#harry styles ou fic

[harrygoeswest]

Harry Styles is your sworn enemy. You've decided to take a holiday in the Scottish Highlands, and so has he. And there's only one bed…

~~~

A/N: Welcome to Part 2! This story has been with me for a few months now, so it's a bit weird to be done, but the good stuff is in here! I hope you all enjoy the conclusion, and as always, thank you for reading!

Word Count: 15,007 Trigger Warnings: Swearing (obvs), embarrassing bedtime stories, groovy sexy times

Part 1

~~~

Something woke you earlier than usual. A heavy weight placed somewhere in the region of the most sacred part of one’s body. Not right there, but close enough. 

You accidentally wriggled, and inhaled sharply when it got closer.

Your eyes flew open and you lifted your head. Harry had slung his arm over your midsection. Unconsciously. He was lying on his back, head turned away from you but his arm stretched across the lower half of your sternum and rested against your hip bone. If you tried to peel him off you he might wake. 

You were so warm, and Harry’s arm so close to your middle region was absolutely not helping. You could feel your sex gearing up, anticipating something that was absolutely not going to happen. Traitorous genitals.

It was still raining, you could hear it bashing against the sides and roof of the cabin. For days it had been so loud inside. You wished for peace. Silence. Calm.

Knowing you couldn’t stay in bed with Harry touching you like that while dying a death in a fiery inferno, you made a move. Ever so slowly, you inched towards the edge of the bed until you could get your foot on the floor, and then expertly twisted your body so that his arm landed on the mattress with barely a disruption.

When you were satisfied he was still completely zonked, you slipped into the bathroom and ran a cold shower. You stood underneath the stream and dropped your forehead against the wall.

This was getting ridiculous. Complicated. Scary. Over the course of the week you and Harry had somehow gone from detested enemies to domestic companions. You hadn’t argued in a week. You took road trips together for games and snacks. And to make matters worse, your body was starting to react to him in a way it hadn’t since before you knew him. Yesterday you found his profile attractive and now your body gravitated towards his touch like it was trying to correct some kind of chemical imbalance.

Four more nights you reminded yourself. You can survive four more nights.

You stood under cold water for ten minutes and then went through the motions of washing your hair and scrubbing your body. You made sure you dressed again before you left the bathroom.

Harry, it turned out, had not offered such a courtesy. He was peering at something on his phone, standing over the table with a clean T-shirt in his hands, apparently midway through changing.

Your body went up in flames all over again at the sight of him. It wasn’t like the night you arrived where he was damp and glistening from-

No. You needed to calm the fuck down. Thoughts of Harry in the shower were not appropriate and would not be tolerated. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

“Shower free?” He asked, glancing up at you.

For shitting fuck’s sake.

“No one else is in there.”

His forehead crinkled at your reply. “Good to know… I’d be concerned if there was.”

You didn’t know how to come back to that, so you made for your suitcase in a show of needing something out of it, and Harry took that as his time to get in the bathroom. Once you heard the shower running again you let out a long breath.

Harry hadn’t made any coffee, so for once, since you were the first one up, you prepared yours and his. This exchange malarkey - wanting to be as generous to him as he had started being to you - was another tally on the metaphorical chart. You were in danger of doing something really stupid.

All day you kept to a safe distance. It didn’t help that he decided it was acceptable to walk around the cabin in shirtless periods, so you made sure to avoid eye contact with his chest and keep a straight face. You made breakfast, you made your own lunches, and he made dinner. You finished your jigsaw puzzle with neer a brush of fingertips, and you spent the rest of the day reading. He did the same.

This was safe. Comfortable. Neutral ground.

When you decided to call it a night you lay on your side facing away from him and waited for the inevitable to pull you under. Harry fidgeted beside you more than he usually did and it was the only thing keeping you awake. You wanted to snap at him as equally as you wanted to keep your mouth shut. He’d never fidgeted before, he slept like the dead once he was tucked in. A thing you envied.

He settled eventually, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep yet. It was like you could hear his brain whirring.

Giving in, you peeled an eye open and turned over your shoulder. “Do you need a nightcap or something?”

He glanced at you with a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“If it helps, when I’m struggling to sleep I come up with scenarios in my head that would never happen until my own ridiculousness is too much for my brain.”

It was dark in the room, but you were sure you saw a smile tease on his mouth. “Like what?”

Here goes nothing. This was the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to achieve today, but you’d opened yourself up now like a surgeon operating on your vital organs. Might as well see it through.

You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. “Anything. One time Henry Cavill was a firefighter and rescued me from a burning building. Another time he was my soulmate and fell in love with me at first sight. Another time he was my neighbour and I found out my cat had been flirting with him.”

Harry’s belly laugh filled the quiet room. “Do they always involve Henry Cavill?”

“90% of the time, yes. Sometimes I treat myself and think about that bass player from The 1975.”

“I see… so tall men, then?”

“Broad.” You amend. “It’s all in the shoulders.”

“Interesting.”

“Maybe you could try thinking about doing the splits for that yoga woman again.”

“No.”

You shot a questioning look at him through the darkness, but he likely didn’t catch it given his silence.

He turned his head towards you, expression calm. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Oh boy. “If you want to.”

Harry rolled onto his side to face you, one hand shoved under his pillow. Feeling like you had no other choice, you did the same and gave him your face.

He licked his lips. You’d seen him do it before in interviews before he talked about something exposing. Not that you’d watched many of his interviews. Just the ones Holly had you sit through. So, all of them. “I’ve really enjoyed this week.”

Something bloomed inside you - right in the middle of your stomach, warm and tingly - and spread right through you to the tips of your fingers and toes. You felt it on your cheeks and the tips of your ears, too.

“It’s not been completely horrible,” You admitted, voice suddenly a little hoarse.

“I have a theory.”

“What’s that?”

He hesitated. “I might be wrong, but I think Holly and your brother did it on purpose.”

You gave a slow nod. “I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought the same when I got here. I’m sure, if we are onto them, Holly was the main culprit.”

“Oh, yeah.” He said with absolute certainty. “Your brother probably tried to ward her off the idea.”

“Also rather convenient that they were visiting for a family birthday the first weekend we were here.”

“Very convenient.”

You lay there for a moment, offering the smallest little grins to one another while keeping the other’s gaze. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness in the room, and you could just make out his profile. His eyes were heavy but he was still with you. You had the strongest urge to reach out and stroke his face, but you didn’t.

“Will you tell me a secret?”

An eye for an eye.

You took a deep breath and let your mind take a dive. You would give him something. He’d been honest with you. Now it was your turn. “Before I met you, sometimes my bedtime scenarios involved Niall.”

He reared back, face a beautifully offended sight. “Excuse me?”

Howling laughter ripped out of you and you had to bury your face into your pillow to stop from waking any wild animals in the near vicinity. 

“I can’t believe you just said that.” He said against your hysterics.

“I was joking.” You wheezed, and patted his shoulder. His broad, smooth, warm shoulder. “I didn’t, I swear.”

“Who were they about, then?”

You lifted a brow. As if he had to ask… “Seriously?”

“I wanna hear you say it.” He patted the mattress between you - not that there was much of it -, an invitation.

You sighed, but you were smiling, still giddy off the back of your joke. “You, Harry.”

“Can you say it in a full sentence? I might make it my ringtone.”

You shoved his shoulder again. At this point it just seemed you were looking for an excuse to touch it. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“A whisper is fine.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed.

He moved an inch closer to you. “Please?”

You glared at him, but were painfully aware of the bitten smile on his face and the closeness of him. “Before I met you, some of my bedtime scenarios involved you.”

He exhaled with such depth and length you thought he might’ve taken his last breath. “What did they involve?”

“Absolutely not, we’re not going there.”

“Oh, come on. Please? Just one. I won’t hold it against you.”

“You and I both know that’s utter bollocks and you will laud it over me for the rest of my life.”

“Surprised you think I’ll be around for the rest of your life.”

“Unless Holly bins you off or you sack my brother, I am aware that it is likely you’ll always just be around. And both likelihoods seem very slim.”

“At least we can tolerate each other now.”

You gasped. “You don’t think I’m intolerable anymore?”

“You’ve grown on me.”

That pleased you more than you were willing to admit. After a beat of silence and another dive into your brain, you came up with one. “There was one I remember. We were friends and you’d come and visit me on your off time without telling me. I always imagined you just walking in the door and making yourself comfortable in my house. And you’d live with me for a few weeks until you had to go again.”

“A few weeks? You crammed a few weeks worth of storyline into one night?”

“Sometimes I had two or three part fantasies.” You shrugged.

“Interesting… is that all that happened? I turned into a vegetable on your sofa until I had to leave again?”

That made you laugh, but you quickly shook your head. “No. I’ve only ever had one bed.”

“So we’d have to share?”

“You don’t seem like the type of man to comfortably spend the night on the floor. And you definitely wouldn’t fit on my sofa.”

“I’ve never seen your house so I wouldn’t know, but I can tell you’ve really thought about this.”

“They say it’s better to write about what you know.”

“Write?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a turn of phrase, Harry. I’m not writing this shit down.” At least, not recently…

“Damn. Maybe I would’ve liked to see it.”

“Funny.”

He grinned. “Glad you think so.”

You shoved him again and closed your eyes. “Go to sleep, Harry. Fantasise about your dream date at one of your shows or something.”

“Was that one of yours?”

Yes. “No.”

His chuckle floated around the room. “Goodnight,”

“Night.”

~

Your face was smushed against something hard when you woke up. It was warm, too, like the inside of an oven after being turned off. Your body worked before your brain did, and your hand decided to feel around for what it could possibly be. It almost felt like a lucid dream. Maybe you weren’t awake yet. Maybe, you were still asleep.

You could’ve just opened your eyes, but they didn’t seem to want to yet. Glued together after a deep and dreamless sleep. You palmed your way over the heated slab you were pressed against without really thinking about it.

Until it produced a low rumble, and shifted a little under you. Then you felt something move against your back. A hand. Underneath your pyjama vest against your side.

Your eyes finally flew open to be met with a tattooed swallow on a pectoral.

“I always knew you secretly liked me.” He groused, voice broken and lacking. And oh so very deep.

“Why aren’t you wearing a T-shirt?” You blurted, unable to move.

“It got really hot last night. You were dead to the world again. Until I lay back down.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed, a quiet and gruff little sound. “You cuddled me. Not the other way around.”

“And you just let me?”

“Sure. It’s better than trying not to fall out of bed every night.”

You sucked in a breath and tried not to overthink it. “Right.”

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind.”

“What if I mind?”

“Do you?”

Did you? You’d spent all of yesterday in your head about how things had changed between you, and his unavoidable attractiveness. Now your subconscious mind and/or body were willingly worming their way into a nighttime cuddle with him.

Christ alive, was there no hope?

“I don’t know.”

He squeezed your hip without a hint of hesitation. “I think I like this side of you.”

You dared to peer up at him. His eyes were droopy from sleep but his irises still glistened like seaglass. His scruff was getting fuller and that urge to stroke it returned. Your belly did a little flip-flop. And then he shifted slightly and you realised that your legs were intertwined, too. Dangerous feelings bloomed between your legs.

“What side is that?” You asked in a breathy voice.

He smirked. He knew what was going on in your head even if he was too polite to say it. “The one where I confuse you without behaving like a prick.”

“It is incredibly inconvenient for me.”

“Does it happen a lot?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I might be shooting myself in the foot here, but I think since you’re not making any attempt to move you can’t mind it that much.”

You made a wordless noise. “I’m in shock.”

“Do you want me to move?”

For the sake of your sanity, it was probably a smart idea. Still, that absolutely didn’t mean you wanted to. And you didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to admit that to him, though.

“You won’t offend me if you say no.” He hummed. He was still around you now in a kind of tense way. He didn’t want to adjust until you said anything.

Christ, this side of Harry was not the one you wanted to get used to.

You bit your lip as if it had any impact over your blatant indecision.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna make this easy for you,” he started shifting, away from you, “I need the loo.”

You were almost certain he was trying to be polite. Again. It did give you the kick up the arse to take yourself out of his space, though.

You kept your gaze down as Harry hauled himself off the bed, determined not to see him in this manner - roughened and lazy.

“Sun’s back.”

“Is it?” You feigned more interest in a loose piece of thread on the bed sheet.

“If it’s warm do you want to go to the lake again?”

“Sounds good.”

It didn’t sound good. It sounded horrific. Only in the sense you’d be subjected to more half-naked Harry. Wet, half-naked Harry.

He finally disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with your muddled thoughts. You realised in that moment that none of this would get any easier until you were out of the cabin and into your AirBnB. You’d crawl there if you had to.

As you had with every visit down to the lake, you packed a tote with towels, drinks, snacks and enough entertainment to keep you occupied for the day.

You felt the heat the second you opened the cabin door. It was like that first step off a plane after landing in a hot country. 

You started walking while Harry locked up, head tipped towards the sun above you. It was a dry heat today. Dangerous in one way but most definitely your favourite kind. It didn’t feel suffocating like humidity did.

“Definitely ice cream and swimming weather today.” Harry commented as he caught up with you. 

“I love it when it’s like this.” You admitted. The sunny heat made your skin prickle.

“I can tell. You already seem to be in a better mood than yesterday.”

“I’m so glad we don’t have to spend another day indoors. I think I’d have lost my marbles.”

“Sure you’re not just pleased you don’t have to spend so much time in my general vicinity?” He was teasing, for the most part.

“Not even. I’m just not an indoor person.”

“If you say so.” He gave your hip a little poke.

You also caught the way he tried to tangle his fingers in the fabric of your pool dress, whether unconsciously or not, you weren’t sure. “If that were the case, I’d tell you.”

“God damn, I think you’re right.”

Once you made it to the lake you set yourselves up in the sun but close to some shade in case the heat became too much.

“You gonna come for a swim before you ignore me for a book the rest of the day?” Harry teased. “You haven’t gone in once since you got here.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” You muttered, once again averting your gaze while he stripped out of his t-shirt.

“Is this where you tell me you can’t swim?”

You rolled your eyes and ignored his question. “It doesn’t feel very responsible abandoning our things at the same time.”

“They’ll be fine - we’ve got eyes on them.”

“What if we both get distracted and all our food gets nicked?”

“I like that you’re more concerned with the food being stolen than your purse or your phone.”

“Gluten free snacks are expensive.” You argued.

“Come on. Just for a bit? Five minutes and then we’ll come back and do some baking.”

You glanced up at him. You knew you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t. How much ammunition had you already given him if after this holiday things went back to normal? Teenage bedtime stories? Throwing up in the bushes while on your hands and knees? Harassing paparazzi? That last one sounded ludicrous.

“Five minutes, and then I’m getting out to nurse my food.”

“Deal.” He stuck his hand out, but when you took it he dragged you to your feet rather than shook it. 

“Let me just hide all this in the shade.” You said in a quiet voice, still trying to avoid looking at him for long periods of time. 

“Fine. I’ll meet you down there.”

“Okay.”

You busied yourself putting your tote bag in the shadier part of your set up. It should’ve been a five second task but you managed to stretch it out to a half minute. 

When you looked over your shoulder for Harry, he hadn’t got very far. Nor had he gotten any less attractive. In fact, he’d gotten more so. He was like Adonis. All muscles and tanned arms. Those tattoos didn’t help, either. Lord, what a specimen.

“Fuck sake.” You hissed, turning away from him again.

Taking a deep breath, you peeled your pool dress off and left it with your other belongings. Then you took more time just to mentally prepare yourself, smoothing your hands down your body.

“If you were doing this three weeks ago, you wouldn’t be this nervous.” You chided yourself. “Get a grip, woman. He’s just a man. It’s just Harry.”

But he’d never been just Harry, had he?

Fuck off.

You spun around and started marching towards the water’s edge. Harry had only just begun wading through the gentle tide. The volume of rainfall had affected the lake’s size by some margin. The beach was half the depth it had been five days ago yet the heat had attracted more people, leaving less space. It was busy.

“How cold is it?” You demanded once you were within earshot of him.

He turned over his shoulder to answer you, but his response seemed to get caught in his throat. His eyes raked down your body and then back up, a shameless and blatant go at checking you out. You were already hot from the sun, but this was much, much worse.

“It’s not bad.” He managed, gaze lingering on your chest.

Realisation smacked you in the face like a hard, rough paddle. The attraction wasn’t one-sided.

Trying to ignore Harry’s staring, you dipped your toe in, wincing a little. “It’s not great, either.”

“If I push you in it’ll take the shock away faster.”

“So much as touch me, Styles, and you’ll be sleeping outside tonight.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Jesus Christ.”

You waded in ahead of him until the water swallowed your hips, ultimately proud of yourself. Open-water was not your favourite by any stretch. You turned around with a big grin, only to be met with a wave of water splashing over your entire front.

Shock and bitter cold had your body tensing, and a loud gasp fell out of your mouth. 

Harry’s roaring laughter ripped through the air, back arched and head tipped to the sky. “Oh, that was too good.”

“You,” you took a step toward him, “absolute,” and spread your arm wide, “dick.”

You dragged the length of your arm across the surface of the water and watched as an equivalent wave crashed over him. He staggered a little, but caught himself before he toppled over. A triumph on your part. Now you were even; he was just as wet as you were.

“You’re in trouble.” He warned when his gaze rejoined yours. He started making his way to you, and so you began to retreat.

“You started it.” You put your hands out, heart hammering in your ears.

“And I’m gonna finish it, too.” He lurched towards you.

Squealing, you hurled yourself away from him, only narrowly avoiding being caught. You splashed him again which he did not seem to appreciate, and laughed maniacally with each tread away from him.

“Come here!” He yelled.

“No!”

He chased you further into the water and then back out again towards the shoreline. You were more agile than you gave yourself credit for because you always just managed to be just out of his reach, three steps ahead, and laughing away the whole time.

“You’re a menace, woman!” He bellowed, but he sounded almost breathless.

“You’re only just realising?!” You cackled, narrowly dodging another attempt at grabbing you.

“I’ve known for a long time.” It almost sounded like a promise.

You circled around an innocent old woman a couple of times but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact she was just as entertained as you were.

“You’re supposed to be in peak physical condition, Styles.” You goaded, managing to float further away. “This is embarrassing.”

He gave an exasperated laugh. “I’m going easy on you.”

“Are you? ‘Cause to me it looks like you just can’t keep up.”

You waded further into the water with your back to him, far enough that you were covered up to your chest. When you turned around again, Harry had disappeared.

“What the-,”

“-Boo.” 

You screamed as an arm wrapped around your waist from behind, your heart attempting to flee out of your chest. That familiar boom of laughter filled the air again, and your back was brought flush against Harry’s hard chest. He leaned over and splashed more water over you while you attempted to wriggle free.

“You prick, that’s not fair!”

“I think you’ll find it is fair.” He rebutted. “There were no rules set before we started.”

“You didn’t even alert me to the game before you started it!”

“You turned it into a game by retaliating.”

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you get away with it! And that still doesn’t give you an excuse to scare the shit out of me!”

“Alright, that’s fair.” He conceded, and loosened his hold on you. Then he turned you around by the arms and kept you there. “I’m sorry for scaring the shit out of you.”

Then he did the unthinkable and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, smushing you in a hug against his chest. It wasn’t lost on you how similar it was to the way you woke up this morning, and the change in pace again was giving you some kind of mental whiplash.

To avoid keeling over, you linked your arms around his waist. An odd feeling settled over you. Harry’s body was an unfamiliar comfort; his affection was like gravity. All of a sudden you were grounded, centred. How hadn’t you noticed before that you’d just been floating around?

He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he released you, but not entirely. Before you could really pull away, he took your face between his hands, encouraging you to meet his gaze. You gave him that much. Undivided, uncontested attention. You had given him that for a week now. There wasn’t much else to capture your attention.

His eyes were impossibly bright under the beating sun. Wordlessly, he smoothed each of his thumbs across your face, from the bridge of your nose and across your cheekbones to the hilt of your jaw.

Your lips parted with your next exhale and his attention dipped, drawn in by it.

Oh God. 

This was uncharted territory. Would he really do it? Would he kiss you? In public? In front of close to a hundred people. White noise filled your ears at the thought.

The sun was getting hotter as it grew closer to midday. Highest point in the sky. Most lethal temperature. Your back felt dry, scalded.

The ghost of Harry’s touch still lingered on your nose and cheeks. “Can you see the bag?”

He blinked a few times and then lifted his gaze to the beach behind you. “Yeah. It’s still there. Although someone has sat incredibly close to us since we left it.”

You turned around, but his touch didn’t fall away. His hands remained on your shoulders. He was right - someone had set themselves up irritatingly close to your things, and that put you on edge.

“Go on.” He patted your back, right in the middle. “I can tell you’re itching to go back.”

You glanced up at him. “You’re not coming?”

“I never said that.”

Satisfaction nestled in your very core.

Together you waded back through the water to the shoreline and up the beach to your things.

“I’ve never wanted a windbreaker so much in my life.” Harry muttered as you sat back down.

You answered with a smile, and began searching through your tote for suncream. Harry held his hand out, so you squeezed a blob onto his palm and then started on yourself.

“Want me to do your back?” He offered.

Shitting hell. You’d planned to just lie on your back for the rest of the day, or at the very least keep only your front turned to the sun if you were sitting up.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded. 

“Will you do mine after?”

“Sure.”

Harry took the bottle from you, and you turned in your place to offer him your back. You attempted to school your breathing when his hand met your bare skin and began turning circles against it. He was methodical and somewhat cautious in his approach, a complete contrast to his behaviour not fifteen minutes ago. But still, in this kind of proximity with him you felt this unusual comfort, even if it was intermingled with nerves. You did your absolute best not to panic when his hand dropped lower to the waistband of your bottoms.

You switched places after he gave you a gruff, “Done.” This was better, because at least he couldn’t see you now.

While you had the opportunity to, you marvelled at his back, gaze following the lines of strong muscle and tendon. Your hands did their own thing, circling the cream into his skin until it vanished.

You used the excuse of being thorough to make sure you could admire him for as long as possible without it being suspicious, but eventually you gave him a pat on the shoulder to announce you were done.

You settled into comfortable silence. You lay on your back and used your book as a shield from the sun. Harry lay on his front parallel to you with his face turned towards you.

When he didn’t close his eyes or speak to you, you couldn’t help but ask, “Have you not got some form of entertainment with you?”

“Of course I do. You.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not putting my book away to be your monkey.”

“Who said anything about that? Watching you like that is enough.”

You tried your damned hardest to ignore the butterflies in your tummy. “I can only imagine it to be immensely boring.”

“It’s not.” He insisted. “You could read to me if you feel bad, though.” 

“I don’t feel bad, and it would only slow me down.”

His laughter was a glorious, low rumble. “Then I will just watch.”

You sighed, but failed to find the energy to argue further.

Twenty minutes later, when being on your back became uncomfortable, you turned over. Before you settled down again you took the opportunity to look around. 

It was busier. Hardly an inch of space available on the stony beach.

“How bad is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s not great.”

He groaned.

“We can go back soon if you want. There might be some dry ground outside the cabin.”

“Might have to.” He lifted his head and peered over his shoulder. “Christ.”

You gave a helpless squeeze to his shoulder, and your body reacted as anyone’s would when he rested his cheek against it. More butterflies.

Oh boy.

“One more chapter and we’ll go.” You mumbled, voice uneven.

He nodded, and then he did something that took your breath away. He kissed the back of your hand. Just an innocent peck against your knuckle. It was such a certain and unabashed action you almost didn’t believe he’d done it, but the giveaway was the fact that you could still feel it after he pulled his lips away. And then, because you’d lost that last bit of self control, you stroked your hand across his scruff like it was nothing; the most natural thing in the world. It was coarse yet soft, completely contradicting itself.

Your brain betrayed you. Images of what the aftermath might look like if he ever found his way between your legs with a beard like that. Irritation on your inner thighs. Your excitement spread across the fine hairs. A shiny tip of his nose.

Stop.

You smoothed your hand against his scruff again. His eyes fluttered but they never closed. His gaze shifted to yours, and suddenly green was the only colour in the world. And seaglass was your favourite.

His gaze dropped to your mouth and your heart skipped two beats. Your faces had barely an inch of space between them. You could feel his sweet breath as it fanned across your face. He did that nervous lip-lick again, and melted butter replaced the cells that made up your body.

You wanted him to kiss you. Every other feeling you’d ever had towards him vanished like a ship in the Bermuda Triangle. You’d thought the evolution of your attraction towards him had been all on you. That maybe earlier when you’d presented yourself on the shoreline in your swimsuit that he was just doing as all other men did - appreciating something without taking advantage. Look but don’t touch. He wouldn’t be looking at your mouth like that if he didn’t want you.

He seemed to be waging a war with himself over the thought of kissing you, and it made you itch. Made you want it more.

Fuck it.

You used the fact that you were already holding his face as a means of bringing him towards you, and then you closed the short distance and pressed your mouth to his. 

He didn’t react in any way towards you, and your mind fell into a horrendous tailspin. What were you doing? You were in public, and Harry wasn’t just some random beach-goer. He was a fucking celebrity. What if someone had seen you? What if someone was watching, and worse, cataloguing it?

Oh, shit. You’d fucked up.

But when you tried to retreat, he didn’t let you. He chased you back, capturing the side of your face with one hand. He moved his mouth over yours, finally leading, and the tension fell away from your body in heavy reems until you were pliant to him and his wants.

God his mouth was divine. Soft, full, gentle. A little sloppy, but you didn’t mind. It was what you wanted, what you needed. It didn’t cross boundaries or become indecent. It was just… just. Something that fulfilled its own purpose. And you revelled in it for as long as you had it, because you didn’t know if you could have it again once it ended.

Harry’s thumb caressed your cheek and even that made you feel giddy. He parted his mouth and his tongue traced along your lower lip. 

A whimper caught in your throat, and blood rushed to your cheeks, the back of your neck and the tips of your ears. You pulled away with an embarrassed laugh and buried your face against your arm.

He chuckled, dropping his lips to your shoulder. He stroked a hand over your bare back, and it made you shiver. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You huffed. “That was pathetic on my part.”

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

You peeked up at him, finding his gaze already on you. “What would you call it, then?”

He pursed his lips, and you wanted to kiss him all over again. “Kinda sexy.”

“Kinda?”

He leaned closer, using it as an excuse to kiss your shoulder. He lingered, “Won’t be able to stand up for a minute, let’s put it that way.”

A heavy desire settled in your very core, mouth salivating. The sudden need to have this man all over you was frankly startling.

“Maybe I won’t finish my chapter…” 

He gave a breathy laugh as he watched you dogear the corner of your current page. You slipped the book into your tote and rested your head on your arms, facing him. He was resting on his elbow with his cheek against his fist, and he looked every bit the Greek God. His other hand still stroked over your back.

“Ice cream for the way home?” He suggested.

Your nod was slow, purposeful. “Maybe I’ll switch it up and have what you have.”

His gaze fogged with what you could only assume was lust. “I can get on board with that.”

You rolled onto your back and sat up, then pulled your pool dress back over your body. Harry made it to his feet, towering over you.

“Meet me by the van?” He suggested.

“Yeah. I’ll pack up.”

With a nod, he was off. He’d left his t-shirt behind, deciding to make the most of the sun. Knowing that he was roaming around half-naked broke you out in a nervous sweat. There were plenty of other men around without their tops on, but it was different with Harry. His body was recognisable.

You noticed as you packed up that your hands were shaking. You were giving yourself a headache over your back and forth between awkward and spontaneous. Yes, you’d decided to go back to the cabin, but that was before you kissed him. And you were the one that flirted with him, not the other way around. He might’ve been turned on after kissing you but he took no part in initiating things. The fear of possible rejection somewhere later down the line prompted a panic.

No.

No panicking. 

This was Harry. 

Harry, who you would inevitably see again and again further down the line whether things progressed between you or not. You needed to think with your rational head, not the one that fantasised everything. You’d let things take their natural course. If nothing happened, nothing happened. End of story.

Besides, you were moving out of the cabin in a couple of days to the bungalow. It would make that whole shift easier if nothing happened.

With everything collected and packed away, you made your way over to Harry who was paying for your ice cream. He handed you a cone with a mint chocolate chip scoop on the top.

“What’s that?” You asked after spotting the one he was holding.

He looked at his chocolate cone with a smirk. “We can all switch it up, you know.”

“Not the flavour, the cone.” There was an obvious difference between a normal cone and a gluten free one. Harry didn’t have a normal cone like he usually did.

He gave a passive shrug and started walking. “Maybe I’m getting attachments to your food substitutions.”

You snorted. “Seriously?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. You knew he was joking to some degree, but once again, your fantasising brain took over from your rational one. It told you he was being safe with you. If anything did happen again, like a repeat of the little kiss you’d just shared, he didn’t want to run the risk of you getting sick.

As suggestive as you’d been, the rational side struggled to believe they were his real motives. 

He walked ahead of you rather than beside you. It was terrible, actually, because it gave you the perfect view of his back, amongst other things. You’d lost all interest in your ice cream, too busy fawning over the way Harry ate his. It was near pornographic. You had to take a lick of ice cream to cool yourself down.

His tanned back shone under the sun, damp with sweat, and the little curls around his neck were beginning to drip with it, too, squeezing out from under his hat. And then there were his calves, which strained every time he took a step. It didn’t help that you were walking uphill, so his muscles were working overtime.

You took another languid lick from your cone. 

The cabin was in sight, but you had no interest in it. All your focus was on the man in front of you.

Harry turned around just as you were mid-lick, and your body felt limp at the sight of his chest, glistening with sweat between his pectorals. The only thing that distracted you was a cool drip making its way down your chest.

“Shit.” You hissed.

Harry was in your space in an instant. His ice cream was long gone, but that look in his eye had returned. “Making a mess?”

You nodded wordlessly. His gaze was so intense you fought to breathe properly, and it was focused on the wet line of ice cream currently making its way into your cleavage. 

“I’ll get it.” He said, voice pure gravel.

 His mouth lowered to your clavicle, tongue licking against your warm skin. You sucked in a breath, hypnotised when he moved lower down your chest towards your breasts. He took the smallest handful of your dress at the front and pulled it low enough for him to continue to where he wanted. 

The noise you made when he passed his tongue through the top of your cleavage was just as embarrassing as the one earlier, when you’d kissed on the beach. 

The soggy cone in your hand crushed between your tight grip, spilling between your fingertips and down your arm.

Harry placed strategic little pecks back up your front, oblivious to the little dilemma you were having. “Mint chocolate is still my favourite.” He said against your mouth.

“Is it?” You asked breathlessly. “There’s plenty of it.”

He gave you a perturbed look, and then did his eyes trail along your arm to the mess in your hand. You expected him to laugh, but he did no such thing. 

He growled. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and brought your body flush against his. Then he took your elbow in his other hand and brought the mess closer. Because you couldn’t help yourself, you wiped some of it across his mouth and up his cheek.

“You didn’t.” His voice was so low and dangerous it had sparks lighting through random limbs.

“I did,” you whispered.

You reached up and began cleaning it off the same way he had you - with your mouth. You started on his cheek, taking your time to wipe it up as you moved along his scruff to his mouth. And when you did finally reach his mouth he was ravenous with you, the opposite of the kiss on the beach. He ate you up, tongue and all.

For a little while, you let him. He felt good on your mouth. He showed you just how much he wanted you with his tongue and the way he squeezed your body tightly to his. The need to melt into his hold and float away became your top priority.

He started towards your coated arm, but you didn’t want him eating out of your hand. Quite literally. You wanted his focus elsewhere.

You pushed him away, batting off the guilt that came from the offended look on his face. Then you made him watch as you trailed your sticky hand down your chin from your mouth, over columns of your throat to your chest. You smeared most of it off, including on your boobs.

Harry looked like he was about to combust.

“You okay?” You teased. You slipped around him, walking backwards now towards the hut.

He turned over his shoulder and followed. “Do I look okay to you?”

You knew that was his invitation to look at his crotch. You allowed your gaze to drop for just a second, taking in the outline of his erection.

Big was the first thing that came to mind.

“There are worse things to be than turned on.”

A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. You cleaned your hand up since the majority of the mess you’d made was now making its way down your chest and between your tits. Harry watched you as if you were a brilliant movie on the silver screen. He couldn’t take his eyes off you even if he wanted to.

Your back hit one of the posts on the cabin porch, and Harry found his way back into your space. He slipped the tote bag off your shoulder and let it fall to the floor by your feet.

He took two fistfuls of your dress and tugged it. “I want this off.”

You were still cleaning your hand. You silently nodded around your fingers, and then raised both arms in the air. He shucked the dress up to your chest and then whipped it off, tossing it into one of the chairs posted outside the door.

His gaze raked up your body like a man starved. 

A couple of droplets of ice cream had fallen lower and were trailing down your abdomen towards the line of your bikini. Before they could make it, Harry leaned forward and collected them onto his tongue.

Your breathing hitched, and you took your fingers back into your mouth as you watched him sponge kisses and trail licks back up your front.

You took his cap off with your free hand and dropped it in the same chair as your dress. Then you pushed your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he went.

As he reached the underside of your breasts, he smoothed his hands up your thighs. 

A low moan came out of you in anticipation. This man was about to unravel you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. You’d never shied away from sex before, but this was something else. What you and Harry were doing felt different. Exciting.

Harry managed to split his attention between cleaning your chest and smoothing up your thighs. He gripped your waist with one hand, and the other slid between your legs. He started circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, over your bikini.

You’d been wet ever since your kiss on the beach and his hand was only making your desire that much heavier.

“God, Harry,” you groaned, and your back arched away from the post, “just like that.”

He breathed out against your breast, as if hearing your praise was the biggest compliment in the world.

He continued working you up between your thighs as his tongue laved over every inch of your front, wiping up the sticky mess you put there. He sucked your nipple over the fabric of your swimsuit.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he groused, and worked deeper into your heat with his fingers.

“Take them out.” You begged.

He shook his head against your chest, roving upwards. “Not outside.”

This gentlemanly side of him was like a silent killer. He wasn’t up for exposing you in public even though you’d had no quarrel with it. You supposed he was more than well-versed with the repercussions of having your private life displayed for the world to see. It didn’t stop you from grinding on his hand, though.

He lapped up the cream on your chest and throat, until finally, finally his mouth joined yours again. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing his body hard against yours. You continued to grind into his hand while rubbing your boobs against his chest. The friction you so craved was driving you wild.

“You’re unbelievable.” He groaned into your mouth.

“It’s not the first time you’ve told me that.”

