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weasleyreidstyles · 5 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter two

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slight mind manipulation?

series masterlist; previous part; next part

At some point during the feast, you managed to sneak your way onto the Gryffindor table, sliding into the seat beside Ginny, who was sat with Dean Thomas to her other side, who shifted uncomfortably everytime Ron glared at the hand that was grazing his sister's.

"Nice face, Harold." you say sarcastically. "Who healed the break? It looks rushed."

"Thanks Meadow." he snarks before deflating further in his seat as your eyes tracked him for more injuries. "Tonks walked me from the train."

You hummed in acknowledgment before you went over the unhealed scabs and dried patches of blood with wordless spells which always left your friends marvelling at your skill.

"There. Now your face is pretty as ever." you say smirking, patting Harry's cheek which he swats away. "Can't have the 'Chosen One' at his worst now, can we?"

"Piss off." he grumbled but it was only banter between two friends.

"How are you, really, Harry? Where'd you disappear to on the train." you wanted to hear him say it, even if you did trust Theo's word.

"I was right about Malfoy-" he starts before you interrupt him.

"So I've heard. You've taken up stalking as a hobby now, Potter? That's low." you chuckle, which turns into a full on laugh as he glares at you, annoyed.

"He's a Death Eater." he lowers his voice, but his admission sucks the happiness right out of the air. "He was talking about some task that Voldemort has for him."

He pauses as if his mind is trying to catch up with the words tumbling from his mouth, before he looks directly at you, as if he's staring through you.

"You've seen Nott today right? And Parkinson?" you nodded. "What did they talk about? Did Nott talk about his father being caught at the Ministry? Or did-"

You raised a singular brow at your friend as if to say 'are you finished?'.

"Yes I saw them today, in the Prefects' carriage. We just caught up with small talk and some gossip about some Hufflepuff couple. Nothing more." the lie was quickly thought out and also not too far fetched – Pansy had mentioned something about a new couple in passing before you'd parted ways on the train.

"Nothing about tasks or creepy shops?" Ron asked as he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. You watched him, discust painting your features.

"Nothing about tasks, and certainly nothing about creepy shops. Please chew with your mouth closed, Ronald. Seriously Harry? Stalking?"

He only shrugged at you before turning to his plate of food. He was clearly put out about something and you would bet all your galleons that it had to do with the couple next to you, who were being nauseating, to put it lightly.

You and Hermione giggled as Ron muttered about his sister and her boyfriend showing any ounce of affection in front of him, sharing a glance as Harry continued to glance at them before looking away, visibly annoyed.

When Dumbledore began to stand in front of the House tables, you slipped back into your seat beside Luna; in the corner of your eye you watched as Theo gave you the subtlest of nods.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore announced, smiling broadly, his arms outstretched wide as if he were embracing the whole room. That's when you, and the rest of the Hogwarts student body, noticed that his right hand appeared to have started decaying at a rapid rate.

You made eye contact with Pansy who looked as horrified as everyone else.

What the fuck? She practically screamed into your mind as the sound of people whispering swept through the hall.

Dumbledore merely smiled before he shook the sleeve of his purple and gold cloak over his hand.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."

You drowned out the rest of his speech, like you do every year, instead conversing with Pansy in your head.

It looks like his hand has physically died. You say to her. It's got to be dark magic of some sort.

But what business does Dumbledore have messing with that sort of evil? She sounded as nauseated as you felt just thinking about it.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" Dumbledore said, prompting the man that you had yet to meet to stand up. "-is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

You swivelled in your seat to find Hermione in the crowds and mouthed 'potions?' to her with confusion written all over your face.

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"But if he's the Potions Professor, then who will be teaching Defence?" Cho spoke from across the table.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Well that answered that question.

"No!" you giggled quietly with Luna as everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Harry, who had shouted so loudly but didn't seem to care, Snape and Dumbledore.

And suddenly Defence is my least favourite subject. Theo spoke, making you choke on your drink as you laugh.

As if oblivious to the uproar his announcement just caused, Dumbledore waited only a few moments before the hall descended into silence once more, before continuing his long winded speech.

"Now as everyone in this Hall is aware," he pointedly looked anywhere but in the direction of the Slytherin table, "Lord Voldemort and his followers once again walk among us and gain strength and numbers everyday."

Suddenly the heads that were staring in Harry's direction turned pointedly to where Mattheo Riddle and his friends were sitting. Instead of shying away from their gazes, like Pansy and Daphne Greengrass and few others did, he continued to stare ahead at Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was garnering.

The silence seemed to strain painfully as Dumbledore spoke. But you seemed to zone out of what he was saying. Something about the castle's protection wards being fortified and strengthened; extra security; stricter curfew at night, etc. You took in none of it, instead focusing on your friends at the Slytherin table, who grew paler by the second. You'd watch out for them this year, especially Theo. None of them deserved to be put into the position they no doubt would all be in, come Christmas time.

Dumbledore's blue twinkling eyes swept over the students once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Your lessons tomorrow.

You wished it was as simple as school work, but you knew it would be anything but.

~∞~

You woke up early the next morning, the anticipation for what the day may bring making your anxiety skyrocket as you got ready to leave for the Great Hall, in which the ceiling sported a brilliantly blue sky, only a few clouds dotting the illusion. You met the Golden trio there, who were busy discussing Harry's theory about Malfoy.

"Well obviously Riddle's already inducted." Ron muttered as you sat down, a speck of blue, in a sea of red. "He is his father's son, after all."

"Still going on your Malfoy-is-a-death eater spiel? The day has hardly begun." you said as you piled scrambled eggs onto a plate, ignoring the pointed look that Professor Mcgonagall gave you as she handed out her House's timetables.

Ron seemed to be getting more agitated by the second as another group of third years on the table beside your's pointed between the four of you and whispered, not so discreetly, about what happened in June.

"It's rude to point." he snapped, sending a glare their way, causing them to turn around, cheeks painted with embarrassment.

"So sixth year looks very bare in comparison to last year, doesn't it." you say, steering Ron's glare from the backs of their heads while you looked over his timetable.

"I love being a sixth year already." Ron said, his mood brightening visibly thanks to your interference. "And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up in the common room and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione berated as you laughed.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, Ronald." you say with a smirk as Professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to the four of you. You'd already gotten your timetable the from Professor Flitwick that morning and found out that you were in the same classes as Hermione. You both finished off your plates and left Harry and Ron in favour of getting to Ancient Runes, where Theo and Riddle were waiting for you.

Reaching the classroom, you spotted Theo immediately and went to snag the seat beside him, but Pansy beat you to it with a playful smirk.

"Come and sit by me, Princess." you glared at your two friends as you turned around to find Riddle with his arm stretched over the back of the spare seat of his desk. "I don't bite."

"Somehow I highly doubt that." you mumbled as you searched for Hermione, who had chosen to sit near the front of the room, the seat beside her already taken. Traitor. She only looked at you apologetically before turning around.

You slumped into the seat, pointedly ignoring him as you took out your things. You could hear Theo and Pansy laughing at your expense so you sent a small stinging jinx wandlessly their way, smirking when they yelped in surprise.

"Smart girl." Riddle mumbled to himself, probably not intending for you to hear, but your cheeks flushed all the same.

"So was Theo lying about your disastrous ability to desipher runes, or was that just a way to get me to agree for your...help?" you ask, still choosing to igore him.

"Oh I assure you I'm quite terrible, Princess. Awful. In fact I'm not sure how I got back into this class, if I'm being entirely honest." he said it with a shrug before he smirked at you again. "I'm sure you can help me. You are top of the class, after all."

"Actually Mione was top of the class at the end of last year. Why not ask her?" you ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. He had turned to look directly at you, but his hand was still on the back of your chair.

You try, and fail, to push it off, sneering at the muscular appendage in offence. Damn him and his strong, quidditch arms.

"Theodore doesn't trust Granger, he trusts you. Therefore, I'm putting my trust into your...abilities to help me out."

Lovely. His words carried a double meaning. You were really considering hexing Theo and Pansy again for putting you in this situation.

His huff of laughter along with the burning pinch at the base of your skull were the only indications that he'd heard your thoughts.

After Defence, wait for me so that we can discuss the nature of your lessons and my apparent tutlage.

You ignored him for the rest of the lesson, but wordlessly agreed, nonetheless.

~∞~

You were complaining to Hermione the whole walk to the Defence classroom, and while she was amused, there was underlying worry in her responses.

"So he wants you to tutor him?" she asks curiously.

"Not a clue why." you say flipantly. "If I was him I'd much rather you taught me."

"Well I am a muggleborn, for starters." she says self-depricatingly and continues speaking, not allowing you to rebute her statement. "And you're still at the top of the class. Christ, you can do most spells non-verbally and wandlessly, far better than I can. I think I'd rather you than me, too. No offence."

You only smiled sarcastically at her. "I don't think anyone would willingly tutor him. Perhaps I should bargain a favour with him instead."

You left out the part where he was already fulfilling a kind of favour, for Theodore and Pansy, no less.

"One class in and my shoulders already ache." you whine as you rolled your shoulder to ease the pain that your heavy bag was causing. Harry and Ron met you outside the classroom a moment later, staring, horrified, at Hermione's armful of heavy books.

"We've gotten so much homework for Runes already." she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Now I see why we have so many frees this year." you grumble.

"Shame," Ron said with a yawn, before smirking at the two of you.

"Just you wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

The Defence classroom was gloomier than ever, but thankfully it was no longer sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with plates of cat photos. The dark curtains were drawn across the windows and the only light came from the numerous candles that dotted the room, insighting a headache when you tried to read the blackboard. Snape's personality appeared to shine all over the room, from the odd portraits to the weird contraptions that littered the space.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and I require your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

His dark, beady eyes scanned the room.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." he set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a low voice that you desperately wanted to drown out. But the burning sensation at the back of your skill prohibited you from doing just that.

No. Pay attention. Riddle was becoming a thorn in your side, and its only the first day.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Each time a neck is severed, it sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Someone read up on their Greek mythology this summer. You say to Theo, who smirks behind his hand.

"Your defences," Snape continued, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse-" he waved a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony; "-feel the Dementor's Kiss-" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall; "-or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

You really did drown him out this time. Thinking about his wording. To your knowledge, only his followed gave him the name 'the Dark Lord', so why was Snape using that name? You filed away the information as he paced across the classroom.

"....you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, pointledly looking in your direction where your hands stayed glued to your sides, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she stated, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."

The Professor's beady eyes landed on you once more, a challenge present in them.

"Miss Meadow, come up to the front." everyone's eyes were on you as he beckoned you forward, so you obeyed. "I want you to demonstrate this skill. On me." He motioned for you to stand on one side of the room, while he stayed at the other.

You shook off your limps and, using your wand rather than just doing it wandlessly, you shot out a disarming spell, which Snape blocked.

"Good. Now try again." he said as he shot his own disarming spell at you, which you wordlessly blocked with a flick of your wand.

This back and forth continued for five or so more minutes before Snape managed to catch you off guard and disarm you with a minute flick of his wrist.

"Very good. Now following that example, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

People paired off, you choosing to partner with Mione who looked determined to perfect this new skill. Everyone who was part of the DA in the previous year were practically experts at casting spells, but none of them, bar you, could perform the Charms wordlessly. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud, including Ron, which only made you laugh as you watched as Harry blocked his every attack.

Of course, Hermione had gotten the hang of it within ten minutes of practice, as did Theo and Zabini and Riddle. Harry and Ron were still struggling, along with Pansy and Lorenzo.

To say you were bored was an understatement. Snape had already known that you were skilled with wordless and apparently wandless magic too, which meant that he could clearly see into your mind – yet another reason why Riddle needed to teach you control. The only other interesting thing to happen was Harry blatently sassing your Professor, which left you and Hermione gaping and Ron, Dean and Seamus grinning at him.

Once the lesson had ended, Snape in a more abysmal mood than usual after Harry made a fool out of him, you lingered in the corridor, waiting for Riddle to leave so that you could get the interaction over with.

"Hey Meadow! You coming?" Ron asked loudly from the end of the hallway. He looked at you with an odd expression on his face which morphed into unwilling understanding when you felt Theo's presence beside you.

"I'll be there in a bit. I'll meet you in the courtyard." you shout back as you turn towards Theo and his friends.

"Some lesson that was, right tesoro?" Theo asks you as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulder, steering you in the direction of the rest of his group, who were looking between you, Theo and Mattheo with matching expressions on their faces.

"What the hell is she doing here, Nott?" Malfoy asks, looking at you with distain. You glared back at him, about to respond when his familiar deep voice answers instead.

"She's here for me." Riddle says. "Go on ahead. I won't be a moment."

Its Zabini who steers Malfoy away from his glaring contest with you, and Theo who wordlessly wishes you luck with a pat to the top of your head.

"So you're going to teach me control?" you ask as you lean against the nearest wall. He rolls his eyes and wraps a giant hand around your wrist.

"Yes." he hissed. "But not here. How stupid are you? Talking about it out in the open, by a classroom, nonetheless."

Your eyes only widened in mild surprise as he began dragging you down the corridor in the direction that his friends went, but he turned into an empty broom cupboard instead.

"Salazar, if you wanted to get me alone like this there were far better ways of asking Riddle." you say sarcastically, but your eyes show a teasing challenge as you stare up at him.

"Was that an offer, Princess?" he asks with that wicked smirk of his.

"Read the room, Riddle. I'd rather sleep with a troll." you snark.

"Suit yourself." he chuckles before his face sets into that serious look he seems to have mastered in his years at Hogwarts. "The first step to learning full control is learning how to ground yourself."

You look at him expectantly which made him roll is eyes.

"You have to find a happy medium in your head that allows you to keep control of what you don't want people to see, and who you let into your head." he explains motioning to his own head as he speaks.

"So that horrible burning feeling in the back of my skull whenever you get in my head-" you begin.

"Is only there because it lets you know that someone unwanted is using Occlimency on you. The fact that you can't block me out is what we need to work on. Does the same happen with Theodore and Pansy when you communicate with them?"

"No. They're presence is wanted. Yours," you trail your eyes up and down what you can see of his tall frame in the dark, "is not."

"Well until you do accept me in your subconscious, it'll continue to hurt and it'll hurt more when you're trying to block it out." he says and to demonstrate he begins rifling through your thoughts and feelings with little to no effort, that burning sensation appearing like a pinch once again. You cradle you head in your hands, a cry escaping your lips.

Walking to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, anxiety knawing at your insides.

Harry's Malfoy-is-a-death-eater spiel.

Your mini-dual with Snape.

How you want Riddle to rip your clothes right off your body and have him take you-

That wasn't right. You managed to mentally push him right out of your mind with more effort than you reckon it would take for you to haul a quaffle into the goal. It made your head ache.

"What the fuck was that?!" you snap, hitting his arm.

"You're a fast learner. Well done. It takes most people multiple sessions to do what you just did." he looks...proud. It stirs something strange in your gut.

"What did I just do?" you asked, intrigued, scared, confused.

"You just succeeded in blocking me out of your head." he smirked lightly, almost showing a ghost of a smile.

We're going to have lots of fun, Princess.

He was still in your head. His deep voice filling every corner of your mind, but that burning sensation was no longer present. It no longer stung and he was no longer able to rifle through your thoughts. Only converse with you, like you could with Theo and Pansy.

