summary: you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.
warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people (including close family members), fluff, sexual tension, brothers best friend, drunk crying lol
a/n: sorry I haven’t posted properly in a while! here’s a shorter piece while I work on some more stuff <3 plenty to come x
Saying you were a bit drunk was a drastic understatement.
You were stumbling all over the place, heels becoming impractical now you were so intoxicated.
Harry, who knew you were going out with some of your family and friends tonight at the bar, had no idea what he was coming back to.
You don’t remember actually intending to get this drunk, but your Aunty had been egging the group on to do some shots, and before you know it you’re well past tipsy. Even your mum was getting drunker than you’d seen in years.
So all the other boys who’d gone out— including Harry— walk into the hotel bar. It was as chic as the lobby, just adorning some more neon signs and rustic bar stools.
Harry had gone out with them to look at a heap of shit that you and your female family members had little interest in. They’d insisted you all stay and just have a couple cocktails, since it was a holiday after all.
It was to their surprise when your same eager aunt bounded up to them when they popped through the door to the bar. They had expected tipsy, but not hammered.
“Oh my god!! You guys will not believe how good the cocktails are here!” She swooned, and they all glanced at each other with an amused chuckle.
“I think I just might believe it.” One of the boys piped up.
Most of them dispersed to find their significant others, family or friends amidst the bar, and see how much chaos was being caused.
But you’d b-lined straight for Harry, regardless of whether he was seeking you out.
His brows shot up when you collided with his side, “Harry!”
Your arms wrap around his middle and you end up latching onto him, practically using him to keep yourself upright.
“Oh!” He speaks in surprise, hands jumping up to brace around your lower back.
“Are you absolutely hammered too, love?” He chuckles and you bury your face into his chest.
“Yeaaaaa…” you drawl, a smile spreading onto your face.
“Everyone else is rounding up their partners. Suppose I’m in charge of you, yea?” He suggests, rubbing your back.
“Wanna—“ you hiccup, “have a drink with me?”
He shakes his head with amusement, “I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart. We should get you back to your room.”
Most of your drunk family were getting escorted out by their respective people, being taken up to their hotel room before they can drink themselves any sillier.
This included your brother, Leon, who had his longtime girlfriend pulled into his side, holding her half up and laughing a little at her drunken slur.
He came to a stop when he seen both of you, eyes flitting between your two figures. A small twitch of his brows suggested he wasn’t sure of how he felt about the sight.
“You got her?” He asks, a protective edge to his voice. One that drunken you missed easily as you stayed plastered against him— which is something sober you would not do in general, let alone in front of your brother.
Harry nodded straight away, understanding his defensiveness over you since he feels the same about Gemma. He said softly, “Of course, I’ve got her mate. I’ll take her up to her room.”
Leon glanced at you again. Harry and him met when they were 9, and they’ve been best friends since then. He trusts Harry with his own life, and knows he’d never ever do anything that would hurt you, but his protective side is still flaring up.
Only when his girlfriend, Brie, complains of feeling nauseous he curtly nods, and continues heading for the door.
You are again, oblivious to all this, running your fingers along the tattoos exposed on his forearm— his sleeves rolled up to his elbows— putting his gorgeous skin out on display for you.
“I loveee your arms.” You slur, and his eyes shoot from the door back down to you.
He rarely sees you this drunk, and you’re suddenly very close— making comments that for many reasons are bringing a flush to his face.
“Y/N, Jesus you’re hammered.” He shakes his head, still smiling.
He slowly starts walking, “Cmon, let’s go. Y’brother is expecting me to get you back to your room in one piece.”
“You definitely won’t have a drink with me?” You whine, taking a few steps backwards trying to tug him in the direction of the bar instead of the door.
“Nope. Maybe tomorrow if you can even stomach alcohol.” He pushes the doors from the dimly lit bar open, and leads you into the back of the lobby that it’s connected to.
You squint at the dramatic change in lighting, which is hardly helping your sense of perception, or lack thereof, from the alcohol.
Harry’s hand has taken yours though, leading you to an elevator.
You noticed how warm it was, smooth against yours, aside from the rougher pads of his fingers from the years of playing guitar.
Being so off it, you could not keep that thought to yourself.
“Your hands are so soft, H. Like silk.” You say as you walk into the first elevator to open, squeezing his hand.
“First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered.” He smiles, squeezing back.
“what floor are y’on, by the way? D’ya even remember— or are we a bit too wasted for numbers?” A teasing lilt is in his voice.
You half-laugh half-hiccup, “it’s… 7…?”
“You hardly sound certain about that.” He nudges you with a laugh, “It’s 12, we’re on the same one, remember.”
You laugh much harder than any sober person would, which makes it funnier to him. Since it was a mediocre joke at best.
You’re still laughing as you touch his chest with your palm, “you’re not funny.”
His gaze travels down to it, and he’s shocked at how touchy you are. You never do shit like this when you’re sober. His own amusement quickly takes the back seat, even though you’re still giggling.
However your face falls shortly after, laced with a curious gaze as you slide the neck of his long sleeve to the side, in search for the swallows inked onto his collar bones.
He watches as your eyes wander the small expanse of skin there, and how your fingers brush the tattoos.
“Having fun?” He asks, trying to joke again, but really he’s undeniably a little worked up.
“Yah, heaps.” You snap your gaze back up to him as you enthusiastically nod.
He hates the fact he’s blushing so hard right now over this, since you’re drunk and not completely in control, but he at the end of the day is a man with a very pretty girl— which happened to be you— pulling at his top like she wants it off him.
You hum to yourself, “Have such a pretty neck.” And you trail your hand up it, running a finger over his adams apple.
The elevator door opens like a blessing, and he quickly moves to make distance between the two of you.
“Can you remember your room number, darling? That’s one thing I actually don’t know.” He looks to you as you follow him out with clumsy moments.
“Uh… I dunno— wait I think the keycard is in my purse.”
He laughs at this— wondering if it will come to you in time once you sober up.
“Fuckkk.” You groan. “My purse is in Molly’s big handbag.”
The groan soon turns into a whine, because drunk and being slightly inconvenienced is not a good pair.
“It’s ok!” He amends quickly, trying to keep from having a drunken meltdown on his hands, “We’ll just got back to mine, only if you’re comfortable?”
He quickly prepares for you to not want that, “otherwise— I’ll call her, she didn’t seem too wasted, I’m sure she can—“
He’s interrupted by you, “I don’t mind going back with you.”
You say it with a confused look on you face, a tiny pout on your lips.
“Why would I be uncomfortable going with you?”
“Because… well— I’m not sure. I just wanted to leave you with other options.”
It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone together before— you’ve actually spent plenty, but just never with you drunk.
And so touchy.
“No. It’s ok. I love being with you!” You chuckle.
He leads you down the hall, pulling the keycard from his back pocket once he reaches his room, 3313.
The door clicks open, and he holds it open for you, following you in shortly after.
You’re still unstable on your feet, and one look at those heels, he’s surprised you haven’t ended up on the floor in the last ten minutes
They’re practically a health and safety issue. He can not imagine you getting them off right now— which is exactly what you’re about to bend over and attempt.
Before you can throw off your centre of gravity, he quickly says, “Go sit on the bed.”
You glance back over your shoulder, face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room.
“That’s a little forward, don’t you think, Harry?”
He toes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.
“So I can take your shoes off.”
You make the few steps left to the bed safely, and you sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?”
“Yes.” He walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh.
He fiddles momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf, and choosing to ignore the way your dress is riding up your thighs.
Christ. This is harder than he thought.
“I forget how hot you are sometimes.” You deadpan, and his jaw goes a little lax.
You’re usually playful, yes, but never do you breach into territory like this.
It was only others, like those at a family gathering, or your close friends, that would push to get stuff like that out of you like they were matchmakers.
There were many times that barbecues or some kind of event held at yours, Leon would invite Harry over. And if the two of you even interacted for just a second, someone in your family circle would tease you. Especially your own damn brother— it was a constant streamline of snarky comments from him.
“You are so drunk.” He mumble while pulling up your other foot.
You ignore his statement, thinking back to when he was a boy to now. He was cute— always was— but the way he looks now is just unmatchable.
“Have you always looked so… like… this?”
He chuckles, almost nervous, “what does question that even mean?”
“So pretty.” You clarify after a moment of trying to find the word.
“Ah, you’re only saying that because you’re plastered up the walls.” He laughs, and a dimple popped on his cheek, and your hand jumped into action before you could even think about it.
“Noooo, sober me thinks that too. She thinks you’re more than pretty.” You say, cupping his jaw, gently tracing the dimple that popped up.
He doesn’t know how to interpret any of this. His heart is jumping in his chest, and he’s trying to reason its genuinely just the alcohol in your system.
He holds eye contact as he slips off your other shoe, placing in neatly next to the other.
He stays there for a moment, unprepared for your next question.
“Can I kiss you?”
She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk…
“You’re drunk, sweetheart.” He says, and it’s painful— because he wants to, so fucking bad, but you’re not in a state to consent to literally anything at the moment.
And especially not in the mind frame to be making decisions like this.
You lean forward anyway, before he has a chance to avoid it, managing to meet his lips on your own terms.
He caved for a brief flash of time, and allows a second for himself to feel it, no longer than that though. Just a mere moment to take in the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. It takes so much strength for him to not kiss you back, he has to focus on the task at hand— sobering you up and getting you safely asleep.
He pulls back after that single moment, leaving his forehead against yours, “baby, I know, I really…” he cuts himself off.
A deep inhale and he stands up, “Not tonight. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. You can wear something of mine.”
He walks over to his suitcase, anything to remove you from his sight for a moment, to reset his thought process. He pulls out a tshirt and pair of gym shorts, hoping they won’t be too big on you.
Turning back around, he convinces himself he’s fine. Placing the clothes from his bag on the bed beside you, his hands come under your arms, helping you stand up on flat feet for the first time in hours.
You lean into the touch, turning around so he can undo the back of your dress.
The feeling of his fingers brushing your back have you going wild, and the way they gently slide the zipper of your dress down.
His eyes lock with the back of your lacy bralette and he chooses not to follow your skin any further down.
You use your hands to slip the straps off your shoulders— and very quickly the dress is pooling at your feet.
A shaky inhale passes through his nose as now you stand in just your underwear and a seemingly very pretty bralette.
He reaches and picks up his shirt from the foot of the bed.
“Do you want to… take this off before…?” He gestures to your bralette when he catches your eyes.
You nod, reaching behind you to undo the clasp and allowing it to slip from your shoulders to the floor.
Harry puts all his focus on getting the tshirt over your head to cover you up.
Once it’s over your whole frame, you can’t help but smile.
He’s so nervy and cute around you.
“Thanks, Harry.” You smile, suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of adoration for him hit you.
It inflated up in your chest, and bubbled deep into the pit of your stomach.
It killed Harry to watch it happen, and although he had no idea what kind of thoughts were going on in your head, just seeing you light up like that…
You wrapped your arms around his middle again, just like you did when you ran up to him in the bar.
He placed his hands in your hair this time, taking in your scent— which was mixing with his own now that your were in his shirt.
“Love, if you were sober right now. God.” He confesses.
“Im sober enough.” You beg, even though it’s such a lie.
He still shakes his head against you, “‘M not gonna be that guy, Y/N. I have waited years just to have you. I can wait another night. Or week. Or a whole ‘nother year if that’s what it takes.”
This hits you hard.
And it felt like your 15 year old self could hear it up in the confines of your head it rung through you that loudly.
She loved him then, more than she’d ever admit. And sure, you’ve grown up from 15, but yet never once did you grow out of him.
As noted early, being drunk and inconvenienced is not a good pair. But being drunk and having someone say or do something sentimental like that is another level.
Tears immediately start to fall from your eyes, and he feels your chest shake at the sudden outburst of emotion.
He pulls back, thinking he’s done something wrong, or said the wrong thing, and an apology was immediately on the tip of his tongue.
But relief thrums through him as you tug him right back into the hug, “that’s— that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“The nicest thing a boys ever told me.”
“Sweetheart.” He coos as you cry, his own voice wobbly with emotion.
He feels like he’s on a roller coaster. 5 minutes ago it seemed all he could think about was the unspeakable things wanted to do to you, and now he just wants to lay you down and hold you until you fall asleep.
He forgets the shorts on the foot of the bed, shuffling the two of you up to where the head of it is— which was still unmade from last night when he’d slept in it.
He tugs you into it, pulling you tightly too his chest as your heads hit the pillows.
And he just hugs you.
Eventually, your crying subsides off, and you enter an indescribably calm state.
“I love you. I don’t even know if you’re going to remember this in the morning.” He sighs, “but fuck, I love you.”
“I love you too, Harry.” You whisper, before your eyes begin to fall heavy, and those words were the last to leave your lips before you fell asleep.
back again guys, hello!
this is like an extended a/n, but I have a lil update. I saw harry for the very first time live 3 weeks ago. it was so so incredible, and the experience was by far the best time of my life. I miss harry so much i just feel sick ugh. he is perfect. auslot was amazing, he absolutely gave us his all.
that’s why I’ve been so absent on here, literally coping with my pcd a day at a time. I’ve written heaps but nothing I’m 100% happy with haha.
but anyways I just thought I’d share, thank you so much for your continued support and know there is plenty in the works x
Summary: For Harry, nothing makes up for a bad day better than rough sex. Luckily, he has his friend Y/N to help out with that.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: smut (friends with benefits, mean dom!harry, degradation, bondage, spanking w hands and belt, choking, oral, anal, use of ball gag and butt plug)
Harry slams the door behind him as he enters Y/N’s apartment. He texted her earlier to ask if he could come over. His message alluded to the possibility of rough play, which Y/N could hardly ever refuse. As soon as he arrives, she can sense the irritability radiating off of him. It shouldn’t excite her this much—her friend being in a crappy mood—but it does.
“Hey,” she greets him, sitting up on the couch where she’s been indulging in some online shopping for the past hour.
He just hums in response and drops his duffle bag on the floor before removing his shoes, coat, and gloves.
“Rough day?” she asks, studying him.
“You have no idea,” he mutters.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Of course he doesn’t. Harry doesn’t like to talk at the end of a bad day. He likes to fuck. Without holding back.
Glancing at her, he says, “Wait there.” Then he picks up his bag and heads into her bedroom. A minute later, he emerges from the room without the bag and strides over to her.
“Up,” he says, as if he were instructing a dog.
“Okay.” She sighs and takes her time getting off the couch to avoid seeming too eager, even though on the inside, she’s ready to do just about anything he tells her.
Once she’s on her feet, he simply says, “Clothes off.”
Again, she dawdles while pulling her sweatshirt off and fumbles with the waistband of her shorts, lazily inching them down her legs. Harry releases an impatient sigh.
“Okay, okay!” She quickly removes the rest of her clothes.
The path his eyes take as they trail down her bare body sends the blood rushing between her legs. He steps closer and places his mouth over hers. His hands rest on her hips for a mere second before sliding to her backside. He squeezes it firmly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her round cheeks and pulling her body upward. She rises up on her toes and clutches his shoulders for balance. His teeth bite into her bottom lip. He tugs her even closer until her naked body is flush against his clothed one.
The kiss ends abruptly, leaving her wanting more. All of a sudden, he lifts her off the ground and slings her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. Her upper body hangs behind him, her ass in the air.
“What are you—?” she starts, but he lands a swift smack to her rear, ordering her to be quiet.
He carries her to the bedroom and tosses her on the bed, not bothering with gentleness, then flips her onto her stomach. While she finds her bearings, he bends down to grab something from his bag, which is sitting on the floor next to the bed.
A moment later, her wrists are pulled behind her back and cuffed together. His hands wrap around her ankles and yank her towards him until she’s bent over the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. She hears the clink of his belt buckle behind her.
It all happens so fast. One moment, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock over her entrance, and the next, his entire length is inside her. No warning. No preamble. A strangled moan escapes her mouth.
“So fucking wet,” he growls, grabbing on to her hips. “You like being manhandled and tossed around like a ragdoll?”
He doesn’t wait for her to answer before ramming his cock into her again. Usually, he’ll start slow and build up to a hard and fast pace, but today, he seems overcome by a primal desperation—one that has probably been festering inside him all day. She can barely keep up, but that makes it all the more exhilarating.
One hand pins her bound wrists to her lower back, keeping her in place, while the other grips her hair and yanks her head backwards, forcing her to arch her back. He finishes fast, emptying deep inside of her cunt, grunting and moaning with relief. She looks over her shoulder at him.
“That’s it? I didn’t even come,” she says just to egg him on.
