summary: you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.
warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people (including close family members), fluff, sexual tension, brothers best friend, drunk crying lol
a/n: sorry I haven’t posted properly in a while! here’s a shorter piece while I work on some more stuff <3 plenty to come x
Saying you were a bit drunk was a drastic understatement.
You were stumbling all over the place, heels becoming impractical now you were so intoxicated.
Harry, who knew you were going out with some of your family and friends tonight at the bar, had no idea what he was coming back to.
You don’t remember actually intending to get this drunk, but your Aunty had been egging the group on to do some shots, and before you know it you’re well past tipsy. Even your mum was getting drunker than you’d seen in years.
So all the other boys who’d gone out— including Harry— walk into the hotel bar. It was as chic as the lobby, just adorning some more neon signs and rustic bar stools.
Harry had gone out with them to look at a heap of shit that you and your female family members had little interest in. They’d insisted you all stay and just have a couple cocktails, since it was a holiday after all.
It was to their surprise when your same eager aunt bounded up to them when they popped through the door to the bar. They had expected tipsy, but not hammered.
“Oh my god!! You guys will not believe how good the cocktails are here!” She swooned, and they all glanced at each other with an amused chuckle.
“I think I just might believe it.” One of the boys piped up.
Most of them dispersed to find their significant others, family or friends amidst the bar, and see how much chaos was being caused.
But you’d b-lined straight for Harry, regardless of whether he was seeking you out.
His brows shot up when you collided with his side, “Harry!”
Your arms wrap around his middle and you end up latching onto him, practically using him to keep yourself upright.
“Oh!” He speaks in surprise, hands jumping up to brace around your lower back.
“Are you absolutely hammered too, love?” He chuckles and you bury your face into his chest.
“Yeaaaaa…” you drawl, a smile spreading onto your face.
“Everyone else is rounding up their partners. Suppose I’m in charge of you, yea?” He suggests, rubbing your back.
“Wanna—“ you hiccup, “have a drink with me?”
He shakes his head with amusement, “I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart. We should get you back to your room.”
Most of your drunk family were getting escorted out by their respective people, being taken up to their hotel room before they can drink themselves any sillier.
This included your brother, Leon, who had his longtime girlfriend pulled into his side, holding her half up and laughing a little at her drunken slur.
He came to a stop when he seen both of you, eyes flitting between your two figures. A small twitch of his brows suggested he wasn’t sure of how he felt about the sight.
“You got her?” He asks, a protective edge to his voice. One that drunken you missed easily as you stayed plastered against him— which is something sober you would not do in general, let alone in front of your brother.
Harry nodded straight away, understanding his defensiveness over you since he feels the same about Gemma. He said softly, “Of course, I’ve got her mate. I’ll take her up to her room.”
Leon glanced at you again. Harry and him met when they were 9, and they’ve been best friends since then. He trusts Harry with his own life, and knows he’d never ever do anything that would hurt you, but his protective side is still flaring up.
Only when his girlfriend, Brie, complains of feeling nauseous he curtly nods, and continues heading for the door.
You are again, oblivious to all this, running your fingers along the tattoos exposed on his forearm— his sleeves rolled up to his elbows— putting his gorgeous skin out on display for you.
“I loveee your arms.” You slur, and his eyes shoot from the door back down to you.
He rarely sees you this drunk, and you’re suddenly very close— making comments that for many reasons are bringing a flush to his face.
“Y/N, Jesus you’re hammered.” He shakes his head, still smiling.
He slowly starts walking, “Cmon, let’s go. Y’brother is expecting me to get you back to your room in one piece.”
“You definitely won’t have a drink with me?” You whine, taking a few steps backwards trying to tug him in the direction of the bar instead of the door.
“Nope. Maybe tomorrow if you can even stomach alcohol.” He pushes the doors from the dimly lit bar open, and leads you into the back of the lobby that it’s connected to.
You squint at the dramatic change in lighting, which is hardly helping your sense of perception, or lack thereof, from the alcohol.
Harry’s hand has taken yours though, leading you to an elevator.
You noticed how warm it was, smooth against yours, aside from the rougher pads of his fingers from the years of playing guitar.
Being so off it, you could not keep that thought to yourself.
“Your hands are so soft, H. Like silk.” You say as you walk into the first elevator to open, squeezing his hand.
“First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered.” He smiles, squeezing back.
“what floor are y’on, by the way? D’ya even remember— or are we a bit too wasted for numbers?” A teasing lilt is in his voice.
You half-laugh half-hiccup, “it’s… 7…?”
“You hardly sound certain about that.” He nudges you with a laugh, “It’s 12, we’re on the same one, remember.”
You laugh much harder than any sober person would, which makes it funnier to him. Since it was a mediocre joke at best.
You’re still laughing as you touch his chest with your palm, “you’re not funny.”
His gaze travels down to it, and he’s shocked at how touchy you are. You never do shit like this when you’re sober. His own amusement quickly takes the back seat, even though you’re still giggling.
However your face falls shortly after, laced with a curious gaze as you slide the neck of his long sleeve to the side, in search for the swallows inked onto his collar bones.
He watches as your eyes wander the small expanse of skin there, and how your fingers brush the tattoos.
“Having fun?” He asks, trying to joke again, but really he’s undeniably a little worked up.
“Yah, heaps.” You snap your gaze back up to him as you enthusiastically nod.
He hates the fact he’s blushing so hard right now over this, since you’re drunk and not completely in control, but he at the end of the day is a man with a very pretty girl— which happened to be you— pulling at his top like she wants it off him.
You hum to yourself, “Have such a pretty neck.” And you trail your hand up it, running a finger over his adams apple.
The elevator door opens like a blessing, and he quickly moves to make distance between the two of you.
“Can you remember your room number, darling? That’s one thing I actually don’t know.” He looks to you as you follow him out with clumsy moments.
“Uh… I dunno— wait I think the keycard is in my purse.”
He laughs at this— wondering if it will come to you in time once you sober up.
“Fuckkk.” You groan. “My purse is in Molly’s big handbag.”
The groan soon turns into a whine, because drunk and being slightly inconvenienced is not a good pair.
“It’s ok!” He amends quickly, trying to keep from having a drunken meltdown on his hands, “We’ll just got back to mine, only if you’re comfortable?”
He quickly prepares for you to not want that, “otherwise— I’ll call her, she didn’t seem too wasted, I’m sure she can—“
He’s interrupted by you, “I don’t mind going back with you.”
You say it with a confused look on you face, a tiny pout on your lips.
“Why would I be uncomfortable going with you?”
“Because… well— I’m not sure. I just wanted to leave you with other options.”
It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone together before— you’ve actually spent plenty, but just never with you drunk.
And so touchy.
“No. It’s ok. I love being with you!” You chuckle.
He leads you down the hall, pulling the keycard from his back pocket once he reaches his room, 3313.
The door clicks open, and he holds it open for you, following you in shortly after.
You’re still unstable on your feet, and one look at those heels, he’s surprised you haven’t ended up on the floor in the last ten minutes
They’re practically a health and safety issue. He can not imagine you getting them off right now— which is exactly what you’re about to bend over and attempt.
Before you can throw off your centre of gravity, he quickly says, “Go sit on the bed.”
You glance back over your shoulder, face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room.
“That’s a little forward, don’t you think, Harry?”
He toes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.
“So I can take your shoes off.”
You make the few steps left to the bed safely, and you sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?”
“Yes.” He walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh.
He fiddles momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf, and choosing to ignore the way your dress is riding up your thighs.
Christ. This is harder than he thought.
“I forget how hot you are sometimes.” You deadpan, and his jaw goes a little lax.
You’re usually playful, yes, but never do you breach into territory like this.
It was only others, like those at a family gathering, or your close friends, that would push to get stuff like that out of you like they were matchmakers.
There were many times that barbecues or some kind of event held at yours, Leon would invite Harry over. And if the two of you even interacted for just a second, someone in your family circle would tease you. Especially your own damn brother— it was a constant streamline of snarky comments from him.
“You are so drunk.” He mumble while pulling up your other foot.
You ignore his statement, thinking back to when he was a boy to now. He was cute— always was— but the way he looks now is just unmatchable.
“Have you always looked so… like… this?”
He chuckles, almost nervous, “what does question that even mean?”
“So pretty.” You clarify after a moment of trying to find the word.
“Ah, you’re only saying that because you’re plastered up the walls.” He laughs, and a dimple popped on his cheek, and your hand jumped into action before you could even think about it.
“Noooo, sober me thinks that too. She thinks you’re more than pretty.” You say, cupping his jaw, gently tracing the dimple that popped up.
He doesn’t know how to interpret any of this. His heart is jumping in his chest, and he’s trying to reason its genuinely just the alcohol in your system.
He holds eye contact as he slips off your other shoe, placing in neatly next to the other.
He stays there for a moment, unprepared for your next question.
“Can I kiss you?”
She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk…
“You’re drunk, sweetheart.” He says, and it’s painful— because he wants to, so fucking bad, but you’re not in a state to consent to literally anything at the moment.
And especially not in the mind frame to be making decisions like this.
You lean forward anyway, before he has a chance to avoid it, managing to meet his lips on your own terms.
He caved for a brief flash of time, and allows a second for himself to feel it, no longer than that though. Just a mere moment to take in the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. It takes so much strength for him to not kiss you back, he has to focus on the task at hand— sobering you up and getting you safely asleep.
He pulls back after that single moment, leaving his forehead against yours, “baby, I know, I really…” he cuts himself off.
A deep inhale and he stands up, “Not tonight. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. You can wear something of mine.”
He walks over to his suitcase, anything to remove you from his sight for a moment, to reset his thought process. He pulls out a tshirt and pair of gym shorts, hoping they won’t be too big on you.
Turning back around, he convinces himself he’s fine. Placing the clothes from his bag on the bed beside you, his hands come under your arms, helping you stand up on flat feet for the first time in hours.
You lean into the touch, turning around so he can undo the back of your dress.
The feeling of his fingers brushing your back have you going wild, and the way they gently slide the zipper of your dress down.
His eyes lock with the back of your lacy bralette and he chooses not to follow your skin any further down.
You use your hands to slip the straps off your shoulders— and very quickly the dress is pooling at your feet.
A shaky inhale passes through his nose as now you stand in just your underwear and a seemingly very pretty bralette.
He reaches and picks up his shirt from the foot of the bed.
“Do you want to… take this off before…?” He gestures to your bralette when he catches your eyes.
You nod, reaching behind you to undo the clasp and allowing it to slip from your shoulders to the floor.
Harry puts all his focus on getting the tshirt over your head to cover you up.
Once it’s over your whole frame, you can’t help but smile.
He’s so nervy and cute around you.
“Thanks, Harry.” You smile, suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of adoration for him hit you.
It inflated up in your chest, and bubbled deep into the pit of your stomach.
It killed Harry to watch it happen, and although he had no idea what kind of thoughts were going on in your head, just seeing you light up like that…
You wrapped your arms around his middle again, just like you did when you ran up to him in the bar.
He placed his hands in your hair this time, taking in your scent— which was mixing with his own now that your were in his shirt.
“Love, if you were sober right now. God.” He confesses.
“Im sober enough.” You beg, even though it’s such a lie.
He still shakes his head against you, “‘M not gonna be that guy, Y/N. I have waited years just to have you. I can wait another night. Or week. Or a whole ‘nother year if that’s what it takes.”
This hits you hard.
And it felt like your 15 year old self could hear it up in the confines of your head it rung through you that loudly.
She loved him then, more than she’d ever admit. And sure, you’ve grown up from 15, but yet never once did you grow out of him.
As noted early, being drunk and inconvenienced is not a good pair. But being drunk and having someone say or do something sentimental like that is another level.
Tears immediately start to fall from your eyes, and he feels your chest shake at the sudden outburst of emotion.
He pulls back, thinking he’s done something wrong, or said the wrong thing, and an apology was immediately on the tip of his tongue.
But relief thrums through him as you tug him right back into the hug, “that’s— that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“The nicest thing a boys ever told me.”
“Sweetheart.” He coos as you cry, his own voice wobbly with emotion.
He feels like he’s on a roller coaster. 5 minutes ago it seemed all he could think about was the unspeakable things wanted to do to you, and now he just wants to lay you down and hold you until you fall asleep.
He forgets the shorts on the foot of the bed, shuffling the two of you up to where the head of it is— which was still unmade from last night when he’d slept in it.
He tugs you into it, pulling you tightly too his chest as your heads hit the pillows.
And he just hugs you.
Eventually, your crying subsides off, and you enter an indescribably calm state.
“I love you. I don’t even know if you’re going to remember this in the morning.” He sighs, “but fuck, I love you.”
“I love you too, Harry.” You whisper, before your eyes begin to fall heavy, and those words were the last to leave your lips before you fell asleep.
back again guys, hello!
this is like an extended a/n, but I have a lil update. I saw harry for the very first time live 3 weeks ago. it was so so incredible, and the experience was by far the best time of my life. I miss harry so much i just feel sick ugh. he is perfect. auslot was amazing, he absolutely gave us his all.
that’s why I’ve been so absent on here, literally coping with my pcd a day at a time. I’ve written heaps but nothing I’m 100% happy with haha.
but anyways I just thought I’d share, thank you so much for your continued support and know there is plenty in the works x
You’re not typically an early bird, staying up late usually results in snoozed alarms and sleepy snuggles until you really have to leave the comfort of your bed. Today however, you’re up early and it’s probably because Harry is finally home and you feel like you shouldn’t miss any moment you get to spend with him before he needs to get back on the road.
Your boyfriend is sprawled out on his back, one arm above his head, the other one tucked under the pillow your head is resting on. The sheets has ridden down his torso, revealing the deliciousness of his naked chest that’s rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm as you watch him while lying on your side, taking in his beauty.