He puffed a laugh through his perfect lips. “It’s still true. Except I’m saying it now as a dead man.”

You gasped at the feeling of one of his fingers trying to bury into your heat. “How so?”

“I’m at your mercy, baby.”

“Oh, God.” You whined, keeping his mouth firmly on yours. “I never thought I’d say this but I really want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“I will.” He insisted with a nip of your lips. “But I really want you to come on my hand first.”

“Fuck.” You whimpered.

You ground and ground against Harry’s fingers, focussing all of your attention on that one thing while his kisses plastered your mouth until your climax finally bubbled to the surface and exploded, straining your body in shivering tightness. You buried your face into his neck as you cried out, clinging onto him to help it subside.

He took his hand from between your legs and wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling you away from the column. When your legs weren’t complete jelly, you were already moving again, coaxing him inside.

A deep moan bubbled out of him when you reconnected your lips. He knew what you were doing and he was only too eager to join, walking you into the cabin. The door was kicked shut the second you were over the threshold.

Your hand slid down his front, fingertips tracing over the lines of his torso until you had a handful of clothed man. Harry was big. You knew that already from the brief encounter you’d had with it on arrival, but with your hands on that appendage now, you realised you might have your work cut out for you.

Harry grunted at your touch like a starved animal. It was such a deep, jarring noise it had shivers shooting all over your body, and straight back to your clit again. And you ate that noise right out of his mouth.

You tucked both hands into the waistband of his trunks and slid the garment down, falling to your knees with it. His back hit the door.

“What are you doing?”

You met his gaze, not a hint of hesitation on you. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Christ,” he hissed, “I don’t think I’ll last long if you do that.”

You smirked, gliding your hands up his thighs to wrap around his shaft. “That’s okay.”

“But I want to shag you.”

“I have every intention of doing that, too.”

“Might be hard if I finish in your mouth.”

You gave him a challenging raise of your brow. “You telling me you don’t have enough in you for two rounds? For a man who sings about sex as much as you do, that’s kinda disappointing.”

He knew you were goading him. He could tell by the look in your eye, that fiery glint that lived to wind him up. And it’d be a damn lie if he said he didn’t love it. Sparring with him over nothing was one thing, but to challenge his stamina? Entirely another.

He didn’t take your bait, settling with a tense jaw and a dark look in his eye. You took that as enough encouragement to continue.

You tucked your hands into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, avoiding getting poked in the eye when it sprang free. Taking it by the base with a gentle grip at first, you studied it with a calm exterior. Your interior, however, was rioting. In me it screamed.

Never one to deny yourself of anything you wanted, you stroked his shaft a couple of times and took him in your mouth without any further delay.

“Bloody hell,” Harry swayed a little at the suddenness of it all, only finding your shoulders to steady himself on.

You started working him, both hand and mouth moving up and down the length of him because he wasn’t going to fit in just your gob, big as it was. Your tongue licked around him too, preening his hot and veiny length. Sometimes it felt wrong to call a phallus beautiful, but his really was.

You gripped the back of his thigh as you bobbed and bobbed and bobbed. If there was such a thing as ‘perfectly hairy’, Harry was it. His leg hair felt incredible in an inexplicable way, and if you weren’t turned on enough already, it was really fucking doing it for you. It turned out, a lot about this man really did it for you.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry panted, stroking your hair as an excuse to just hold your head, “that’s good, darlin’.”

Words of praise hadn’t really been your thing until that exact moment. You worked harder around him, hand and lips moving in quicker succession. You wanted him to praise you more so you’d work even harder than that. Then maybe you’d get to watch him unravel while you tasted him on your tongue for the very first time.

“Not surprised a girl with a mouth like yours knows how to use it.”

It was a backhanded compliment if you’d ever heard one, but you were going with it. You quite enjoyed that he could still find a way to drag you a little while saying nice things. Lewd nice things, but nice all the same.

You pulled back and lifted his length up, closing your mouth around his balls to suck instead. He hissed, fisting the hair at the back of your head. The sharp pain that caused only made you want him more.

You met his gaze as you sucked away at each of his balls, and he was a fucking sight - strong yet vulnerable, beautiful yet roughened. Everything he exuded in that second was a contradiction to itself and the man became more of a conundrum to you than he ever had been. You needed to ground him again. Rearrange the version of him in your head so that the one that existed outside of it became clear.

You slid the hand holding his leg upward and behind to stroke over his ass cheek. Obviously it was smooth and perky and you felt a strange kind of envy because it wasn’t fair that men always had such spectacular rear-ends.

Then you stopped sucking on his bollocks and licked up his shaft like it was better than a freaking Calippo. Hell, it was better by a staggering degree. You prayed to any ethereal entity that would listen that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d get to suck away at Harry’s girthy man-meat.

You licked up the crease on his tip, taking the dribble of pre-come with you. It melted on your tongue, and a dirty groan spilled out of you and over his shaft as it sunk back into the heat of your mouth. 

You fought harder this time as you started bobbing around him. Cheeks hollowed and chin drowning in your own saliva. You took him as far as you could, into the tightness of your throat until he was the one choking. Then you rested back for a second to suck on his tip, before shoving him back down as far as he’d go.

“No, no, no,” Harry stressed, attempting to pull away.

But it was already too late, and a smug satisfaction washed over your entire being as he began to come. You gripped onto his legs to keep his cock inside your mouth. Again he only had your shoulders to keep him upright as his hips instinctively bucked in shallow movements with each wave of his release. He tasted unlike anything before. It had this addicting quality to it and part of you would be happy if he just never stopped coming.

But he did, eventually, and once he was out of your mouth you swallowed down his release and made a show of licking your lips afterward.

“Are you okay?” You asked once you could finally talk.

He looked spent already, but you weren’t going to let him give up that easily. His hair was all in his face, cheeks stained pink, and his skin was shiny in places that hadn’t been considered obscene until this very moment. Harry looked like he was about to film an advert for a new ‘fragrance for men’. Just like everyone else, whatever he was selling, you’d probably buy it.

“‘M bloody wonderful.” The way he spoke had a weightlessness to it, and you wanted to float away on it.

You rose to your feet, leaving a path of kisses up his torso as you went. Havoc wrecked up your insides as you did so. You’d had a piece of him already, but that damn body… enough to send the calmest of women to an institution.

Harry captured your mouth the second he could and absolutely ravaged you. He was all encompassing, like nothing else in the world mattered. Right then, it didn’t. Only his kisses and the hunger he gave off with them.

You found yourself with your back against the door, Harry’s body heavy against you. His weight caused your insides to light up all over again, your centre preparing for pleasure.

“Harry, I need you in me,” you spoke against his kisses, clawing at his skin to keep him closer, keep the fire in your body alive and burning.

“I need in you,” He agreed, his attack on your mouth not letting up.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m trying to remember what I did with the condoms I had in my suitcase.”

Inexplicably, you started giggling. It amused you, that this man who could seem so suave and smooth and charming could lose something like his condoms.

When your head tilted to the side, he took advantage of your exposed neck, delicately sucking his way down and back to your cleavage. He took you out of your clothes until you were completely bare, finally in matching states of undress.

“I’ve got some in my handbag,” you managed to say on a heavy pant.”

Harry growled, and the noise shot straight to your clit, “Don’t move.”

He yanked himself away from you and marched across the room to your bag, where it sat on the floor by the bed.

“Inside zip pocket,” you told him, teeth nibbling at your lower lip.

He found the strip and tore one off, then ripped it open and put it on without any form of hesitation. He took a brief second to study your nakedness, still standing with your back against the door, and then he was crowding you again, leaving you with barely room to breathe. Yet taking breath was the last thing you cared about.

“God, you’re pretty,” he sighed as he shoved his face into your neck. His lips lightly nipped and sucked away at your skin, while his hands roamed your naked body.

His dick was hard again, pressing against your stomach, and your sex was rioting with impatience. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging every now and then on the soft curls until he shivered. He lifted your leg at the thigh and hooked it over his hip, and like he just couldn’t wait any longer, he thrust his length inside you at once. 

You choked on the breath you were intaking at the sheer fullness of him, and now it was your turn to bury your face in his neck. He smelled like sea water and sweat and it made a heady, lusty scent. 

He spoke your name like a prayer, “fuck. You feel… I don’t even know. Fucking marvellous.”

You gripped him tighter as he started thrusting, heavy and hard. “You’re so big, Harry.”

Your backside hit the door, and while it was a little painful and might well bruise, it actually made it all the better. You felt like an animal, matching his hip movements one by one. 

It felt like he was trying to prove something, and even though he really didn’t need to, you weren’t going to tell him that. You liked this side of him - this real maleness that you hadn’t really seen from him beside his occasional pigheadedness. And it was only occasional because he only showcased it with you. With everyone else he was a god damn peach. Maybe he’d be a peach with you now, too, with less of the bravado. But you’d like to see this side of him more, where he had nothing and yet everything to prove, and a driving desire to prove it.

He was starting to pound faster and faster, grunting and groaning. Sweat rolled down his back and it was oddly stimulating. You traced your fingertips down his spine and back up, then gripped his face and brought his mouth to yours for a mind-bending snog.

If his mouth was heaven, his dick was fucking ecstasy.

Everything about him worked together to provide the ultimate pleasure and you were centimetres from falling off the damn train.

“Harry, touch my clit.” You ordered.

He growled again and it was utterly delicious. He stroked his hand from your hip to your cunt and started stroking that sensitive nub in such a stark contrast to how he was fucking into you that you reached a new level of overwhelm.

“Fuck, Harry!” You squealed.

“You are,” pant, “insatiable.”

He dropped his mouth to the top of your breast and sucked - hand, cock and mouth all moving together in sync to bring you to climax.

Stilted, you groaned at the way your orgasm washed over you like a debilitating blaze. Harry’s body held you prisoner against the door, and you knew from his shudder that he was coming too. Hard, if his teeth against your shoulder blade was any indication.

“It’s not like this,” He said after a moment of quiet. 

You were boneless sandwiched between his hard front and the door. If he moved, you’d collapse. “What?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and sweet, “It’s not like this. Ever. I feel different with you.”

A thick lump formed in your throat, and you forced it down with a swallow. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know what he meant. You knew exactly what he meant. You were no stranger to sex, but it hadn’t ever been like that before. Something about being with Harry lit you up on the inside like a firework display on bonfire night. But for some reason, you couldn’t put that into words for him. So you did the only thing you could and kissed him back.

You wound up in the shower together, going for another round before cleaning each other up. It was more delicate than the first time. You took your time, and then when you were both spent, you finally stepped out, clean and sated.

Harry wiped you down with the towel first, taking extra care to make sure you were completely dry. Watching him care for you that way did terrible things to your insides. Especially the vital organ in your ribcage. He’d gone from carnal to tender in a matter of seconds and that familiar feeling of whiplash latched onto you again.

You clung to the sink while he towelled himself down, watching his every move. Admiring him. There was no animosity left in you to harbour towards this man. It would be a waste to do so. You’d hold onto it for someone else, someone more worthy. For now, Harry had earned something else. Something sweeter.

He took your face between his hands when he was done, appreciating you. His thumbs stroked over your cheeks. You took a gentle hold of his wrists, keeping your eyes on his.

“Don’t go to the bungalow.”

You bit your lip at his request. Knowing what you knew now, you’d have never booked it if you had any slight inkling that this might’ve happened. And by ‘this’ you obviously meant sleeping with him. Up until 2 days ago the possibility was at around 0.01%. 

But you had booked it to safeguard yourself, and paid a hefty deposit. You weren’t going to get that back now.

“Don’t worry about the money, just… stay with me.” He pleaded.

“But I am worried about the money.” You admitted. “People like me have to be. I’ve already been frivolous enough trying to get here.”

“I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He frowned, and his hands fell away. You suddenly felt cold, craving his warmth and his touch again. You closed the space between you and rested your palms against his naked chest.

“I can’t just let something like that go, Harry. And I’ve never taken well to people just offering me things. Especially not money. I have to earn it. It’s not personal, I promise.”

“I just wanted to do something for you.”

“I know. But you don’t have to.”

He studied you for a moment, eyes searching your face. “What if I came with you?”

You chuckled. “Okay, keen bean. I think you need to slow down. Think about it for a minute.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going away.” You reminded him. “I’ll be half an hour down the road, that’s it.”

“Too far.”

You shook your head and dropped your forehead to his chest. “It’s not really.”

“I don’t want you staying somewhere alone.”

“If you weren’t here then I would’ve spent 4 weeks up here alone. With only badgers for company.”

“Compromise with me a little? Please?”

You sighed, and he wrapped himself around you so that you were cocooned in his hold.

“You go to the AirBnB, but I come with you. If you won’t let me pay for it, let me come with you.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to let it go unless you gave him something, you said, “I’ll think about it.”

~

The next three days were utter bliss.

The first day, you barely managed to get out of bed. From the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep, Harry was on you, touching you, affecting you. It was beautiful and fulfilling and also exhausting. He wouldn’t leave you alone, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying this side of him. You were enjoying this side of you - the one that didn’t constantly feel tense or on edge or irritated. You were happy.

The second day, you spent it in the car, just driving around the Highlands with no planned route and no destination. He held your hand tightly in his while you explored mountain passes and vast lochs and deep forests. You stopped at a roadside cafe and had quite possibly the best gluten free sandwich of your life - which you were surprised was even an option in the depths of nowhere - and then carried on to another quiet pass where you had some wildly incredible sex in the front seat of the car. It was almost midnight by the time you got home, and the shitty three-quarter bed in the cabin had never felt so comfortable. It was made all the better with Harry’s body wrapped around you.

On the third and final day, Harry had gone into full wooing mode. Every single part of the day felt like an attempt to bring you on side, whether it be staying at the cabin or allowing him to come to the bungalow with you. He started with a wake up call that involved his glorious face between your legs, followed by a fully gluten free breakfast spread. After a joint shower wherein he shagged you senseless against the tile wall from behind, he dragged you out into the perfectly mild Highland day for a hike up the nearest - small - mountain. You were back by lunchtime for a picnic by the lake and a dip in the water, with less chasing this time and more paddling. Then, after a nap in the cabin that resulted in yet more sex, he took you into the village for dinner at the nicest restaurant it had. It was no Nobu - not that you’d ever eaten there - but it was good food and perfect company.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you said to that paparazzi that followed us last week?” Harry asked when our dessert was taken away. He had a hand settled on the base of his wine glass, the candle on the table flickering so that light danced across his handsome face in odd ways. It only pronounced the sparkle in his eye.

You licked your lips, fighting off your smile. “Probably not.”

“Please? I feel like I deserve to know, given it could come back and bite me in the bum.”

You giggled at his use of the word ‘bum’. It was like his mother was in the room with you. “It won’t.”

“And how are you so certain, darling?” He leaned forward over the table, still entertained.

“Because, baby, it is literally impossible for him to do so.”

“Care to explain?” He rested his chin on a closed fist, smirking.

With a sigh, you leaned sideways and fished around in your bag until you found what you were looking for. Between your index and middle finger, you flashed the small SD card that the man had reluctantly handed over to you all those days ago.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Wow.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How’d you manage that?”

You thought back to your conversation outside the supermarket and let out a small laugh. “Er… I might have threatened to get the supermarket security involved for harassing customers, and then followed it with another threat to break his fancy camera and shove the SD card into some intimate places if he didn’t give it to me.”

Harry was staring at you like you were a mad woman. Maybe you were - you always did have a short fuse. “You said that?”

“Yes.”

He managed a blink. “You said that for me?”

“Yeah…”

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his beardy chin. “Which intimate places?”

You smiled, “Well, something that size wouldn’t have done much damage up his arsehole, would it?”

Harry grinned, shaking his head, “You’re amazing.”

“No. I just think everyone deserves a holiday without having the fucking press on their back for every second of it.”

He leaned forward again and grabbed your hand, littering it with kisses, “Amazing.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d like to think I would, yes.”

Your hands tangled together in the middle of the table, and you traced the creases between them with your free hand. You took a deep breath as your thoughts rolled ahead to tomorrow and the decision you had to make. “Harry, I want to make a deal with you.”

His brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I want to go to the bungalow tomorrow alone.” He opened his mouth to object, but you squeezed his hand and shook your head. “I arranged this time away from home so I could get away from people and out of my head for a bit. And that’s not me saying I’ve had a shit time with you - I absolutely haven’t. But I need some space. I didn’t expect you when I turned up here and I’ve been kind of derailed from all the things I wanted to do.”

“That doesn’t sound like a deal.” He argued.

“That’s because I wasn’t finished.”

Even in the glow of the candlelight it was obvious he was blushing, “Sorry.”

Your lips twitched with a smile. “That being said, I know as soon as we’re apart I know I’ll miss you. Ludicrous as that sounds, because a week ago I still kinda hated you, but it’s the truth. I will miss you. I know what you’ve been doing the past three days and I’d be a big fat liar if I said it wasn’t working.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He said with feigned ambivalence.

“Yeah, sure.” You rolled your eyes, but now your smile was really helpless. “Anyway. I want a week, Harry. That’s it. Just one week to myself, so I can work on my deadline and actually get something done. Because I’ll be honest, as soon as I realised you were here that night I got here, I kind of forgot I had work to do at all.”

He looked to be turning everything over in his head. “One week?”

“Yep. Just seven days. And then we can spend my last week here together and you can do whatever you want with me. Does that sound fair?”

He pursed his lips. “You go home in two weeks?”

“I do. Have the train ticket to prove it, too.”

“You can’t stay longer?”

“My life isn’t that flexible, Harry.”

“No, I know.” He took a breath, staring at our hands, still intertwined on the table. “Do you still split your time between London and home?”

“I do. Mostly home, but my place in London gets enough use. When work needs me to come into the office, it’s convenient. I’ve been fighting it for a while, but I think I might have to move to London permanently eventually. They’re discouraging working from home.”

He grunted like he disapproved of it. “Okay… I will let you have your week so we can have our week afterward. And I’m coming home with you when you have to leave.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” You asked over a laugh. “Thank you for letting me know.”

He snorted. “This is my off-season. And while I thought I’d be spending it relatively alone, and definitely not with the woman who’s hated me for fuck knows how long, it turns out I actually… quite like that woman. When she doesn’t hate me so much.”

You lean forward, “Quite like her, do you?”

“I do. Very fond might be a better way of putting it. So, if she’d let me, I’d like to spend my downtime with her before I bugger off for fuck knows how long to do my job. Especially if that means finally seeing her illusive house.”

“If you think she owns a house, you’ll be very disappointed when you get there.”

“Do you not own your home?”

“No, I own it. It’s just not a house.”

“Ah. Well, even still. If you’ll have me, I want to visit.”

“Can I visit you in London?”

“If you don’t, I’ll be offended.”

“Then… I think we’ve made our deal.”

“I think we have.” Harry grinned. “Should we go back to celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” You had to laugh, “It’s not graduation, H.”

“It kind of is. Graduation from singledom.”

Something stirred in your belly, and not in a bad way. “Oh.”

“You okay with that?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Mhmm, I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips to your hand. “I think we should fuck around with Holly and your brother, too.”

“Oo, how?”

“I have a few ideas…”

~

Four Weeks Later

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You watched as a delighted squeal ripped out of your best friend, her hands clasped against her chest. Beautiful Holly beamed, her gaze touching on every single one of her invited surprise guests. “Oh my God!”

Your brother, ever the sap when it came to his wife - and rightly so - had organised a surprise birthday party for her 30th. You all knew, no matter how much she claimed she didn’t want anything special, that all of her favourite people in one room would mean the most to her. She’d been taken out for a birthday brunch by Harry so that you and your brother could turn their home into something fit for a party. 

Streamers hung from the light fittings and curtain rails. Banners were stuck to the walls. Party poppers had burst and sailed through the air the second the front door had been opened. Everyone donned some form of ridiculous party hat. Someone had put a tiara on Holly’s head. The kitchen was piled with food and drink. All guests had been instructed to arrive at 2:30pm for Holly’s return at 3 o’clock. Harry had been placed under strict instruction not to bring her home before then if he valued his life. If Holly’s day wasn’t perfect, he’d have your brother to answer to.

Harry caught your gaze across the room while everyone else corralled the birthday girl into their embraces. It held for longer than anyone else would expect of you, and apparently your brother noticed.

“Come help me in the kitchen a second,” he tugged on your wrist.

You looked away, following him to the back of the house. You fixed yourself a drink, the first alcoholic one of the day now that the guest of honour had arrived, and sunk it in one; a reward for pulling off a surprise party for the nosiest woman on the planet. You poured another, and then one for Holly, too.

You tried to slip away into the front room, but were stopped midway by a tall, foreboding figure.

“What are you doing?” The question came out a little snappier than intended, but you blamed it on nearly spilling Holly’s drink than being practically ploughed over by a certain someone.

Harry raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ve come to get Holly a drink. That alright?”

I kept my expression neutral and held out the plastic cup. “Here you go - Holly’s drink. I’ll even let you take the credit for it.”

“I daren’t give you the satisfaction.” Harry scoffed.

“Trust me, Harry, nothing you could do would ever satisfy me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Your brother muttered.

Harry shot him a glance as he took the cup from you, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours, “Thank you so much.”

You flipped him the bird as he stalked off and rejoined your brother at the counter preparing the food for a barbecue.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you two to try and get on for Holly’s sake. Just for one fucking day.”

You bit your tongue and hoped it passed as ire, “It’s not my fault he’s a raging prick.”

“That’s a stretch and you know it.”

Ignoring him, you worked on slicing carrots, celery, cucumber and peppers into slices for crudités. Was it really a birthday party if there were no crudités?

The answer is no.

“Alright,” your brother called across the packed room of people, “five minutes and the food is going on! Can I have a volunteer for help with the barbecue?” Holly started to raise her hand, but he slapped it back down, “Not you, gorgeous.”

Someone coughed “Simp”, and you had to cover a laugh.

“Alright,” Holly’s dad heaved himself up and out of his favourite armchair, “I’ll help. The student needs a master, after all.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but you knew she liked it when your brother and her dad found another way to bond.

When conversations picked back up you scurried off to the bathroom for a breather. Even though it was still early, the number of people stuffing themselves into the frankly small living room had you feeling claustrophobic. It wasn’t like you to feel that way often, but the charade you were putting on was making you nervous. You never got nervous, but lying wasn’t in your armoury, because you were actually generally shit at it.

You thought of Harry and his quiet - and sometimes not-so-quiet - confidence. He pulled off the hatred with ease. He had three films and a post-credit scene as experience for that. Or maybe he wasn’t acting at all… 

No. If last night’s bedroom activities were anything to go by, that couldn’t be true.

You washed your hands and splashed some water on your face to cool yourself down, and then let yourself out of the downstairs bathroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you found Harry on the other side of the door waiting.

“Fuck me,” you hissed.

Harry opened his mouth, no doubt with some witty retort that he’d already ‘done that’, but he was cut off by someone else stealing your attention.

Holly barrelled into you while yelling your name, dragging you away in a hug that was more like a headlock. “You are so naughty doing this! I said I didn’t want a party!”

“Yes, but look how happy you are,” You grinned at her. It took absolutely everything in you to not turn around and look at the handsome man who seemed to always linger in the right places.

“I am… I’m so happy, thank you.” She gave a content sigh. “The only thing that would make this better is if you and Harry could even just pretend to be amicable for like, five minutes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re super amicable all the time,” You said in the most blasé tone you could muster.

“Yeah right.”

“We were amicable at that dinner with your Nan.”

“That was for her sake.”

Something sharp pinched at your heart. She thought you didn’t try for her. If only she knew. But you had a part to play and you didn’t want to back out of it now. You were sticking to the plan. “I am not the problem. I’m very amenable.”

Holly frowned, the expression fraught with disapproval.

You sighed, “Sorry. Force of habit. It’s easy to blame someone you hate for your own misgivings.” Using the word hate in reference to Harry felt so wrong. Do it for the charade your brain screamed.

“Okay, enough. Maybe one day your brother and I won't have to separate you and Harry before you murder each other, but clearly today is not that day.”

Give it an hour or two and you might reconsider that statement you thought. “Yeah, maybe.”

For the next while you entertained Holly and avoided Harry while constantly throwing glances whenever you felt his presence. And you always felt his presence, as did everyone else in the room. There were clearly people here who didn’t expect him to show because they kept staring. You wished you could stare without such shame. You wished for other things, too, like to go over to wherever he was and just slip into his arms, or hold his hand, or kiss his mouth. But you did no such thing. You kept to yourself.

After the barbecue food had been eaten, your brother brought a huge cake out, homemade by your mother, with 30 candles on the top, all lit. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to Holly and watched her blow them out in three big huffs, and then it was taken inside to be cut up.

“I’m sorry it’s not gluten free, baby,” your mum sighed as slices of gooey chocolate goodness got passed around to all the guests.

“How many times have we had this conversation?” You chuckled, squeezing her into your side. “Gluten free cakes have the consistency of sawdust. They are shite. I’ll survive without cake.”

“Literally.” Ah, a rare coeliac joke.

You snorted. “Exactly.”

“Anyway,” she threw a surreptitious glance around the garden and then lowered her voice, “how long are you and Harry going to wind up your brother and Holly by pretending you still hate each other?”

“They’ll know later. Soon. It’s getting too hard considering they both just let themselves into our houses nowadays and they’re likely to catch us… in the middle of something.”

“Smart choice, poppet.”

“This is just payback for meddling.”

“Yes, but it worked out, didn’t it?”

You grunted unattractively. “Shush. We are not letting them believe they’re responsible for our relationship.”

“Are they not, though?”

“Of course not!” Alright, maybe a little. But you were never going to let them believe it.

You scanned the crowd again and caught the better half of your relationship sneaking inside. The urge to go after him and lock yourselves away in a bedroom became stifling, but somehow you refrained.

Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered around the birthday girl again and watching her open presents like it was Christmas fucking morning. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa watching her with a fond smile. Harry had tucked himself into a corner again like a fucking bat, but he wasn’t alone. He’d been talking to another girl for a while. You didn’t know her, although I recognised her from Holly and your brother’s wedding. Holly’s cousin, maybe? Anyway, she was… keen. Yep, definitely keen given her invested posture.

You tried not to give a shit, or at least pretend you didn’t. But you definitely did give a shit.

“Oo, what’s this?” Holly’s question piqued your curiosity, distracting you from staring at Harry.

You noted the envelope in her hands, unmarked, and smirked. Chancing a glance at Harry, he was already looking at you with the very same look on his face. 

Holly plucked the card out and read the note inside, her intrigued expression morphing into more confusion. Glancing around the room, gaze visibly lingering on Harry, she brought the card closer to her chest so that no one else could see, and peeked at the photo you knew was taped to the inside. She pressed the card to her chest and searched the room for you, eyes narrowing into slits when she found you.

“What is it, babe?” Your brother asked, trying to peel the card off her.

She smacked his hand away, “It’s a… gift voucher.”

“What for?”

The look she gave him was conspiratorial, “I’ll tell you later.”

“Bet it’s for Lovehoney.” Someone joked, the same person who called your brother a simp earlier on.

She snapped the card shut and slipped it back into the envelope, moving onto the next gift. Her demeanour had changed considerably. Holly was decidedly less excited about her other presents now, and she kept tossing glares between you and Harry. He was clearly fighting off laughter, and you pretended to be unaffected.

When her last present was revealed and she’d said her thank yous to everyone, Holly stood and primly excused herself to the bathroom. Not thirty seconds later, you were summoned to the bedroom upstairs by a text in all capitals.

You made a quiet escape and made your way up to the room you knew your brother shared with his wife and slipped in, Harry not long behind you. Holly was standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded and a deep scowl on her face. Your brother was there too, looking perturbed.

“What’s going on?” He asked, throwing a worried glance at his wife.

“Excellent question.” Holly snapped. “I want to know the exact same thing.”

Harry shut the door behind him, and then silently handed her a stack of more photos we’d printed on Polaroids, held together with an elastic band.

Holly got straight to work sifting through the pile, your brother’s gaze fixed on them over her shoulder. There were easily 30 photos there - in the lake, on walks, sharing ice creams, sunbathing, cuddled together on the sofa, kissing. It was a lot of selfies, something Harry refused to smile for, and it only made you smile bigger and laugh harder. But it had been Harry’s idea to immortalise the beginning of your relationship on that vacation, and it had been your idea to give the photos to Holly as a birthday present, because you knew it would make her happy. Her punishment for getting involved was waiting to find out.

While they studied your loose holiday album, Harry leaned against the door and tugged you back by the belt loops on your jeans so that your back fell against his front. You melted into him like butter, shuddering when his breath fanned across the top of your head. He placed a subtle kiss to your crown.

“I fucking knew it!” Holly squealed, taking a look at the photos again.

“Knew what?” You demanded.

“I knew putting you in that cabin together would give us results.” She grinned.

“Told you.” Harry muttered.

You shook your head, folding your arms. “Unbelievable.”

“How long did it take?” She was practically vibrating, bouncing with excitement. Your brother had to put a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

“How long did what take?”

“To realise you like each other!”

“A couple of weeks?”

She squeaked again, clapping her hands. “Can I keep these?” She waggled the pictures in front of us.

“That’s what they’re for, Hols. We’ve got our own copies.”

“Yay!”

“Holly,” Harry said sternly.

She stopped fidgeting and looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze. You’d never heard him use that tone with her before. Only you.

“Please don’t meddle with my relationships again. We figured you were the reason we were both up there at the same time, but this didn’t come without a hitch. We still bickered and said some nasty shit to each other.”

“And I whacked my head the first morning.” You huffed.

Harry ran a comforting knuckle up and down your spine. “Also we’re not letting you take responsibility for the result.”

“Yeah, but we all know it never would’ve happened if I hadn’t meddled.” She was still grinning.

You made a contradictory noise, “We don’t know anything, actually. But anyway, we have some ground rules.”

“Don’t be boring.”

“We’re not, Hols,” Harry said softly.

“What are they?” Your brother asked.

You and Harry laid down the law - that mostly involved not saying anything for a while to anyone but family so that you could enjoy your relationship without the media being nosey. You’d finally found your footing with one another, and you didn’t need tabloids and paparazzi complicating your happy medium just yet. For now, you wanted to just enjoy one another. You’d had the same conversation with your parents.

“This is your birthday present, by the way.” You whispered as the four of you trundled back downstairs.

“It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.” You’d genuinely never seen your best friend smile so much.

Harry reached over for a high five, and you didn’t hesitate to slap it. “Nailed it.”

“Hey,” your brother sauntered into the kitchen, “you guys want ice cream?”

You and Harry shared a look, and burst into laughter, because ever since that day outside the cabin, ice cream always ended up being used as a form of foreplay.

“No, I’m good.” Harry grinned.

“Yeah, no thanks.” You shook your head, still fighting off laughter.

“Are we missing something?” Your brother looked bewildered.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Harry slapped his shoulder.

Later that night, when the buzz of alcohol was starting to wear off and the comfort of a sofa called to you, Harry took out the tub of mint choc chip from the freezer and spoon-fed you until you were so tired you couldn’t open your mouth. 

“Tired?” He hummed.

“Shattered,” you yawned.

“You want me to put it away…?” He meant the ice cream tub.

You tilted your head all the way back to look at him, his face lit by only a warm glow of a candle. “Do you want to put it away?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do, then?”