He grabs a fistful of her hair again and speaks lowly into her ear, “What makes you think I give a fuck about your pleasure, hm? Sluts like you don’t deserve to come.”
He releases her hair and pulls out. Some of his come leaks down her inner thigh. Through the corner of her eye, she sees him reach down towards his bag. And then something cool and hard pokes between her legs. He presses the object into her slit, twisting it around, dousing it in her arousal and his come. It’s a plug, she realizes. A rather large one.
Once it’s covered in a mix of their fluids, he uses his free hand to spread apart her cheeks and starts inserting the plug into her tightest hole. He doesn’t really take his time. The rounded tip goes in, then the rest of it is hastily crammed into her. They’ve been doing this long enough that it slides in easily, but she still squirms and whines at the discomfort.
“Oh, stop whining,” he snaps. “It’s not even that big. You’ve had bigger things in your ass before.”
She scowls at him over her shoulder. “Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you try shoving one up your own ass?”
He retaliates with a harsh spank.
“Bold of you to talk back to me from the extremely vulnerable position you’re in right now,” he threatens, and the effects of his words are felt right between her legs.
He grabs something else from his bag, then tells her to open her mouth before shoving a ball gag in there. He secures the leather strap behind her head.
“That’s better,” he says. “Should’ve done that ten minutes ago. Only thing your mouth is good for is sucking me off anyway. Isn’t that right?”
All she can do is glare at him with the gag in her mouth.
“Glad you agree, love,” he says with a cocky smirk.
A soft, plushy object is placed in her hand—the squeaky toy they use in place of the safeword when she’s bound and gagged. Then he folds his belt in half and gently glides the cool leather over her bum. As soon as he raises the belt, she tenses and screws her eyes shut, bracing herself for the first strike. When it doesn’t come, she relaxes a bit and opens one eye, falling for the same trick he’s used on her countless times.
The belt smacks against her ass. She cries out. A second smack makes her knees buckle, dragging her down a bit.
“Stay still,” he orders.
It’s a good thing she’s gagged because she definitely would’ve answered back with a snarky comment and made things worse for herself.
He whips her with the belt several times in a row. Her ass clenches around the plug each time. He pauses only briefly to run his hands over the bright red marks now decorating her backside, like an artist proudly inspecting his work. And then he’s back to belting her, occasionally aiming for the backs of her thighs. There’s no doubt that sitting will be a challenge tomorrow.
Tears stain the sheets beneath her while her cunt drips with arousal, the pain cathartic and excruciating at the same time. She comes somewhere between the punishing blows, too lost in the pleasure to keep count.
He eventually stops and tosses the belt aside, telling her to get up on the bed. It’s a little awkward with her hands cuffed behind her, but she manages anyway. Once again, he yanks her around like a doll until he has her in his desired position: lying on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. Her hands are trapped under her but still free enough to squeak the toy if needed. He removes the gag from her mouth and instantly replaces it with his hard cock.
“Let’s put that whore mouth to good use,” he says as he begins fucking her mouth the same way he fucked her pussy earlier.
His tip connects with the back of her throat over and over, his large hands clawing at her breasts. He pinches and tugs at her nipples hard enough to make her body arch off the bed. Then he brings a hand to the front of her neck, squeezing it while his hips continue thrusting into her mouth. She presses her thighs together tightly.
Just when she thinks he’s going to come down her throat, he pulls out. She gasps for air. Finally, he takes off his own clothes and joins her on the bed, flipping her over onto her stomach. He uncuffs her wrists and cuffs them above her head instead, then lifts her up onto her knees and forearms.
She feels him tug on the base of the butt plug, fucking her with it a little before taking it out. He squirts a generous amount of lube between her cheeks and begins driving his cock into her ass but doesn’t get further than a couple inches. She’s too tense. It always seems to happen despite how many times they’ve done this.
“Gonna have to relax for me, love,” he says in the softest tone she’s heard him use all night. His hand caresses her lower back. He can be a dick sometimes, but he’s shockingly aware of when she needs a gentle touch.
“Give me a minute,” she says, steadying her breathing before telling him to continue.
He pushes in a bit more, then draws back and pushes in again, going a little deeper every time. Once the tightness in her muscles eases, he slides all the way in and holds himself there.
“Fuck,” she groans. “Fuck me.”
Her mind is so muddled by the intense sensation of her hole stretching around his cock that she almost doesn’t hear the word.
“Beg me to fuck your ass,” he demands.
“Fuck you,” she replies, though it comes out as more of a whine than an insult.
“I’m not moving an inch until you beg.” He grips her hips tightly to ensure that she can’t move either.
She doesn’t want to give in so quickly, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But as much as she hates to admit it, Harry’s dick makes her weak. And the worst part is he knows it too.
“Please, H, please fuck me. Your cock feels so good in my ass. I need you to fuck me hard and not hold back. Just— Fuck! Just use me for your pleasure. Please.”
Finally, Harry’s hips start moving. He retracts them, then thrusts forward sharply. She cries out in surprise and relief. He starts pounding into her. Quick, sharp thrusts. One after another. With little pause in between. She would reach down and rub her clit if her wrists weren’t bound together. Fortunately, Harry has the same thought. His hand finds her clit, rubbing it in fast circles to speed up her orgasm.
She feels it crash over her moments later, igniting in her core and spreading outward to her limbs. Harry continues fucking her through it, not slowing down for a second. He tells her he’s going to come in her ass, calling her his good little cumslut and his perfect little fucktoy and every filthy word in the book, becoming more and more incoherent until he finally lets go with a deep groan.
Rolling over onto the bed, he frees her wrists and tosses the cuffs to the side, not caring where they land. Y/N lets her knees give out under her and falls onto her stomach with a soft thud. She closes her eyes. A while later, his fingertips graze the back of her shoulder.
“Hey,” he says softly, “you good?”
She opens her eyes and grins. “Yup.”
“Wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“You know that’s how I like it.”
A pleased sigh leaves his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the stray curls off his damp forehead.
“Thanks for letting me come over,” he says. “I really needed that.”
“Aww, you needed me?” she teases, knowing how much he despises the idea of “needing” anyone.
He scoffs and looks away, but not before Y/N can notice the blush creeping into his cheeks.
You’re not typically an early bird, staying up late usually results in snoozed alarms and sleepy snuggles until you really have to leave the comfort of your bed. Today however, you’re up early and it’s probably because Harry is finally home and you feel like you shouldn’t miss any moment you get to spend with him before he needs to get back on the road.
Your boyfriend is sprawled out on his back, one arm above his head, the other one tucked under the pillow your head is resting on. The sheets has ridden down his torso, revealing the deliciousness of his naked chest that’s rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm as you watch him while lying on your side, taking in his beauty.
During the time you spend apart from him you always try your best not to dwell on how much you miss him, but whenever he is back home you realize just how badly you ache for his closeness when he’s away and how you never want him to leave again.
For a while you just look at him, admiring his side profile, his many tattoos, the gentle stubble on his face and the cheeky chest hair you’ve grown to love so much. But soon enough just watching is not enough, you can’t help but move closer, his butterfly tattoo pulling you closer like a magnet until your lips meet with it, peppering it with gentle, tiny kisses. Your hand wander up and down his side, then over his chest and to the base of his neck, fingers dancing along then chain of his necklace playfully.
You notice the moment he wakes up, you feel the change in him and you smile to yourself when he takes a deep breath and then you just keep kissing all over the butterfly. His left hand comes up to the back of your head, tangling through your hair.
“Good morning, Handsome,” you murmur against his soft skin, brushing your nose against his sternum.
“Mm, good morning,” he smiles, his eyes still closed as you push yourself up and your lips finally meet his in a sloppy, lazy morning kiss. “You’re up oddly early.”
He is usually the one to wake up first, sometimes he even goes for a quick run before you even pop an eye open. He doesn’t mind starting his day before yours, he often makes breakfast for the two of you and then maybe have a shower together. Mornings like that are your favorite.
“I know. Guess I was missing you in my sleep,” you hum, smiling against his lips before you lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arms around you.
“Is that so? Does it happen often?” he asks as he plays with a strand of your hair.
“All the time.”
“And what do you do then?”
You smile cheekily and rest your chin on his chest so you can look up at him.
“Do you want me to tell you or… show you?”
He looks down at you with hooded eyes as a smirk stretches across his face, his hand sneaking underneath your top, coming in contact with your naked skin.
“The latter. Definitely the latter.”
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just a little angst about better man (taylor's version)!
Sometimes in the middle of the night I can feel you again, but I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man.
You knew letting him past the front door was a bad idea, but you didn't always have the strongest resolve, especially when it came to your ex.
Harry was laying on the other side of your bed, his back turned to you as he slept soundly on familiar sheets. You should've been asleep, but it didn't come. So you stayed awake, staring at Harry's back as it rose and fell. You admired his broad shoulders, the constellation of freckles all over, the birthmark. It was a familiar canvas, but it wasn't yours anymore. Him being here didn't change that.
"I can feel you staring," Harry mumbled, words pushed together like he was still half asleep.
"Sorry," you said before turning over.
There were only a few beats of silence before you heard sheets rustling as Harry shifted and draped an arm across you. The scent of his cologne was dizzying as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
"Out with it then," he said, sounding a little more awake.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I know you, Y/n. You sleep like the dead unless something is on your mind."
He was right, of course, but that was part of the problem. He knew you too well.
"I just…miss you, that's all."
And God did you miss him. Harry was…well, you thought he was everything. For years, the two of you were inseparable, so incredibly in sync with each other. Harry brought out the best in you, made you comfortable in your own skin. He made you feel seen and taken care of and loved.
Until he didn't.
Breaking up with Harry was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It was messy, he didn't see it coming—which was another problem of its own—there were periods where you would somehow end up sleeping in each other's homes for days at a time afterwards, and the periods when those days ended felt soul crushing. Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself. Harry loved you, that was never a question. He just…he wasn't what you needed anymore.
"I miss you too. Constantly," he said. "But you don't have to, you know. Miss me. I've always been right here."
You kissed his arm. "I know, but we broke up for a reason, Harry."
He sighed, because he never could grasp why things ended, he couldn't figure out why you would ever want to leave him. As much as you loved each other, you were on different pages, wanted different things, became different people—or rather, he changed and you stayed the same. Harry was at a point in his career where the whole world was at his fingertips, and he wanted it too, wanted to reach and reach and reach. You didn't blame him for that, he was good at what he did, out of this world. But he'd made promises before, when he was just yours. When the world called, he changed his mind, and he wanted you to change yours with him.
Part of you knew that perhaps he'd made those promises out of fear of losing you, that he wasn't the type to believe in a simple kind of love. It always had to be more with Harry. And perhaps he wasn't aware, but you knew it was because he was afraid of love, of letting people see the worst parts of him along with the best. You knew that and fell in love with him anyway. He would be the one to break your heart but you let him do it happily.
"I love you. Can't that be enough?"
You did your best to hide a sniffle. "I wish it was, but something has always held you back from me," you said, your thumb running along his arm. "I won't settle for anything less than what I deserve."
"Then why keep letting me in?"
"Because you're a hard man to say no to, Harry Styles," you laughed, but it was more sad than humorous. Even as you talked about being apart, all you wanted to do was pull him even closer. In a lot of ways, Harry still felt like home. You were safe right there in bed wrapped up in him. "And despite my best efforts, I'm still in love with you."
Harry sighed and pulled you closer to his chest. "I want you. I can't even think about anyone else. It makes no sense for us to be broken up when we both want the same thing."
"But we don't," you said. "You want me on the sidelines cheering you on with no ambitions of my own."
"You want me to watch while others throw themselves at you and pretend like it's fine because it's all for show. You want me to be another trophy in your collection, Harry, and I—I'm so much more than that."
You twisted around to face him, only to find that there were tears lining his eyes. You hated seeing him cry. It always twisted your gut into a tight knot.
"Is that really what you think of me?" he asked, sounding hurt, betrayed.
"You told me you loved me, that you wanted me in your life, but I was never a part of it," you said.
Harry had promised that nothing would ever change, that he only wanted to take on the world if he had you by his side. And you believed him at first, but somehow you'd fallen to the wayside. He left you to fend for yourself at parties with people you didn't know, took on more opportunities and projects that kept him and you apart for longer periods of time, going out almost every night and sleeping through the day, leaving you such little time alone with him. Sometimes it felt like the only way to see him was in an interview or music video.
And the moments when you had him all to yourself were perfect. He was completely and totally yours. He doted on you, took you on dates, made you breakfast in bed. He made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and in those moments, you knew he loved you, that he would never be tempted by anyone else. Harry really was yours, you could feel it with every cell of your body.
But those moments were fleeting. He was gone for longer periods of time, and you didn't know how to make him understand that you needed him to stay longer than the few days off he got while touring. For a long time, those stolen moments were enough, until they weren't anymore. Harry stayed away longer, and you felt him slipping. The hand you had wasn't a winning one, so you folded before he could break your heart. Well, more than breaking up with him did.
This wasn't a life together, it was just his, and you were along for the ride.
"I wanted to build a life for us. I wanted to make myself into someone you would be proud of," he said.
Your smile was sad as you threaded a hand through his hair. "I've never not been proud of you. You've always been enough, H, I don't know why you've never seen it."
To say Harry was complicated was an understatement. Even when you met he had his fair share of demons. But everyone did, and you loved him as he was. As he began to gain notoriety, he began reinventing himself, to be someone that was loved by everyone. You knew who he was was enough, but you couldn't get through to him, he needed validation from the world. Once you realized how deep that insecurity was rooted, you knew you couldn't fix him, he needed to do it himself. And you deserved someone who wasn't so obsessed with seeking approval from others that they overlooked the people that loved them most.
"All I ever wanted was to give you the world," he whispered, his gaze trained on where your hand was still on his cheek.
"All I ever needed was you," you replied, moving your hand to rest it over his heart. "I'd like to believe that the man I met so many years ago is in there somewhere, but I can't count on waiting to see him again. I—I'm not going to put myself in a position to make you choose when I know what your choice would be."
You didn't really believe that fame was something that would ever change Harry, but it did. Or it preyed on his deepest insecurities, and he let it happen. You loved him, and it hurt to see him so broken, especially when he didn't even seem to realize it, but you couldn't hold his hand while he untangled his messes anymore.
"I love you," he said again. "I have never stopped loving you."
"I have seen every facet of who you are, and I've never loved you less, flaws and all," you said, and it was true. Despite everything, Harry was a hard person not to love, and there were moments where he made you feel like you were more important to him than anything else in his life. The secret smiles and stolen kisses and songs that were made just for you. He was the kind of person that burned so brightly, but that also meant he cast just as big a shadow, and those shadows could be all-consuming. "You're a good man, Harry. I just…I think I just deserve better than you."
Harry didn't argue with you about it. He didn't try to contradict you or give you a list of reasons why you should be together. He just hung his head and held you close, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. You let yourself rest your cheek against his chest, his skin warm and familiar. It felt so right to be there, you couldn't fathom anyone else feeling as good as Harry did. Maybe no one ever would.
Wrapped up like this, your eyes grew heavy, and it became harder and harder to stay awake. Harry hadn't fallen asleep yet, you could tell just by the erratic beat of his heart against your cheek. Moving your head just to the side, you kissed him right there, right where his heart laid beneath his chest. Your heart squeezed, as if it knew this was the last time you would be letting Harry through your front door.
Turning your head to the side once more, you let yourself fall asleep on his chest, a couple tears slipping past your tired eyes.
Still awake, Harry ran a hand through your hair, letting the silky soft strands fall through his fingers. "I can be better," he whispered. Not to you, but to himself. "I'll be better. I promise."
summary: in which Harry and y/n are forced to work together on a project despite their mutual hatred for one another | 4.7k words
a/n: make sure to read the part 1 first!! u guys are crazy, already over 300 notes on the first part??? i love y’all omg! anyways share your thoughts on this mini series so far, i'd love to hear it.
warning: enemies to lovers, slow burnish, mentions of ex, uni!harry, angst, harrys still a jerk, emotional abuse (lmk if i missed anything !!!)
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 (lmk if you guys want another part)
By some force of the universe, me and Harry were able to come up with an agreeable plan on where and when to meet. It was the second class when I saw Harry for the first time that week since Melissa and Niall's post-class drink at the bar. "Okay, so when do you want to work on the project?" I asked Harry, hoping to finally get this over with.
"I don't know, when are you free?" Harry responded with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"I have class in the mornings and work in the afternoons, so I'm pretty much free in the evenings," I reply, trying to keep my tone polite.
"Well, I have football (soccer) practice in the evenings, so that won't work," Harry says, sounding frustrated.
