam with Niall. Anything to get his mind off Y/n sitting pretty beside that dickhead ginger Peter. Thoughts of Y/n drifted to the back of his mind as he played Mario Kart with Niall and talked shit about Niall’s new boyfriend Paddy, Niall met his mates last night and they’d been proper twats to him and Paddy tried to gaslight him later on when they got back to his flat. Niall ended up leaving in a fit of rage. Harry tried his best at giving advice, he wanted to confide in Niall about this whole Y/n thing but he knew it could blow up in his face. Not that he didn't trust Niall to keep it hushed.

Y/n’s thoughts however were on only Harry, she would do anything to be on a date with him right now. They could be sharing a milkshake and talking about music or their days, honestly with Harry she would be happy to watch paint dry, his company made anything infinitely better. He was fun, he was cheeky, and she could be herself.

But no, she wasn’t with Harry, she wasn’t having fun at all. And she could hardly be her normal self one bit. She had to be quiet and polite when all she wanted to do was roll her eyes and spit out what a dickhead this boy sitting in front of her was.

She was sat beside the stupid prick Peter sipping down this actually quite delicious peanut butter & chocolate shake that was new on the menu and munching on some fries to keep her lips and hands busy while he talked her ear off. She loved the food here. She and Emma came here all the time to study and eat their body weight in their fries which have this great chicken and spicy salt flavouring on.

She just wanted the date to be over. He was so dull. The only thing he’d talked about the entire date for the past hour was him. His father’s business, how he could’ve had a career in Hockey if he didn’t injure his knee in his final year of school, and then making jokes about his ‘big’ dick and laughing like the complete and utter Tory he was. Which Y/n knew was a load of crap because one time he’d sent it to Emma during their first year of Uni and it wasn’t horrible but it certainly wasn’t some magical penis like he was saying.

Even just by looking at his face, you could tell he had no idea where the clitoris was. (Harry knew where it was blindfolded and you could just by the cocky look on his gorgeous face).

Y/n honestly thought it would’ve been less painful to slam her head between a door repeatedly. Zayn and Emma were hitting it off from the other side of the booth. They were leaning in closer, giggling, flirting. She was happy for Emma, really she was, but she didn’t see why she or Peter had to come. They added nothing to this date.

She was thankful when dinner arrived, it meant the date was almost over. She dove into her burger eating quickly so she could make an excuse to not talk or look at Peter. She hoped if she finished quickly the date could end quickly too.

“Are you girls going to that party on Saturday?” Asked Zayn taking a sip of his strawberry shake.

Emma looked at Y/n swallowing her mouthful of cheesy fries. “That’s the one at Harry’s Frat. Niall’s idea.”

Y/n nodded, she’d only go if Harry did or Emma really wanted her there. “Oh, dunno. Maybe.”

Emma smiled. “It sounds fun. I love costume parties.”

Y/n sipped on her shake and looked down at her lap her phone had a message from Harry on it. She’d check when no one was looking. She thought it was cute that he was checking on her.

“Hate those guys though. So cocky.”

Y/n looked up and without thinking scoffed, staring him down. “Who Harry and Niall?”

Peter looked over. “Yeah. Think their god’s gift because their football team’s the most supported at the Uni. Bunch of twats.”

“Can’t be any worse than you.” She said, and Emma was surprised eyes widening from across the table, Y/n’s words held a bite. But she knew that despite Y/n’s soft timid nature, she did not put up with people saying rude things about people she cared about. She was generally a calm, soft, and kept to herself kind of person. But if someone said something she didn’t agree with she always spoke up. “At least their only point of conversation isn’t about their less-than-thrilling cocks and daddy’s money.” She rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Babe. It’s a joke. We are all mates here.” Said Peter.

Her brows furrowed as she looked at Emma, why wasn’t she saying anything? If someone had said something about either Y/n or Emma to Harry he probably would have punched them without even thinking. And Niall too, Y/n remembers one time some guy smacked Y/n’s ass at a party and Niall had to be pulled off him by three people.

“Are you dumb? Niall is our best friend and Harry is Em’s brother, you really think we aren’t going to be annoyed if you talk shit about them? Who do you think you are, huh?” She said turning to look at him.

Emma diverted the topic to something else and eventually, when Peter and Zayn were talking about Hockey, she made a signal for Y/n to follow her to the loo. Y/n was still pissed, and very ready to go home, she felt herself stewing in the corner her rage burning up under her skin. She didn’t understand why Emma hadn’t said anything, and that frustrated her more. She really hoped Emma was devising a plan for their escape but when they stepped inside the bathroom Emma stared at herself in the mirror reapplying her lip gloss she said something Y/n very much did not want to hear.

“I know Peter was a dick, but did you really have to have a go at him?”

This made Y/n even more annoyed than before, she’d only come on this fucking date for her and now she was complaining about how she acted when Peter was the one acting like a prick. Y/n didn’t see why she was at fault.

She and Emma never argued, Y/n didn’t like this. Emma was always on her side, even if Y/n had been in the wrong Emma would always be on her side. And anyway, she was protecting Harry and Niall. Not just anyone. She didn’t go out of her way to make the conversation turn into her having a go at him.

“Yes. I did. I only came on this date for you so that you could be with Zayn. Which you could’ve done without me and Peter. He’s awful, and you two could’ve just gone and done something on your own I don’t see why I had to be here.” She said, arms folding and Emma watched her. 

“And you know I don’t like when people are rude about our friends.”

Emma nodded. “I know Babe, sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel left out. You never go out with guys, I didn’t want to make you feel bad if me and Zayn start dating, you know?”

Y/n’s brows pinched, she was acting like that wasn’t Emma’s fault. Every boy she’d ever liked other than Harry, Emma had stolen or taken away. It’s like she wanted Y/n to be all hers. Not that it bothered Y/n much, if she couldn’t have Harry should didn’t want anyone anyway. 

“I don’t care about boys.”

Emma sighed grabbing her hand. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to put yourself out there, Babe.”

“Okay, sure, I see your point. But Peter? Really?”

She laughed. “Yeah, your right, he isn’t really your type. But he was the only available one on a Friday night.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, wonder why.”

Emma tucked a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Can I ask you one last favour?”

Y/n frowned eyes sharpening. “I’m not shagging him.”

Emma laughed tossing her head back. “No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“Can you get a lift home with Peter instead of me? I invited Zayn over, Harry’s gone to Niall’s for a bit. I need a good shag, and I need it now.”

Y/n sighed, a big groan leaving her lips. “Fine. But please make this date end soon. I don’t want to miss Murder She Wrote which starts at 9.”

Emma laughed. “Okay Grandma, don’t worry you’ll be tucked in bed in 30 minutes I can guarantee it.”

They stepped outside the loos walking back to their table and Y/n sat down on the side with Peter, sitting as close to the edge as possible. While the three were wrapped up in conversation Y/n quickly checked her phone she had a message from Harry still waiting for her reply.

Harry Styles 🍒 

Call me as soon as you're home. Miss your voice.