He licked his lips and traced a pinky finger down your bare arm, “I want to lie you down on my bed and drip it down your chest, and then lick you from your throat to your thighs.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

~~~

Talk to me?

[harrrystyles-writing]

Yes, Sir! —Capítulo 17

Personagens: Professor! Harry x Estudante!Aurora. (Aurora tem 23 anos e Harry tem 35)

Aviso: O capítulo só tem o ponto de visto de Aurora | pode conter algum gatilho.

NotaAutora: Perdão a demora para atualizar a fic, prometo demorar menos da próxima vez.

— Olá, você deve ser a substituta de Jane, certo?— Ela abriu um sorriso.

— Sim, eu sou Aurora.— Me apresentei.

— Jura? Essa pequenininha aqui também se chama Aurora.

— Bem, nossas mamães tiveram um ótimo gosto.— Brinquei com a bebê e ela soltou uma risada fofa.

—Acho que ela gostou de você.

— Isso é bom.

— Eu sou a Violeta.— Estendeu a mão livre e eu a apertei. — Vamos, eu vou te mostrar o que precisa saber sobre essa coisinha linda aqui antes de sair.

— Claro.

— Não liga para bagunça, estamos de mudança, então tem caixas espalhadas para todo lado.

Ela não estava brincando, eram realmente muitas caixas e a casa estava praticamente vazia.

— Não se preocupe.—Deu um sorriso acolhedor.

— Aqui é a cozinha.— Ela apontou para meu lado direito. — Eu ainda não embalei nada nessa área, então está praticamente intacta! Se estiver com fome é só pegar algo, ao lado da geladeira tem uma planilha com tudo o que Aurora pode ou não pode comer.

— Certo.

— O banheiro é no fim do corredor e os quartos são lá em cima.

— Ok!

— Eu tenho outra filha, acho que Jane te disse, Isadora, 17 anos, ela não é de interagir muito ainda mais sabendo que vai se mudar, ela anda num humor péssimo, então é só dar uma olhadinha nela de vez em quando e dizer a hora de ir para cama e a hora de comer, o resto do tempo será dedicado somente para pequena Aurora.— Ela parecia ser uma mãe bem dedicada. — Tudo que você precisar já deixei anotado ao lado dos números de emergência, alguma dúvida?

—Acho que não.

— Tudo bem! Eu vou voltar no máximo meia-noite, eu e meu marido vamos a um jantar, ele chega hoje de viagem. — Suspirou fundo, entregando a pequena. — Mas acho que vai se sair bem e não hesite em me ligar se algo ocorrer, certo?

— Não se preocupe, se divirta com seu marido.

— Muito obrigada por vir hoje, eu estava mesmo precisando disto. — Ela deixou um beijinho no topo da cabeça da pequena em meu colo antes de subir para provavelmente se arrumar.

Meia hora depois, ouço barulho vindo da escada enquanto eu brincava no chão da sala com a garotinha. A mulher estava deslumbrante em um vestido preto colado, saltos e acessórios marcantes.

— Bom eu já vou indo. — Ela deixou mais um beijo em sua filha.

— Tchau! Senhora... — Me dei conta que não sabia o sobrenome dela.

— Styles! — concluiu.

Styles? Será que era um sobrenome tão comum assim?

— Boa sorte, senhora Styles.

O tempo pareceu voar enquanto brincamos, eu peguei meu telefone para ver a hora e já se passava um pouco mais de uma hora brincando com a pequena Aurora.

Chequei minhas mensagens e nenhuma era de Harry.

Ele me esqueceu?!

Era só um verão, não deviria afetar tanto nosso relacionamento assim.

Por que ele estava tão distante?

— Está com fome? — Questionei e a pequena concordou com a cabeça. — Mm! Vamos ver o que você pode comer. — A peguei nos braços e fui para a cozinha. Olhando a planilha detalhada de Violeta, estava escrito que ela havia deixado o jantar da Aurora pronto. — Ótimo! Sua mãe é incrível. — Brinquei tirando um sorrisinho fofo dela.

Coloquei-a na cadeirinha, abrindo a geladeira para pegar seu jantar, quando me deparo com Isadora brincando com a irmã.

— Oi! Eu sou Aurora.

Estendi minha mão, mas a garota não respondeu.

— Cadê a Jane?

— Não pode vir.

— Você é a namorada dela?

— Não, sou amiga da namorada dela.

Por que tantas perguntas?

— Tá! Eu vou pedir uma pizza, quer?

— Claro.

Ela deu um sorrisinho falso pegando o telefone para pedir, fiquei aliviada por não ter que fazer isso. Então, peguei a comida em minha mão e levei ao micro-ondas para esquentar. Assim que o aparelho apitou, Isadora já havia sumido da cozinha.

Ela me parecia mesmo um tanto antipática.

Só a vi novamente quando a pizza chegou, ela foi até que gentil em levar um prato para mim, eu havia acabado de colocar a Aurora dormindo em seu berço, ela era mesmo um doce de menina.

— E aí, animada com a mudança? — Tentei puxar assunto, mas sinto seu olhar confuso. — Sua mãe me contou.

— É claro que contou. — Revirou os olhos, mordendo mais um pedaço.

— Bem mudanças nem sempre parecem boas, mas logo se acostuma.

— Eu não tenho nenhum amigo lá, eu vou estar sozinha, numa cidade chata que eu não conheço. — Cerrou os olhos. — Como se acostuma com isso?

— Para onde você vai se mudar?

— Boston.

— Eu Moro em Boston! E te digo, ela não tem nada de chata e se você quiser, eu posso te mostrar os melhores lugares de lá.

— Você faria isso?

— Claro, por que não? Me empreste seu celular.— Ela me entregou o aparelho e digitei meu número de telefone. — Pode me ligar quando quiser sair para se divertir em Boston ou esquecer dos problemas.

— Obrigada. — Ela sorriu verdadeiramente pela primeira vez aquela noite.

Já se passava um pouco da meia-noite quando ouvi o barulho da porta da frente, eu estava ao lado do berço de Aurora lendo um livro que eu trouxe para passar o tempo, não demorou muito para que Violeta aparecesse na porta do quarto nos observando.

— Oi! — Sussurrou baixinho indo de encontro a filha. — Ela se comportou?

— Sim, ela é um anjinho de criança, você tem sorte.

— Muito obrigado. — Ela sorriu.

Não consegui deixar de notar que seu batom estava borrado e o cabelo um pouco bagunçado, a noite pareceu boa.

— Bem, eu já vou indo então.

— Claro, é aqui seu pagamento. — Ela tirou o dinheiro de sua bolsa me entregando. — Quer uma carona para casa? Está tarde!

— Não se preocupe, eu vou pedir um Uber.

— Tem certeza? Meu marido pode levar você.

— Não precisa. — Tentei me esquivar.

— Já passou de meia-noite, não acho muito seguro para você pegar um Uber esse horário, por favor aceite a carona, eu me culparia eternamente se algo acontecesse com você.

— Tudo bem. — Aceitei a derrota. — Espero lá embaixo então, muito obrigada.

— Eu que tenho que agradecer por vir de última hora. — Violeta me deu um pequeno abraço antes de eu descer.

Estava esperando o seu marido alguns minutos o que deu tempo de checar minha bolsa e perceber que meu celular não estava lá, o último lugar que me lembro de ter deixado era na cozinha, então vou sorrateiramente atrás do meu telefone e para minha sorte estava bem ao lado do microondas onde esquentei a comida de Aurora.

— Está Pronta? — A voz masculina soou no local me fazendo virar instantemente pelo susto.

E no instante que vi seu rosto pareceu que todos os seus pesadelos ganharam vida.

Os olhos verdes estavam perplexos tanto quanto os meus, ele ficou olhando por um longo tempo, antes de sair algo de seus lábios novamente.

— Aurora?!!

Eu não conseguia nem falar, o nó na minha garganta doía.

Porra era ele, ali bem na minha frente.

A porra do Harry Styles.

— Aurora o que faz aqui?

Por mais que quisesse gritar ou fazer qualquer coisa naquele momento eu paralisei.

— Aurora, me responde. — Assim que ele tocou meu braço eu tive certeza que aquilo era real, ele estava ali. — Como me achou?

— Achou?! Que porra você está fazendo aqui?! Eu não te achei, eu nem sabia que estaria aqui. — Tentei me manter calma. — Você é irmão da Violeta ou coisa assim? — Minha mente estava confusa, implorando para não ser o que parecia ser.

— Querido?! — Violeta surgiu atrás dele. — Aí está você, meu amor não esqueça de dar uma boa gorjeta, ok?

Querido?

Amor?

Não!

NÃO!!!

Não podia ser verdade.

A visão dos dois foram sumindo, suas vozes também, meu estomago doía, tudo foi começando a escurecer, eu não vi nada até eu estivesse no chão.

— Ei você está bem?— Os olhos verdes estavam vidrados em mim. — Ei!

— Eu... Sim. — Sussurrei ainda tentando abrir os olhos.

— Tem certeza? Precisa de um médico? — Violeta também estava ajoelhada me olhando, seus dedos acariciavam meus cabelos.

Nunca sentia tanta vergonha e nojo de mim mesma.

— Eu estou bem, sempre acontece isso, minha pressão cai as vezes.— Menti me levantando rapidamente.

Por que isso estava acontecendo comigo?

— Tem certeza? Você parece um pouco pálida.

— Sim, eu vou indo.

— Espere meu marido vai levá-la.

Àquilo doeu como um soco no estômago.

— Não precisa.

— Você acabou de desmaiar. — Violeta encheu um copo com água e me entregou. — Por favor querida, você foi tão boa para mim hoje o mínimo que posso fazer é isso, já que não quer ir ao médico, tem certeza que não quer sentar um pouco?

Por que ela tinha que ser tão boazinha.

— Eu estou bem, não se preocupe. — Dei um sorriso de canto pegando minha bolsa.

— H, ajude-a a chegar em casa, tá bem?

— Ok

H! Ela chamava ele de H.....

Minhas pernas fraquejaram novamente, tive que me segurar para ficar em pé.

Eu só queria sair dali, eu não podia mais olhar para ela sendo tão gentil comigo enquanto eu sabia que dormi com o marido dela, eu amava o marido dela.

Ela me guiou até a porta juntamente com Harry que abriu a porta do carro para mim antes de entrar no outro lado.

Ele ligou o carro, eu permaneci em silêncio, eram tantas perguntas que queria fazer a ele, mas eu não queria ouvir a verdade, porque não sei se poderia suportar ouvi-lo mentir mais uma vez para mim. E por mais que o silêncio estivesse me matando por dentro, eu estava feliz em morrer assim.

— Aurora. — Seus olhos encontraram os meus.

— Não.— Desviei o olhar.

— Aurora me deixe explicar.

— Eu não quero. — Eu encarava a janela. — E assim que estivermos longe o suficiente para que ela não veja o carro me deixe sair.

— Eu não posso deixar você sozinha essa hora na rua.

— Eu não posso ficar mais um minuto com você nesse carro.

— Aurora por favor.

— Já estamos longe, por favor me deixa sair?

— Não posso.

— Eu vou pular desse carro, me deixa sair. — Eu tentava abrir, mas estava trancada.

— Aurora, pare de ser estúpida, você vai se machucar.

Realmente eu era uma estúpida!

Tão estúpida por não ter percebido nada.

— ME DEIXE SAIR AGORA!— Comecei a gritar batendo em seu braço, até sentir o carro balançar e parar bruscamente.

— Aurora!— Ele gritou quando, sai rapidamente do carro.— Pelo amor de Deus espera por favor.

Eu estava com medo de ouvir o que ele tinha a dizer, porque por qualquer motivo que ele tentasse se justificar, isso não mudaria o fato de que tem uma família.

— Aurora, por favor, eu só quero conversar.

— Não há o que falar; Não quero mais ver você.

— Me deixa explicar, eu sinto muito, eu não queria que descobrisse assim.

— Assim como? Na porra da sua casa?! Com a sua família!! — As lágrimas queimavam a minha pele. — VOCÊ TEM UMA FAMÍLIA! UMA FAMÍLIA HARRY!

— Eu sei, sinto muito, mas é complicado.

— Complicado? — Ironicamente soltei uma risada. — É por isso que não respondia minhas mensagens? Eu disse que te amava, como você pôde fazer isso comigo!

— Me perdoe, por favor.

— Você tem sua família, precisa voltar para elas, eu não quero ver você nunca mais.

— Por favor. — Ele segurou em meu braço.

Eu não tinha forças para tirá-lo dali.

— Aurora, você é importante para mim, me deixe levá-la, me deixe explicar tudo. — Seus dedos tocaram minha testa acariciando meus cabelos. — Eu quero poder contar tudo para você.

— Devia ter feito isso antes. — Juntei toda força que eu pude para me afastar dele. — Adeus Harry.

Eu sai correndo sem rumo, sem saber ao certo onde estava, mas eu não ousei olhar para trás, porque se ele me alcançasse, eu não tenho certeza se seria forte o suficiente para rejeitá-lo mais uma vez.

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fics that have the Styles triplets as characters as requested in this ask. Pairings are noted in each rec. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

＊ Silver nightmares by Deidei

(M, 214k, Harry/Louis/OMC) There are three prestigious Wolf clans: The Styles, The Payne’s and The Maliks. They are ancient clans of Pureblood Wolfs and they are respected and worshipped by other lower-class clans.

＊ Across the Stars (I'll Write Your Name) by @dreamboathaz

(T, 154k, Harry/Louis, Marcel/Louis, Edward/Louis) Louis has been living peacefully on his home planet of Dononter Minor for years before he's kidnapped by a group of pirates that call themselves The Blades of Orion. Or, a Star Wars AU

＊ When the bartender met the alpha triplets by Tattoolwt

(M, 151k, Harry/Edward/Marcel/Louis) As cliché as it might sound, it all changed when he met them. A Styles triplets a/b/o story

＊ Submit To Me by HorrorJunkie

(E, 122k, Harry/Edward/Marcel/Louis) Their two worlds were never meant to collide until the triplets find themselves meeting the stunning omega who will forever change their lives.

＊ No Control by LouisIsGolden28

(M, 118k, Harry/Louis) When he almost reaches the other side of the room where he sees the toilet sign he bumps into a person. "For fuck's sake watch ou-" It's another Alpha, shit.

＊ Triple the Love by NeverEnoughKT

(E, 78k, Harry/Edward/Marcel/Louis) Louis Tomlinson is an omega freshman in college when he meets the Styles Triplets who are senior alphas.

＊ The Triplets Mate by fucksinglelouis

(NR, 48k, Harry/Edward/Marcel/Louis) Edward, Harry, and Marcel Styles had decided to mate together before they could even decipher the significance of the act; but now, looking back, they think it may not have been the smartest decision.

＊ Mind of Stone by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 41k, Harry/Louis) He needs to find a way back home, and then figure out what the fuck happened at the bar tonight.

＊ Look After You by Onlymine987

(NR, 30k, Harry/Edward/Marcel/Louis) Anne had fallen pregnant first, and had given birth to healthy, alpha triplets. Jay had problems with fertility and finally got pregnant three years after Anne had given birth to a tiny Omega. This is the story of the alpha triplets and their tiny Omega.

＊ All In by @jaerie

(E, 3k, Harry/Louis, Edward/Louis, Marcel/Louis, Harry/Edward/Marcel/Louis) Being identical triplets, when Harry accidentally bonded with Louis, he bonded them all. 

＊ Been Waiting For A Lifetime For You by orphan_account

(M, 2k, Harry/Louis, Marcel/Louis, Edward/Louis) When an omega smells their soulmate alpha(s) they get triggered into heat.

＊ Don't forget where you belong by orphan_account

(E, 1k, Harry/Marcel/Edward/Louis) The styles triplets claim their mate in front of everyone. Pwp

[zarry-fics]

Mal-entendido - w. Harry Styles

gente, pasmem! eu lembrei que tinha criado uma outra conta logo após a exclusão da @zarry-fics. Usei um pseudônimo, assumi uma identidade diferente (rsrs) queria só fazer um teste pra ver se eu conseguia escrever ainda e consegui! ainda conquistei alguns seguidores, mas depois exclui a conta num surto. consegui recuperar alguns posts da @calvo-styles e também vou colocar aqui pra vcs. espero que gostem!!!

avisos: linguagem agressiva, conteúdo+18, menção à overdose e uso excessivo de álcool, menção à traição e à nudez.

masterlist

Sempre odiei acordar cedo, mas agora esse sentimento parece piorar, visto que a minha cabeça dói tanto a ponto de explodir. Mas eu não poderia faltar mais um dia, já faltei ontem quando precisei ficar internada por quase entrar em coma alcoólico pelo tanto de bebidas que ingeri à noite.

Tomei dois comprimidos antes de sair de casa, mas nada pareceu adiantar. Então, assim que cheguei no trabalho, já me dirigi à cafeteria, providenciar um grande copo de café. Talvez assim essa intensa dor que sinto passará um pouco.

Entretanto, assim que dou os primeiros passos para dentro do compartimento, meus olhos caem diretamente nele. Harry sorri animadamente com Niall, ambos conversando despreocupadamente sobre assuntos que não tenho nenhum interesse em saber. Meu coração instantaneamente murcha e a mesma angústia da noite passada me atinge em cheio, a que me fez beber até desmaiar.

Ele está vestindo seus tradicionais ternos caros, muito bem passados. Eu o observei por alguns segundos, me perguntando se o universo está de brincadeira com a minha cara. Colocar um homem lindo assim no meu caminho? E ainda pior, ser traída por ele e precisar conviver com o mesmo, pois antes de ser meu namorado, ele é o meu chefe! Eu só posso ter atirado pedra na cruz pra merecer um castigo desse.

Antes de ser notada, no entanto, eu viro as costas para voltar de onde vim. Caminho a passos apressados até as escadas, pois ao passar rapidamente pelo elevador, percebo que está ocupado e geralmente demora bastante para ficar livre. — S/N. — ouço a voz dele, mais imponente do que o normal. Engulo a seco e não me atrevo a olhar para trás, não quero precisar olhar para ele. Não mesmo. — Estou falando com você! — e, contra a minha vontade, ele agarrou delicadamente o meu pulso, me mantendo parada.

Estávamos em um ponto mais alto das escadas, meio longe dos olhares curiosos dos outros funcionários. Mas ainda haviam câmeras, mas não é como se ninguém soubesse que somos... Ou éramos namorados. — Não ‘tô afim de conversa, Styles. Só quero fazer as minhas obrigações e ir pra casa. — fui grossa, mas ele só suspirou.

— Por que não apareceu ontem? — e meu comentário anterior foi ignorado com sucesso.

─ Interessa?

— Claro que interessa, S/N. Eu sou a porra do seu chefe! — respondeu bruto e eu enruguei as minhas sobrancelhas, puxando meu braço para longe do seu aperto.

— Eu justifiquei e enviei o atestado médico pro RH. Não deixei de dar satisfações a quem realmente depende delas. E vê se me respeita, pois tenho certeza que não mereço ser tratada desse jeito! — falei no mesmo tom e ele enrugou as sobrancelhas.

— Atestado?! — de repente, seus olhos verdes se tornaram confusos e... Preocupados? — O que aconteceu?

— Harry, eu não te devo satisfações. Aliás, o que eu faço fora dessa empresa não lhe interessa. — me afastei um pouco, passando as mãos pela minha testa — Se quer saber o que aconteceu, analise meu atestado.

— Eu não fiquei sabendo do motivo pelo qual não veio.

— Então procura saber e vai descobrir. — dei as costas para ele e voltei a caminhar, com mais pressa que antes para evitar ser seguida. E, realmente, ele não veio atrás de mim e eu suspirei aliviada.

• • •

Horas depois, eu já estava em frente ao meu notebook, tomando sem parar um café com leite que providenciei minutos depois de ser interrompida por Harry. Está bem forte e quentinho, do jeito que eu gosto. Por sorte, minha dor de cabeça passou mais um pouco e me possibilitou começar o processo da auditoria financeira. Deveria ter feito isso ontem, mas deu tudo errado.

Ouvi algumas batidas na porta e bufei, até pensei em não ir por estar muito ocupada, mas a pessoa do outro lado é muito insistente. Por fim, pedi que entrasse. E, pasmem, era o Harry. — O que você quer? — revirei os olhos e o olhei por alguns segundos, voltando a fitar a tela do notebook.

— Você teve uma overdose?! — perguntou em um tom pasmo, segurando um papel em mãos, o que eu julgo ser o meu atestado. Percebi também que os dedos dele tremem um pouco, o que me assustou.

— Pelo amor de Deus, Harry! Claro que não! — respondi rapidamente — É isso o que está escrito nessa porcaria? Eu avaliei essa merda antes de mandar pra cá e não era desse jeito que estava escrito.

— É quase isso, S/N. O que você fez? — continuou, insuportavelmente me questionando. Seu rosto está vermelho e eu deduzo que esteja bravo — Então foi por isso que não me atendeu?

— Harry, eu não te atendi porque não queria conversar com você. Achei que isso estivesse bem claro!

— Você não pode fazer isso comigo. Não pode sumir da minha vida sem mais nem menos, não me deixou nem explicar nada. E depois vai parar no hospital por beber demais?! — bufei, me levantando para trancar a porta. Eu não quero que nos ouçam aqui e Harry está bem agitado, não consegue nem manter o tom de voz baixo.

— Eu já disse que minha vida não te diz respeito. Eu tô aqui, não tô? Vim trabalhar e não faltei de novo. Um dia eu reponho trabalhando por mais umas horas extras. Eu não-

— S/N, eu não tô ligando pro trabalho. Foda-se isso, fodam-se as horas extras! — ele me interrompeu — Eu tô preocupado com você. Porra, eu te amo! E eu odeio saber que você estava doente por minha causa, eu tô me odiando por saber que poderia estar lá pra te ajudar e falhei até nisso!

— A gente terminou. Não havia nada que você pudesse fazer por mim.

— A gente não terminou, S/N. — eu ergui uma sobrancelha.

— O quê? E quem determinou isso? — ele jogou o papel no chão e se aproximou de mim, tocando meus ombros. Harry me trouxe para mais perto e eu não me afastei. Na verdade, não tive nem forças para fazer isso.

— Eu determinei. — respondeu — Você não pode terminar comigo sem mais nem menos.

— Como não posso? Você me traiu! — cuspi as palavras, magoada e com muita raiva dele — Não seja cínico, Harry.

— S/N, eu não te traí. — rebateu, firmemente — Eu nunca faria isso com você, você sabe disso.

— Eu não sei de mais nada. Só sei que vi as mensagens no seu celular e elas pareciam muito convincentes e esclarecedoras. Aquela mulher parecia ser muito íntima sua, Harry. Eu não sou idiota!

Toda a raiva e mágoa que senti ao descobrir a sua infidelidade voltou com muita força. Um nó se formou em minha garganta e nem pensei muito, o empurrei para longe de mim, reprimindo a vontade que senti de chorar. — S/N, pelo amor de Deus! Me ouve. — ele implorou, num tom desesperado — Eu posso provar que não fiz nada de errado.

─ Então prove! — cruzei os braços.

— O meu celular. Está tudo no meu celular. — Harry foi apalpando os bolsos em busca do aparelho, mas não encontrou. Ele me olhou frustrado e quando percebeu que iria voltar a me sentar, segurou o meu braço de novo. — O esqueci em casa... Mas, S/N, eu juro por Deus que não faria nada disso com você. Cacete, eu te amo mais que tudo nesse mundo. Você sabe disso. Eu só tenho olhos pra você.

Fiquei em silêncio, só absorvendo as palavras dele. É inegável, eu sei que Harry me ama. Mas não consigo confiar em nada do que ele fala, principalmente quando me lembro da foto que a tal Sarah lhe enviou. Ela estava seminua, e ainda complementou com "quando vamos nos ver novamente?"

Eu nunca senti tanta dor em toda a minha vida.

— Dorme comigo hoje, por favor... — ele meio que implorou — Eu tô sentindo tanto a sua falta, amor. Eu juro. — me trouxe para perto de novo, me tomando em um abraço que não era esperado por mim — Eu preciso de você.

— Não vou, você-

— Essa é a sua chave. — enfiou a mão no bolso de sua calça e tirou de lá um chaveiro que ele mesmo me deu. É um coração e dentro dele há uma foto nossa. É uma coisinha tão brega e clichê, mas eu amei muito quando recebi. — Vou esperar você, S/N. E eu espero mesmo que você vá. Só assim podemos resolver tudo e lá eu te mostro as mensagens que Sarah me enviou, te deixo revirar o meu telefone se é isso que vai te fazer acreditar. Você sabe que eu nunca vi problema nisso.

Eu não respondi, mas mesmo assim ele me entregou as chaves. — Vou chegar um pouco tarde por ter três reuniões para participar. Mas prometo que te explico tudo. Eu só quero que você me perdoe. — olhei em seus olhos verdes e percebi ali uma sinceridade, um apelo que acabou comigo.

Harry parece tão vulnerável agora.

— Tenho que ir. Estou atrasado. — e, depois de me olhar sugestivo, Harry sorriu fraco e saiu da minha sala. Ele sequer me beijou, ou tentou qualquer gracinha.

Não que eu quisesse, mas se ele não fez isso... É porque está respeitando o meu espaço. Sempre admirei isso no Harry.

Olhei para a chave em minhas mãos, as nossas expressões tão felizes na foto. Pensei em não ir, mas meu coração se apertou com a possibilidade. E a forma como ele me pediu, ou implorou para que eu fosse…

Acabei percebendo que deveria fazer isso. Pelo menos dar a ele uma chance de se explicar. Aconteceu tudo muito rápido e eu sei que posso ter me equivocado. Harry é um homem incrível e eu senti dó pela forma como falou. Ele está muito preocupado e se sente culpado pelo que aconteceu.

• • •

Não era bem a minha intenção voltar aqui depois de tudo o que aconteceu, mas, de alguma forma, as palavras de Harry mexeram comigo, principalmente a forma como ele abordou o assunto, como se estivesse desesperado para ser ouvido.

Quando entrei na casa que tanto era conhecida por mim, eu senti uma sensação nostálgica muito dolorosa, como se houvessem muitos anos que eu não pisasse ali, quando são só alguns dias. Tudo piora quando eu percebo que todas as nossas fotos ainda estão no mesmo lugar de sempre.

Harry não mudou nada.

Subi para o quarto e senti um leve rastro do perfume de Harry. Como estou sozinha, não vi problema em ir até o closet e observar as roupas dele, sentir ainda mais o seu cheiro. Isso me causou borboletas no estômago.

Percebi também que ainda existem roupas minhas aqui. Até uma camisola azul que ele comprou para mim no dia dos namorados, umas semanas atrás.

A peguei e sorri um pouco. Harry não se livrou de nada que era meu e isso é tão adorável.

Optei por tomar um banho relaxante antes de ele chegar. E assim que terminei, ponderei se seria uma boa ideia vestir a camisola, mas nem precisei. Harry surgiu no quarto com uma pressa palpável, e quando me viu, sua expressão suavizou no mesmo instante. Então ele sorriu. — Que bom que está aqui, S/A. — acenei minimamente e prestei atenção na sua reação ao me perceber de toalha em sua frente.

Harry me analisou de cima a baixo e quando percebeu o que eu segurava, seu sorriso aumentou. — Vai vestir isso pra mim? — perguntou num tom malicioso, se aproximando de mim a passos lentos.

Ele ficou por trás e encostou o nariz em meu pescoço, inalando o meu cheiro, o cheiro dos meus cabelos. — Não sei... — respondi, tentando soar firme — Eu não vim aqui pra isso.

— Não seja boba. Vista. — pediu, bem baixinho, rente ao meu ouvido. — Quero ver você dentro dela.

— Hmm… Ok.

— Vou tomar um banho. Enquanto isso, você pode checar o meu celular. Eu te disse que provaria que não estou te traindo e quero que você veja. — ele estendeu o aparelho para mim e se afastou um pouco — Eu já volto.

E, sem me dar tempo de responder, ele entrou no banheiro. Harry nunca gostou de me abraçar ou chegar perto enquanto está suado ou sujo, na volta do trabalho, por exemplo. Eu, particularmente, nunca me importei com isso, mas ele sim. Vai entender.

Peguei o telefone e abri as mensagens. A senha ainda era a mesma, e a medida que fui rolando a tela. Encontrei o contato de Sarah nos últimos chats e engoli a seco ao perceber que está bloqueada.

Analisei as mensagens e então entendi tudo. Ali estavam as que eu vi, que incluía a foto em que Sarah estava usando apenas roupas íntimas... Mais abaixo, ela explicou que havia acabado de chegar na cidade e queria vê-lo novamente. Ao que parece, Harry se envolveu sim com ela, mas foi há muito tempo.

Ele explicou que estava com alguém e a garota foi até compreensiva. Ela pediu desculpas.

Nesse momento, eu me senti extremamente ridícula e culpada. Como pude ser tão ingênua? Eu nem deixei Harry explicar nada, simplesmente tirei minhas próprias conclusões como se fosse a dona da razão... Eu nem acredito que causei essa cena por algo inexistente.

Me sentei na borda da cama de Harry e refleti um pouco. Sequer vesti nada, continuei com a toalha em volta do busto.

Me sinto envergonhada. Eu deveria tê-lo ouvido, mas o meu ódio me cegou naquele momento. — E então? — perguntou ele, ao sair do banho; me olha com expectativa.

— Harry, me desculpa. Eu entendi tudo errado. — consigo sentir minhas bochechas pegarem fogo — Eu achei que-

— Não importa. O que importa é que você está aqui agora. — ele sorriu, dando alguns passos em minha direção. Harry tocou o meu rosto e acariciou a minha bochecha com um dedo, me analisando minuciosamente. — Tudo não passou de um mal-entendido. Mas eu te entendo... Provavelmente eu faria a mesma coisa! — revirou os olhos e eu ri um pouco — Mas que bom que já nos entendemos... Agora posso matar um pouquinho a saudade que eu 'tava de tu?

Sua pergunta veio carregada de malícia e eu apertei as pernas uma na outra, na tentativa de conter a excitação que começou a crescer entre elas. Timidamente, concordei. Não devo mentir e nem há razões para isso, mas eu senti muito a falta dele também e me sinto a mais burra de todas por ter quase perdido um homem tão maravilhoso quanto esse que tenho em minha frente. Ele é tudo o que eu sempre quis e eu quase desperdicei essa chance que a vida me deu.

Harry me empurrou para que eu deitasse na cama. Logo seu corpo másculo pairou sobre mim, me arrancando suspiros necessitados pela forma como meu ventre se contraiu com a sensação de sua ereção sendo pressionada entre minhas pernas. — Harry, eu te amo... Me desculpe. De verdade. — lamentei, em um tom quase urgente e ele não me respondeu de imediato, só ficou observando meus lábios. Intercalando entre esses últimos e meus olhos.

— Não fale mais nada. — e, logo após essa ordem, ele uniu nossas bocas em um beijo fodidamente calmo e lento. Sua língua dividiu os meus lábios, causando arrepios por todo o meu corpo; uma sensação eletrizante que subia por minha espinha, se findando em meu pescoço, mas eu ainda conseguia sentir os cabelos na minha cabeça eriçando também.

Harry apoiou um de seus braços na cama e com o outro, puxou o nó da toalha que mantinha minha nudez escondida de seus olhos curiosos. Assim que me viu nua, Harry suspirou pesadamente, sem parar de olhar para mim. — Céus, você é uma obra de arte, mulher. — resmungou extasiado, tocando um de meus seios, estimulando-o.

Ele beijou o canto de meus lábios, em seguida a bochecha. Harry sorriu contido, bem próximo ao meu rosto, olhando nos meus olhos como uma forma de me provocar. Meu coração quase saltou pela boca quando o senti pressionar sua ereção em mim mais uma vez, agora simulando uma penetração que me fez puxar com força o ar para dentro dos meus pulmões. — Harry... — comecei a implorar por ele, revirando os olhos quando o mesmo sugou a pele do meu pescoço com bastante precisão. Até chegou a arder um pouco.

— Calada. — pediu, soltando o meu peito — Só sente, amor. Sente. — sua mão desceu até o meu íntimo. Minhas pernas abriram automaticamente, ele sequer precisou pedir para eu fazer isso.

Uma risada anasalada deixou-o, como se estivesse zombando mediante a minha rendição. Harry começou a acariciar meu clitóris, indo e vindo com a pontinha dos dedos, esfregando-o com uma suavidade que chega a ser dolorosa e entediante. — Com força. — ordenei e ele parou.

— Como é? — sua voz soou bem grave — Você quer que eu seja bruto? É isso mesmo?

— Sim. — respondi sem rodeios e ele se afastou. Harry me analisou por uns segundos, como se quisesse estudar as minhas expressões. Até que, após alguns segundos, pareceu acordar de um transe.

— De quatro. — ordenou, se pondo de joelhos na cama para me dar espaço. Fiz o que ele mandou, apoiando meu rosto nos travesseiros macios. Harry acariciou a minha bunda, e só ouvi o som da toalha sendo retirada do corpo dele. — Gostosa.

Seus dedos voltaram a fazer mágica em mim e eu gemi baixinho, sentindo um deles deslizar para dentro enquanto o outro continua a massagear meu clitóris. — Harry! — clamei por ele, rebolando contra a sua mão, sentindo a fricção gostosa que isso causa dentro de mim.

Não demorou para que eu sentisse sua boca a me estimular também. Foi aí que um grito escapou de meus lábios. Sentia sua língua mover-se majestosamente por minhas dobras, indo e vindo, movimentos constantes que mais pareciam pinceladas pesadas em meu clitóris. Gemi de novo, balançando meus quadris na direção do seu rosto para ter mais um atrito.

Harry enfiou mais um dedo e foi me acariciando deliciosamente, chupando-me com suavidade, ao mesmo tempo precisamente, me deixando fraca. Senti meus joelhos fraquejarem, mas ele me segurou firme, me mantendo no lugar.

Sentia também seu nariz em algum ponto naquela área, me instigando. A língua dele entrava e saía de mim repetidas vezes, me causando alguns espasmos involuntários, mas não conseguia me controlar. — Não para, Harry! — supliquei, sentindo meu corpo quente, implorando por mais disso, que ele fosse mais rápido.

Fui apertando seus dedos, sentindo como os movimentos se tornaram mais lentos, mas isso de alguma forma me excitou monstruosamente. Revirei os olhos e, sem controle algum de minhas ações, gritei mais alto (o que ninguém ouviria por eu estar com o rosto enfurnado no travesseiro), apertei os lençóis da cama com muita força até sentir meus dedos dormentes. Sentia meu orgasmo se aproximando, mas Harry não continuou por muito tempo.

Sem dizer nada ele se afastou, beliscando meu clitóris para me provocar. O senti pulsando, mas quando fiz menção de falar alguma coisa, ele interrompeu. — Fica quieta. — exigiu, mas eu não acatei essa ordem. Me atrevi a olhar o que ele estava fazendo e senti minha cabeça girar quando o vi se acariciando, estimulando a ponta de seu pau enquanto olha pra mim com muito tesão. — Porra, eu disse- Merda! — ele tremeu e eu desfiz a posição, me ajoelhando perto dele, ameaçando tomar o controle da situação, mas Harry não deixou. — Senta em mim. — isso não foi bem um pedido.

E quem sou eu para negar uma ordem dessas, não é?

Harry se apoiou na borda da cama, ainda esfregando seu comprimento. Seu olhar não deixa o meu por um segundo, eu até percebo seus lábios entreabertos, me encarando como se eu fosse a mais bela obra de arte exposta em um museu — Puta que pariu, tô doido pra te sentir, amor. Vai demorar muito? — perguntou todo impaciente, então me encaixei em cima dele, sem enrolar tanto. — Devagar. — orientou ao afastar a mão.

Sentei lentamente, sentindo-o me preencher centímetro por centímetro. Nós dois gememos em conjunto com a sensação. Um sufoco diferente do que qualquer outro que já tenhamos sentido. É como se Harry tivesse sendo esmagado pelas minhas paredes internas, mas foi tão gostoso que não consegui esperar por muito mais tempo.

Comecei a cavalgar bem devagar, apoiando meus joelhos no colchão abaixo de nós. Segurei-o pelos ombros para me equilibrar e foi aí que começou a ficar interessante. Harry revirou os olhos, agarrando a minha cintura com muita força.

— Céus, Harry... Ah. — resmunguei tomada pela excitação. A vontade de gozar é tanta que me descontrolei e comecei a me mover bem rápido, sentindo o prazer tomar cada célula do meu corpo.

— Que saudade que eu 'tava disso. — disse baixo, rouco, focado em observar nossos corpos unindo-se maravilhosamente bem.

— Olhe para mim, porra. — cuspi as palavras, agarrando um tanto de seu cabelo, próximo à nuca, erguendo a sua cabeça para olhá-lo nos olhos. Algumas lágrimas escapam deles, tamanho o prazer que sente. Harry mal consegue mantê-los abertos.

— Por favor... — agora foi a vez dele implorar por mim, erguendo o quadril vez ou outra para acertar-me mais fundo. Gememos juntos de novo e eu logo dou atenção ao seu pescoço, beijando, inalando o seu cheiro natural, aquele cheiro de loção pós-barba que é o meu fraco…

Harry tremeu abaixo de mim, choramingando como se estivesse tentando ao máximo se segurar. — Meu deus, eu não vou aguentar muito. — avisou, trêmulo, se esforçando realmente — Amor!

— Harry, fica quietinho, sim? — perguntei rebolando o máximo que podia. Apoiei-me melhor em meus joelhos, erguendo um pouco o quadril para descer no seu pau. Repeti esse movimento diversas vezes, até sentir que trouxe Harry ao seu limite.

— Oh, merda... Eu... Eu…

— Não! — eu gritei do nada, o assustando. Fui parando de me movimentar e Harry arregalou os olhos, me jogando na cama com uma brutalidade inacreditável.

— Não se atreva! — rosnou entredentes. Ele ergueu uma de minhas pernas e se enfiou em mim com uma força inumana. Dessa vez eu gritei, e gritei bem alto. Tenho certeza que fui ouvida por alguém, mas essa possibilidade ao menos me preocupou naquele momento.

— Assim, Harry... — soei manhosa, o estimulando a me foder desse jeito, nesse ritmo porque eu adoro isso. Harry me olha a todo momento, dando o seu melhor para me agradar e é isso o que me deixa ainda mais boba por ele.

— Vou gozar dentro de você, amor... Foda-se! — avisou e fez isso sem que eu pudesse contestar (e eu não iria fazer isso). Vim também, quase no mesmo instante que ele.

Harry foi diminuindo suas investidas e caiu ao meu lado, respirando rápido. — Jesus, eu senti mesmo a sua falta. Não faz isso nunca mais, amor. Eu não suportaria... — disse letárgico e eu assenti, sorrindo um pouco.

— Não vou fazer mais. Eu prometo, H.

✦ ✦ ✦

[belartvenus]

Fanfic Rec - Review de algumas fics que andei lendo! (July, 2023)

Uma lista de recomendação diferente... Decidi recomendar as fanfics que li nesse primeiro semestre de 2023, e fazer uma breve review. Espero que gostem!

You are worlds away by wildestdreams | +54k 

“Eu conheci alguém,” Louis suspirou, pegando um copo e servindo-se de um pouco de cerveja.

“É por isso que você está assim?” Liam perguntou, apontando para o cabelo e o rosto de Louis, que sem dúvida estava todo bagunçado e debochado. Louis conscientemente tentou arrumar o cabelo e fez beicinho no rosto.

“Ele era muito fofo.”

"Quem era ele?" Niall perguntou, tomando sua cerveja.

Enquanto Louis ia atender, alguém tocou em um microfone, acalmando todo o bar. Louis lentamente girou em seu assento enquanto os holofotes se iluminavam no palco. Uma vez que seus olhos viram quem estava parado ali, Louis exalou, "foda-se".

ou Sex Monarchy são lendas locais na Universidade de Brighton. Todos adoram seu som rock 'n roll e são obcecados pelo charmoso vocalista Harry Styles. Todos menos Louis, que os acha totalmente pretensiosos.

Sinceramente... Ler essa história foi uma grande coisa. Eu quase pensei que Harry e Louis não iriam conseguir, mas (spoiler) eles conseguem.  Foi uma história linda e gostosa de acompanhar, um pouco angustiante, mas uma leitura que não me arrependo. Essa fanfic é uma preciosidade.

Deep sea, baby by outropeace | 28k 

“Bunny, o que há de errado? Aconteceu alguma coisa?"

E só com isso, Louis sabia que não havia sido sequestrado ou levado para uma pegadinha. Ele realmente estava em seu inferno pessoal, onde o ex-amor de sua vida ainda se importava com ele o suficiente para fazer o café da manhã, chamá-lo de nomes carinhosos e se preocupar com ele. E não vamos esquecer a parte em que seu melhor amigo aparentemente não era mais seu amigo.

"Eu sou…"

'Você é o que??' Ele pensou. Ele não podia dizer à mãe que não tinha ideia de como passou de um belo apartamento em Hampstead para acordar em um “Não sabia que era casado e tinha um gosto desagradável para lençóis”. episódio. Ela só ia se preocupar e pensar que ele simplesmente perdeu a cabeça. Ninguém acreditaria nele - para ser franco, ele também não acreditaria.

Ou: a dimension travel au onde Louis acorda casado com um homem que ele deixou anos atrás, vivendo a vida que ele estava com medo de viver.

Ler essa história foi uma diversão TOTAL, já disse nesse blog antes que eu amo as fanfics de outropeace. Para quem não sabe, essa fanfic se passa no universo de Dark Doom, Honey (não é uma sequência, mas uma história a parte como se fosse outro universo). Ambas as histórias são obras primas.

A kiss from a rose by princelouisau | +26k 

"Que porra foi essa?" Louis grita, apoiando-se contra a parede do fundo, ignorando a dor do corrimão cavando nele. O elevador não está fazendo nenhum barulho agora, um silêncio sinistro preenchendo o espaço.

O outro homem parece muito menos em pânico do que Louis, apenas franzindo a testa para a porta como se ela fosse abrir se ele olhasse para ela com força suficiente. "Eu acho que está quebrado", diz ele. “Provavelmente vai recomeçar em um minuto. Lugares como este provavelmente acontecem o tempo todo.

Louis não se sente nada confortável com isso.

ou dois estranhos ficam presos em um elevador e saem obcecados um pelo outro.

Não me lembro se já recomendei essa fanfic anteriormente em uma lista ABO, mas reli ela esse mês e acho válido (voltar) a recomendar. É uma história simples (mas bem trabalhada) e bonita de amor, com um pouco de angustia.

Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) | +114k 

Louis abre os olhos piscando, as pálpebras tremulando enquanto a sala gira ao seu redor. Ele toma vários goles de cerveja quando confirma que definitivamente não está alucinando, que o primeiro retrato que Harry Styles pintou dele está pendurado naquela parede.

Louis olha para a parede, com o coração batendo forte no peito quando ele percebe que não há apenas uma pintura dele, há cinco, os retratos alinhados como se fossem uma espécie de storyboard retratando a ascensão e queda de seu amor mais profundo. Sua maior mágoa. Uma dor que o cortou tão profundamente que ele deixou a porra do país, cortando todos os laços com sua vida em Nova York, agora de repente o cercando como se nunca tivesse partido.

Puta merda filho da puta porra.