"Okay, how about this weekend?" I suggest.
"I have a game on Saturday, and I'm going out with friends on Sunday," Harry responds.
"Okay, what about Monday?" I ask, trying not to get too irked.
"I have a lab report due on Monday, so I'll be working on that all day," Harry says, sounding exasperated.
I can feel my patience running thin. "Harry, we need to work on this project. Can't you make time for it?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I am making time for it, I'm just busy," Harry retorts defensively.
I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. "Okay, what about Wednesday evenings? Can we meet at the library?"
Harry seems to consider this for a moment. "Yeah, I can do Wednesdays. What time?"
"Let's say seven pm at the library. Does that work for you?" I ask, feeling a glimmer of hope.
"Yeah, that works," Harry says, sounding more agreeable.
"Great, I'll see you there," I say, relieved that we've finally made a plan. We parted ways, feeling relief of not being in his presence anymore, but a looming swirl in my stomach for Wednesdays at seven pm.
As I walk into the library, I see Harry already sitting at a table with his laptop open and papers strewn across the table. I take a deep breath and walk over to him. "Hey," I say, trying to sound casual.
Harry looks up and gives me a nod. "Hey."
I pull out my laptop and start organizing my notes, I sense him watching me, his eyes like lasers that never stray. I try to ignore it and focus on my work, but it's hard not to feel self-conscious.
I steal a glance at him and see that he's furrowing his brows, staring intently at his laptop screen. I can't help but wonder what he's working on.
I try to break the silence. "So, what do you think we should focus on first?"
He looks up at me, his expression still serious. "I was thinking we could start with the literature review."
I nod and we both turn back to our laptops, starting to work on our individual tasks. I bathe in the awkward atmosphere between us, but I don't know how to break it. “Does he want us to-”
Before I could even finish my sentence, I was interrupted, “Listen, if you're going to show up late, at least have the decency to be prepared and know what to do,” He emptily stares.
Astonished, I checked the time on my phone. I haven't even been here for a full five minutes and he's already made a cynical remark, “It's literally 6:58, we agreed to meet at seven. I am not even late, frankly we’re both here early.” I am genuinely at a loss of words, it wasn't like I was going out of my way to make small talk with him, just trying to make sure I was doing the right section before putting my time and focus on it. Ok fine let's not talk. Rubbing away the headache that's beginning to form, and shift my body to not being directly in view of Harry to ease my own tensions. Someone shoot me now.
Though the rest of the time surprisingly goes by smoothly, aka we did not bicker with each other because well we did not talk at all. It was to the point where I just highlighted and commented on the document instead of voicing my opinions, too defeated to even attempt starting up a conversation.
I would steal glances at Harry and catch him staring at me. His eyes quickly dart away as he clears his throat, pretending to be engrossed in the book in front of him. I try to shake off the impression that he's judging me, but I can't help feeling self-conscious.
I can tell that Harry is an intelligent and dedicated student, and I don't want to disappoint him with my lack of knowledge on the subject. My writing portion was filled with highlighted one word comments from Harry letting me know to fix minor spelling errors or content information. I begin to doubt myself, wondering if I'm even capable of completing this project.
As the minutes tick by, we both continue to work in silence. I try to focus on the task at hand, but my mind keeps wandering to Harry. I wonder what he's thinking, what he's feeling, and why he seems so distant. Sue me for trying to understand why as such a people pleaser, this man was quite the opposite of pleased with me. And yes I know you can't please everyone, but at least I can make them not hate me.
Harry seems content with the silence, no efforts of wanting to break through the wall that's separating us.
An hour rolled by, and we both began to pack up our things and prepare to leave the library. Sure I was disappointed in still being in square zero with Harry, but we both managed to be in the same small shared space without actively ripping at eachothers throats, so there's a win.
As it comes to no surprise Melissa and Niall officially started dating. Granted they have been basically dating this whole time but did not want to label it so quick after meeting. Melissa and I were having a girls night at our place when she “broke” the news. It was a much needed girls night, being able to spend some quality time after beginning the semester that has already managed to exhaust us with the amount of studying and assignments we have to do.
We had the wine flowing and our favorite rom-coms queued up, ready to go. Pizza has been ordered and a striking idea was composed to create a fort in the living room to lay in to watch the movies. I blame the wine for the way we’re acting as little school girls, struggling to push the couch to make room, gathering all the cushions and blankets we could find. Melissa skips back in the room with fairy lights that she is determined to hang on top of the many blankets we used to construct the roof of the fort. Once successful, we both stand back to admire our very warm, cozy, and somehow still standing fort, feeling very carefree and happy.
"Do you remember when we tried to make that homemade pizza and it turned out terrible?" Melissa randomly strikes up.
"Oh my gosh, how could I forget? We almost burned the whole complex down," I chuckle wide-eyed at the memory. We both dissolve into laughter. “Which is why we’re ordering pizza this time” I add with a stern pointed look.
Pizza soon arrived after, we nestled inside the fort, cuddling as we watched the movies, We laughed and cried along with the characters on the screen. It's moments like these that make me grateful for Melissa's friendship. She always knows how to make me feel better and lift my spirits. Before long the movie became background noise as we chatted away. Lying on the floor with our feet sticking out, we talk about everything and nothing.
"So, I have some news," she says with a beaming smile . "Niall and I are officially dating!"
“What? No way!” I faked a shock expression, my hands cupping my face to add dramatic effect. Melissa shoves me slightly, crimson coating her face. “But really, that's amazing!" I exclaim. "I'm so happy for you two!" I feel a warmth in my chest, knowing that one of my closest friends has found someone who makes her happy.
Melissa's face lights up even more at my response. "Thanks, Y/N! I'm so excited about it. He's really amazing, you know?" I can't help but feel a sense of pride for Melissa. She deserves to be with someone who treats her well, someone who respects and supports her in all that she does. And from what she's told me and what I’ve seen about Niall, he seems like an incredible guy. Melissa goes on to tell me all about how they became official, the sweet things he's done for her, and how happy she feels when she's with him. I listen intently, feeling genuinely interested in her story and eager to hear more.
As the night went on, we finished the bottle of wine and the conversation shifted to me when Melissa brought up the topic of my ex-boyfriend and how he had treated me. I confided in her about the emotional abuse I had suffered during our relationship and how I was struggling to move on from it.
I remember the first time Riley said something hurtful to me. At first, he was charming and funny, but then he became unrecognizable. The person I loved slowly turned into someone who would always cut me down with his words. It started with small jabs, but it quickly escalated to full-blown emotional abuse. He would constantly criticize me, belittle me, and make me feel like I was nothing without him. Every time I tried to stand up for myself, he would twist my words and make me feel like I was the crazy one. The worst part was that he knew exactly what to say to tear me down and make me doubt myself. I lost all my confidence, and it took me a long time to realize that his words had an impact on me.
Melissa listened to me and offered me her support, telling me how proud she was of me for standing up for myself and getting out of the relationship. I'm genuinely happy for her and Niall, but a small part of me can't help but feel a little envious. I want what she has, someone who loves and cares for me just as much as Niall does for her.
Melissa notices my change in demeanor and quickly reassures me. "Don't worry, Y/N. You'll find someone amazing, just like I did with Niall. You deserve nothing but the best." Her words make me feel better, and I smile gratefully at her, I couldn't imagine going through something like that without her. I feel appreciative for this moment, this time spent with my friend, just talking and enjoying each other's company.
Eventually, we started to get tired, and we decided to sleep in our little makeshift fort for the night. As we lay there feeling safe and warm, I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was to have Melissa in my life, someone who was always there for me and made me feel loved and supported. She was my rock, my confidant, and my best friend. And even though life can be challenging and uncertain, I know that as long as we have each other, we'll be okay. The night had been just what I needed to unwind and feel a little more like myself again.
And with a blink of an eye, Wednesday evening has rolled around. I poked my head out slightly before I stepped out of my apartment, scanning the hallway for any sign of Harry. With my luck that the universe seems to give me and enjoy, I would run into him more than needed. I mean it is already bad enough that we live in the same off-campus building, but better yet his apartment is two doors down from mine. Although I find it pretty funny not that I am the one constantly on guard when it comes to him, even his name alone brings an unwanted anxiety in my stomach, and no not the butterflies type, more like flies.
Despite our horrible first couple interactions, I would still attempt to engage him in conversation to just be civilized, yet again like all the other times he would shut me down with a sharp one-word comment. It was frustrating and hurtful especially as we were doing this for our best friends, I would not fathom what I even did to him to get him to not like me. Eventually though, I stopped trying, there was no reason for me to go out of my way to make it bearable to be in his presence, and just gave him the same energy back. I would dismiss him if he ever, which he didn’t really, talk to me, and when we would converse it was jabs being thrown at one another much to Melissas and Nialls disappointment.
As I make my way down the hallway, I see Harry step out of his apartment wearing his usual scowl and fitted clothes that look so good on him, his curls framing his face. I can't deny that he's attractive, but I can't stand his personality. I groan internally as he notices me and starts walking towards me with a sly grin accompanying him. Talk about luck, oh the universe just loves to laugh and cause unnecessary problems for me.
This has happened a handful of times since I learned that Harry is quite literally living in such close quarters to me. Leaving to attend class, I would see him also exiting his apartment, then would have to retreat back inside to give me a couple minutes until I know he's far enough I won't run into him going to campus. Or when I sprinted to catch the elevator before it shut, just to find out Harry is inside and the one who held his hand out to halt the doors from closing on me. Yet once he realized it was me who aided in not missing the elevator he would groan and retreat his hand back so quickly that it gave me whiplash.
"Evening, Muffin," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm once he reaches me. My jaw clenches as I bite my lip from making a comment and giving him the satisfaction of knowing it still bothers me. That stupid name. The nickname was born when I sent a muffin flying across the lecture classroom. I was walking into the lecture hall with a muffin in one hand and my notes in the other. But, as soon as I took a step, I tripped on my own foot and sent the muffin flying out of my hand. It went rolling down the aisle and ended up right at Harry's feet.
He picked up the muffin, examining it for a moment before turning to me with a smirk. "Well, well, well, look who we have here. Muffin."
I groaned in embarrassment and tried to play it cool. "Ha ha, very funny, Harry," I said, rolling my eyes.
But he continued to tease me throughout the lecture, calling me Muffin every chance he got. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment, and I could tell that everyone around us was starting to notice. After class, I confronted Harry about his constant teasing. "Why do you have to be so annoying all the time, Harry?" I asked, frustrated.
He just laughed. "Come on, Muffin, don't be mad. It's just a nickname. Besides, you have to admit, it's kind of fitting after what happened earlier."
I scowled at him, but secretly, I couldn't help but find his teasing a little bit endearing. It was the only time Harry had happened to be smiling and laughing in front of me, though it still came at my own expense. "Fine, but only if you promise to stop calling me that in public," I said, crossing my arms, throwing my head back to display my annoyance.
Harry grinned. "Deal. But in private, you're still Muffin to me." He winked. And with that, he walked away, leaving me blushing and shaking my head. What the hell was that?
We continue down the apartment hallway in silence, heading to the library to work on our assignment. The destination not far enough for me to make the effort to dig through my backpack for my headphones to tune out the slightly uncomfortable silence that looms over us. Harry constantly bumps into me as we walk down the path. From knowing Harry for the amount of time I have, I learned this man cannot walk properly and always ends up diagonally regardless of the path being a straight shot. “Quit it” I exclaim, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to let him go ahead.
When we get there, we both make a beeline to the table in the back corner, far away from any distractions, the only thing we managed to silently agree on when we first began working together. I pull out my laptop and start typing away, trying my best to ignore Harry's presence. But of course it's not long before we start bickering. Harry keeps interrupting me, criticizing my ideas and telling me what to do.
"I don't understand why you can't just listen to my ideas for once," I speak calmly and steadily, masking the exasperation I feel.
"Because your ideas are terrible," Harry retorts, his tone laced with mockery. "Honestly, do you even know what you're talking about?"
I gritted my teeth, my annoyance with him growing by the second. "Of course I know what I'm talking about, Harry. I've done my research, and I think my ideas are just as valid as yours."
He lets out a loud scoff, his eyes narrowing. "Please, Y/N. Your ideas are about as useful as a chocolate teapot." It's quite clear that we don't see eye-to-eye on anything.
Fists clenching as the feeling of anger boils inside of me. "You know what, Harry? Maybe if you weren't so closed-minded and actually listened to me, we could make some real progress on this project."
He leans back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "I think I'll stick to my own ideas, thanks. At least they won't lead us down the path of failure." The more he speaks I feel my muscles tightening, god can he just shut up.
“Well if you stopped interrupting me then maybe this could be over and done with, then we won't have to see each other.”
"What's your problem?" he snaps.
"You're my problem," I fire back. "You can't just come in here and take over. We're supposed to be working together."
“Well if you could stop being incompetent, then I wouldn't have to consistently fix everything you do wrong.” I bristle at his words, feeling a familiar sense of inadequacy creeping up on me. I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that this argument isn't going anywhere. Working with Harry was definitely a real challenge, but only a couple more weeks left so I let out a breath trying to calm myself.
Harry's words send a wave of emotions through me, hitting me where they hurt. My confidence has been struggling ever since my ex-boyfriend, Riley. He was always quick to belittle me, making me feel stupid and useless. I remember countless nights spent in tears, trying to make sense of his hurtful words. His snide comments about my appearance, intelligence, and even my hobbies always cut deep. It's like he took pleasure in seeing me suffer. He made me doubt myself at every turn, and it's taken me so long to regain the self-confidence he stole from me. He was always putting me down and telling me I wasn't good enough. And now, Harry's words are triggering those same feelings.
“Fuck you.” Reaching for my papers, books, and laptop, I began packing it all up wanting to get the hell out of there as possible. My face flushed with anger but also my head swarming with not only Harry's comment but also Rileys words he would throw at my face. My throat felt like it was closing up on me as I swing my bag over onto my shoulders. I rush out of the library leaving no room for Harry to spew out another jab.
The sound of jingling keys unlocking my apartment was the only thing I could focus on, trying to avoid the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks from exposing me to my entire floor. With a pounding heart and blood rushing not helping my case, I finally got the door unlocked and shoved inside. Why did Harry have to be so rude and condescending all the time? I hated him, I really did. And yet, here I was, stuck working with him on this project.
Sitting in the living room, gaping at me stunned was both Melissa and Niall, immediately noticing my red, puffy eyes. Melissa sprang from her cozy spot next to Niall on the couch, sensing my distress as soon as I walked in the door, and rushed towards me, enveloping me in a much needed hug with a comforting hand on my back. “What's wrong?” Niall questioned, I looked up from Melissa's tight embrace and noticed Niall removing my backpack, then leading all of us back to the couch.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words just won't come out. My heart is racing, and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I take another deep breath and try again. I couldn't bring myself to tell them what had happened with Harry, so I just muttered something about feeling overwhelmed and stressed out, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Is it because of Harry?" Melissa probed gently, knowing me too well.
I scoffed. "Of course it's because of Harry. He's impossible to work with, always criticizing everything I do."
Niall spoke up, "I know he can be a bit grumpy, but he's really not a bad guy once you get to know him. Maybe you guys just need to put your differences aside and work together for the sake of the project."
“Differences!?” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air, “I wish it was about differences, he's always attacking me. Half the time, no wait, every time, I did nothing wrong.” My voice begins to shake as I look at Melissa silently communicating with her, knowing she understood.
“Is this about Riley?” She questioned but ultimately knew the answer. I gave a weak nod, Niall giving a tight lip reaction. He knew what happened between Riley and I, drunk me one night decided he should know, and now he does. Niall was someone you can get close with quickly, one of the easiest people to talk to and always made me laugh. He always had a listening ear and gave the best advice. Our friendship bloomed, and I found myself comfortable with him knowing about Riley when confiding in with Melissa. There was just something about Niall and Melissa that made me feel comfortable and safe.
“I don't know, Harry's words tend to trigger and start to sound like stuff Riley would say to me too.” I lean my head on Melissa, “It's just that I finally found myself after Riley tore me down and now it feels like I am back again where I started, except with Harry.”
“I'll talk to him,” Niall declares, eyes bright.
“NO! Don't say anything I rather he does not have another thing to spin around back at me,” I huff. Appreciating Niall's attempt to help but knowing that conclusively would be worse in the end. “Guess I'll just stick through this stupid assignment and then really just never speak to him again - no offense Niall.”