"We'll do this twice a week, until you can block me out without thinking about it." he said as he walked towards the door, leaving you standing motionlessly in the dark.

~∞~

icl the whole plot of this is heavily inspired by my beloved xaden and violet's bond with all their mind talking and arguing🤭🤭 (minus the dragons, etc)

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #professor snape #ravenclaw x slytherin #serendipity series

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skzfairyy · 7 months

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3:47pm

Pairings: Kim Seungmin x reader!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Hints of possessive Seungmin ft. a heated Harry Potter argument lmao

Wc: 1.1k words

AN: We've been hoarding this story forever... Probably right after the live when Seungmin got his braces off hehe. Enjoy!! - Y2K

“Oh, we both know who would’ve won that fight if Hermione wasn’t there.” Jisung stood across from Y/N with his arms crossed.

The two were heatedly debating one of their favorite movie series, Harry Potter. Y/N came by the house earlier that afternoon like usual, a normal Sunday routine that ended with game night and a very chaotic dinner with the boys. Her favorite member, though she might be biased because she is in fact dating him, was currently out running an errand. Leaving her to spend her free time bickering with Jisung until Seungmin came home.

“Hermione being there was the whole point of the scene- to punch Draco in the face. If she wasn’t there it literally makes no sense, Ji.” Y/N counters his argument easily.

The two stood in the kitchen both dressed in sweatpants and their customized tour shirts, perfect for a lazy afternoon at home. Originally they had gone to the kitchen to get snacks before the next movie but got a little sidetracked by their intense conversation. Felix and Chan even popped their heads in to make sure they weren’t arguing over something serious, which happened more times than either of them would like to admit.

“I’m just saying!” Jisung holds his hands up, feigning surrender. “Draco would’ve ended all three of them right there!”

“Jisung! If that scene even turned out in the way you’re implying, it’d ruin the rest of the movie!” Y/N exclaims, the front door of the house opens and closes, but the two are too heated to hear.

“No, it wouldn’t!”

“Did you even watch the rest of the movie?!”

Cue the dramatic gasp.

“How. Dare. You.”

Seungmin’s figure leans against the archway of the kitchen, he’s wearing a simple pair of jeans and a sweater he got from Y/N as a gift last year. He crosses his arms listening to the two with an amused smile on his face. Jeongin emerged from the hallway nearby, smiling at Seungmin in passing before entering the war zone.

“Jeongin-“ Y/N starts, her eyes landing on Seungmin briefly.

“Hey, Min.” Seungmin sends her a small smile in response, chuckling to himself.

“Jeongin, do you agree that Hermione punching Draco was an important plot point in Prisoner of Azkaban?”

The young boy freezes in front of the fridge as he glances at the two before shaking his head.

“Nope. Not getting involved.”

Y/N opens her mouth to respond before her brain finally catches up with what her eyes just saw a moment ago. Her head snaps back towards the entrance of the kitchen and onto her smirking boyfriend.

“Oh, my god!!” She squeals out, abandoning her argument completely and moving over to the quiet man, giving him her full attention.

“I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to notice.” He says quietly after she approaches, failing to hide the smile on his lips.

“What’d I miss?” Jisung asks out loud, a confused look on his face as Jeongin just looks at him and shrugs.

Y/N turned her body a little so the others could see Seungmin’s face as she squished his cheeks, showing the boys their bandmate's new smile.

“Minnie got his braces off!” She announces with the same excitement as earlier.

It’s a known fact that Seungmin doesn’t like much attention on him, especially when it comes to his physical features, but he couldn’t help but feel warm all over at Y/N’s excitement to show him off to their friends. Not to mention how fast she noticed the change despite her heated argument.

He waves her hand off his face after receiving compliments from the other two, the attention becoming a bit too much and takes her hand in his. “I’m taking my girlfriend now, you’ve had her long enough.”

“But-“ Jisung objects.

“Find someone else to bicker with.” Seungmin grumbled.

Y/N waves bye to the boys in the kitchen as she follows Seungmin down the hallway into his bedroom. He releases her hand upon entry, moving to sit on the edge of his bed as Y/N shuts the door.

“Bubs, your smile is so pretty.” The octave of her voice dropped significantly from how she was speaking in the kitchen, the tone was as soft as her hands when they moved to cradle his face as she stood between his legs.

“Really?” Seungmin’s hand finds the back of her thighs and rubs them gently as he feels the tips of his ears grow warm. Here in the privacy of his bedroom, Seungmin selfishly soaks in all of the attention from his partner, allowing another metal-free smile to adorn his lips.

She nods her head and leans forward, peppering his face with kisses. These moments between the couple were rare, as they both tend to cringe at most romantic gestures, especially in public, but every once in a while, they’ll divulge in overly lovey-dovey moments in private with one another.

“You’re pretty too.” Seungmin speaks softly through her affectionate ambush, causing her to let out a small giggle of her own.

“Not like you, Min.” Her hand lifts to run through his brown hair gently with a small smile, her eyes shining as she scans his features quietly.

Seungmin squeezes her thighs in warning. “You’re not going to win an argument with me. Save that sass for Jisung.” His voice was laced with an attitude of his own.

“I’ve got enough to go around.” She shrugs casually.

Taking that as a challenge, he stares up at her for a moment before lifting her body, flipping her onto the bed next to him.

“Seungmin!” She objects with a laugh.

“Shush, my teeth hurt. I just wanna nap with you.” He responds as he lays his head on her stomach, making himself comfortable in one of his favorite positions.

Y/N scoffs as his arms secure themselves around her torso, his eyes already closed while she lays there as his personal pillow. Her hands move to run through his hair yet again, lulling him to sleep.

“After our nap, you have to take my side in the argument with Jisung.” Y/N whispers to him softly.

“Deal.” His body doesn’t even move a muscle as he agrees.

Sure he found the argument completely useless, since the whole point of the movie had way more to do with Harry’s godfather and his story than either of their arguments, but he’ll say that the sky is bright pink with flying pigs and nonstop rainbows if Y/N asks him to.

He was very much whipped for the girl in his arms and everyone knew it. Of course, he’d never say it out loud, but it was shown in other ways. The look in his eye when she laughs, the hidden smile he holds back when she argues with people, but his favorite would be the moments like this.

Just the two of them in their own bubble of privacy, though it’s rare in the chaotic house that Seungmin lives in…

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

masterlist ||

#y2kstories #skz x reader #straykids #seungmin x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #seungmin #skz

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year

Note

Harry pulling y/n on stage with him to honour her with his AOTY award!!!!!!😭😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

#myheartwillburst

GRAMMYS 2023

A/N: student teaching and uni work are really giving it to me so thank you all for being patient with me! 💚

SUMMARY: Highlights from the first award show that YN and Harry attend as a married couple.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married ynrry

SINCE 2010 masterlist

As soon as Harry steps off his side of the Range Rover, he’s immediately extending his hand out to his wife. A loving smirk graces his face at the fact that over her pink embellished gloves, YN wears her wedding ring on her finger. This is the couple’s first major outing since they announced their new martial status online and being at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards only added to the excitement of the night. They’re easily the most anticipated guests of the night; it’s no question since every social media site and news article has named them the couple of the century.

As usual, the couple first needs to take a couple pictures on the red carpet as individuals for promotal purposes before they can take some together.

As they both take their stances at the red carpet, out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see how elegantly she poses for the screaming crowd of men in front of her. She smoothly shifts her head around the flashing lights with a smile that can make anyone’s knees weak. It’s difficult to not even spare a glance at her direction and in turn, YN can’t even hide the way she gives her husband loving looks. He looks absolutely amazing in his pastel patterned jumpsuit, possibly showing off more skin than she is but it’s not like anyone is complaining.

When it’s their time to shift over a spot, YN playfully makes a shooing motion with her hands as he just stays there standing, full on gawking at her. He just shakes his head and pulls her to him and the blinding, flashing lights only increase as they capture the happy couple looking at one another like love-sick teenagers.

“Wait, then lemme stand on your left.”

“Why?” Harry questions as his love shuffles over to his other side, but a boyish smile overtakes his face at her response.

“So I can show off me ring.”

She says it so nonchalantly before placing her hand on his tummy but her words cause such an impact for him. While she looks back towards the paparazzi, he just continues to stare at her that one can practically see the hearts in his eyes. For a good chunk of his life, he’s dreamed of a moment like this: just him and YN on the red carpet, head-over heels in love with each other, and their relationship out in the open. And they’re not here as bandmates, secret lovers, or any of that—they’re here married. Seeing the way her wedding ring sparkles from the flashing lights before them, he could almost cry from how happy he is.

He can’t believe that this is his reality. So instead of questioning it further, of reminiscing in his daydream, he tugs her closer to his side and basks in this stomach flipping, butterfly-flapping feeling.

...

“Oi, I know you!” YN beams at the curly haired photographer who did her Glambot for the past Grammy shows she’s attended.

“I know you,” Cole Walliser teases back as he watches the couple take the short steps up to the platform.

“V’brought a friend this time around,” She jokes and huffs out a laugh when she sees her husband’s dramatic, confused face.

“Friend?”

“Alright, do you guys have any idea on what you both want to do? I think we need this one to be you two together.”

“We can do like, a serious pose that turns into a silly one?” YN suggests.

“I love that idea! Alright, let’s do it,” The photographer claps his hand. “Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Styles.”

Harry brings YN over to stand closer beside him on the designated mark. With her back angled towards the camera, he places a hand on her exposed lower back while she places hers right where the fabric over his tummy ends.

“Hear that, Mrs. Styles,” Harry says lowly in her ear, making her smile. “Friend my ass.”

“Alright, 3...2...1!”

As the camera moves quickly in front of them, the couple share the same ‘I own you’ face that their fans can’t get enough of. After a quick second, Harry breaks out into his dimply, open-mouth smile and his infamous peace sign. YN widely sticks her tongue out with her right eye scrunched closed.

...

“May the best man win,” Harry extends his hand out to her with a smirk.

“Or woman,” His wife gives him a sly smirk of her own as she takes his hand in hers. She can’t help but give him a fond smile when he brings her hand to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

The couple’s nominations are mainly in the same categories. While they joke and jest about how they’re no winner or loosers, another part of them knows that their egos are just too big to not let their competitive sides simmer off to the side.

Even then, as they announce that Harry’s House is the winner for Best Pop Album, nothing but pride and happiness overtakes YN for the man next to her. She’s practically a blubbering mess as she watches Harry take his second Grammy to add onto his shelf.

“Making the album from start to finish has been the greatest experience of my life...aside from getting married, of course,” He huffs out a laugh while looking at his wife. The ceremony cameras turn to YN in between Lizzo and Adele. The two other women laugh and squeeze her a little tighter as she wipes away at the happy tears.

“YN should be up here with me like I asked her to but she insisted that she was the competition so,” He teases as the audience chuckles. In all honesty, when he asked if she could come up with there with him if he were to win any of his categories, she told him that it’s his win, not hers. While she played a major part in making his music, she’d rather have all the attention, all the love, and all the cheering be for him. “From making it with two of my best friends and my YN to playing it to people has been the greatest joy I could have asked for...”

...

“Dare,” YN ultimately decides with a challenging raise of her eyebrow and a tempting smile.

As exciting as these awards shows can be, there are loads of downtime in between commercial breaks or stage performance set ups or even when the host begins to interact with one of the other celebrities in the audience.

As a way to pass the time—and to help calm down their nerves for their upcoming categories—the couple has decided to play an innocent game of Truth or Dare. Well...as innocent as a game can get with the size of their egos. So far, Harry has been dared to cuss in his next acceptance speech, YN has admitted to running off to talk with Cardi B backstage instead of coming to be seated with Harry right away, and Harry revealed that had a wedgie the entire red carpet.

“I dare you to...” Her husband pinches at his bottom lip while his eyes scan the room. She eagerly watches as he looks to somewhere behind her and a dimpled smile overtakes his face. A giggle tumbles past his lips before he says, “I dare yeh to go over to Bad Bunny and ask him if the fruit on the table is real.”

“Hmm...okay.”

Harry tries to cover up his laugh with a cough to his fist as he watches his wife get up from her chair next to him and makes her way over to Bad Bunny. The famous Latin artist is immediately getting up from his seat and greeting her with welcoming arms.

“Hey, you,” YN says in Spanish. “How are you?”

“I’m doing amazing, my love. And you? You look absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you. I’m good, I’m good. Your performance earlier was absolutely amazing.”

It’s true, when he took the stage for the opening of the ceremony, she was already on her feet and moving her hips to the upbeat music. She even pulled Harry out of his seat, held onto both of his hands as she guided him to the beat of the song. She’d be lying if she said that he wasn’t getting better at dancing—this becomes more and more apparent every show on tour he does.

Benito puts a hand over his heart with a shrug, “Thank you, I try. That’s an honor coming from you.”

“You’re too sweet. Hey listen, can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want.”

“So...are we allowed to eat those?” She nods towards the array of delicately sliced and decorated fruits scattered around the center of the small table. “Like are they even real?”

“I think so, my love,” He nods reassuringly with a furrow of his eyebrows, clearly confused by her question but he doesn’t want to come off as rude.

“Cause I’m starving, man, but I don’t want to get in trouble or anything.”

When Bad Bunny leans over the table to get a better look at the fruit, YN playfully widens her eyes at her husband a little bit away, a smile threatening to break out on her lips before she regains her composure once the artist stands upright again.

“Here you go, mama.” YN coos and cups her hands as he hands her slices of cucumber. He takes a thin slice and pops one in his mouth, “They’re all good, sweetheart.”

“Aw, thank you so much. I love you,” She leans closer to him and plants a kiss on both of his cheeks. It’s an odd experience for Harry to feel only a flicker of jealousy at the sight of his love and another man because despite his possessiveness, seeing her walk back over to him, pushing a cucumber slice past her cheeky lips with her wedding ring shining under the roaming lights is enough to dose the same flame.

“If the camera happens to pan over to us, I dare yeh to just dead stare at the camera.”

“Want one? They’re real,” His wife teases before the speakers announce that they’ll be live in 10 seconds. As Trevor begins to prepare to speak with one of the cameramen in front of him, YN leans over to Harry and whispers in his ear, “Truth or Dare?”

His brows pinch together for a second, really seeing if she wanted to continue their little game despite the show starting up again. One look at her tempting smile is all the confirmation he needed, “Dare.”

“And we’re on in three...two...one...”

“Truth or dar—”

“Dare,” A cheeky smirk tugs on his wife’s lips.

“I dare you to do it with me.”

Soon enough, Twitter and every other social media site blows up with people recording the bottom corner of their TV screens to capture how the newlyweds just stare at the camera with a furrow in their brows for an unsettling amount of time.

...

“I have the very special honor of introducing this next performer. I’ve known this man since we were merely sixteen years old and it’s taken him 12 years to finally put a ring on it,” YN smiles and takes a second to let the audience members have their laugh. “This man has made a tremendous impact on me life and to the lives of many others through his heart-touching music to promoting how the world can be a better place if we all show each other just a little bit of kindness. Harry, you are an inspiration to so many people and just know that your kindness does not go unnoticed. Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for my husband, Mister Harry Styles!”

...

“Harry and YN YL-Styles are here tonight, everybody!” The camera captures the way the couple sits happily together. Harry has his right hand securely and protectively resting on YN’s knee. After giving a brief wave to the camera, he secretly boasts when she places her left hand on his to show off the rock on her finger.