Louis retorna à cidade de Nova York cinco anos depois de deixá-la – e o amor de sua vida – para trás. Ele não pretendia ver Harry novamente, mas o destino tem um jeito engraçado de uni-los, gostem ou não. Depois de fazerem uma trégua relutante, os dois começam a se perguntar: seria tão ruim assim se a história se repetisse?

Essa fanfic foi um ACHADO precioso demais! Me pretendeu completamente e me fez chorar (um pouquinho), ao mesmo tempo que ri bastante e só queria fazer eles darem as mãos e fazerem as pazes. 

Rock My World by reader_chic_2 | +14k

Harry jogou o cara corpulento para longe do homem gostoso e sem noção em segundos. Harry virou as costas para o poço de homens turbulentos e plantou os pés para mantê-los firmes. "Você está bem, garoto?"

O homem que ele salvou era ainda mais bonito do que Harry esperava. Seu nariz minúsculo e elfo se enrugou com o nome do animal de estimação. As linhas pretas ao redor de seus olhos tornavam seus olhos azuis ainda mais impressionantes. Suas maçãs do rosto eram proeminentes, tornando seu corpo ainda mais pequeno. “Meu nome é Louis e estou bem. Sai de cima de mim, pervertido!

Harry não tinha percebido que manteve a mão livre contra a parte inferior das costas ou que manteve o homem pressionado diretamente contra o peito. Harry odiava soltá-lo nem um pouco; Louis estava muito mais seguro aqui. “Você não pode ver que eu sou segurança? Que é meu trabalho salvar idiotas como você?

"Idiota?" Louis gritou para ser ouvido sobre o homem que estava gritando no microfone. “Bem, me desculpe por ser pequeno, seu idiota! Não é minha culpa que eles bateram em mim!

. . .

Ou quando Louis vai ao seu primeiro festival de rock e se encontra quase morrendo no meio da multidão selvagem, ele deve sua vida a Harry Styles, o segurança gostoso e furioso que nunca falha em salvá-lo.

Uma fanfic sexy e divertida, quem não ama? O único defeito é que acaba! Achei que o final ficou um tanto em aberto, mas é nítido que era a intenção de quem escreveu. 

Piece by Piece by lovelarry10 | +168k 

Agora que seu melhor amigo Liam vai se casar, Louis Tomlinson precisa de ajuda, e ele finalmente admitiu isso. Ele não pode trabalhar e ser o melhor pai para seu filho deficiente Mason sem isso. É aí que entra Harry Styles.

E assim começa a história de amor de uma vida.

Pensei muito antes de recomendar essa fanfic, pois essa fanfic, a leitura dela, foi um risco, afinal ela não foi “etiquetada” (tag bottom louis). E, de fato... A fanfic é 98% bottom louis, mas faltando uns 4 ou 3 capítulos para acabar, acontecem duas cenas de smut bottom harry que, na minha opinião, ficou ali meio jogado... Mas, decidi recomendar mesmo assim pois a história é muito linda e bem trabalhada/desenvolvida pela pessoa que escreveu, a leitura valeu a pena, mas essas duas cenas finais... 

To Carry Love by lovelarry10 | +21k 

Pegando alguns anos depois de Piece by Piece , alcançamos os Tomlinson-Styles enquanto eles comemoram a chegada do primeiro filho de Liam e fazem algumas escolhas próprias...

Essa é uma sequência de apenas um capítulo da fanfic anterior, mas diferente de sua antecessora ela é 100% bottom louis, e não é preciso ler a primeira parte para ler essa (pelo menos, eu achei, mas acredito que isso interfira no apego aos personagens). É uma história bonita e divertida.

True blue by maroonmoonlouis | +23k

Louis sempre se orgulhou de fazer planos. Em seu primeiro ano do ensino médio, ele passou a noite inteira codificando com cores um plano de cinco anos para levá-lo à carreira exata em que está hoje.

Quando seus pais não permitiram que ele e Zayn assistissem à estréia à meia-noite do último Harry Potter, ele criou uma intrincada apresentação de slides mapeando cada resultado com o qual seus pais estavam preocupados e rebatendo todos os argumentos que tentaram apresentar. Na semana passada, ele se sentou com Harry e o forçou a ouvir seu processo de dez passos para garantir a primeira fila no show de seu artista favorito.

É com essa experiência que ele começa a traçar outro plano. Um para começar a puxar seu peso e também para provar a Harry e a todos que ele é muito capaz de se defender sozinho, muito obrigado

- Ou, Louis e Harry são o casal mais codependente. O propósito da vida de Harry é cuidar de seu ômega e o de Louis é ser mimado. Depois de muitos golpes de seus amigos e colegas de trabalho, Louis está determinado a mostrar a Harry que ele é capaz de sobreviver sozinho, enquanto Harry tem certeza de que Louis vai terminar com ele a qualquer momento.

Sinceramente, na maior parte da fanfic eu queria sentar com os dois em um sofá fazer eles conversarem sobre suas angustias como uma terapia de casal. Eles são um casal perfeito, nada precisa mudar! Felizmente, tudo acaba bem no final.

Where I Burn to Be by pleasinglouis | +143k 

Poucas pessoas conseguiram irritar Louis com tanta facilidade quanto Harry, e menos ainda que conseguiram em apenas um dia e meio. Foi uma grande conquista, realmente. Eles só interagiram um punhado de vezes e ainda assim Louis tinha o desejo insaciável de bater o armário naquele rosto frustrantemente bem definido que nunca parecia ter nenhuma expressão além de desprezo e arrogância. "Isso mesmo. Eu possuo os céus. E você quer saber por quê? ele zombou. Sem as botas, Louis era um pouco mais baixo do que Harry, seus olhos praticamente na altura do queixo de Harry e os dedos dos pés com meias batendo nas botas do outro homem, perto o suficiente para que Louis pudesse ver a pequena cicatriz na testa de Harry e o tons individuais de esmeralda em suas íris. Ele era bonito, mas isso só fez Louis odiá-lo ainda mais. Com o coração batendo forte contra o esterno e as mãos fechadas em punhos, Louis levantou o queixo desafiadoramente e colocou um sorriso frio nos lábios. “Porque eu sou o melhor piloto aqui.” . . também conhecido como Top Gun AU

Não é novidade que eu sou uma GRANDE fã de pleasinglouis, então estive aguardando essa fic por MESES até que ela fosse postada e... UAU! A fanfic superou tudo o que imaginei, ela é incrível e me prendeu demais, o desenvolvimento, a angústia, as cenas deles voando nos céus... Uau.

Until the Pearls Get Lost by LadyLondonderry | +25k

Londres, 1933. Harry Styles, alfa, solteirão indescritível e feliz terceiro volante para seus amigos casados, recebe a visita de um certo Liam Payne, implorando por sua ajuda.

O amigo de infância de Liam, Louis, está prestes a se tornar o assunto da cidade; deixado no altar porque o vínculo de acasalamento foi rejeitado, Louis passará o resto de sua vida em uma instituição, a menos que Liam encontre alguém para acolhê-lo e cuidar dele enquanto se recupera. A maioria dos ômegas com ligações falhadas nunca mais são as mesmas.

Com rumores circulando sobre o motivo do vínculo rejeitado, Harry cede aos apelos de Liam. Ele não tem a menor ideia de como essa decisão vai moldar o resto de sua vida.

Achei a fanfic um tanto confusa devido as reviravoltas (que são boas!), mas acredito que pode ser uma experiência de leitura isolada minha. De qualquer forma, é uma história muito boa! Gostaria de uma possível continuação.

Help Me, Help You Find Love by Haroldstylinson29 | +23k

Eu ajudo as pessoas a ficarem juntas, não a se apaixonar Estilos”

“Acha que pode abrir uma exceção para mim, Tomlinson?”

---

Aquele em que todos frequentam uma universidade para sobrenaturais e o presidente da Werewolf Frat e galã residente, Harry, se aproxima do casamenteiro do campus, Louis, para ajudá-lo a encontrar o amor.

Mais uma fanfic boa que eu adoraria uma sequência! No começo, as intenções de Harry são meio ambíguas, até que você percebe que o sentimento dele por Louis SEMPRE esteve lá.

The changing season in a messy world by satelarry | +8k

Prompt nº 35: H&L filho alfa começando a receber os hormônios alfa mal-humorados da adolescência. Um dia ele liberou toda a sua raiva de sua doce mãe quando tentou falar com seu filho e Harry realmente não gostou disso. "Ele pode ser sua mãe, mas primeiro ele é minha esposa e ninguém fala assim com minha esposa"

Essa fanfic é muito mais centrada no filho deles e na família deles no que em Harry e Louis como casal, mas é uma ótima fanfic, e a maneira como ela foi desenvolvida é muito interessante. Alías, eu AMEI o Harry alfa marido protetor com seu ômega!

And when it rains, you're shining down for me by martisgotaproblem | +37k

“Este é Harry, ele será seu paciente,” Liam gesticulou educadamente.

Harry congelou quando os olhos de Louis encontraram os seus mais uma vez. Ele sentiu que estava se perdendo naqueles olhos, tanto que não percebeu Niall e Liam saindo da sala silenciosamente, mas o som da porta se fechando atrás deles o tirou do transe.

"Olá, eu sou Louis," o ômega disse, estendendo a mão para Harry apertar. O alfa ainda podia sentir algum nervosismo em sua postura, mas decidiu ignorá-lo.

“Sou Harry.”

Ou aquele em que Harry é um boxeador mal-humorado que se machuca e Louis é o adorável fisioterapeuta contratado para ajudá-lo, mas engravidar não estava exatamente em seu plano de recuperação.

Eu AMEI essa fanfic, foi uma leitura gostosa e eu gostei de como o relacionamento deles foi se desenvolvendo aos poucos antes mesmo do bebê aparecer! Além disso, eu AMO boxer Harry, para quem não sabe, eu já escrevi uma fanfic em que Harry é boxeador (quem tiver interesse, meu Wattpad deve tá linkado em algum lugar por aqui no blog, mas podem me pedir pelo ask), então eu amo ler fanfics em boxer Harry. Por favor, escrevam mais!

Whisk me off my feet by allwaswell16 | 5k

Quando Louis se tranca fora de seu apartamento vestindo apenas uma cueca nova, ele espera que seu novo vizinho possa resgatá-lo.

Uma fanfic mega curta igual essa review, mas pense numa história que me fez rir! 

Tell Me How To Feel About You Now by justyrae | +38k

Louis pensou que seria diferente quando chegasse a LA. Ele sabia que era melhor para ele; um novo começo tão longe quanto ele poderia chegar. Mas quando o avião pousou e ele saiu para o ar quente em torno de LAX, Louis sentiu exatamente o mesmo.

Ainda há um buraco em seu peito onde costumava estar seu coração; arrancado mesmo depois de tentar por tantos anos impedir que isso aconteça. Ele sabe que não é tudo culpa dele, nem de longe, mas isso não o impede de se culpar por tudo ter dado errado.

Se ele tivesse permanecido forte, se tivesse dito não quando disse sim, talvez tudo fosse diferente.

Ou, Harry tem tentado convencer Louis a sair com ele há anos, mas Louis sempre foi cauteloso com os problemas de compromisso bastante óbvios de Harry. Louis eventualmente lhe dá uma chance, abrindo seu coração para a única coisa que ele teme.

Pense numa angústia, mas VALE A PENA. Eu particularmente gosto de me torturar com fanfics break up/make up.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | +95k

Harry estava na maior boyband do mundo. Ele também foi metade do melhor (ou pior, depende de quem você pergunta) relacionamento secreto mantido na indústria da música.

Agora, quase cinco anos depois, depois que One Direction terminou, e o relacionamento de Harry e Louis também, um vídeo ameaça colocar tudo em risco.

Um irlandês determinado, um grande golpe publicitário e dois ex-namorados relutantes são tudo o que é preciso para trazer o One Direction de volta à vida e talvez, apenas talvez, a vida amorosa mutilada de Harry e Louis também.

Ou: Harry e Louis são forçados a um encontro falso depois que surge um vídeo antigo de quando eles estavam namorando.

Essa é para quem curte fanfics compatíveis com canon (com a realidade, eles famosos, One Direction, carreiras solos e afins). A fanfic superou minhas expectativas e me surpreendeu de uma maneira muito boa, e a reconciliação deles... Linda.

Your memory over me by shimmeringevil | +64k

Três anos se passaram desde que Louis o viu pela última vez, mas bastou alguns minutos na presença de Harry para que ele fosse relegado ao desesperado jovem de 21 anos que estava praticamente implorando ao namorado por um pingo de garantia de que ele ainda se importava. ele.

Harry não deveria estar aqui. Ele trouxe muitos sentimentos não resolvidos com ele, que Louis pensou que nunca teria que enfrentar.

É a aparente apatia de Harry que é a mais difícil de aceitar. Raiva, ele poderia lidar. Arrependimento, ele gostaria. Mas a amabilidade e o comportamento despreocupado de Harry só podem nascer da indiferença.

Ele mudou. Ele não se importa. E isso é algo que Louis acha que nunca será forte o suficiente para enfrentar.

-

OU - O pior desgosto da vida de Louis volta quando seus pais convidam seus amigos da família para uma viagem com todas as despesas pagas para o vigésimo quinto aniversário de casamento deles. Enfrentando um passado que tentou enterrar há muito tempo, Louis descobre que algumas pessoas têm um jeito de ficar com você mesmo quando já se foram.

Fiquei triste. Fiquei feliz. Fiquei com raiva. Triste de novo. Raiva de novo. Feliz de novo. Quem ta certo? Quem ta errado? Estão todos certos ou todos errados? Um misto de emoções essa fanfic, o que so evidencia que ela é boa.

Hold Me How the Deep Night Has by crochetsunsets | +48k

Louis Tomlinson precisa de uma mudança. Preso em um ciclo de ir para o trabalho que ele odeia, passar tempo com seus amigos e evitar o homem que ele mais odeia neste mundo, Louis precisa desesperadamente de algo novo. Assim, quando descobre um caderno abandonado a caminho do trabalho, fica fácil a decisão de pegá-lo para si e começar um diário em meio às páginas vazias. O que não se pode esperar são as palavras que aparecem da noite para o dia diretamente ao lado da sua, escritas no mesmo dia 400 anos atrás. Quais são as consequências de uma conexão mágica entre dois homens de séculos diferentes? E quem, no meio disso tudo, é o misterioso E que só existe do outro lado do diário de Louis?

ou

O que acontece quando o amor transcende o próprio tempo.

Vocês não imaginam o quanto o Harry é precioso e o QUANTO ele ama o Louis! Sinceramente, essa fanfic é maravilhosa.

Welcome Home by Jelon | +49k

Louis Tomlinson teve que interromper sua carreira no futebol por alguns meses e decidiu voltar para casa para descansar um pouco, apenas para descobrir que um dono de cafeteria realmente estranho começou a visitar sua mãe regularmente. com uma criança igualmente peculiar, mas adorável, chamada Maxine.

Mais uma fanfic que me fez chorar e sentir um misto de emoções, mas emoções muito boas! A relações que os dois junto com Maxine constroem é linda, um amor puro e forte (quando eles enxergam isso)! Vale a pena demais ler essa fanfic mesmo quando pensamos que tudo está perdido.

Captain Cupid by 2tiedships2 | +15k

“Certo,” Niall começou, finalmente tendo a oportunidade de liberar seu plano horrível. “Bem, como vocês dois sabem, sou um excelente casamenteiro. Um Cupido humano. O melhor dos melhores em encontrar um companheiro. E decidi que é hora de ganhar dinheiro fazendo isso.”

“Oh, Deus, não,” Louis gemeu, pegando seu prato vazio e colocando-o na pia. Ele precisava escapar o mais rápido possível.

Ou aquele em que Niall convoca seus amigos para ajudar a iniciar uma agitação lateral de encontros rápidos. As coisas não saem como planejado... ou talvez saiam?

Mais uma fanfic divertida para essa lista apesar de algumas fanfics aqui terem algum choro! Um clássico friends to lovers para você em uma boa história.

Know I Think You're Awesome, Right? by princesshalo | 60k

“Bem, isso não é muito Trate as Pessoas com Gentileza da sua parte.”

“Nenhum dos dois é abordar alguém com a única intenção de criticar uma causa pela qual eles são claramente apaixonados, dada a quantidade de tempo que eles dedicaram a defendê-la”, retruca Louis.

"Claro, mas não sou eu que tenho o botão," Harry dá de ombros.

"Então, há realmente algo em que posso ajudá-lo, ou você só veio me forçar a borrifar pimenta em você também?" Louis está rapidamente ficando impaciente. Inferno, ele estava impaciente no momento em que Harry fez sua grande entrada no campus ontem.

“Estou apenas tentando avaliar o ambiente aqui”, diz Harry, “porque se isso é tudo que você tem a oferecer às pessoas trans que só querem poder usar o banheiro em paz como o resto de nós, então eu não tenho certeza se me encaixo.”

"Permita-me poupar-lhe o trabalho, então: você não."

~

Baseado no prompt: uma university AU onde Louis é um hippie, ativista de boas vibrações e Harry é um punk, anarquista que sempre se envolve em protestos violentos.

Eu amei a forma como essa fanfic teve essa vibe enemies to lovers envolvendo esses temas, e eu AMO punk Harry, com toda certeza! Fala sério, quase imploro para o Louis no começo dar uma chance ao Harry que fica caidinho por ele.

You Are My Familiar by princesshalo | 27k

Louis perde seu cachorro e Harry pega um vira-lata. Um ano inteiro se passa antes que eles percebam que é o mesmo cachorro, e isso meio que complica as coisas.

Quem não ama uma comédia ou um drama envolvendo cachorros, né? Ainda mais cachorros trocados. Quem ama uma leitura divertida e rápida com um pouquinho de “pining”, é um prato cheio.

Noble Intentions by Speechless | 43k

"Eu poderia banir você." ele está dizendo, atingindo aquela nota arrogante em sua voz suave. "Eu poderia-" ele ofega, tomando um momento para engolir em seco. "Arruinar você."

"Ainda," Harry responde, deixando-o recuperar o fôlego. "Aqui está você, me deixando lamber sua boca como se você já pertencesse a mim."

Louis é um belo príncipe ômega impaciente para perder a virgindade. Harry está desesperadamente apaixonado por ele e só quer acasalar com ele se e quando Louis concordar em se casar com ele.

Eu absolutamente amei tanto essa fanfic! Eu ri tanto das ideias mirabolantes do Louis e com pena do Harry tendo que resistir a todas elas! Maravilhoso.

If I don't have you (there'll be nothing left) by SadaVeniren | +28k 

“Qual é o problema dele?” Louis exigiu enquanto andava pela cozinha de Niall e Ed. Eles iam fazer um pow-wow e descobrir o que estava acontecendo com Harry.

“Talvez ele não consiga fazer um nó?” Niall sugeriu.

"Eca", disse Liam.

“Duvido”, disse Louis. “Ele parecia perfeitamente bem até que seu amigo o puxou de cima de mim. Além disso, posso tê-lo chamado de cabeça dura no início da noite e ele não fez um único comentário para mim sobre isso.

AKA Louis pensou que depois de conhecer Harry em uma festa, tudo se encaixaria. Se ao menos a vida funcionasse tão bem.

Eu AMO essa fanfic e antes de reler, passei tanto tempo procurando por ela! Eu amo como Louis omega que toma atitude e decider cortejar o Harry alfa do seu jeitinho, e como o Harry vai cedendo a isso. É diferente do que gosto de ler, mas me conquistou.

The List by Rearviewdreamer | 32k 

'Nas semanas que se seguem, Harry abre seu antigo diário mais do que nos últimos dois anos, cada vez que se lembra de Veneza ou pensa em Louis. Ele sempre vira para a mesma página aleatória no meio do livro, marcada pela foto sua que Louis lhe enviou alguns dias depois que eles chegaram em casa. Há uma mensagem no verso que diz: 'Espontâneo fica bem em você! Vejo você em breve', e isso faz o peito de Harry esquentar cada vez que ele lê. Ele separa a lista entre as páginas gastas e parece bobo olhar para um pedaço de papel dobrado com uma estranha sensação de nostalgia por experiências que ainda não tiveram; para lugares onde nunca estiveram.'

Essa fanfic é bonita, eu amo como o relacionamento deles foi desenvolvido e tudo que eles começam a viver juntos antes e depois disso.

I been feeling high when I touch your body by notasawrap | 17k

Quando Louis acorda no dia seguinte, seu pescoço dói de tanto dormir no sofá, e Harry se foi, mas na mesa à sua frente está um post-it que diz:

'Você babou um pouco na minha camisa, mas foi muito fofo. Estou indo para a academia, espero vê-lo novamente em breve.'

Harry é boxeador, Louis é arquiteto e Liam é o pior cupido que poderia existir.

Mais uma boxer Harry nessa lista para a minha alegria! Infelizmente, mais uma fic curtinha nesse tema, mas uma ótima leitura!

Things I Can't by reddhede | +67k

Louis tem um plano para sua vida. Ele vai ser o primeiro da família a terminar a faculdade. Ele vai ser médico - o melhor médico do país. E ele vai trabalhar duro para garantir que seus irmãos mais novos nunca tenham que se perguntar se eles têm os meios para perseguir seus sonhos.

Ele não tem espaço em seus planos para um relacionamento com uma musicista sedutora sem esforço, e muito menos para o filho que inesperadamente resulta dessa união. Louis está em uma encruzilhada que nunca pensou em planejar, e agora deve tomar uma decisão: entre o que deseja agora e o que mais deseja.

Vocês não imaginam o tanto que eu SOFRI lendo essa fanfic, mas essa história é linda, eu prometo! Arrisquem a leitura!

Through chaos as it swirls, it’s us against the world by sweetfairydreams | +31k

Harry Styles é enviado em uma missão suicida, em suas mãos a vida de centenas de homens que estão indo direto para uma armadilha. ele acaba encontrando louis, o menino francês mais bonito que já viu, e um bebê, no porão de uma cidade morta.

baseado no filme 1917

História linda de bonita, eu amei ler essa fanfic, é lindo o desenvolvimento, a construção da família deles, apesar da angustia no começo... Me arrependi de ter enrolado para ler essa hustória.

Enfim...

Boa leitura! Exisitiriam mais fanfics que eu gostaria de por aqui, mas a recomendação acabaria ficando grande demais (mais do que é). É isso! Espero que gostem.

[annieezzz]

AMORE

“Slow down, you’re doing fine” 

Sério, toda a vez que eu ouço essa música eu lembro do quanto a gente é conectada e o quão fácil foi se tornar sua amiga e amar você. 

Além de querer te parabenizar e te desejar todas as melhores coisas deste mundo, eu também quero te agradecer.. quero te agradecer primeiramente por você ser exatamente desse jeitinho único e também por ter comentado um story meu e ter me dado a sorte grande de te conhecer e poder te chamar de amiga ou melhor TWINX. 

Fêr, nesse seu novo ano, eu desejo que você realize todos os seus sonhos e que você esteja sempre cercada de pessoas que consigam celebrar a pessoa extraordinária e maravilhosa que você é, que você seja lembrada todos os dias pelo quanto você faz diferença na vida das pessoas e o quão única você é. 

Eu poderia relembrar cada momentinho nosso que apesar de ser online teve tanta intensidade ou mais do que outras coisas que vivemos pessoalmente, poderia relembrar os nossos surtos por “larry”, as nossas risadas quando achávamos um absurdo algumas coisas em “models”, nossos momentinhos em que ficamos apaixonadas e fissuradas com “the hamptons” e “htwac” ou quando ficamos completamente nhonhonhon com “ftm” e passamos a colocar o amor dessa fic como meta de vida. 

Sabe, amiga… tenho certeza que todos esses momentos da minha vida só se tornaram tão memoráveis porque você está inclusa em todos eles. 

Não sei se alguém já te contou, mas você tem essa energia de “casa” onde qualquer pessoa consegue se sentir facilmente segura e aceita e isso é uma das melhores qualidades que uma pessoa pode ter. Se eu pudesse voltaria no momento exato do nosso encontro no show do Louis, aquele momento inesperado, exatamente como foi o começo da nossa amizade. Eu te chamei com tanta certeza que não tinha como não ser você e então, aconteceu.. inesperado e lindo, como se fosse a explosão da supernova. 

Amiga, eu só quero te lembrar que eu vou estar aqui por você SEMPRE. 

não importa que a gente não nos fale mais todos os dias como costumávamos ou qualquer coisa assim, você sempre vai ser minha twinx e eu sempre sempre vou estar segurando a sua mão e eu tenho certeza que ainda iremos á Itália, ainda assistiremos ao pôr do sol de Firenze enquanto tomamos um gelatto de menta com chocolate. 

Tenho certeza que ainda vamos conhecer o Louis e o Harry juntinhas, conhecer mesmo.. eles vão passar do nosso ladinho em Londres e então iremos chegar e dizer: “Você é o culpado por me dar uma das melhores pessoas que eu já tive na vida” e então, eles irão achar a coisa mais fofinha do mundo. eu tenho certeza. Ainda vamos passar em um estúdio de tatuagem em Firenze e cogitar aquela ideia dos planetinhas somente por conta do nosso amor por ftm, louis tomlinson, harry styles e por nós… (off: eu toparia. 

Enfim, esse pequeno textinho é só pra você lembrar um pouquinho do quanto eu amo você e o tanto de sorte que eu tenho por ter você na minha vida, gênio. 

Obrigada por ser um dos presentes mais lindos que os larrys poderiam ter me dado. 

Te amo daqui até Firenze a pé em passinhos homeopáticos de bebê.

[ao3feed-larry]

the sound of my heart beating when I'm with you

by thinklrry

Se mudar para Los Angeles com uma proposta de trabalho nova foi o motivo de Louis sair de casa, para longe do conforto e quietude do colo da sua mãe e do seu lar, do barulho dos seus irmãos e da bagunça dos almoços de domingo.

Encontrar seu próprio lugar em uma cidade nova pode ser um grande desafio, lidar com o sentimento de estar sozinho mesmo com tantas pessoas ao redor é um adicional, sair dessa zona é o mais difícil.

Porém, Los Angeles o mostra que lar é tudo aquilo que te faz bem, que te desencadeia o sentimento de estar completo, de conforto, seja o causador disso o abraço de sua mãe, uma cidade que não para nunca, um sentimento, uma garotinha barulhenta e curiosa, um beijo que encaixa perfeitamente, o cheiro de alguém ou conversas sussurradas nas altas horas da madrugada.

Words: 11066, Chapters: 4/4, Language: Português brasileiro

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson - Character

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Slow Burn, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Family Fluff, Fluff, Domestic, Top Harry, Kid Fic, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/h5KQc9R

[aquarri]

ABO Fics (Omega Harry):

- Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by angelichl (113,663 words)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

- Rooms on Fire by softfonds (34,131 words)

Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

- Face Your Fears by SadaVeniren (92,219 words)

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

- eucalyptus by docklands (46,014)

Harry didn't mean to get pregnant at all. When little Agnes comes along, his bachelor life takes a turn and he has to figure out how to single parent, with the occasional help from his best friend and co-worker, Zayn. Everything is running smoothly until Agnes starts acting strange, crying non-stop, sleeping at the most unconventional hours and not caring that she's ruining Harry's life. Her doctor says she's just an infant and that there's nothing wrong with her. Harry's instincts tell him the doctor's wrong and that he needs to seek a second opinion. Agnes' new paediatrician, Louis Tomlinson, is enthusiastic, passionate about his job and a little too charming for Harry's lonely heart to take. More than figuring out what's wrong with her, Louis ends up revealing secrets about Harry's life he had never even dreamed about.

- Say Something by kingsofeverything (105,497 words)

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

- Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche (18,104 words)

Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

- Still Standing Still by creamcoffeelou (44,475 words)

Louis has long since been following the same schedule, the same program, the same everything. He works hard towards his goals and gives everything to those that mean the most to him. Harry was never a part of the plan, but Louis finds he loves unplanned changes.

- I’ve Kissed Honey Lips (Felt the Healing in the Fingertips) by loveroflou (36,195 words)

Carefully, Zayn starts, “You do know Niall wasn’t joking about him being unstable, right?” Louis opens his mouth to cut him off, but Zayn continues, “He might not have done anything yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t, or won’t.”

“You don’t know him,” Louis tries, because it’s true. The only problem is that Louis doesn’t really know Harry, either.

or, the raisin cookie fic

- i want to be just as close as the holy ghost is by devilinmybrain (34,549 words)

Louis wants only three things in life - to pass his classes, to find a cure for hangovers after a night out with the lads, and to get church going, goodie two shoes omega Harry to go out with him.

- english rose by harryanthus_annuus (31,852 words)

OR Louis works on the 19th floor. It’s such a cliché to fall for the elevator girl, but no one resist Harry Styles

- Blush by MellowHex (33,408 words)

Harry is a young omega, presented at his first Royal ball, when he first meets Louis, the King. They're immediately infatuated with each other, but in the ancient hallways of the castle, whispers travel far and wide, and what they want is not what they're allowed to have.

- the beast you made of me (4,766 words)

The one where Harry's a vanilla-sweet Omega and Louis walks into his bakery one day.

- Our Lips Are Made Of Candy (10,751 words)

Or, Harry accidentally missed a few doses of his medicine that controls his heat and starts his heat in the middle of Biology. Oops

- The Money Mark by brightgolden (52,529 words)

Where Louis is Harry’s first sugar daddy who dumped him over text and their paths cross, seven years later.

- Is it a sign? by bluegreenish (25,602 words)

or, the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

- Let's Embrace The Point Of No Return by sweaterpawstyles (33,980 words)

Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There's some complications.

- I’m insatiable, it’s all your fault by CuckooTrooke (21,777 words)

The last thing Harry expected when he started a new job was to meet his truebond. The only problem is, his truebond happens to be one of his students, and he's never been the man to dismiss his morals.

- I’ll Be Here Waiting on Forever by sweaterpawstyles (46,673 words)

A Romeo and Juliet AU where Louis is an alpha prince who falls in love with Harry, an omega prince from the neighboring kingdom

- Love in the Dark by brightgolden (90,802 words)

Where Louis is an ambitious Advisor Council that is reluctant to find a mate, and his father takes the matter into his hand while Harry is the valedictorian in his kingdom destined for better things than an arranged marriage.

- Here’s Your Perfect by brightgolden (54,170 words)

In the world where mates are assigned to everyone and deposited to their door when an agreeable partner is found for them, Alpha Louis has recently been given his. However, he is nothing like the type of alpha that the omega academy prepares Harry for.

- Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes by softfonds (59,205 words)

What happens when a Duke who will only marry for love and a courtesan who only sells it create a public ruse? Well, nothing boring for sure. An Edwardian AU.

- Looking to Drown in Your Ocean by abaddxns (32,175 words)

Or, an omegaverse friends with benefits AU in which feelings run deeper than they appear, the most obvious people in the room are the most oblivious, and Niall is actually the best kind of instigator.

- Lost in your Paradise by SadaVeniren (6,383 words)

“To the alpha I fucked at the Ziam concert, I think this is yours.”

aka Harry and Louis have a one night stand.

- London Calls Me a Stranger (9,280 words)

Or the one where Harry is a tease, and Louis is his new neighbour.

- Club Queen on the Downtown Scene by onlylearsfool (~6,028 words)

- you pop when we get intimate by DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry (7,450 words)

Harry has never been eaten out before. His pack leader offers to show him what it's like.

A lot of orgasms ensue.

- These High Walls by LarryAlways28 (68,876 words)

- Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by SadaVeniren (42,495 words)

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

- Every heart but mine by rainblou (17,291 words)

In the years leading up to his presentation, Harry hoped that his soulmark would appear, that his soulmate would present first and Harry would have irrevocable proof that his other half was out there, waiting for him.

Years later, he's given up on waiting and with a heat coming up, his eyes are set on Louis Tomlinson to help him through it.

- everything to lose by stylinsoncity (92,223 words)

harry is a global popstar who's convinced the world he has it all -- a happy marriage to a devoted alpha, two beautiful children, two grammy awards, three platinum albums, and a budding film career. but some aspects of his image aren't as true as they seem. like the fact he's been separated for over a year, uses meaningless flings to cope and occasionally forgets responsibilities or commitments to his family.

he and louis once commanded stages together. they tackled any challenges to their future. and no matter how hard things got, they always returned to one another. harry would always return to louis. until one day, he finds he can't.

- holding onto heartache by likelarry (105,775 words)

Harry and Louis' relationship start off as something causal as Louis finalizes breaking his bond and marriage to his Omega.

Harry develops feelings for Louis and thinks Louis might feel the same but when Louis tells Harry he wants to give his marriage a try again, Harry doesn't reveal how he feels.

Nor does he tell Louis that he is pregnant with his kid.

They happen to meet again a few years later and Harry can't seem to run away anymore, even from his feelings.

- and i would search the night sky to find you by devilinmybrain (56,376 words)

Harry Styles is a high class, well-bred Omega attending Bosworth Academy - a prestigious boarding school looking over the small town on Kinsey. He has his whole life already planned for him, learning his place as the potential mate for an important Alpha, practicing his home making skills, and be obedient above all else.

When he attends a school trip into town though, he meets Louis Tomlinson - a blacksmith and mouthy Alpha who doesn't particularly care for the standards of high society nor for the people in it. But things are not always what they seem and a past grievance may change the lives of everyone involved forever.

- taken by lust's strange inhumanity by CuckooTrooke (20,606 words)

The one with all the jealous snarling, awkward first kisses and one unforgettable night.

- Take Me As I Am by lovelarry10 (117,895 words)

Secrets. Lies. Deception. Betrayal. Self-discovery.

Alpha. Omega. How far will they go to hide the truth?

- Your Dad Will Do (3,737 words)

Harry accidentally flashes Louis’ dad, his father in law, and hates himself for it.

- No Love Like Your Love by Rearviewdreamer (43,392 words)

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

- Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by InsightfullInsomniac (23,437 words)

AKA: A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.

- you are that love of mine by me_her_themoon (17,165 words)

They stop in front of the heavy mahogany doors that will soon reveal his future husband to him. When he walks back through this very threshold, he will be Harry Tomlinson. 

- Angel Baby by brightgolden (51,890 words)

When Louis’ sugar-baby-turned-mate suddenly wanted a pup, he simply couldn’t say no to his bright-eyed omega. After all, who didn’t want a mini Harry running around the house?

He should have known that it wasn’t all wonderful in the wonderland of baby making.

- put a little love on me by CuckooTrooke (29,468 words)

Two people who are always taking care of someone else’s needs while ignoring their own, just happen to cross paths.

- Your Eyes Outshine The Town by InsightfulInsomniac (19,289 words)

When a freak French snowstorm traps Harry's family in Paris, he's suddenly left flying home for a Christmas spent alone. However, everything changes after a chance encounter with an undeniably attractive, generous alpha who suggests that Harry join his family's Christmas celebrations. Against his better judgment, Harry agrees, and follows Louis back to Doncaster for the holidays.

- Something About You Feels Like Home by MarWritesStuff (40,463 words)

The one in which Harry is a sheltered and inexperienced omega, brought up in a very traditional family, who just moved alone to London to finish his studies. There, he attends a concert by indie band The Rogue. Louis is the lead singer of The Rogue and is a bit tired of not finding a connection. Harry wants to let go of his family's rules and restraints, and Louis wants to find an omega to cherish and take care of.

- Feels Like Snow In September by louisismycat (75,045 words)

A mysterious teenager shows up at Louis' door claiming to be his daughter...with an omega he hasn't seen in 16 years, whom believes their secret love child to be dead.

- is this flying or falling by HoldingOnToChaos (55,762 words)

OR the one where Harry and Louis both go on a trip to Tahiti and meet on the plane

- Half a World Away by SilverStuff50 (9,833 words)

- there's no pleasure in this resisting by etherealbliss (26,280 words)

When Louis, a gorgeous alpha, moves into the flat next door, Harry's attention is immediately piqued. However, after a misplaced noise complaint and a series of interactions with the man that inspire a litany of fantasies, Harry soon realizes his attraction goes far deeper than he had initially assumed.

[matildashoney]

Can you give us like little overviews of the main characters? Like names, roles within the fic, age, job, face claim (if there are any!). Just so we get a good feel of them and can ask follow up questions?? So looking forward to this series!!!

oh my gosh, yes! i love this and the way you worded it. i will definitely give as many details as i can without giving anything away!

our main characters: Hera (June) Collins: twenty-eight, stage engineer, no face claim (as of yet), our love interest/protagonist, Harry's ex Harry Styles: twenty-eight, musician (OU timeline), love interest/protagonist (semi-antagonistic vibes) Isla Fischer: twenty-eight, production manager, no face claim, Hera's best friend Grant West: thirty, light and sound engineer, no face claim, Hera's boyfriend (can we call him an antagonist even if he's a good person?)

other notable characters: Mitch Rowland, Sarah Jones, Jeffrey Azoff, Tommy Bruce

[ellanainthetardis]

Yo j'ai vu le challenge des questions pour auteurs de fics ressurgir sur mon dash, alors j'en profite pour t'en poser aussi, sur les Cicatrices du coup!

quelle est la scène que tu as préféré écrire jusqu'à maintenant?

y-a-t-il une scène que tu es vraiment impatiente de pouvoir écrire?

y-a-t-il une scène que tu voudrais réécrire différemment?

Hello! Du coup on parle de la trilogie je suppose pas juste de la fic?

(c'est dur parce que ça fait mille ans que je l'écris cette fic )

quelle est la scène que tu as préféré écrire jusqu'à maintenant?

Les deux scènes que j'avais préféré écrire dans Les Cicatrices, c'était le match de Quidditch contre Gryffondor et la scène où Severus sort Harry de la Cabane Hurlante. Dernièrement les scènes que je préfère écrire, j'avoue, c'est les scènes Severus/Tonks ou Severus et Sirius, même si j'adore aussi les scènes familiales entre Harry et Sev.

Sur LDS, cela dit, une des scènes que j'avais très envie d'écrire c'était la scène où l'Ordre se retourne contre Severus et lorsqu'il est démasqué.

y-a-t-il une scène que tu es vraiment impatiente de pouvoir écrire?

Je suis impatiente d'ENFIN pouvoir révéler l'espion. XD

y-a-t-il une scène que tu voudrais réécrire différemment?

En vrai, on va pas se mentir, si je retouchais les Cicatrices ou l'Armée y a pleins de choses que je ferais différemment (mieux calculer les âges des uns et des autres par exemple, mais on ne parle pas de ces petits problèmes mathématiques) parce que forcément j'étais plus jeune et j'avais moins d'expérience. Le style me parait hyper enfantin maintenant.

Merci pour ces question <3

[dhr-ao3]

9 crimes

9 crimes https://ift.tt/DE4NUnh by Ladyjo Cette histoire à été posté pour la première fois en 2012 sur fanfiction.net. Cette histoire est vieille, et bien que mon style d'écriture est désormais bien changé, j'ai décidé de tout gardé dans son jus. Est ce que j'y reviendrais un jour pour corriger ? Peut être, mais honnêtement personne n'y croit. Même le résumé est d'époque, profitez de ce morceau d'histoire d'un autre temps ! Hermione… Nous aurions pu changé beaucoup de chose, si nous avions eu plus de temps, mais la guerre t'as brisée. Es tu morte, ou vivante ? Vais je encore entendre ton rire ? DEATHFIC, écrire sur la musique : 9 crimes True Blood Version Words: 718, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Français Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Death, Parent-Child Relationship, They had a kid, she dies, Old Fic, Don't Judge Me, Song fic, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, who cares via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/vVk5lM6 November 02, 2022 at 02:03PM

[harrygoeswest]

Harry Styles is your sworn enemy. You've decided to take a holiday in the Scottish Highlands, and so has he. And there's only one bed…