“Yeah, I dont get why he's such a dick to you,” Niall agrees, though I notice a flash of realization in Niall's eyes but it went as quickly as it came. Truth was, I didn't have much of a choice. I needed to pass this class, and Harry was my assigned partner. So, with a heavy sigh, I agreed to give it another try.
Over the next few days, with Melissa and Niall's encouragement, Harry and I went back to our usual dynamic. Harry didn’t necessarily apologize for his words, but his rude and unnecessary comments did subdued, which meant mine did too. Look, mine were just self defensive against his attacks, uh usually. It's almost like he realizes how much he's hurt me with his words, and he tries to keep them in check. It's a small effort, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Granted we were still sarcastic and snarky with each other. We continue to work on our project together, but don't get me wrong, there's still an underlying tension between us.
Lying in bed, I scroll through my phone, procrastinating the work I should be doing, when a notification pops up from a groupchat with Melissa, Niall, and an unknown number. I furrow my eyebrows, wondering what this might be about, I click on the chat and read the message.
Melissa: Hey guys!
How about bowling tomorrow?
Niall: It’s been a while since we've all hung out
It’ll be so much fun
Unknown: Can’t sorry I got stuff
Niall: Shut up Harry no you don’t
I literally know your whole schedule
My heart drops as I realize what's happening. The unknown number clearly Harry could only mean one thing, Melissa and Niall are trying to get Harry and me to hang out more outside of class. My mind starts racing with thoughts. This is not a good idea, what the hell are they thinking?
I shot out of bed and pace around my room. I began typing, searching for a believable excuse to get out of this.
Me: Sounds fun, but I’ll have to check my schedule
I scour my mind for something that Melissa wont call my bluff on, but before I could, she already sixth-sensed it.
Melissa: Y/N don't worry I already checked for you :)
Niall: Wow perfect, who knew we were all free
It’s a plan
Me: You both are insufferable together
Harry: I can hardly contain my excitement (this is sarcasm fyi)
A notification buzzes letting the group know that Harry had reacted to my message with the two exclamation points bubble effect. I laughed over the fact Harry felt the need to explain his sarcasm over text.
Melissa: We love you guys too <3
Both me and Harry disliked Melissa’s message.
I flop back onto my bed and groan, staring up at the ceiling. I know Melissa and Niall well, but the thought of being in a noisy, crowded bowling alley with Harry, pretending like my existence doesn't bother him, for reasons still unknown, makes me feel sick.
Uneasy thoughts race through my mind: What if I do something stupid and embarrass myself in front of him, again? I would rather not have another nickname arise. What if this makes things worse? What if I just don't show up? Well now that could work, wait no except Melissa will probably track me down and drag me there herself.
With a sigh, I toss my phone aside, trying to rid the thoughts of tomorrow to save the last piece of peace I have left.
a/n: whew so harry is still a jerk. please let me know how you feel about this story so far, I'd love to hear your thoughts! feedback, likes, replies, repost are ALWAYS appreciated :)
also another side note part 3 will take a bit longer to post since (1) i haven’t started writing it yet (2) i have a HUGE exam this Wednesday which i have been procrastinating to study for but i really don’t know anything so that will be where my focus lies for the next days
if u read this far then ur a real one haha sorry for my blabbering, love you all, my little muffins lol
hey! if you're up for it...could we get an update on mr. and mrs. hey soul sister? i miss them and i wanna know what they're up to 😭
“Harry…put it down.”
“Harry…put the goddamn remote down.”
Your blood boils as you huff a stray piece of hair from your eye. “Harry…I’m giving you two seconds to either put the remote down or turn the video off before I take action.”
Unphased but exceedingly amused, Harry’s brow raises as he regards you from his hiding spot in the kitchen. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do, hm?”
Already equipped for a fight, you reach into your back pocket to slip your last resort free.
Harry’s eyes widen once he realizes what you’re holding, and you watch him visibly swallow. “Lovie…don’t.”
But you’ve already got a finger underneath the flap of the envelope, ready to pop it free and investigate the contents inside. “Put the remote down…and I won’t.”
He hesitates, focus flicking between the weapon in your hand and the horrific video he’s got pulled up on the television. “I…but I…”
“Okay…I’m opening it,” you warn, sliding your nail even further along the sticky glue.
“Wait!” He’s breathing heavier now, face flushing as he weighs his options. “Okay, wait—wait. Let’s just…let’s compromise, yeah? Just…just watch the beginning with me, and then I’ll turn it off—”
“Eh. Wrong answer,” you interject, shaking the envelope fervently. “Last chance, buddy. Drop it or I look inside.”
A glare begins to settle onto his expression as he presses his palms into the kitchen island to brace himself. “Lovie…don’t do this.”
“And why not?”
His lips purse. “Because…if you do…no more midnight ice cream runs.”
You gasp. “You wouldn’t.”
You debate this. You like to imagine you know your husband pretty well, but these past few weeks have slowly introduced a new man into your life.
One you aren’t quite sure you can trust yet.
“Drop the remote and we’ll be fine,” you argue instead.
With narrowed eyes, he lifts the clicker into the air, aims it at the TV…and hits, “Play.”
The video begins again, the wretched sounds sending a chill down your spine as you gasp.
He called your bluff.
The fucking asshat.
Furious, you bring your bargaining chip closer, and wrench the lip back to peer inside the small sleeve.
“Lovie…” Harry attempts to warn, now slipping around the counter to approach you cautiously.
But it’s too late. You’ve already seen it.
Your skin flushes as you reach inside to retrieve the small photo, pulling it out so you can get a better look.
Warily, Harry regards you from across the room, slowing to a stop as he attempts to gauge your reaction.
You don’t speak for at least a minute, the silence filling with the dreadful sounds still blaring from the speakers.
Your heart is pounding inside your chest. A hundred and one thoughts swimming around in your head as you attempt to pull yourself back to the present. To understand this impossible to understand new reality.
“Well?” Harry’s timid voice slips through the cracks of your trance, forcing your head up.
You blink. “It’s…”
He takes another step, and you can see the curiosity paint itself across his face. “What?”
You swallow. “It’s a girl.”
He practically glitches, stilling right where he stands as he looks at you.
You wonder if he heard you. “Har…?”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “It’s…it’s a…it’s a girl?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, lip between your teeth as you turn the photo around for him to see. “Yeah, it’s a girl.”
The moment his eyes land on his future daughter, you watch his entire world change.
He strides the rest of the way to you, plucking the photo out of your hand to give it a quick once over before he looks at you.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, and you laugh as future tears begin to crawl up the back of your throat.
“Yeah,” you agree. “Holy shi—”
But he’s already putting his mouth on yours and pulling you into your arms before you can even finish your sentence. Your feet leave the floor as he spins you around, and you can’t help but laugh as he plants sweet, excited kisses all across your face.
Once he finally concedes to setting you back down, you put a hand over your heart. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby.”
“Oh, I can,” he retorts. “Knew it the moment I met you in the bar that night. I knew you’d be my future baby-mama.”
You can’t help but snort as you shove at his chest. “Ha. Very funny.”
“Speaking of which…this baby is gonna have the absolute best introduction to music,” he continues, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear. “She’ll have my perfect pitch, and your tone-deaf taste—”
“All right,” you huff, shoving at him again as he laughs. “I will raise this baby by myself if I have to.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He responds to your challenging glare with a kiss. Sweeter this time around. Purposeful. He’s not always good with words, but you can feel everything that he wants to say in this kiss.
It’s you two against the world.
Well…you three, now.
“I love you,” he says after a moment, forehead pressed to yours as if desperate to be close to you forever.
“I love you, Mr. Hey Soul Sister,” you tease, feeling rather proud of the way he grins. “Now…can you please turn that god-awful video off?”
He glances over his shoulder toward the woman giving birth on your television. “But why? It’s informational—”
“It’s graphic,” you argue for the hundredth time, brushing past him to find the remote. “Yeah, yeah, miracle of life and all that, but we are never having sex again, I’m just telling you that right now. Never, ever, ever, ever, eve—”
Your spiel is cut short by a pair of large arms wrapping around your waist to lift you back up into the air and drag you out of the kitchen right before you can reach the clicker.
“Har…Harry!” you gasp as he carries you to the bedroom. “What are you doing?”
“We can start the no-more-sex rule tomorrow,” he says simply before you’re being—gently—dropped onto the bed. “Until then, celebration is in order.”
You laugh as he begins pressing kisses down your chest. “Harry—”
“I believe it’s Daddy…to you,” he smirks, and despite yourself, you feel a hitch in your breath.
Nerves aside, you tangle your fingers in his hair to bring him closer. You wouldn’t want to be doing this with anybody else, and you’re so grateful he burned those divorce papers all those years ago.
And even more grateful he married you that fateful night.
Who would have thought you two would find yourselves here?
“Okay, Daddy,” you purr, pleased with the look on his face. “Let’s celebrate.”
And that’s all he needs to hear.
I wanted to write this in a way that lets you decide if they're pregnant, have a surrogate, or if they're adopting, and hopefully you feel free to imagine whatever form of pregnancy you want to! Each is beautiful, special, and so unique, especially to these two💞
Y/N L/N (34) is going to be a mother again!. It appears the actress is expecting a child with fiance Harry Styles (29). "We’re already so in love with him and he’s not even here yet" she captioned the post on Instagram.
The Oscar winning actress revealed this Friday she was pregnant again by posting a picture on instagram. In the picture, Y/N is standing on a green meadow. Lifting up the white shirt, a growing belly peeks out. According to People, it was Harry who took the picture of his fiancé.
Among those congratulating in the comments section are some of Harry’s and Y/N’s peers. And it appears the couple aren’t revealing exactly when their baby is due or how far along Y/N is.
It’s unclear when and how the couple met, the bottom line is that Harry and Y/N have known each other through mutual friends since 2018 but got together sometime in January of 2021.
The pair made their first red carpet debut together on September 2022 at the 79th Venice international film festival And they looked, to say the least, in love
This is Harry’s first child together with the actress, who he proposed to secretly last November, after dating for nearly two years.
This isn’t Y/N’s first child however, as she already has two sons, D’Angelo (10) and Xavier (7) from a previous relationship with a non-famous man.
The couple have kept any plans for the wedding date a secret but according to some of our sources they will tie the knot sometime in late 2023.
hi. a long awaited and need part 9 thank you all so much for all the love and support i appreciate you all so so so much. thank thank you thank you a special thank you to @cherryscinema :D CHECK OUT HER BLOG BTW SHES THE BEST ! i love love you thank you so much for helping me out with this part :) have a great week all of you ! i love love you i hope ur all doing amazing !
anyways talk to me in the asks ! don’t be shy friends let’s talk about anything and everything at anytime ! if you want to be added to the tag list don’t forget to ask !
let me know what you think of this part it was awfully draining to write :O don’t forget here’s the series masterlist !
song for this chapter ! this is me trying by our queen and savior ! taylor swift ! don’t forget to check out the series playlist
Anne rushed to Harry’s place after hearing his broken voice on the phone. She was close to her son this time and urged to comfort him and hold him in the way she knew he needed and wanted. She was his mother, it was her job to take care of him under any circumstances and decisions that he might have had, and throughout it all it was her job to comfort him and love him through it all. That’s why Anne was currently on the short drive from Y/N’s house to her son’s house to comfort him while he breaks in her arms.
Y/N was left confused much less than concerned in the bathroom with her dog soaked in the bathtub. Anne had taken the call, heard Harry’s tone and practically rushed out her door telling her that if she wasn’t back tonight that she would see her in a few days. She worried more so for Anne and the condition she had been left with after she had taken the call. She had never seen her in such a shaken worried state and in tears from simple words that had come out of her son. Y/N only let her mind wander to what Harry could have possibly gotten himself into before she stopped herself from drowning in concern and worry. She knew it wouldn’t be good for her and she also knew that she didn’t want to touch the topic of Harry that wandered freely in her mind. If Harry chose not to be around her at the point she needed him the most then why should she offer him herself in support of him when he abandoned her in such a way?
She knew she was better off being alone with her dog then running back into Harry’s arms even if she still was in love with him. Eventually the love she had for him would fade, but that would only occur if she simply never fell into his arms again. And if she had gone up to his house with Anne she knew she would be falling for him just as hard as it was to get over him. It seemed unmanageable to get over Harry in the past, but being 5 months pregnant and occupied with the attention of work and a dog, she seemed to be getting over him slowly, with only a few occasional thoughts of him here and there.
Of course Y/N could go on her own without Anne for a few days. She had done so for most of her pregnancy so far she only had occasional visits from Anne when given her ultrasounds dates. And that was her main concern, the fact she had an appointment in two days and she didn't know if Anne would be there or not. She assumed herself that if Harry was in a desperate measure of comfort, Anne would be spending the rest of her stay days that would be with her with Harry. That’s what brought her to main worry, dealing with being in a hospital on her own. Her and hospitals do not have a good history which is why she despises any form of doctor or appointment that requires her going to a hospital. Whenever she was forced to have an appearance in such a place she used to drag Harry with her, but now she had Anne, and with Anne she felt as if she didn’t need Harry which is probably why she felt as if she was getting over him slowly as well.
“Worst comes to worst Cuddles” Y/N lifts the dogs legs from the tub he was happily in, “We’ll just call Gemma right” She groans as she finally gets Cuddles out of the bathtub in front of her, “Stay here” She tells him pointedly with a smile, “I’m going to go get your towel.” The one thing about Cuddles, was that for a dog, he was spoiled. He had the biggest playing area in her backyard, the biggest playing area in her home, a big dog bed, and an even bigger collection of toys. That wasn’t only her fault, everyone around her loved the dog, he had a charm that no other dog seemed to have and that’s what made Cuddles even more special to her. She makes her way back into the bathroom where Cuddles was sitting with a dog smile plastered on his face and barking when she sees him. “Okay here’s what you’re gonna do” She points at him with a smile, “You’re either going to follow me, or you’re going to go sleep in your bed. Got it?” She asks him and almost like he understands her he barks in response.
Y/N makes her way back into the in progress nursery room right next to her room and takes a brief look around the room. Anne and herself had managed to paint the room the cutest shade of green that simply warmed Y/N’s heart, and she knew that everything else she had to add into the room was only going to warm her heart even more. All she wanted was the best and perfect place for her baby and she hoped that by building this nursery she was in the right direction in providing the perfect place for her baby. Taking a breath she plops herself onto the floor of the room, and drags over the box of the crib that’s near her briefly looking over the box before simply tearing it open. “‘I’ve got to start somewhere don’t I?” She says to herself before she's taking out every type of wood assortment in the box. Before she can talk to herself again she hears the patter of Cuddles running his way into the room. She turns over at the noise and soon enough he’s right in the doorway, “Alright Buddy” She calls him over, “We’re in for a long one with this” She points to the crib box, “So If i were you I would just watch, cause one of has got to do the building and I think that would be” She laughs lightly knowing that the dog doesn’t understand her at all but yet feeling the support he has to offer into the space of the room that will soon enough home the new best friend of her and the dog.
As for Anne, true like her thoughts had told her she was sitting on the floor right next to her son’s doorway with her son falling right apart in her arms. She felt bad for him, regardless if she knew the background of the state he was in. Looking around her son’s home she felt crushed and broken herself seeing the several broken items, vases, pictures, anything and everything seemed to be broken on her son’s floor. It wasn’t until she saw that every picture frame that was broken on her son’s floor were pictures of him and Fallon. Every other picture he had among his walls on furniture, they were all in place except the ones with none other than Fallon.
She had rushed out of Y/N’s house so quickly she almost got lost on her way to Harry’s home. She had left Y/N’s place so quickly she never even had a second thought on what Y/N would say or do when she left her house. But a part of her knew the girl wouldn’t mind much if she was rushing out to help her son. Through the days Anne would spend with Y/N she saw the girl shift in no longer relying on the support system Harry had offered her for so long. Y/N seemed to be moving on, and Anne was not shy to admit the fact that she was proud of her for doing so. She knew the hurt Harry had caused Y/N she watched the girl fall apart for days over the thought and mention of her son. The question of what was going through Y/N’s mind as she rushed out her doorway never really came to Anne because she was so set on getting to her son. Much like she had to comfort Y/N when she lost Harry, it was Anne’s job to comfort her son and that’s what she was going to do.
Anne felt bad. She felt terrible and a part of herself wanted to feel guilty. She was a mother she was allowed to hurt when her son was falling apart in her arms. But never did she want her son to hurt like this, she had seen Y/N hurt like this too much and guilt had always drowned her body, to see her son hurting like this made her feel sick. Anne knew her son had not been the best person on the face of the earth within the past months, but even acknowledging and knowing so she knew he didn’t deserve to be in such pain as he was in. Harry wasn’t even letting out words to his mother, it was much simply sobs, and mumbles of words she couldn’t put together.