“That's right. I mean what can you say about these two that hasn’t been said? Incredible albums, mind-blowing tours, both men and women alike throw their pants at these guys!” Thankful for their media training, they huff out a dry laugh making it seem like a genuine one. It was a silly thought to assume that the host wasn’t going to make a jab at the couple given the way he’s been cracking jokes all evening.

“Easily the world’s sexiest couple. There’s no competition. Sex symbols of the globe. Especially now since they killed off the Green M&M. Give it up for the newlyweds! Congratulations to you both. Come on, another round of applause for these guys!”

The couple give him a polite nod of gratitude and once the cameras and Trevor walk away, Lizzo leans over to them and lets them see the dramatic roll of her eyes. They chuckle at their friend’s reaction and are eternally grateful for her acknowledging the inappropriate comment. Not like the comment like that was new to them, they’ve been receiving that type of commentary ever since they were sixteen years old. One could say that it’s part of the job, of the industry they decided to enter into, but it’s 2023 now. One would think that those comments would be dead at this point. Clearly, it’s not.

“Just to ease all the gears turning in yeh head,” YN leans close to her husband’s attempt to disclose his irrated face (an outsider would assume that nothing’s wrong but she can tell). “I think you were sexy way before they killed off the Green M&M.”

“Fuck off,” Harry huffs out a laugh and it ignites one from her. His one distraught expression is replaced with his eyes squeezing shut, his dimples digging into his cheeks and his nose scrunching up cutely.

...

(performance audio!)

“65th Grammys!” YN’s sweet voice rings throughout the arena. She stands at the center of a grand staircase in her minimal and revealing outfit with a crowd of background dancers around her. “Let’s go! Whoo! You might think I’m crazy, the way I’ve been craving, if I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies...”

The cameramen are able to capture the way a sea of celebrities are all on their feet as they watch YN perform: Lizzo and Adele dance with their hands in the air as they sing along to 34+35, Taylor Swift bounces to the beat of the song with a content smile, Beyonce claps along and mouths along to the lyrics.

And of course, the camera never fails to record how Harry holds a fond dimpled smile as he watches his wife take the stage. All he can think of when he watches her is how good of a performer she is. As nervous as she was to perform at this prestigious award show, she’s absolutely killing it, treating this with the same about of love and passion as any other show on her tour. The audience feeds off of her positive energy and it shows as the entire room dances and sings along.

As the bridge of the song comes on, YN keeps her eyes on the distinguishable white blazer among the crowd. She lowers herself to do her floorwork dance routine with her four core tour dancers and the crowd goes crazy at her sensual moves. Especially when she lays on her tummy while doing the splits, resting her head in her hand while her leg slides across the floor with a bounce of her bum.

Despite the loud crowd, she can hear the ear-piercing whistle from her husband. She can help but huff out a laugh, trying to keep her composure but failing.

...

“And the Grammy goes to....YN, Need To Know!”

YN’s dreaming, she must be. Life certainly doesn’t seem real as she walks up the steps of the stage and hugs non other than Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson after he announces that she won for Best Pop Solo Performance. After hugging her husband and the other two women within her category, she finds herself holding yet another Grammy award in her hands.

“Holy shit!” YN beams. “I have so many people to thank for this award but this one—hands down—goes to me fans. I—” She lets out a genuine laugh, the kind where a snort slips out. The audience members laugh along with her, feeding off of her bubbly energy.

“The fans made this song what it is. I—this song wasn’t even supposed to be on me album! But it got leaked and when the fans gave it so much love, they made it into a single. Never in a million years would I think that this song would get this much love, let alone get one of these so, thank you to all me fans. I love you all very much!”

...

Harry stands beside her at their designated table but rather than looking out at the performers, his eyes are set on YN. A fond smile graces his lips as he sees her dancing and rapping along with every artist that comes out on stage for the 50 Years of Hip Hop Tribute.

He gives her an amused smile when she turns to look up at him, pointing at him aggressively as she sassily raps along to Queen Latifah’s U.N.I.T.Y.

He laughs at her reaction to Busta Rhymes taking the stage. With her eyes still glued to the stage before them, she grips on the flap of his blazer with a shocked, excited smile. She lets out a laugh mixed with a squeal when Rhymes raps his verse from Look At Me Now at lightning speed. Her fingers cover her temples, completely blown out of her mind at the absolute magic that is happening right in front of her.

And when Missy Elliot comes out, YN sways her way in front of Harry. With his arm resting over her shoulder, she takes his dangling hand and while leaning over she moves her hips to the beat of the female legend rapping, “rump shaking” over and over again. She gives him a cheeky look over her shoulder while she does it and when they hear Lizzo and Adele cheering her on, the couple bursts out laughing.

For the rest of the performance, Harry has her back pressed to his chest, arms secured over her shoulders and chest as they lightly bounce together to the beat of the songs.

...

Although neither Harry nor YN won Record of the Year, they both couldn’t be happier that Lizzo was the one to receive the award. As soon as her name was called, the married couple were quickly on their feet, cheering and whistling loudly in celebration for their good friend.

“I also want to thank my girl, YN, over there!” Lizzo points over to where the couple stands with a loud laugh. YN yells out an Oi! Oi! with her hand up, a big smile gracing her face as she looks at one of her dear friends. “Miss m’am, you’ve been such an inspiration to me and I just wanna give you a shout out for helping produce some of my songs. This girl is the one who said this song should be my single!”

The camera turns back to YN as Harry tugs her to his side, throwing an arm over the tops of her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

...

“I see your point,” Riley puts his hands together in an understanding way from his spot at the round table, trying to be as polite as he can towards the elderly woman. “But have you considered listening to his former band mate turned wife’s album MY FUTURE?”

“Hi, I’m Riley and I think YN YLN’s album MY FUTURE is the Album of the Year. I have been a Directioner since the band first started and have been YN-ie since she went solo.”

A vertical video clip plays of an over-excited tween Riley at the barricade of the Take Me Home tour stage. Nineteen year old YN stands as close to the edge of the stage as she possibly can with her arm out towards the superfan. She blows him a kiss and gives him a twiddle of her fingers before walking back over to where the rest of the boys are lined up in a row.

Another clip shows YN decked out in her iconic sparkly blue bodysuit from her current tour standing at the end of the catwalk and pointing to Riley with a beaming smile, recognizing him from the shows he’s been to for the past couple of years.

“Her music is that light at the end of the tunnel, you know? She’s a bad B and sunshine all wrapped into one.” He moves his hands in front of him as he speaks passionately about his favorite artist. “She speaks to everyone through her music—it’s truly for everyone. She has grown so much as a songwriter, a producer, a human being over the past couple of years and this album is a true testament to that.”

...

It’s one thing to be nominated for Producer of the Year for a second time but it’s another to win it a second time. So imagine YN’s utter shock to hear her name be called for possibly the most significant award of her career.

“I would like to thank the academy, my wonderful team, me mum, me fans. And last but not least, I would like to thank my better half, my husband over there—” YN huffs out a laugh when the audience goes into a fit of cheering as the sight of Harry standing and blowing her kisses. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have never chased my dream of becoming a producer. That man has supported me and just encouraged me to work hard and to make music that makes me happy. I love you with all my heart and thank you so much.

To win this award a second year in a row—the first and only female to be nominated and win—” YN takes a step back with her eyes watery, her laughter ringing through the arena as the audience gives her a standing ovation. She can hear Harry’s whistle over all the cheering and clapping, and she couldn't be any happier.

“This is the highlight of me career and quite frankly, the coolest fookin’ thing to ever happen to me. Thank you so much and this one is to all the female producers out there!”

...

“And the Grammy goes to...” Trevor looks among the superfans behind him. He passes by Riley and says to the older woman that she can read out the winner.

”H-Harry! Harry’s House!” Reina yells out in utter excitement.

Harry puts his face in his hands as he’s overcome with emotions. Never in a million years would he ever think that he would win the award for Album of the Year and yet here he is with his name being called as the winner.

Meanwhile, as soon as her husband’s album is called, she puts her hands up in the air and screams at the top of her lungs. There are no bitter feelings of jealousy in her. He deserves it. She knows more than anyone that this ball of sunshine has been working his bum off to create the music that he loves and this award just proves that he’s doing something truly special. She puts her hands on Harry’s shoulders and tugs him close to her, him still covering his face as he digs his head into the crook of her shoulder. She beams and laughs along with Lizzo, reaching over to meet her high-five.

After the initial shock is over, he’s standing up and immediately pulling his teary-eyed wife into his arms.

“Congratulations, baby,” She lovingly says into his ear as he rocks them back and forth, gripping onto her as he’s afraid she may suddenly disappear. She sees his beautiful dimpled smile before cupping her face and planting a kiss to her lips. Both of them are so overjoyed, so blissfully overwhelmed by this award that they’re just floating on Cloud 9.

After she hugs the other producers—her teammates for this project—Harry quickly grips her hands and nods towards the stage. She shakes her head, wanting this to be his moment, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. The other two producers get behind her so she can’t go anywhere else and Harry has her arm looped through his as he guides them towards the stage.

Once they make it to the stage, her heart nearly bursts when Harry playfully makes his way over to the elderly woman, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame and jumping up and down. It’s such a sweet sight and it occurs to YN how special and rare these moments can be.

Before all of the superfans can make their way off the stage completely, YN quickly jogs over to Riley and he immediately accepts her warm embrace.

This is one of the first times where she can express her love to one of her fans, to show a tiny bit of appreciation for all the love she has for her fanbase—people who have been by her side since the very beginning. It’s not an easy feeling to come to terms with the fact that she will never know all of her fans on a personal level, to individually thank each and every single person for all that they’ve done for her.

Riley’s jaw is on the floor over her shoulder and when she pulls back, she takes his face in her hands, “‘Fank you so much, Riley. Love you, babe.”

After planting a kiss on his cheek, she rejoins her co-producers behind Harry. The two men welcome her embrace in a group hug and once Harry can see that she’s behind him, he begins his speech.

“Shit. Well, shit! Man, I’ve just been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. I listen to every single person in this category. I think on nights like tonight, it’s important for us to remember that there is no best in music.”

As Harry continues his speech, fans can see the way that YN’s eyes are glossy and how she bites down on her bottom lip, one breath away from truly bursting into a fit of tears.

“This is really, really kind. I’m so, so, grateful. I...this doesn't happen to people like me very often and this is so, so kind. I would like to thank my wife, YN, who I made the majority of the album with,” The audience collectively coos as he turns his attention to his love behind him. “You’ve been my biggest supporter, my best friend and the love of my life for as long as I can remember. Thank you for helping me make every album I’ve ever made and for this one in particular. This album is for you and so is this award.”

YN puts a hand over her bright smile as he passes her the Grammy with a kiss on her cheek. The audience cheers and claps in excitement as she comes up to the microphone.

Before she can even get a word out, she looks down at the Grammy in her hands and huffs out a light laugh of disbelief.

“Erm, I think Harry said it best in that we don’t make music with the intention of us getting one of these. I’m so unbelievably honored to have worked with Harry since the start of our careers in the band and beyond that.

My love, I want to thank you for the trust that you’ve given me when we make music. Every second that we’ve worked on this album has been incredibly special to me. It’s...I’m so incredibly over the fookin’ moon right now. I want to pass it onto my wonderful collaborators who helped make Harry’s vision come to life.”

While the other producers give their brief ‘thank you’ speeches, fans are more focused on the couple behind them.

When YN passes the Grammy off to Kid, she’s immediately engulfed by her husband. Her hands grip onto his shoulders as he digs his forehead to the middle of her chest and shakes it in disbelief—an action that looks like he’s motorboating her if taken out of context. She takes his face in her hands and gives him one of her breath-taking smiles. Although their conversation doesn’t get picked up by the microphones, fans can read her lips as she mouths “I love you,” and “So proud of you.”

She closes her eyes with a smile when he digs his face back into the crook of her neck and rocks them from side to side. The faint sound of her giggling is picked up as he mumbles something against the shell of her ear.

If it were any other situation, the couple probably would have tamed their public displays of affection in front of so many watchful eyes. If.

...

After the award ceremony has come to a close, everyone takes their turn doing a photoshoot with their Grammys.

YN certainly has her arms full trying to hold her four Grammys in her arms. It’s not long until she holds her Grammy for being one of the producers for Harry’s Album of the Year Award along with Tyler, Kid, and of course, her husband.

“Do the two of you want to do one together? Let’s do one together!” The photographer decides without the couple’s imput but they certain don’t complain.

Soon enough, Harry sits on the fancy couch they have set up for them. While he holds his two Grammys in his hands, YN holds two of her own before sitting down on his thigh.

“Is this seat taken?” YN teases with a wiggle of her eyebrows. The photographer’s assistance places her other two awards beside them on the couch.

“Never,” He smiles up at her and a flash of light washes over them at the photographer taking a candid picture of them.

When YN posts one of the pictures on her instagram, it’s YN in Harry’s lap with their collective Grammys sat on the couch with them. She’s cradling one of the awards like a baby and they both look at it with playful, exasperated love.

She captions it with: We’re just one big happy family.

I write for free so if any of you lovies would like to help a college girl out and buy her a ko-fi i would greatly appreciate it :) 💚

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atlafan · 10 months

Text

You fucked up again. Just when Harry thinks you've learned from your mistakes, you go and do something ten times as devious. Which is why he's giving you that same glazed over look, the one where he's concocting severe punishments. It's not anger, it's almost exhaustion. It's giving, "how many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man" from Spongebob. But unlike last time when you accidentally pushed him too far, this was purposeful.

Harry has a grueling job. He works a lot of long hours, he has to deal with idiots all day long, and he cannot stand the other partners at his firm. You were his saving grace. You, who was working as a para-legal just to support yourself while you ran your online jewelry store, started assisting Harry. You'd pull the files he needed. You could type more than 100 words a minute. And you had been so innocent. Not naiive, not a prude, but you were blissfully ignorant, and Harry found that to be very cute. So, when you inevitably started hooking up after one too many long nights together, he opened your eyes to a whole new world of kinky sex. He was so serious about it, explaining that he needed someone to be rough and mean with, but also craving to take care of someone and spoil them with affection. And because he had made you come so hard you cried, you were hooked on him, so you went with it.

You've been together a year now, you live together, and you're thinking of maybe getting a dog soon. You don't report directly to Harry anymore, though. You assist another person in another department. It was the only way you two could date without it being a big deal for the firm.

Tonight is a big night. They're announcing the new junior partners, and since Harry is a senior partner, he gets to pin the two people he's been mentoring. He's actually pretty excited about it, or he was until he saw you step out of the bathroom and back into your shared walk-in closet. He's standing there, half dressed, frozen with fury as he watches you pick out which rings and bracelets you're planning to wear. You double take after seeing the look on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked innocently.

"I told you not to wear that dress." He responded lowly.

"You asked me not to wear it, and I never agreed or disagreed. You can't tell me what I can and can't put on my body, Harry."

"You're making me sound controlling, that's not what this is about. You know you look stunning and sexy in that goddamn red dress, and you know it drives me insane because I know for a fact that you're not wearing anything underneath it. That's why I asked you not to wear it. I saw you eyeing it the other day, I should have known."

"I can't wear underwear with this, the fabric is too clingy and I hate having panty lines. It's just a dress. Show some self control."

And that's when the look changed. You swallowed hard and tried not to falter under his gaze. He slowly stalks toward you, still half naked, his abs and other chiseled features fully on display.