This made her smile to herself, hearting the message before returning her attention back to the table. The three of them were talking and Y/n felt herself zone out staring out the window. Rain was dripping down against the windows. She was just thinking of Harry, and internally screaming at the fact she wasn’t on a date with him right now. He had become more clingy than she’d expected over the past few weeks, he called her a fair amount and they snuck talks in private when they could but they hadn’t had a chance to go on another date yet. The way he was so kind and clingy to her was honestly shocking, normally he was the best at a fuck and ghost. She assumed he’d do the same, which she knew she’d just pretend to be fine with and then probably lose her shit when she saw him with another girl.

But nothing had been as explosive as she thought it to be, and that was probably because Emma hadn’t the faintest idea. 

By the time everyone finished their meals Zayn and Emma made a dash for it. Leaving their money on the table with the cheque. Zayn paid half and Peter paid the other. Emma kissed her cheek and patted Peter’s shoulder before the two raced away, giggling. Y/n was cranky at the fact Emma had only thought of herself the whole night and sighed leaning back into the seat of the booth. More than ready to leave.

Y/n frowned to herself as Peter seemed totally intent on keeping her there for a bit more of a chat. 

She tried to be polite about needing to head home. Making up some project she needed to do, but Peter’s hand slid onto her knee and she felt disgust crawl up her spine. She felt uncomfortable.

“Maybe we could just pop into the loos then, I bet your into that kinda thing. Can tell."

Y/n’s jaw dropped and she pushed his hand off quickly, she tapped her phone and Harry’s number dialling instantly. He was in her favourites. She needed his help, she knew he would come. She brought the phone to her ear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said lips curling in anger.

Harry picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Baby.” He said, raspy. There was lots of noise, he must’ve been in the car driving home.

Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “C’mon, don’t be such a prude. I paid for your dinner. You owe me at least a blowie.”

Harry, spoke over the line into her ear. “Y/n?”

She snatched her wrist out from his rough palm. 

“Get off me!” She shouted and grabbed the last of Emma’s milkshake from the table and threw it onto him. He flinched at the cold milkshake hitting his skin, his Ralph Loren polo was now caked in thick pink liquid, and his ginger hair was now soaked and dripping down over his eyes as he gasped. 

“Bitch!” He shouted, wiping his hand over his eyes.

“Fuck yourself, you pathetic fucking prick.” She shouted pointing her finger at him. Harry had heard the interaction and his fingers curled against the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from his grip. He put his foot on the pedal. He was already turning the car around in her direction.

“Sorry, can you pick me up please, Harry? Peter’s a creep, I need you.”

“Of course, hang tight I’ll be there soon.”

Peter was shouting at her like the pathetic baby he was and some waitresses came over to help clean up the mess she’d made by throwing at him. 

“Sorry,” She whispered to the cherry-haired girl who came over with a cloth and spray. The girl just laughed as Peter rushed over to the manager who had come out at the sound of the ruckus. 

“It’s okay, he seems like he's a bit of a knob.” She said looking over at Y/n. 

“Are you alright?” The blonde waitress asked from the other side of her.

“Yeah, he’s just a handsy asshole,” Y/n explained.

It took only a few minutes before the doorbell rang above the entryway door and Harry entered the restaurant. He looked dishevelled and his eyes were wild as he stepped inside. His hair was wet from having walked from his car to her, the thunderstorm outside had soaked him. The top of his grey hoodie was speckled in rain, and his eyes were all stormy and this dark green that Y/n melted over. He made his way over to her and she felt herself forget for a second why he was here. 

She was just happy to see him.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded, feeling relief flood her tummy. Harry always made her feel safe. He’d always felt like her protector even growing up. She remembered one time at her school dance some boys were trying to get Emma and Y/n in their car, they were drunk as skunks and she remembered Harry racing over and Y/n’s whose eyes were glassy with worry and he actually rubbed her arm. Then he drove them both to the party and made sure they were okay the whole night. He’d made her feel safe then too.

He rubbed her wrist, almost the same as that night at school. His thumb stroked it softly, as his eyes darted from hers to Peter who was still there. Covered in a milky pink drink, and swearing angrily.

Harry made his way over to him and grabbed him by the collar, in a rush of anger. He was bursting with anger and Y/n watched him surprised in her spot by the waitresses. She watched silently, expecting Harry to just tell him off. But he did more than that, Harry’s fist connected with Peter’s face and it made a slap, and he fell back onto the counter of the register with a bang.

His nose was bleeding upon the impact.

“If you ever touch her again I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” The calmness of his tone was actually chilling and Y/n felt herself tense up. Harry pushed him again. She knew if she let him he’d stay and pummel him for the rest of the night.

She walked over quickly and grabbed his arm softly. “C’mon, let’s just go. Can’t beat his awfulness out of him.”

“‘Can try.” He replied but ultimately he listened, pulling her into his side and they both apologised to the staff as they exited the restaurant. Harry’s hand slid into hers and she followed him to his car it was raining bad, big fat droplets hitting their faces as they walked steadily to the car. He opened the door for her and she slid in, he shut it when she was all tucked inside. The rain was coming down heavily and when he plopped in beside her he didn’t start the car, his hair was drenched and his eyelashes were thick with water. His face had turned soft again. He watched her for a beat. “Are you sure you're okay? I can go murder him if you want.”

She was silent for a second before turning to face him, she looked beautiful even with her frown. “Harry’s it’s fine. Can you just take me home?”

He nodded. She looked tired and frustrated, and in turn, this upset him. Y/n was too sweet to be treated like this. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen to her when he was around. He’d take care of his girl. The drive to Y/n’s house from the burger place really wasn’t far and she normally would’ve walked home if not for this heavy downpour of rain, and she had wanted Harry to be the one to comfort her. When Harry’s car pulled up outside the front of the house she looked over at him.

He was waiting for her to say she’d call him later and kiss his cheek but she didn’t. She looked up at him and sighed, bringing her hand up to push a loose curl away from his forehead.

“You wanna come up?” She asked.

He smiled. “You sure?”

She smiled bigger. “Yeah, come on.”

He turned the engine of the car off and just as Y/n went to open the door he said, “Wait.” 

She listened, watching as he bolted out of his side of the car to go to her side and open the door for her. She giggled at the gesture. Harry really wasn’t what people thought. 

He held his hand out for her to grab and she grabbed it as he helped her step down. The rain was heavy but neither of them seemed to care all that much considering they were both already soaking, and walked slowly up to her door. His hand was warm in hers and she shivered into his side. The rain had brought a chill to the air that nipped at her skin.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside pulling him in with her. The house was nice and warm, they’d been lucky enough to have an old fireplace still built in. It warmed the front rooms and meant their heating bill was much less since they only had to take care of a few small rooms. Harry followed her down the hall. 

This was the second time he’d been here, so now he knew where her room was he followed less nervously. The house was practically empty tonight beside from a few people in the living room and kitchen. Everyone must’ve been at one of the frat parties. She opened her bedroom door and they kicked off their shoes and socks that had gotten all soggy. 