She gathered he was clearly intoxicated upon seeing the several bottles laid around him, and it only made her feel more resentment towards her son. She couldn’t exactly pin out why she felt so bad for him, maybe it was because he was her son, But deep down she knew that regardless if she liked to admit it or not, her son had this looking out towards himself. Harry abandoned Y/N so easily and watching it all hurt Anne more than it seemed to hurt Harry, and he seemed now to be hurting the way Y/N did and never did Anne want to see Y/N or Harry, and even Gemma go through a pain like this ever. Yet again here Anne was watching one of her children fall apart in her arms and feeling complete resentment at the person in her arms.
“Harry” She lets her hand run through his hair, “Love you have got to calm down” She tries to soothe him, but when she looks down she’s not even met with her son’s eyes, only the dark color of his hair was what her eyes saw. “Come on, Harry” She sighs lightly trying to at least get him to look up at her.
This time, Harry responds, and Anne can actually put together the two words he lets out from his mouth. “I’m alone” He cries into his mother.
“Oh Harry” Anne feels tears consume her vision, her son has no idea that this was the exact fear of his best friend, the same pain he caused her, he is now feeling on his own, “You’re not alone” She as soft as possible tries to reassure her son, “You’ve got me, Gemm-”
“But I don’t have them mum!” Harry pushes himself out of the seemingly tight hold his mother has on him. He wanted his mother to comfort him, but he was letting his frustration from his pain take over him, and Anne knew she knew her son constantly did this in his emotional outbursts.
“Harry” She got up and tried to make her way closer to her son wanting to hold him in her arms to comfort him, but Harry simply kept moving away and began to pace the open area in front of his mother.
“They’re both gone” He shook his head, “I’m alone” He repeated to himself. Anne tried to get his attention while he chanted the same words to himself only causing him to break further.
Only when it got to the point that Harry had repeated the words, “I’m alone” so much to himself it started to break Anne and that was when Anne simply went up to her pacing son and wrapped her arms around him to soothe his words. Like always the boy simply fell into her embrace.
“Love there are so many people out there” She whispers to her son as he shoves his face into his mother’s neck. “There’s so many people that are going to here with you, I promise you Harry you’re never going to be alone”
“I lost the two girls I wanted the most in my life mum” He cried to his mother desperately, “I only wanted them!”
Anne immediately knew he was referring to both Y/N and Fallon. Her heart ached for him, she knew he had led himself into losing Y/N but never did she expect or want to hear that her son would go through the heartbreak of Fallon so soon after. She couldn’t possibly imagine the hurt he was feeling knowing that he deemed Fallon as the one he was meant to be bonded with forever. She couldn’t imagine it and the best she could ever do was comfort him.
Anne didn’t have much to respond to Harry with his desperate pleas and words. “Harry” She grabbed her son’s face from the place in her neck, wiping his tears “You’ll be okay, I’m here, love” Harry only cried harder at her words and her heart only ached more for her son.
After silent moments of his sobs, Anne finally decided that it was time to try her best and get her son to sleep. She knew the man could only soothe his pain and cries if he went to sleep, he wouldn’t have to face the pains he was enduring himself in. “Let's get you to bed darling” She continued to run her hands through his messy short hair. When she felt his head nodding to her she sighed in relief, and soon enough the two of them were making their way up the stairs to get into bed. Anne watched her son take slow steps across his room, picking out his pajamas and looking around as if he was so unaware of his surroundings, and her heart broke even more. Her son didn’t seem to be feeling at home in his own home.
Harry walked over to his desk, leaving Anne confused as to what he could possibly be looking for in such a place at such a time. But when he stopped in front of the desk her heart broke even more than it already had been. Anne watched as Harry grabbed the picture frame in front of him and clutched it to his chest. He turned to her and if watching her son in this state hadn’t shattered her heart, then this definitely had him stomping on her heart.
Harry always found comfort in Y/N. After a long day of interviews, continuous shows, album releases, there was a constant through it all and it was Y/N. Whenever she sensed he was being overpressured, or knew he wasn’t doing his best or feeling his best Y/N was there. She was everywhere whenever she needed him, and Harry couldn’t explain how grateful he was for her. She took care of him when he couldn’t take care of himself, and the most she ever did was take care of him when he wasn’t himself. In true form and works, Y/N had shaped everything Harry had ever worked towards. He knew if she wasn’t at his side like she constantly was, he wouldn’t have reached the level he had with his career. She quite literally had designed every single thing in his closet, and every single thing he could have worn in his life since knowing her. Y/N was there whenever he needed someone the most. Whenever he longed for the comfort his mother was so far away to reach for, Y/N was there. She was there, and when she needed him the most he had left. Harry had left her on her own. Now as he clutched the picture of the two ex best friends into himself, he wished he had never left her on her own. He wished that she was there like she always was for him. He cried because she wasn’t there because of his own fault. He cried because he put himself through this. He cried because he wanted the love Y/N had to offer him. He cried because he wanted to be the comfort she had always offered him.
Harry did eventually get into his bed. Anne managed to get her son into bed into much defiance and struggle that came from him. She managed to get him to bed, but she didn’t manage to get him to let go of the picture of his hold. Harry went to bed with the picture of him and Y/N clutched into his chest, and his tears falling onto them. He fell asleep with a great ache and pain going through his body and his heart, and he knew that he deserved to go through the pain he was crying out of. He deserved it, and he fell asleep crying because he knew that he deserved it.
Y/N she wasn’t in bed, she wished she was, but no she wasn’t. She was laid on the carpeted floor, huffing at the strength it took her to put together a crib. Who knew the amount of strength one would need to put together a crib. She never imagined it would have taken her the span of 2 hours. She assumed that by an hour she would be up and putting up the bassinet set she had bought. But nope it was now 12 and she was laid on the ground trying to catch her breath after she had used all her energy and strength to build a single crib.
If simply painting the room and building a crib took all of Y/N’s night she didn’t know how much longer it would take to fully get the room perfected. But nevertheless she was excited for the process and the outcome, she was just exhausted, and hungry.
“We need a long break after this one don’t we buddy” She huffed out turning her head to look at her dog, “Oh of course! You’re sleeping” She groaned and lifted herself up from her spot, quickly glancing around the room. Even though she was five months pregnant now it still took her a bit to fully come to terms and process. She was having a baby in just four months. She was going to have a baby. Something she never imagined, something she had never thought of. Never had she thought she would end up where she was now. Building a nursery room for a baby she was going to have. Never did she think that if she were to have a baby Harry wouldn’t be there.
When Y/N had thought of her future, Harry was always there, no matter what in any way shape or form, her best friend, the person she called her lover was there. Now that he was gone, she seemed to have quickly adjusted to a life without him. She figured if he can kick her out of his life that quickly, then she could easily adjust to a life without him. Surely and slowly she was, he rarely crossed her mind, but when he did it only brought an agonizing pain and panic surface into her body and mind. The man she had loved for so long had turned to be one of the men that she almost feared to be near. Not because of the person he was, she knew that deep down even everything the man had put her through recently, Harry was an amazing person with an amazing heart. But she feared the damage he would continuously do to her, she feared what else he would break in her, she feared that if she were to let him back into her life he would not only break her but break her child’s heart.
Her baby was the most important thing in her life currently. Even if they weren’t born yet she wanted to protect them at all costs and she would do whatever it possibly took to make sure her baby was safe from anything and everything even if they had yet to face the world. But she knew that if she had to go through heartbreak she would protect her baby from the aches of heart she had been enduring for years in any way that she could until she no longer could. But if staying away from Harry was what it took, then she would stay out of his way like he desired.
Y/N finished off cleaning all the little bits of trash that were scattered across the room of the nursery, and settled on leaving Cuddles sleeping in the work in progress room. She had no energy to lift his weight up and possibly settle him on her bed or in his own bed, so she simply left him to his peaceful slumber. Either way she knew that the soft dog would find its new home in the same room in the coming four months. Sighing she put all her energy into getting down the stairs of her home getting a quick snack and then making her way up the stairs once again getting into her room and quickly going through her night routine, making sure to leave the door of her room open just in case Cuddles awoke in the middle of the night and made his way into the room. She got into bed and let her mind take over the future she had ahead of her with her baby with the occasional question of what Harry could be going through at the moment.
Anne awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. Thankfully not to the sound of her son vomiting his insides in the toilet after last night, but the sound of her phone ringing going through Harry’s guest room. Groaning, she glanced at the clock that was settled on the nightstand next to her. Her eyes widened when she came to notice the time hitting noon. She reached out towards her phone and upon seeing the contact name of “Y/N” she quickly answered the call.
“Anne?” The girl let out what Anne heard to be a harsh gasp into the phone.
“Y/N?” Anne began to rub the sleep out of her eyes, “Are you alright darling?”
“I can’t find the jelly and you were the last to use the jelly.” Y/N quickly spoke into the phone and Anne only giggled at this being the reason the girl was calling her. Of course she would be the one to call her at almost noon asking her where the jelly was. But to Anne’s dismay she was helpless; she had no recollection of using the jelly at all, much less knowing where it was.
“Love, I don’t ever remember using the-” Y/N interrupted her easily and quickly.
“Anne, you used it yesterday morning for toast.” Anne had used hazelnut spread. Not Jelly. She remembers because Y/N specifically asked her to not use the jelly because she didn’t like the strong smell.
“Love, I used the hazelnut spread” Anne let out a chuckle at the girl insistence.
“Anne!” Y/n was beginning to become frustrated, and it didn’t help that Cuddles was right at her feet trying to jump onto her legs, “Cuddles, Let’s not” Anne heard her try to calm the dog over the phone.
“Darling I swear I used the spread because you said the smell of the jelly wasn’t being nice to you” Anne reminded her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom in the guest room.
“I really wanted jelly today” The girl began to cry over the phone to Anne, and for once Anne didn’t feel a pang in her heart about one of her children crying she found it rather comical but she wasn’t going to admit that to the soft girl over the phone, she knew it would only send the girl into a deeper spiral of tears over jelly.
“Darling” Anne tried to hide her light laugh through a sigh, “You can head off to the store can’t you?” She lightly asked her, trying not to make her cry even more.
“I don’t want to” Y/N cried, “If I do that means I have to take Cuddles cause he’s being extra clingy today and-”
“Love” Anne tried to interrupt her but it didn’t work.
“The baby has been kicking all morning and I really don’t feel like carrying Cuddles into,” The girl continued to blabber on to Anne until she cut her words off herself, “Oh my god Anne”
“Yes Love” Anne let her laugh sound through the phone this time.
“ I found the jelly” She wiped her tears and laughed lightly at herself, “It was right in front of me” She shook her head even though Anne couldn’t see her. “I’m sorry” She let out quietly after not hearing Anne say any word back to her.
“Oh love don’t be sorry” Anne laughed, “I’m happy this was what I woke up to”
“You’re just waking up?” Y/N asked the lady over the phone. She knew Anne was one to wake up early and get her day started in the bright of the day.
“Yeah, we had a long night over here” Anne sighed knowing that if the girl even knew about the situation she would run her mind crazy and that was the last thing she wanted her to go through at the moment.
“Is he okay” Y/N felt as if she was obligated to ask, even if it wasn’t to know about the state Harry was in, but rather how Anne was after seeing him in such a state.
“He’s okay” Anne sighed, “He’s going to be okay” Anne was almost telling herself those words more than she was telling Y/N.
“He’ll be okay” Y/N repeated after Anne, “He’s got you, he’ll be alright, he’s got the best person to support him that is out there” Y/N smiled into the phone and the words simply made Anne melt and want to break into tears over the emotional exhaustion she had to endure herself.
“Thank you love” Anne softly told her not knowing exactly what to say. She knew that if she mentioned what had Harry had done with the pic of the two last night it would only make the girl feel bad, and she knew Y/N had no reason to feel bad, she knew her son had been cruel to her and she wasn’t going to allow Y/N to simply walk back to him like that after he had thrown her out in such a way. As much as she loved her son and as much as she knew her son needed it, she wouldn’t allow Y/N to do so.
“I’ll get back to my sandwich making so you can go take care of him, yeah?”
Anne let out a light laugh at the girls words, “Of course love, you get back to your sandwich I’ll see you soon”
“I love you Anne” The girl told her before Anne was repeating the words and the call was quickly ended. Anne sighed upon the day she had ahead of her. She didn’t know what could possibly come from her day with Harry. She got herself ready for what was the rest of the day ahead of her before she finally made her way up to her Son’s room.
She expected her son to be asleep, she didn’t expect him to be on the floor of his room once again in tears with every single picture of not only him and Fallon, but of him and Y/N as well. But this time Anne only sighed and her heart didn’t break for her son, it only resented him.
“Oh Harry” She sighed as she made her way over to him and took her place right next to him on the floor. She looked at every photo around him, all of them which she had seen or hadn’t seen, but every photograph had a story, one that Anne didn’t know but that Harry cherished always.
“I miss them” Harry looked up at his mother with tears in his eyes, “I’ve really lost everything now mum” He continued to cry while looking at his mother next to him. “I don’t know how I could let myself lose them both” Harry is only now beginning to process how badly he had fucked up. He lost Y/N and he never wanted it to lead to losing her ever. He lost Fallon and of course it hurt him because he truly thought that Fallon was the one, he thought she was the one he was meant to be with and she threw it all in his face.
“Harry” Anne picked up Harry’s hand from his lap, “I know it hurts, but if you just sit here it’s not going to change anything. I know moving on from Fallon won’t be easy-”
“She said she didn’t love me.” Harry interrupted his mother words, letting out the same words that hurt him to hear from Fallon, “She said she didn’t love me and she never has, she led me on for three years mum” He looked right into his mother eyes with tears drowning his face, “She only wanted me for everything I had except for me”
Anne took in his words slowly and it hurt to know that the girl had been so sweet to her and everyone around her son only for her to have been playing an act for three long years. The girl hid her reality of emotions behind the person Harry was. She hid her true self behind Harry’s kindness and generosity, making her seem like the ideal woman for her son when she was the exact opposite. “Well she missed out on the love you have to offer Harry” Anne had no other words to voice to her son she didn’t know what to say that could have possibly made him feel better at this point. She could never possibly imagine what it was like to be so in love with someone and then be told that the person had never loved you back. It hurt her to hear that her son had to go through that heartbreak.
“I love her mum” He cried his voice laced with pain, “I loved her and she just walked away as if nothing! She laughed about it to mum” His cries only became louder as he picked up a new picture of him and what was once the love of his life. “Mum she made me leave Y/N because she wanted me to herself, and she didn’t even love me! She had this sick idea where if I was all hers then maybe she would love me, but she just got tired of me. She got tired of me mum.”
Harry repeated his words almost as if he was still trying to process them himself and Anne only moved to embrace her son tighter. “I left Y/N when she needed it the most for her.” He glanced at his mother who only had to offer a soft sad smile at him, “I walked away so easily from her because I really thought she was the one. I wanted her to be the one and she just threw me out. I left Y/N for her.” Harry’s reality hit him, he had really left his best friend behind just for the sake of having the one right in front of him. He had simply thrown Y/N out as if she had never meant a single thing in his life or to him. He was just now realizing that he was the person Fallon was to him yesterday to Y/N.
As Harry’s thoughts ran wild over how much he had damaged Y/N Anne practically said it all to him. All of his thoughts seemed to be voiced by his mother.
“You did the exact same thing to Y/N Harry. You threw her out so quickly over Fallon, and now Fallon’s thrown you out. Darling it’s all coming back to you” Anne told him as nicely as she could not want to damage her son more. Through all the pain he was feeling she wanted him to realize the kind of person he had been in the past months to Y/N.
“Mum” He fell into his mother harder, fully into tears, “Do you think I will ever find someone like Y/N again.” He feared the idea of never having a best friend or person in his life ever again. He would end up alone, he would end up living his fears. His fears and insecurities were becoming his world and that was the one thing Y/N always made sure to not let Harry fall into. If Harry was deeply honest, what hurt him the most out of the two heartbreaks he was enduring was the fact he lost Y/N. What hurt him the most was what he was feeling and going through right now was what Y/N had to go through when he walked out on her.
“Oh Harry” Anne looked at her son, “I can’t answer that for you” She told him the best that came to her mind. In reality she knew that Harry and Y/N would either end up as friends once again or simply be better off without each other. For her son’s sake she wished the two would find a way back to each other, but for Y/N’s sake she wished her son would stay out of her way. The girl was only now getting over him, and she knew if he were to simply walk back into her life it would be no good for Y/N.