"I have plenty of self control." He said as he hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "And you know better than anyone else that I love showing you off and letting everyone around us know that you're mine and mine alone and that they'll never know you or have you the way that I do." He brings his fingers up to squish the sides of your cheeks. "You have plenty of other dresses. I'd like you to go put a different one, and save this one for my eyes only."

"No." You say through your puckered lips.

"No?"

"No."

"That's final answer?"

"It took me forty-five minutes to get ready, I'm not starting over. The hair and the makeup go with the dress. I'm not changing."

He looked you up and down, smirked, then let you go. You watched him carefully as he pulled his shirt and suit jacket on. You weren't sure what he was going to do, but you're standing your ground on this.

"Babe?" He calls to you from the bedroom, so you leave the closet with your ruby clutch in hand and meet him by his dresser.

"Do you need help with your tie, sweetheart?" You ask ignorantly.

"No, I'm not wearing a tie tonight. I'm doing the open button thing, but thank you for offering. Pull up the skirt of your dress for me."

You furrow your brows but does as he says. He gets down on one knee and starts kissing up your leg. He pulls something out of his jacket pocket and your stomach drops. He hears you gasp, and he looks up at you wickedly.

"I'm going to put this inside you."

"Harry, please, this is a work event, I can't have my come dripping down my legs."

"It won't be come because you won't be coming. I'm going to do as I please with this tonight." He turns the little egg-shaped vibrator on and holds his phone up next to it to pair to the Bluetooth. "Perfect. Alright, spread 'em." He looks up at you, his features turning softer. "Do you need your safe word? It's okay if you'd rather wait until we get home to be punished. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"No." You smile softly down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "I'm okay, daddy, go ahead."

He kisses the inside of your knee as he works the toy inside of you. He stands back up and taps one of the settings in the app to give you a test vibration to make sure it's working properly.

You're in for a long night.

What puzzled you most was that Harry hadn't done anything to you yet. He didn't turn the toy on in the car. And you've been at the party for an hour already, and he still hasn't done anything. The anticipation has been killing you. Maybe that was his plan all along. You see your boss and roll your eyes as he stuffs his face with shrimp from the raw bar. You hate him. Part of you wanted to wear your red dress tonight because you wanted to show that sweaty hog that he could look all he wanted, but he'd never be able to touch you.

It's when you're taking a sip of your martini while talking to some of the other paras that you feel the toy kick on. It's starts off with little pulsations, then moves along to steady vibrations. You pinch your thighs together as discretely as you can. You're starting to sweat, and you're starting to let little noises out. You're covering them with coughs and whatnot, but after ten minutes of this, you're starting to get uncomfortably wet. It's all so torturous because as good as it feels, you're not getting any external stimulation, which you need in order to come, so this is all just edging. And you love being edged, so even though it's torture, it's also the absolute best.

Harry knows this. He can see it on your face. You two lock eyes, and you pout at him, pleading. He can't resist you for long, not while you're wearing that dress. Before he can get to you, your boss approaches you, which makes Harry stop short. You had mentioned how he had been such a douchebag lately. He wants to watch the exchange.

"You look incredible." Your boss grinned.

"I know." You snap.

"What are you doing wearing a tight thing like that for? It leaves little to the imagination."

In your head, you don't see how that's true. It's a mermaid style halter with an open back, and the front is separated so you can just see the outline of of the inner parts of your breasts. But because it's a gown, there's an air of class to it. Your hair is up, plenty of pieces out in the front to frame your face. You look stunning. There are plenty of women at this party dressed similarly.

"Don't look at me too much, then." You respond after taking a careful sip of champagne. You're sweating while having that stupid toy inside you. You have to grit your teeth and pinch your nails into your palms to stay composed.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. I think you wore this to get my attention, not that you need help in that department."

"You're being inappropriate. I wore this for myself. I like the way I look in it. It's also one of Harry's favorites, so-"

"I can't believe you're still with that guy. He's like a lump on a log. He's only charismatic with his clients, you know?"

"We live together, so I'd like to think I know him pretty well."

"You deserve to be with someone that can make it so you never have to work another day in your life."

"I like working."

"No one likes working."

"I just said I like working."

"You like making jewelry. Wouldn't you rather do that full time?"

"I-" Your breath hitches when you feel the pulsations start to work in tandem with the vibrations. You're going to kill him.

"Are you feeling alright?" Your boss takes one of your hands, but before he can do anything else, Harry comes up and puts his arm around your waist.

"Bill, she really doesn't like it when you touch her. Look at her, she looks like she's going to be sick, so instead of continuing to make her more uncomfortable, why don't you just walk away. You get away with too many things here, but not for much longer."

"Is that a threat?"

"If you want to take it as one, be my guest." His grip on your hip tightens and you can't help but whimper. "Excuse us." Harry's hand moves to the small of your back to lead you out to the coat check room. He gets you in and locks the door behind you. "Are you alright?" He cups her jaw and looks you over."

"Yeah, th-thank you for getting me - shit - away from h-him." You grit your teeth and pinch your eyes closed, bracing your hands flat against Harry's chest. "Please, I can't...I can't take much more of this, it's been almost two hours."

"I know, and you've done so well for me. I'll turn it off and take it out if you tell me why you wore this even after I asked you not to. I know you can put whatever you want on your body. I just like it when you save certain things for me, for us."

"I hate my boss." You say, still bracing yourself against him. "He makes passes at me all the time. I just wanted to torture him a little, to let him know he'll never know what's underneath all this fabric."

"Sweet girl." He tilts your chin up so you'll look at him. "If Joe was being that big of a prick, why didn't you say something to me?"

"I don't want to run to you to fight all my battles for me. I need to be able to lean on myself."

"If he's sexually harassing you, then you should come to me so I can go with you to HR. You know they don't listen unless someone of higher rank complains. It's fucked up, but that's just how it is. I want the culture to change, but it's slow going."

"I know." You cry, almost feeling ready to drool from how worked up you are. "You're not one of the cogs in the machine, and that's one of the many things I love about you, Harry. I'm sorry I upset you by wearing this because I know you're only upset because you just want to rip it off with your teeth"

"That's right." He backs you up against the closest wall, not caring about any of the coats hanging up being knocked to the floor. He kisses you hard and hot, bending at the knee a bit to get a hand under your dress. He moans into your mouth as he slides his fingers through your folds. "You're soaked, beyond soaked."

"Please, daddy, please." You say breathlessly as he plays with you.

"You sound so good when you're begging. Keep going." He nips at your earlobe before licking and sucking at your neck.

"Please, take it out, daddy. Then you can fuck me in here and I'll do whatever you say."

"You'll need to be quiet. I'll have to stuff the toy into your mouth." He brushes your bottom lip with his thumb and you nod. "Need your safe word?"

"No, god no."

He smirks and pulls the toy out of you, pressing down on the button to turn it off. He whimpers when he feels so much of your slick drip out. He puts the toy inside his own mouth first, moaning at the taste of you, then he puts it into your mouth. He hikes your dress up and immediately gets his middle and ring fingers inside of you. You whine around the toy and clutch at the lapels of his jacket as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, beating into your g-spot. The heel of his palm works to ground down against your clit, making your head roll back. He sponges kisses to your throat as you tug at the hair on the back of his head. Your eyes burst open when you feel yourself start to get close. You're going to explode, and you're all of a sudden worried about ruining the jackets in this closet.

"Don't you dare hold back on me. Fuck the jackets, baby, make a mess." He growls, pounding into your harder.

You're moaning uncontrollably around the toy. You start gushing with his fingers still inside of you, and he doesn't let up. You're coming hard and it feels like it's going to be never ending. This is why you like being edged. You'll take a solid sixty-second orgasm over a ton of little quick ones. Harry slows down his pace, weaning you off of him, before taking his fingers all the way out. He sucks them into his mouth as he fixes your dress. He takes the toy out of your mouth and stuffs it into his jacket pocket while you take his fingers to lick and suck on.

"My good girl." He coos, caressing her cheek. "My good, fucking girl." He catches a glimpse of his watch and sucks his teeth. "Shit, we need to go back to the main room. The pinning is going to start soon."

"Okay, just, let me catch my breath." She says. "Daddy, is my makeup all fucked?"

"Only a little." He wipes under your eyes for you. "Still gorgeous as ever."

"Thank you." You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight. He holds you close, giving you gentle kisses and whispering sweet words into your ear. "Thank you." You whisper. "Can we go home after the pinning?" You ask as he opens the door and you walk out of the coat check room.

"Eager for daddy's cock?" He grins.

"Always."

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #mine #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #blurb #harry styles blurb

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harrytheehottie · 1 year

Text

THE BRITS A HARRY STYLES ONE SHOT

word count: 1.6k very hot & steamy!

This wasn’t your first award show with Harry. You had just come off Grammy week which was your first ‘outing’ as a couple -- well, a couple to the people around you. You made the joint decision to not walk the carpet for both events. You were one of the last few things that Harry could keep to himself as someone who has had most of his privacy shared with the world, with or without his consent since he was a teenager. He still wanted you there alongside him during the most important moments of his career.

You watched and cheered alongside your group which was made up of Harry’s regular entourage, his sister and a few extra label heads that he invited. You watched as he opened the show, performing As It Was with much more energy than he could have at the Grammys where he was immediately hit with the turntable going the wrong way and detouring his entire performance and night.

You couldn’t wipe the grin off of your face when you quickly rushed backstage during the first commercial break to Harry’s green room - where he was changing into his third outfit of the night. His chocolate brown hair was styled perfectly from his hands constantly running through it. He was buttoning up his silk baby blue shirt when you got his attention through the mirror,

“There she is,” he said in a sing-songy voice, clearly already helping himself to some beverages before you got there.

“You were incredible,” you told him before walking over and leaving a kiss on his lips, your pink gloss rubbing onto his lips.

“Mhmmm, thank you - not just saying that?” His voice was low trying not to let anyone else in the room here. Harry was the hardest person on himself and you knew the mishap from the Grammys was replaying in his mind.

“Never.” You reassured him, leaning up to meet his lips again.

“Ahem” Lambert cleared his throat as he tried to get situated into his suit.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll be out of your way!”

You gave Harry one more kiss goodbye before heading back out to your seat.

You decided to sit at the second table where Harry’s collaborators and all the plus ones of his entourage sat. You were in an odd predicament where people knew you were together but they also didn’t - the public was unaware of your relationship with Harry, you’d see speculation on if you were one of the roadies or a new assistant that Jeff hired and you’d see an odd comment here or there asking if you were the girlfriend but nothing that really caught wind. Harry did a great job of protecting you and your locked instagram helped.

You cheered him on from your table as he won award after award after award. He was on fire - downing every shot that came his way, drinking liters of tequila at this point and stumbling through his speech as he took a long pause collecting his thoughts on stage. This was your favorite type of Harry when he lets all his anxieties go and allows himself to enjoy the night ahead.

The fourth and last award for the night - album of the year. You watched with bated breath as the credits rolled through of all the different nominees, Harry turned around to you for a quick moment catching your eyes before blowing a kiss before the fate of the night was announced.

“And the album of the year goes to… Harry Styles.”

You jumped up from your seats in excitement.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Harry swept the Brits.

You were screaming and yelling and hugging everyone next to you and you were so caught up in your own reaction that it took you a second to realize what Harry was doing, maneuvering through the group of people to find you. His arms opened wide inviting you in - suddenly the cameras and the stories and the future headlines didn’t matter. Your boy won and you wanted to join him in all the excitement and exactly how he wanted.

So when he wrapped you in a hug and began whispering in your ear telling you how he can’t wait for later you were a goner. You did something you probably would have never done if the two of you were a little bit sober but you kissed him on the lips quickly, “now stop wasting time and go up there.” He held onto you for a little bit longer before gathering himself and walking up towards the stage with Tom and Tyler.

He was flustered up there, the mix of emotions, tequila and having his favorite person in the world Stanley Tucci present him the award. You watched as he said his thank you’s and gave the mic to Tyler and Kid to say theirs. You were elated for him, buzzing for

You knew your actions would be called into question soon. The headlines that Jeffrey would have to handle. But those were Monday’s problem, right now you were with all your friends celebrating the one man that brought you all together. And when Jeff came over to give you a hug just as Harry began speaking on stage, you knew you had nothing to worry about.

You watched as he clung onto Stanley Tucci through Tom and Tyler’s speeches. He was at the level of drunk where a cup of water or three would do him some good. All three of them fumbled through their speeches before the last performer took the stage. You were overwhelmed with so much emotion and you needed to be as close to him as possible.

Last week, you met him at the after party but this time you decided to wait for him. You found his green room again wanting to give him a quick congratulations before finding the rest of your group and heading over to whatever party he needed to show face for.

“Can I come in?” You knock first thinking his stylist and team would be back there as well not wanting to interrupt anything.

Harry opened the door and you were sure your jaw had unhinged from its place. He was standing there in his tiny briefs, his torso filled with tattoos and semi-erect in between changing into his after party attire. He was the only one in the room

“Told Lambert I got it from here but I think…” Harry paused trying to find his words. He was buzzed and giggling but aware.

“Need a hand?” You finished his thought for him. And just as the words left your mouth you were aware of the innuendos that would follow. Harry closed the door behind you and you watched as he locked it - now the two of you were just alone for the first time all night.

He had a giant grin on his face, you knew he was up to something. You watched as he walked over to the couch and you followed him standing over him as he looked up at you as he whispered slowly, “need you now” moving his hands over his crotch.

He hadn’t even touched you yet and you were already a goner. The biggest night of his career and all he wanted to do was be as close to you as possible as soon as he could - even if it was on a questionable couch in his green room.

Harry reached out and hooked his arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. You thought back to earlier that day when you squeezed in a facetime call to ask what dress you should wear and Harry insisted on you wearing the pink mini. You were centered with him almost embarrassed at the state that he already worked you up in,

“So wet for me,” He whispered.

You leaned forward as you began grinding against him, your mouth at his ears as you whispered back, “I’ve got a thing for winners.”

Harry’s hands found the zipper on the side of your dress and began haphazardly pulling it down, your decision to not wear a bra was certainly working in your favor as he moved his mouth over your nipple using his fingers to play with the other. You shuttered against him as he began to suck, grinding against him as your collective moans filled the room around you.

“Want to feel you inside me,” you said as you got up for a second to take everything off. Harry watched as he too got himself out of his briefs and you were back on him. Your hands stroked him once, twice watching as he threw his hand back highlighting the veins on his neck. You lined your center with his and slowly inching down with that familiar stretch.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

You loved being this close with him, the vulnerability and excitement in being the person he wants to be with in moments like this. It was more than just sex.

You began grinding slowly against his length, Harry whispering encouraging ‘s’good for me’s through his teeth. You moved your hands into his hair -- pulling and grabbing as you worked yourself to finish and when Harry’s hands moved from your breasts and began working your clit, you were done for - moans and groans filling the room with Harry reaching completion soon after.

You sat in silence just taking each other and the moment in.

“You kissed me on camera,” Harry teased as you got up from his lap and sat next to him on the couch. He had his face turned toward you.

“I did” you giggled moving forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“S’ike I’ve won five times tonight - four brits and” Harry found your eyes before continuing, “now, everyone knows you're my girl.”

#harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #the brits #ahhhhh !#let me know your thoughts pls <3 <3

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allthelovehes · 26 days

Text

Field Day Reunion* | Part 2

Summary: Harry finally takes Y/N home when Charlie is with his grandmother for the night.