Y/n shrugged her small pink coat off and put it over her desk chair. Harry stayed sort of stagnant behind her. Running his fingers through his hair. 

“Are y'cold, H?” She asked gripping the hem of her top, her back was facing him as she lifted it off. Revealing her lacy pink bra and bare back.

He felt his eyes widen and cheeks heat up. She yanked her jeans down and revealed a pink g-string that matched. It had bows on it, and it was all girly and pretty. Suddenly the wholesome urge to take care of her turned back into something a bit less wholesome. His cock twitched as she bent down to take her socks off. He had a great view of her plush perfect body. His hands flexed by his sides, and he looked down at his feet, did she want him to look?

She turned around running a hand through her hair, “Styles? You okay?”

She looked like a fucking dream.

He nodded looking up. “I- Yeah,”

She giggled. “What’s wrong?”

He rolled his eyes sighing, a smile remaining on his face. His cheeks had dusted in a soft pink that was unusual for him and only made Y/n more inclined to tease him. Roles reversed.

“Don’t play all dumb, you know you're fucking gorgeous. And I can’t exactly concentrate when you look at me like that.”

She walked closer to him as her hands slid under his hoodie and thick cotton t-shirt, hands grazing his skin. Her hands were cold, and he hissed slightly but made no movements to step back.  

“Like what?” Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. 

“Like that.” His hands slid around her back and down to cupping her ass in his big hands and bringing her closer to him. Their height difference had him bending down, ready to scoop her up into his arms.

She moved her hands onto his shoulders and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, lips close to his. “Kiss me.”

He leaned down connecting their lips together. She pulled him closer, whispering against his lips. “‘M cold.” 

He leaned into her touch, she was gripping him tightly against herself. He pulled his arms away from her to lift his jumper off. She gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled that off too. His tattoos filled her vision and she wanted to bite and suck and lick and touch every single one of them. God, he was just gorgeous. And honestly, being able to kiss him was more pleasurable than any other experience she’d ever had. Kissing him alone was something she could do for hours. When Harry just looked at her that alone was more breathtaking than anything any other boy had done. To have him here in her room, kissing her, holding her, well it was everything she’d ever dreamed of. If her fourteen-year-old self knew she’d probably faint, scream, cry, and go into shock.

Her hands slid to his hips and gripped the button of his jeans, as his hands found her cheeks and kissed her again. She yanked them down a little bit revealing the fern tattoos she loved so much. She remembers him posting on his Instagram when he’d gotten them, Y/n practically choked on her water when she saw them. He was just walking sex. She wasn't any better than him, completely filthy in that head of hers.

He started walking forward and leading her back to her bed. She sat down on the mattress eyes wild looking up at him. His bulge was right in her eye-line and she smiled up at him, and she grabbed him to join her. He slotted in perfectly into her arms and his hips pressed into the thin string that was covering herself. He wasn’t ashamed that his cock was already growing in size in his pants, and he gently pressed it against her in hopes of some relief to his aching balls.

She sighed breathily into his mouth at the weight of him on top of her, she kept pulling him even closer. Their chests pressed into each other, and Harry was so warm, and Y/n was so soft. He could’ve stayed like that all night, in her arms.

He pecked her lips one last time as he pulled away to kiss along her chest. The little necklace she always wore that Emma had bought her was around her neck. It was the first letter of her name. His finger ran along it, stroking her upper chest.

“Should get a H.” He said before nibbling into the plush flesh of her tits. They were so warm and soft against his face. If he wasn’t so needy for her he’d just rest against them and sleep, smelling her delicious scent of that clean soft scent she always smelt of, it was so comforting to him.

She smiled and softly ran her hands through his hair, her legs were still wrapped around his back. “Why?”

He looked up, and suddenly all those emotions of jealousy and protectiveness were back rushing through him and making his hands squeeze her hips tightly. “So people know you're mine.”

This shocked her a bit and Harry was nervous for a second, he had revealed quite a bit of feelings in that moment and distracted himself with her neck. Kissing along her sweet-smelling skin. His lips were so gentle against her like he was afraid she’d break.

“And then what would you wear to show who you belong to Styles?” She said. Her voice was raspy and breathy from his kisses. His head snapped up and he smirked wickedly. 

“Well, why don’t you mark m’back with your nails like last time, and leave some bruises on m’neck until we can come up with a permanent solution?”

She smiled and felt her pussy throb at the thought. After the last time Harry was between her legs she’d ended up with bruises on her thighs, hickeys everywhere, and she was so sore it hurt to sit all day. She’d told him one night on the phone and he’d lost his mind over it. Loved the idea of Y/n being marked up from him, sore from their sex, unable to sit without thinking of him.

"Sound good, Princess?"

“Okay.” She replied content with his answer. Her lips formed in a pouty kissy face and he came up to press his into hers for a long peck, she smiled when he pulled away. How could he be so cocky and rude but also so soft all at once? He moved his way back down her body and kissed her hips sucking a spot into her left hip. His hand rubbed her stretch marks along there and kissed over the now bruised mark he’d made.

He moved further down until his mouth was right against her pussy. His nose brushed against the material as he looked up at her. “Gonna let me take care of you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiled. “You’re such a good girl f’me. Perfect lil' thing.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He loved when she slipped into that state of submission and obedience because normally, despite her calm presence, she basically never let Harry have anything without being teased. She was a bit of a brat to him, which turned him on an unfathomable about.

He pulled her knickers off and threw them to the side. As he spread her legs even further apart he moved one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder and the other he pushed forward toward her tummy, practically folding her in half. His ring-covered fingers gripped them and he leaned in close to her. The lips of her were like petals of a flower, splayed out and dewy. Her clit was puffy and swollen in arousal like the bud of a flower. He brought his free hand forward and circled her clit softly. Her hips squirmed into his hand and he heard her let out a shaky breath. 

“Ah,” She gasped when he leaned in closer and his breath hit her dripping pussy. It was cool and shiver-inducing and she could practically see his smile, even though her eyes had made their way shut.

He placed a gentle kiss on her clit and her hands moved to his hair quickly. “Please.”

He was teasing her and he loved the reaction it pulled from her. Now that they’d already been together once there was a certain familiarity in this. He knew what she liked and he was ready to explore things that he hadn’t already. Including taking his time and eating her out like he’d been thinking about since he was probably fourteen.

He looked up at her, her lips were in a pout of frustration. “What’s got you pouting, Princess?”

“Want you t’help me, Harry.”

“You can beg better than that, Y/n.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please taste me, Daddy. Need your mouth. Want it.”

He smirked looking up at her. “‘Atta girl.”

She felt her clit throb at his raspy words. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe of her slick up into his mouth. She tasted tangy and sweet just like he’d imagined. His mouth watered at the taste, and he smirked. Once he’d tasted her he knew he wouldn’t be able to tease her any longer. He started moaning and grunting into her and the vibrations of it had her mewling and tugging on his hair.

“Fuck.” She cried out, neck arching into the pillow.