During the time you spend apart from him you always try your best not to dwell on how much you miss him, but whenever he is back home you realize just how badly you ache for his closeness when he’s away and how you never want him to leave again.
For a while you just look at him, admiring his side profile, his many tattoos, the gentle stubble on his face and the cheeky chest hair you’ve grown to love so much. But soon enough just watching is not enough, you can’t help but move closer, his butterfly tattoo pulling you closer like a magnet until your lips meet with it, peppering it with gentle, tiny kisses. Your hand wander up and down his side, then over his chest and to the base of his neck, fingers dancing along then chain of his necklace playfully.
You notice the moment he wakes up, you feel the change in him and you smile to yourself when he takes a deep breath and then you just keep kissing all over the butterfly. His left hand comes up to the back of your head, tangling through your hair.
“Good morning, Handsome,” you murmur against his soft skin, brushing your nose against his sternum.
“Mm, good morning,” he smiles, his eyes still closed as you push yourself up and your lips finally meet his in a sloppy, lazy morning kiss. “You’re up oddly early.”
He is usually the one to wake up first, sometimes he even goes for a quick run before you even pop an eye open. He doesn’t mind starting his day before yours, he often makes breakfast for the two of you and then maybe have a shower together. Mornings like that are your favorite.
“I know. Guess I was missing you in my sleep,” you hum, smiling against his lips before you lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arms around you.
“Is that so? Does it happen often?” he asks as he plays with a strand of your hair.
“All the time.”
“And what do you do then?”
You smile cheekily and rest your chin on his chest so you can look up at him.
“Do you want me to tell you or… show you?”
He looks down at you with hooded eyes as a smirk stretches across his face, his hand sneaking underneath your top, coming in contact with your naked skin.
“The latter. Definitely the latter.”
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just a little angst about better man (taylor's version)!
Sometimes in the middle of the night I can feel you again, but I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man.
You knew letting him past the front door was a bad idea, but you didn't always have the strongest resolve, especially when it came to your ex.
Harry was laying on the other side of your bed, his back turned to you as he slept soundly on familiar sheets. You should've been asleep, but it didn't come. So you stayed awake, staring at Harry's back as it rose and fell. You admired his broad shoulders, the constellation of freckles all over, the birthmark. It was a familiar canvas, but it wasn't yours anymore. Him being here didn't change that.
"I can feel you staring," Harry mumbled, words pushed together like he was still half asleep.
"Sorry," you said before turning over.
There were only a few beats of silence before you heard sheets rustling as Harry shifted and draped an arm across you. The scent of his cologne was dizzying as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
"Out with it then," he said, sounding a little more awake.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I know you, Y/n. You sleep like the dead unless something is on your mind."
He was right, of course, but that was part of the problem. He knew you too well.
"I just…miss you, that's all."
And God did you miss him. Harry was…well, you thought he was everything. For years, the two of you were inseparable, so incredibly in sync with each other. Harry brought out the best in you, made you comfortable in your own skin. He made you feel seen and taken care of and loved.
Until he didn't.
Breaking up with Harry was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It was messy, he didn't see it coming—which was another problem of its own—there were periods where you would somehow end up sleeping in each other's homes for days at a time afterwards, and the periods when those days ended felt soul crushing. Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself. Harry loved you, that was never a question. He just…he wasn't what you needed anymore.
"I miss you too. Constantly," he said. "But you don't have to, you know. Miss me. I've always been right here."
You kissed his arm. "I know, but we broke up for a reason, Harry."
He sighed, because he never could grasp why things ended, he couldn't figure out why you would ever want to leave him. As much as you loved each other, you were on different pages, wanted different things, became different people—or rather, he changed and you stayed the same. Harry was at a point in his career where the whole world was at his fingertips, and he wanted it too, wanted to reach and reach and reach. You didn't blame him for that, he was good at what he did, out of this world. But he'd made promises before, when he was just yours. When the world called, he changed his mind, and he wanted you to change yours with him.
Part of you knew that perhaps he'd made those promises out of fear of losing you, that he wasn't the type to believe in a simple kind of love. It always had to be more with Harry. And perhaps he wasn't aware, but you knew it was because he was afraid of love, of letting people see the worst parts of him along with the best. You knew that and fell in love with him anyway. He would be the one to break your heart but you let him do it happily.
"I love you. Can't that be enough?"
You did your best to hide a sniffle. "I wish it was, but something has always held you back from me," you said, your thumb running along his arm. "I won't settle for anything less than what I deserve."
"Then why keep letting me in?"
"Because you're a hard man to say no to, Harry Styles," you laughed, but it was more sad than humorous. Even as you talked about being apart, all you wanted to do was pull him even closer. In a lot of ways, Harry still felt like home. You were safe right there in bed wrapped up in him. "And despite my best efforts, I'm still in love with you."
Harry sighed and pulled you closer to his chest. "I want you. I can't even think about anyone else. It makes no sense for us to be broken up when we both want the same thing."
"But we don't," you said. "You want me on the sidelines cheering you on with no ambitions of my own."
"You want me to watch while others throw themselves at you and pretend like it's fine because it's all for show. You want me to be another trophy in your collection, Harry, and I—I'm so much more than that."
You twisted around to face him, only to find that there were tears lining his eyes. You hated seeing him cry. It always twisted your gut into a tight knot.
"Is that really what you think of me?" he asked, sounding hurt, betrayed.
"You told me you loved me, that you wanted me in your life, but I was never a part of it," you said.
Harry had promised that nothing would ever change, that he only wanted to take on the world if he had you by his side. And you believed him at first, but somehow you'd fallen to the wayside. He left you to fend for yourself at parties with people you didn't know, took on more opportunities and projects that kept him and you apart for longer periods of time, going out almost every night and sleeping through the day, leaving you such little time alone with him. Sometimes it felt like the only way to see him was in an interview or music video.
And the moments when you had him all to yourself were perfect. He was completely and totally yours. He doted on you, took you on dates, made you breakfast in bed. He made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and in those moments, you knew he loved you, that he would never be tempted by anyone else. Harry really was yours, you could feel it with every cell of your body.
But those moments were fleeting. He was gone for longer periods of time, and you didn't know how to make him understand that you needed him to stay longer than the few days off he got while touring. For a long time, those stolen moments were enough, until they weren't anymore. Harry stayed away longer, and you felt him slipping. The hand you had wasn't a winning one, so you folded before he could break your heart. Well, more than breaking up with him did.
This wasn't a life together, it was just his, and you were along for the ride.
"I wanted to build a life for us. I wanted to make myself into someone you would be proud of," he said.
Your smile was sad as you threaded a hand through his hair. "I've never not been proud of you. You've always been enough, H, I don't know why you've never seen it."
To say Harry was complicated was an understatement. Even when you met he had his fair share of demons. But everyone did, and you loved him as he was. As he began to gain notoriety, he began reinventing himself, to be someone that was loved by everyone. You knew who he was was enough, but you couldn't get through to him, he needed validation from the world. Once you realized how deep that insecurity was rooted, you knew you couldn't fix him, he needed to do it himself. And you deserved someone who wasn't so obsessed with seeking approval from others that they overlooked the people that loved them most.
"All I ever wanted was to give you the world," he whispered, his gaze trained on where your hand was still on his cheek.
"All I ever needed was you," you replied, moving your hand to rest it over his heart. "I'd like to believe that the man I met so many years ago is in there somewhere, but I can't count on waiting to see him again. I—I'm not going to put myself in a position to make you choose when I know what your choice would be."
You didn't really believe that fame was something that would ever change Harry, but it did. Or it preyed on his deepest insecurities, and he let it happen. You loved him, and it hurt to see him so broken, especially when he didn't even seem to realize it, but you couldn't hold his hand while he untangled his messes anymore.
"I love you," he said again. "I have never stopped loving you."
"I have seen every facet of who you are, and I've never loved you less, flaws and all," you said, and it was true. Despite everything, Harry was a hard person not to love, and there were moments where he made you feel like you were more important to him than anything else in his life. The secret smiles and stolen kisses and songs that were made just for you. He was the kind of person that burned so brightly, but that also meant he cast just as big a shadow, and those shadows could be all-consuming. "You're a good man, Harry. I just…I think I just deserve better than you."
Harry didn't argue with you about it. He didn't try to contradict you or give you a list of reasons why you should be together. He just hung his head and held you close, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. You let yourself rest your cheek against his chest, his skin warm and familiar. It felt so right to be there, you couldn't fathom anyone else feeling as good as Harry did. Maybe no one ever would.
Wrapped up like this, your eyes grew heavy, and it became harder and harder to stay awake. Harry hadn't fallen asleep yet, you could tell just by the erratic beat of his heart against your cheek. Moving your head just to the side, you kissed him right there, right where his heart laid beneath his chest. Your heart squeezed, as if it knew this was the last time you would be letting Harry through your front door.
Turning your head to the side once more, you let yourself fall asleep on his chest, a couple tears slipping past your tired eyes.
Still awake, Harry ran a hand through your hair, letting the silky soft strands fall through his fingers. "I can be better," he whispered. Not to you, but to himself. "I'll be better. I promise."
pairing: college student!grumpy!harry x college student!sunshine!fem reader
tropes: (kinda) enemies to lovers
series cw: angst, smut (minors dni!) fluff, sexual tension, drama, character development, drug use, alcohol consumption, foul language
wc: 2.1k words
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Y/N’s always loved mornings, she loves being able to wake and watch the sun rise. She loves being able to listen to nature’s song, the birds chirping, the different buzzing and humming of the insects and the various sounds of all the animals that stay around her house. She always wakes with a bright smile on her face and enthusiasm to start her day, she’ll turn on her favorite playlist and sing along as she begins to start her day.
Today was different though, she had stayed up much later than normal which caused her to wake with a slight frown and she huffs as she shuts off the blaring beep coming from her alarm clock.
“I get it, I’m up. Now shut up.” She mumbles as she tiredly rubs her eyes and stands up. She grabs the various sheets of paper strewn across the bottom half of her bed and stacks them neatly on the wooden nightstand next to her bed. She sighs as she stretches her arms over her head and leans back some, feeling slightly better as she feels her body loosening up.
She makes her bed, tucking the thick blanket underneath her pillow and making sure there’s no wrinkles anywhere before grabbing her phone and clicking on the ‘Music’ app and clicking her morning playlist. She smiles as ‘Evermore’ by Taylor swift begins to play as she walks over to her closet to pick out her outfit for the day. After several minutes of aimlessly searching through her clothes she settles on a white Ralph Lauren knitted sweater, a brown tartan skirt, some white open toe sandals and a small white mini purse.
She heads into her en suite bathroom and sets her outfit on the gray granite countertops before turning on the faucet and letting the water warm up. She hums along to the current song playing as she splashes the warm water on her face and dries her face slightly. She grabs her face wash and begins to do her daily morning routine, the small feeling of normalcy making her feel better already.
Once she’s dressed, done her makeup and in a somewhat better mood, she heads into the kitchen while singing along to ‘She Looks So Perfect’ and begins to grab a banana and some leftover oatmeal from the fridge. Making her way to the small dining room table, she sighs happily and sets the oatmeal down and begins to peel the banana and break it into small uneven pieces to eat in her oatmeal.
After eating everything, she washes the bowl and sets in the dish rack placed next to the sink and grabs her purse and her phone, putting all her essentials in the small bag and walking to the front door. Smiling as she shuts off the living room light and closes the door behind her, she begins to make her way to the front of her apartments complex and towards the small bike rack, filled with various bikes of all sizes and colors.
It takes her roughly less than twenty minutes when she reaches Tampa Bay University and sighs as she hops off her bike and ties it to the bike rack in front of her school. As she makes her way into the school, she stops as she notices a few new flowers on the side of the steps. As she makes her way over, she can feel her smile growing, the flowers are absolutely beautiful. They’re a beautiful shade of pink carnations, the bright color popping against the stark bricks of the stairs and she quickly takes her phone as she snaps a picture of them.
“The flowers’ not going anywhere. No need for the photography.” She hears a voice yelling from somewhere behind her.
She turns around and a frown appears on her face when she realizes who the voice belongs to. His long brown hair pulled back in a man bun, a cotton white t-shirt paired with a pair of light wash denim jeans and a black leather jacket. His signature smirk is plastered on his face as a couple of his friends laugh and pat him on the back. For as long as she can remember her and Harry have been at each others throats or more like he’s been dead set on giving her absolute hell since the start of their college years while she ignores him.
“M’serious, nothing special about those flowers. Shouldn’t you be getting to class anyways, miss goody two shoes?” He asks and snickers, her frown deepens as she messes with her purse and makes her way to the entrance door. Just before she opens the door, she turns around and stares him down, a small smile taking over the frown.
“I suggest you do the same playboy, last I heard failing English class isn’t gonna get you to graduate.” She yells back before quickly walking in the door and heading to her first class of the day.
While she loves her classes, loves interacting with the teacher and adding her input in on group discussions, the lack of her normal amount of sleep making her brain unfocused and easily distracted. Her eyes flit across the room with every sound that occurs, she can’t seem to sit still. She’s fidgety, her hands play with the pen in her hands as if she’s not supposed to be taking notes right now, she can’t stay focused on anything before her attentions being grabbed by something new.
Time seems to fly as she looks down at her bare page in the notebook; nothing written on it beside the title of her notes and she sighs. Quietly she leans over and asks the girl behind her if she can take a picture of her notes after class, she thanks her when the girl nods before going back to writing
A knock on the door grabs her attention and she watches the teacher make her way to the door. The clicking of her heels echo in the small classroom and finally her hand reaches for the door knob, she begins to twist it and pull the door open. She can hear him before she sees him, his voice carrying through as he speaks.