“Would she ever want to be my friend again?” He cried the desperate question that was floating into his mind.
“Harry” Anne sighed, “I don’t know. You did so much damage to her in saying all that you said to her” She told him the truth even if it hurt him.
“I didn’t mean it mum I swear-”
“But you said it Harry, and you said everything that you knew would hurt her when she needed you the most, Harry. That’s what hurt her the most Harry, you did it all when she needed you the most. Now she adjusted to not needing you anymore, she’s doing fine without you”
“She’s doing fine without me?” It hurt Harry to hear. Even though he didn’t want her to be drowning in pain, especially pregnant, it hurt him to know how casually she sounded to be doing without him. Here he was drowning in pain and his mother had just told him the girl who he hurt so badly had now adjusted to being perfect without him.
“Harry she’s five months pregnant now” Anne softly smiled thinking of Y/N, “She has much more to worry about then what could have possibly happened if you hadn’t left her in such a state. That girl was crying and was miserable for days after what you told her Harry, and now she’s over it she has other things to do than cry over you at this point Harry.”
Harry let himself fall into his mother’s chest, he was proud of Y/N he knew how strong she was but he wished he was by her side through it all. “She’s doing all that alone. She doesn’t need me anymore” He cried into his mother’s chest, “Just like Fallon didn’t need me, she doesn’t need me either.”
“It’s not like she doesn’t want you, Harry.” Anne reminded him softly, “Out of everyone who has wanted you the most in her life, she has wanted you the most Harry, she was open for you whenever you were closed for her. Now she’s closed and you’re open Harry”
“I didn’t ever want it to turn out like this” He looked up at his mother from his spot in her chest, “I just wanted to be happy with Fallon and have Y/N on my side.”
“But when Fallon made you choose, you chose her” Anne began to run her fingers through her son’s hair.
“She was supposed to be the one mum!”
“That’s what Y/N thought of you Harry, that’s what she wanted in you.” Anne let the feelings of the girl slip out of her mind. She never once thought that those words would ever escape from her mouth and slip into the ears of her son. She knew that among everything Y/N has trusted her with this was one the biggest things. Now she had gone and let out the girls’ most trusted words in the sake of comforting her son, and Anne quickly felt the slow guilt consume her slowly.
“She thought I was the one?” Harry quickly picked himself up from his spot in his mother's comforting chest, “Mum?” He tried to get her attention, “She- she was in love with me?” He let the words process into his mind and he simply could not process everything the two had been through and promised each other that the girl was once again in love with him.
The truth was, one year into the friendship of Y/N and Harry they had both mutually fallen in love with each other. It happened when Harry had Y/N tour with him, he had fallen in love with the outfits she had continuously made for him and practically demanded her to join him on his first debut tour. The people pleaser Y/N was she joined him on his tour not ever thinking that the two would fall so badly for each other. Harry had fallen in love with not only her style of designing but he had fallen for her too, and Y/N was quick to fall right behind him. Everyone on the tour crew could see it and notice it, there was no possible way one could have been blind to it.
One night when Harry had gone off with the band for drinks he came extremely drunk. Immensely drunk that Mitch called the only person he knew would be able to contain the man in such a state, Y/N. Y/N was quick to respond to the call and almost immediately made her way over to the spot the crew was hanging out at to be at Harry’s care. She was quick to get the drunken man into her car and get him back to his hotel room. But it was a hassle, the man was full of several words and silly tactics. Among his words was his confession of love for the girl, and the girl had reacted so quickly in running out of the man’s room when he settled to sleep. She feared the idea of having her best friend turn into her lover, she feared that she would end up losing him in everything they were pushing themselves towards. She feared everything that came with being with Harry, but she never once feared the man Harry was.
Y/N practically hid from Harry for the course of a week. She of course had her work of the various suits he wore done for him, but she always had Sarah or anyone else around her deliver it to him. She had found a way to avoid him at all costs, even when he was constantly blowing up her phone, even when everyone that was near her was telling her the amount of times Harry had been asking around for her. It was affecting Harry and everyone could tell, his temper began to shorten and he began to be moody at not being around her. That’s when Sarah and Mitch practically forced Harry to show up at her hotel door.
When Y/n opened the door she was quick to shut it when she came to face him. She wasn’t in the place to face him, but she didn’t know that the man was clueless as to what he had said until he was pleading at the door to let him in. When she did, the man demanded her to tell her the reasons as to why she was hiding from him, and Y/N could only sit in silence for so long. So she simply let out her thoughts and feelings on how in love she was with him, she left Harry in full shock over the feelings she had for him. How could it be possible that the girl he loved so dearly loved him back so easily. The questions ran through his mind but he sat in silence, and Y/N only took it as his drunken words being lies.
She apologized harshly and deeply to the man sitting in front of her, until he was silencing her with his mouth on hers. But Y/N was quick to stop his actions, she didn’t want him to only spring himself into a relationship because of pity. When the words came out of her mouth, Harry got defensive of himself, going crazy at what was now his confession of love for her. From that moment on there was no longer a disappearance of Y/N from Harry around the tour crew, the two were now inseparable, and the entire tour crew caught onto the fact that there had been a shift between the two.
There had never been an official label to what they were. That’s what Y/N blamed their harsh romantic ending on. The two were intimate with each other, and maybe that’s what hurt Y/N the most out of everything. She gave Harry everything that she had once kept special and safe to herself. Everything that she wanted to give to the person that she deemed, “the one” she gave to Harry. That’s one of the mai9n reasons Y/N assumed she could never fall out of love with him. He held an immensely special place in her heart and in her life in general, and that was something she could never get rid of even if she tried.
By the end of the tour, the two were still close, but no longer in the romantic sense that they were in. When they got to their homes in London, Harry almost ghosted Y/N. No matter how hard she tried to get in contact with him, no matter how many times she showed up at his door, he was gone. It hurt Y/N deeply, but when she showed up at his door one evening, and his current fling opened the door, Y/N broke. Y/N recognized the girl to be another one from the tour crew, and that’s when she called Sarah to ask if she had any insight of the situation between Harry and the girl in his home. That was when Y/N had found out that the girl showed an interest in Harry at the last tour show, and the two had been consistently around each other since.
No one including Harry and Y/N knew what they deemed themselves to be in the romantic sense. Were they dating? Were they simply extremely close friends with benefits? No one knew what they were including the two, so Harry had the right to go off with another girl. But that didn’t mean he had the right to simply ghost Y/N the way he did so abruptly. That’s when she showed up at his door one late night in full tears screaming at her best friend for what he had done to her. Harry only deeply apologizes recognizing his wrong doing and then told her that the thing they had between the two couldn’t go on. That’s when Y/N made the two promise they could never fall in love with each other again. That’s when she made him swear to never come near her in a romantic sense.
Harry easily moved on from her, but she never easily moved on from him. Even after the incident the two were close friends, of course it hurt Y/N to be near him and not have him be hers but she got over it, because he seemed to be doing perfectly fine with his new love interest. He was doing fine so she would try her best to be fine without him, and so she was. She was fine but she was never out of love. She supposed the only reason she clung onto him and kept him around was because he was the only person she actually had.
When he heard his mother say the words that the girl was in love with him. It’s almost as if everything in Harry practically broke again. He felt terrible, he felt terrible for what he had done to the girl back when they were on tour and now. He felt terrible because he knew that a part of her always loved the girl, he felt terrible because he knew how special the spark they had on tour was to Y/N. He knew how special their love was to Y/N and he had broken it not once, but now twice.
“Mum I broke her twice” He paced the room, “She trusted me all of these times and I broke her two times!”
“And she got herself back up both times Harry” Anne looked at her pacing son, “If she can get back up so easily you should be able to get up from this and fix everything or move on” Anne wanted to encourage her son to move forward from every idea that was possibly tormenting his mind, she wanted him to not wallow in the sadness he created for himself.
“What if she doesn’t want to fix everything mum?” He let his worries out to his mother.
“Then you have to move on, Harry” Anne sighed.
“What if i can’t move-”
“Harry” Anne interrupted him, she picked up a photo from the ground, “If you really want to fix things you will find the right way to do it. If you don’t then you will find someone to move on with” But Anne still had a question running through her own mind, “But I have to ask you darling” She got up from her sitting spot on the floor of her son’s room, “Do you want to fix things for Y/N or for your benefit?”
Harry groaned at his mother’s question because if he was honest he himself didn’t know the answer to that question. “Mum, for the both of us” He let out quickly making up his answer, “I’m going to fix it for her, and me”
Anne smiled at her son’s words and made her way over to him and embraced him into a tight hug. She pulled away and reminded him of one single thing, “Just remember Harry, it’s not just her now, it’s her and her baby”
“I feel so bad for leaving her when she needed me the most, '' Harry blurts at his moms reminder.
“You should Harry” Anne responded, “She has been with you for everything, and if you didn’t let her go the way you did she would be here too” She told him.
“I wouldn’t be in this position if I just chose her over Fallon” He looked down at the ground, “I’ve been the one for her, but I’ve never treated Y/N as if she was the one for me” His tears begin to blind his view again.
“Harry” Anne sighed, “If you’re only doing this because you know now that she’s in love with you.” She shook her head, “Then maybe it's better for you to just move on.”
“Mum” Harry looked at Anne, “I think a part of me has always wanted her to be the one”
“So then why haven’t you acted on it Harry” She tried to cover up her knowledge of the instinct where she knew they were bound to end up together. “She asked how you were doing today” she blurted out for who knows what reason.
“She came?” His eyes widened at the thought the girl would ask about him.
“She called me asking me about something, I was at her home last night, helping with a few things she wanted to do.”
“She really is doing fine without me isn’t she?” Harry asked his mother with tears still blocking his view.
“Harry,” Anne sighed, “You barely tried to keep her in your life, so she walked away from the idea of you being in hers” She looked straight at her son, “ I know it wasn’t easy for her”
“I’m going to try to fix it mum” Harry cried, “If she lets me I’ll fix it. I’ll be there for her and the baby like I should have been from the beginning” Anne could hear the desperation in her son’s voice.
“What if she doesn’t want it fixed Harry,” Anne began to tell her son, “She’s going to have a baby it’s not just her now, it’s her and her baby. As a mother she will protect that child from anything, and what you put her through is one of the things she will make sure her baby doesn’t go through Harry”
Harry didn’t know how he intended on getting Y/N back into his life. But he now knew the girl was in love with him, and even if she was trying to get over him he would try his best to get the girl to allow him back into her life slowly. He would do anything and everything to be in the comfort of his best friend’s arms. He wanted to be there for her in any way he could, and it all began with him fixing things with himself, and then fixing things with Y/N. If he could get over Fallon in a bit of time, he would only be able to get to Y/N quicker and that’s what his heart called out for the most.
His heart called out for finding “the one”. His heart called out for him to be heard, to be comforted, to be cared for, his heart called out for Y/N. And Harry would do anything to follow his heart this time. He wanted to be the person she was for him. He wanted to be the comfort, the care, the love that his heart asked for, and he would do anything and everything just for her.
I love how Harry is so in love with YN. We saw him get hurt, will we ever get to see his reaction if she gets hurt?
Absolutely. Right now.
Harry’s sitting in a strategy meeting that he’d rather not be in. He won the race. Why do they have to talk about it? He’s rather be having a nice lunch with his girl. He was going to cook for her.
He’s thinking about a recipe for soup when his team principal yells at him to pay attention. They are still playfully bickering when a fire alarm starts blaring. They file out of the fire exits while Jeff is saying, “It’s probably just a drill.”
“Do you know for sure?” Harry questions just as Jeff is getting a call. He raises a finger to shush Harry as he talks. Harry scans the building, seeing smoke coming from the far side of the building.
“That’s the garage,” Harry says mostly to himself. Jeff barely is grasping his shirt when Harry takes off sprinting to the sound of sirens.
“Can you clean up this petrol please?” Y/n was asking no one in particular after the she almost slipped and face planted in her own garage. She doesn’t know how she would recover from that. She realizes there’s no one in else in earshot of her and she’s just not assertive enough to call someone to clean it for her. Harry would be disappointed in her for not being assertive and doing something “not in her job description” and working through lunch.
Harry said after the strategy meeting they would eat together. He was going to make soup! He did tell her to eat a snack though, keep her sugars up. She’s walking back from the janitorial closet with a mop, mumbling about the dangers of fuel leakage when she’s pushed back into the wall. When her head bangs against the drywall she sees black dots.
Her vision is blurry and she can smell smoke. Alarms are blaring. Something is wrong. She tries to take a deep breath and chokes on it. The lab. The fuel. Something is wrong.
Bright orange blinks into her vision. She needs to get up. She needs to leave. Coughing, she pulls her shirt over her mouth and nose and pulls herself into a crawling position. The halls from her hands and knees are vaguely familiar. She’s so confused. She hates being confused. Her brain has always worked so efficiently. She hates being confused so much it sends her into a panic.
He’s running at a speed he’s never known in his life. Maybe she’s at lunch. All the other engineers are at lunch. He knows his fiancée better than he knows the back of his hand, every sector of the Monaco track, everything. He knows she’s not at lunch. When he gets to the building flame licks at his skin. He shrugs off his jacket, putting it over his face before running into the building. He’s screaming her name over and over again.
Firefighters will be here soon, he knows that. He knows they might not be here soon enough. How long has she been exposed to toxic chemicals. How long has she been breathing in this thick smoke?
He finds her on the ground, crawling in the wrong direction. Her face is wet despite the dry heat. He puts the jacket over her face. When her picks her up, he reassures her, “I’ve got you.”
A trauma blanket is wrapped around both of them when Harry refuses to be separated from her. The rest of the team was thankful that no else was in the building but disheartened by the fact that Y/n was caught up in the explosion.
She pulls the oxygen mask of her face, Harry’s fingers enclose on it, pushing it down, gently. “You have to get this oxygen treatment if you don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“I wanted to thank you, my knight in shining armor.”
Summary: Harry is a moon lover and y/n is a star girl. Their dates end at a blanket staring at the heavens, falling in love with each other more everyday.
Pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
Trigger warnings: none
It was a warm summer night with a cold gentle breeze. Her dress was blowing in the wind, so was his hair getting messy. They both love warm summer nights and hang out a lot. Harry gave her his warm sweater, he saw how y/n was freezing. His voice is always so soft when he talks to her and so it is today, “I knew you’ll forget yours.” He mumbled softly in the shell of her ear.
They have a soft spot for how the stars are visible on a cloudless night. The stars are glowing is her favourite thing and Harry adores the moon. The dark sky, the bugs are almost the only thing you can hear at night. The streets are almost empty. You hear one, two cars drive around the small city. The quiet music is coming from Harry’s phone. It was one of y/n all time favourite songs. He always plays them for her. It’s calm and gentle.
Harry knows y/n for a long time they were best friends, still are. Y/n and Harry have known each other their whole life. Her lover was always the quiet boy next door who never talks to anyone at all and she was the hopeless romantic with the Roses garden.
First they were childhood best friends, then they stopped talking. Somehow they started talking again and now they are finally more than that. It took them so long to talk to each other, all over again.
Harry laid his hand on hers, still watching the magical summer of the heavens, “are you okay? Do you want to go home? It's getting really cold.” He saw how her expression changed to a sad look. She doesn’t want the dead of night to end yet.
Her soft pink lips part, “it’s okay,” she said softly on the warm night. Her hair was all messy and due to the wind every time she wanted to fix it the breeze blew around their heads.
She had those lips, he wanted to kiss so bad, all summer.
She’s talking to him. Her voice tastes like warm and sweet honey. Her eyes sparkle like cold moonstones. Her lips seem so gentle like a flower in the summer breeze. Everytime Harry has the opportunity to take a seat next to her he smells a garden full of flowers. In his nose flew the smell of sweet strawberries.
“What is your favorite memory of us?” She asked him, and snuggled her shivering body closer to him.
He opens his mouth, through his mind goes every possible thing he could say, but he always lands on this memory. It didn't matter what beautiful memories he had. All are perfect in some way.
She laid her head on his warm shoulder, his head resting on top of hers. She always liked him, she liked how quiet he was around other people, only she knows he never shuts up.
“It would be wrong, if I have to choose only one, everything is so special when you’re around, bug.” Harry asked his girl a view times, if she’s ready to leave, but she wasn’t ready to go home and end their magical night.
Y/n legs are almost numb from the cold air. He had packed one of his fluffy blankets, y/n has always been honest with him. All the time.
She supported her head on his chest and the blanket sprawled over their body’s. “I found the fox,” he pointed at the dark, almost black sky. His star girl lifted her gaze back up to the delightful night sky to see it herself.