He was acting like a starved man and sucking onto her clit with such a hunger that it startled her. She hadn’t expected him to be so wild and good at it. She knew he was good, but Jesus, she was already feeling so much pleasure within mere minutes. He was suckling into her bud like a bee on a honeysuckle flower, all headily. The sweet nectar spilled onto his tongue as he kissed her lips, and practically devoured her whole. She was already feeling dreamy with the pleasure, floating with lust.

As he began to speed his tongue up and get more sloppy with his languid movements, she gained less control of her body. Her legs tried to shut on him and they were beginning to shake softly, he gripped them tighter and split her open for him.

His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of her hungrily, and as he slipped his tongue near her weeping hole she let out a particularly loud whine and her back arched off the mattress. “Fuckin’ hell, feels good, Daddy.”

He pulled away for a breath looking up at her, rubbing his thumb over her clit in slow hard circles that had her eyes welling with tears of pleasure. “Yeah, sucha’ good girl letting Daddy eat this little pussy.”

She was bucking her hips and squirming under his tight grip. He could tell she was getting close as she ground against his face, her moans were getting louder and more desperate. Her slick was dribbling down his chin and he was moaning every few licks. He’d taken to rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress for some relief, and Y/n coming on done from his touch was too much for him to stay still. He needed to relieve himself. Or he’d come his boxers, which he thought we be a bit pathetic. He wanted to prove to her how good he could be with her, how he liked to take his time when he could. But his neediness was making him have a little less control than he liked.

He continued eating her pussy with such a raw animalistic frenzy that her orgasm washed over quickly, taking her by complete surprise. Her tummy filled with waves of pleasure that shot all through her body as her muscles tensed and her pussy throbbed, she could feel herself clamping down onto his tongue as he groaned.

When she came it was with a desperate, soft, cry of his name. “Fuck, Harry.” She said, shutting her eyes and gripping his hair. “‘M cumming.”

“Cum for me, angel.”

She did. Hard. She felt like she had no control of her body as Harry talked her through her orgasm encouragingly. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’d slipped his fingers inside with ease and began curling against her. She felt herself fall back limp into the sheets as he continued licking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, and her hands moved to his hair once again pulling on it. Her mouth was loose-lipped and she found it hard to keep herself quiet now.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” She said breathlessly, all soft and quiet. It made him smile as he looked up at her, slick coating his lips. 

“Gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum again?”

She nodded biting her lip. “Mhm.” She said before throwing her head back when his fingers hit that soft spot inside her that she couldn’t reach with her own fingers. It made her melt and shake.

Harry noticed her reaction and smirked to himself. “Found it.”

As she watched him from between her thighs, his head bobbed and the muscle of his arms flexed, he was pinning her to the bed so that he could keep going. Her second orgasm found itself much easier, it took Harry a few kisses and rubs against her clit along with his fingers pounding into her until she came. 

Her legs moved to shut around his head and her nails were scratching along his shoulders and back. She kept repeating the words, “Please, Daddy.” Over and over, until.

“Oh, I think you’re gonna make me cum again.”

He kept his steady pace and sloppy kisses going, pulling away only to say. “Cum for Daddy, pretty girl,”

And she did. It was like his words had complete control over her. The ball growing in her tummy snapped and rushed through her. This time her whole body shook as she gripped onto his arms in support, she felt this release like a tidal wave.“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

The tightness of her muscles flexing and her body shaking had her spent. She had never come so hard, and it for so long. It was a few minutes before she finally felt the pleasure subside to something more easy to take. 

She was mewling and babbling all drunken from her orgasm. “Jesus, H.”

He helped her through her second orgasm, kissing along her hips and thighs to give her swollen clit a chance to rest. When she finally came down from the peak of her orgasm, she went limp again, eyes shut, and for a moment there she couldn’t hear or see anything. She could only feel him. Feel what he’d made come over her.

When she looked down at him he’d pulled his fingers out only a few centimetres away and his mouth was damp. His chin was covered in slick and as she began to take in his appearance. His neck and the top of his chest was dripping. She was confused for a second, it couldn’t be sweat. Despite their intense state, she knew he couldn’t be sweating that much. And then she realised. 

“Oh, I squirted, sorry.” She said embarrassed trying to shut her legs. He looked at her like she was crazy moving back up so that his hips were between her thighs.

“Sorry? What are you on about? You squirted f’me, and you looked beautiful doing it too. Absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

She smiled, still feeling shy and blushy. She’d squirted on his dick before, but certainly not his face. She hadn’t expected it to feel so good. “Thank you for making me cum.”

He smiled, and despite his rotten mouth and dominant cocky rough edges, in that moment he looked all soft and gooey and truthfully the fact he got to see Y/n so soft and vulnerable around him made him eternally soft for her. He wanted to see her like this all the time. Red-faced, pouty lips, eyes glassy in pleasure, and words slurring from complete satisfaction. Something only he got to see.

He wanted to be the only person who got her to squirt all over his face. Wanted to be the only one to taste her sweet little pussy. He wanted to be the only man for her. He felt so possessive over her like a kid not wanting to share his favourite toy. But he knew at the end of the day, it was always going to be her decision who she was with. 

But Y/n thought that over the years it was pretty damn obvious who she wanted. 

Harry was the only one for her. 

She wasn’t in some other boy's bed tonight, she was with him right now, running her nails softly along his arms despite how needy they both were for each other. She was slow with her touches like they had all the time in the world because really they did.

It was raining so heavily outside, the wind was howling wildly rustling all the trees nearby, and the thunder roared above them. The shelter her little room provided them with was perfect, and it felt like all time ceased to exist. The sky had turned dark and so had their eyes, her room was almost pitch black, and they were both so warm and close. Skin to skin.

Y/n was right here, naked, and waiting for him. 

Things weren’t so bad after all.

He placed a soft long kiss on her lips and she could taste herself on his tongue. Things tonight felt different than the first time, although Harry was fueled and fiery with jealousy and he wanted to take her roughly, it all felt more intimate.

His hands moved to her hips squeezing the plush flesh and running his hands over the stretch marks that decorated her skin. Every inch of Y/n was beautiful, and he’d never thought that before about anyone. He’d never seen someone's hands and thought what absolutely beautiful hands they had, or what beautiful teeth they had, or how cute their ears were. There wasn’t a part of her body that he wouldn’t worship. 

To him, she was the picture image of beauty.

The kiss deepened as he rolled them over. His head rested where hers just had, and he could feel the warmth her body had left behind. She sat right up against his cock, and she could feel him throbbing against her. His old thin boxers left little room for him to hide his aching want. He was honestly rock hard, watching her cum twice, feeling her, tasting her. It had him so hard he could’ve cried.

Her tits were right in his eyeline, all soft and full. He took one into his mouth sucking on her sensitive nipple, and enjoying the loud whine she let out. His hands had fallen to her ass now, and she’d taken to grinding against his clothed cock. He could feel the wetness of her leaking down onto his boxers and he wanted to stuff her full. Despite her two orgasms, Y/n was still managing just fine on top of him.