“Mornin’ Liz. How’s my favorite girl?” She watches as the teacher frowns and swats his arm as he goes to give her a hug.
“You’re late Mr. Styles. Have a seat.” She says as she makes her way back to her desk and Harry chuckles as he opens the door fully, his emerald eyes scanning the room.
The only available seat is next to Y/N and he scowls. Briskly walking over to someone at the table furthest from her and asking to switch seats quietly, they shake their head and he sighs. He walks over to another table and asks to switch and in response he gets another no. Frowning, he walks over to Y/N’s table and grabs the chair and moves it as far away as he can, mumbling a few words under his breath as he sits down.
Not bothering to pay attention, he lays his head down on the desk and closes his eyes. Allowing the outside noise to become faint murmurs, he bounces his leg quickly as he begins to drift to sleep.
“Can you stop please? You’re the shaking the table?” He huffs and rolls his eyes as he lifts his head.
“S’not bothering you.” He says and she shakes her head gently.
“I’m trying to take notes.” He scoffs as she points to her notebook.
“Of course you are. Gotta make sure you pass the exams, right? M’surprised you don’t have it all memorized.” He says and lays his head back down. He can hear her sigh and the crinkling of the paper as she moves over some towards the opposite end of the table. He snickers softly to himself before closing his eyes once more.
He wakes up to the feeling of someone’s hand on his shoulder, it’s soft and small and gentle as it shakes him. He groans as he sits up and stretches his arms over his head. When he turns he sees her standing next to him, her side of the desk cleaned up and the rooms silent.
“Whaddya want?” He mumbles and frowns, he’s never been on to be happy whenever he wakes up.
“Class is over, just figured you’d want to head wherever you need to go.” She says, her voice soft and sweet and he frowns once more.
“Uh huh.” He stands up and moves the chair back to its original position. He barely catches the sight of a small frown etched on her face before he’s heading out the door and onto his next class. He doesn’t care that she’s upset, she lives in her own world and doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that not everyone’s as nice as she is or was raised with such manners, it’s not his problem.
On the way to his next class, he hears his name being yelled from behind him. He turns around and sees the principal yelling and jogging his way.
“Harry! A moment please?!” He yells and Harry frowns. He knows what he wants to talk about, it can only mean one of two things, it’s either his failed midterm or be found out that it’s him graffitiing the various parts of the school walls and parking lots.
He shakes his head as he begins to walk opposite of the voice calling his name. He’s never been one to care about time and his grades so he waits until the last minute and does just enough work for him to be at a D level.
“Harry Styles!” The voice booms and he huffs before turning around and grumpily begins the short trek to the principal.
“Yea?” He says and crosses his arms, the principal nods shortly before asking Harry to follow him.
As Harry follows the older man into his office, he grumbles the whole time about how unfair and stupid all of this is. Passing by all the lockers and the small gaggle of students littering the halls as he walks, head held high and confidence is his walk because he can’t be seen being embarrassed. It’d be the end of the world if that were to happen.
When the principal opens the tall wooden door leading to his office, he steps aside to let Harry in and smiles as Harry mumbles a rough thank you in response. Sitting behind his dark oak desk and opening up his laptop, the sound of clicking filling the room as he types.
“So, Harry, you know why I brought you here?” The older man asks and Harry nods.
“Think so, s’about the midterm right? And if so I have some words. Knapick’s crazy if she thinks that test was anywhere near suitable to give to us. I suggest you look into that.” Harry says and the principal shakes his head.
He leans back and adjusts his glasses as he stares at Harry.
“No, Harry. It’s just you I believe. Almost everyone else passed the exam with at least a C average.” Harry frowns at that and shakes his head.
“No way, the test is rigged I tell you. I knew Knapick never liked me. She’s trying to fail me Oscar.”
“No, you barely did effort. And if you wanna be able to graduate on time, I suggest you get a tutor.” The principal says and Harry’s frown deepens.
“Yes, Harry. I’m serious. I’m trying to help, I can give you a list of our best tutors in the school.”
Harry shakes his head furiously, his bun slowly beginning to slip from the elastic’s hold.
“It’s either you get the help you need or you’re gonna be repeating, and you know you don’t have the best reputation with the staff.” Harry huffs and rolls his eyes once more.
“Fine, who’s on the list.” The principal sighs as he begins to list off the students name.
“I’d suggest Mrs. Y/N, she’s real patient and won’t fall for your game styles.”
“No game. I just have the charm the ladies want Oscar.” Harry says and smirks.
“But I don’t want Y/N, give me someone else.”
“I’ll see what I can do but I think she would be best. You’ll get the quickest response and I’m sure she works fast.”
Harry huffs obnoxiously loud as as uncrosses his arms.
“She makes me want to tug my hair out.”
“I’ll let her know. Have a good day Harry.” Harry grumpily walks out of the office and heads to the main door. His thoughts become a chanting of how much Y/N annoys him and why she has to be so smart and how life’s not fair.
If he had to be paired with her, he’d make it the worst tutor session ever. He’s really gonna make her life hell.
And with that, he gets in his car and starts driving to his house to begin his plan scheming.
tag list: @ch3rry-styles @lomlhstyles @lovrave @gotthecinema
Summary: Harry being away is hard on his kids, so until he comes home, they develop a tradition every night he plays.
Warnings: fluff, dadrry, brief mentions of underwear/nudity
Word Count: 882
A/N: Sorry this took so long, I've been down in the dumps lately so my motivation to post anything has been low :(
"Alright, everyone. Sit up straight for Daddy! He's calling soon!"
Your kids were buzzing with excitement as they waited patiently for the phone to ring. They were in their pajamas, ready for their concert tradition with Harry. They huddled around your laptop, holding their tea or stuffed animals as they discussed what Harry might have in store for them tonight.
The time change was difficult when he was on the other side of the world, but Harry always made time for the kids. If he had to call early in the morning, he would. If he had to call in the middle of a workout, he would. Harry took the moments he could spend with his family seriously, even if he was on the other side of the world.
You stood in the kitchen making some tea for yourself when your oldest shrieked: "He's calling Mummy!"
"Do you remember how to answer the phone?" You asked from around the corner.
"Yes!" They all responded.
"Okay, go ahead and answer. I'll be right there!"
There was a brief moment of eager silence when the kids picked up. You smiled to yourself and finished making your drink when you heard Harry's voice through the phone.
"Hi Daddy!" The kids said. "We miss you!"
"I miss you too! How is school?" He asked.
The kids rambled excitedly about science projects and book reports and choir performances and Harry listened enthusiastically to every word. He nodded eagerly and demanded pictures for every new accomplishment. When he watched you walk into frame, his already joyful face lit up even more.
"Hello, love." He said to you.
"Hi, baby. Where are you right now?"
"I'm backstage actually. Do you want to see?" he asked.
"Yes!" The kids watched intently as they got the tour of the small green room.
Harry showed them their drawings pinned on the wall and the teddy bear the picked out before he left sitting on the couch. When he set his phone up again, he was sitting on that same couch, holding the bear from his children.
"Okay, now that Mummy's here, I need your help deciding what to wear."
Harry rifled through his tour closet through jumpsuits, leather pants, and t-shirts. He showed the kids every single one, listening closely to their approval or disapproval. He loved this tradition with his family. It made them feel closer to him than they really were. He could connect with his kids consistently through this practice.
After a few minutes of searching, Harry set out the top three choices.
"Okay, which one out of all these?" The kids turned to you and huddled close.
"I like the teddy bear t-shirt." Your youngest said.
"Me too!" Said the oldest.
"I like the pink pants." Offered the middle child.
"I think that's a perfect outfit! Are you ready to tell Daddy what you think?" The kids nodded to you and turned around again to face Harry.
"Okay, baby. The kids have made their choice!"
"Alrighty, lay it on me!" He shouted dramatically, making the kids giggle.
"We want the teddy bear t-shirt and the pink pants!" Said the youngest. The kids all had their hands folded in anticipation while Harry set out their choice.
"Hmm." He pretended to think. "Let me try it on for you."
Harry disappeared off camera for a minute before coming back to grab his clothes. He tossed his old shirt across the camera, putting on a show for the kids. His pants went flying off next, and your youngest couldn't contain the laughter falling from their lips.
"Daddy's naked Mummy!" They all shrieked, laughing harder than before.
"Just in my underwear! But not for long!" Harry shouted distantly off camera.
After a moment of silence, Harry poked his head back into the frame. He smiled brightly at you and the kids.
"Alright, are you ready to see it?" He asked.
"Yes!" You all responded.
Harry disappeared for a second and walked back into frame wearing the outfit his kids picked out for him.
"What do you think?" He asked you all, doing a spin and pose.
"You look very handsome." You smiled.
"Ew, they're in love." Your oldest cringed.
Harry was beaming at your praise. He watched as the kids smiled at him and finished their drinks. He did a small dance and showed them his shoes before checking the time.
"Alright, I've got to run. Are you being good for Mummy?" He asked.
"Yes." Your kids responded.
"Are you being good to each other?" He asked again.
"Yes." They replied.
"Good. Line up and give me kisses before I sing!"
One by one, you all lined up and blew Harry a good luck and good night kiss. He caught every single one and threw them back. When everyone was finished, he waved goodbye and sent one final kiss your way before ending the call.
"Okay, everyone, up to bed you go!"
The kids groaned and slowly dragged their feet up the stairs. You tucked each of them into bed and just as you were turning in for the night yourself, you noticed a message from Harry.
Thank you for doing this every night. I miss you all so so much! I'll be home before you know it! xx Dad
Harry sat on the edge of their bed, his eyes fixed on his wife as she stood at her vanity table, getting ready for bed. He couldn't help but feel a rush of love as he watched her. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever set his eyes on, and he felt so lucky to be married to her.
As Y/N brushed her hair, she caught Harry's gaze in the mirror. She blushed, feeling shy under his intense stare. She had seen him look at her like that before, with so much love and admiration in his eyes. It was a look she knew all to well from him.
Harry smiled at her, the corners of his lips lifting up in a soft, tender expression. He felt so grateful for this moment, for the opportunity to just sit and admire his wife.
As Y/N finished getting ready, she turned to face Harry, feeling a warmth spread through her chest as she met his gaze. She could see the love and tenderness in his eyes, and it made her heart swell with love for him.
Without a word, Harry stood up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. Y/N rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.
They stood like that for a few moments, just holding each other, reveling in the warmth of their love. Harry knew that he would never tire of holding Y/N in his arms, of feeling the weight of her body against his.
As they pulled away from the embrace, Y/N looked up at Harry, feeling a rush of love and gratitude wash over her. She knew that they had something special, something that would last a lifetime.
“You’re so beautiful,” Harry’s voice was so soft and so gentle, and only for her. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin against his lips.
He loved this woman more than anything in the world, and he knew that he would spend the rest of his life cherishing and adoring her.
As they climbed into bed, snuggling up together under the covers, Harry couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. He had the love of his life by his side, and he knew that there was nothing that they couldn't face together.
Y/N L/N (34) is going to be a mother again!. It appears the actress is expecting a child with fiance Harry Styles (29). "We’re already so in love with him and he’s not even here yet" she captioned the post on Instagram.
The Oscar winning actress revealed this Friday she was pregnant again by posting a picture on instagram. In the picture, Y/N is standing on a green meadow. Lifting up the white shirt, a growing belly peeks out. According to People, it was Harry who took the picture of his fiancé.
Among those congratulating in the comments section are some of Harry’s and Y/N’s peers. And it appears the couple aren’t revealing exactly when their baby is due or how far along Y/N is.
It’s unclear when and how the couple met, the bottom line is that Harry and Y/N have known each other through mutual friends since 2018 but got together sometime in January of 2021.
The pair made their first red carpet debut together on September 2022 at the 79th Venice international film festival And they looked, to say the least, in love
This is Harry’s first child together with the actress, who he proposed to secretly last November, after dating for nearly two years.
This isn’t Y/N’s first child however, as she already has two sons, D’Angelo (10) and Xavier (7) from a previous relationship with a non-famous man.
The couple have kept any plans for the wedding date a secret but according to some of our sources they will tie the knot sometime in late 2023.
hi. a long awaited and need part 9 thank you all so much for all the love and support i appreciate you all so so so much. thank thank you thank you a special thank you to @cherryscinema :D CHECK OUT HER BLOG BTW SHES THE BEST ! i love love you thank you so much for helping me out with this part :) have a great week all of you ! i love love you i hope ur all doing amazing !
anyways talk to me in the asks ! don’t be shy friends let’s talk about anything and everything at anytime ! if you want to be added to the tag list don’t forget to ask !
let me know what you think of this part it was awfully draining to write :O don’t forget here’s the series masterlist !
song for this chapter ! this is me trying by our queen and savior ! taylor swift ! don’t forget to check out the series playlist
Anne rushed to Harry’s place after hearing his broken voice on the phone. She was close to her son this time and urged to comfort him and hold him in the way she knew he needed and wanted. She was his mother, it was her job to take care of him under any circumstances and decisions that he might have had, and throughout it all it was her job to comfort him and love him through it all. That’s why Anne was currently on the short drive from Y/N’s house to her son’s house to comfort him while he breaks in her arms.
Y/N was left confused much less than concerned in the bathroom with her dog soaked in the bathtub. Anne had taken the call, heard Harry’s tone and practically rushed out her door telling her that if she wasn’t back tonight that she would see her in a few days. She worried more so for Anne and the condition she had been left with after she had taken the call. She had never seen her in such a shaken worried state and in tears from simple words that had come out of her son. Y/N only let her mind wander to what Harry could have possibly gotten himself into before she stopped herself from drowning in concern and worry. She knew it wouldn’t be good for her and she also knew that she didn’t want to touch the topic of Harry that wandered freely in her mind. If Harry chose not to be around her at the point she needed him the most then why should she offer him herself in support of him when he abandoned her in such a way?