Pairing: Singledad!Harry x Teacher!Y/N

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Lovemaking, oral f receiving, eager babies, exes to lovers?

A/N: I imagine Harry and Y/N to be British in this universe, so they went to highschool from age 11 - 16(ish) and college from 16 - 20(ish). Idk why but I felt the need to specify haha ENJOY LOVES

Harry and Y/N agreed to take things slow for the sake of Charlie. This means that they have been going on dates every now and then, but not every weekend because Harry doesn't want to just drop off his kid at Anne's, so he can go out with this woman. That doesn't mean however that they don't see each other.

Y/N started teaching Charlie's class a couple of weeks ago. Ever since then, Harry sees her every day because he is the one who drops Charlie off at school and picks him up later in the day. Those little moments are filled with loving glances and private jokes but also Harry teasingly flirting with the love of his life.

Yes, Harry is absolutely smitten by this woman. Given their history, he now believes that he shouldn't have let her go back then. Yes, being high school sweethearts who are going to different colleges isn't the perfect scenario for two love birds. They didn't want to do the long-distance thing when they were only 17, but Harry now knows it would've all been worth it.

He doesn't regret their decisions though. If the two of them never broke up, Harry would've never become a dad to Charlie and he wouldn't want to miss him for the world. The kid is his life, he'd literally give everything to see that little cheeky smile on the four-year-old's face.

Anne was a big fan of Y/N when they were teenagers, she was the sweetest girl so of course she approved of Harry dating her. So when Harry told his mom how Y/N is now Charlie's new teacher she was excited, to say the least. But when he told his mother that they had been on a date, her heart was filled with love. She was rooting for his son, finally meeting that happiness he was so dearly craving.

So, from the moment Harry announces to his mom about him and Y/N taking it slow, Anne has done anything in her power to help Harry out. Taking over babysitting duty whenever she can and just keeping the little boy out of her son's way. Hinting at her son how she's free next Saturday, in case Charlie wants to come play at grandma's house. Just, everything.

And that's exactly why, this afternoon, he decides to take his mom up on that offer. Harry and Y/N have been on four official dates so far and not once has he taken her home. It felt a bit too forward, too soon. But today was different, Harry invited her over to his house, show her around and make his intentions very clear, she's a keeper.

“Char, come on. Put your shoes on, grandma is waiting for you.” Harry tells his son, picking up the overnight bag he packed for his son.

“Where are you going, daddy? I wanna go too!” The little boy cries, pouting at his dad with such innocence.

“I'm sorry, buddy. But you are staying with grandma.” Harry explains to his son, feeling a bit guilty. But he also didn't want to specify anything about his plans for today. See, Charlie is the biggest fan of Y/N at school and it warms Harry's heart to see him so fond of her. But that only gives him more reasons to keep his love life in the shadows for his son.

“But why?” Charlie whines, but knowing it's already a lost battle, he slips on his shoes in silence. Harry shakes his head, suppressing a giggle. Once a kid starts asking why, you know there is no ending to the discussion.

“Let's go, Char.” Harry states instead, dragging his boy out of their house and into the car.

After he drops Charlie off and Anne's, he drives straight back home. His heart pounding with nerves. He'd be lying if he said that he isn't a little bit anxious right now. He hasn't had a girl over for years on end, not in this context. And he's really hoping she's going to want to stay over. He told her to bring an overnight bag, just in case she wanted to stay. He also mentioned how Charlie is sleeping at his mother's place, hoping it would send the right message, but he wasn't quite sure.

When he arrives home, he finds Y/N just parking her car a little further down the street. She's on time, more like half an hour early. Harry lets out a nervous giggle and he hopes that it isn't too obvious that he's anxious right now.

“Eager much?” He jokes as soon as she reaches his front yard. She giggles slightly embarrassed and Harry simply wants to kiss that cute blush off her face.

“I didn't want to run late. Traffic, you know.” She explains, a small smile gracing her face.

“Relax, babe. I'm glad you are early, actually.” Harry smiles sweetly, pulling her in for a quick hug and placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Y/N lets out a flirtatious giggle, getting on her toes to press her lips on his. Harry instantly melts into the kiss, holding her tightly against his chest.

“C'mon, let's go inside.” Harry whispers, pulling away a bit hesitantly. Y/N softly nods in agreement and Harry loosens his grip on her, only to grab her hand and guide her inside. “Welcome to our home.”

“It looks lovely.” Y/N compliments, letting her eyes roam around the living room. You can tell by the way his space is organised that Harry is a neat person, the room is filled with all things the father and son love dearly. A nice TV hangs against the wall, some family pictures are scattered around the wall above the couch and the wall across the room holds shelves filled with movies, video games and records. It's all Harry and it takes the man's breath away knowing that she likes his place.

“Thank you.”

“Let me give you a tour.” Harry says, tugging on her arm and guiding her through his entire house. She had already seen the small hallway when she first entered the house, and a glimpse of the living room, but there is more. There is an open kitchen concept which leads out into the backyard with big sliding doors. It's really neat and pretty, every one of the rooms in the house has little Harry vibes. The house screams family home, it suits Harry really well.

When they finish the tour downstairs, Harry hesitates to show her his upstairs living space. He feels like taking her upstairs is something very intimate, maybe even too forward, yet he would love to show her around. With an unsure glance at her, Harry points his finger to the stairs, silently asking if she wants to continue the tour.

Y/N nods softly and gives him a sweet, yet excited smile. “Let's go, I'm very curious.” She says causing Harry to chuckle and they continue their walk through his house.

“Okay, so this is Charlie's room and his bathroom.” Harry explains. Y/N takes it all in as if he's giving her the time of her life. Harry is beyond grateful because he really does love her and he hopes that she is going to melt into their lives and live here one day.

They move over to the other side of the hallway, Harry gestures at the next room, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously. Y/N opens the door carefully when Harry speaks up. “This is uh- my room.” She pushes the door open further and carefully walks inside.

“This is very you.” She giggles when he walks in after her. Harry doesn't know why, but a blush creeps up his cheeks. Y/N isn't mocking him or making fun of him, her giggle sounds very fond, maybe she is just as nervous as he is.

The bedroom is decorated with warm colours and it features a king-sized bed that looks comfy and cosy. Y/N's gaze is glued to the bed, no doubt in her mind that she'd like to sleep in a bed like that. Especially if that means Harry would be right next to her.

She doesn't ponder her thoughts for too long because she knows that it will end with an almost unbearable aching between her legs.

When they dated in high school, they were only 15 years old. So sleeping with one another was out of the question. They kept dating until they were 16 and 17, but it still didn't feel right for them at that moment to take that step. Now that they are both adults and they want to take things a bit more seriously, Harry would like to finally take the next step in their relationship. Maybe tonight.

“Uhm- so behind you is my ensuite.” He points to the door behind her, gesturing at it with a little nod.

“Oh my.” Y/N's attention is immediately turned to the door when Harry mentions it. She slowly opens the door, stepping into the big room. It's modern and clean, and oh so spacious. There's a walk-in shower and a big tub next to it.

Harry just watches her in awe as she explores the bathroom. She almost seems mesmerised by his place and that makes his heart flutter. It's like she belongs in here and it is her house.

Y/N makes her way back to Harry with a dreamy look in her eyes. She wraps her arms around Harry's neck and pulls him close. She sighs. “Your home looks very lovely, Harry.”

“Not as lovely as you.” He blurts out in a weak attempt at flirting, but it comes off a bit nervous so he might have failed miserably.

“You're cheesy.” Y/N giggles. Harry tightens his grip on her waist and pulls her impossibly closer, flashing her a dimpled smile. Y/N leans in and lets her lips softly brush his in a very gentle kiss. Harry immediately melts into the kiss, tilting his head down to kiss her deeper, but she abruptly pulls away after only a second.

“I- uh- I'll go put my bag in this room, if that's okay?” She asks and Harry crooks his head to the side.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Depends on what you're thinking.” She winks and pulls away from Harry.

“That you are going to stay over.” Harry flashes her a flirtatious smile.

“Exactly.” Y/N nods in agreement, a smug smile on her face and a glimpse of hope flashing in her eyes. “If that's still alright with you?”

“Of course, you don't have to ask.” Harry reassures, making her grin widely. He squeezes her hand for a second and then releases her hand, letting her step away and put her bag in the room.

Harry is beyond excited now, hoping for them to take their relationship to the next level. If they hadn't broken up back in high school, Harry might've even proposed by now. Yeah, he'd love to be married to her one day. But maybe it's too soon to be thinking about marriage, he remembers how it felt to be with her, back when they were only kids, hopelessly in love. He wants that back, now more than ever. ***

Y/N comes back downstairs to see that Harry is already making dinner. He greets her with a wide smile and places a soft peck on her lips.

“Mmh, what's that smell?” She asks curiously, leaning on the counter in the kitchen and watching Harry move around confidently.

“You, I reckon.” He smirks. Y/N lightly shakes her head, failing to hide her smile. “I'm making you pasta, love.”

“Mmmh, my favourite.”

“I know.” Harry smiles proudly.

Harry lets her know how she can pick a wine if she wants, and where she can find some glasses. She of course doesn't miss the obvious fact that Harry has planned everything ahead. That certainly turns her on.

They eat in a comfortable silence, their ankles playfully tangling with one another. Harry does the dishes while Y/N takes a second in the living room to scroll through her phone. As soon as the kitchen is clean, Harry joins her on the couch. He lifts her legs, placing them on his lap and letting her lean into his side.

“Charlie was a little upset to leave.” Harry says all of a sudden. Y/N chuckles, knowing just how clingy that four-year-old is to his dad. She finds that unbelievably adorable.

“Is he going to be mad at us?” She asks, not knowing how to proceed. She doesn't want the cute and innocent little boy to dislike her in any way.

“Us? No. Me? Maybe. I haven't told him about us yet, don't want him to tell the whole class and make it awkward for you at work.” Harry explains causing Y/N to smirk and nod, loving that he cares that much.

“So what does he think we are?” Y/N pries.

“I've told him you are my friend and that I like you a whole lot.” Harry tells her, making her smile.

“A whole lot, huh?” Y/N giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. Harry flashes her a cheeky smile and runs his fingers through her hair. “Sounds like you have a little crush.” She teases.

“Hmm, kinda do. Can't help it though.” Harry admits and leans into her, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. Y/N squirms under his touch, silently letting him know that this is okay. Then, she dips her head slightly and closes her lips on his.

The kiss instantly deepens and Y/N quickly crawls into Harry's lap, getting a better angle to kiss him passionately. His hands rest on her hips and hold her in place as he slowly kisses his way down her neck. Y/N closes her eyes, taking in the touch and taste of Harry. God, he really does turn her on.

So far they hadn't had the opportunity to make out like this. It's all been dates outside of either of their homes and kisses over the console of his car or at her front door. Feeling her thighs on each side of him and her lips working his like it's her favourite pastime makes Harry understand how badly he wants this to work out.

She lets her arms drape around his neck as her mouth finds his again, this time kissing him hungrily. Her lips sloppily brush against his, her teeth leaving grazes against his already tender bottom lip. He's just as eager to make out with her as she is.

She eventually breaks away, though, just to reconnect with those green gems Harry calls his eyes. He gives her a warm smile and his thumbs run under her shirt.

“You are so beautiful, love. Always been.” Harry murmurs against her lips before going in for another kiss. The gesture takes her back to high school, them sharing kisses on her porch after he walked her home from school. Always ending with a tight hug and whispers that went something like this.

But she's not in high school anymore, and so are her urges. Now, she simply can't get enough of Harry, and by the feeling of a firm swelling in his pants, she knows he is affected as much as she. It's quite the ego boost.

Harry had spent many nights, imagining how his first time making love to her would go. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heat deliciously dripping, his name leaving her lips in a quivering cry when they both reach the peak of their pleasure. But he always kept the fantasy bundled up in his mind, he knew that it was too soon for that. Not anymore, though, because Y/N makes it very clear to him that she wants him.

“Harry.” She whimpers and rolls her hips into his. Her core grinds against his crotch and she swears she could make herself come from this. Just humping his bulge will be enough to have her reeling.

“I'm taking that as your consent, love.” Harry murmurs, pecking her lips. But she doesn't reply, she just hums in agreement. Enough for Harry to lift the two of them up, causing her to squeal slightly. He carries her upstairs and drops her on the bed.

It's happening.

Harry climbs on top of her, pressing her down with his weight. His lips crash back on hers and she accepts his passionate kisses with just the same amount of passion. She tumbles her hands around his neck, making sure he stays exactly where he is right now.

After a few minutes of more intense making out, Harry needs to come up for air. His chest is rising and falling and his hair is a hot mess, Y/N giggles teasingly, running her fingers through it to arrange it neatly.

“You're gorgeous.” Harry utters and places a delicate kiss on her jaw, Y/N lets out a shaky breath. Her heart soars when Harry compliments her. Her chin tilts towards him, their mouths closing in for more sucking and licking and biting and tugging. “But I'm dying to know how gorgeous you are underneath all this.”

She can't help the blood that rushes to her cheeks, and she can hardly breathe. Harry reaches down, lifting her shirt over her head. He wastes no time as soon as the fabric passes over her body. He's sucking the skin at her shoulder with eagerness.

“Fuck.” She curses as his teeth nip into her, his lips brushing it so faintly as soon as there's the red and purplish proof he's marked her. For a moment he feels guilty, thinking it's inappropriate, but he can't help but want this. He wants to become one with her and claim her as his own.

Harry gently kneads her breast with his hands, eliciting an erotic moan from her. Y/N isn't shy about her body. Her hand reaches to her back and she unclasps her bra, pulling it off and letting her boobs bounce freely. Harry gulps at the sight, they are just as magnificent as he had imagined them a few years back.

Harry kisses his way down her upper body and without a second thought, takes a nipple into his mouth. The man toys with it with his tongue, making Y/N's centre burn with desire. She hisses at the warmth of his mouth sucking and licking and nibbling. He then moves over to the other nipple, giving it equal attention before Y/N groans and speaks up.

“Fuck, I- I can't take it any longer, Harry.” Y/N whimpers, feeling her core starting to pulsate. She needs him there and she needs it now.

“Tell me what you want then, love.” Harry husks, his cock painfully straining in his trousers.

“Touch me. Eat me out, lick me clean. I don't care, but for fuck's sake-“ She heaves, her hands roaming down to the lining of Harry's trousers.

He doesn't need to be told twice, within a few seconds he is standing next to the bed, tugging off her trousers with her panties. Before quickly stripping down, he catches her eye looking longingly at the obvious erection in his boxers. She has been waiting for this to happen.

Y/N smiles as she observes him, he is so beautiful to her. His every flaw is precious. Y/N sees how his veins are straining underneath the thin layer of his skin as his fists clench around his bed sheets. How those plump pink lips are slightly parted, allowing his rapid, ragged breathing to escape.

Harry palms himself through his briefs, stroking his erection while keeping his eyes focused on the woman beneath him. With her lying on his bed in all her beauty, legs spread, his name on her parted lips. She is truly the epitome of sheer loveliness.

Harry kneels down at the side of the bed before he wraps his arms around her thighs to pull her closer to the edge. “You sure, baby?” He asks once more, although Y/N has been very clear with what she wants.