She pulled back just slightly so she could grip the hem of his boxers and tug them off. His cock sprang up against his tummy, and even though she’d seen it before she’d probably never get used to how fucking big and gorgeous his cock was. The pink ruddy tip that glistened in precum, his long veiny shaft, that girthiness he had. God she could stare at it for hours, she thinks he is beautiful in the way those ancient paintings of Greek gods were beautiful. His hair was unruly and curly and fit for a golden wreathe to sit, his body all muscular and tanned, his absolute manliness. Something about how capable he was was just enough to have her squirming her thighs.

If she was to paint him, she’d want him to look something like this. Messy, needy, and staring right at her. She moved her hand to grip his cock giving it some gentle strokes, he was hissing already. Her hands were so warm and soft, and she pursed her lips and spat down onto him, allowing her to stroke him faster.

“Such a pretty cock, Daddy.”

He let out a laugh through his moan, “Pretty?”

She nodded. “Just like the rest of you. Beautiful.”

He felt his cheeks warm in a blush. No one had ever called him that before. She was still stroking him and he felt his eyes begin to squeeze shut in pleasure. His hips rutted up into her hand a few times.

“Want to feel this pretty cock, Daddy, please,” She said, her voice in a gentle begging tone.

He opened his eyes and smiled his hand moving from her hip to her cheek stroking it with his thumb. 

“Come sit on it, all yours to sit on, Princess.”

She smiled up at him, kissing his jaw and letting go of his stiffy so that she could move her legs up the bed. When she was hovering over him she placed her arms by his shoulders ready to slide onto him when he stopped her. 

“Wait, condom?” He asked, kissing her nose. 

She shook her head. “Wanna feel you, s’that okay?”

He felt his cock twitch at that. “Yeah, I’m clean, trust you. Want that too.”

She smiled leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Her hand grabbed his dick and brought it up between her slick folds, collecting the wetness. She slowly slid down onto it and felt herself stretching for him, her two orgasms allowed more room for him to glide into her easily, but no matter how wet she was his cock was always going to stretch her out.

When she’d made it halfway she looked up at him, “Y'big, sorry,”

He just pushed some hair away from her face, kissing her jaw near her ear. “Take your time.”

Eventually, she made it hilt of him, sitting down on him softly. They both let out heavy sighs at the feeling, she felt so full of him. He was so deep, she could see the bulge of him in her tummy. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and his hands massaged her thighs softly. If not for their burning desire Harry could’ve stayed just like that for hours. His back against the wall, her resting against him, cock all warm inside her. It was perfect.

She eventually lifted her head up and smeared their lips together in a messy gentle kiss. Her arms wrapped around his back in an embrace as she began to lift herself up and then back down slowly. The stretch starting to burn in pleasure now, and the pain subsiding. He moaned into her mouth loudly as she started to pick up a rhythm of deep hard thrusts. The tip of him was hitting that spot that had her eyes rolling back into her skull as she started to find the rhythm that was right for them both. She was going slow yet hard and deep, it had her pussy clamping down against him which was sending him up the wall.

Her pussy was to die for, so tight, and perfect around his cock. Wet and warm. He wanted to bury himself in it all hours of the day. Her lazy bounces started to pick up as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. His hands moved from her hips to her ass, gripping her tightly as he began to pump his cock up meeting her bounces. He was moaning and grunting into her neck and tits at the feel of her tight pussy, he started kissing her all over.

It was a beautiful sight, his pretty girl's tits bouncing right in front of his face, and her moaning against his cock. He couldn't help but smile, a devilish one.

“Daddy, fuck,” She swore. She was getting close again. Her previous orgasms had her so sensitive to his touch.

One of his hands came forward and began to rub messy circles against her puffy clit. She let out a whine and shut her eyes bouncing as if her life depended on it, his other hand squeezed her ass kneading it roughly, as he thrust his cock up into her pussy.

“You’re Daddy’s good girl aren’t you?”

This made her let out a particularly loud whimper.

“What was that, Princess?”

She just let out another noise of pleasure.

His hand moved up to grip her chin so she’d look at him. “Say it, Y/n. Tell me.”

“I’m your good girl, H.”

He frowned. “H?”

Her hips were stuttering on his cock and the hard rubbing against her clit. “I’m your good girl, Daddy.”

He smirked. “Who’s little pussy does this belong to?”

God, he was filthy. She fucking loved it. It’s what she’d imagined him to be liked. Raw, rough, filthy, dominant, and possessive.

She cried out as his thrusts began to speed up. She was dizzy with it all, struggling to speak.

Her voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Yours,”

“What’s mine, Y/n?”

“My pussy, it’s yours. I'm yours.”

He smirked. “Good girl, sucha' good fucking girl.”

His thrusts caused her entire body to jolt forward, as her nails scratched down his arms and she began to scream at the pleasure. 

“That’s it, take Daddy’s cock,”

She gripped his arms for dear life, “Gunna’ come again. Ah, mm, fuck.”

He didn’t stop for a second and it was only a few thrusts until she was squirted all over his cock and shaking wildly. He could tell he’d fucked her hard because she was practically limp on top of him when her orgasm subsided, she was spent. Harry had ruined her. Three orgasms, three mind-blowing orgasms, she didn’t know if she could handle another.

He kissed her lips. “Good job, sweet girl.”

She smiled dazedly. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Want me ta’ take care of ya’ now.” His voice hadn't gotten even slower, slurring from the absolute raw fuck he was having.

She nodded and he helped her off him. She fell back onto her bed, back amongst the mess that was her sheets. Her hair lay above her like a crown and he kissed her lips softly, enjoying this gentle side to her. It seems the more she came the softer she got, more clingy, handsy. He fucking loved it. He was sure his shoulders were covered in scratches from her, and his hair had been tugged about by her. He probably looked just as fucked out as her.

She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and her lips were swollen. She looked up at him fluttering her lashes. Sexiest little thing ever, a total minx. “Want you.” She whispered. She wanted him to cum, fill her up. She'd been thinking about for years, especially lately.

He grabbed her legs spreading them far apart so he could slot in between her. He was sitting up on his knees all tall above her. Her tummy curled in anticipation and desire, he was so fucking hot. His gorgeous veiny hands touched her and those ring-covered fingers of his gripping into her flesh hard. His swirls of ink were still visible under the moonlight. 

He was a sight. A pure filthy sight she wanted to hold onto in her mind forever.

“Want to fill you up, Princess.” He replied. His cock was begging for his orgasm, he’d managed to last through one of her orgasms pulsing against him, but he knew the next one would push him over the edge. He slowly slipped inside of her, and her hands found their way to his arms, gripping them hard.

He started thrusting roughly without much warning, causing her bed to shift and creak under the weight of them both. She moaned loudly, “Oh, fuck,”

With each thrust her body jolted into the bed, as she tried to find a way to control her squirming body.

He let out a hiss as his balls slapped against her ass. “Feel so good around me, sweet girl. Fuckin' perfect. Made for this cock.”