“It’s so hard to find,” a yawn came over her soft lips.
Time was forgotten, eyes became heavier and harder to keep open. The wind became colder, her head resting comfortably on his hard chest.
Before she disappeared in her dream world, he lifted her head barely and kissed her. Tasting her soft lips. It is so different, he always imagined how it would feel, but it’s better than that. The hint of strawberry on her lips and his rough fingertips against her cheek makes her smile. It was kind of messy considering neither the star girl or the moon lover kissed anyone before.
She went there when she had her days off, or when things were particularly slow and she could take a longer break. She especially loved going there towards the end of the day, so she could enjoy her unobscured view of the majestic sunset.
And since she was alone and she knew none of her colleagues would be patrolling that area, and no hikers would walk in on her, she would skinny dip.
Walking into the water she slowly got deeper and sucked in a sharp breath when the water reached her waist. Holding her breath she bent her knees and ducked herself under the water to cover her head and then rose from the water quickly and laughed loudly. She loved the feeling of the cold water covering her limbs and shocking her system.
She waded deeper and began to swim, kicking her legs and propelling her arms as she glided in the water, already feeling her stress melt away.
She loved swimming, having grown up doing this as a pastime in her hometown, and ever since she moved to the big city she’d missed it.
She floated peacefully after doing her usual rounds, taking note of how the sky was beginning to change to her favorite hues of purple and orange as it was approaching sunset. She loved this part of the day the most but especially loved watching it all unfold while she was floating blissfully in the lake.
She was done for the day and was off-duty, so since she was heading back home after this, she could afford to get her hair wet and deal with it later. Whenever she would come there for short breaks in her schedule, she’d make sure not to get it wet though. She didn’t want her colleagues to find out about her little secret and accuse her of slacking on the job.
It was getting a bit chilly though, so she decided to get out of the water and watch the sun go down from ashore.
Turning in the water, she began to swim back in the direction she came from but paused with a jolt and gasped when she saw the man.
It was him.
He was right there, in front of her, his head barely visible atop the waterline, with only his eyes and nose breaking surface.
How long had he been standing there in the water? Watching her. Preying on her.
Did he know? That she’d been to his cabin. Did he know she was onto his secret? Was that why he was there? Was he going to harm her?
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard him get into the water. Or seen him, even. He must’ve done it while she was doing her laps.
Suddenly, she was reminded of her nakedness and she felt her whole body flush furiously in embarrassment, despite how chilly it was getting by the minute.
They kept staring at each other until she realized he was slowly making his way toward her in the water. It was barely noticeable that he was moving at all. This guy really gave her the creeps, but for some reason, she couldn’t look away. She could barely see half of his face but his eyes were mesmerizing, they had a strange hold on her. She just couldn’t look away.
She should’ve made a run for it while she still had the advantage, being close to the spot she’d dropped her belongings. She wasn’t armed, since she was off duty for the evening, but she did have her swiss knife and it was definitely better than her bare hands.
Her bare everything.
That was what was keeping her from doing just that - her state of undress. She knew he’d likely seen every bit of her, especially with the way she’d floated toward the end, but she couldn’t get herself to snap out of it. She was risking her life for the sake of her modesty, and even that was a thing of the past.
He eventually got within an arm’s length of her and began circling around her ever so slowly. He reminded her of crocodiles, with their eyes poking out of the water and the eerie, slow way in which they move before suddenly launching at their prey. She was expecting him to pounce on her in a similar fashion, drowning her maybe.
But she wasn’t gonna go down without a fight. She was going to stand her ground and use every tactic in the book she’d learned in military school to try and turn this around in her favor.
She wasn’t gonna show him how scared she was. She wasn’t gonna let him see how he intimidated her. She needed the upper hand. So she broke the silence as she watched him circle around her, making sure her voice didn’t waver.
“Why did you steal the pup back?”
She saw a glint of mischief in his eyes just before he pushed himself out of the water to his shoulders. Her eyes landed on that big, luscious mouth of his again, and sure enough, she saw the hint of a smirk there before his deep voice wiped it off his lips, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, officer.”
“I warned you that if you didn’t come to provide proof of ownership it’s considered a criminal offense. Not only did you not follow through, but you broke into the station and stole the pup back.”
“Am I under arrest then, officer?” He batted his eyelashes at her innocently and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. He was infuriating. Did he think this was funny?
“I have every right to arrest you. You’re breaking more laws than I can count, sir.”
“I’m sure you’re smarter than you give yourself credit.”
She squinted her eyes at him for that little jab, “I’m warning you.”
“Or else, what?” He came impossibly close, rising slightly above her in the water. She could now see he was inked. Quite heavily so. She couldn’t stop her eyes from roaming over his torso, water droplets chasing down his tattoos. Her eyes took a quick inventory of two swallows, one atop each of his pecs, small ones that she couldn’t decipher, and further down, the top of what she could only assume were butterfly wings. “Go ahead. Take me in.” He teased, his voice low.
The innuendo wasn’t lost on her, even in her state of panic. She willed her eyes off his body, but looking straight into his eyes wasn’t any easier. A strand of his slicked-back, long, wet hair was falling over his face, his eyes were piercing right through hers and his heavy panting was accentuating his masculine nose. Just everything about him made her feral. She couldn’t deny her body’s response to him, and it infuriated her to no end to know she was allowing herself to feel this way when her life was in literal danger.
“I know about the cabin.”
It was just a split second, but she didn’t miss the look of surprise on his face. He didn’t know, then, that she’d been there. He didn’t know about the microchip she’d planted into the pup. He couldn’t have known, she’d made sure not to leave any tracks, but then why was he here, stalking her like this, if he didn’t know?
He searched her eyes, probably in an effort to figure out somehow just how much she knew about his dirty little secret, but her shivering seemed to snap him out of his train of thought.
“The temperature is dropping fast; go put your clothes on. You’ll freeze to death.”
She stared at him, taken aback. She hadn’t expected that.
“I’ll do no such thing!”
“Nothing I haven’t already seen,” he raised an eyebrow at her and she furrowed hers.
“You get out first, and turn away.”
“Oh? So you can shoot me when I’m not looking? Not very heroic, is it, officer?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know you know I’m unarmed. Who knows how long you’ve been stalking me.”
He lowered his gaze in between them “Can’t promise the same for myself.” And with that, he proceeded to make his way out of the water. Stark naked, of course. She expected nothing less.
And when he made it to the shore and turned towards her, on full display, she bit her tongue. She definitely had expected less, as it turns out; nothing could’ve prepared her for that.
Whatever happened to cold water shrinkage?
“It’s not polite to stare.”
“Then put some bloody clothes on!” Her voice came off way higher than she’d intended it to.
The man shrugged and, to her dismay, he walked over to her pile of clothes and picked up her ranger hat, placing it on his head.
She couldn’t help but to let out an incredulous laugh.
“I meant, cover up!!”
Harry looked down at his crotch, seemingly completely unaffected by his state of undress. It was as if it was perfectly normal for him to just roam around naked like that in front of a literal stranger. He then grabbed the hat from atop his head and placed it over his groin, holding it there for a beat before letting it fall to the ground.
Y/N’s mouth fell agape, and then the man just shrugged again “Come out, and I’ll make it stay on this time. I promise you.”
Y/N was blushing profusely, so she turned around, more in an effort to keep him from seeing just how much he was affecting her than to give him privacy. “Sir!… Please!”
She heard him chuckle and waited a considerable amount of time for him to get dressed. When she thought it was safe to turn back around, she froze.
The man was gone.
She hadn’t heard him make his way through the greenery at all.
She looked around, but the coast was clear. If she couldn’t see him, it was very unlikely he could see her.
And just as he’d reminded her, it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.
She finally emerged from the lake and rushed to her clothes. Her swiss army knife was still there, nothing was missing.
Except for the mysterious man, who was now aware she knew about his secret. And that sent shivers down her spine, and not from how cold it was getting.
excerpt from Lupus Noctis- Chapter 2
this is a co-written fic by @fkinavocado and @gurugirl and you can read it on our joint account, @avocadoguru ❤️
we decided to post this excerpt from our separate blogs because sadly our joint blog isn't discoverable in search through tags yet :(
A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)
His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.
There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.
His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.
Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.
It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.
“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.
“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.
“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.
“Oh, just your hands.”
His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”
“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”
A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”
“Mmm, not really.”
She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.
“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”
Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.
“I missed you too, H.”
“This week made me realize something.”
Her heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”
His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.
When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”
“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.
He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.
She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.
“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.
She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.
It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.
“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.
“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”
“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”
A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.
“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.
“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”
“But I made things awkward!”
“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”
She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.
“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”
She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”
They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.
After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.
“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”
He nods. “Okay.”
Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.
“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”
“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”
“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”
“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”
“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”
“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”
She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”
He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”
“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”
Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”
She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.
“Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”
“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.
“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.
He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”
“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.
“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”
“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”
“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”
His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.
“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”
“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”
“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”
Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”
“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.
She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.
When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.
Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.
It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.
He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.
“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
“Hmm… A couple days ago?”
“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”
Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”
“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.
“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”
“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”
She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”
He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.
“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”
She swallows. “Yup.”
He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.
In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.
“Careful,” he says.
She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.
“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.
She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.
He smiles. “There you go.”
“Okay, what now?”
“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”
They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.
After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”
She responds with a tiny nod.
“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”
“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”
“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.
“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”
She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.
“That’s good. Keep doing that.”
Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.
“Are we okay?” he asks.
“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.
He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.
Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.
That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.
“Does this feel good?” he asks.
She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”
Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.
“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”
“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”
He chuckles. “My pleasure.”
Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”
He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.
He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.
After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.
“Can I dry you off?” he asks.
She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”
“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.
Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.
Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.
She just blinks at him.
“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”
“Why’s that a bad thing?”
She doesn’t reply.
“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”
“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”
“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”
“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”
It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.
“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.
Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.
A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.
She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.
“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.
A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.
“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.
She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.
“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.
She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.
He frowns. “What are you doing?”
She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.
“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”
“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.
“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.
Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.
“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.
“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”
He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.
She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.
Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.
“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.
She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.
“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.
She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.
“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.
“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”
Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”
She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”
“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”
She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.
Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”
“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”
“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”
His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.
“Okay,” she replies.
Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.
Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.
“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.
Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.
“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”
“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”
Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”
Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.
“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.
She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”
“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”
He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”
“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”
She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.
“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”
“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.
A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”
He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”
He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”
“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.
He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”
“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”
It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.
Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”
“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”
“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”
“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.
“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”
She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”
“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”
She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”
He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.
After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.
That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.
Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.
“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”
She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”
A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”
“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”
“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”
“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”
“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”
“There’s your answer then.”
She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”
They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.
It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.
“Is that okay?” she asks.
“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”
She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.
He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.
The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.
“Please,” she whines.
He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”
“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”
She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.
“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”
“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.
He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.
Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.
Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
I swear I could read prof y/n content all day longgg!
Could we get an angst moment? Love a bit of drama hahahaha 🤪😂
prof and h angstttt plsssss
The Professor Series
Harry knew Y/n. He knew her favorite authors and composers; he knew her favorite constellations, how she liked to sleep curled up into a ball when she had stomach cramps, and how she took her tea; he knew she wore mismatched socks, that her Southern accent returned when she was tired or tipsy, and that she had a little freckle on her hip; he knew she worked really hard but wanted to try to take herself less seriously sometimes; he knew the things that made her laugh and what she got excited about; he knew what places to kiss to make her blush and that she appreciated when he listened to her lectures before she gave them, even if he didn't quite understand.
It was safe to say Harry knew his love, inside and out.
But the person he was faced with now he almost didn't recognize.
It wasn't uncommon for Y/n to be asked to consult on particularly difficult cases that local police departments were struggling with. Y/n often looked over the case files and any other bits of information as it came in, gave her profile, and that was that. Each case lasted about a week, maybe more, but they always had successful outcomes.
Harry had been away on tour while Y/n was teaching in Cambridge. They missed each other obviously, but Harry started to worry when he didn't hear from her for almost two weeks. A few days wasn't out of the ordinary, mostly because Y/n forgot to respond to texts or answer a phone call, but she usually got back to him within a day or two; if she was working on a particularly difficult case, maybe more.
But this was a whole two weeks. They’d never gone that long without talking to each other. There had been no fights or disagreements that would warrant a silent treatment from Y/n, so it couldn’t have been on purpose. But Harry couldn’t come up with a reason that was good enough for Y/n to not speak to him.
So, despite the pushback from his management team, Harry rescheduled a couple shows so he could fly home and see what was going on. They didn't want him to leave, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Harry arrived at Y/n’s townhouse late at night. The door was unlocked, which was almost as unusual as the mess he found in the front room when he came inside.
He'd never seen Y/n's home in such disarray before. Books were scattered everywhere, takeaway cartons and half finished mugs of tea and coffee littered every surface in her kitchen and living room, and all the curtains were drawn closed, casting the whole space in a stuffy gloom. Harry almost couldn't believe his eyes. Y/n scolded him when he didn't use a coaster, and now there was week-old food sitting on her coffee table.
Y/n was nowhere to be found, though, which meant she was in her bedroom. Harry worried about what he would find on the other side, but whatever was going on with her, she needed him.
She was sitting at her desk, her back to him as she bent over it and read something. She didn't even flinch or turn around when the door opened, like she hadn’t even heard Harry come in.
“Y/n, darling,” he said.
She turned, tired and unfocused eyes landing on Harry without much emotion. “Oh. You’re here. Did you call?”
Harry had never seen her so out of it before. He suddenly realized that Y/n wouldn’t have known what day it was let alone the last time they’d spoken. He felt completely out of his depth, but he tried his best to tread lightly.
“No. No, I wanted to surprise you. How—How are you?”
“Busy,” Y/n said immediately. “I have this really difficult case, so I can’t talk right now.”
He guessed as much, but even difficult cases Y/n had worked on in the past never reduced her to this. Her hair was a tangled mess at the nape of her neck, she only had one sock on, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t changed her clothes in days. Harry was suddenly glad he listened to his instincts and came here.
“I know it's important, love, but so is taking care of yourself,” he said. “Why don’t you take a break and clear your head? We can eat and watch a documentary or something.”
Harry rested his hand on her arm, but he quickly realized that was the wrong move. Y/n wrenched her arm away from him, her eyes lit with irritation.
“Take a break? I can’t take a break! There is no time for breaks,” she yelled. Harry was immediately stunned. Y/n had never raised her voice at him, or anyone else for that matter. “Young women, someone's wife or daughter or sister is dying, and they will continue to die if I can't figure this out, don't you understand that?”
“I know, that, Y/n. Of course I understand, but you’ll have a clearer head if you—”
“Don't baby me! I didn't ask you to be here, so just leave me alone. I need to work, I need to figure this out, I need...”
She ignored him after that, and Harry could tell that he'd been dismissed. He also knew there was no use reasoning with Y/n when she was this upset, so he left her to her own devices and left her alone like she'd asked.
Going back into the living room, Harry began to clean. He picked up and straightened stray books, folded blankets, threw out old food. He found comfort in doing something rather than just twiddling his thumbs while he thought of some way to reach Y/n like this.
Because the truth was as well as he knew her, he'd never seen her like this before, and he didn't know how to be there for her, or how to bring her out of this darkness she seemed to be in. He knew how much these cases meant to her, how much she valued helping people, but this was different. It seemed almost personal.
By the time Harry had swept the floors and washed all the dishes and fed the Emperor and Faye Winter, who had been lounging on their cat tree—they at least seemed unaffected by Y/n’s unusual behavior—Y/n still had yet to come out of her room. Harry knew then that she wouldn't be coming out at all, and that he should probably get comfortable on the couch.
All night he worried about her. Every couple hours or so, Harry would hear Y/n pacing her room or cursing quietly or throwing what sounded like sheets of paper around after crumpling them up. She was frustrated, that much was clear, but all Harry could do was lay on the couch and listen. In the morning, Harry decided to keep giving Y/n space and went about his day like he normally would when he stayed at the townhouse. He sat and read some emails while the cats cuddled him on either side, he went into town to restock Y/n’s fridge, and he kept cleaning up.
And nothing. Y/n didn’t make an appearance the whole day. Not to eat or acknowledge that he was there or say hello to the Emperor and Faye Winter. Harry could hear her shuffling around in her bedroom like she'd done all night, but she never came out. By the time the sun was going down, he started to worry more than he already had been.
The problem was he didn't know what to do. Harry had never dealt with anything like this before. He thought he had a grasp on reaching Y/n and understanding what she needed and how, but she shut him out so fast and lashed out so intensely. This obviously wasn't a typical case, something must've happened to make her react this way, but Y/n wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.