“Positive.” She mutters and in less than a second, Harry gently presses his lips against her folds. Kissing all around her pussy but never quite touching the most intimate parts. This drives her insane and her hands reach out to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer to her center. “Please.” She whimpers needily.

Harry doesn't make her wait, instead, he runs one finger through her folds before spreading them apart as his tongue prods over the heated skin. A loud grunt escapes his lips when he realises how sweet she tastes. It's everything he could've imagined and more. He then gets to work, flicking his tongue over her clit expertly, making Y/N buck her hips in appreciation. She pants, trying not to explode from pleasure at the feeling.

His free hand slides up to her lower stomach to hold her down and withhold her from squirming too much. Her juices are escaping from inside her, soiling his lips and chin and the duvet. Harry just can't get enough. His thumb scratches at her pelvis and as Y/N looks down, she sees him bobbing up and down eagerly, his eyes closed shut as he devours her. She hisses at the obscene sight.

“Ah- f-fuck!” Y/N stutters out, Harry now digging his fingers into her and slightly curling them inside her, hitting her g-spot and bringing her closer to her orgasm. “Harry!” She warns, her eyes practically rolling back at how he licks her, but that doesn't make him stop, no, he speeds up even.

His lips are locked on her clit, sucking as his fingertips massage her inner walls and let her slick seep out. She can't keep her legs still if she tries, her toes are curling and her thighs are shaking.

“Mmmh.” Harry moans lowly, tasting her juices as they keep flowing, signalling she won't last a second longer. “Come for me, darling.” He releases for a split second only to murmur those words, causing her body to respond with a shattering climax.

“Oh-ffu-Harry!” Y/N cries out as the burning knot inside her undoes and explodes. It's nothing like she's ever felt before, men never really seemed to know how to satisfy her, but Harry is all it takes for her to let go and forget about all the bad sex she ever had. She gasps loudly, riding out her orgasm as he keeps working her gently with his fingers and mouth. “Jesus fuck.”

Her legs fall to her sides. Harry comes up and wipes his mouth clean, chuckling at how Y/N is gasping for air. Her chest heaving as she does her best to try and breathe. “Good?” He hums and kisses her collarbone as he awaits a response.

“Too good.” She chokes out a laugh as soon as she can catch her breath again. She reaches down to caress his cheek, causing him to glance up. “Need a taste.” She huffs, as her hand goes down to his cock. Harry smirks and stops her. Gaining her attention with a quirked brow, indicating she doesn't understand.

“I desperately want to be inside of you, and I won't be able to last as long as I plan to if your puffy lips would work their magic on my cock right now.” He tells her bluntly, keeping his lust-filled gaze on her. And honestly, that might've just been the sexiest thing anyone has ever told her. She gives him a coy nod before he props himself up. He pushes his boxers down his legs and hovers over her.

Harry reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom while Y/N finally has her tiny fingers wrapped around Harry's erect and dripping cock. It's long and hard, the tip glistening and soft. Her hand runs down his shaft, paying close attention to the pattern of those prominent veins. His big hand reaches for her wrist.

“Hate to stop you, love, but you'll be the death of me.” Harry breathes as he slowly rolls the condom down his shaft. Y/N smiles adoringly, holding back laughter. Harry shakes his head amused, glad he brings that same childlike chuckle to Y/N's face that he used to adore when they were younger.

Then Y/N's face changes to surprise as Harry wraps his arms around her upper body to place her further on the bed, her head now resting on his soft pillows. Harry takes his position above her and cups her chin as he gently kisses her.

“Are you ready for me?” He asks. His cock now directly at her entrance, he holds it with his hand, teasing her.

“Yes, H. Please, yes.” She eagerly replies. So Harry presses a firm kiss on her mouth as he carefully pushes himself in. Just the tip before he pulls back again, teasing her incredibly slowly. Y/N groans in annoyance but lets him. Instead, she circles her arms around his neck and lets her fingertips draw nonsensical doodles on his scalp.

Her eyes shut when he finally thrusts himself forward, inserting his cock fully and feeling her pussy clenching around him. At first, he moves slowly, deliberately waiting for the satisfying burn to fade. His palms are pressed flat next to her shoulders as he secures his balance above her. She just can't keep her moans inside, not when he fucks her with all the love in the world.

“Fuck.” Harry grits, noticing how tight she is. Y/N keeps her eyes closed and lets him take control, simply doing what she feels is right, and that is responding to Harry's pace and needs. She finds solace in his sweet scent and she's sure she's addicted to it from now on.

As his hips rock, he slips his tongue into her mouth. Y/N's walls clench around him as his pace picks up. Her slick dripping out of her, coating their inner thighs as he slowly dips in and out.

“Give me your leg.” He says as he taps his fingers on her right thigh. Y/N obediently pulls her leg up and Harry positions himself a bit differently, the tip of his cock hammering against her cervix, reaching spots she didn't know could feel so good.

He places her leg on his shoulder and holds it in place with his arm wrapped around her knee. The newfound angle allows him to fuck her deeper and Harry can't hold himself back anymore. He slams into her, she moans in pleasure when he picks up the pace, making their sweaty bodies become one.

“G-goddamn, love.” He grunts, loving how they move as one. The muscles of his abdomen tense up under his skin with every hard thrust he delivers, he simply can't bear to slow down his movement. Harry continues to rut in and out, bringing both of them higher.

His left-hand reaches down, pressing down on her pubic bone for extra stimulation as his thumb finds her clit. Harry then knows he won't last long. Feeling her pussy already milking his cock, he knows she is close too.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the butterflies in her stomach building up again as Harry hits her G-spot every time he slams back into her.

“H-Harry- shit.” Y/N pants rapidly. She can feel how her juices are dripping from her and covering Harry's dick, definitely creating a wet spot underneath her bum on the duvet. She rolls her eyes back. She can't hold out for much longer.

“Nghh, yeah? Come for me, again, baby.” Harry groans as his pace starts to get sloppy. Y/N loves how his brows furrow and his jaw tightens up every time he pushes in.

“Aah- I'm-“ She starts and her walls clench around him, squeezing his hard cock inside her as she comes. The sensation is too much for Harry to bear. His hot liquid explodes into the rubber as her warm pussy milks him.

“Mmph.” Harry moans and with the last bit of power in his limp body, he slowly rocks back and forth to ride out their orgasms until they both collapse, tired and sweating messes.

“God, I can't believe that just happened.” Y/N puffs as they lie next to each other for a few moments. Harry hums, rolling to her side and pulling out of her in the process. Y/N catches his glance, seeing how his green eyes look like they shine even in the dark, love and affection radiating from them.

“I finally had sex with the girl of my dreams.” He murmurs, scooting a bit closer as Y/N feels him reach to her hand to twine their fingers together. She giggles at his sweetness before opening her mouth to speak.

“I now understand why you didn't want Charlie here today.” She remarks, earning a playful look from Harry. She brings her fingers up to brush the hair off his forehead. “I love you.” Y/N suddenly utters, surprising herself. “I mean it.”

“I love you too.” Harry says without a second thought before placing his wet lips on hers. It's not like they hadn't said I love you to each other when they were younger, but adult I love you's are different, stronger, more meaningful. Y/N grins, nudging her nose against his cheek and pecking his lips.

“We should do something about the stickiness, shouldn't we?” Harry says running his finger on the inside of her thigh. Y/N chuckles as she nods her head in agreement, slightly ashamed but just couldn't care less right now. She's happy, Harry's happy and that's all that matters.

Harry picks her up from the bed again, gaining another squeal as he carries her to the bathroom. They hop in the shower and their touches remain gentle. Just soft kisses and long glances. Once they're all washed up, they slide back between the sheets in an after-sex, shower-fresh bliss.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold

@harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla

@hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles

@bohemianrhapsody86 @cherrylovers-world @harrys-littlefreak @angeldavis777 Let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist! 🤗

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hlficlibrary · 1 month

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HL Fic Library 💕 Established Relationship

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

💕 We Are Only Just Beginning by @afirethatcannotdie {E, 129k}

In the dim light of a dorm kitchen, Harry Styles meets a boy who flips his life upside down. Three years later, he's a senior in college, ready to take on the world with the love of his life by his side. And then Louis Tomlinson admits he doesn't know what he wants to do after college after all, and Harry's world flips again, this time not so pleasantly. He can't imagine his life without Louis, but he's starting to worry he might have to.

A college AU featuring lots of domestic sappiness, waffles, tattoos, late nights and early mornings, and above all, Louis and Harry against the world.

💕 Been Together Since Way Back When by @alivingfire {E, 95k}

Louis Tomlinson is a law student with a simple but effective four step plan: 1. Finish law school. 2. Get hired somewhere awesome. 3. Marry his best friend and boyfriend of two years, Harry. 4. Live happily ever after.

Harry Styles doesn't know what he wants to do with his life, where he wants to go, who he wants to be, or if he even wants the college degree he's almost completed. All he does know is who he’ll be with forever, as long as Louis wants to keep him around.

Or: the painfully realistic college au where everyone's poor, lovesick, tired of school, terrified of the future, and still having the greatest times of their lives.

💕 Such Good Luck by @casuallyhl {E, 66k}

Louis smiles at Harry’s words, leaning into his touch. “Tell me again.”

Smiling, Harry takes Louis into his arms. Pressing gentle kisses to his face, Harry murmurs, “In six months’ time, I will have my twenty-fifth birthday. On that day, my portion of the inheritance will become legally mine. And I plan that very day to announce to my family that I have found love.” Harry chuckles as he runs his lips lightly along Louis’ cheekbone. “That, in fact, I found love when I was twenty-one years old, and that I have loved and been loved every day since.”

Or, an Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

💕 Swallow My Words (series) by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {T, 41k}

Senior year is stressful. On top of balancing school work, family, and friends, Harry's lacrosse team is vying to win the state championship, he's not sure where he's going to college yet, and he has a secret boyfriend that no one can know about.

💕 yeah, he's a looker (but i really think it's guts that matter most) by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain {E, 40k}

Five times Oli was asked to do something that was outside of his job description, and the one time he didn't have to be asked.

💕 Lover Boy by @brightgolden {E, 27k}

“I’d love to meet your lover boy one day,” Lottie says suddenly as she pours Louis a whiskey on the rocks after their dinner.

OR Where Louis wants to tell everyone about his relationship with Harry, but his boyfriend clearly thinks otherwise.

💕 Spellbound by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {T, 22k}

Louis’ a shifter. Harry’s a witch. The only problem is, they’re hiding those things from each other.

Will they be able to keep their secrets hidden at the most spooky time of year?

💕 You Were Mine by @brightlyharry {E, 20k}

Harry and Louis hardly speak to each other unless they're fighting. Harry has ran out of ways to try to repair their broken marriage and Louis can't be bothered to even try. When the loneliness becomes too much, he joins a new social media app. It doesn't take him long to make a new friend on there that helps pull him out of his solitary hell. The more they talk, the more Harry finds comfort in his anonymous friend. He is smiling and laughing again for the first time in months.

He soon discovers that Louis is smiling again too, and it's not because of him.

💕 Dance Me (to the End of Love) by @phdmama {E, 19k}

You would think that it's a simple process - you meet, you fall in love, you get married. But when you add one lawyer and one overly-competitive high school teacher to that equation, it's no longer a straight line from beginning to end. Or the story of how a simple proposal becomes a competition where no one loses in the end.

💕 On Thin Ice by @neondiamond {E, 16k}

As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.

💕 Another One For The Road by @reminiscingintherain {T, 15k,}

She looked up at Louis with a smile. "Congratulations Louis. You're pregnant." "Oh fuck," he said softly, before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he promptly passed out.

Or the one where Louis' on tour when he finds out the hard way that men can get pregnant too....

💕 Wild As You by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {M, 9k}

As much as Harry had not been overjoyed at the prospect of leaving Minnesota behind and starting high school in rural central Nebraska, it had definitely changed his life in ways staying at his childhood home never would have. Within days he had found fellow students to sit with at lunch, within weeks he had considered them friends, within months he had learned to love Nebraska, and within four years, he had wildly fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson.

or, a story about how Harry figures out whether the ideal of a house with a white picket fence in the suburbs of a medium-sized city is what he wants, or whether Louis' sheep ranch is the home his heart really desires.

💕 caught up in your love affair by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 8k}

“And the corgis took to you straightaway,” Harry remarks.

“That’s true,” Louis chuckles.

“I’ve spent the last 29 years being barked at,” Harry deadpans, jerking his hand toward Louis, “this one walks in, absolutely nothing.”

Louis outright giggles at that, saying, “They were just lying on my feet during tea.”

“Wagging tails,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“It’s because they don’t understand flirting,” Louis tells him, “you can’t charm them the way you do everyone else.”

Royal AU. Prince Harry announces his engagement to Louis Tomlinson in an interview with longtime friend and BBC host Nick Grimshaw. Inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

💕 So Much Left to Say by myownspark / @myownsparknow {M, 7k}

Harry remembers Louis stalking along the Cougar’s sideline as the final seconds of the game ticked away. He was apart from everyone, with his arms crossed and his head down, sort of fragile looking even in his pads and helmet. Harry’s fingers actually itched to hold his hand, just as they do now. He holds the phone up to take a selfie and smiles into the camera, trying to ask Louis a question with his eyes. (Are you really okay? Tell me the truth. I bet you’re sitting on your bed, playing Madden, sulking. If you want to see me, I’ll come. I know you better than anyone. You’re sad. I’d like to come.) He pushes send.

(Harry and Louis play for rival high school football teams, and when they play against each other in the Homecoming game, someone has to lose.)

💕 As one we are everything/We are everything we need by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992 {M, 5k}

Harry finally marries the love of his life. He's got the mating mark, he's got Louis' ring on his finger.

And now, he's on his honeymoon. Louis is but a door away, waiting for him.

Honestly, he doesn't understand why he's nervous.

💕 Tuca Tuca (ILikeYouILikeYouILikeYou) by @persephoneflouwers {E, 4k}

The San Francisco getaway AU, where Harry is needy and Louis has a flight to LA in a few hours.

💕 sensitive to pressure by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry {E, 4k}

Harry’s breath stutters on its way up his throat, his cheeks heating more with each step as Louis gets closer and Harry can’t move. Feet stuck to the carpet, heavy and unwilling, unable to shuffle away or take control, stuck in place and waiting.

💕 Gonna Dress You Up In My Love by @fallinglikethis {T, 3k}

Harry decides to take up knitting. He's horrible at it. Louis wears everything anyway.

💕 lying close to you by @nouies {NR, 2k}

Harry’s been living for twenty-five years but he’s only felt alive for the past two.

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justmystyles · 10 months

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With this Ring

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: Harry takes his commitment to you to a new level.

a/n: watching everyone go nuts over that tattoo reminded me of a Harry head canon that i've been sitting on, and i felt like this would be a great time to put it out there. this story takes place in the NYIML timeline, but that story is so far from a wedding, so they'll get their proper wedding eventually. just act surprised when this happens again at some point, eventually.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You study Harry’s expression as he examines the selection of rings in front of him. He doesn’t seem particularly taken by any of them, and you’re pretty sure you know why.

In just a few weeks, you and Harry are finally getting married. A quiet celebration with your closest family and friends at your villa in Italy. Today, you were selecting your wedding bands. Yours was an easy choice, you selected a simple, understated white gold band that complimented your engagement ring perfectly. Harry however, was having a more difficult time making a decision.