She pulled him closer so that her chest was pressed into his. His face slipped into the side of her neck and shoulder and gently kissed along there. One of her arms wrapped around his back and the other found his hand, he held hers tightly. He continued fucking into her deep, it felt so good it hurt and her hips jutted to meet his.

“‘Wanna cum, Daddy, can I?” She said softly, in a pleading tone that had his balls aching to fill her pussy up with his hot cum. He grunted pounding into her just that bit harder, this final bundle of energy he had was going toward making her finish.

She felt her tummy tightening familiarly with her orgasm. She knew that she couldn’t hold onto it much longer.

“Cum f’me please, Y/n.” He whimpered, “Be a good girl and let me feel you cum on m’cock.”

His hand held hers tightly, and this romantic intimate side of him was all too much for her, this was somehow hotter than his rough side. She loved to see him like this.

She pulled his face to hers, and they kissed as she finished. It was all teeth and tongue, noses brushing into each other, and she cried out into his mouth. He nibbled her lip and felt her clamping against him rapidly.

When he pulled back from the kiss they were breathless, each thrust had her practically crying out.

“Gonna make me cum, Y/n,” He whispered. “Where do you want me cum?”

She wrapped her legs around his hips. “Inside me, please, Daddy.”

When he made eye contact with her that’s when he finally orgasmed. The thrusts of his hips grew sloppy with pleasure as he let out a loud moan of her name and some curses. She was scratching his arm and back softly letting him fuck her full of his cum as his pleasure subsided. He didn’t move out of her, just landed on top of her. His head resting right above her fast-beating heart. He was fucking spent.

She stroked his hair feeling nice and full of him. She could feel his cum inside her, dripping out onto his cock. He was warm and big to cuddle she loved it. He lifted his head up when he caught his breath, placing a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks which made her giggle, then finally her lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Oh, shut up Styles, I already let you fuck me, no need to butter me up now.” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, still inside her, still holding her hand. “You’ve always been beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.”

Her face turned soft, cheeks blooming in a soft dusty rose. “You’re beautiful too.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Eventually, he pulled out of her, she felt empty and whined at the feeling. She was so sensitive now. She honestly wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed inside her for the rest of the night.

She shut her eyes and as he sat back, he watched his cum drip out of her. It made his tummy flutter. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking this far ahead considering Y/n and him weren’t even dating. But if she got pregnant with his baby, that would be the cutest thing in the world. He cut those thoughts from his mind and stood up. 

“Gonna clean y’up.” He said, walking to her bathroom. He found a cloth in there and wet it with some warm water walking over to the bed. 

She opened her eyes which had turned bleary with sleepiness. She smiled tiredly over at him. He smiled back, grabbing her legs and spreading them so he could wipe her down. She whined at the touch of the cloth.

“Sorry, Baby.”

She let out another soft wince. “S’okay, worth it.”

As he stared down at her he noticed how sweaty she looked. “Wanna shower? I’ll help you. We probably should after all that rain and other stuff.”

She nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. “Okay, just don’t let me fall asleep and drown in there.”

He laughed. “Course not.”

He helped her up to a sitting position and she looked up at him sluggishly. “Really got me sore, H.”

He frowned. “Sorry, Angel.”

She teasingly sharpened her gaze, “You aren’t sorry, you filthy boy.”

He smirked. “‘M not sorry for taking what’s mine, I am sorry you’ll be sore tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “You will be sorry when I keep complaining.”

"I'll massage you, don't worry."

He picked her up startling her, she always knew he was strong but never expected him to pick her up with such ease, and if she wasn’t totally spent she’d want to test what also he could do with those big muscles. Throw her around maybe? Fuck her standing up? She’d make a note to herself to try that later.

His hands were under bum and as he walked to the bathroom, the shower was surprisingly big and had a tiny little shelve that came out which had all her soaps and shampoos, but there was enough room for her to sit on it.

He turned the water on warm and placed her onto the sink bench. She watched him under the pale light of the bathroom. How was this the same Harry from before?

This was a soft kind man, a gentleman, hardly a frat boy dick. She didn't know where'd he been hiding this side of him. But she liked him just as much as he did the rotten-mouthed boy she knew.

In the shower he took care of her as promised, washing her hair with the lavender-scented shampoo she owned. He used some too, and he helped wash her skin with this fresh-smelling shower oil she had. Softly cleaning her sore parts and he massaged her body with such a gentleness that she melted right into his hands.

She’d never expected Harry to be one to stay and cuddle after, let alone help shower. He was so nurturing to her. It made her feelings bloom and spread through her body like wildflowers.

When they were both clean Harry even helped her dry her hair, and change into some comfy clothes. While she was brushing her teeth and putting some skincare on he fixed up her sheets and tucked himself into them. He'd put his rings in the little dish she had on her bedside table. Checking his phone to see it was late. They'd been going for a while.

When she came out in a baggy shirt that Harry had worn last time he was here, it still smelt of him, and some little black knickers he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked especially good in his clothes.

“C’mere.” He opened the duvet and she slid in beside him tiredly. He pulled her close, right in the crook of his chest, he’d decided to wear nothing to bed. Which bothered neither of them. He ran hot, especially with Y/n snuggling right up against him.

Her window was open letting the heavy downpour of thunder and rain become background noise as they fell asleep. He kissed her temple, rubbing her back underneath his shirt.

“Night, Beautiful.”

She shut her eyes kissing one of the swallows on his chest. “Night, Styles.”

Sleep found them both quickly and Harry held onto her the whole night. He was completely smitten with her, the one girl he couldn’t have was the only one he wanted. Fuck. They were so screwed.

PART THREE???????

[cinnamonchaos]

ladies and gentlemen, Mr Harry Styles

[hrrysafterglow]

Weird

Part 1 of the vampire Harry series! I hope you all enjoy <3

...

Y/N really wasn't one to judge.

She swears! She really isn't, sure there's things she finds a bit odd but never to the extent of spending more than a few minutes thinking about it.

But Harry was straight up weird. He visits the book/coffee store she works at almost every day because he's friends with Mitch, who owns the store.

He'd come in every day around 6pm, an hour before close, and he'd buy the same tea every day, lemon and ginger, while he looks around for very odd books.

Most of them she hadn't really heard of and they were always extremely old. He was nice, reserved, a bit intimidating and he wasn't awfully chatty, but he'd speak back to her if she spoke to him, sometimes he'd smile and that's really all a person could ask for.

But the man was so strange! He'd wear flared pants and flowy tops with trench coats over his clothes almost always, even if it was blistering hot outside, he was pale and spoke very...old fashioned?

He'd sometimes come into the store with paint on his hands making Y/N question if he was an artist, sometimes she thought it was nail polish since his nails were always painted pretty colours and sometimes he'd come in with a vinyl in hand, (which wasn't that odd if he just bought it) he rarely drives, she's only seen him get out of a car twice in the four months she'd been working there. He looked the same age as her, maybe a few years older but he was very mature and reminded her of a grandpa in some ways.