She knew she was better off being alone with her dog then running back into Harry’s arms even if she still was in love with him. Eventually the love she had for him would fade, but that would only occur if she simply never fell into his arms again. And if she had gone up to his house with Anne she knew she would be falling for him just as hard as it was to get over him. It seemed unmanageable to get over Harry in the past, but being 5 months pregnant and occupied with the attention of work and a dog, she seemed to be getting over him slowly, with only a few occasional thoughts of him here and there.
Of course Y/N could go on her own without Anne for a few days. She had done so for most of her pregnancy so far she only had occasional visits from Anne when given her ultrasounds dates. And that was her main concern, the fact she had an appointment in two days and she didn't know if Anne would be there or not. She assumed herself that if Harry was in a desperate measure of comfort, Anne would be spending the rest of her stay days that would be with her with Harry. That’s what brought her to main worry, dealing with being in a hospital on her own. Her and hospitals do not have a good history which is why she despises any form of doctor or appointment that requires her going to a hospital. Whenever she was forced to have an appearance in such a place she used to drag Harry with her, but now she had Anne, and with Anne she felt as if she didn’t need Harry which is probably why she felt as if she was getting over him slowly as well.
“Worst comes to worst Cuddles” Y/N lifts the dogs legs from the tub he was happily in, “We’ll just call Gemma right” She groans as she finally gets Cuddles out of the bathtub in front of her, “Stay here” She tells him pointedly with a smile, “I’m going to go get your towel.” The one thing about Cuddles, was that for a dog, he was spoiled. He had the biggest playing area in her backyard, the biggest playing area in her home, a big dog bed, and an even bigger collection of toys. That wasn’t only her fault, everyone around her loved the dog, he had a charm that no other dog seemed to have and that’s what made Cuddles even more special to her. She makes her way back into the bathroom where Cuddles was sitting with a dog smile plastered on his face and barking when she sees him. “Okay here’s what you’re gonna do” She points at him with a smile, “You’re either going to follow me, or you’re going to go sleep in your bed. Got it?” She asks him and almost like he understands her he barks in response.
Y/N makes her way back into the in progress nursery room right next to her room and takes a brief look around the room. Anne and herself had managed to paint the room the cutest shade of green that simply warmed Y/N’s heart, and she knew that everything else she had to add into the room was only going to warm her heart even more. All she wanted was the best and perfect place for her baby and she hoped that by building this nursery she was in the right direction in providing the perfect place for her baby. Taking a breath she plops herself onto the floor of the room, and drags over the box of the crib that’s near her briefly looking over the box before simply tearing it open. “‘I’ve got to start somewhere don’t I?” She says to herself before she's taking out every type of wood assortment in the box. Before she can talk to herself again she hears the patter of Cuddles running his way into the room. She turns over at the noise and soon enough he’s right in the doorway, “Alright Buddy” She calls him over, “We’re in for a long one with this” She points to the crib box, “So If i were you I would just watch, cause one of has got to do the building and I think that would be” She laughs lightly knowing that the dog doesn’t understand her at all but yet feeling the support he has to offer into the space of the room that will soon enough home the new best friend of her and the dog.
As for Anne, true like her thoughts had told her she was sitting on the floor right next to her son’s doorway with her son falling right apart in her arms. She felt bad for him, regardless if she knew the background of the state he was in. Looking around her son’s home she felt crushed and broken herself seeing the several broken items, vases, pictures, anything and everything seemed to be broken on her son’s floor. It wasn’t until she saw that every picture frame that was broken on her son’s floor were pictures of him and Fallon. Every other picture he had among his walls on furniture, they were all in place except the ones with none other than Fallon.
She had rushed out of Y/N’s house so quickly she almost got lost on her way to Harry’s home. She had left Y/N’s place so quickly she never even had a second thought on what Y/N would say or do when she left her house. But a part of her knew the girl wouldn’t mind much if she was rushing out to help her son. Through the days Anne would spend with Y/N she saw the girl shift in no longer relying on the support system Harry had offered her for so long. Y/N seemed to be moving on, and Anne was not shy to admit the fact that she was proud of her for doing so. She knew the hurt Harry had caused Y/N she watched the girl fall apart for days over the thought and mention of her son. The question of what was going through Y/N’s mind as she rushed out her doorway never really came to Anne because she was so set on getting to her son. Much like she had to comfort Y/N when she lost Harry, it was Anne’s job to comfort her son and that’s what she was going to do.
Anne felt bad. She felt terrible and a part of herself wanted to feel guilty. She was a mother she was allowed to hurt when her son was falling apart in her arms. But never did she want her son to hurt like this, she had seen Y/N hurt like this too much and guilt had always drowned her body, to see her son hurting like this made her feel sick. Anne knew her son had not been the best person on the face of the earth within the past months, but even acknowledging and knowing so she knew he didn’t deserve to be in such pain as he was in. Harry wasn’t even letting out words to his mother, it was much simply sobs, and mumbles of words she couldn’t put together.
She gathered he was clearly intoxicated upon seeing the several bottles laid around him, and it only made her feel more resentment towards her son. She couldn’t exactly pin out why she felt so bad for him, maybe it was because he was her son, But deep down she knew that regardless if she liked to admit it or not, her son had this looking out towards himself. Harry abandoned Y/N so easily and watching it all hurt Anne more than it seemed to hurt Harry, and he seemed now to be hurting the way Y/N did and never did Anne want to see Y/N or Harry, and even Gemma go through a pain like this ever. Yet again here Anne was watching one of her children fall apart in her arms and feeling complete resentment at the person in her arms.
“Harry” She lets her hand run through his hair, “Love you have got to calm down” She tries to soothe him, but when she looks down she’s not even met with her son’s eyes, only the dark color of his hair was what her eyes saw. “Come on, Harry” She sighs lightly trying to at least get him to look up at her.
This time, Harry responds, and Anne can actually put together the two words he lets out from his mouth. “I’m alone” He cries into his mother.
“Oh Harry” Anne feels tears consume her vision, her son has no idea that this was the exact fear of his best friend, the same pain he caused her, he is now feeling on his own, “You’re not alone” She as soft as possible tries to reassure her son, “You’ve got me, Gemm-”
“But I don’t have them mum!” Harry pushes himself out of the seemingly tight hold his mother has on him. He wanted his mother to comfort him, but he was letting his frustration from his pain take over him, and Anne knew she knew her son constantly did this in his emotional outbursts.
“Harry” She got up and tried to make her way closer to her son wanting to hold him in her arms to comfort him, but Harry simply kept moving away and began to pace the open area in front of his mother.
“They’re both gone” He shook his head, “I’m alone” He repeated to himself. Anne tried to get his attention while he chanted the same words to himself only causing him to break further.
Only when it got to the point that Harry had repeated the words, “I’m alone” so much to himself it started to break Anne and that was when Anne simply went up to her pacing son and wrapped her arms around him to soothe his words. Like always the boy simply fell into her embrace.
“Love there are so many people out there” She whispers to her son as he shoves his face into his mother’s neck. “There’s so many people that are going to here with you, I promise you Harry you’re never going to be alone”
“I lost the two girls I wanted the most in my life mum” He cried to his mother desperately, “I only wanted them!”
Anne immediately knew he was referring to both Y/N and Fallon. Her heart ached for him, she knew he had led himself into losing Y/N but never did she expect or want to hear that her son would go through the heartbreak of Fallon so soon after. She couldn’t possibly imagine the hurt he was feeling knowing that he deemed Fallon as the one he was meant to be bonded with forever. She couldn’t imagine it and the best she could ever do was comfort him.
Anne didn’t have much to respond to Harry with his desperate pleas and words. “Harry” She grabbed her son’s face from the place in her neck, wiping his tears “You’ll be okay, I’m here, love” Harry only cried harder at her words and her heart only ached more for her son.
After silent moments of his sobs, Anne finally decided that it was time to try her best and get her son to sleep. She knew the man could only soothe his pain and cries if he went to sleep, he wouldn’t have to face the pains he was enduring himself in. “Let's get you to bed darling” She continued to run her hands through his messy short hair. When she felt his head nodding to her she sighed in relief, and soon enough the two of them were making their way up the stairs to get into bed. Anne watched her son take slow steps across his room, picking out his pajamas and looking around as if he was so unaware of his surroundings, and her heart broke even more. Her son didn’t seem to be feeling at home in his own home.
Harry walked over to his desk, leaving Anne confused as to what he could possibly be looking for in such a place at such a time. But when he stopped in front of the desk her heart broke even more than it already had been. Anne watched as Harry grabbed the picture frame in front of him and clutched it to his chest. He turned to her and if watching her son in this state hadn’t shattered her heart, then this definitely had him stomping on her heart.
Harry always found comfort in Y/N. After a long day of interviews, continuous shows, album releases, there was a constant through it all and it was Y/N. Whenever she sensed he was being overpressured, or knew he wasn’t doing his best or feeling his best Y/N was there. She was everywhere whenever she needed him, and Harry couldn’t explain how grateful he was for her. She took care of him when he couldn’t take care of himself, and the most she ever did was take care of him when he wasn’t himself. In true form and works, Y/N had shaped everything Harry had ever worked towards. He knew if she wasn’t at his side like she constantly was, he wouldn’t have reached the level he had with his career. She quite literally had designed every single thing in his closet, and every single thing he could have worn in his life since knowing her. Y/N was there whenever he needed someone the most. Whenever he longed for the comfort his mother was so far away to reach for, Y/N was there. She was there, and when she needed him the most he had left. Harry had left her on her own. Now as he clutched the picture of the two ex best friends into himself, he wished he had never left her on her own. He wished that she was there like she always was for him. He cried because she wasn’t there because of his own fault. He cried because he put himself through this. He cried because he wanted the love Y/N had to offer him. He cried because he wanted to be the comfort she had always offered him.
Harry did eventually get into his bed. Anne managed to get her son into bed into much defiance and struggle that came from him. She managed to get him to bed, but she didn’t manage to get him to let go of the picture of his hold. Harry went to bed with the picture of him and Y/N clutched into his chest, and his tears falling onto them. He fell asleep with a great ache and pain going through his body and his heart, and he knew that he deserved to go through the pain he was crying out of. He deserved it, and he fell asleep crying because he knew that he deserved it.
Y/N she wasn’t in bed, she wished she was, but no she wasn’t. She was laid on the carpeted floor, huffing at the strength it took her to put together a crib. Who knew the amount of strength one would need to put together a crib. She never imagined it would have taken her the span of 2 hours. She assumed that by an hour she would be up and putting up the bassinet set she had bought. But nope it was now 12 and she was laid on the ground trying to catch her breath after she had used all her energy and strength to build a single crib.
If simply painting the room and building a crib took all of Y/N’s night she didn’t know how much longer it would take to fully get the room perfected. But nevertheless she was excited for the process and the outcome, she was just exhausted, and hungry.
“We need a long break after this one don’t we buddy” She huffed out turning her head to look at her dog, “Oh of course! You’re sleeping” She groaned and lifted herself up from her spot, quickly glancing around the room. Even though she was five months pregnant now it still took her a bit to fully come to terms and process. She was having a baby in just four months. She was going to have a baby. Something she never imagined, something she had never thought of. Never had she thought she would end up where she was now. Building a nursery room for a baby she was going to have. Never did she think that if she were to have a baby Harry wouldn’t be there.
When Y/N had thought of her future, Harry was always there, no matter what in any way shape or form, her best friend, the person she called her lover was there. Now that he was gone, she seemed to have quickly adjusted to a life without him. She figured if he can kick her out of his life that quickly, then she could easily adjust to a life without him. Surely and slowly she was, he rarely crossed her mind, but when he did it only brought an agonizing pain and panic surface into her body and mind. The man she had loved for so long had turned to be one of the men that she almost feared to be near. Not because of the person he was, she knew that deep down even everything the man had put her through recently, Harry was an amazing person with an amazing heart. But she feared the damage he would continuously do to her, she feared what else he would break in her, she feared that if she were to let him back into her life he would not only break her but break her child’s heart.
Her baby was the most important thing in her life currently. Even if they weren’t born yet she wanted to protect them at all costs and she would do whatever it possibly took to make sure her baby was safe from anything and everything even if they had yet to face the world. But she knew that if she had to go through heartbreak she would protect her baby from the aches of heart she had been enduring for years in any way that she could until she no longer could. But if staying away from Harry was what it took, then she would stay out of his way like he desired.
Y/N finished off cleaning all the little bits of trash that were scattered across the room of the nursery, and settled on leaving Cuddles sleeping in the work in progress room. She had no energy to lift his weight up and possibly settle him on her bed or in his own bed, so she simply left him to his peaceful slumber. Either way she knew that the soft dog would find its new home in the same room in the coming four months. Sighing she put all her energy into getting down the stairs of her home getting a quick snack and then making her way up the stairs once again getting into her room and quickly going through her night routine, making sure to leave the door of her room open just in case Cuddles awoke in the middle of the night and made his way into the room. She got into bed and let her mind take over the future she had ahead of her with her baby with the occasional question of what Harry could be going through at the moment.
Anne awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. Thankfully not to the sound of her son vomiting his insides in the toilet after last night, but the sound of her phone ringing going through Harry’s guest room. Groaning, she glanced at the clock that was settled on the nightstand next to her. Her eyes widened when she came to notice the time hitting noon. She reached out towards her phone and upon seeing the contact name of “Y/N” she quickly answered the call.
“Anne?” The girl let out what Anne heard to be a harsh gasp into the phone.
“Y/N?” Anne began to rub the sleep out of her eyes, “Are you alright darling?”