~~~

A/N: Hiiiiii! I think I announced this like 3 months ago and never finished it, but we're finally here! I actually really fucking love this story. I've never done this 'one bed' trope before, nor an enemies-to-lovers OU, because EVERYONE loves H man, right? Well, not this YN. And he's not too fond of her either. I'm really excited to share it with you. Again, what started as a one shot grew into a two-parter because I simply cannot contain myself when the ball starts rolling. Anyhoo, to my forever friend @all-things-fic, thank you as always for reading this through and making me snort at your comments and being the ultimate validator <3

Word Count: 13,261 Trigger Warnings: Swearing (obvs), vomiting, bed-sharing with a sexy man

~~~

Rain. Persistent, unabated, never-ending, relentless rain. It was all you’d heard and seen all day and you were sick of it. You’d never really minded it until today, but thanks to one shit-show after another, you were ready to relinquish it. You wanted it gone. Your summer holiday was already off to a bad start.

“Bad day?”

Where to begin?

A cabin in the Scottish Highlands had sounded like the perfect escape for a four-week break away from the city. You had work to do, deadlines to meet, but at least you could do it without being interrupted. Without the sounds of pedestrians and car horns and wayward seagulls and bike bells. Yep, the Highlands still sounded perfect, but the endless string of catastrophes made you wonder if it really was perfect or rather just a ridiculous indulgence.

No. You deserved this break. Bad day or not, the holiday was needed.

When your brother had told you a year ago that he’d bought a holiday home in the Highlands you hadn’t exactly been surprised. He and his wife had been talking about it for years, and he’d finally earned enough money through his music career to be able to do it. Sadly, with your own deadlines and packed schedule, this was the first time in said year you’d been able to find time to go.

Apparently the all-knowing entity in your life had other plans.

You were supposed to come by plane first thing this morning, but your car had broken down on the way to the airport and you spent 3 hours waiting for the AA to rescue you. You had then managed to rearrange your flight to a later one, but because of the weather, all other flights out of Bristol had been cancelled for the day. You then spent a ridiculous amount of money on a 10 hour train from Bristol to Inverness with a change at Edinburgh in between, and were now forking out on a taxi to take you the rest of the way.

At that particular point in time, a cabin in the middle of nowhere seemed like a dreadful fucking idea.

“Could say that.” You managed weakly.

The driver chuckled to himself and you tried not to squeal. “Nearly there now. Fifteen minutes or so.”

There is a God!

Forty-five minutes later he finally stopped in the middle of a single track road. Your eyelid had been twitching for half that time, and a headache was forming in your left temple.

He turned over his shoulder and flashed a grin. He was missing an incisor and three of his other teeth were gold. “This is as far as I can get you. Cabin is at the top of that hill.”

You gave him a look, then peered out the window. All you could see was rain and mud and a black night. “What hill?”

“You’ll find it. Fare is sixty.”

“Sixty quid?”

He nodded. “Scottish if you’ve got ‘em. I’m a collector.”

“We agreed on forty. And no, I don’t have any bloody Scottish notes.” A Scottish man collecting Scottish money! On what planet?!

“No, sixty.”

You muttered expletives under your breath and shoved the money at him over his shoulder.

“Y’alright gettin’ your own case, love? Don’t really want t’ get wet.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

In the shittiest, snappiest manner you could muster, you got out of the car and retrieved your luggage from the boot, slamming every door you touched. The driver immediately pulled off once the boot was closed, pipping his horn.

“Wanker!” You yelled after him.

Finding your bearings, you located the ‘hill’ he’d been talking about, forcing down your frustration at the size of the damn thing as you started up the pathway. You dragged your suitcase behind you through the mud, grateful it had a hard and waterproof plastic exterior. At least after all this you’d be able to take a shower and change into clean clothes.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to reach the cabin, thanks to not only the rain but also the brutal wind. When you finally reached the porch you fell onto it, greeted by the most intense relief you’d ever felt. You took a minute to recover from your exercise, and then fumbled around on the dark porch for the stone your brother had left the key under.

“Aha.” Delighted when you found it, you pulled the key out of the rock and shoved it in the door, unlocking it.

Heat floated over your body, as did warm, homey light. Weird. Why were the lights on?

Then did your eyes land on the thing that was most definitely out of place. 

A loud, shrill scream ripped from your body.

A man was in the cabin. A naked man. Mostly. The only thing saving him and you was the towel wrapped around his waist. Shiny back, muscly arms, damp neck, wet hair. At the sound of your wail he turned around, equally as alarmed.

“What the-?”

In his panic, the grip he had on his towel slipped, and you were given more of an eyeful than you ever bargained for. 

You screamed again and reached for the closest thing to you, then lurched it across the room at him. Then your brain caught up with you, and you pulled the door closed again, separating you from him. You were back outside in the cold.

That man wasn’t just anyone. He’d never been just anyone. He was your sister-in-law’s friend. He was your brother’s boss, to a degree. He was your worst fucking nightmare rolled into physical human form.

He was Harry fucking Styles.

This was officially the worst day of your life.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You repeated, over and over again as you paced the porch, head in your hands. You knocked into your suitcase multiple times and it ended up falling down the porch steps into a muddy puddle. You tripped over a loose piece of decking at least twice. You caught your hip on the porch bannister, too. But none of it registered with you while your brain cycled between images of Harry’s naked back and his large appendage.

How could this be happening? What had you done to deserve such a catastrophic start to your holiday? You couldn’t stay here. Not with that man. That man that you hated, and who hated you in return. This was a disaster.

You dug your phone out of your sopping handbag. No signal. 

“Oh, come on.” You hissed.

Stubborn as always, you tried to call your brother anyway. Repeatedly. Twenty times, at least, each one failing to connect. You couldn’t even leave a voicemail. You raised the phone to the sky like it was baby Simba. Still nothing.

“Fuck!”

The door swung open, and Harry said your name in a low grunt.

You swivelled, glare like a dagger. “You. Why the fuck are you here?”

“Why am I here?” He scoffed. He was clothed now, in a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. “Why are you here?”

“This is my brother’s cabin! I have a key! He said I could stay here!”

“Well, guess what?” He leaned forward, arms crossed. “Holly said I could stay here, too.”

You wanted to throw your phone at his stupid face. “Fucking great.”

“There’s obviously been some misunderstanding.” He straightened.

“You don’t say…” 

His gaze narrowed. “You’re impossible.”

“At least I’m not the one who’s stupid enough to state the obvious.”

You turned away again and tried your brother one more time. The beep beep beep that told you the call had failed yet again had your stomach in knots.

“There’s no phone signal here.”

“Yes, thank you. Just go back inside.”

“No.”

“For the love of Christ, why not?”

“I’d rather see what you’re going to do with yourself.”

You turned another glare on him. “Oh, I’m so glad that the shitty situation I’ve found myself in is entertaining you, Harry. Please, mock me some more. The resulting anger might actually take the chill out of my fucking toes.”

He looked like he was about to open his mouth, but you didn’t let him.

“You know, this really has been the day from hell. It’s been a categorical disaster from start to finish, and finally getting myself here only to find you, of all people, really is the cherry on top of my whopping slice of shit pie. So please, do me this one favour, and sod off back inside.”

His jaw ticked, and he emitted a low growl before he slammed the door of the cabin and left you in the cold, wet night.

A sob wracked through you, and you flopped down on the top step just to let your body deflate for five minutes. It was so cold you were shivering. Your clothes clung to your body like sheets of ice, your lips were cracked, and a bite ate away at your toes.

You knew you couldn’t do much tonight. You’d have to wait until tomorrow, for when the storm hopefully passed, and you could call your brother to give him a gobful and then walk into the village to find a B&B or cheap hotel. You hadn’t forgotten that your train ticket was a set day return for four weeks’ time. You’d just have to wait until Harry was gone before you took your time to enjoy the cabin like you’d planned.

When you finally calmed down you dragged your suitcase out of the mud and dropped it on the driest part of the deck. You dug around for the jumper you’d brought with you and pulled it over your frozen torso. You also took your shoes and socks off and put two clean pairs on. Once you were wrapped back up in your coat, you settled on the armchair that was the least wet and tried to go to sleep.

After five minutes or so, the cabin door creaked open again.

“Come inside, please.” Harry’s voice was void of any emotion.

“No.”

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here.”

“Rather that than share a bed with you.”

“And you think I want to share a bed with you, either?”

“Then we’re both on the same page. I’m fine out here.”

“You are not fuckin’ fine out here. It’s shitting it down, for fuck’s sake, you could get a flu. Or worse.”

You hadn’t opened your eyes so you had no idea what his facial expression read. “I’m surprised you give a shit enough to care.”

“I don’t particularly, but I like your brother and I don’t want him thinking I didn’t at least try to get you to be sensible when it’s fucking biblical outside.”

“I’ll pass.”

Harry took a deep breath, and he muttered, “Bloody insufferable woman,” before he slammed the door again.

You snuggled further into the chair, shoving your hands under your face. You thought that would be the end of it, but no more than thirty seconds later the door swung back open. You pretended to ignore him, expecting a verbal taunt. Instead, all you got was scuffing noises.

Pushing down the urge to growl like he did at you, you squeezed your eyes shut and faked indifference at his huffy grunting. Until he dragged you out of the chair and hauled you into the cabin in three easy movements.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, scowling at him as he locked the door behind you.

“You can be as stubborn and petty as you like about this, but you are not staying outside in the rain. End of story.”

“I was fine!”

“You were not fine.” He folded his arms again. “Look at you, for fuck’s sake. You’re about five seconds away from catching hypothermia. You think I want that on my hands? You, of all people, needing my attention every day for the next five weeks? I don’t, by the way. I came here for a holiday, too.”

“I didn’t bring myself here to be a God damn burden to you, Harry. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why don’t you go and get in the shower, and maybe you’ll calm the fuck down.”

You inched closer to him. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love that. Me, following your orders like some sycophant.”

He took a step closer to me. “I would, actually. It might make you somewhat tolerable.”

“Get fucked, Harry.”

“Sounds like you need that more than I do.”

You produced a noise somewhere between a grunt and a squeal, and shoved at his chest once before you stalked away. “Prick.”

He hummed, entertained. “Try not to think about mine while you’re in there. I’m sure the sight of it has left you with enough to be desired.”

Too tired to argue with him anymore, you threw your middle finger at him over your shoulder.

Whether you’d been forced inside against your will or not, you really did want a shower before a permanent chill settled over you. You turned the water on and let it run hot. The second it swilled over your body you let out a helpless moan. 

You stood stoic underneath it for an indeterminate amount of time, just willing your body to warm up. The day washed away from you, worries temporarily forgotten while you soaked up as much heat as you could. Oh, it was glorious. A shower had never been so rewarding.

After a while you realised you didn’t have any of your shower stuff with you, still locked in your suitcase, and you let out a huff. You surveyed what Harry had brought with him and spent too long debating whether it was socially acceptable to wash using your mortal enemy’s shower gel. You decided against it and would properly wash in the morning.

Taking another ten minutes, you decided you were ready to face Harry again and whatever bollocks he might throw your way. You found a towel and gave your hair a dry, then wrapped it around your body. You hadn’t thought this through in your desperation to get away from him.

You stepped out of the room with purpose and marched over to where Harry had abandoned your suitcase after dragging it inside earlier, and carefully picked your way through it to find your pyjamas and toothbrush. Without giving the man even the slightest glance, you locked yourself back up in the bathroom to change and clean your teeth.

“Forget your clothes?” Harry asked at your second reappearance.

“Why ask a question you already know the answer to?” You gave a roll of your eyes.

He sat straighter in the armchair he was settled into, “Why answer a question with another question?”

You ignored him. Instead you gave yourself the opportunity to actually take in your brother’s second home. You realised it was tiny. Like Tiny Home tiny. When he said he’d bought a cabin you thought he meant something like a chalet. But no, this was small. A kitchenette had been built into the right-hand wall by the front door with a fridge, a two-plate hob and a stainless steel sink. Two armchairs sat either side of a small birch table, and a double bed at the back of the room with a cherrywood wardrobe. A woven rug gave the space a homey feel, balancing the bare oak that gave foundation for the rest of the place.

A sinking feeling buried in you when you realised there wasn’t a sofa.

You rubbed a hand into your cheek, feeling slightly cheated by your brother and his wife. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Harry said into the quiet, all malice and jest lost.

“I feel like it.” You admitted, turning your stare on the bed. “I’m just tired.”

He cleared his throat and stood. “I sleep on the left.”

You refrained from giving him another eye roll and instead focussed on settling down. You left your phone on the dining table, plugged in to charge overnight, poured a glass of water which you drank in one long swig, and then returned to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

Harry had settled on the left side of the bed but with his head at the foot and his feet at the top. If he slept on the left, did that not completely defeat the purpose of his claim?

“Top and tail.”

“Yeah, no. Absolutely not.” You shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I am not giving you the opportunity to stick your foot in my face at any given point in the night.”

He kissed his teeth and sat up with a scowl. “Woman, you have got some major fuckin’ trust issues.”

“With you I do, absolutely.”

You waited until he was in bed the right way up before you slipped in yourself and turned the light off. The room was cast in darkness and your eyes struggled to adjust. You faced away from Harry on your side, wriggling to find a comfortable position, and you could hear him doing the same.

His foot was definitely on your side of the bed so you kicked it away. He then tried to take the covers off you, but you were quick to snatch them back. He let out a deep sigh.

“Can I have some of the quilt, please?”

“You’ve got some.”

“I have none.”

“Bullshit.”

He ripped the covers away again, and you fought the urge to squeal.

“Give some back.”

“You have some.” He said in the same tone you had.

“Harry.”

“What?”

“I’m cold.”

“You’ve just spent an hour using up all the hot water so I refuse to believe that.”

“What is your problem?”

“You are.”

You grit your teeth. Folding your arms, you scooted as close to the edge of the bed as possible without falling off. Arguing with him was fruitless, it just left you angry and wired.

Tomorrow, you resolved to find somewhere, anywhere else to stay. For now, you’d try to sleep uncomfortable and coverless.

~

Had you slept?

No.

For hours you’d imprisoned yourself on the edge of the bed, cold and coverless, hugging yourself in an attempt to keep warm, and squeezing your eyes closed just praying that sleep would come. But it never did. You’d think after the day you had yesterday it would be easy to just drop off. Why would it be that simple for you?

You knew it was light outside now thanks to the inside of your eyelids. You decided then to give up. Sleep wasn’t coming.

As you opened your eyes you realised how close to the edge of the bed you were. At the same time, Harry wriggled again, further onto your side of the mattress, and his knee nudged your backside.

Oh no.

Struggling to find anything to hold onto, your body tumbled over the edge. A panicked yelp tore out of you, followed by a grunt and a thud when you hit the floor.

“Ow.” You whimpered. You’d fallen on your front, knee and toe first followed by your head. You rolled onto your back and held onto your forehead as if it might stop the pounding you felt.

Laughter started, and your eyes flew open to find Harry hovering over the side of the bed, green eyes shining. You were, actually, somewhat offended by how entertained he was. If it was acceptable to hit people, you’d be hitting him.

“You alright down there?”

“No I’m not fucking alright, Harry.”

Your own anger made the throbbing in your head worse so you stayed on your back.

“Alright, was only a question.”

“This is your bloody fault - you’re a bed hogger!”

“Yeah? Well you snore!”

“Considering I didn’t get a single second of sleep last night I don’t know how you’ve landed on that conclusion, and I can only assume you’ve made it up to piss me off.”

“You were snoring.” He said in a flat voice.

“No I wasn’t.”

The throbbing got worse again, so you squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then another.

“You’ve hit your head.”

If the thought of rolling your eyes didn’t make you nauseous you’d absolutely do it. “If there was an award for Best Observationist, you’d win it.”

“Do you need ice or something?”

His voice had changed and it somewhat startled you. You peeled an eye open again to find he hadn’t moved - he was still hanging over the bed. His expression, however, was neutral.

“Yes. Please.”

He gave a curt nod and then disappeared. You closed your eyes again, willing the throbbing away.

“There isn’t any ice.”

You refrained from screaming, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. “Okay.”

“Here,” his voice was much closer, and he gave a little pat to your knee, “this might help.”

Peeling an eye open, he flashed a couple of boxes of painkillers. “Panadol.” Of course the man had branded paracetamol. The 95p boxes of Sainsbury’s own shoved in your kitchen cupboard looked shameful right about now.

“Extra strength. And that rapid relief ibuprofen.”

“You brought painkillers with you on holiday?”

He shrugged. “I’m here for a long time. Hangovers need encouragement to get fucked.”

You raised a sceptic brow. “And here I thought some magical mystery Nutri-Bullet recipe would be your saviour.”

“Funny.” He muttered.

Huh. How unlike him not to shove a witty rebuttal at you.

“Do you need help getting up or are you just gonna sit on the floor all day?”

Your scowl returned. “I’m fine.”

On shaky legs and with a fuzzy head, you grabbed the side of the bed and hauled yourself up. You weren’t sure if the sudden ringing in your ears was something you should be worried about, but you persisted.

Once sat, Harry handed you the tablet boxes and fetched a glass of water for you while you thumbed out two of each.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“Please and thank you in the space of ten minutes?” He goaded. “Sounds like you’ve got a concussion.”

“My parents didn’t raise me in a barn.”

He stood with his broad arms folded across his chest while he watched you swallow down four tablets, face a mishmash of irritation and something else. You refused to believe it was concern so you attributed it to frustration. You were just ruining his holiday the same way he was ruining yours.

You decided to finish the water, and then Harry took the boxes and the glass from you. You laid back down, shielding the room and your eyes with your arms.

“Sure you don’t need a hospital?” His voice was far away.

“Yes. I just need to close my eyes for a bit. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t answer, and you were thankful. Any more talking and your head might have exploded.

~

You’d fallen asleep. While you hadn’t intended to, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the respite. There was no way you would’ve been able to do anything on zero hours sleep, so a few was better than nothing.

You sat up, noticing that you’d corrected yourself direction-wise on the bed and pulled the covers over you. You must’ve done it subconsciously.

The cabin was quiet. Almost eerily so. There was no sign of Harry anywhere. The only sign that he’d been there at all was his own suitcase tucked away in the corner. No sound came from the bathroom, and all you could hear outside was birds.

Birds. Not rain.

You scrambled out of bed towards the front door and hauled it open, but it was locked. Harry had locked you in. You found the key your brother had left for you on the table and put it to use.

It was glorious outside. Not a cloud in the sky, blue everywhere, green even more so. And it was warm. Summer dress warm. Your feet itched to go outside, but you knew you needed to take it easy. The headache hadn’t completely subsided, but it was tolerable. Barely there. A shower and some food would fix it.

You closed the door and locked it again, determined to start your day. Steadily.

You were about to head straight for the shower when you noticed it. A brown paper bag trapped under a pretty mug, and a jar of instant coffee wedged inside it. The mug lived here - you recognised it from Holly’s old flat. But the greasy brown bag did not. You noticed the letters GF scrawled on the front.

He remembered.

Warning bells started screaming inside your head as you plucked the bag out and opened it up. The smell of cooled buttery pastry wafted from inside, and you pulled out the biggest croissant you’d ever seen.

The message was clear as day. Eat and get some caffeine in you.

This was bad. Angry Harry you could deal with any day of the week at any time of day. You could even cope with jester Harry, because you gave just as good as you got. But this? Base-level concern? It threw you for a loop.

Regardless, you were starving. So you boiled the kettle and made your coffee just how you like it as you tore off pieces of pastry and gobbled it down. While you waited for your coffee to cool once your croissant was demolished, you took a quick shower.

Half an hour later you were out the door and feeling a hell of a lot better than you had done for weeks. You wandered down into the village, the sun a glowing comfort on your bare skin.

You had a mission today: alternative accommodation.

You kept an eye on your phone for patches of signal, and called your brother whenever you found some. He never answered. Part of you wondered if he was ignoring you, and if that was the case you were going to have a very big problem. He only ignored you if he was avoiding you.

And that wasn’t even your biggest problem.

“I’m sorry, we’re full.” The receptionist at the final B&B said with barely an ounce of emotion.

“The sign outside said you had vacancies.”

“I just sold the last one over the phone. Haven’t had time to change it.” She gave me a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

You fought a petulant sigh. “Do you know where else I can stay? I’ve tried every B&B here and no one has any vacancies.”

“Why don’t you try an AirBnB.” She suggested with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “You young people seem to love those.”

Ah, so this was a territorial issue. You gave her a flat glare and left without another word.

Yet again, you found yourself in a rut. Your good mood had been successfully wiped away. Maybe you would check AirBnB, but the thought of spending another obscene amount on accommodation filled you with a sickly feeling.

Your phone started ringing, much to your surprise. Holly. “Is my brother ignoring me?”

“I don’t know, but if he was, he probably wouldn’t tell me.” She laughed, always a fan of your no-nonsense approach. “I thought I’d call since I haven’t heard from you. Did you make it there alive?”

“Alive is not the word I’d use to describe my current state. It’s also impossible to call someone when the phone signal is worse than a World War II air raid shelter.”

Holly cackled. “You’re such a nerd. What’s wrong?”

“Either you’re playing dumb to avoid my wrath or you’re very stupid.”

She gasped your name but she was most definitely entertained. “What do you mean?”

“Harry is here. Using your holiday home.”

An extended period of silence followed, completed with a breathy, “Oh… shit.”

Oh shit, indeed.

“Well,” she seemed to shake herself, “it can’t be that bad.”

This one was truly off her rocker. “Can’t be that bad? Holly, how many times have you been in a room with me and Harry at the same time?”

“Plenty.”

“Exactly. How many times have we had a fight whilst in said same room together?”

“Almost always.”

“Not almost always, just always. We. Do. Not. Get. On.”

“Oh, babe, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.”

“There’s only one fucking bed!”

Holly went quiet for a minute, and you realised you’d earned the attention of a few passers by. You sat down on a nearby bench, wary of the throb in your head getting worse.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked.

That set you off. You launched into your shitty day from yesterday, from the car breakdown to the taxi driver to hitting your head this morning. Words without breath had never left you so fast and the feeling you were rewarded with after was less than satisfactory. Deflation. Sadness.

“Oh, hun, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going.” You were certain she was lying about that last sentence but you didn’t interrupt her. “I’ll get in touch with Harry and tell him to rein it in.”

“I don’t need you to curb the man on my behalf, Hol. I can handle him myself. I just… I really wish he wasn’t here.”

“Do you want me to make him leave?”

A rare sight of guilt crept its way into the centre of your stomach. You battled the urge to say yes, because you knew if Holly asked him to, he would absolutely go. “No… hardly fair. He was here first.”

“Yeah but I bet you would’ve been if all those things didn’t go wrong yesterday.”

You grunted. You were supposed to arrive just before 9am yesterday morning, not close to 11pm. “Don’t make him leave. I’m a bitch but I’m not a complete cunt.”

“You’re not either of those things by any stretch. My friend just happens to know how to really rattle your cage.”

Ain’t that the truth. “I’m trying to find a B&B or something but they’re all full.”

“Oh, please don’t spend more money.”

“I can’t stay in your cabin, Hol. I didn’t sleep last night and that man does not know how to share a queen bed.”

“It’s actually a three-quarter bed.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned.

“Look, we wanted it to be as spacious as possible there. We didn’t anticipate two people who claim to hate each other having to share it. It’s for cuddling.”

That urge to smack someone reared its ugly head. “You’re ridiculous.”

She laughed from the back of her throat, and as irritated as you were it did make you smile. “Take a long walk, babe. If you’re in the village there’s a great ice cream place near the church that’ll make you forget all about He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can say Harry, for fuck’s sake.”

She screamed as if she’d been burned, teasing you.

“Shut up.” You actually managed to laugh. “Fine. I’ll go find some ice cream. But if they’ve got WiFi I will absolutely be looking for an AirBnB.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

“Do me a favour and tell my brother to stop being a wuss.”

“Oh, come on, you know he can’t handle your wrath. You can tell him yourself, anyway.”

You started looking around to see if they’d actually come up and were just loitering nearby to piss you off.

“What?”

“We were going to surprise you but I think you might murder us if we did. We’re on our way to you. My Nanna will be coming, too - we’ve got a table booked at the pub in the village.”

Unbelievable. “You little minx.” 

One of the reasons Holly and your brother bought a holiday home in Scotland was to be able to spend more time with Holly’s family. While she grew up in London and has never left it, her mum’s side of the family are all in Scotland.

Holly giggled, obviously delighted with herself. “Sorry. We’re set to arrive in about two hours.”

“But where are you staying?”

“My Nan’s house.”

“Not got a spare room, has she?” You mumbled.

“I know you don’t mean that, but she doesn’t. We’re staying on her pullout.”

“Damn.”

“We’re gonna go straight there and then come to you afterwards, alright?”

You took a deep breath and stood up from your bench. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”

“Byeee!”

You were already making a beeline for the ice cream shop by the time she put the phone down.

It was a cute little parlour, like something straight out of a movie. Retro tiles covered the walls and floor in pinks and yellows, two long display freezers to the left full to the brim with every single flavour one could ever imagine. Tables spread across the right and spilled onto the street, and booths in the corner each had a miniature jukebox on top.

“How can I help you?” A man behind the counter asked, dressed in a full uniform complete with the little hat.

“Hi, um,” you gave him the best smile you could, even if you were overwhelmed, “do you have any gluten free cones?”

“Sure,” he gestured to the stand on the top with a variety of cones, from small to ridiculously large in size, “just this one.”

The cone in question was the most pathetic-looking of them all. You did your absolute best to hide your disappointment. “Great, then I’ll have one of those. Chocolate, please.”

“Which type?” He lifted a brow.

You realised then that there were about ten different chocolate flavours. “Er… which is the best one in your opinion?”

That perked him up. He spent the next five minutes listing off reasons why the chocolate and hazelnut flavour was his most popular of all his options.

“I guess that’s the one I want, then.” You forced another smile.

“Coming right up.”

Something made you shiver, but it wasn’t a gust of wind or the freezers you stood by.

“At least try and act like you’re excited about it.” A deep voice murmured, far too close to your ear for your liking.

You practically hissed and took a very purposeful step away. “Jesus, Harry.”

He laughed, but the sound wasn’t spiteful like it usually would be. “Only you could make ice cream seem rubbish.”

“I don’t think ice cream is rubbish,” Was your only retort. You just wished gluten free cones didn’t look so fucking sad.

The owner handed you your cone and you paid him in cash. “Do you have WiFi in here?”

“Sure. Password’s on the wall up there.” He pointed at a laminated sign, and then turned his attention to Harry. “Hey, aren’t you that guy?”

Your cue to leave.

While Harry had an awkward conversation with the parlour owner about which guy he was, you connected to the internet and took a seat on the patio outside with your back to the sun. A satisfied hum left you at the warmth on your skin. You concentrated on demolishing your ice cream before you made a mess of yourself.

Unfortunately, Harry decided today wasn’t the day he was going to leave you alone. He sat down opposite you with a three-flavour cone, the colours unsettlingly unnatural. He looked uncomfortable, and this time it wasn’t because of you.

“What on Earth is that?”

“This is a masterpiece.” At least he could still behave like an idiot even when he’d been ‘spotted’.

“It looks disgusting.”

You watched him with a deep-seated discomfort as he shamelessly licked around his cone. Unfiltered moans came out of his mouth, but you were certain he was acting up for your benefit.

“What flavours are they?” You just had to ask.

“Mint chocolate, bubblegum and ginger.”

“Ginger?” You almost choked on a hazelnut. “Sir, you have a serious problem.”

He laughed again, that same obnoxiously easy sound as before. “Did you just call me sir?”

“I did and I immediately regret it.”

He made a noise, an amused squeak of sorts. “Why did you look so horrified by yours, anyway?”

You shifted in your chair, having just popped the end of the cone in your mouth. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the owner wasn’t listening, pleased to find him distracted by a large family. “The gluten free options for cones was utter shite.”

“How so?”

“Well, he only had one type, and it was poxy as shit.”

He snorted. “I thought it looked small. I don’t imagine it being a lot of fun.”

You were immediately reminded of the croissant he’d picked up for you. You knew that you needed to say thank you, even if it did feel like taking a punch in the gut. “Thank you for the pastry.”

He paused mid-lick as if you’d just spoken a foreign language. He looked ridiculous and almost child-like, green eyes wide and pupils so narrow thanks to the sun they were barely visible. He rescued a drip before he made a mess. “Welcome. How is your…” he tapped his temple.

“Yeah, better.”

“Good.”

You returned to silence, and you got busy looking for a new place to stay. The options were… lacking. You knew the decision to go away during the school holidays would be a silly one anyway, but you wanted the heat. You wanted a summer holiday. Not a cold and wet one. But at such late notice in an area with limited options to begin with, all that was really left were large houses for groups of ten or places miles and miles away that would cost yet more money to travel to. The only other thing you could think of was buying a tent and pitching up on a nearby campsite, but you fucking hated tents and camping.

As time wore on and Harry’s ice cream disappeared, you noticed him growing more restless. You glanced up a couple of times to find him with his head down, but you eventually figured out the source of his discomfort. He was shooting looks at something over your shoulder while constantly readjusting his ball cap.

You straightened in your seat and twisted yourself slightly to get a better look.

“Don’t turn around.” He muttered without looking at you.

You frowned. “Why?”

He never gave you an answer so you did it anyway. A couple of tables over someone was doing a very bad job at hiding their phone.

For God’s sake. 

“Do you want to swap seats?” You offered.

He gave you a startled look, and admittedly you were surprised at your own suggestion. “No.”

“You sure? The back of your head is way less appealing than the front of it.”

You could see the confusion spread across his face and you wished immediately that you could take your words back. He was too wound up to mention it now, but you knew he definitely would in the future.

“They’ve already got about fifteen minutes worth of pictures, there’s no point moving now.” He huffed and readjusted the hat on his head once more, eyes downcast.

You pursed your lips in thought. After a moment you readjusted your seat so that you were hopefully positioned right in the way. Harry gave you a blank look, eyes still darting to the people behind you.

“Do you want to go?”

“Not particularly.”

You knew what he meant. He shouldn’t have to leave just because other people didn’t know how to behave like normal human beings.

A minute later the table behind you stood and left, so something had at least worked.

“Thank you.” He said it so quietly you nearly missed it. “Your lack of subtlety was almost entertaining.”