And there was no one who could give Harry insight either. For all intents and purposes, he was Y/n's family. She didn't have relatives she spoke to regularly, not many close friends, no one who might have ever seen her act like this way before. And her mother certainly wasn't an option; Harry didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having to call her at all, and he didn't think she would know anything about this anyway.
All night Harry stayed up brainstorming. He wracked his brain for someone who might know Y/n and how to help. And when he did, he went to work on tracking them down. Harry had decided on contacting one of her old professors after recalling Y/n speaking fondly of one a couple times. It took time figuring out where he was and how to get a hold of him, but he eventually did. Harry called every ten minutes and left message after message with some secretary until he eventually got through.
“This is Dr. Moore.”
He sounded old, but Harry didn’t take the time to wonder what this person looked like. “Hello. My name is Harry, and I believe you know a close friend of mine. Y/n L/n.”
“Ah yes,” Dr. Moore said. “I haven’t heard from Y/n since she only had one PhD. How is she?”
“N—Not great,” Harry said. He proceeded to word-vomit the whole situation, his stress and anxiety about his love's well-being pouring out of him over the phone. “I—I've never seen her like this before and I'm not really sure what to do. She won't talk to me or leave her room. I was just hoping you might know something or had seen her...behave like this before.”
The professor didn't say anything for a while, hopefully gathering his thoughts. “She's rather well-adjusted for someone who has seen and experienced so much,” he finally said. “But you have to understand that she's...different from the rest of us. She has a gift that no one else has or can really make sense of.”
“She’s more than her intelligence, Doctor—”
“I don’t mean it like that, Harry,” Dr. Moore said softly. “She's a genius, she's brilliant, but that doesn't come without its faults. Many brilliant minds suffer from a little madness, Y/n is no different.”
It was like Harry could hear what Dr. Moore was saying, but he didn't want to believe him. “Y/n isn't crazy.”
“I didn’t say she was. But she has a tendency to be obsessive, loses track of time, hyperfocuses on a singular subject. Surely you've noticed that.”
“Yeah, but...It’s never been this bad, I mean, this is extreme.”
Harry didn't like the professor's insinuations, or how helpless he was making him feel. Harry knew Y/n, he knew her. She wasn't mad, she wasn't sick, she just needed a little help.
“I realized quite early on that Y/n never took failure...lightly. For someone like her, being wrong is a tough pill to swallow. Perhaps start there?”
“Right, thanks,” Harry muttered. This phone call was a bust. All it gave him was more stress.
He was about to hang up the phone when Dr. Moore spoke again. “Harry, Y/n is exceptional, and that doesn't come without its own bevy of...adversities. But Y/n is strong, and she has a good head on her shoulders, even after everything she's been through. I imagine just showing that you're there for her will be enough. Don't crowd her, but be close enough to catch her when she falls, as you've already done. Her family was never patient enough to love her the way she needed, I hope you can be that for her.”
Harry hung up after that, not having anything to say to the professor. A glance at his phone told him it was three in the morning, but he got up from the couch and chanced going into Y/n's room anyway.
She was pacing and muttering to herself incoherently, but Harry didn't let that bother him. Y/n noticed him but said nothing, and neither did he. He just got into bed, picked up a book off her nightstand, and began to read.
Y/n was quiet for a moment, and Harry could feel her gaze on him, but he kept quiet, and she eventually went back to pacing. It wasn't easy, but Harry did his best to just ignore her, have his presence known without talking to her directly like Dr. Moore suggested. He hoped that Y/n would come to him in her own time.
His eyes burned, begging him to finally go to sleep, the words on the book in front of him blurred. He was exhausted, but he was determined not to lie down. Not until Y/n was in bed next to him.
“You know, sometimes I find it helpful if I talk about things out loud.”
An invitation to open up, a small one after about an hour of silence. He didn't really expect Y/n to take the bait, but she did, kind of.
“What do you mean?”
Setting his book down, he said, “Well, all your thoughts are swirling around in your head. It might be helpful to just say them out loud, like bouncing a ball against a wall.”
She began to explain in loose terms what she was working on and what her thoughts were about the case. And once she started, it all came pouring out of her. “I—I failed. I gave a profile, they arrested someone, but it was the wrong person. I’m—I’m never wrong.”
“It’s not your job to make the arrests,” Harry said gently.
“People are relying on me! Women are continuing to die at the hands of some monster because I can’t—because I couldn’t—”
Y/n shook her head and went back to her desk, shuffling pages around. Harry sighed. He knew what the problem was, but now he knew for certain that Y/n wasn't going to rest until she fixed her mistake. He didn’t bother trying to convince her that this wasn’t her fault, that would be useless right now. But he had to do something.
Getting up from the bed, Harry trudged over to the desk. He rested his hands on either side of her and rested his cheek on top of her head. “Are you so sure that you were wrong and the police weren’t?” he asked.
“They would’ve found the right person if I was right. I must’ve missed something,” she said, shaking her head.
“More than one person can fit a profile, can’t they?”
Y/n exhaled harshly through her nose. “That’s what I tried to tell local police, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m—I’m missing something.”
Harry kissed the top of her head and began to knead the tension out of her shoulders. “Did you think you were right before?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Give me a percentage.”
Whistling, he said, “I’d take those odds.”
“These are people’s lives, Harry, not a craps table. Lives are being lost because—”
“Because terrible people exist,” Harry interrupted. “You didn’t kill those people, Y/n.”
She wiped at her eye harshly. “I can’t help but feel responsible,” she sniffled.
“I know,” he said. “But I believe in you. I believe you can figure this out. But not by running yourself ragged. You can’t work like this.”
“I can’t sleep,” she said, voice trembling. “I won’t. Not until—”
“Okay,” Harry said.
Harry made himself comfortable on the floor beside Y/n’s desk. He was exhausted, his back hurt from his night on the couch, but he couldn’t go to sleep. Not until she did.
“What are you doing?” Y/n asked him, brows furrowed curiously.
He tilted his head back and gave her a sleepy smile. “You stay up, I stay up.”
Y/n looked like she wanted to say more, but her focus was quickly pulled back to the papers on her desk.
Harry didn’t remember falling sleep, but one minute he was watching Y/n work at her desk and providing noncommittal hums as she bounced ideas off him, and the next he was blinking his eyes open, his body stretched out on the floor. There was a pillow under his head and a blanket strewn across his body, an extra pillow beside him. Y/n was sitting in front of him with her legs crossed, a mug in her hands as she watched Harry sleep.
“You fell asleep around 5:15,” she said, taking a sip while Harry sat up. His back popped and strained, clearly not a fan of another sleep on something that wasn’t a bed. “I would’ve carried you to the bed, but you’re a bit heavy for me.”
As his head cleared, Harry noticed that Y/n’s hair was wet and her eyes were clearer. She was in a fresh set of clothes and her desk seemed relatively put together.
“Did you figure it out?” he asked, his voice still scratchy with sleep.
Y/n nodded. “A little while after you fell asleep. I got an email about an hour ago. They arrested the right person.”
“That’s good,” Harry said, squeezing her knee. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I just, um, I just got a different email. From an old professor.”
“Oh.” Well, that didn’t take long. “What did he say?”
“That he had the most interesting conversation with a close friend of mine,” Y/n said. Setting her mug down, she tugged her knees to her chest. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Harry could barely focus on anything but his stiff neck, but he tried to shake his head. “I’m almost positive you don’t.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she said. “I—I don’t need to be fixed.”
“That—That’s not what I’m thinking,” Harry said frowning. “I don’t think that at all, Y/n.”
“Then why did you call him?”
Harry rubbed at his face tiredly. “I wanted to help you. I didn’t know how, so I asked for some help of my own.”
“I don’t need to be handled like some child.”
“Two weeks, Y/n,” Harry said, voice sharpening the slightest bit. Because for a moment, Y/n had frightened him. Not because he thought she was crazy or mentally unwell, but because he didn’t know how to reach her, and he always knew how to get through to her. “I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, and I come back here and the house is a mess, you’re not eating, you’re driving yourself—”
“Don’t say it!” she blurted. “Don’t say that I’m crazy, Harry. I’m not. I just...get a little sidetracked. I’m not—I’m not crazy.”
Harry could see it in Y/n’s face, then. The fear. She didn’t want him believing what she already believed about herself to some degree. He wondered how many times someone had told her that she was, or implied it. Harry had a feeling no one had ever taught her how to fail, or accept failure. Y/n was exceptional, but she wasn’t perfect, no one was, but she’d been brought up believing her knowledge had no bounds. She was taught how to fly, but no one taught her how to fall, and when she did, they blamed her for not figuring it out herself.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, because you’re not,” he said. “But I do worry when I you don’t come out of your room for a few days. I’m allowed to worry.”
Y/n had been looking down at her lap, but when she finally looked at him, there were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Harry let the corner of his mouth curve into a smile. “For making me sleep on the couch yesterday? Water under the bridge.”
Y/n’s responding grin was small, but it was there, and Harry found himself wanting to make it bigger.
Joining him on the floor, they both laid back down. Y/n rested her head on Harry’s chest while he wrapped his arms around her. For a few minutes, they didn’t say anything, but before he fell back asleep, he found himself saying, “You know, I know I’m not as smart as you or anything, but I do know a thing or two about work ethic. I can help you find a balance.”
Y/n gave no indication that she agreed or disagreed. For a moment, Harry thought she’d already fallen asleep when he felt her nod. “I’d like that. But I think...I think I need to take some time off. Maybe just focus on teaching for now.”
“Yeah. I want to,” Y/n yawned. “I want to scale back. Just teach, travel, maybe get a Master’s degree.”
Harry laughed. Only Y/n would think going back to school for another degree would be considered “scaling back.” But he couldn’t be prouder that she was taking the right steps to treat herself better.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. He kissed the top of her head as he waited for her to respond, but she didn’t. Y/n kept quiet, her breaths keeping time with his until he realized she was asleep. Breathing a sigh through his nose, Harry stared up at the ceiling and hoped she had a dreamless sleep.
A/N: the pic screamed to be turned into somethig dirty, so here we are
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
SUMMARY: There's just something incredibly delicious about seeing Harry sunbathing.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
That’s what comes to your mind when you see your boyfriend spread out on the sunbed like a starfish.
Like a sexy, slightly sweaty starfish with thighs that make your mouth water and a sight of his naked chest that’s screaming to be touched.
You chug down the rest of your cocktail that you’ve been sipping by the bar and excuse yourself from the conversation before making your way over to Harry. He looks peaceful, his skin is glistening in the sun and you very much like the tan he’s gotten lately. You eye how he rolled his shorts up so the sun can reach more of his thighs, the tiger tattoo is out in the public. You don’t want to look like a creep, but you want to snap a picture of him like this so badly. You fight the urge and just climb to the bed, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his sternum to let him know you’re here.
“Mm, I really hope it’s you, Y/N,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes closed, but his hand that lies closer to you moves up and finds your thigh as you sit on your heels next to him.
“And what if it’s not?” you huff, pretending to be hurt he would let another woman touch him like that. A smirk spreads across his face before he finally peeks at you.
“I know what your tongue feels like on me, knew it was you.”
You smack his thigh and then leave your hand there, giving it a squeeze, feeling up his muscles under your palm. Harry closes his eyes again and you shamelessly eye him up. The line of his sternum running between his pecks, the gentle outline of his ribs, the fern tattoos that run right above his swimming trunks… You’re feeling yourself getting wet and he is not even doing anything, just lying in the sun, getting tanned.
Your hand wanders higher and higher on his thigh until your fingers brush underneath the fabric, moving dangerously close to what’s hiding underneath.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a husky tone.
“Nothing?” you reply, but keep brushing your touch over him, gently scratching him with your nails. A low growl bubbles from him as his muscles twitch under your palm. His hand cups your leg again and he squeezes you, but doesn’t say or do anything.
You want him. So badly that you’re afraid if you stand up your bikini bottom might be drenched from your arousal. But he doesn’t seem to get what you’re trying to imply, he is still lounging without a care, so you decide to make it clear what you want from him.
Leaning forward you get on top of him and kiss his lips softly before moving your mouth to his ear.
“If I don’t have your cock down my throat in the next five minutes, I’m gonna have to find someone else to fulfill my needs.”
His eyes pop open, you knew this would get him going, it’s your joker card to play with his jealousy and this time is no exception either.
“I’m sweaty,” he warns you, but it just riles you up even more.
“Room, now,” he orders and gets up so fast you can’t hold back a chuckle.
He grabs his towel and phone in one hand, the other closing around your wrist as he pulls you after him, not even dropping a word to his friends and colleagues lounging around as well. It’s just the two of you in the elevator and as soon as the door slides closed you jump at each other, mouths clashing, hands grabbing at each other and you palm him almost too aggressively, feeling him growing harder with each passing second. Arriving at your floor you basically sprint out and down the hallway to your room, you’re kissing his jaw, licking his neck as he tries to open the door with the keycard, but he can barely find the reader with your hand gripping his cock.
“Fuck,” he groans when the door finally clicks open and you practically fall into the room.
“I need your cock,” you whimper and the two of you don’t even make it to the bed before you drop to your knees on the carpeted floor and tug down his trunks eagerly, setting his cock free finally.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes out when you grab the base and lick him up, wrapping your lips around the head as his hand moves to the back of your head and he gives you a little push as you take him into your mouth finally.
There are occasions when you like to take your time, taste him, play with him, but this is not what you want now. You need rawness, you need him fast and hard and you want him to fuck your mouth like he means it.
You don’t have to speak for him to know what goes on in your head, just one look up at him is enough for him to get the message.
“Such a needy little thing. Want me to fuck your pretty mouth?”
You nod and bob your head, pressing your tongue against him in your mouth.
“Gonna make you gag on my cock, princess,” he breathes out before he takes your head in both his hands to keep you secured in his hold and he starts thrusting with his hips, his cock moving in and out of your mouth rapidly.
He keeps hitting the back of your throat, saliva is running down your chin and tears are dwelling in your eyes but you want him to keep going and use you.
“Touch yourself,” he grunts, always thinking about you as well.
With one hand you grab onto his ass, fingers sinking into the flexing muscles while the other one moves between your legs, dipping under the fabric of your bikini. Wetness coats your fingers as you swipe them between your lips, smearing your arousal over your clit before you start working on it.
Your jaw is sore and you keep gagging as he goes deeper in your mouth with each thrust, but it’s what keeps you going. You see his chest rising and falling rapidly, his skin is glistening from the sweat that’s now not only because of the sun, but you as well. He looks so delicious, you want this sight tattooed into your mind forever.
“Shit, I’m gonna come, baby,” he warns and you know it’s a question too. He wants to know where you want him to come, so you push your nails into his ass, letting him know you want his cum dripping down your throat.
Your hand is vigorously moving on your clit, bringing yourself closer and closer to your own orgasm, but you can’t catch up with Harry. A few more thrusts later he comes hard and loud, your name falling off his tongue over and over again as his movements fall out of rhythm. You keep your eyes locked on his face, drinking up the sight of his orgasm, the way he is gasping for air, his eyes roll to the back of his head and his chest waves from the excitement.
He pushes your head away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a sloppy sound and you swallow every drop of cum, showing him your empty mouth when it’s gone. He wastes no time to pull you up from the floor and kiss you hard on the lips before he turns you around, locking your body against his with one arm while his other hand moves to replace yours in your bikini bottom.
“Harry!” you cry out when his fingers start rubbing on your clit, applying just the perfect amount of pressure. He knows your body almost better than you do, because he builds your orgasm up so fast, it’s ridiculous how he does it without even pushing a finger inside you. Harry knows penetration is not everything, that the right moves at the right spot could do more than just shoving two fingers up your pussy.
Your head drops back to his shoulder as you arch against him, his free hand coming up to grope your breast, making it spill out of your bikini top. You’re throbbing, aching for release and Harry doesn’t disappoint.
You come hard, screaming his name, shaking in his hold, you push against him with so much force he stumbles back and flops down to the edge of the bed, pulling you with him, holding you tight in his embrace as you sit on his lap. You gasp for air, coming off your high while he keeps kissing your shoulder, neck and the side of your head.
“That was…” you hum, but don’t find the right words.
“Love it when you get horny randomly,” he chuckles. You crane your neck to look back at him with a sloppy grin.
“Can’t help it, you looked so delicious.”
He just grins and kisses you, this time it’s slow and lazy and when you feel him growing hard again underneath you, there’s no wasted time as you push him back on the bed and climb over him.
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