“I can’t find the jelly and you were the last to use the jelly.” Y/N quickly spoke into the phone and Anne only giggled at this being the reason the girl was calling her. Of course she would be the one to call her at almost noon asking her where the jelly was. But to Anne’s dismay she was helpless; she had no recollection of using the jelly at all, much less knowing where it was.
“Love, I don’t ever remember using the-” Y/N interrupted her easily and quickly.
“Anne, you used it yesterday morning for toast.” Anne had used hazelnut spread. Not Jelly. She remembers because Y/N specifically asked her to not use the jelly because she didn’t like the strong smell.
“Love, I used the hazelnut spread” Anne let out a chuckle at the girl insistence.
“Anne!” Y/n was beginning to become frustrated, and it didn’t help that Cuddles was right at her feet trying to jump onto her legs, “Cuddles, Let’s not” Anne heard her try to calm the dog over the phone.
“Darling I swear I used the spread because you said the smell of the jelly wasn’t being nice to you” Anne reminded her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom in the guest room.
“I really wanted jelly today” The girl began to cry over the phone to Anne, and for once Anne didn’t feel a pang in her heart about one of her children crying she found it rather comical but she wasn’t going to admit that to the soft girl over the phone, she knew it would only send the girl into a deeper spiral of tears over jelly.
“Darling” Anne tried to hide her light laugh through a sigh, “You can head off to the store can’t you?” She lightly asked her, trying not to make her cry even more.
“I don’t want to” Y/N cried, “If I do that means I have to take Cuddles cause he’s being extra clingy today and-”
“Love” Anne tried to interrupt her but it didn’t work.
“The baby has been kicking all morning and I really don’t feel like carrying Cuddles into,” The girl continued to blabber on to Anne until she cut her words off herself, “Oh my god Anne”
“Yes Love” Anne let her laugh sound through the phone this time.
“ I found the jelly” She wiped her tears and laughed lightly at herself, “It was right in front of me” She shook her head even though Anne couldn’t see her. “I’m sorry” She let out quietly after not hearing Anne say any word back to her.
“Oh love don’t be sorry” Anne laughed, “I’m happy this was what I woke up to”
“You’re just waking up?” Y/N asked the lady over the phone. She knew Anne was one to wake up early and get her day started in the bright of the day.
“Yeah, we had a long night over here” Anne sighed knowing that if the girl even knew about the situation she would run her mind crazy and that was the last thing she wanted her to go through at the moment.
“Is he okay” Y/N felt as if she was obligated to ask, even if it wasn’t to know about the state Harry was in, but rather how Anne was after seeing him in such a state.
“He’s okay” Anne sighed, “He’s going to be okay” Anne was almost telling herself those words more than she was telling Y/N.
“He’ll be okay” Y/N repeated after Anne, “He’s got you, he’ll be alright, he’s got the best person to support him that is out there” Y/N smiled into the phone and the words simply made Anne melt and want to break into tears over the emotional exhaustion she had to endure herself.
“Thank you love” Anne softly told her not knowing exactly what to say. She knew that if she mentioned what had Harry had done with the pic of the two last night it would only make the girl feel bad, and she knew Y/N had no reason to feel bad, she knew her son had been cruel to her and she wasn’t going to allow Y/N to simply walk back to him like that after he had thrown her out in such a way. As much as she loved her son and as much as she knew her son needed it, she wouldn’t allow Y/N to do so.
“I’ll get back to my sandwich making so you can go take care of him, yeah?”
Anne let out a light laugh at the girls words, “Of course love, you get back to your sandwich I’ll see you soon”
“I love you Anne” The girl told her before Anne was repeating the words and the call was quickly ended. Anne sighed upon the day she had ahead of her. She didn’t know what could possibly come from her day with Harry. She got herself ready for what was the rest of the day ahead of her before she finally made her way up to her Son’s room.
She expected her son to be asleep, she didn’t expect him to be on the floor of his room once again in tears with every single picture of not only him and Fallon, but of him and Y/N as well. But this time Anne only sighed and her heart didn’t break for her son, it only resented him.
“Oh Harry” She sighed as she made her way over to him and took her place right next to him on the floor. She looked at every photo around him, all of them which she had seen or hadn’t seen, but every photograph had a story, one that Anne didn’t know but that Harry cherished always.
“I miss them” Harry looked up at his mother with tears in his eyes, “I’ve really lost everything now mum” He continued to cry while looking at his mother next to him. “I don’t know how I could let myself lose them both” Harry is only now beginning to process how badly he had fucked up. He lost Y/N and he never wanted it to lead to losing her ever. He lost Fallon and of course it hurt him because he truly thought that Fallon was the one, he thought she was the one he was meant to be with and she threw it all in his face.
“Harry” Anne picked up Harry’s hand from his lap, “I know it hurts, but if you just sit here it’s not going to change anything. I know moving on from Fallon won’t be easy-”
“She said she didn’t love me.” Harry interrupted his mother words, letting out the same words that hurt him to hear from Fallon, “She said she didn’t love me and she never has, she led me on for three years mum” He looked right into his mother eyes with tears drowning his face, “She only wanted me for everything I had except for me”
Anne took in his words slowly and it hurt to know that the girl had been so sweet to her and everyone around her son only for her to have been playing an act for three long years. The girl hid her reality of emotions behind the person Harry was. She hid her true self behind Harry’s kindness and generosity, making her seem like the ideal woman for her son when she was the exact opposite. “Well she missed out on the love you have to offer Harry” Anne had no other words to voice to her son she didn’t know what to say that could have possibly made him feel better at this point. She could never possibly imagine what it was like to be so in love with someone and then be told that the person had never loved you back. It hurt her to hear that her son had to go through that heartbreak.
“I love her mum” He cried his voice laced with pain, “I loved her and she just walked away as if nothing! She laughed about it to mum” His cries only became louder as he picked up a new picture of him and what was once the love of his life. “Mum she made me leave Y/N because she wanted me to herself, and she didn’t even love me! She had this sick idea where if I was all hers then maybe she would love me, but she just got tired of me. She got tired of me mum.”
Harry repeated his words almost as if he was still trying to process them himself and Anne only moved to embrace her son tighter. “I left Y/N when she needed it the most for her.” He glanced at his mother who only had to offer a soft sad smile at him, “I walked away so easily from her because I really thought she was the one. I wanted her to be the one and she just threw me out. I left Y/N for her.” Harry’s reality hit him, he had really left his best friend behind just for the sake of having the one right in front of him. He had simply thrown Y/N out as if she had never meant a single thing in his life or to him. He was just now realizing that he was the person Fallon was to him yesterday to Y/N.
As Harry’s thoughts ran wild over how much he had damaged Y/N Anne practically said it all to him. All of his thoughts seemed to be voiced by his mother.
“You did the exact same thing to Y/N Harry. You threw her out so quickly over Fallon, and now Fallon’s thrown you out. Darling it’s all coming back to you” Anne told him as nicely as she could not want to damage her son more. Through all the pain he was feeling she wanted him to realize the kind of person he had been in the past months to Y/N.
“Mum” He fell into his mother harder, fully into tears, “Do you think I will ever find someone like Y/N again.” He feared the idea of never having a best friend or person in his life ever again. He would end up alone, he would end up living his fears. His fears and insecurities were becoming his world and that was the one thing Y/N always made sure to not let Harry fall into. If Harry was deeply honest, what hurt him the most out of the two heartbreaks he was enduring was the fact he lost Y/N. What hurt him the most was what he was feeling and going through right now was what Y/N had to go through when he walked out on her.
“Oh Harry” Anne looked at her son, “I can’t answer that for you” She told him the best that came to her mind. In reality she knew that Harry and Y/N would either end up as friends once again or simply be better off without each other. For her son’s sake she wished the two would find a way back to each other, but for Y/N’s sake she wished her son would stay out of her way. The girl was only now getting over him, and she knew if he were to simply walk back into her life it would be no good for Y/N.
“Would she ever want to be my friend again?” He cried the desperate question that was floating into his mind.
“Harry” Anne sighed, “I don’t know. You did so much damage to her in saying all that you said to her” She told him the truth even if it hurt him.
“I didn’t mean it mum I swear-”
“But you said it Harry, and you said everything that you knew would hurt her when she needed you the most, Harry. That’s what hurt her the most Harry, you did it all when she needed you the most. Now she adjusted to not needing you anymore, she’s doing fine without you”
“She’s doing fine without me?” It hurt Harry to hear. Even though he didn’t want her to be drowning in pain, especially pregnant, it hurt him to know how casually she sounded to be doing without him. Here he was drowning in pain and his mother had just told him the girl who he hurt so badly had now adjusted to being perfect without him.
“Harry she’s five months pregnant now” Anne softly smiled thinking of Y/N, “She has much more to worry about then what could have possibly happened if you hadn’t left her in such a state. That girl was crying and was miserable for days after what you told her Harry, and now she’s over it she has other things to do than cry over you at this point Harry.”
Harry let himself fall into his mother’s chest, he was proud of Y/N he knew how strong she was but he wished he was by her side through it all. “She’s doing all that alone. She doesn’t need me anymore” He cried into his mother’s chest, “Just like Fallon didn’t need me, she doesn’t need me either.”
“It’s not like she doesn’t want you, Harry.” Anne reminded him softly, “Out of everyone who has wanted you the most in her life, she has wanted you the most Harry, she was open for you whenever you were closed for her. Now she’s closed and you’re open Harry”
“I didn’t ever want it to turn out like this” He looked up at his mother from his spot in her chest, “I just wanted to be happy with Fallon and have Y/N on my side.”
“But when Fallon made you choose, you chose her” Anne began to run her fingers through her son’s hair.
“She was supposed to be the one mum!”
“That’s what Y/N thought of you Harry, that’s what she wanted in you.” Anne let the feelings of the girl slip out of her mind. She never once thought that those words would ever escape from her mouth and slip into the ears of her son. She knew that among everything Y/N has trusted her with this was one the biggest things. Now she had gone and let out the girls’ most trusted words in the sake of comforting her son, and Anne quickly felt the slow guilt consume her slowly.
“She thought I was the one?” Harry quickly picked himself up from his spot in his mother's comforting chest, “Mum?” He tried to get her attention, “She- she was in love with me?” He let the words process into his mind and he simply could not process everything the two had been through and promised each other that the girl was once again in love with him.
The truth was, one year into the friendship of Y/N and Harry they had both mutually fallen in love with each other. It happened when Harry had Y/N tour with him, he had fallen in love with the outfits she had continuously made for him and practically demanded her to join him on his first debut tour. The people pleaser Y/N was she joined him on his tour not ever thinking that the two would fall so badly for each other. Harry had fallen in love with not only her style of designing but he had fallen for her too, and Y/N was quick to fall right behind him. Everyone on the tour crew could see it and notice it, there was no possible way one could have been blind to it.
One night when Harry had gone off with the band for drinks he came extremely drunk. Immensely drunk that Mitch called the only person he knew would be able to contain the man in such a state, Y/N. Y/N was quick to respond to the call and almost immediately made her way over to the spot the crew was hanging out at to be at Harry’s care. She was quick to get the drunken man into her car and get him back to his hotel room. But it was a hassle, the man was full of several words and silly tactics. Among his words was his confession of love for the girl, and the girl had reacted so quickly in running out of the man’s room when he settled to sleep. She feared the idea of having her best friend turn into her lover, she feared that she would end up losing him in everything they were pushing themselves towards. She feared everything that came with being with Harry, but she never once feared the man Harry was.
Y/N practically hid from Harry for the course of a week. She of course had her work of the various suits he wore done for him, but she always had Sarah or anyone else around her deliver it to him. She had found a way to avoid him at all costs, even when he was constantly blowing up her phone, even when everyone that was near her was telling her the amount of times Harry had been asking around for her. It was affecting Harry and everyone could tell, his temper began to shorten and he began to be moody at not being around her. That’s when Sarah and Mitch practically forced Harry to show up at her hotel door.
When Y/n opened the door she was quick to shut it when she came to face him. She wasn’t in the place to face him, but she didn’t know that the man was clueless as to what he had said until he was pleading at the door to let him in. When she did, the man demanded her to tell her the reasons as to why she was hiding from him, and Y/N could only sit in silence for so long. So she simply let out her thoughts and feelings on how in love she was with him, she left Harry in full shock over the feelings she had for him. How could it be possible that the girl he loved so dearly loved him back so easily. The questions ran through his mind but he sat in silence, and Y/N only took it as his drunken words being lies.
She apologized harshly and deeply to the man sitting in front of her, until he was silencing her with his mouth on hers. But Y/N was quick to stop his actions, she didn’t want him to only spring himself into a relationship because of pity. When the words came out of her mouth, Harry got defensive of himself, going crazy at what was now his confession of love for her. From that moment on there was no longer a disappearance of Y/N from Harry around the tour crew, the two were now inseparable, and the entire tour crew caught onto the fact that there had been a shift between the two.
There had never been an official label to what they were. That’s what Y/N blamed their harsh romantic ending on. The two were intimate with each other, and maybe that’s what hurt Y/N the most out of everything. She gave Harry everything that she had once kept special and safe to herself. Everything that she wanted to give to the person that she deemed, “the one” she gave to Harry. That’s one of the mai9n reasons Y/N assumed she could never fall out of love with him. He held an immensely special place in her heart and in her life in general, and that was something she could never get rid of even if she tried.
By the end of the tour, the two were still close, but no longer in the romantic sense that they were in. When they got to their homes in London, Harry almost ghosted Y/N. No matter how hard she tried to get in contact with him, no matter how many times she showed up at his door, he was gone. It hurt Y/N deeply, but when she showed up at his door one evening, and his current fling opened the door, Y/N broke. Y/N recognized the girl to be another one from the tour crew, and that’s when she called Sarah to ask if she had any insight of the situation between Harry and the girl in his home. That was when Y/N had found out that the girl showed an interest in Harry at the last tour show, and the two had been consistently around each other since.