You weren’t offended by that. You hadn’t meant to be subtle. “I know we don’t get on but I respect your privacy. You should’ve asked them to delete it.”

“Then it just makes me look like a prick.”

“But you are a prick.”

He broke into another laugh. That laugh that held no malice or spite. The one he’d only debuted today. Then he slid back to stoicism. “I’ll be all over the Daily Mail again tomorrow anyway.”

Something weird happened. Anger materialised in your chest, and it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling in the slightest. What was unusual was that it came on Harry’s behalf. Usually you felt this way because of Harry, not for him.

You cleared your throat. “It’s okay to tell people to fuck off every once in a while, Harry.”

“Not when you’re me, it isn’t.”

“It is when people don’t know how to set boundaries.”

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” He readjusted his cap again and sunk further into his seat. “Not the first time I’ve been spotted on holiday.”

“With a mystery woman, no less.”

He snorted. “Sorry in advance.”

“For what?”

“You’re about to become the most interesting person on the planet. I’d privatise your Instagram.”

“It already is. Nor is it very interesting.”

“Just… I don’t know. I know what they’re like.”

“You think I give a shit what a bunch of people on the internet think about me?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Have I ever given a shit what anyone else has thought about me?”

He tipped his head. “No.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s their boundaries I’m worried about.”

“Don’t be. If those pictures do make it anywhere, I’ll have no problem telling the next person to fuck off if it comes to it.”

The smallest smile tugged at his lips. “Then I really hope for their sake that there isn’t a next time.”

~

You hadn’t left the parlour until you’d come up with a solution to your living arrangement. It took longer than you’d like, but eventually you settled for the only option; in two weeks you’d let Harry have the cabin and move into an AirBnB a few towns over. A bungalow this time with a very big bed. You’d had to fork out a deposit since it was a booking of more than 7 nights, which put another lovely dent in your bank balance. You were really trying not to think about it. 

Harry hadn’t passed comment when you told him. He just gave a blank stare and a curt nod, which was very unlike him. When it came to you, he’d never had any problem parting with his opinions.

You’d been ambushed on your way back to the cabin by your brother and Holly. After changing and freshening up you all walked down to the pub together to meet Holly’s Nanna. You had met her at the wedding but only briefly. Your brother and Holly’s special day had been somewhat dampened by the fact that Harry materialised again whenever you forgot about him and ended up drinking yourself into an early bedtime. The next morning you were rewarded with the worst hangover of your entire life.

Nanna was amazing. One of those larger than life women who weren’t afraid to drop the c word a couple of times without so much as batting an eyelid, and using Malibu as an excuse for a good time. You’d been seated on a round table which relieved you to no end. You were sandwiched between Nanna and your brother which meant there was a decent amount of distance between you and Harry.

“I need you to tell me something.” Nanna patted your arm, giving you her full attention.

It was like being addressed by royalty. “Anything.”

“I hear there’s a story about your brother involving nappies and toothpaste. A serial offence. He won’t tell me and Holly conveniently doesn’t know about it.”

You gave your brother a look.

“Please don’t.” He begged.

“But Nanna asked so nicely.”

“You’re about to embarrass me in front of the man I work for?”

You don’t look at Harry. “It’s not like you haven’t managed that all by yourself on previous occasions.”

“Yeah, don’t stop on my account.” Harry coughed, battling laughter.

“Great, we’re all on the same page.” You grinned. You turned back to Nanna, “Once upon a time, my little brother had to sleep in a crib and wear nappies just like all the other babies. He was cute, it should be said. I have a picture on my phone somewhere of him running around the garden with no clothes on.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and sunk into his seat with a scowl. Holly gave him a patronising pat on the shoulder.

“Anyway, beside the point. Like most toddlers he was an absolute tyrant, compared to me - I was an angel.”

“Hard to believe.” Harry muttered.

“Aye,” Nanna shot him a look. She’d been smitten with him all night until that point.

“Don’t worry about it - we’re in an ongoing feud.” You brushed the matter away and continued with your story. “During his reign of tyranny, he adopted a very obscure but passionate obsession with toothpaste. Colgate Cool Stripe only - no other product lived up to his expectations. It all started when, one day, our mother accidentally used adult toothpaste instead of the toddler stuff. An uphill battle began.

“Any time he had to clean his teeth, he’d try and use Colgate instead of the kiddy stuff, and mum or dad would fight with him until he surrendered in a screaming fit and had a toothbrush forced into his face hole.”

Someone sniggered, and your chest inflated. Making people laugh had always pleased you.

“His addiction got so bad, one night he managed to escape from his cot and into Mum and Dad’s bathroom. They found him on the floor with an empty tube and Colgate smushed all over his cute little face. Hours later he had a terrible accident. I won’t go into graphic detail since we’ve just had our dinner.”

Nanna started laughing, a throaty and hoarse sound. Given the amount of times she’d excused herself for a cigarette, you attributed that habit to the unique noise. “And this happened more than once?”

You nodded. “They tried locking it in the cabinet a few times, but he’d always find it. Eventually they changed tactics and just bought Aquafresh instead.”

Nanna hummed and gave him a pointed look. “I’ve always thought you were a picky bastard.”

“Nanna,” Holly gasped, shaking with laughter. She leaned her forehead against her husband’s shoulder.

“I can’t be that picky if I ended up with your granddaughter.”

Holly threw her hands up. “Does anyone else want to bully me today? Between that and being called very stupid I think I might have room for one more insult.”

“Your shoes don’t go with your dress.” Nanna said.

After a beat of silence, the table erupted into laughter.

The waiter returned to offer dessert, which you would usually forego since pubs rarely tended to offer gluten free choices without putting up a fight. You’d learned to live a sad, dessert-less existence. But everyone else was having one so you succumbed to peer pressure.

“What ice cream flavours do you have?”

“For the sundae?” The young girl asked with a confused frown.

“No, I’m coeliac so I can’t have it.”

“Oh,” her cheeks turned pink, which was not your intention, “sorry. Um, just the usual flavours, then.”

Neopolitan.

“Great, can I have two scoops of chocolate.”

“Sure.”

She was very quick to hurry off. Something bothered you about that whole exchange but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Aren’t you bored of chocolate ice cream?” Harry asked, but he was fiddling with his napkin rather than looking at you.

“Never.”

Holly kicked his leg under the table but you pretended not to notice.

After the bill was settled, which Harry tried to sneak off and pay for without telling anyone, you bid goodbye to each other and sent your brother, Holly and Nanna off together in a taxi. The waitress hadn’t stopped giving you wary glances ever since you asked for ice cream, and you still couldn’t place what went wrong. You might have been a little short with her but it wasn’t meant with any malice.

It didn’t really dawn on you what was wrong until you were walking up the hill to the cabin with Harry.

A curdling feeling in your stomach had you feeling very queasy very quickly.

“Oh no.” You mumbled, keeping your gaze on the grass below you. Your vision swung and you struggled to keep your balance.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, turning back to you. He’d been a couple of metres ahead of you for the entire walk so you didn’t have to force a conversation.

You sat down on the grass to keep yourself gravitated, but it was no good. You weren’t nauseous because you were dizzy, you were dizzy because you were sick.

You spent the next ten minutes vomiting into the bushes.

Harry had kept a relative distance from you while you were sick, only handing you a bottle of water when you seemed to give up the last of your stomach contents and take a big breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a cautious voice.

Unattractively, you swilled your mouth out and then necked the remaining contents of the bottle. “Yeah, fine.”

“What happened?”

“I think something went wrong at dinner.”

“What do you mean?”

You gave him a levelled look, trying to communicate with your eyes. It seemed like a ridiculous idea considering you could barely communicate together with words, let alone silent glances.

“Ah… did it say gluten free on the menu?”

You nodded.

“Did you tell them?”

You shook your head. Sometimes you liked to put faith in humanity and believe you’d be fine putting yourself in the hands of others. When you were dining with practical strangers, making a fuss about your condition made you feel like a twat, so you kept quiet about it. Now you wish you’d said something.

“Are you gonna make a complaint?”

You shook your head furiously and readjusted yourself to sit back on your arse rather than your knees. “Happens all the time, sadly.”

“That girl knew they’d fucked up, didn’t she?”

“You saw that?”

“I saw you looking at her a lot after the ice cream thing.”

You made a strange noise. “It is what it is. I don’t blame her for not saying anything. For all she knows I could be going home unscathed.”

“But you’re not.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. I’m not into making a scene.”

“You could’ve been seriously ill.”

“I know that.”

“If you don’t tell them they fucked up, how are they going to know to stop it from happening to someone else in the future?”

You took a deep breath and looked up to the sky. You and Harry had made progress today, on some weird level, but this was not part of that progress. “Fine. I’ll do something about it tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.”

“Leave it alone, Harry!” You finally snapped. “How I handle my health issues is none of your fucking business, especially when you haven’t got a fucking clue what it’s like to have them. Just drop it.”

His jaw ticked. “Fine.”

He disappeared up the hill and into the cabin without so much as another word.

You collapsed onto your back and let a tight sob wrack through you.

You contemplated what the fuck you were doing. This holiday had been nothing but a shit show from start to day 2 and you didn’t want to do it anymore. You should’ve gone home this morning. You’d refused to quit so early on given how long it had been since you had any real time off, but the universe was clearly working against you and you wished you hadn’t bothered.

As it always did, a second round of vomiting ensued, and you were back on your hands and knees hacking up bile while your stomach protested. You cried more as you threw up.

As the convulsions subsided you collapsed onto your back again, but the smell of it was starting to affect you. Slowly, you stood on shaky legs and attempted to make your way up to the cabin.

You hadn’t realised, but Harry was standing at the top of the hill wearing a frown, hands shoved into his pockets. When you caught sight of him you were ashamed. You knew what he’d said came from a good place, but it just really ground your gears when people who had no idea what it was like tried to tell you how to handle it.

He made his way back to you and silently placed his hand on the small of your back. It was warm and unfamiliar, but you couldn’t work out if the trembling from you was because of that or because you were just sick.

“How much more did you see?” You asked, helpless.

He gave you a startled look, like he was shocked to hear you so vulnerable. “Enough.”

You sighed and kept your gaze on the floor, trying not to fall over.

“Do you have any medication or anything?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t really work like that.”

Once you got to the cabin you headed straight for the bathroom and changed into your pyjamas. You then poured yourself a glass of water and took it to bed with you. You were asleep within seconds.

~

You slept through the night that night. When you woke you felt a shit-ton better than you had the night before, and it left you with a smile on your face. You wriggled your legs and toes underneath the sheets and stretched your arms.

You realised the bed was empty, but when you peeled an eye open it was obvious Harry had slept on his side at some point. You sat up to an empty room. There was no sign of Harry, again.

You didn’t know much about Harry’s daily routine but you would put money on him being an early morning runner. You shivered at the thought.

He appeared whilst you were in the middle of your second round of toast. It was the only thing you could think to try and stomach after yesterday’s disaster. Harry was in regular clothes, not running attire. You owed yourself a fiver.

“Ah,” he paused at the sight of you eating toast, and limply lifted his hand. The same greasy brown paper bag rustled in his grip.

“Don’t be shy.” You patted the table after swallowing your mouthful. “I’ll still eat it.”

“You’re that hungry?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what happens when you’re forced to empty your entire stomach contents.”

His nose wrinkled. “Right.”

You took a sip of coffee while he made himself comfortable in the seat opposite you. 

“How do you feel?”

“Well, I slept the night through and didn’t hit my head this morning which is a major improvement on yesterday.”

“That’s something. Do you feel right enough to go out?”

“If I weren’t on holiday I’d be right back to work, Harry. No rest for the wicked and all.”

“Is that a yes, then?” He cocked a brow.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Okay. I was gonna go down to the lake… it’s really warm out.”

“Are you telling me, or is that an invitation?”

He picked his pastry apart. “Both? I don’t know, it might do you some good.”

Concern? From your nemesis? This was bad. “Oh, don’t go coy on me, Harry. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Knew I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“That’s more like it.”

His mouth lifted at the corner for the shortest fraction of a second.

“Is it pebbly or sandy?”

An olive branch.

“Both?”

The worst kind of lake beach, then. “The type that calls for a special type of shoe.”

He grimaced. “I know.”

“It’s fine. We make do.” You pronounced, and stood from the table with your dirty things. “Give me 20 minutes and we’ll go.”

~

“That alright?”

You peered up at the man blocking the sun with a pinched look. He stood before you in a faded white t-shirt and board shorts, holding an ice cream cone with a single chocolate scoop on top.

“As long as it’s the right cone, it’s perfect.”

“I double checked.” He promised as he handed it to you, and then sat with his own.

This was day four on the beach by the lake. While you and Harry spent the time there together, you did your own thing. He spent most of his time in the water like a fucking fish, and you spent yours on a towel with a book and enough food to feed the 5,000.

You’d found a tolerable medium with Harry. In the day you gave each other your needed space, and at night time you tried not to touch each other in bed. Or smother each other. So far it had worked well.

You hadn’t seen Holly or your brother since that night at dinner. They’d actually been visiting for a relative’s birthday party and had already gone home, leaving you and Harry to suffer together.

“I think you’re running low on your special bread.”

You snorted and covered your mouth. ‘Special bread’ made you sound like some kind of escaped lunatic.

“I don’t know why I said it like that.” Harry shook his head. “But the fact remains.”

“We’re running low on a lot.”

“Maybe we should go shopping.”

You groaned. This is what your life had come to: grocery shopping with a celebrity.

“I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

“Where even is the nearest supermarket?”

“I don’t know - I went shopping on the way here.”

“So did I.”

Has there ever been a more ridiculous conversation?

Harry found his phone and checked for signal, soon letting out a soft sigh. “Five weeks without WiFi was a stupid idea.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

You decided to check a map on the notice board outside the public toilets on the lake site and decided there must be a supermarket in the nearest town. Harry drove you out into the Scottish countryside following his sat-nav’s directions to the closest town.

It was a little odd being in the same car as him. While your brother’s work relationship and subsequent marriage had brought him into your life for many a family gathering, you’d never found yourself in quite such a confined space as this. Apart from the bed situation. You were certain he was being quiet on your behalf, because silence was better than small talk. The decision to go shopping had proven that much.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered the second you entered the supermarket.

You followed his nervous gaze to a man with a camera doing a shitty job at hiding. “Go back to the car if you want to.”

“Hardly fair.”

“Being uncomfortable isn’t fair.” You insisted. “Go take a drive and be back here in half an hour. I don’t mind.”

He sighed and handed you the list you’d prepared before leaving. “I’ll be back.”

“Yes, please don’t use this opportunity to abandon me here.”

He smirked. “Don’t put ideas in my head.” He took his wallet out of his pocket and handed you his card. “Use that.”

You frowned at it, and then him in turn. “I don’t mind paying for it.”

“Pay with my card and then send me half when you find signal or internet or whatever.” He turned away, but threw, “Half an hour,” over his shoulder.

You had to take a moment to collect yourself. Now you weren’t grocery shopping with a celebrity, you were using one’s credit card.

Before you started your shopping, you had one more thing you had to do. Stalking the man who was stalking your reluctant companion was easy because he didn’t try very hard to be subtle. You tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around with a bewildered look on his face. “Yes?”

“Delete them.”

~

True to his word, Harry returned half an hour later with a confusing smile. “Guess what I found.”

You let him take the bags out of your hands to shove them in the boot of his car. “What?”

“A fucking Costa.”

“No way…”

“Yes way.” He grinned.

“Where?”

“Literally around the corner.” He thumbed in that general direction. “I got two ‘cause I didn’t know which one you liked.”

“As long as it’s got coffee in it, I’ll consume it.”

Sure enough, two starkly different iced coffees sat in the cup holders in his central console. 

“Which one do you want?” You asked. He did buy them after all.

“I don’t mind. You choose.”

“Please pick one.”

“No.”

“Harry.”

“Fine.” He plucked one at random and started drinking as he pulled off. “Happy?”

“Yes. Thank you.” And you meant it, too.

Silence settled between you again as you slurped away at your coffee. It was comfortable this time. You put the window down and stuck your arm out to feel the breeze through your fingers.

“Do you ever wonder how we got so…”

You looked over at him with a curious expression, but he never finished his sentence. “What?”

Harry shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Oh, come on, Harry.” You poked his arm. “You’ve never been one to mince your words in front of me before. Don’t start now.”

His lips twitched with a smile, but it was quickly replaced by something else. A kind of sad contemplation. “I don’t want to ruin a rare nice day.”

Now you were the one struggling to find words. Animosity was just the default practice for you and Harry when you were around each other. After so many years of battling over often ridiculous things, he was right. This was a rare nice day. You hadn’t argued once. Come to think of it, you hadn’t argued at all since the day you were sick. That little spat on the hill was the last one.

But curiosity ate away at you. What was he going to say that had the potential to ruin your good time? Knowing Harry, it could be any number of things.

“I promise I won’t lose my shit if you tell me.”

His face lit up with amusement, but he never laughed. “Shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Right there, in that single moment, you were reminded just why the world had an obsession with the man sitting beside you. Even in the blandest setting, Harry Styles looked like the man who would promise you everything you’ve ever wanted and be able to deliver it to you. The man who held enough charisma both on and off stage for a hundred other men. The man with pretty eyes and pretty pink lips. The man who looked damn good whether he was clean-shaven or harbouring two weeks of scruff like he was now. The man who would spoil you to no end, who would give you a life of comfort and stability, who would drop everything at a second’s notice to be yours. Fuck, he looked like the man who might even die for you.

You’d seen Harry in love and the man gave his whole fucking heart and soul to the person he was with. His inherent attractiveness was just a bonus.

“Tell me, please.” You tried again.

He considered it for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. Eventually he sighed, “Do you ever wonder how things managed to get so bad? Between us?”

Ah.

A loaded question, indeed.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

He glanced your way, jaw suddenly tense. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t tend to wonder about it because I haven’t forgotten at all how we did.”

“Walk me through it.”

“Are you sure you want that?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from the most honest woman I know.”

You were biding your time, mulling over your response. Perhaps this would ruin your nice day, but this was the most open conversation the two of you were ever going to have. Not talking about it would be both a missed opportunity and a disservice to yourself.

“Okay. You’re not going to like it, though.”

“I didn’t expect to.”

You took a deep breath. “The first time I met you didn’t go at all how I expected it to. In hindsight I guess, to you, I would’ve just been a footnote. Your friends have other friends you probably meet all the time and I was just one of the next hundred. Holly and my brother had only just started dating, but Holly and I got on so well we started doing things together as friends without him. She invited me to lunch with… you know, the usual suspects.”

He nodded once, slowly. The usual suspects he wasn’t speaking to anymore for various different reasons. You didn’t keep tabs on Harry’s life by choice, but Holly and the internet provided more about it than you cared for.

“Maybe you were just young. Or maybe there was something different that I just missed or didn’t understand, but you weren’t at all like I expected you to be. Everyone - my brother, Holly, my parents -, everyone said you were amazing. ‘The nicest boy you’ll ever meet’. And sure, you were nice. Charming, even. And you had everyone’s undivided attention, including Holly’s. And mine. But Holly’s more so.

“That girl loves you. And I watched her love you up close and personal and it was amazing and beautiful and I really wanted her to give just even a portion of that love to my brother. And she did, but it didn’t come without a fight.

“I didn’t care that you spent most of that lunch ignoring everyone else at the table. Or maybe I did. I just knew that you only cared about Holly’s undivided attention and she had no quarrels giving it to you. There was a time I thought you might be secretly in love with each other,” you laughed at the reminder because it seemed stupid now, “but when I brought it up with her she laughed so hard she cried and then pretended to vomit.”

“Damn,” Harry produced an offended laugh. “Didn’t know I was that repulsive.”

“Anyway, it didn’t stop her from loving you. Never has. Soon after, I spent a week with her and my brother in Spain on some all-inclusive thing. Before you ask, I was forced to go. Being a third-wheel is absolutely not my style.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think it sounded like you.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Anyway, I watched Holly send constant photos, messages, gifs, any and all digital media to you while we were on that holiday, cataloguing the entire thing. I don’t think you realise how many times I heard oh Harry’s gonna love this. But what got me is you never replying to her. Not once. Her phone screen was just a sea of blue messages against a backdrop of silence. At one point I considered she’d got the wrong number, but then you texted her the day we left with something really dull and generic and I really wanted to hit you.”

“I don’t remember this at all.” He admitted, face paled.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re a busy man. I reminded myself of that a lot to start off with, but the whole thing became a recurring pattern. Maybe you think I’m stupid and it’s a bit of an overreaction for it, but I’m quite observant when I want to be. You’re Holly’s best friend, even if she’s not yours. Every time she says it, it’s like she’s been given the greatest gift in the entire world. And she’s such a bright, incredible person. She’s my best friend. Not just because she’s married to my brother, but because she’s the best person I’ve ever met and nothing will ever change that.

“Over the years I’ve watched countless messages and phone calls from her to you go unanswered, seen her face turn down with sadness when you don’t call her back or text out a reply. She deserves more than that. 

“I’ve noticed you do it to my brother, too. I know he works for you so maybe it’s not the same, but it’s safe to say that in their house, Harry Styles isn’t a name that lights up their phone screens very often. Ever.”

Harry fidgeted a little and cleared his throat. “All this time I thought I’d done something to you.”

“No. Worse. You continually managed to upset my best friend, even if you didn’t know it, and in turn you upset me.”

“Then I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologise to, Harry. She’ll never admit that she’s hurt by your silence because she doesn’t want to lose you. This is why we’re so very different. I don’t hang around for people who don’t appreciate the good they have in their life. I’m a good person, and Holly is an even better one. She deserves more than your attention when she’s only sat in front of you.”

“You’re right. I’m an idiot.”

“Yes you are.”

His lips twitched again. “The next time I’m in the village with signal I’ll call her. Promise.”

“Don’t promise me. Promise yourself, and her. One day she might snap and decide she doesn’t want to wait for months at a time to hear from you. Because hearing about you through my brother doesn’t count.”

“I know. I get it, I really do…”

“Good. Now, my turn.” You let out a long breath and turned in your seat. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you-,”

“You called me both insufferable and intolerable in the space of five minutes when I got here.”

“Let me finish.” He said, exasperated. “I don’t hate you, I’m scared of you.”

“Calling someone intolerable because you’re scared of them doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, let’s put it this way. While perhaps you were right, at first I thought you were just another friend of a friend who’d made an appearance for uncertain reasons, it became apparent very quickly that you weren’t going anywhere. It also became very apparent that you were not my biggest fan. That first lunch was one of a kind because you barely said a word. Every other time after that, which I now realise happened to be family-oriented, you hardly shut up.

“I’ve always noticed it. You command the attention of everyone in the room. You’re a storyteller. You could turn an anecdote about a trip to the petrol station into a fairytale. You give everyone in the room your undivided attention, and when I realised you never gave it to me, well… safe to say I was wounded. Holly talked you up to high heaven. Your brother loves you. My own mother loves you even though we don’t get on.

“There’s something about you. And the fact that the only attention you ever gave me was a dirty look or a snippy remark made me petty. So I started giving it back, and I think the more I did it, the more I lost sight of the kind of person you actually are, because I only focused on the side you showed to me.”

He turned into the driveway of the cabin, and you thought he was done. But when the engine shut off, he said one last thing.

“In one of your many little outbursts you said I’ve got a severe case of oosoom syndrome. I never bothered to look it up because I didn’t want to know what kind of idiot you thought I was, but it’s just clicked.”

“Out of sight, out of mind.”

He nodded and turned to you with a calm gaze. “I get it now.” He wasn’t just talking about the idiom.

“Good.”

~

The rain was back and heavier than ever. The ground surrounding the cabin was a swamp, the hill that led down to the village was indiscernible thanks to the downpour, and the day was dark and moody. Inside the cabin it was muggy and humid and you felt ridiculous sitting at the dining table in a vest and denim shorts, but you were.

Harry sitting opposite you looked more rugged than usual. His hair was pulled back with a clip, his stubble was shifting into a beard and his clothes were wrinkled.

“Hmm…” He gave an obnoxious tap on his chin.

You rolled your eyes and sunk into the seat. “Just put me out of my misery and show me your cards.”

He laughed, peering at you with a lightness in his eyes that was so unfamiliar it almost had you shell shocked. “Fine.” He placed his hand on the table showcasing his win.

It was day three of this charade. It hadn’t stopped raining and all you’d done was cycle between card games and Monopoly. He always won. You were so fed up of him winning that this was the last straw.

You stood and swiped his hand off the table so that they landed in a flurry on the wooden cabin floor. 

“Hey…” he pouted.

“That was childish of me, I’m sorry.” You groaned, and crouched down to pick them up. “I’m so bored, Harry. I think I’m going mad. We don’t even have a TV. We’re in the middle of nowhere with a pack of cards missing the Ace of Spades and Queen of Hearts and an old beat up Monopoly box with half the properties missing.”

He blinked at me. “I know this. I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Sorry.” You muttered. “When I’m frustrated I just state the obvious.”

“But I thought that was my job.”

You rolled your head back and sighed at the ceiling. “I need to do something. Anything. I don’t want to sit in here anymore. I need air.”

“It’s pissing it down.”

“I’m aware. You have a car… just humour me for a bit. An hour tops.”

“You want me to drive you around for an hour? In a smaller space than we’re already in?”

“Okay, fine,” you sat back down in your chair and attempted to plead with the normal side of him, the non-celebrity side, “what if… when me and my brother were little and we went away with Mum and Dad, if the weather was crap like this we’d get in the car and drive to the nearest supermarket. And we’d have lunch in the cafe and then do a bit of shopping and then come back. And we’d all get one thing to bide the time before the weather got better again. Why don’t we do that?”

A smile was forming on his lips. “You want to try shopping with me again?”

“That prick and his fancy camera won’t be going back there, trust me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why, what did you do?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” You patted his hand. “Please, Harry. Rescue me from insanity.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

“Yay!” You stood and clapped your hands together. “I’m gonna change.”

Half an hour later you were back at the supermarket in the town over and ready to find as much new entertainment as possible.

“Do you think we should buy them a TV?” Harry contemplated aloud as he stood in front of a large flatscreen.

You gave him a scrutinous look. “And put it where?”

“Good point.” He sighed. “We’re missing Love Island.”

You barked a laugh and carried it down the aisle with you. “That is not what I expected you to mourn over.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

You found your way to the games and books. “Can we get a jigsaw puzzle?”

“Why are you asking me? Get whatever you want, mate.”

You perused the options with as much interest as a car fanatic in a vintage car garage. “Farmyard or harbour? Or circus? Or mountains?”

“Whichever will keep you occupied for the longest.” He said absently, moving down the aisle to the board games.

The circus one had the most pieces and highest level of difficulty, so you plucked the box off the shelf and followed after him. “Have they got the Game of Life?”

He started laughing but never answered you.

“Oh,” you pouted, tapping the spin-off version that was much shorter and way less entertaining.

“Bop-It?” 

“When I was little I completed that.”

He raised a brow at you. “Can you even complete Bop-It?”

“Yes,” you snatched the box off the shelf, “and I will prove it to you when we get back.”

“We’ll see about that.” He whispered, smirking. “We need an actual board game.”

You gazed over the options with the same level of interest as the jigsaws. “You choose. I’ve picked the last two.”

“Absolutely not, I’ll only pick wrong.”

“What’s your favourite?”

“Cluedo.”

“Then get Cluedo.” You pointed at it and walked away.

Two hours later and three books heavier you were back at the cabin and starting your jigsaw puzzle. You and Harry sat on your claimed sides of the table, box lid propped against the window and a selection of snacks between you.

“Where the fuck is the fourth corner?” You grumbled, digging through the box like a cat in a litter tray.

Harry glanced at the box lid, then at the jumbled selection of tiles, and plucked it out without hesitation. “There y’go.”

You blinked at him. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” You pinched it from him and placed it in the relevant corner. “Thank you.”

“A compliment and gratitude? It is a good day.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m not very good at the splits.”

That made you laugh, right from the back of your throat. “Have you tried?”

“Many times.”

“For what purpose?”

“I had a thing for my yoga instructor once and she was convinced I could do it so I kept trying just to impress her.”

“My God, you are a sap.”

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“It’s nice to know you failed at something for such a pitiful reason.”

He gave you such a megawatt smile you had to look away. “I’m just like any other boy.”

“I can’t believe you had to try hard to impress anyone. It almost doesn’t seem natural.”

“You make me sound like a robot.”

“I don’t think you’re a robot. I just think sometimes things seem to come a little too easily to you. Skills. Work. Friends. Women. Probably men, too. Some of us have to try really hard to get those things.”

“You have friends. A good job. And I refuse to believe people aren’t interested in you… romantically.”

You lifted a brow at him. “Refuse?”

“Are they not?”

“Have you ever known me to be ‘romantically’ involved with anyone?”

“Yeah, that lad you took to your brother’s wedding.”

Colin.

“He’s gay.”

“Oh.” He scratched his nose. “I wondered why he kept eyeing up one of the groomsmen. Your cousin?”

“Also gay.”

“Have you never had a boyfriend?”

“Not since school, no.”

“Have you… are you… you know?”

You gave him another raised brow. “You’re not seriously asking me that.”

He rubbed his hands down his face and groaned. “I’m sorry. Ignore me.”

“Just because I haven’t had relationships, doesn’t mean I’m a virgin, Harry.”

The tips of his ears turned pink. “I think we’ve gone a bit off track here.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

He slotted a piece into place next to one of the corners. You slotted another one in after that. The pattern repeated itself, in silence, for the next twenty minutes.

“When do you go to your AirBnB?”

You met his gaze with a calm expression. “Six days. Five nights.”

“Okay.” He said as he stood. “Are you hungry enough for dinner yet?”

“If you are, we can eat.”

He gave a stiff nod. “Okay.”