And he would always tip extremely well. He was just a bit odd. And Y/N knows she shouldn't really dwell on it but it was hard when he'd ask the strangest questions she's ever heard (One time he'd asked Y/N if she was locking her windows at night which freaked her out for weeks after). Mitch says he's just not very well versed with people and how to speak to them, that he's only friends with him because they'd known each other for a very long time. He would never specify how long though, which Y/N found odd but it was whatever. He would always give Y/N compliments though and they always sounded so sincere that they made her blush.

So while he was weird, Y/N had a massive crush on him.

Niall was sat on a stool behind the counter next to Y/N as she served what was hopefully the last customer of the day as they close in 15 minutes, Harry hadn't been in today which was odd but Y/N didn't care enough to ask Mitch about it.

Niall is Y/N's best friend, they go to the same Uni and had shared a flat during their first year, they hit it off pretty great and they've been best friends since, despite not living together for very long.

The bell on the door jingles and Y/N looks over to see Harry walk in, today he was wearing a white blouse, blush pink velvet flares and a black coat, the most normal thing about his outfit was probably the vans on his feet and the large rings adorning his fingers.

He's got a tote slung over his shoulder which is new, he's never had one with him before, he didn't say anything when he walked in, going straight to the books as Y/N turns back to Niall who gives her a weird look and mouths "Is that Harry?" to her, she'd spoken about him a couple of times and Niall was dying to meet him but was never around when he was there.

Y/N nods and clears her throat, "Anyway, we've got to submit the psychology paper by Tuesday so do you want to come over on Saturday when I get off to start them?" Y/N asks, "I can't, I'm going to play footie with Zayn on Saturday and then I've got a date," Niall says, "Guess I'll have to do it by myself then," Y/N sighs.

Harry walks up to the front desk with a book in his hand and Y/N smiles at him, he smells like Lavender just like always and he gives her a tight lipped smile, "Hello," He says, his voice was quite deep and smooth and a bit intimidating most of the time, Y/N loved it and she loved it even more when there's a bit of a rasp to it.

"Hi Harry," She says, "You look very pretty today, your hair is smooth," He says and Y/N finds a blush creeping up her neck at the very odd but very sweet compliment, "Thanks, I like your shirt," She says, "Thank you," Harry says back.

"Can I get lemon and ginger tea also please," He asks making Y/N nod, "Course, Niall can you take care of that please," Y/N asks and Niall nods, "Oh, are you new?" Harry asks, "No, I'm just helping," Niall grins and Harry nods.

"Is that a new bag?" Y/N asks and Harry looks at his bag and back at Y/N, "Yes I read on the line that they help the planet, so I got one," Harry says, his face is hard to read, he holds his usual stony expression and Y/N hears Niall try to hold back a laugh.

"I like it!" Y/N smiles, taking the tea from Niall, "That's £11 please," She says and Harry nods pulling out two twenties, passing them to Y/N, "Thank you for serving me, that is your tip. Make sure you lock your doors before sleeping," Harry says, picking up his items and leaving the store silently.

"Jeez, he's a bit intense and creepy," Niall says in surprise, "He's sweet though isn't he?" Y/N says, "He said your hair was smooth and tipped you £29, yes he's sweet but he's weird as fuck!" Niall says.

"He called online 'on the line' and told you to lock your doors, how do you fancy this guy," Niall sighs and Y/N rolls her eyes, "He's just a bit odd, he's harmless," She assures and Niall nods but doesn't look convinced.

...

Harry doesn't know what this odd feeling in his tummy is but he fears it has something to do with Y/N.

Harry had been visiting the book store for years, it had a lot of his favorite books and it was a good way to see Mitch, he used to visit once every couple of weeks since he was rather busy with his own work and he has a library at home so it wasn't necessary to visit.

Then around four months ago he walked in and saw a beautiful girl behind the counter fumbling with the coffee machine. She was gorgeous and she smelled so lovely, she was quite clumsy and she had a pretty smile.

So Harry found himself walking to the book store every single day.

It was ridiculously stupid. Harry, a one hundred and ninety two year old vampire, is fond of the cute girl that works at his best friend's book store and is shit at making lemon and ginger tea but even worse at anything else so he buys it anyway, so she talks to him for a little longer.

He has odd feelings about a human which is basically unheard of in his world. Most of his kind can't stand humans unless they're snacking on them and Harry felt pretty much the same besides a few. Then he meets Y/N who's just so lovely and smells like coconut and actually makes him smile which is a very difficult thing to do most of the time.

Mitch had even caught on and had told Sarah and the two of them had been teasing him relentlessly for it because she made him shy and he said weird shit to her like 'lock your doors' or 'your cheeks are pink' because she made him all melty and his mouth was moving before his brain could even register it.

He felt extremely protective over her and he wanted to be with her all the time, he didn't even want to bite her because he was scared he'd hurt her which is like the least vampiric thing ever!

And the fact he felt shy and mushy over a human really pissed him off. He tried staying away from the store but every single time his feet start moving and he's there without thinking.

He really doesn't know what the hell is happening to him but he wants it to stop.

...

Y/N shouldn't be walking to her grocery store at one in the morning. It's stupid and she knows it's a bad idea. But she never claimed to not be stupid.

It's Saturday night and while everyone else she knows are out on dates or at a club or a frat party, Y/N was writing her goddamn psychology paper. But she got hungry half way through and she didn't have anything good in her cupboard so she decided to go to the store.

She was in the sweet aisle trying to choose between gummy bears or cola bottles when someone rests a hand on her shoulder making her jump and turn around.

"Jesus Christ! You scared the crap out of me!" Y/N sighs, Harry looking at her with furrowed eyebrows, "Why are you out at this time of the night?" He asks and Y/N is surprised at the tone of his voice, he sounds almost mad?

She laughs it off and turns back around to look at the shelves, "I'm writing a paper and I wanted snacks," She shrugs, deciding on cola bottles, "It is much too late to be out, do you even know the dangers you face? It is one in the morning! You could be attacked!" He scolds, Y/N feels like a child being scolded for running away from her parents and she shrinks into herself a little.

"I just wanted some sweets! And you're out too!" She protests, crossing her arms and looking at her feet, "That is very much different, I do my shopping at this time and I can defend myself," Harry scoffs making Y/N furrow her eyebrows.

"So can I? And anyway, I don't owe you an explanation about why I'm out, that's not even your business," She tells him turning to walk away but Harry grabs onto her wrist, "Do not walk away from me," He says sharply, looking into her eyes and Y/N freezes, suddenly not wanting to walk away anymore.

"You're being a dick. Why do you even care that I'm out? You barely know me. I just wanted food!" Y/N groans, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration, "I am trying to keep you safe!" Harry exclaims a bit too loudly and Y/N jumps in surprise at how mean he sounds, "Piss off, I can keep myself safe you fucking prick!"

"You are a stupid little human, you never appreciate anything I do to keep you safe," Harry seethes before storming off leaving a very angry and confused Y/N behind him.