No one including Harry and Y/N knew what they deemed themselves to be in the romantic sense. Were they dating? Were they simply extremely close friends with benefits? No one knew what they were including the two, so Harry had the right to go off with another girl. But that didn’t mean he had the right to simply ghost Y/N the way he did so abruptly. That’s when she showed up at his door one late night in full tears screaming at her best friend for what he had done to her. Harry only deeply apologizes recognizing his wrong doing and then told her that the thing they had between the two couldn’t go on. That’s when Y/N made the two promise they could never fall in love with each other again. That’s when she made him swear to never come near her in a romantic sense.
Harry easily moved on from her, but she never easily moved on from him. Even after the incident the two were close friends, of course it hurt Y/N to be near him and not have him be hers but she got over it, because he seemed to be doing perfectly fine with his new love interest. He was doing fine so she would try her best to be fine without him, and so she was. She was fine but she was never out of love. She supposed the only reason she clung onto him and kept him around was because he was the only person she actually had.
When he heard his mother say the words that the girl was in love with him. It’s almost as if everything in Harry practically broke again. He felt terrible, he felt terrible for what he had done to the girl back when they were on tour and now. He felt terrible because he knew that a part of her always loved the girl, he felt terrible because he knew how special the spark they had on tour was to Y/N. He knew how special their love was to Y/N and he had broken it not once, but now twice.
“Mum I broke her twice” He paced the room, “She trusted me all of these times and I broke her two times!”
“And she got herself back up both times Harry” Anne looked at her pacing son, “If she can get back up so easily you should be able to get up from this and fix everything or move on” Anne wanted to encourage her son to move forward from every idea that was possibly tormenting his mind, she wanted him to not wallow in the sadness he created for himself.
“What if she doesn’t want to fix everything mum?” He let his worries out to his mother.
“Then you have to move on, Harry” Anne sighed.
“What if i can’t move-”
“Harry” Anne interrupted him, she picked up a photo from the ground, “If you really want to fix things you will find the right way to do it. If you don’t then you will find someone to move on with” But Anne still had a question running through her own mind, “But I have to ask you darling” She got up from her sitting spot on the floor of her son’s room, “Do you want to fix things for Y/N or for your benefit?”
Harry groaned at his mother’s question because if he was honest he himself didn’t know the answer to that question. “Mum, for the both of us” He let out quickly making up his answer, “I’m going to fix it for her, and me”
Anne smiled at her son’s words and made her way over to him and embraced him into a tight hug. She pulled away and reminded him of one single thing, “Just remember Harry, it’s not just her now, it’s her and her baby”
“I feel so bad for leaving her when she needed me the most, '' Harry blurts at his moms reminder.
“You should Harry” Anne responded, “She has been with you for everything, and if you didn’t let her go the way you did she would be here too” She told him.
“I wouldn’t be in this position if I just chose her over Fallon” He looked down at the ground, “I’ve been the one for her, but I’ve never treated Y/N as if she was the one for me” His tears begin to blind his view again.
“Harry” Anne sighed, “If you’re only doing this because you know now that she’s in love with you.” She shook her head, “Then maybe it's better for you to just move on.”
“Mum” Harry looked at Anne, “I think a part of me has always wanted her to be the one”
“So then why haven’t you acted on it Harry” She tried to cover up her knowledge of the instinct where she knew they were bound to end up together. “She asked how you were doing today” she blurted out for who knows what reason.
“She came?” His eyes widened at the thought the girl would ask about him.
“She called me asking me about something, I was at her home last night, helping with a few things she wanted to do.”
“She really is doing fine without me isn’t she?” Harry asked his mother with tears still blocking his view.
“Harry,” Anne sighed, “You barely tried to keep her in your life, so she walked away from the idea of you being in hers” She looked straight at her son, “ I know it wasn’t easy for her”
“I’m going to try to fix it mum” Harry cried, “If she lets me I’ll fix it. I’ll be there for her and the baby like I should have been from the beginning” Anne could hear the desperation in her son’s voice.
“What if she doesn’t want it fixed Harry,” Anne began to tell her son, “She’s going to have a baby it’s not just her now, it’s her and her baby. As a mother she will protect that child from anything, and what you put her through is one of the things she will make sure her baby doesn’t go through Harry”
Harry didn’t know how he intended on getting Y/N back into his life. But he now knew the girl was in love with him, and even if she was trying to get over him he would try his best to get the girl to allow him back into her life slowly. He would do anything and everything to be in the comfort of his best friend’s arms. He wanted to be there for her in any way he could, and it all began with him fixing things with himself, and then fixing things with Y/N. If he could get over Fallon in a bit of time, he would only be able to get to Y/N quicker and that’s what his heart called out for the most.
His heart called out for finding “the one”. His heart called out for him to be heard, to be comforted, to be cared for, his heart called out for Y/N. And Harry would do anything to follow his heart this time. He wanted to be the person she was for him. He wanted to be the comfort, the care, the love that his heart asked for, and he would do anything and everything just for her.
"Alright big guy," Niall wheezed as an unstable Harry began drooping from his drunken grip, "lean on me, that's it, buddy."
They were both drunk; Harry more on the plastered side. Tonight was Niall’s birthday celebration and he'd been drinking like it was his 21st birthday party and not Niall's. The said birthday boy was holding up Harry's entire body weight on his right side as they stumbled down his friend's lamppost-lighten street.
"Here we are, H." The blonde pushed Harry into his front garden when they arrived at his and Lucille's house and had him lean against the frame of the front door. Before knocking, Niall fished his phone out from his pocket; it was about to hit two A.M on the dot and he winced. The likelihood of Lucille being awake at this hour was far from high.
Despite his doubt, Niall rapped two of his knuckles on the oak and stepped back while pursing his lips. He scanned the house for any lights or sign of life inside and breathed a sigh of relief when the hallway light beamed through the glass on the front door. Rustling of keys was heard on the other side.
Niall's drunk eyes wandered over to Harry who's body was slumped and looked like it was about to kneel over. His chest hitched with a drunk hiccup.
"Mate, brush your teeth when you get in; for Lucille's sake if not yours." Niall grimaced at the putrid stench of booze practically radiating off his friend.
"Shu'thefuckup. ." Was what Harry slurred back and swallowed warily afterwards with a hand placed on his chest.
Lucille eventually opened the door, revealing herself wrapped up in her short, silk dressing gown. Her hair was falling out of its plait and she was squinting with tiredness and confusion under the warm hallway light.
"Hey, Luce." Niall started. He eyed Harry's fiancé carefully as he helped Harry stand straighter. "Sorry for waking you; he's absolutely hammered."
"I can. .see that. . ." She stepped back and allowed Niall to nudge Harry inside. "Did he forget it was your birthday party and not his?"
"Ello, m'lovie." Harry slurred. Lucille could only attempt a smile but it turned into more of a grimace as she stared down her fiancé; he was shirtless, sweaty and his jeans were low and showing his boxers.
"Niall, where's his shirt?" She was passed Harry's t-shirt which was clearly congealed with a portion of last night's dinner and drinks down its front. She sighed and draped it over the stair banister. "Well, thanks for bringing him back. Guess I'm on babysitting duty for tonight." Lucille folded her arms.
"Well he's your fiancé!" Niall sarcastically saluted as he backed out of the house. Lucille shoved his chest and pushed her front door shut, leaving her and Harry alone.
Now that Niall had left, she unwrapped her dressing gown and draped it across the banister on top of Harry's soiled shirt. She was left in a see-through white tank top that was bunched up around her waist from sleep and a pair of plain black panties. She was braless which meant her nipples were poking at the thin material.
Harry cheekily cupped one of her boobs and smirked.
"Y'look so pretty, Baby. . ." Harry pulled her into his chest and kissed her hair. He'd always been a real cuddly person when he'd get drunk.
Lucille rubbed his bare back with a dry laugh but quickly froze and grimaced when he suppressed a burp into her hair. Her eyes widened and she pulled back, staring up at Harry, who only looked back at her innocently.
"Gross, H!" She chuckled and pulled away, "it's bed time for you.
"M'not tired, Luce!" He whined, "jus' wanna kiss you all over, Baby. . . my pretty girl."
Lucille gently took his hands from her chest, "No chance, Mister. Sleep. Now."
Harry eventually trudged up the wooden hill and stripped his jeans off and climbed into bed. He'd actually fallen twice while trying to actually clamber onto the mattress but finally got settled with Lucille's help. She too climbed in and tried tucking him under the duvet,
"No, 's too hot." He pouted and rolled over onto his side, his back facing Lucille.
"Too hot for cuddles?"
Harry's ears seemed to perk up and he rolled back over and spooned his fiancé. She giggled softly and stroked his cheek.
"Did y'have fun tonight?" Lucille whispered softly, breathing in his cologne and alcohol-mixed scent. The answer she received was a soft snore. Her face was gobsmacked and she rolled over with a joking scoff, squirming into Harry's big spoon and drifted off to sleep.
When Harry woke up later on the same morning, he was met with a face full of sunshine coming through the window. He groaned and squinted while shakily covering his eyes with his hands.
Lucille was already awake and sat up against the headboard on her laptop when her hungover fiancé aroused from his post-drunk slumber. She set the computer aside and stroked Harry's hair back.
"Hey. . . how're you feeling?" Her voice cooed quietly. The reply she got was another grumble and her fingers pinched her reading glasses to rest them on the top of her bed head.
"The sun? Wha'the fuck?"
"Sorry, I opened the curtains; thought it would be good for you to have some vitamin-D." She shrugged slightly, "I can close them if you like?"
"Yes, please." Harry mumbled. Lucille padded over to the window and drew the curtains shut before climbing back into bed. "Sleep well? It's nearly one in the afternoon!"
Harry slouched himself against the headboard and rubbed the sleep from his eye as he recollected his thoughts. "Not bad; threw-up at some point though.."
Lucille frowned and worry crossed her features. She shifted slightly so that she could fully face Harry; she couldn't help the flow of concerned questions that rambled out her mouth.
"You did? Where? Are you still feeling sick?"
"In the bucket." Harry simply replied with a yawn tailing. Lucille's frown only deepened; what bucket?
"What bucket, Harry?" She began subtly glancing around their bedroom for a puddle of stomach contents soaked into their carpet.
"The bucket you left out for me, Lucille." Harry shortly snapped, his hand flopping to from his face to his side in frustration. He looked up at his fiancé and was slightly frightened at the complete confusion written on her face. "Lucille. The bucket at the end of the bed!"
"Babe, I didn't—" Lucille paused and crawled a little to peer over the edge of the bed.
She had been correct; Lucille hadn't left a bucket out for Harry that night which meant that the said 'bucket' was actually their round laundry basket with a pile of freshly-folded and clean clothes inside. "Fuck, Harry!"
Lucille rounded the bed and picked up her basket as Harry swung his legs of the edge of the bed and sat up. She had a look of disgust and horror on her face as she shoved her clean clothes under Harry's chin. His eyes widened.
"Shi-i-i-it. . ." He drew out and scratched his forehead shamefully, "God, I'm so sorry." Crusty, half-dried vomit soaked into the t-shirt on top of the folded pile and Harry had to swallow a gag from erupting while he stared at his mess.
"Luce, I'm really sorry but can you please—" He swallowed cautiously and pushed the plastic washing basket away, "—get it away; it's making me feel weird."
Lucille sighed and dropped the basket to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed next time him, running her hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch and shut his eyes momentarily. "Fancy some breakfast then?” She offered softly but she knew the answer she was going to get.
"I was thinking pancakes? . ."
"No—seriously I'm good."
"With thick maple syrup drizzled on top. ." Harry gagged (ever so slightly) at the description of Lucille's ideal breakfast, earning a laugh from her.
"Alright, alright; I'll stop." She glanced at Harry's features. His face was an uncomfortable grey colour and his hair was suddenly plastered with sweat to his forehead, making it look like he had some kind of bowl haircut. "Hey. . .You 'kay?"
Her hand slowly began rubbing up and down his bare back while Harry slowly swallowed with a weary shake of his head.
He felt her lean across him and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a glass of foggy water. She told him to take a sip. Before he could decline, Harry realised how dry and stale his mouth and throat felt and took the glass in both hands.
The water slid down his throat; it felt good and refreshing so he took another two sips before placing the glass back down on his bedside table.
"Ergh—god. . ." Harry grimaced, his green eyes blinked slowly as he stared at a spot of the carpet intensely. The water wasn't feeling good in his stomach as it did going down his throat.
"What's wrong?" Lucille questioned, tickling the back of his neck softly.
"The water. ." His throat bobbed and Lucille watched the grey fade into green in his complexion. "it's hit my stomach like a rock."
Lucille hesitated before opening her mouth to suggest laying back down. That was then Harry quickly stood up and slowed his walking pace when he began heading for the bedroom door.
"Where're you going?!"
An incoherent reply drew quiet when Harry walked down the landing and swiftly shut the bathroom close behind him. Lucille stayed seated, twiddling her engagement ring while listening for Harry to come back from the bathroom.
The agonising retch from down the hall had her standing up and bounding into the bathroom. Harry was knelt in front of the toilet with his head hanging just above the bowl; his mouth was hanging open and his shoulders rolled back as he heaved up his second bout.
Lucille swore under her breath and bent down to smooth back Harry's sweat-soaked hair from his face. With her own hair in her eyes, she scanned the bathroom counter for Harry's mini claw clip and briskly pinned back his fringe. She knelt down behind him and rubbed the nape of his neck while Harry panted over the toilet. He moaned and shifted closer to his safe-haven, holding his head in one of his propped-up arms on the toilet seat.
"Shhh, you're okay. ." Lucille cooed to her fiancé. Harry barely felt her kiss and rest her forehead on his bare, sweaty back before he rocked forward with another dire retch.