~~~

Part 2

Talk to me?

[harrrystyles-writing]

Yes, Sir! —Capítulo 1

Personagens: Professor! Harry x Estudante!Aurora. (Aurora tem 23 anos e Harry tem 35)

Sinopse: Aurora é uma jovem estudiosa, considerada uma das melhores alunas de sua faculdade, o orgulho de sua família, porém se sente constantemente presa em sua vida perfeita. Harry Styles tem tudo o que um homem de sua idade deseja, uma esposa e dois filhos, uma enorme casa no subúrbio e um emprego estável, entretanto não é o suficiente para sentir-se satisfeito.Mas o que eles nunca poderiam imaginar era que suas vidas se cruzariam e em apenas uma noite fugindo de seus problemas mudaria todo o rumo de suas histórias.

NotaAutora:Estou muito feliz começando mais uma fic, adoraria saber suas opiniões depois.

Aviso: Os capítulos serão divididos nos dois pontos de vista, que serão sinalizados com os nomes para identificar o início do pov.

Aurora

"Mais um por favor." Pedi animadamente ao barman.

O homem bonito lançou um sorriso me entregando mais um daqueles drinks coloridos que adorava tomar.

Era o fim de semana antes do início das aulas, eu não podia acreditar que estava bebendo tanto para quem teria a introdução de seu último ano na faculdade de direito logo pela segunda de manhã. Mas isso realmente não importa agora, eu estou solteira, tendo uma ótima noite com seus amigos, o que seriamente era raro para uma garota tão certinha como tenho que ser, então não me arrependo nem por um segundo desde que entrei por aquela porta do bar. Era só pouco de diversão antes de voltar a ser a aluna exemplar que todos ao redor invejavam e meus pais gabavam-se tanto. Decidi que esta seria minha noite de fulga, usando um vestido vermelho apertado, botas prestas de cano alto, uma jaqueta de couro e batom vermelho como vinho, que qualquer um que me conhecesse bem saberia que nunca consideraria usar algo do tipo, o que o tornou a roupa perfeita, a única coisa com que estava em minha mente era se divertir e esquecer o mundo real, mesmo que seja apenas por uma noite.

Harry

Eu estava tomando uma cerveja em uma mesa qualquer do bar, observando o movimento enorme de universitários, com atenção, talvez guardando alguns rostos para verificar quando fizer minha palestra logo na segunda de manhã.

Eu era o novo professor de Ética Profissional em Direito em Harvad, aceitar esse emprego foi certamente uma decisão difícil, a faculdade era em Boston, uns 20 minutos da cidade onde moro, porém, oportunidade de lecionar numa das melhores faculdades do país valeria esse risco. Ou talvez eu só quisesse fugir um pouco da minha vida pacata em minha cidade natal.

Aurora

A noite definitivamente não poderia estar melhor, com alguns drinks meu sorriso já era mais largo, eu estava no meio de uma conversa com Lily, minha melhor amiga e colega de quarto, quando notei uma presença um pouco atrás de mim, então me virei para encontrar o olhar malicioso do estranho enquanto ele me examinava.

"Oi, posso ajudá-lo?" Perguntei educadamente.

" O que uma coisinha bonita como você está fazendo sozinha?"

"Eu não estou sozinha, se não estava vendo, eu estou com meus amigos." Eu juro que tentei não ser grosseira.

"Estou falando de um homem, para ter você essa noite bebê."

"Desculpe?" Me ofendi. "Eu estou bem sozinha, obrigado."

"Não seja tímida, vem aqui." Ele tentou me beijar.

Eu nunca me incomodei quando os homens se aproximavam para flertar, mas o este homem passou dos limites.

"Me solta." Gritei

"Ei, sai de perto dela." Uma voz rouca soou bem atrás de mim, me puxando para perto.

"Quem é você?" Ele pareceu bem irritado.

"Eu sou o namorado dela." O homem alto de olhos verdes respondeu. "Agora dê o fora." Seu olhar era frio, mas sua voz era controlada e calma.

Eu estava congelada em seus braços.

Harry

Os cabelos ruivos dela certamente me chamaram atenção, desde que a vi entrando no bar foi difícil tirar os olhos dela, sua pele pálida, as sardinhas que mesmo com a maquiagem não desapareceu, o sorriso encantador com os lábios pintados de vermelho. Ela era uma estudante, estava escrito em sua testa e atitudes que provavelmente eu tive nos meus 20 anos.

Eu precisava falar com ela, um olá, talvez, era bem improvável que ela fosse minha aula, não com aquela roupa, aulas de direito são sempre tão certinhas e caretas, ela provavelmente estudava música ou artes. A confiança em mim estava crescendo para ir lá, foi quando observei duas mãos grandes deslizam até sua cintura, apertando.

Merda! Ela tinha namorado.

Até iria desviar o olhar, porém não consegui e que bom que não fiz, pois ela estava em apuros.

"Ei, sai de perto dela." Corri até a ruiva a puxando para longe do homem.

"Quem é você?" Ele teve audácia de perguntar.

"Eu sou o namorado dela." Menti. "Agora dê o fora."

Ela me olhava confusa.

"Obrigado." Disse ainda estaziada.

"Você está bem?"

"Sim, eu, sim, obrigado."

"Fico feliz." Sorri. "Eu sou o Harry." Estendi minha mão.

Aurora

Harry... Que nome lindo.

"Eu sou Aurora." Respondi, tentando não corar.

Ele era mais velho, talvez uns 30 e poucos, pelos cabelos começando a ficar um pouco grisalho nas laterais de seu rosto, dava para notar sua maturidade que não combinava com esse local.

"É um prazer conhecê-la, o que você está fazendo aqui esta noite?"

"Aproveitando meu último final de semana antes de começar minhas aulas."

"Universitária, então! Legal."

"Sim." Solto uma risada. "Mas o que um cara como você está fazendo em um lugar como este?"

"Um cara como eu?"

"Sim! Esse é um bar de universidade e você não me parece um calouro, não vestido assim." Arquiei uma sobrancelha, sorrindo para ele.

"O que tem de errado com minha roupa?"

"Suéter não é exatamente uma vestimenta normal para o bar da faculdade."

"Me pegou." Riu movendo-se desajeitadamente um pouco mais perto. "Eu sou novo aqui e me pareceu um bar bem animado e interessante para conhecer pessoas novas."

"Acho que veio ao lugar certo."

"Bem, é melhor eu deixar você voltar para seus amigos" Disse não tentando ser inconveniente.

"Na verdade, posso te pagar uma bebida?" Pergunto a ele. "Para agradecer."

"Claro." Um pequeno sorriso se formou em seus lábios.

Harry

Sentado à mesa que estava mais cedo, eu a vi se aproximar com duas canecas de cervejas enormes.

"Acho que vai gostar, te vi bebendo mais cedo." Ela sorriu.

Aurora também me observou?

"Obrigada."

Meia hora depois eu já estava sentindo os efeitos da bebida, mas como era bom conversar com ela, Aurora decidiu que não queria falar de faculdade ou trabalho, muito menos família, eu prontamente aceitei, tudo para ter um pouco mais dela. Conversarmos sobre nossos gostos para música o que era bem diferente, filmes, ela era apaixonada por filmes antigos como eu, sobre viajar pelo mundo, o que ela sonha em fazer um dia, eu lhe contei das minhas viagens e pude ver seus olhos brilharem através de meus óculos. Antes que eu percebasse, já havia se passado uma hora só conversando com a tal Aurora, o relógio marcava um pouco mais da meia-noite.

"Está tarde." Comentei. "Seus amigos devem estar querendo você de volta."

"Eles não precisam tanto de mim assim." Ela riu.

"Então você gostou de ficar à noite conversando com um cara mais velho ao invés de seus amigos?" Levantei a sobrancelha. "Suponho que você goste de homens mais velhos?"

"Depende, se eles se parecem com você, com certeza." Ela respondeu sem rodeios.

Eu estava corado.

"Eu estou um pouco sem prática nisso, mas, eu poderia ter o seu número?" Entreguei meu telefone timidamente.

E completamente sem jeito.

"Sim."Respondeu com um sorriso.

"Aurora." Uma garota baixinha gritou do outro lado do bar.

"É melhor ir." Ela comentou com à voz tristonha. "Mas foi ótimo conhecê-lo."

"Foi bom conhecer você também." Disse ao vê-la se levantar. "Ei, espere!" Levantei-me indo até ela.

"Você precisa de uma carona?"

"Nós estamos meio alcoolizados para isso."

"Talvez dividir um uber?" Observei sua feição confusa. "Só não quero que esta noite acabe ainda."

"Claro, sim."

7 minutos depois o carro chegou no bar, o caminho até o apartamento onde ela morava não era longe, mas nos deu mais alguns minutos para se divertirmos fazendo piadas idiotas e rindo um do outro, de repente, o carro parou chamou a atenção.

"Chegamos." O motorista anunciou.

"Se importa se eu te desejar um boa noite?" Perguntei fixado em seus lábios vermelhos.

"Sim, quero dizer não." Ela estava corada, atrapalhando-se em suas palavras." Quero dizer que eu não me importo."

Então segurei delicamente suas bochechas juntando nossos lábios, fazia um longo tempo que eu não era beijado assim, um beijo provocante, tantas emoções, o som de seu gemido abafado, seu corpo pedindo por mais, ela era tão boa nisso.

"Boa noite, Harry." Ela sorriu ao afastar-se abrindo a porta.

"Boa noite."

Aurora

Segunda-feira de manhã, meu primeiro dia de aula e eu estava correndo pelo campus por estar atrasada, ótimo. Obviamente dormi demais no dia anterior pela ressaca, o que me fez atrasar todo planejamento para início das aulas. Eu tinha minhas mãos cheia de livros e uma bolsa pesada no ombro quando rapidamente abri a porta da sala tentando não ser notada, decendo alguns degraus na fileira do meio, onde vi minha amiga, sentei no assento vazio do lado.

"Está atrasada." Lily comentou, como se não fosse óbvio.

"Perdi muita coisa?"

"Não, o professor novo só está se apresentando."

E então quando eu finalmente olhei para frente, minha respiração falhou, de pé na frente da sala de aula estava Harry.

"Amiga, esse não é aquele cara com quem você estava no bar sábado à noite?" Ela cutucou meu braço.

"Sim."

Olhei meus horários conferindo se eu estava realmente na sala certa e do lado do horário da aula e sala estava escrito "Mr.Styles."

Porquê eu não perguntei seu sobrenome naquela noite.

Tentando assimilar a informação, suspirei fundo, para me acalmar, talvez eu pudesse sair de fininho ou ele nem se lembraria mais de mim, mas só piorou quando os olhos dele se encontram com os meus e sua reação foi exatamente como a minha.

"Droga! Eu estava ferrada."

E aí o que achou desse primeiro capítulo?

Esta ansiosa (o) para o próximo?

Me conta aqui nos comentários !!!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter f i v e

December 23, 2011

Harry knew he hadn’t been great at keeping in touch.

He knew his friends were probably annoyed and he knew that he deserved it, but he also knew that inviting them to a concert, giving them backstage passes, and then bringing tons of alcohol to Adam’s party was a pretty good bet to get them back on his good side.

So as confident as Harry felt about his attempt to right his previous wrongs, he found himself with a knot in his stomach when he walked into the green room that night and saw them.

Adam and Jake were always happy to see him, they seemed less bothered by Harry’s new fame and how it shifted the dynamic of their friend group. They hugged him excitedly and only made a few jokes about the outfit he’d been forced to wear.

“You look like a Barbie doll,” Jake stifled a laugh, clapping Harry on the back with force.

“A stylish Barbie doll,” Jessie tried to soften the blow.

“I know,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Look--I don’t always get to pick everything I wear, alright?”

“We’re just glad to see you,” Bryn smiled. “Barbie Blazer and all.”

Harry ignored their jabs easily and pulled them all in for hugs, and then, Smalls.

“Hi Smalls,” he smiled down at her, hands on her shoulders when a smirk tugged at his lips. “Have you grown?”

“Oh piss off,” she laughed, shrugging away from his touch. “An inch or so since the last time you came home probably. Which was...what, a hundred years ago?”

Ouch--Harry pulled a face before he rolled his eyes, quick to let the insult roll off his back. He was getting used to it, slowly but surely, yet for some reason it always cut a little deeper when it came from her.

“Alright, alright,” Harry didn’t feel like spending too much time on the elephant in the room: his newfound career in the limelight seemed to put a wedge between him and his hometown friends. “I’m the worst friend ever, I know. You guys remember the boys, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jessie said with a casual shrug of her shoulder, a flirty smile in the direction of his bandmates had Harry making a mental note: check in on that later.

Jake rounded the corner of the sofa and sat down, offered a wave to Liam when Adam and Niall embraced.

It made Harry happy to see his old friends and his new friends spending time together, minus the shouting that insured when Louis and Jake got too heated about a recent football match or when Adam seemed to dominate everyone in table tennis. So when Jake and Adam headed that way, he turned to Smalls and realized someone was missing.

“Smalls, your sister isn’t here?”

She looked up at him with a hint of pink on her cheeks, “oh, no--my mum wasn’t too keen on the idea of me bringing a thirteen-year-old into Manchester and back, I guess.”

“No?” He smirked. “Can’t imagine why.”

Harry had always loved teasing her--something about the way her eyelids fluttered in annoyance or the way she seemed to blush at the slightest of comments made his smile stretch across his face.

He’d always had a soft spot for her, less boisterous than Jessie and much less of a know-it-all than Bryn. She could give Harry shit when he deserved it but she was also the one who listened and cared and had a laugh that Harry missed more than he expected when he moved to London.

Which is why, Harry thought, he found himself more intrigued by the girl who sat behind him in Chemistry. Afterall, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Now, in the green room, she gave exactly the reaction Harry had wanted when she crossed her arms and stifled a frustrated laugh. “Alright, shut it.”

“Are we giving Y/N shit about the time she lost Katie?” Bryn perked up as she watched Adam bounce the ball beneath his paddle.

“I cannot believe I missed that,” Harry smiled.

“Better get used to it, H, you’re missing a lot these days,” she shot back with an antagonising grin.

Y/N, he’d noticed, also seemed to be the least impressed by his fame, the most annoyed by his departure, and he couldn't help but wonder why she seemed absolutely displeased when he told them all that he’d lost his virginity.

Now when he made trips home or met up with the gang, Harry realized there was something about Y/N that felt different. Something pulled him in and simultaneously pushed him out, maybe it was the way she’d smile up at him and then embarrass him five seconds later.

Whatever it was, Harry felt it that night in the green room and again in Adam’s basement when he listened to Mollie Amsbury drone on about school. He made awkward eye contact with Y/N a few times across the room--she was standing in a corner with Zach Bramhall and then eventually Bryn, but apparently she couldn’t read his mind and didn’t know the way he was looking at her was a silent cry for help.

Mollie was nice--more popular than Harry had been in school--but with two mixed drinks in her, she seemed keen to keep telling him all about their teachers from Year 9 and who in their class was now sleeping with who.

Harry didn’t really give a shit. Harry was more interested in spending time with his own friends and laughing at their stupid jokes about their teachers and their accounts of the school’s drama. Maybe his tolerance for Mollie was lowered with each sip he took of his drink, but at this point, he just needed a way out.

Niall was playing flip cup with a group of boys on the far side of the basement, Liam was too busy talking to Kayla Kirkendahl to even notice that Harry was practically drowning.

Luckily, Jessie walked by him as she headed for the stairs up to the kitchen, he grabbed her wrist and made a pleading face. “Jessie--you said you had to show me something, right?”

Mollie stopped in the middle of her sentence and looked to Jessie, who nodded despite looking confused.

“Right…”

“Great, okay--sorry, Mollie, we’ll catch up later, yeah?”

Harry tugged Jessie away as Mollie nodded, a huff of exhaustion when Jessie looked him up and down.

“Y’alright, champ?”

He shook his head, “she’s sweet, but she’s brutal. Doesn’t shut up--I swear, she can talk to herself for hours.”

Jessie let out an intoxicated giggled as they wove through their peers. “You say this to another girl who can talk to herself for hours.”

“You’re different,” Harry shrugged it off, climbing the stairs with her in tow.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can tell you to shut up.”

Jessie knew it was true and accepted his answer, though she couldn’t help but wonder if Harry’d ever found her to be as annoying as Mollie.

She knew she was loud, knew she had a penchant for keeping conversations alive. Her mom always said she’d make a great lawyer, but at 17, Jessie was starting to wonder if that was just as much of an insult as it was a compliment.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as they found Bryn and Y/N blocking their entrance to the kitchen on the landing of the stairs.

“Hi,” Harry looked up at them.

Y/N was frozen, her lips parted like she’d seen a ghost. “Hi, I--uh, I’m gonna get some air,” she nodded at Bryn and then headed for the front door.

Harry felt his eyebrows dip. “She alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s grand,” Bryn laughed and dismissed Harry’s question. He chalked her word choice up to the liquor in her cup.

“Mollie’s already being annoying,” Jessie told Bryn as they all made their way over to the kitchen counter. The bottles of booze that Harry brought were neatly lined up, and based on the levels inside, everyone in Holmes Chapel preferred vodka over gin.

“Could have called that one,” Bryn rolled her eyes and poured more into her cup.

Adam showed up and stuck his head between Harry’s and Jessie’s. “Can someone help me nicely tell Zach and Emma to stop dry humping on my mom’s fridge?”

“I will happily tell them to piss off,” Bryn lifted her cup and followed him over.

Harry checked his phone as Jessie poured another drink. The contents splashed up over the edges and she laughed when she used a pot holder to wipe up the spill. She took a big gulp and grimaced.

“Maybe have some water?” Harry suggested, his nose scrunched at the look on her face.

“I will, I will--where do you think Adam has a phone cord? M’almost dead.” She picked her phone out of her pocket and showed Harry the battery.

“Somewhere underneath the pile of clothes on bean bag chair, m’sure,” Harry said.

“Alright, come,” Jessie tugged his arm and made her way into the living room, down the hall, and pushed open the second door on the right.

Adam’s room was a deep blue, posters lined the wall and just as Harry suspected, the ever-steady pile of clothes was present on the bean bag chair in the corner. He flicked on the light switch and the door latched behind Jessie.

“Not to sound like Bryn--but when did he clean this place last?”

“Probably last year,” Harry laughed. “Or the year before.”

Jessie walked over to his bed and pushed some coats aside, flopping back on the mattress with a sigh.

“Show was good,” she said.

“Thanks,” Harry wandered over to the window that overlooked Adam’s street. Y/N and Jake were outside, the cherry of a cigarette visible through the dark as a cloud of smoke floated over their heads. “This might be a weird question, but--there’s not something going on between Y/N and Jake, right?”

“Y/N and Jake?” Jessie let out a sharp laugh, “no fucking way. She’s kind of seeing Nolan Truscott I think.”

For some reason this answer didn’t make Harry feel any better.

“Oh.”

“Why?” she stared at the ceiling when Harry turned around and spotted Adam’s phone charger.

“Just curious--don’t you need this?” He held up the white chord and dangled it in the air between them.

Jessie picked her head up off the mattress and her eyes lit up. “Right!”

She hoisted herself up and came to fetch it, plugged it in behind Adam’s desk and then set her phone down. “Jesus--didn’t realize how loud it was out there.”

“You’re also drunk,” Harry laughed.

“You are too,” Jessie accused with a smirk.

Harry thought on it for a second, he was definitely feeling the effects of his third drink, but the sandwich he wolfed down before the show probably helped a bit.

“So Y/N and Nolan Truscott?”

Jessie rolled her eyes at his question, why did Harry care so much about who Y/N was talking to or seeing or anything of the sort?

Of course Jessie hoped her friend’s crush would materialize into something real--but at this point, Harry seemed distracted by other famous women and his rich neighbors in London. And besides, Y/N had made such a big deal about moving on that Jessie hoped she meant it. If only to avoid further disappointment when Harry inevitably met someone and had a lavish wedding that was written about in every tabloid on this side of the Atlantic.

Jessie looked up at him and wondered, for a second, what it was about him that everyone found to be so charming. His moppy-curls were a bit too long, his teenage growth spurt made him a bit awkward and lanky, and worst of all, she once saw him burp his way through the alphabet, though he only made it to M.

He was handsome, he was kind, but Jessie decided it was mostly the band and the song and the screaming girls that made him so appealing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Harry asked, suddenly aware of the way Jessie’s eyes had seemed to glaze over.

“M’not,” she shook her head. “Sorry, zoned out.”

She picked up her phone and laughed at a text she’d received. Harry wondered, for a second, how Jessie always managed to be the life of the party. Harry himself had been a bit of a class clown before he left school, but Jessie rivaled him like no other.

She was outgoing and energetic and, in his insecure moments, had the qualities Harry thought he lacked. At first being famous was fun, and on most days it still was. But now when he came home and had to dodge Mollie Amsbury, he sometimes wished he could fade back into anonymity, or at least channel Jessie’s ability to never get tired of talking or laughing or being the center of attention.

She put her phone down and looked back up at Harry, unaware he’d been watching her for the last few seconds.

Her eyes fluttered down to his lips and then she leaned in. Harry didn’t know how he felt about it at first--not the worst kiss he’d ever had but also not the best. Their bodies pressed together momentarily, Jessie felt stupid as soon as she felt his tongue swipe her bottom lip. He cupped a hand around her face but then pulled away.

Jessie’s eyes were wide, she let out a cough and said: “sorry--that was--”

“Weird,” Harry laughed.

Relief, Jessie sighed. “Fucking weird, I don’t know why I did that.”

Harry shook his head. “Drunk, things happen, but, uh-- we should”

“Never do that again,” Jessie nodded, trying not to laugh.

“Agreed,” he held out a pinky to lock with hers and smiled.

“Let’s never speak of it, either, yeah?” Jessie eyed him hopefully. “Just uh--would probably freak a few people out.”

Harry nodded, pretending like this never happened was probably best for everyone. Jake and Adam wouldn’t let him hear the end of it and Bryn and Y/N would have a thousand questions. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, I retroactively accept your suggestion of water,” she laughed.

They headed for the door and down the hall, coming face to face with Jake and Y/N as they came inside from the cold.

“Oh hi,” Jessie clutched a hand to her heart when they nearly bumped into them, “you scared me.”

Jake removed his arm from around Y/N’s shoulders when Harry asked: “Where were you two?”

“Just having a chat outside,” Y/N said before tossing the question back at Harry. “Where were you two?”

“Harry left his phone in Adam’s room,” Jessie said quickly. “Wanted to make sure no one got a hold of it.”

Jake let out a laugh, “too many celebrity tits on there?”

“Oh piss off,” Harry laughed, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“Alright,” Jessie waved them off, taking a step forward to link her arm with Y/N’s. “Need another drink?”

So much for water, Harry thought.

**

Y/N L/N (9:21pm): We’re long overdue for a facetime date, so look at your calendar and get back to me.

Y/N L/N (9:21pm): Also, just a heads up that Harry and I broke up. Not a big deal, doing alright so far. I can fill you in later!!

Your phone clicked shut as you let out a sigh, feet folded beneath you on your sofa. Carly was likely still at work due to the time difference, and in the 18 months since you’d worked for The Scoop, Carly had gotten two promotions, a cat, and a boyfriend. Needless to say, it took her much longer to reply to your texts now.

And you’d never really imagined a world in which you had to give friends and family a heads up about something so the media didn’t get to it first, but here you were, scrolling through your contacts and sorting everyone into two categories:

Can read it on Twitter or in The Sun, who really gives a shit?

Would absolutely, positively murder you within seconds if they found out via social media or newsstand headline

Carly fell in the second.

Curiosity had finally gotten the best of you after a frozen pizza had been your Tuesday night date. Besides, Jeffrey’s words had been echoing in your ears since he’d said them: people are starting to talk after those photos.

There wasn’t much, yet. A few tweets with speculations that things weren’t so peachy in paradise after you were seen leaving the club with a permanent frown on your face. Two articles in various magazines detailing your night out for a close friend’s birthday.

Another search of your name yielded no more results, just various pictures of the two of you over the last two years. The side of your head walking beside him into a hotel on his tour last summer, the two of you holding hands outside a swanky restaurant in New York before you moved.

The internet was an eternal treasure chest of memories, you’d learned. Some good, some bad--but nonetheless a time capsule you could always access after a glass of wine.

Your phone buzzed and you assumed it was Carly, but an unrecognized American number taunted you until you unlocked it.

(212)347-9090 (9:24pm): Hi Y/N! It’s Gigi! Totally random, but I’m still in town and had a last minute meeting get cancelled. I know it’s late so you can totally say no, but any chance you’d be interested in grabbing a drink somewhere? Happy to talk about the feature more, too!

You read it a few times, sure that it was Jake or Adam playing a stupid prank with a newly downloaded app from across the hall. You stood up off the couch, tossed a sweatshirt over your braless figure and went to pound on their door.

“Excuse me--I’m sorry to break up whatever dumb shit you’re up to in there, but can you please not target me with your stupidity on a weeknight?”

You heard footsteps before Adam tugged it open, his eyes narrowed he took in the sight of you.

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and walked by him, taking a seat at their kitchen table. Jake was stood in front of the microwave, hands on his hips when he looked at you.

“I got your stupid text--very funny.”

They both looked at each other.

“What are you talking about?”

You paused, surveyed both their faces to see if they’d crack under pressure.

“You mean to say that you’re not the ones pretending to be Gigi Hadid texting me and asking me to get a drink tonight?”

Jake’s eyes went wide and he stuck his head out in shock. “What? No--that’s not us, Y/N!”

“I was about to get in the shower and he’s trying to make a microwave cheese toastie,” Adam explained.

“Holy shit,” you stood up quickly, bolted back out their door and across the hall to yours. They followed behind quickly, froze in your living room when you searched for your phone on the couch cushions.

“No one’s pranking you, Y/N--you just got asked on a date by Gigi Hadid.”

“S’not a date,” you rolled your eyes. “Just a drink!”

“Well stop telling that to us and text her back!” Adam shouted.

You picked up the phone and stared at her message again, thumbed out a reply and tried to play it cool. She picked a spot and said she could meet you there in 30 minutes, so you tugged on a blouse and a skirt and Jake pretended to choke at the amount of dry shampoo you sprayed into your hair.

They watched you get into an Uber and promised to blackmail you forever if you didn’t give them a full update. Your teeth chattered from the cold and from anxiety as you hurried through the rain and into the hotel bar, all the while rehearsing things to say you were doing instead of admitting you’d housed a personal pizza and a glass of Pinot Noir before she’d texted.

She was seated in the back, a tiny table like Harry always requested, with a martini in front of her. You tried to slow your breathing as you approached, but she caught you and laughed like you were old friends.

“Are you out of breath?” She reached across and squeezed your hand in greeting.

“It was raining out, I don’t do well in the cold--”

“Funny you live in London, then,” she laughed.

You looked around at the high ceilings and dimly lit room, slinking out of your coat. “Thanks for, uh, inviting me, s’a lovely hotel.”

“Are you kidding me? Thanks for saving me from my hotel room and a solo McDonald’s dinner,” she teased.

You let out a laugh and leaned back in your seat, thankful for her honesty and calm demeanor. “I was in sweat pants doing serious damage on a frozen pizza when you texted,” you admitted as you shrugged out of your coat. “So--I should be thanking you.”

“I love that for you,” she nodded. “Order a drink so we can cheers to a new friendship.”

You smiled at that, felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach at the label. Friends? She sipped at her cocktail and a waiter approached with a napkin over his wrist to take your order.

When he disappeared to fetch a Moscow Mule, you confessed: “I, uh, actually thought your text was a prank from my friends across the hall.”

“No you didn’t!”

“I did!” you laughed. “They were very excited to learn that I was interviewing you for my cover story, huge crushes on you. They’re boys, obviously--well, not obviously, my friend Bryn is as gay as they come and she’s also obsessed with you.”

You wanted to smack yourself across the face in embarrassment--as gay as they come? You winced at your gracelessness but Gigi only laughed.

“You should have brought them!”

You pulled a face and shook your head. “M’going to pretend you didn’t say that so I don’t get murdered tomorrow.”

“Well I’m just glad you weren’t busy with Harry or work.”

Right--which category did Gigi Hadid fall in? Find out on the internet, or tell her--right here, right now--as she used the olive skewer to stir her drink?

You forced a tight-lipped smile. “We actually broke up this week--but s’fine, kind of felt like it was headed that way for a while.”

“Oh, Y/N--I’m so sorry, I had no idea--”

“Yeah, no, hasn’t really gone public yet.”

You didn’t like the way she offered you a pity smile, but you could tell it was genuine. “Well, hey--as we said the other day. Boys are stupid and relationships are crazy difficult.”

“True,” you nodded.

“D’you think it’s for good?”

The waiter appeared with your drink, you thanked him and took a sip before answering.

“I forget if I told you, but I’ve known him forever, we’ve got the same friend group from back home. It gets a little messy sometimes seeing as my friends are his and none of them know when to stay out of each other's business. God love ‘em, but that’s been hard.”

She frowned, “yeah--being in the public eye can be really hard on friendships too.”

With an already wounded ego this week, you didn’t feel like reminding her that your level of internet fame was no match to her international fashion model status.

You didn’t know how much you should divulge to her, seeing as she was still a stranger and also the girlfriend of Harry’s ex-bandmate. This was the kind of situation that often had Harry’s or Jeff’s voice playing on a loop in your head: you never know who might repeat what you say.

Even broken up Harry’s career still controlled what you could disclose and to whom? You took another sip of your drink and felt the anger grow inside of you.

Gigi made an effort to get to know you--she asked about New York and why you left, told you about where she grew up and how much she loved horses. You weren’t sure if she purposefully avoided talking about Harry, but being able to talk about things other than your love life was a welcomed reprieve from the last few days and your typical partners in conversation.

You were shocked to find out that she knew your old boss, Whitney, and even more surprised to hear that she’d read your work before and was excited to learn you’d been assigned her cover at The Face.

By 11:30 she offered to have her driver bring you home and sweetly swatted your hand away from your wallet when you paid out. I’m the one who pulled you away from sweatpants and pizza.

Camera lights flashed when you walked behind her towards the car. It was a similar level of blinding that you’d experienced before with Harry, but he didn’t have legs like hers. You slid into the backseat beside her and then the car lurched into motion.

“Surprisingly that’s not as bad as New York,” she laughed.

“That’s what Harry says.”

She offered a sympathetic smile when she turned to face you. “Have you talked to him at all?”

“No,” you shook your head, deciding it was too soon to admit you’d emotionally showed up at his house only 36-hours earlier. “I’ll have to see him at some point but--might avoid it for as long as possible.”

Your phone buzzed on your lap and pulled your attention away from her. You swiped to open the email and despite Gigi having already labeled you a friend, she couldn’t read the look of surprise on your face.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah--sorry--just a work email.” You clicked it shut and smiled.

Partially true.

Y/N,

We understand your inability to relocate to Los Angeles and would be happy to discuss with you the possibility of a position at our London satellite. If you’re interested, let’s set up a call soon to discuss further details.

**

The next day after work you found yourself at Bryn’s flat making a list of pros and cons. A childish way to make a decision, she told you, but at this point, you felt like you didn’t know which way was up and which was down.

She asked a million questions after you disclosed the details of your most recent social event and in between scribing for you, she’d wonder aloud: what kind of hotel does Gigi stay in? What kind of impression did you make on her if she asked you to get drinks and offered to extend the interview? What did she smell like?

It took a lot of redirecting and a lot of deep breaths.

The list, so far, was as follows:

Pros of E! News on-air job

On-air, a career goal for sure

Higher pay, they’d informed you of the salary over the phone earlier in the day

Live reporting!

A bigger company than The Face, more international?

More opportunities to cover pop-culture (your favorite thing to dissect for a living)

Cons of E! News on-air job

Leaving Naomi and Tyler

Less writing

Potential of having to talk about Harry/more opportunities for a conflict of interest

You looked up from the piece of paper you’d ripped from a notepad at her place, now it sat atop your kitchen counter as you waited for water to boil.

It was undoubtedly a good career move, something you’d long been interested in, and Bryn had assured you that whatever guilt you felt about leaving The Face was unnecessary. A pang of sadness when you realized you couldn’t call Jessie, this was a moment when you would have happily welcomed her strong opinions.

You opened a box of pasta and dumped some into the pot when your phone dinged to signal a new text.

Harry S (6:31pm): Read over the transcript and rough draft you sent to Jeffrey. Honestly worried that people will read it and think dating me is miserable.

Your heart was in your throat in a matter of seconds, skin prickly with emotion as your thumbs hovered over the screen.