Harry already had an extensive collection of rings. A large gold ‘H’ usually occupies his left ring finger, but he was looking at simple gold bands to replace it, for you. You knew he would never complain, or say anything to you about it, but you were sure that a part of him wasn't thrilled about the change.

“Harry?” You get his attention when the jeweler steps out back to grab some more options. Your fiance looks up at you and hums in response. “You don’t have to get a wedding ring, you know.”

Harry furrows his brow. “What do you mean? We’re getting married, of course I do.” He reaches out, placing his hand over yours.

“You already have a ring for that finger. Besides, you don’t need to wear a piece of jewelry to prove that you're mine. It’s an antiquated tradition.” You shrug.

“Ha!” Harry’s hands quickly covered his mouth at the bark of laughter that escaped him. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Baby, I’ve never seen someone plan a more traditional wedding, and now you’re telling me that one of the main components is antiquated?”

“I just want you to be happy, and I feel like one of these boring basic bands wouldn’t do that.”

“Princess,” he takes your face in his hands, looking deep into your eyes. “You make me happy, and I can’t wait to be your husband and show the whole world I belong to you. If I could tattoo ‘property of Y/N’ across my forehead without looking completely insane, I would do it in a heartbeat.” He pulled your face to his, as the two of you kissed, it was as if a lightbulb went off in his head. He knew the perfect solution.

***

“I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride.” The officiant announced as Harry pulled you into him, dropping his lips down to meet yours in a passionate kiss as your friends and family cheered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, for the first time ever, Mister and Misses Harry Styles!” The two of you turned, facing the crowd, Harry raising your joined hands in the air victoriously as you made your way down the aisle with the italian sunset setting the most romantic backdrop you could have possibly dreamed of.

The two of you stepped back into your villa, Harry tugging your arm and pressing you against the wall. “My wife,” he sighed happily before crashing his lips against yours. He pulled back, resting his hand on the side of your neck, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “My beautiful wife. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, husband.” You giggle, pulling his left hand to your mouth and kissing the simple gold band that now adorned his left ring finger. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You asked. He gave you a mischievous smirk, and you furrowed your brow. “What?”

“I may have had an idea after our talk at the jewelry store.” He chuckled at your curious expression. “Come with me, Mrs. Styles.”

He took you by the hand and led you to the bridal suite area. When you stepped inside, there was a table, wrapped in plastic with a chair on either side, and a large man setting up supplies.

“Harry?” You asked curiously.

He smiled at you, kissing the wrinkle that formed between your eyebrows. “I thought about what you said, about how I already had rings, and you didn’t want me to have to give them up. I figured out a way that I could have both. I’m going to have your name tattooed around my ring finger.” He announced proudly. “That way, I have my wedding ring on all the time, even if I’m wearing my H.”

Your eyes start to water as you take in his words. He studies your face, worry creeping into his expression. “Are you… is that okay?”

You throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Baby, that’s amazing. Are you sure? A tattoo is a forever thing.”

Harry chuckles, pulling you back so he can look you in the eyes. “So are we, princess. Remember like five minutes ago when we got married?” He wiped a stray tear off your cheek.

“Yeah of course,” you say with a light laugh.

“C’mon,” he tugs on your hand and brings you over to the table. “I want my wife with me while I do this.”

He takes a seat at the table, pulling you onto his lap as he lays his left hand onto the table. The tattoo artist confirms that Harry is ready before dipping the tattoo pen in the ink and begins to write your name in small letters across Harry’s finger as your wedding photographer takes pictures, her assistant shooting a video of the moment. Your eyes travel from Harry’s face to the work being done on his finger. His eyes meet yours and he puckers his lips, you lean in to kiss him softly.

“Are you… does it hurt? It seems like that would be a painful spot.”

“Nothing hurts with you by my side.” He smiled, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “So corny. But I guess I can let it slide today. I mean, you are getting my name permanently etched on your body.”

“My wife is so merciful,” he said, his thumb absentmindedly running across your hip.

After a few more minutes, the tattoo was finished and Harry held his left hand up to admire the work. You grasped his wrist and moved it in front of your face. “Hmm… that’s not how you spell my name.”

“What?!” Harry pulled his hand out of your grip and held it up close to his eyes. “Wait, yes it is.”

“I know, I was just messing with you.” You laughed. “It’s perfect Harry, I love it.”

“And I love you, my wife.”

“I love you too, husband.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcannon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot

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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year

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Love Playlist #2: UGH! (Bang Chan)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

"Shut the fuck up."

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Word Count: 11k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that you hate Christopher Bang’s guts. Everything about him, you hate. The utter laziness that he masks as nonchalance? The “happy-go-lucky” attitude that borders on bullheaded recklessness? The way every single time you text him about something important, he never replies? You hate it all. He’s irresponsible, aimless, completely unreliable, and you hate him.

Chris believes that the whole world revolves around him, and unfortunately, he would be correct. With dimples that rival Harry Styles’s and saccharinity biologically embedded in him, his good looks and charismatic personality blind everyone to the truth. Everyone except for you, of course.

Even if all of the supreme powers in the universe held you over an eternal chasm and forced you to find compromise, you still wouldn’t be able to stop hating him. And you hate heights— almost as much as him— so that’s saying something. Your hatred for him will never, ever waver. You hate Chris Bang, period. And you hate him even more now, as he stands next to you and accepts an honor that should solely be yours.

“Congratulations, Chris and Y/N!”

You keep clapping and plaster on a fake smile to save face, trying to ignore the rage bubbling inside of you. In your peripheral vision, you sense Christopher laughing and shooting finger guns towards people in the audience, like some kind of corrupt politician. In a way, he is one, because you should have won this election. But you didn’t.

“In all of our history, never has there been an exact voting tie between two candidates.” The sickeningly cheerful announcer bounds closer to where you are standing on the stage, gesturing towards you both. “Everyone, please give another round of applause for our new Student Co-Presidents!”

Hearing it officially made you feel nauseated. For the three years you’ve been a college student, you have worked tirelessly, day and night, so this moment could come to fruition. All of those days filled with nonsense— schmoozing to all of the seniors in the Undergraduate Student Council, attending the endless number of tedious mixers to make connections, standing in the rain trying to raise funds for the organization— were going to be worth it, because in the end, you had one goal: to be student body president.

But your dreams were dashed to the ground when he strolled in like a supermodel. While you were toiling since you were a freshman, Chris showed up at the final student council meeting at the end of last year, expressing his intentions to run for president in the following academic semester after the summer. Chris’s charm threw off the projectile of the election, compared to how although you carry yourself very well professionally, you still are very socially uncapable. Making engaging small talk about the weather or joking about frat parties on campus are unthinkable tasks for you, while that kind of conversation is exactly Chris’s forte.

You know that you’re lucky that you at least get part of the title, because while on paper you are more qualified than Chris, the game was never in your favor. And seeing it all happen by the cursed will of the one person you’ve despised more than anyone else, since you were a kid, makes it hurt more than anything.

“Great job, partner.”

You’re snapped out of your disturbed musings by the aforementioned person, who beams and stretches out his hand towards you. You’re wary of the gesture, but accept it anyway, making sure to squeeze his hand extra hard.

“Same to you, Christopher,” you retort, adding an unmistakable bite to your words.

The smile doesn’t fade off of his face as he coolly shakes his aching hand off from your death grip. “I go by Chris, you know that.”

You nearly snort, but refrain from it, because people are watching. You do not need any negative publicity right now, especially next to your co-counsel who seems to do no wrong. But that won’t stop you from being discreetly petty. “Okay, Christopher.”

You hate Chris, and he knows it. But his elated expression doesn’t budge as he merely moves away from you to spark conversation with the announcer, who looks at Chris with literal hearts in her eyes. One more thing you hate: no matter how much you try to rile him up like he does to you, he never gives you a reaction. That satisfaction solely belongs to him.

Rolling your eyes, you shove past him as gracefully as you can, eliciting a surprised grunt out of him. As Chris rubs his side behind you, you turn to the students coming closer to congratulate you, the smile on your face very much genuine now.

“He left me on read! AGAIN. Can you believe the audacity?”

The smoky, herbaceous scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary fragrance of baking breakfast pastries does nothing to soothe your anger. Your unadulterated complaints ricochet off of the walls of Morningstar Coffee House, your go-to place when you need to feign study in order to hang out with your best friend, a devoted employee-in-training at the place.

Soobin groans, dumping out the latest batch of long macchiato into the sink. “I keep messing it up.”

“Are you even listening, Soobin?” You lean against the counter that he’s behind, wiping up the small drops of milk that escaped the carton in his hasty panic to master the art of being a barista.

“Yes, yes, I am, sorry. Please continue.” Soobin sets aside his blender and folds his hands on the granite, looking at you earnestly.

You pick at the chipped dark purple polish on your nails. “I can work with him. I can. Because I’m a professional. But he makes it so hard when I’m trying to communicate with him.”

Soobin shrugs. “Maybe he’s just not using his phone right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shake your head. If only everyone could be as sweet and guileless as Soobin. He always sees the best in people, and while you’re not a pessimist, it’s hard for you to find the good in Chris’s character.

“It’s not just the text thing, even though I really do need him to tell me if he’s finished the nominations for the ethics board. It’s like, he doesn’t give a crap about anything, especially when it comes from me.”

Soobin nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I know he’s difficult. But just keep rising above. Getting upset hurts you, not him.”

As always, Soobin remains the voice of reason behind your storms, your eternal complement. When you need to cry your emotions out, he welcomes you with open arms. When he’s too shy to ask for the dessert menu at restaurants, you will signal for the waiter. When you make your displeasure apparent, he induces a degree of rationality into your vexed mind. That said, fundamentally, both of you are introverts. At the end of the day, you love nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch knitting tutorials on Youtube with Soobin. Opposites or not, you fit each other like a glove.

“I love you, cucumber,” you say, affectionately poking fun at your best friend’s towering height.

Soobin’s cheeks turn light pink, and he swats your hands away. “You’re weird.”

You tip your head back and laugh, while Soobin grins and resumes his duties in trying to figure out how to work the cash register. You can feel the worries already lifting in your chest, because who cares about Chris, anyway? Certainly not you.

But as if you had spoken of the devil, you hear the jingle of the shopkeeper’s doorbell, followed by that familiar boisterous guffaw. The sound makes you whirl around, the tension soaring back into your shoulders. And there he is, sauntering into the café with his trusty entourage trailing.

Your narrowed eyes meet Chris’s, and he pauses in the middle of whatever obnoxious joke he must have been sharing. For a brief moment, a telepathic duel sparks between you both, a challenge to see which one of you will be the first to crack. You win, when he breaks eye contact to go and find a seat with his friends in the lounge area. But once more, it doesn’t feel that way, because while he’s resumed his own activities, you’re still thinking about him. So much for rising above. Damn it.

“Soobin, you need to scan your employee ID first or else sales won’t be attributed to you. We already went over this.”

The voice of Seungmin, the son of Morningstar’s owners and your fellow university student, halts your deliberations and thankfully pulls your thoughts away from Chris. Seungmin is inside from his break and stands there besides Soobin, scolding him for making another mistake in his practice transaction before the evening rush.

“Right! Sorry about that.” Soobin shakes his head and exhales, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep at it.” Seungmin softens, patting Soobin on the back before making his way over to where Chris is sitting. Because of course, Chris is friends with every single person in existence.

Another person enters the building, prompting the telltale ring to go off. Soobin’s perpetual flush morphs into a crimson, and you immediately turn to see which newcomer has got your best friend so hot and bothered. You’re met by the sight of a very pretty girl who you recognize, but whose name escapes you. However, you know the boy she has walked into the coffee house with— her best friend, Han Jisung, who is unsurprisingly another member of Chris’s glorified posse.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You raise your eyebrow at Soobin, who is still watching the girl with a lovelorn look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t like her. She and Jisung have a thing.”

“They’re just friends,” Soobin says, frowning, but you can see the contradicting doubt written across his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Seungmin and see what’s up.”

You take his hand and resign, because other times, both of you have to learn your lessons on your own. “You’ll make someone’s heart beat as fast as they do your own. Whether it’s her or not.”

Soobin swallows, fully directing his attention back to you. “The same to you as well. ”

You let out a playful snort, thinking of your one short-lived romance from freshman year. You haven’t dated since, deciding to set relationships aside so you can focus better on your studies. You cannot take the chance of losing precious time, time that can only be allotted to your favorite person, work, and nothing else. Besides, you’ve never been very good at flirting— let alone finding friends— anyway.

“But I think Chris raises your pulse rate enough, so maybe you’ve got your plate full for now.”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the annoyance picking up again. Soobin sends you a cheeky smile, before he attends to his peckish customers.

You take the opportunity to make your way back to your table in the front of the cafe, your favorite little spot that overlooks the lush campus lawn, and then past the historic buildings of your university, the faint city skyline. The trees have begun happily shedding their leaves like multicolored tears that dot the outdoor expanse, embracing Autumn like a long-lost lover. Today is gorgeous, a day that should feel like a blessing, and yet, you feel blue.

The reason for your melancholy approaches your carefully curated bubble and pops it, sitting down at the table, uninvited.

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the election after-party the other day.”

Chris’s voice is calm, so you merely clench your jaw and keep from saying anything too unintelligible. “Hey, you read my text and didn’t reply today.”

He doesn’t let the sheepishness cross his features, but has the decency for it to manifest in a light red at the tips of his ears. “I was going to, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

You just can’t help the venom that laces your next words. “You always are.”

Chris shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you always have a problem with me.”

You allow yourself a sharp intake of breath before divulging your current frustrations with him. “I really, really need you to answer me when I ask you something. We represent all of the students in our college. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Chris rolls his eyes at your words, which makes you even more irritated. “I know.”

“Great. Then we have nothing else to discuss.” You slip your laptop back into your carrier and zip up your backpack, grabbing your phone and pushing your chair in. You don’t spare Chris a glance as you walk towards the door.

“Why can’t we just be friends like before?”

You tense at Chris calling out, but don’t look back to face him. “You should know the answer to that.”

“I really don’t.”

With a scoff, you leave him hanging, pushing open the door and finding somewhere you can actually study without distraction.

It’s only the second day of fourth grade and you already feel so out of place. You moved here over a month and a half ago, in the middle of summer, so you had a lot of time to get used to the town and explore your new home. You enjoyed biking around the neighborhood cul-de-sac all day and discovered a clearing in the woods behind your house, immediately claiming it as your personal hideout. After your parents hosted some of your neighbors’ families for dinner, you even established friendly relations with Soobin, the impossibly shy son of the couple next door.

But your expeditions in school haven’t been as successful. As soon as you stepped into the classroom, it seemed like everyone already had their own friend groups, less than willing to take on a newbie like you. Because all of the seemingly “cool” kids have claimed all of the seats in the back, you sit up front, the desk next to you empty. And although Soobin also attends the same school, he’s in a different homeroom than you, so your in-school interactions are limited to hallway waves and nothing else. To top it all off, your teacher is already talking about long division. What in the world is that?

“Would you like a pudding?”

You turn around to pinpoint the hushed voice that has interrupted the independent classwork time that your teacher allotted. The owner sits right behind you, this kid with dimples and mischievous eyes. You can’t recall his name from when your teacher took attendance in the morning, but you remember him singing a little rhyme to his friends during lunch yesterday. It was cheesy.