"Lucille." Harry called for her between bouts of projectile vomiting and her heart broke; she'd never heard Harry sound so vulnerable before. She watched in pity as he reached down and began rubbing his bare stomach while profusely spitting into his mess in the water.
"I know, Baby; just get it all up and you'll feel so much better. . ."
"'S all jus' alcohol—no food." Harry breathily burped at the swirling sight of his sick in the toilet. Lucille reached up and flushed away last night's mistakes before pulling Harry into her lap and tucking his head into her chest.
"Do you feel any better?" She whispered, stroking his hairline. He gulped and nodded, his warm breath fanning her collarbone. Lucille smiled to herself and rubbed slow, firm circles alone his back.
The two sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence, Lucille rocking them both side to side ever so slightly.
Harry pulled away from her touch and sat up after a while and Lucille was on high alert, thinking he was going to be sick again. Her panic settled when he cracked his cheeky smile and tucked her hair behind her ear,
"Lucille, I think I'm ready to stomach those pancakes of yours."
Harry has been inside his garage for the past 35 minutes, at first you were worried and he had asked of you to not follow him, so you respected his boundaries.
Your worry slowly fled away when you smelled it, the scent of tomato sauce and the unmistakable scent of meat, you assumed that your mind was playing tricks on you and it was your hunger that made you imagine things.
But as more time passed you knew that you were not a lunatic and that Harry really is cooking. So you were right then, maybe he was making food because he got hungry and refused to take yours. In moments like these you could see that Harry is just a tender boy at heart, in your opinion everyone is.
We get mistreated a lot that we lose sense of who we are, but the real and soft version of us, the one touched by angels and untouched by demons remains hidden and comes out discreetly but in the most beautiful ways one could imagine. It was kind of your favorite hobby, to see when it shows up , but to get to observe it, you have to know one’s weakness at first then watch them do the exact opposite.
With Harry it’s taking you more time to observe, tender things need more patience.
You got excited at the idea of Harry eating with you, you got used to eating alone, as the only person close to a friend you have is Kitty and maybe Harry but you don’t want to put your hopes up.
You were wrapping up the sandwich again so that it stays edible, before Harry walked out with two plates in his hand, he was still shirtless and the heat from the oven reflected on his sweaty body, he had a chef’s bonnet to avoid getting his hair in the food and the sight of him strolling lazily with his jeans low on his waist and holding food that he made was a sight that will be engraved in your mind for a long time.
He balanced the two plates in one hand effortlessly, and grabbed a chair nearby fixing it next to yours as he set the food in front of you which you figured out is a Tagliatelle alla Bolognese.
PREVIEW: Hits Different (from the Flatmate series)
...in which Harry goes to the club while his flatmate goes on a blind date.
Here's the preview to a flatmate blurb inspired by Taylor Swift's unreleased song "Hits Different" :)
I washed my hands of us at the club
You made a mess of me
I pictured you with other girls in love
Then threw up on the street
Like waiting for a bus that never shows
You just start walkin' on
They say that if it's right, you know
Each bar plays our song
Nothing has ever felt so wrong
Unfortunately, Harry hated that song. It was the one Y/N had sent him earlier this week on Whatsapp, and he only listened to it because she loved it. Now they were playing it in this bar and it made him chug down more pints than he could count, and by the time he’d made it out of the club, his knees were wobbly and his head spinning.
Layla threw her big coat on, and Niall shivered in his trench coat, but Harry, with only his jumper on, couldn’t feel the October chill after having had so much to drink.
I wonder what Y/N is doing right now.
“Bet she’s having a better night than us,” Layla muttered, and Harry realised he’d said that aloud.
“Layla, don’t say that,” Niall said as he put an arm around Harry to help him stand. “Let’s get you home, Harry.”
“Can we pick up Y/N?”
“We don’t know where she is.”
“I’ll text her.”
“Don’t you dare.” Layla snatched his phone out of his hand before he could even unlock it. “The only night that Y/N gets to not be boring and you’re plotting to ruin it for her. Also, you’re being very selfish right now, mentioning her when you’re with us.”
Harry felt his stomach churn. “Do you think she’s having fun?”
“Well, obviously. She would have texted you if she wanted to leave the date. She might meet someone who’s perfect for her and fall in love and live happily ever after with him–”
Before Layla could finish painting that picture, Harry braced his hand on the wall beside him. He heard Layla scream as vomit pooled beneath him, staining his shoes, his stomach clenching in pain. Niall’s voice was muffled, though Harry could feel Niall’s hand rubbing his back.
While the taste of vomit passed down his tongue and filled him with shame and regret, the memory of this morning when Y/N was getting ready for her blind date stormed back into his head, and when he thought about another man touching her, the second torrent of sludge exited his mouth.
SORRY IVE BEEN MAKING YOU WAIT FOR SO LONG BUT I FINALLY POSTED IT UGH IM SORRY :((
Okay so first of all
Y/n loves his little hip chub ☹️ like ugh
The little hip chin he’s got from only surviving on eating whatever is the daily pastry (he’s literally giving mouthful of tooth pastry) at the bakery across the street
And she pinched at his little hip chub and bites it
And he just whines and giggles because it tickles but he secretly loves it :p
And he’s so the boyfriend who is balls deep in her but still asks “do you like me though???”
Like not to get all sad but I definitely feel like based on his personality and other random things that in the past people haven’t treated him the best so in relationships he’s very insecure about stuff like that
So she constantly has to reassure him that she really does love him, and then he apologizes for it but she doesn’t mind, she likes reminding him how much she loves him
And y/n’s family is obsessed with him
Anytime he is around her family it’s just hugs and smiles all around
The little kids love him because he shows interest in their games and asks if he can play, and because he knows a lot about animals
And the adults and older adults loves him because he’s so sweet and always there to have a conversation without there being awkward silences
And I KNOWWW I’m getting ahead of myself because this is not happening any time soon!!!
But I can’t stop thinking about how sweet Harry would be when she’s pregnant.
I imagine she probably moves in with him since he has a big town house, and maybe after their baby I’d a year or so old they move into a cute little house together
I can definitely see that same angsty trope we see a lot where y/n gets super insecure during pregnancy happening to them
But this time Harry also gets super insecure and he’s like “she’s gonna leave me because she’s got that amazing pregnancy glow and now she’s going to have a super cute baby by her side and everyone’s going to want her 😢”
And pregnancy sex kind of… absolutely blows his mind
He loves having the bump to rub and more hip chin to grab onto when needed
He especially liked how sensitive and reactive she is because sometimes he tends to get a little ahead of himself and get a little crazy and then he has her a whimpering pile of mush in his arms
And when she is working harry is SICK
Constantly calling her “remember to take breaks, don’t wear yourself out walking all over that hospital. Just stay with the babies today, don’t leave the NICU at all. Sit there and coo at the cute babies.”
And when she finally takes maternity leave he is so relieved oh god
But while she’s pregnant harry is always running out to the little bakery across the street
And he claims it’s for the baby so they can come out with a sweet tooth like their daddy so they can take little trips to the bakery together
But it’s really so he has an excuse to buy a bakers dozen of their raspberry lemon muffins
But he also loves going out to grab whatever y/n is craving
And she obviously knows a lot about pregnancy and babies since she is a NICU nurse
So she’s like “H, if I’m craving sugar I should probably just have some fruit. It’s really good for the baby, you know. I need to get my fruit and veggies in now more than ever.”
“I’ll get you a slice of apple pie! It’s mainly apples.”
And he is ALWAYS talking to her bump, constantly kissing it and rubbing it and singing to it and just rambling on about anything and everything
“And then when I was feeding Muffin today he tried to bite my hand because he thought I would pour the food into his bowl quicker but he was sadly mistaken because then I winced in pain for a couple minutes to make him feel bad just so he could learn a lesson and not bite his daddy.”
“Harry are you done?”
“No, my story isn’t over yet, petal. Then Muffin felt really bad. Maybe we should keep the names the same Oreo, Muffin, I think we should name the baby… jelly bean.” (That was random but it’s about to be Easter so that’s the first thing that popped in my Harry’s head)
And from then on they nickname the baby jellybean
They got so tired of calling the baby “it” or “they” with nothing else to call them because they have not picked out a name, and because it felt a little impersonal to them
So now the baby was “jelly bean”
“How’s the little jelly bean doing?”
“Did our little jelly bean keep you up all night”
“Wait, petal, you know what I just thought of? Now you have a jelly belly. Isn’t that so funny?… get it? Because a jelly bean brand is named jellybelly.”
And even once the baby is out they are still “jelly bean”
They hardly bother called the baby their real name, even though they picked that name for a reason and love it, jelly bean just felt more natural for them and it was the affectionate nickname they used for half a year
And once Harry has to leave to go back to work he’s so upset “why can’t I just take my jelly bean with me 😞 they can come see the puppies and the little kittens.”
“They have two huge puppies here. I’ll call you on your break so you can see her, I’ll send you photos, I’ll let you know all about the horrible dirty diapers and spit up I’ll have to deal with once you’re home.”
I swear I could read prof y/n content all day longgg!
Could we get an angst moment? Love a bit of drama hahahaha 🤪😂
prof and h angstttt plsssss
The Professor Series
Harry knew Y/n. He knew her favorite authors and composers; he knew her favorite constellations, how she liked to sleep curled up into a ball when she had stomach cramps, and how she took her tea; he knew she wore mismatched socks, that her Southern accent returned when she was tired or tipsy, and that she had a little freckle on her hip; he knew she worked really hard but wanted to try to take herself less seriously sometimes; he knew the things that made her laugh and what she got excited about; he knew what places to kiss to make her blush and that she appreciated when he listened to her lectures before she gave them, even if he didn't quite understand.
It was safe to say Harry knew his love, inside and out.
But the person he was faced with now he almost didn't recognize.
It wasn't uncommon for Y/n to be asked to consult on particularly difficult cases that local police departments were struggling with. Y/n often looked over the case files and any other bits of information as it came in, gave her profile, and that was that. Each case lasted about a week, maybe more, but they always had successful outcomes.
Harry had been away on tour while Y/n was teaching in Cambridge. They missed each other obviously, but Harry started to worry when he didn't hear from her for almost two weeks. A few days wasn't out of the ordinary, mostly because Y/n forgot to respond to texts or answer a phone call, but she usually got back to him within a day or two; if she was working on a particularly difficult case, maybe more.
But this was a whole two weeks. They’d never gone that long without talking to each other. There had been no fights or disagreements that would warrant a silent treatment from Y/n, so it couldn’t have been on purpose. But Harry couldn’t come up with a reason that was good enough for Y/n to not speak to him.
So, despite the pushback from his management team, Harry rescheduled a couple shows so he could fly home and see what was going on. They didn't want him to leave, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Harry arrived at Y/n’s townhouse late at night. The door was unlocked, which was almost as unusual as the mess he found in the front room when he came inside.
He'd never seen Y/n's home in such disarray before. Books were scattered everywhere, takeaway cartons and half finished mugs of tea and coffee littered every surface in her kitchen and living room, and all the curtains were drawn closed, casting the whole space in a stuffy gloom. Harry almost couldn't believe his eyes. Y/n scolded him when he didn't use a coaster, and now there was week-old food sitting on her coffee table.
Y/n was nowhere to be found, though, which meant she was in her bedroom. Harry worried about what he would find on the other side, but whatever was going on with her, she needed him.
She was sitting at her desk, her back to him as she bent over it and read something. She didn't even flinch or turn around when the door opened, like she hadn’t even heard Harry come in.
“Y/n, darling,” he said.
She turned, tired and unfocused eyes landing on Harry without much emotion. “Oh. You’re here. Did you call?”
Harry had never seen her so out of it before. He suddenly realized that Y/n wouldn’t have known what day it was let alone the last time they’d spoken. He felt completely out of his depth, but he tried his best to tread lightly.
“No. No, I wanted to surprise you. How—How are you?”
“Busy,” Y/n said immediately. “I have this really difficult case, so I can’t talk right now.”
He guessed as much, but even difficult cases Y/n had worked on in the past never reduced her to this. Her hair was a tangled mess at the nape of her neck, she only had one sock on, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t changed her clothes in days. Harry was suddenly glad he listened to his instincts and came here.
“I know it's important, love, but so is taking care of yourself,” he said. “Why don’t you take a break and clear your head? We can eat and watch a documentary or something.”
Harry rested his hand on her arm, but he quickly realized that was the wrong move. Y/n wrenched her arm away from him, her eyes lit with irritation.
“Take a break? I can’t take a break! There is no time for breaks,” she yelled. Harry was immediately stunned. Y/n had never raised her voice at him, or anyone else for that matter. “Young women, someone's wife or daughter or sister is dying, and they will continue to die if I can't figure this out, don't you understand that?”
“I know, that, Y/n. Of course I understand, but you’ll have a clearer head if you—”
“Don't baby me! I didn't ask you to be here, so just leave me alone. I need to work, I need to figure this out, I need...”
She ignored him after that, and Harry could tell that he'd been dismissed. He also knew there was no use reasoning with Y/n when she was this upset, so he left her to her own devices and left her alone like she'd asked.
Going back into the living room, Harry began to clean. He picked up and straightened stray books, folded blankets, threw out old food. He found comfort in doing something rather than just twiddling his thumbs while he thought of some way to reach Y/n like this.
Because the truth was as well as he knew her, he'd never seen her like this before, and he didn't know how to be there for her, or how to bring her out of this darkness she seemed to be in. He knew how much these cases meant to her, how much she valued helping people, but this was different. It seemed almost personal.
By the time Harry had swept the floors and washed all the dishes and fed the Emperor and Faye Winter, who had been lounging on their cat tree—they at least seemed unaffected by Y/n’s unusual behavior—Y/n still had yet to come out of her room. Harry knew then that she wouldn't be coming out at all, and that he should probably get comfortable on the couch.