Harry was weirder than she had thought. And not as nice as she had assumed.

...

Harry screwed up. He screwed up so incredibly bad and he didn't know how he was going to fix it.

He let his vampiric possessive side come out and he regretted it a hell of a lot.

He definitely pissed her off, he could have scared her, he knew being angry was supposed to scare humans 100X more when you're a vampire because of the intimidating aura so God knows what she was feeling.

He felt horrible.

So he did the one thing he thought would make it better...

He made cookies and picked her some flowers that he'd spent time growing in his own garden and brought them to the shop the next day. But she wasn't there.

"Where is Y/N?" He asks Mitch who looks up at the sound of his voice and narrows his eyes.

"Are you insane Harry!?" Mitch asks, "Well I like to think not but it probably depends on who you ask," He jokes but Mitch looks less than impressed.

"Y/N quit. She called this morning and said she couldn't work here anymore because you are crazy and weird and you make her extremely uncomfortable." He explains making Harry look at him in surprise.

"Humans are so bloody sensitive! You get into one spat with a person and suddenly you're insane! God I just tried to look out for her. I hate humans. Give me her address," Harry rants, "I am not letting you interrogate her at her own home. Besides she's been talking about how she has to move out for a few weeks now so I'm not even sure if she lives in the address I have anymore." Mitch sighs.

"I just want to apologize, just tell me the address you have and I'm sure whoever is living there now will know where she is if she isn't there." Harry asks him.

"Fine. What did you say to her anyway?" Mitch sighs rolling his eyes, "Nothing important. I merely warned her." Harry scoffs.

"I'm sure." Mitch says sarcastically, "You know you fucked up the only good employee I've ever had. The rest of them are too nosy and stick their nose in where it doesn't belong, Y/N just keeps to herself, only questioned me about your odd compliments once," Mitch sighs, "Well, hopefully I can convince her to come back then. You may not think it but I feel incredibly guilty about what I did. And I'm vampire royalty so I don't feel guilty about very much." Harry tells him matter of factly.

"Have you ever considered that Y/N may be your bonded?" Mitch says, not realising what he's said until he's said it, making his eyes widen and his full body freeze.

"I assure you Mitchell, I am not bonded to a puny helpless human who can't take a single piece of advice without rushing off without a care. Do not ever suggest such a thing again or I will ensure you know not to. It seems you've forgotten your place and you must step back into it immediately." Harry says sharply, glaring at him threateningly. Mitch immediately bows his head and nods.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry," He answers quickly, handing Harry the piece of paper with Y/N's address on it, keeping his eyes down until he hears the door bell ring, letting him know Harry's left.

He lets out a sigh of relief at the lack of angry vampire prince energy in the room. Harry can be awfully scary when he's mad, especially since he's one of their ruler's, he was usually much worse with anyone else, Mitch just got lucky that he and Harry became best friends.

The question still stays in Mitch's head though despite Harry chastising him. He has a strong feeling that Y/N and Harry are soulmates, he'd just have to keep it to himself.

...

Hiii my sexy babies!!!! This is part 1 of the vampire Harry series!!!! What's everyone's thoughts??

[shawnxstyles]

HARRY WINNING ALBUM OF THE YEAR!!!!!!

3/7 GRAMMYS FOR THE NIGHT!!

[watermelonsugacry]

I know we kinda know how YN is whenever Harry goes out on stage but how does he react to her being on stage? I would LOVE to see that dynamic

Whenever Harry is preparing for a show, his green room has an overall calm vibe to it: he brushes his teeth at least twice, everyone sits around on the leather couches and chats, cracking jokes, and gets dressed in his outfit for the night.

For YN's shows, she's never off her feet. Much like Harry though, when YN gets to the venue she's performing at, she's working out—running up and down the stairs, doing lunges all around the perimeter of the vast room.

If Harry was with her during the day, he would sit and watch as she zooms through her workout. When he would see her slowing down on never-ending steps, he would join her on the stairs and encourage her to continue with comforting words or (the most effective method) make it a competition to get through her exercises.

Then she does run-throughs of her dance routines on stage with her tour dancers. Sometimes they're full out or just vaguely going through their places. Harry respects her space when she's focused on her dancing so he likes to sit on one of the equipment boxes in the pit with her manager. He just sits there, one leg over the other with his chin resting in the palm of his hand and a fond smile on his lips.

He loves to see her move around the stage in the way that she does. He has a front-row seat to see the way her deliciously toned and thick thighs move with strength and grace. His eyes love to scan over the strip of skin between her athletic shorts and tank top—one of his favorite places he loves to take a bite out of. And speaking of his favorite parts of her he loves to sink his teeth into, he doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze drops to the way her bum bounces when she goes from jumping around the stage to her final pose.

When she has to go to her dressing room to shower and get her makeup done, Harry's there to chit-chat with her about anything and everything. He waits patiently on one of the leather couches and talks with his fiancée's manager, Jeff, and a couple of other people from her team. When she finally emerges in her first outfit for the night, she immediately goes to the full-length mirror to adjust the fluffy material on her shoulders.

A smile creeps its way on her face when she sees her love's ring covered hands run over her glittery torso and he holds her from behind.

"So pretty," He mumbles against her temple before planting a kiss there.

One thing Harry admires about YN is that she takes the time to appreciate the people on her tour team.

When she walks down the venue halls, she addresses everyone she passes by name, even stopping by the lesser appreciated technician crew members and asking about the daily updates about their families. It's quite a sight to see her decked out in her full glittery, pink stage outfit next to her crew members in their black attire.

One of her favorite times before heading further backstage is to stop by the greenroom where her four tour dance crew members finish getting ready. For a good ten minutes, they just blast some music and dance like it's one big party to hype them up for the sold-out show.

And when it's time to officially head to the stage, YN threads her fingers with Harry's as they walk backstage. The crew members shine their flashlights on their feet as they navigate the dark areas. She takes a moment to shake out her limbs, closing her eyes and lulling her head from shoulder to shoulder.

As her introduction video begins to end, the two are escorted further down to get under the stage. She can hear the fans screaming and it only gets her more excited to get on stage. Once she's crouching down on the risen platform, she grips onto her fiancé's hand one more time and takes a deep breath.

"Have fun out there," YN nods her head with a breathtaking smile at his words. "I love you."

"I love you," She yells over the increasing sound of her awaiting fans.

Despite her getting in trouble multiple times from her make-up artist, she still leans in to give her love their traditional kiss before heading out on stage. And without fail, YN giggles when she sees how some of her lip gloss stays on his lips.

She giddily moves her fingers together at the twinkly sound of her opening song, Juicy.

With a nod from her backstage crew, she plants her feet securely on the platform to move into her opening pose as they begin to lift her on stage.

Harry laughs when she throws him a cheeky smile before quickly getting into her happily pleased expression, like her performing to a stadium full of fans didn't affect her.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

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[stellatekintsugi]

Harry Styles for Better Homes & Gardens Magazine

[whalesharkgummer]

depop emmaeboddy