Y/N L/N (6:32pm): Well to be fair it wasn’t always a walk in the park.

Harry S (6:32pm): You realize that if you write an article smearing me they’ll cover both of us in the news, right?

Y/N L/N (6:33pm): It’s not smearing you, it’s an honest conversation we had and a think-piece pertaining to sexism in celebrity and pop culture.

Harry S (6:33pm): And your admission that dating me has negatively impacted your personal and professional life…

Y/N L/N (6:34pm): I’m nothing if not an honest journalist 🤷‍♀️

Harry S (6:34pm): Bad press is bad press for both of us

Harry S (6:35pm): Don’t you think we should avoid things that will just bring bad headlines?

Y/N L/N (6:35pm): I’m not changing my article so you don’t have to deal with media backlash

The sound of your pot boiling over made you abandon your phone on the counter. Shit, shit, shit, you tugged it off the burner and found a tea towel to wipe up the spill.

Once you got it back under control, you saw the screen of your phone light up with his contact photo, a knot in your stomach let you know you might not be hungry for dinner anymore.

You swiped your thumb to answer it. “What?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“What do you want, Harry?”

“I want to talk about this feature--isn’t that what we agreed to the other day with Jeff?”

“Pretty sure I agreed to talk to Jeffrey,” you informed. “But go ahead.”

“M’not trying to be a dick, Y/N, okay? But you’ve never wanted our relationship to be making huge news so I’m a bit confused as to why you’re now going to drag me through the mud.”

“Harry,” you said his name calmly and then let out a sigh. “I am not dragging you through the mud by acknowledging the fact that your status as a musician and celebrity has affected my career.”

It felt stupid to explain it to him, it was something he’d been more than willing to acknowledge before.

“Y/N,” he mirrored your tone. “Hard to agree with you when one of the sentences you wrote in your draft is: Sure--as Gigi explains--dating a talented musician has it perks, but the downfalls are easy to count: lack of privacy, grueling schedules, and the constant need to remind just about everyone that you’re more than the vagina he has sex with when he’s not in meetings or on tour.”

“Well, it’s a rough draft, Harry--m’sure Donna wouldn’t let me actually publish that. I’ve just got to get the creative juices flowing.”

He let out a sigh, one that suddenly reminded you that despite his flaws and missteps, he was still human. He still had emotions on the other end of the phone and he was probably right that referencing your--or Gigi’s--vagina was probably not a great idea.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Jessie.”

You were quiet for a second, stirred the pasta in the water and waited to see if he had anything else to say.

“Are you there?”

“Yes--I just don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Alright, listen. I can’t stop you from breaking up with me and I can’t stop you from writing this feature however you want, but please remember that you’ve worked so hard for your career to be what it is. You built it before I was in New York--” another sigh. “I don’t want to be petty with you, alright? If we’re actually ending this I don’t want it to be stupid and dramatic and immature.”

You clenched your jaw at his insults cloaked as adjectives. “Kind of feels like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Y/N I can admit I fucked up, alright? But I don’t want to put our friends in the middle or feel like I can’t ever see them because you’re upset with me.”

You couldn’t help yourself: “Sounds like you think they’d take my side.”

He let out a groan, for a second you wondered if he would hang up on you. But you softened when he said: “Actually I just think we care about each other too much to be like this.”

A pause, bubbles in the pot floated towards the surface and across the living room was his spot on the sofa.

“Fine,” you said, your voice less angry.

“Fine?”

“I’ll send another draft to Jeffrey in a few days--but I’m not about to write a glowing review for you. That’s not even what this feature is about. My job is to write about Gigi and the things that she and I spoke about. I won’t let you and your manager dictate it. Showing you the transcripts or the draft is just a courtesy.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.”

“I’ll--uh, talk to you later, yeah?”

You hung up then, but only because you didn’t know if you would.

Jessie Alby (6:45pm): Can we please talk soon?

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tag list:

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AN: HI FRIENDS! Sorry this chapter took a minute!!!! I am so excited to be sharing this story with you all and it means so much to get messages and hear how invested people are in my characters, so thanks for always reaching out and sharing your thoughts, feelings, opinions, questions, etc. Hope everyone is having a lovely October!!!!!

[harrystylescherry]

a/n: god do i love sex...also this isn’t proofread or edited at all

warnings: choking 

what is is: some good old fucking

word count: 4k

let me know what you think :)

MASTERLIST

You were so sexually frustrated you could’ve cried. 

It had been like that all day—the past few days, actually. It was absolute torture. Harry had been beyond busy with the Grammy’s coming up in the next few days, constantly in rehearsals, constantly tired, and the kind of stressed out that didn’t warrant a sexual release. You on the other hand, were going through some kind of hyper sexual phase. This happened every few weeks or months; you were horny all the time, always wanting to be touched, always all over Harry. Then it would fade and you’d be normal again. Usually, it wasn’t a problem since Harry was always more than happy to help his girlfriend get off. But now, he was too busy and too tired—so you were suffering. 

Sure, you could’ve taken care of yourself, but lately, it had become severely underwhelming, anticlimactic, and slightly disappointing. The releases just weren’t the same. You needed someone else’s hands—you needed Harry, but as of late, he was never in the mood. 

Because you didn’t want to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, didn’t want to pressure him into doing something he didn’t want to do, you hadn’t even tried to tease him or entice him. Instead, you had straight up asked him, “So, do you think you can fuck me today?” or “Are you by any chance in the mood to get head today?” 

Unfortunately, each time, his answer was the same. He would laugh at your bluntness and then apologize because, no, he was not. Then you would groan and whine dramatically about how you were sure if he didn’t touch you soon you would absolutely die—then Harry would laugh again, kiss you on the forehead, and go about his day. It was absolutely infuriating. 

It was day four of your withdrawals and you were sure that your sanity was hanging by a thread. You couldn’t concentrate on anything—not on the emails you were meant to be answering, the call you had with your mom, the tik toks you were scrolling through, the zoom call you had, or on the book you had started reading as a last resort (it was something from Harry’s collection and so not your vibe but you just wanted some kind of distraction). All you could think about was getting railed. It was all you wanted. Forget the kissing, the foreplay, the fingers, all of it—you wanted to be filled. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was. 

You heard the front door of the house open and close. You heard him toss his keys in the small bowl next to the door before he kicked off his shoes. 

When he entered the living room, you didn’t look up, knowing that looking at him a little sweaty and tired from rehearsals was enough to make you audibly whine. 

“How’s my girl?”

“Horny.” It was out before you could stop it. 

He laughed softly. “How ‘bout hungry?” He held up the big brown bag in his left hand. 

“Food will fill the void temporarily.”

“I thought you would’ve taken care of that by now.” He said as he started to unpack the sushi from the bag. 

You groaned. “I told you it’s not the same!”

“I’m sorry, I just—“

“Haven’t been very horny lately, I know, I know.” You slouched and sighed. “Sorry for being so bratty, I’m just…in pain.”

“Pain?”

“Horny pain.” 

“Maybe later I can help you out.”

You waved a dismissive hand at him. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want a pity orgasm. And honestly, I think of past the point of fingers being enough.”

“Oh.” You could see the blush dust across Harry’s cheeks. 

“It’s fine, really. I’m good.”

“If you say so.” Harry said before dropping a chunk of wasabi into his soy sauce. 

***

So, turns out, you weren’t good.

Dinner had finished a little while ago and you and Harry were sitting on the couch, watching King of Queens reruns. You were scrolling through your phone and he was answering emails on his laptop. 

Purposefully, you had put a good two feet in between your bodies, knowing that having to be close to him without being able to touch him would just drive you insane. When he leaned over and squeezed your leg almost absentmindedly, your whole body tensed as a pang of need shot through you. You let out a small breath when he returned his hands to his keyboard. 

A few minutes later, he scooted closer to you, which caused you to scoot further towards the end of the couch in order to keep your distance. 

Harry grabbed your ankle and gave it a small yank. “Hey, c’mere. I haven’t been near you all day. I missed you.”

When you looked over at him with the intention of protesting, the words died in your throat. He was looking at you so sweetly, with a small furrow in his brow that showed his need to be close to you. 

You sighed before locking your phone and dropping it on the cushion next to you. His smile was wide when you scooted over to him and settled your head on his chest and threw your legs over his now empty lap. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed the top of your head. 

When he brushed his fingers over the back of your neck, you whined softly, the most innocent of touches being too much. He kissed your hair once more before resting his chin on your head so he could watch the show. You ran your finger over his collarbone which was unintentionally exposed by the old, ratty, stretched out Ramones t shirt he was wearing. You traced the bit of the swallow that was showing and let out a long sigh. The warmth between your legs hadn’t gone away at all. Instead, it was growing; you knew what was under his shirt, what his bare torso looked like and just imagining it was enough to make you ache. 

“You okay?” He asked as he ran his right hand down your leg in a way that was meant to be comforting—it was not. 

“Mhmm.” You said as your eyes fluttered closed. 

When his laptop dinged with an email notification, he leaned forward slightly. “Oh, sorry, love. This is important. Just give me one second.” He said as he dropped his arm from around you. 

You pulled your legs from off him and set your feet on the floor as he pulled the Mac onto his lap. You rested your chin on his shoulder blade and ran your palm flat over his toned back. When he let out a noise signaling it felt nice, you took the opportunity to dip your hand underneath his t shirt and scratch over his skin. When he let out a soft moan, you felt the spot between your thighs pulsate. You groaned loudly and dropped to your shoulder behind his body. You laid there limp, disappointed and frustrated. 

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing.” You dragged the word out. 

“I told you I could—“

“I swear I’ve never been this sexually frustrated in my life. I think I’m going to cry.”

Harry laughed sweetly. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s not your fault.” You mumbled. 

“Can you scratch my back again?”

“Fine. But don’t make any even remotely sexual noises or I will literally have a breakdown.”

“Deal.”

After readjusting your position so that you were sitting on your heel, you moved your hand back to his back. As he answered the email, he gave you direction and visibly tried to not let out any kind of sigh or sound that would indicate that it felt good. 

He closed the laptop and turned to face you, causing your hand to drop from his back. “Your turn.” He pushed himself back and laid down on his side. Once he propped a pillow underneath his head, he motioned for you to join him. “C’mere. Lay down.” 

You bit your lip before plopping down next to him, your ass hovering precariously close to his front. He pushed your side so that you would lay on your stomach and you obliged, scooting around to get comfortable. When your head was resting on your folded arms, he hiked your t-shirt up as far as he could, accidentally exposing your boobs in the process, but he didn’t even seem to notice. You let out a soft sigh when he began raking his nails over your back, hitting your favorite spots and sending small chills down your spine. Again, warmth blossomed between your legs and you were sure that all it would take to get off at this point was fifteen minutes of this. 

He rubbed his palm over your warm skin before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. When he placed another a little bit lower, you moaned quietly. His hand moved to your hip—and just when you thought he was going to make a move, he pulled you back into spooning position and wrapped his arms tight around you and pulled you close to his chest. He placed a kiss to the top of your ear. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said before trying to focus on the show. 

You were simply going to have to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t interested in fucking you. The thought repeated in your mind when he yawned and adjusted his body to get comfortable. In doing so, he had rubbed his front against your ass, but there was no sign of a boner. It was a sad realization. 

You knew it wasn’t that Harry didn’t find you sexy or wasn’t turned on by you. Usually, the two of you probably had sex more than the average couple did and you were always making fun of him for getting hard during moments that didn’t make sense to you, like when you were brushing your teeth together in the bathroom, or you were laying on the couch reading, or when you came back from a run completely drenched in sweat and smelly. It wasn’t a secret that the mere thought of being with you turned Harry on—he was just going through a bit of a sex drive drought, which was absolutely fine. 

It’s not like it had ever happened to you before. Of course there were times, stretches of days (usually when you were experiencing PMS), where you weren’t in the mood. Sometimes you just wanted to be cuddled, and sometimes even though you wanted to want to have sex, wanted to be turned on, you just couldn’t. So, you understood the situation Harry was in and honestly, if you were in his position, you probably wouldn’t be in the mood to have sex either. If you were him, you would want to be cuddled, coddled, comforted and taken care of in order to relieve whatever stress you could. 

Suddenly, you felt a little bad about all your whining. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t in the mood and you really hoped it hadn’t sounded like you were trying to guilt him into giving you what you wanted or trying to make him feel bad for something he couldn’t control. You knew that Harry knew you were a complainer and didn’t mean anything by all the whining, but you also knew that if you were on the receiving end, it wouldn’t exactly make you feel good. 

You sighed softly before twisting around in his embrace so you were facing him. You placed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and then to his lips which he returned softly. “Sorry for being so whiny.” You whispered. 

He smiled. “It’s okay, baby.” He kissed you once more before moving to lay on his back. 

You tucked yourself into his side and he scratched at the skin of your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. When you saw that his t-shirt had ridden up to expose the lower half of his stomach, you started to lightly scratch the area. 

For whatever reason, being scratched was one of Harry’s favorite things. Sure, you loved having your back scratched, but that was about it. Harry, on the other hand, often asked for you to scratch his arms, his back, would lift up his shirt and signal for you to scratch the entirety of his torso—even the palms of his hands and the insides of his wrists. At first you thought it was odd, but now it was a natural action whenever the two of you were laying down or he needed to be relaxed. 

Since his arm was thrown across his stomach, instead of disturbing him and moving up to his chest, you dipped your hand underneath the band of his sweats and trailed your nails over his hip. You ignored the way that Harry’s body tensed, assuming that it was a ticklish spot and moved to the outer side of his thigh. When he changed after dinner, he had forgone boxers so there was nothing in your way. 

When you scratched up the inside of his thigh, he let out a breathy groan, which took you slightly by surprise. Despite the warmth that blossomed between your legs, you ignored the sound and continued to run your nails over his skin. His breathing started coming out ragged, while his grip on your shoulder tightened. When you dragged your nails up the inside of his groin, he let out a long moan and you felt his dick twitch against the side of your hand. 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his brow was slightly furrowed, and his mouth was barely open. “Sorry.” You whispered. 

When you went to pull your hand from his pants, he grabbed your wrist and pushed it back down. “Please don’t stop.”

You obliged silently and once again began to trail your fingers over his hips, down the insides of his thigh and up over his pelvic bone, purposefully allowing your fingers to brush against his hard on. You licked your lips when precum dripped across your knuckles. 

Harry grabbed your chin and tilted your face up so he could kiss you. He wasted no time in slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moaned against his lips while wrapping your hand around his cock and slowly sliding your hand up and down. He groaned harshly into your open mouth and tightened his grip on your jaw. 

He pulled your hand from his pants so he had easier access to you. When he ran a delicate finger over your loose shorts, you released a needy whine and he smirked. “That bad?” He asked and you rolled your eyes before forcing your lips back on his. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled against your lips when he pushed your shorts out of the way to find you hadn’t been wearing any underwear either. You were dripping, easily coating his fingers as he slid his pointer and middle along your folds. When he stopped them at your center, your hips bucked greedily. When he pushed them in, you fisted the collar of his t-shirt and cursed. 

Your sounds were strangled and unfinished, unable to catch your breath as he curled his fingers in and out of you. “Fuck.” You whispered into his mouth. “I want to ride you. Please.”

“Yeah?” He slammed his fingers into you hard and you gasped. 

“Baby, please.”

He placed a long kiss to your lips before pulling his fingers out of you. You sat up quickly and pulled off your t-shirt before standing up so you could drop your shorts. Before you could turn back around to face Harry, he had grabbed your thighs and pulled you close to him. He kissed your lower back, right above your ass before massaging it and biting it softly. “Fuck, you look good.” He whispered when you turned around. 

Your eyes raked over his naked body—a sight you had missed more than you thought possible and it had only been a couple of days. 

Before you could make a move, he had grabbed your hips harshly and pulled you onto him. You settled your knees on either side of his hips as he hurriedly took your nipple into his mouth. You placed your hands on the back of the couch to stabilize yourself while leaning into his mouth. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass while the other pulled at your other nipple. You whimpered when you sat down and your clit came in contact with his shaft. 

He sighed as he moved to suck your other nipple into his mouth and you began to move your hips, reveling in the way his tip slipped between your folds and then nudged at your clit. You gripped at his hair when he started kissing your neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. When you leaned down to kiss him roughly, his hand on your ass moved to align himself with your center. 

You slid down slow, a desperate moan falling from your lips. Harry cursed before biting harshly onto your bottom lip. 

“Slow, baby. Go slow.” He whispered, knowing you wanted nothing more than to rock your hips quickly against him, your body begging for an immediate release. 

You rolled your hips slowly, fighting the urge to buck them harder each time your clit rubbed against his skin. Harry’s hands on your hips helped guide your speed while his eyes were trained on your chest. When he finally looked up at you, he cursed. 

“You look so pretty like that.” His right hand moved to massage your breast and his praise tightened the knot in your stomach. “Look at you; just like that.” 

You dropped your forehead to his and struggled to keep your hips rhythm. 

“Good girl. Fuck, keep going. That’s it.” 

A strained moan left your lips as you dropped your face into his neck. Your orgasm was growing quickly and with each bit of praise, you found yourself closer and closer to becoming undone. The friction was too good and Harry’s cock inside of you felt like too tight of a fit. Each movement felt like it could be the one that brought you the release you needed and it was becoming too much. 

“Fuck, I wanna come.” You said into Harry’s shoulder. 

“Come on, baby.” Harry wrapped his arms tight around your waist and held you as close to him as he possibly could. 

You pulled harshly at his hair as you began to feel your orgasm overtake you. “Oh, god.” It was loud and desperate as your hips moved frantically over his. “Fuck, Harry.” 

He held you close as you shook against his body and rode out your orgasm. When you slowed down your movements, he released his tight grip. 

After you placed a kiss on his neck, he tugged softly at your hair to get you to sit up so he could see you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth while your fingers tangled in his hair. 

“Want another?” He asked. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Stand up.”

He slipped out of you as you stood up and waited for instructions. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again before turning you around to face the couch. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you kneeled onto the cushions and leaned forward to rest your hands on the back of the couch as you arched your back for him. 

“Fucking hell.” He whispered before slapping your ass harshly. He brought his hand down hard one more time before gripping your hips and pulling you back slightly so he could guide himself in. The both of you moaned in unison when he slid in slow.

As he began to thrust harder and faster, he gathered up your hair in one hand and pulled it back which forced you to arch your back further. His other hand stayed planted on your waist while he moaned. 

You could hear that his moans were becoming more desperate and his curses were coming out unfinished. He pulled out of you quickly. “You’re too good. Fuck—you feel too good.” He squeezed your waist. “C’mere.” 

When you turned around, you kissed his jaw and then his chest. 

“On your knees, on the floor.” He commanded against your lips. 

You walked around the coffee table and settled yourself on the carpet—soft enough to kneel on, but rough enough to give you rug burn on your back. 

“Up.”

You stood on your knees and Harry pressed his chest against your back. He placed his open palm on your stomach and held your jaw with the other. He tilted your head to the side so he had access to your neck and began to suck hard on the soft skin and moved down your shoulder before biting it softly. 

He moved the hand that was on your stomach down and nudged your thighs a bit further apart. When he began tracing circles over your clit, you leaned back into him and let your head fall back onto his shoulder. He kissed your temple and moved his other hand from your jaw to around your neck. When he applied pressure, you let out a breathy moan.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice was soft and slightly strained. 

“Jesus.” He whispered. “Say it again.”

“Please, Harry. I want you to fuck me.”

He removed his hand from your clit momentarily so he could push his cock back into you. As soon it as it was in, his fingers were back tracing circles over the small bud and his other hand was tight around your neck. 

His thrusts were slow paced and it was agonizing. A new orgasm began to build slowly between his cock and his hands, but you wanted it faster. 

You reached back and dug your nails into his thigh. “More please.”

Harry cursed as he sped up his movement and tried to hit as deep as he could. He sped up his fingers on your clit and knew you were satisfied when your chest began to rise and fall quickly and his skin started to sting where your nails were dug in so far they were sure to leave marks. 

“Oh, fuck. Harry…I’m…Harry—“

“Come on, love. Be a good girl and come.” His voice was thick and raspy in your ear—more than enough to send you over the edge. 

Your body lurched forward as a strangled moan flew from your lips. It was more intense than the last since your clit was already so sensitive. 

Harry followed you down, unrelenting with his hand and his thrusts. Your body shook between his and the floor as his named mingled with the curses you whispered harshly. Harry kissed the back of your neck and then the side of it, right beneath your ear and your writhed underneath him. Your hips bucked against his hand and with every movement, you tightened around his cock. 

As you came down, you reached back, rested your hand in his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp. 

He slowed down his movements and burrowed his face in your neck. “Can I come? Please, baby.”

“Mhmm.” Your approval was soft as he pebbled kisses over your neck. 

Harry moved his hands to your waist and held onto you tightly while your hand stayed in his hair. His groans were drawn out and his moans were short and needy, while yours were delicate and peppered between whimpers. 

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna come.” Harry bit hard into your shoulder as he released inside of you. As his cock twitched inside of you, he sighed and released your shoulder. He kissed the bite and then your back before pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back. 

When you went to get up, he quickly pulled you on top of him and moved you so that you were laying directly on top of him, your chest pressed against his. He leaned up and kissed you gingerly before brushing your hair away from your face. 

“Don’t ever let me think I’m not in the mood again—especially, if that’s what I’m missing.” His smile was wide and sleepy. 

“Trust me, I won’t. That was absolute torture.”

The two of you giggled quietly. 

“I love you, baby.” He trailed his finger down your cheek. 

“I love you too.”

[bumbershots]

THE END OF JUNE

A/N: Hello! Here’s my part for the 1DFF Summer Challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to check out the other amazing pieces published by other authors. The trope I chose was love triangle and I wanted to do something different (?) kind of my take on it. I hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @stylishmuser ♡

Trope: love triangle.

The universe is trying to kill me, Harry thinks.

Just when he was trying to be a good fiancé—the word still makes him cringe. Harry finds himself not paying attention to his girl’s football game, his interest in it was lost the moment a small noisy group chose to settle themselves below where he was in the seating area. Their loud cheering was all Harry could and wanted to hear for the rest of the match.

He tried to look away, really forced himself a couple of times to focus on anything else, but his gaze was almost immediately trained back to the back of a familiar and yet unknown mane of blonde hair. Harry could try all he wanted to look away then, he knew there was no use, not when little flashbacks of what happened one summer, many moons ago, kept assaulting him.

It’s a small memory, nothing too serious to warrant a constant rethinking, but that night he falls asleep and dreams of it —dreams of it with so much vividness that when he wakes up, startling back into consciousness in the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend Amara, he can still see the hooded dark eyes looking up at him, can see his own shaky hand pushing back those locks before leaning in.

It takes a while for the dream to fade, and it’s Amara, always Amara, that Harry registers first; Amara’s spooning him, arms around Harry, and Harry can feel her even breathing tickling the back of his neck. It’s calming somehow, and if he really focuses for a moment, he will be able to hear Amara’s heartbeat. And he waits for the rest of the dream to leave like that, except it doesn’t, instead it shows him the same scenario as before but this time Amara hugs him from behind, her eyes closed and she’s begging him to stop pining for the guy before them.

◇

“Did you have a bad dream last night?”

This is Amara’s uniqueness, her ability to notice things even when it should be impossible for her, and then start a conversation that will make Harry almost trip over the mat outside their bath. Lucky for them, Harry’s able to stop the fall with a hand against the wall before instantly turning to Amara, already dressed and styling her hair.

“Well, not really—it was just a dream?”

Their morning routine is one of his favourite things. Amara would jostle Harry awake and next there would be a flurry of sheets and mumbles and toilets flushing, but it feels as if today’s conversation doesn’t fit anywhere and there is a sudden stillness when he perches himself on top of a kitchen island stool, taking in every detail of the kitchen —their kitchen—and marvelling at the fact that something so simple and wonderful like his mornings with Amara could be his.

It’s been enough months, but his eyes still catch on her ring.

It’s been more than enough months, where he hasn’t felt any different than to see it there, and know exactly what promises it bears for their future, suddenly what used to be a nice feeling in Harry’s chest—ballooning in his lungs at seven in the morning, the way it feels when he gets to the high notes in Sign of the times where the music swells and he gets to unleash his vocal chords’ full potential like an eagle spreads its wings ready to fly and just feel, just be. Now feels like he has a boa squeezing all the air out of him along with his life, that’s what being with Amara after dreaming about his old lover last night feels like. Pressure, none of his emotions in control, all of them cold.

The sunlight pouring into the kitchen, the breeze ruffling his curls. It doesn’t seem real, but it feels, more than anything, like acting in a movie.

But it is real, and that is the part where Harry stumbles on—on the fact that all of this is true, within reach, whether the ring is there or not—the fact that he has been sharing his life with Amara is real.

Little things like this—like Amara’s hand brushing Harry’s hair back, like Amara’s hand tracing her fingers on his neck until it tickles—those things take Harry’s breath away when they happen. They’re shocking reminders of how real all of this is, and how deeply and intensely he feels about her, and sometimes when he’s reminded of the things he does have, all he can do is stare.

He’s doing it now, but Amara, always is staring back with equal fondness.

“Just a dream as in a bad one or a good one?” she inquires.

“I did dream, but it wasn’t bad…”

Amara blinks. “Oh? Was it a naughty—”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Not that, either. Just a memory, that’s all.”

“A pleasant one?”

“I guess…”

The coffee maker beeps then, and Harry flounders—I guess what?

The longer he sits there, the faster the dream seems to be growing fainter, only the edges of the memory softening how it had felt to dream something from so long ago. It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to get married next year at the end of June, but it just seems to fade in comparison to the memory of how years ago, he would get a kiss every morning along with a mug of tea instead of coffee.

There must be a story somewhere, Amara knows, about people her fiancé had not let go entirely. Or maybe he had and it was just a memory. She doesn’t want to feel like he’s keeping the truth from her, so without asking more questions, she leaves for work and leaves a quick peck on his cheek.

Reality completely falls on Harry’s shoulders the moment Amara’s out the door and he’s finally able to accept that last night his heart found his way to his throat, at the sight of whom he used to share his mornings with, all those years ago.

Harry sighs completely defeated, when it comes to Manjiro, love has really always been the most fitting word.

◇

Weddings aren’t supposed to be this easy.

It’s never, ever, by any means, a one-man or two-man affair; they’re both lucky to have a supportive circle of people more than happy to butt heads with everyone else about every single detail. But the exhaustive planning and petty arguments about the wedding’s coordination never come.

At first Amara thought that because Harry was someone that has spent his career finding the balance, good compromise, between what could only be called a perfectly choreographed schedule and heart, it was an easy task. There were people to call, suits and dresses to fit, neckties to ask Harry about. There were invitations and RSVPs and confirmation e-mails to be read and responded to.

Amara was honestly longing for it, the planning, the waiting, the itch that none of them couldn’t seem to scratch away, the urgency for it all to be over. It never came.

Mostly, if she’s honest, it’s just frustrating that Harry was able to take all that work and do it; it’s rare in life for her to feel uncertain in certainty, for her to second-guess every little flawless action Harry did for the wedding. Amara feels that no matter which angle she examines all this from, no matter how many times she changes her mind on the flowers and the cake, he will find a way to do it splendidly. It makes her blood boil, because she knows that something is wrong but she can’t know exactly what it is, not when Harry looks so certain about anything.

But she's completely wrong about his certainty.

“Harry?”

Harry blinks, thinks for a second that he’s imagined that voice. But when he turns to look over his shoulder, blinking a few more times just to be sure that his eyes are not deceiving him, to a very grown up Manjiro standing in the doorway of his favourite bakery.

“What brings you to this side of town?”

“I—” Harry hums, putting his wallet back in his pocket. “Just getting some fresh baked goodies for tomorrow’s breakfast. And thinking.”

“I see,” Manjiro says softly, he opens the door and motions his head to the street, an invitation. One that Harry has yet to refuse. "Is it about your wedding?”

“How do you know about that?” Harry retorts, but all he gets is Manjiro’s playful eye roll that takes him back to that summer when he was nineteen and so madly in love, so he lets it go. “Kind of?” He admits.

“Having second thoughts?” The shorter man fails to disguise the teasing from his tone.

“Yes and no.” Harry says, even as Manjiro smiles, chuckles a little as he pulls Harry to cross the street. “But I think she’s having second thoughts as well. About me.”

“Oh I don’t blame her for that.” Manjiro tilts his head up in a way that allows him to look at Harry from under his lashes, like he’s searching for something. It takes Harry back to the first time they kissed, so he looks away a bit flushed.

Sometimes, too, Manjiro felt flushed upon doing things he reserved for Harry and Harry alone. The first time he cooked dinner for someone that was not Harry was a disaster, that person saw him in tears before taking the first bite. After breaking up with Harry, he swore that the spark from his heart was gone, at times it felt like something unlatched from his chest and he couldn’t breathe properly. And no place in this world could ever be Harry-free, he knew after seeing his gorgeous face on a Shanghai banner announcing him as a part of a famous lingerie fashion show. Once Manjiro came to terms with him being the only one to blame for the situation he was in, he was finally able to move on. Little by little, harder than anything he’s ever done before, but able to do it at last.

Which is why upon hearing Harry’s doubts about his upcoming marriage, did not give him any wrong ideas.

“Is it the song for the first dance?” Manjiro says, as they find themselves in Bushy Park. “Is that what’s worrying you?”

Harry shakes his head in denial, marvelling on how easy it is to discuss this with him. “Not the song choice, no.”

“Then?”

“Mikey,” Harry lets the old nickname slip away. He allows himself the hesitation, even if he doesn’t quite feel like he crossed any boundaries as he would have another time. “It just bothers me, how easy it is.”

Manjiro hums, blinking wide and confused and pretty and affectionate.

“We agree on everything, then she decides to change everything about it and I agree. Then she changes it again and I agree and sort it out.” Harry says, slowly. It isn’t something that bothers him, it’s the fact that it doesn’t bother him, what he thinks is off. “And I didn’t even care.”

“Ah.”

It’s Manjiro’s thoughtful ah, his cute giggle that follows it, one of the few things he still reserved for Harry, always just reserved for the things they seem to understand about each other without voicing, the things they seem to understand through touch and eye contact and smiles.

It’s overwhelming to know someone like that. Harry has had all sort of physical intimacy with other people before, but the way Manjiro seems to get what Harry’s thinking, even if not precisely nor completely, but enough to just latch onto that thought process and know that they fit together smoothly in this, to be so knowable and vulnerable and yet not to be engaged to that person. It’s a thing Harry gets mad about, it bothers him, more than the stupid napkin colour matching the table cloth, this is important because it sets his heart on fire and makes him fall in love again.

“Then I suppose you shouldn’t have a complicated wedding,” Manjiro says, twirling like a ballerina around Harry without warning. It startles another disbelieving laugh out of the latter, and the corners of Manjiro’s mouth tug up as well. “Have a small one, or have many, one every year until you’ve forgotten about the ones you didn’t care enough about, because you will have more of those moments to remember.”

“But this one will matter to her,” Harry says quietly. “The date is set to be on the night that we—that we—”

“Fell in love?” Manjiro finishes for him. “You know how I feel about love and all that nonsense. But I’m sure it certainly wasn’t the only time you fell in love with each other, nor the last.”

I did too, you know, Manjiro wants to say. I fell in love with you every morning. I fell in love when you woke up in the middle of the night and left the hallway lights on. I fell in love when you respected my decision to leave. I fell in love over and over and over again.

“Even now, you can still find things about her to fall all over again,” Manjiro continues, as softly as Harry had spoken earlier, clearly not meant to be spoken out loud. “Like this.”

This could mean anything. Could mean the second thoughts, could mean the rays of the moonlight, could mean the quiet of this park that Manjiro seems to be familiar with. Harry doesn’t know how to fall in love again with Amara, not when someone he thought he’d never see again is walking by his side, completely unfazed by their meeting.

Harry would like to call it fate, a happy coincidence written in the stars. But it seems that his Mikey hasn’t changed enough to believe in all that nonsense. Just before he got sad and gloomy, the thought of Amara flashed, she would be the one to call this type of situation a sign of the universe. Amara would even mock him a bit more and say it's a sign of the times, innit? And just like that Harry smiles.

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs after they reach the end of Hampton Court road. “I’ll take a cab from here.”

Manjiro’s quiet for a while.

“Thank you, Harry-kun,” he returns eventually. “Matane.”

It’s a reminder that Manjiro doesn’t like to say goodbye, not to Harry at least. He had thought about this, and it was a decision he made.

Separate lives chosen, love fallen into and out of.

“I love you.” Forever sentimental Harry can’t help but say, because he didn’t have a chance before, because he was waiting for the perfect moment, and because he was old enough now to bare his soul to the one that he loved before anyone else.

Harry blinks. Manjiro blinks.

And then they’re both smiling, and then there’s that sweet smile with his eyes closed that Mikey has saved all these years for this moment, and all Harry can think is that if he had to wish on a star now, if he had to wish for anything, anything at all, it will be this summer night, this pair of dark eyes staring right back at me, this, this.

Manjiro looks at Harry. He thinks; I love you.

◇

It’s a starry night, at the end of June in Holmes Chapel when their dream wedding happens.

A sky that Harry has grown up under, a sky that seems to stretch out above them as Harry repeats vows he’d already said in his head, agreed to fulfill promises he knew he wanted for their future, will want over and over for the rest of his days. A sky that has watched him fall in love with a gentle but cruel beautiful boy in the past, a sky that will watch how he falls in love over and over again with a strong and merciful woman.

A part of him does feel nineteen again, looking up, surrounded by new friends this time, by family, watching him get married.

Watching stars is far more infinite than the time he’ll ever spend thinking about the missing people tonight. Watching stars so ancient that could very well be the same ones he’d wished on when he was a broken hearted twenty-two year old. And stars so ancient that they’re also probably not at all the same. A lot of possibilities, a lot of things lost, but that’s fine with Harry. He has moved on.

Getting married in the hometown he loved this much, to the woman that has made him feel what it’s like to love and be loved so earnestly and so constantly and so real. This is all the certainty he needs.

Being with Manjiro and Amara feels like those evenings of star-gazing, if Harry really thought about it, that stillness, hand outstretched towards the stars. That feeling of being privy to that infinity, to something far larger than him. The only difference is that while Mikey made him feel small, Amara doesn’t, not like that. He feels secure, feels grounded, like he could close his eyes and it wouldn’t matter how far the stars are.

Pure contentment, sitting right at home in his chest every time he looks at her.

Just warmth, like a summer breeze.