All night he worried about her. Every couple hours or so, Harry would hear Y/n pacing her room or cursing quietly or throwing what sounded like sheets of paper around after crumpling them up. She was frustrated, that much was clear, but all Harry could do was lay on the couch and listen. In the morning, Harry decided to keep giving Y/n space and went about his day like he normally would when he stayed at the townhouse. He sat and read some emails while the cats cuddled him on either side, he went into town to restock Y/n’s fridge, and he kept cleaning up.
And nothing. Y/n didn’t make an appearance the whole day. Not to eat or acknowledge that he was there or say hello to the Emperor and Faye Winter. Harry could hear her shuffling around in her bedroom like she'd done all night, but she never came out. By the time the sun was going down, he started to worry more than he already had been.
The problem was he didn't know what to do. Harry had never dealt with anything like this before. He thought he had a grasp on reaching Y/n and understanding what she needed and how, but she shut him out so fast and lashed out so intensely. This obviously wasn't a typical case, something must've happened to make her react this way, but Y/n wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.
And there was no one who could give Harry insight either. For all intents and purposes, he was Y/n's family. She didn't have relatives she spoke to regularly, not many close friends, no one who might have ever seen her act like this way before. And her mother certainly wasn't an option; Harry didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having to call her at all, and he didn't think she would know anything about this anyway.
All night Harry stayed up brainstorming. He wracked his brain for someone who might know Y/n and how to help. And when he did, he went to work on tracking them down. Harry had decided on contacting one of her old professors after recalling Y/n speaking fondly of one a couple times. It took time figuring out where he was and how to get a hold of him, but he eventually did. Harry called every ten minutes and left message after message with some secretary until he eventually got through.
“This is Dr. Moore.”
He sounded old, but Harry didn’t take the time to wonder what this person looked like. “Hello. My name is Harry, and I believe you know a close friend of mine. Y/n L/n.”
“Ah yes,” Dr. Moore said. “I haven’t heard from Y/n since she only had one PhD. How is she?”
“N—Not great,” Harry said. He proceeded to word-vomit the whole situation, his stress and anxiety about his love's well-being pouring out of him over the phone. “I—I've never seen her like this before and I'm not really sure what to do. She won't talk to me or leave her room. I was just hoping you might know something or had seen her...behave like this before.”
The professor didn't say anything for a while, hopefully gathering his thoughts. “She's rather well-adjusted for someone who has seen and experienced so much,” he finally said. “But you have to understand that she's...different from the rest of us. She has a gift that no one else has or can really make sense of.”
“She’s more than her intelligence, Doctor—”
“I don’t mean it like that, Harry,” Dr. Moore said softly. “She's a genius, she's brilliant, but that doesn't come without its faults. Many brilliant minds suffer from a little madness, Y/n is no different.”
It was like Harry could hear what Dr. Moore was saying, but he didn't want to believe him. “Y/n isn't crazy.”
“I didn’t say she was. But she has a tendency to be obsessive, loses track of time, hyperfocuses on a singular subject. Surely you've noticed that.”
“Yeah, but...It’s never been this bad, I mean, this is extreme.”
Harry didn't like the professor's insinuations, or how helpless he was making him feel. Harry knew Y/n, he knew her. She wasn't mad, she wasn't sick, she just needed a little help.
“I realized quite early on that Y/n never took failure...lightly. For someone like her, being wrong is a tough pill to swallow. Perhaps start there?”
“Right, thanks,” Harry muttered. This phone call was a bust. All it gave him was more stress.
He was about to hang up the phone when Dr. Moore spoke again. “Harry, Y/n is exceptional, and that doesn't come without its own bevy of...adversities. But Y/n is strong, and she has a good head on her shoulders, even after everything she's been through. I imagine just showing that you're there for her will be enough. Don't crowd her, but be close enough to catch her when she falls, as you've already done. Her family was never patient enough to love her the way she needed, I hope you can be that for her.”
Harry hung up after that, not having anything to say to the professor. A glance at his phone told him it was three in the morning, but he got up from the couch and chanced going into Y/n's room anyway.
She was pacing and muttering to herself incoherently, but Harry didn't let that bother him. Y/n noticed him but said nothing, and neither did he. He just got into bed, picked up a book off her nightstand, and began to read.
Y/n was quiet for a moment, and Harry could feel her gaze on him, but he kept quiet, and she eventually went back to pacing. It wasn't easy, but Harry did his best to just ignore her, have his presence known without talking to her directly like Dr. Moore suggested. He hoped that Y/n would come to him in her own time.
His eyes burned, begging him to finally go to sleep, the words on the book in front of him blurred. He was exhausted, but he was determined not to lie down. Not until Y/n was in bed next to him.
“You know, sometimes I find it helpful if I talk about things out loud.”
An invitation to open up, a small one after about an hour of silence. He didn't really expect Y/n to take the bait, but she did, kind of.
“What do you mean?”
Setting his book down, he said, “Well, all your thoughts are swirling around in your head. It might be helpful to just say them out loud, like bouncing a ball against a wall.”
She began to explain in loose terms what she was working on and what her thoughts were about the case. And once she started, it all came pouring out of her. “I—I failed. I gave a profile, they arrested someone, but it was the wrong person. I’m—I’m never wrong.”
“It’s not your job to make the arrests,” Harry said gently.
“People are relying on me! Women are continuing to die at the hands of some monster because I can’t—because I couldn’t—”
Y/n shook her head and went back to her desk, shuffling pages around. Harry sighed. He knew what the problem was, but now he knew for certain that Y/n wasn't going to rest until she fixed her mistake. He didn’t bother trying to convince her that this wasn’t her fault, that would be useless right now. But he had to do something.
Getting up from the bed, Harry trudged over to the desk. He rested his hands on either side of her and rested his cheek on top of her head. “Are you so sure that you were wrong and the police weren’t?” he asked.
“They would’ve found the right person if I was right. I must’ve missed something,” she said, shaking her head.
“More than one person can fit a profile, can’t they?”
Y/n exhaled harshly through her nose. “That’s what I tried to tell local police, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m—I’m missing something.”
Harry kissed the top of her head and began to knead the tension out of her shoulders. “Did you think you were right before?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Give me a percentage.”
Whistling, he said, “I’d take those odds.”
“These are people’s lives, Harry, not a craps table. Lives are being lost because—”
“Because terrible people exist,” Harry interrupted. “You didn’t kill those people, Y/n.”
She wiped at her eye harshly. “I can’t help but feel responsible,” she sniffled.
“I know,” he said. “But I believe in you. I believe you can figure this out. But not by running yourself ragged. You can’t work like this.”
“I can’t sleep,” she said, voice trembling. “I won’t. Not until—”
“Okay,” Harry said.
Harry made himself comfortable on the floor beside Y/n’s desk. He was exhausted, his back hurt from his night on the couch, but he couldn’t go to sleep. Not until she did.
“What are you doing?” Y/n asked him, brows furrowed curiously.
He tilted his head back and gave her a sleepy smile. “You stay up, I stay up.”
Y/n looked like she wanted to say more, but her focus was quickly pulled back to the papers on her desk.
Harry didn’t remember falling sleep, but one minute he was watching Y/n work at her desk and providing noncommittal hums as she bounced ideas off him, and the next he was blinking his eyes open, his body stretched out on the floor. There was a pillow under his head and a blanket strewn across his body, an extra pillow beside him. Y/n was sitting in front of him with her legs crossed, a mug in her hands as she watched Harry sleep.
“You fell asleep around 5:15,” she said, taking a sip while Harry sat up. His back popped and strained, clearly not a fan of another sleep on something that wasn’t a bed. “I would’ve carried you to the bed, but you’re a bit heavy for me.”
As his head cleared, Harry noticed that Y/n’s hair was wet and her eyes were clearer. She was in a fresh set of clothes and her desk seemed relatively put together.
“Did you figure it out?” he asked, his voice still scratchy with sleep.
Y/n nodded. “A little while after you fell asleep. I got an email about an hour ago. They arrested the right person.”
“That’s good,” Harry said, squeezing her knee. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I just, um, I just got a different email. From an old professor.”
“Oh.” Well, that didn’t take long. “What did he say?”
“That he had the most interesting conversation with a close friend of mine,” Y/n said. Setting her mug down, she tugged her knees to her chest. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Harry could barely focus on anything but his stiff neck, but he tried to shake his head. “I’m almost positive you don’t.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she said. “I—I don’t need to be fixed.”
“That—That’s not what I’m thinking,” Harry said frowning. “I don’t think that at all, Y/n.”
“Then why did you call him?”
Harry rubbed at his face tiredly. “I wanted to help you. I didn’t know how, so I asked for some help of my own.”
“I don’t need to be handled like some child.”
“Two weeks, Y/n,” Harry said, voice sharpening the slightest bit. Because for a moment, Y/n had frightened him. Not because he thought she was crazy or mentally unwell, but because he didn’t know how to reach her, and he always knew how to get through to her. “I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, and I come back here and the house is a mess, you’re not eating, you’re driving yourself—”
“Don’t say it!” she blurted. “Don’t say that I’m crazy, Harry. I’m not. I just...get a little sidetracked. I’m not—I’m not crazy.”
Harry could see it in Y/n’s face, then. The fear. She didn’t want him believing what she already believed about herself to some degree. He wondered how many times someone had told her that she was, or implied it. Harry had a feeling no one had ever taught her how to fail, or accept failure. Y/n was exceptional, but she wasn’t perfect, no one was, but she’d been brought up believing her knowledge had no bounds. She was taught how to fly, but no one taught her how to fall, and when she did, they blamed her for not figuring it out herself.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, because you’re not,” he said. “But I do worry when I you don’t come out of your room for a few days. I’m allowed to worry.”
Y/n had been looking down at her lap, but when she finally looked at him, there were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Harry let the corner of his mouth curve into a smile. “For making me sleep on the couch yesterday? Water under the bridge.”
Y/n’s responding grin was small, but it was there, and Harry found himself wanting to make it bigger.
Joining him on the floor, they both laid back down. Y/n rested her head on Harry’s chest while he wrapped his arms around her. For a few minutes, they didn’t say anything, but before he fell back asleep, he found himself saying, “You know, I know I’m not as smart as you or anything, but I do know a thing or two about work ethic. I can help you find a balance.”
Y/n gave no indication that she agreed or disagreed. For a moment, Harry thought she’d already fallen asleep when he felt her nod. “I’d like that. But I think...I think I need to take some time off. Maybe just focus on teaching for now.”
“Yeah. I want to,” Y/n yawned. “I want to scale back. Just teach, travel, maybe get a Master’s degree.”
Harry laughed. Only Y/n would think going back to school for another degree would be considered “scaling back.” But he couldn’t be prouder that she was taking the right steps to treat herself better.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. He kissed the top of her head as he waited for her to respond, but she didn’t. Y/n kept quiet, her breaths keeping time with his until he realized she was asleep. Breathing a sigh through his nose, Harry stared up at the ceiling and hoped she had a dreamless sleep.
A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)
His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.
There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.
His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.
Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.
It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.
“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.
“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.
“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.
“Oh, just your hands.”
His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”
“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”
A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”
“Mmm, not really.”
She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.
“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”
Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.
“I missed you too, H.”
“This week made me realize something.”
Her heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”
His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.
When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”
“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.
He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.
She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.
“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.
She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.
It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.
“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.
“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”
“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”
A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.
“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.
“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”
“But I made things awkward!”
“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”
She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.
“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”
She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”
They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.
After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.
“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”
He nods. “Okay.”
Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.
“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”
“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”
“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”
“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”
“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”
“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”
She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”
He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”
“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”
Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”
She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.
“Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”
“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.
“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.
He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”
“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.
“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”
“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”
“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”
His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.
“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”
“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”
“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”
Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”
“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.
She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.
When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.
Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.
It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.
He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.
“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
“Hmm… A couple days ago?”
“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”
Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”
“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.
“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”
“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”
She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”
He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.
“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”
She swallows. “Yup.”
He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.
In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.
“Careful,” he says.
She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.
“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.
She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.
He smiles. “There you go.”
“Okay, what now?”
“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”
They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.
After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”
She responds with a tiny nod.
“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”
“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”
“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.
“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”
She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.
“That’s good. Keep doing that.”
Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.
“Are we okay?” he asks.
“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.
He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.
Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.
That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.
“Does this feel good?” he asks.
She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”
Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.
“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”
“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”
He chuckles. “My pleasure.”
Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”
He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.
He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.
After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.
“Can I dry you off?” he asks.
She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”
“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.
Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.
Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.
She just blinks at him.
“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”
“Why’s that a bad thing?”
She doesn’t reply.
“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”
“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”
“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”
“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”
It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.
“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.
Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.
A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.
She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.
“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.
A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.
“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.
She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.
“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.
She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.
He frowns. “What are you doing?”
She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.
“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”
“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.
“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.
Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.
“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.
“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”
He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.
She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.
Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.
“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.
She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.
“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.
She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.
“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.
“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”
Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”
She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”
“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”
She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.
Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”
“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”
“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”
His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.
“Okay,” she replies.
Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.
Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.
“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.
Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.
“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”
“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”
Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”
Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.
“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.
She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”
“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”
He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”
“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”
She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.
“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”
“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.
A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”
He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”
He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”
“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.
He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”
“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”
It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.
Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”
“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”
“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”
“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.
“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”
She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”
“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”
She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”
He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.
After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.
That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.
Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.
“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”
She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”
A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”
“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”
“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”
“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”
“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”
“There’s your answer then.”
She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”
They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.
It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.
“Is that okay?” she asks.
“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”
She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.
He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.
The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.
“Please,” she whines.
He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”
“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”
She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.
“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”
“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.
He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.
Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.
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