The boy holds out a small cup of what looks like Jell-O snack pudding towards you. You accept it, slightly confused at the random gesture. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He folds his hands on his desk, math practice discarded to the side. “You looked hungry.”

He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to eat the pudding. With a sigh, you open and try it, because you are kind of hungry. As soon as your lips gingerly close around the tiny spoon, you grin, because it’s chocolate— your favorite.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Chris,” he replies, obviously delighted by your reaction to the pudding. “Are you new?”

You smile, relieved to finally see a friendly face in your class. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for the pudding.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my trusty pudding cups.”

You don’t say anything, just quietly observing him while savoring the pudding. Chris is a little weird, and maybe too friendly. You're usually careful about this kind of socialization, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Chris takes your silence as an opportunity to keep chattering away.

“I notice you sit alone at lunch. You should eat with my friends and me today!” Chris exclaims, earning him a look from your teacher, but he doesn’t notice.

You pretend to contemplate his offer, although you’re secretly elated at the invitation. “Maybe if there’s more pudding.”

“Deal.”

“It looks like the faculty advising problem is sorted. Anything else?”

The Dean of the college closes his laptop and pushes the pair of glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time in the past hour. The lenses are huge, magnifying his eyes and making them look bugged-out, adding a comical element to his otherwise stony face.

“I was thinking—” You start, taking out your notepad, but the Dean cuts you off, looking at Chris.

“Chris, did you have anything you wanted to say?”

Your cheeks as you avert your gaze shamefully, and all of the other students in the conference room awkwardly stare down at the table. The Dean doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, however, just intently staring at Chris. For the entire board meeting, you actively participated and made your voice heard, while taking into account others’ concerns and viewpoints.

Meanwhile, Chris had done nothing but squint at the papers in front of him and pretend he knew what was happening. But you’ve always been underestimated just because you’re a woman, and the fact that you’re the only female student body president in the entire history of your university doesn’t help. Of course the Dean would value Chris’s thoughts more. Anyone would.

“Actually, Y/N was saying something. We should let her finish,” Chris replies firmly, shocking you. You thought Chris would just take the opportunity to shine for himself, not hand it to you.

The Dean looks taken aback as well, but he nods slowly. “Very well then.”

Everyone’s attention snaps to you, but you quickly recover and recollect yourself, turning on the professionalism you reserved for moments like this. “Yes. Thank you.”

You open your computer and quickly login, plugging it into the projector so everyone can view your screen. You had already pulled up your presentation and graphics, ready to present your idea.

“What is all of this, Miss Y/L/N?”

You take a deep breath. “A prevailing issue that has come to the board’s attention is the food insecurity on campus. To solve this issue, I propose the University Food Pantry, to relieve hunger through the acquisition and distribution of food to those students who most need it. We need to lead our campus community in the fight against hunger.”

The rest of your audience looks intrigued, but the Dean doesn’t seem convinced. “And how does this concern me? I oversee educational affairs at the college, not what’s cooking for dinner.”

“Our university is, above everything else, a community. The difficulty of higher education is further compounded when hunger is a constant presence.” You try your best to keep your suave composure, ignoring the smug condescension in the Dean’s voice. “As a result, the Food Pantry will envision a campus in which every student, regardless of their socioeconomic status, has sufficient access to nutritious food. No one should have to make financial and dietary decisions in pursuit of a good education.”

“It all sounds expensive. Where would you even get the money from?”

You know that the Dean expects you to be thrown off by his question, but you’re ready. You switch through the slides of your presentation, showcasing the several charts and graphs you stayed up all night drawing. “The Dean’s Assistance Fund, through which the Pantry can provide flex allowances to undergrad recipients of Financial Aid.”

The Dean leans back in his chair, brooding silently while you wait for his answer with bated breath. But Chris speaks up instead.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Chris says, astonishing you even further. “The fund could finance other initiatives in collaboration with the pantry as well, like the university Meal Share app that my friend Jisung coded. He’s in the computer science department.”

“Thanks,” you say warily, still in disbelief that you have both his support and enthusiasm. The other students murmur in agreement, but it doesn’t feel real, getting along with Chris.

Immediately, the Dean sits up, directing his gaze to match Chris’s. “A wonderful idea, Chris. We must talk further about this. Perhaps—”

It’s Chris’s turn to cut the Dean off. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Y/N’s, if you were listening to her at all, sir.”

The Dean looks embarrassed after being put into his place by the very student he was chatting up to, but you don’t give him time to say anything else, taking the chance to continue speaking.

“Of course, we can’t be fully financed by the Dean’s fund, so I think the university board should put forth a collective effort to apply for the Park Grant, an international system that funds programs that address student reform.”

“You’ve put so much thought into this, Y/N,” Mina, one of the board members, says with a smile.

You light up, forgetting the Dean’s less-than-enthused demeanor. “Thank you so much!”

The Dean sighs, staring up at the ceiling, but shrugs, inclining his head in reluctant approval. “The Park Grant deadline is in two days. You’ll have to write up the proposal and present it to the panel.”

You nod vigorously, already mentally adding it to your calendar. “Thank you sir, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”

The Dean points his pretentiously expensive fountain pen at Chris, directing your gaze to his. “But you’ll be presenting with Chris. You’ll oversee this endeavor together.”

Your soaring heart crashes, and you sit up in indignation, because of course there’s a catch. After undermining all of your efforts, the Dean would never trust you to do something like this on your own. And out of everyone, it has to be with Chris.

“Sir, I truly believe I can finish this on my own.” You can barely contain the anger quaking in your throat, but you give it one last attempt.

Chris glances at you and dips his head in accord. “I agree, sir. Y/N is perfectly capable. This is her project, after all.”

“Let’s not go near what our capabilities are. I am very well aware of what your abilities are.” The Dean’s words jab you in the chest one by one, making you wonder if he could go any lower. “You both are co-presidents. Do it together or don’t do it all.”

“Sir—”

“Please give me a chance—”

Both you and Chris are cut off by the Dean’s cold sneer. “That will be all.”

With the wave of his gnarled hands, the meeting is over, and the rest of the students exit as fast as they can to escape the tension, while you just sit there, staring at your black computer screen blankly. A moment later, you collect yourself, grab your belongings, cramming them into your arms, and run out of the room, trying not to cry all of your frustrations out, right then and there.

“Y/N, stop!” Chris calls out from behind you, and you groan inwardly. And of course he has to be there. You can’t even fall apart in peace.

“What do you want, Chris?” You sigh exasperatedly, turning to face him, even though all you really want to do is give him the finger and run back to your room.

The tension is palpable, and you see Chris’s concern. You don’t want it, though. You don’t want his concern, his sympathy, or his friendship. You just want to never see him again, but unfortunately, the universe will not let that happen. You should have accepted that when it put you through elementary, middle, and high school, and even college with him.

“I’m sorry. I- I tried,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft, blond locks flop back into place on his forehead. He looks more beautiful than ever, the sorrow in his deep brown eyes and painted into the pout on his perfect lips. But God, you hate him.

You swallow, taking a step forward. Chris’s eyes widen in surprise, but he stays still as you proceed in an eerily calm voice. “Outside of work, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think about me. I hate you, Chris, and I wish you never existed.”

For the first time, Chris is speechless, but you walk away, feeling anything but triumphant. You don’t want to see the hurt splayed across his face. And you don’t want Chris to see your own pain, the ugly root that digs deep into your heart and surges through your fingertips, the pain that has been there since the moment he took something from you. You hate Chris, and that will never, ever change.

“Come on, Soobin, tell me,” you whine, lightly kicking your legs at Soobin’s, where they hang over the edge of the treehouse you both built with your dads a few summers ago. The June weather is hot and sticky, and on days like this, you both like to climb up here and try to catch the faintest breeze that may come your way, ice creams in your hands and stories to trade on your lips.

Soobin coughs awkwardly. “Absolutely not, Y/N.”

Tomorrow is the last day of middle school, and you’re determined to guess Soobin’s crush. You smirk at him, elbowing him in the side. Today, you suck on a blueberry popsicle, deliberating while trying not to let the dessert drip down your arms.

“It’s the girl in your history class, isn’t it?”

“Nope.” Soobin side eyes you curiously, biting down on his own fudge ice cream cone. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me yours.”

You blush, your mind immediately going to Chris, the boy you’ve liked since forever. Although you’re best friends with Soobin, Chris is also one of your good friends at school. And not to mention, the cutest boy in your entire school.

Besides Soobin, Chris is also the only other person you’ve told about your autism. You were always shy and awkward growing up, and Chris pulled you out of that shell.

It’s also why you get so nervous before tests. Since the time you nearly dropped your computer before a science quiz in fifth grade, Chris always brings you pudding before class assessments. You were scared to tell him at first, because you have been bullied in the past about it, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding. He’s never forgotten to bring you a pudding cup, and he specifically brings chocolate-flavored ones only, because you once told him you liked them.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you swallow the last chunk of your popsicle, crunching down on the sugary ice.

“I promise.” Soobin sits forward eagerly, his melting ice cream cone forgotten.

“It’s Chris,” you say dreamily, a lovesick smile playing upon your lips.

Soobin burst out laughing, elbowing you in the side teasingly. “I knew it!”

You and Soobin start arguing about who was more obvious about their respective crushes, but the thought of Chris stays lingering in your mind and clouding your thoughts. His devilishly handsome looks but angelic personality. The way he brings you those damn chocolate puddings, unaware of how you got sick of the flavor a long time ago but keep eating them anyway, just to see the beaming smile on his face.

“Tomorrow,” you exclaim randomly, right after Soobin finishes telling you about all of the teachers he will miss over the summer, the perfect student he is.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to tell Chris that I like him. Tomorrow,” you declare, trying to keep your voice strong and purposeful.

Soobin just stares at you with his jaw hanging open, because while you aren’t as soft-spoken as him, neither of you are particularly forward. Especially not in regard to your romantic lives. You both are the duo that watches your lost loves from afar, not confronting them up close. You’re surprised at your uncharacteristic behavior too, because you pledged to never give a teenage boy the satisfaction of knowing the power they have over you, especially not someone popular like Chris. But then again, Chris is different. You know it.

“Are you actually serious right now?” Soobin asks, still in shock. “Like, are you joking?”

“I’m serious, Soobin. I really like him.” You toy with your stained popsicle stick. “If he doesn’t feel the same, then I can just move on.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

He reaches over and gently pats you on the back, as if to comfort your nerves. “He’d be really dumb to not like you.”

You groan and flop onto your back, looking up at the dusty ceiling of the treehouse. Both of you just stay quiet for a moment, as you observe the soft cobwebs in the corners and the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the wooden rafters. You’re really going to do this.

“I’m still hungry.”

Soobin holds out his half-finished cone, little droplets of ice cream dripping onto the wood. “You can have the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Soob.” You accept his ice cream and both of you continue to reminisce about the school year and plan out everything you probably will never do during the summer, because both of you are master procrastinators.

But one thing you can’t put off is your revelation to Chris, and it’s going to happen. Which is why you find yourself trying to ignore the impending feeling of dread as you walk through the school hallways. Classes are over for both the day and the entire academic year itself, and there’s no better time to confess to your crush on the last day of school. That way, if something goes wrong, you can take the summer to recuperate and wallow in your humiliation.

You weave through the students excited to trade their homework assignments for sunny days at the beach, with only one thought in your mind. Chris, Chris, Chris. You saw him in math class in the morning, and he looked so cute in his new Hawaiian-print shorts while he signed your yearbook for you. Now, you try to find him in the crowd, before he leaves and you’ll be unable to see him for another three months.

As you search, you’re momentarily snapped out of your Chris-induced daze when you bump into Jessi Ho in the congested hall. Knowing your luck, of course you would crash into the loser who constantly picks on Soobin for being shy.

“Watch it, dumbass.” Jessi crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. Jay, her wannabe sidekick, gets up in your face, threateningly flashing the tattoos he got without his parents knowing. Although they look like a classic pair of bullies straight out of Mean Girls, you’re more irritated than intimidated right now.

“I don’t have time for this.” You try to move past the terrible twosome, but Jay grasps your forearm roughly and pulls you back. You wrench your arm free and look at him in both disgust and confusion. “What the hell?”

“I’ll get to the point.” Jessi smirks, bringing her finger up to her head and pointing to her temple. “We know you’re impaired. Up here.”

Your blood freezes over like a river of ice, when Jessie emphasizes that specific word. Even though you’re not impaired, because autism isn’t an intellectual disability, you know what she means. She says it like an insult, like you’re the most useless of garbage, not worth a human being’s basic dignity. Jay bursts out laughing when he sees the horror on your face, slapping his distressed denim thigh like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in the fifteen miserable years of his life. You just stumble back, shock and panic rising like a tidal wave in your chest.

“W-what?”

Jessi cackles, clinging onto Jay like he’s her own walking cane. “How cute. She looks so lost.”

You shake your head, the tears building and your throat seizing in alarm. “How…?”

“A little birdie told me.” Jessi steps closer to you, and while every other time you are able to stand up to her, you can barely look her in the eye right now. “It all makes so much sense. Why do you barely talk to anyone but your pathetic bestie? You’re too scared. Why can you never sit still in class? You're just stupid.”

“That- that’s not how it works.”

You’re grasping at straws, at a loss for words. Any other time, you’d have a snappy comeback ready. You know you struggle with social interactions, but you never thought of yourself as someone disruptive, or weird. You’re one of the highest achievers in your entire school, because sometimes, books make more sense than people. But now? You do feel stupid, exactly like Jessi said. And not because you’re autistic, but because you weren’t careful enough. You’ve been underestimated your entire life because you’re a girl, but now, you know you’ll also be an autistic girl to everyone else. Not who you are. And that’s why you tried your best to keep it on the down low, not because you felt embarrassed, but because this was a part of yourself that was entitled to you. Not anyone else.

“Sure, okay.” Jessi looks bored already, her eyes unfocused roaming the hallway, looking for her next target. “Whatever, stupid.”

Jessi slinks off without a second glance, and Jay follows suit, but not before doing a disgustingly inaccurate impression of autists, speaking gibberish slowly and exaggeratedly. You actually speak faster than other people, because you always say whatever is on your mind. But you don’t give a crap about them right now. Bullies like them will always have the worst to talk about others, and you would rather die than have them be the cause of your tears, ever. What’s really bothering you is who told them about your autism, and how that mystery person found out.

Swallowing roughly, you run over to the bathrooms, forgetting anything else. The only thing on your mind is not losing it in front of everyone. You will not give any of these people the satisfaction. Trying to keep your breathing even, you’re about to enter the bathrooms and relieve your emotions when you hear someone say your name. It doesn’t sound deliberate however, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

You turn slowly, searching through the swaths of people walking, when your gaze lands on a small group of people gathered at the end of the hallway, a few lockers away from where you’re standing. And his back facing you, but you immediately recognize the person speaking. After the previous year of sitting behind him in Geometry class, you would recognize his curly locks perpetually dyed a soft blond and preppy polo shirt anywhere. Your ears perk up in interest, and while you feel horrible, you know one of Chris’s dimpled smiles would immediately brighten your stormy day, as they always did.

“Tell us the truth Chris!” You hear someone screech like an eager toddler, and you stop in your tracks like a deer in a traffic jam. It can’t be.

“Fine, Y/N is autistic...”

Everyone around Chris bursts into uproarious laughter, and while you can’t see his expression, Chris begins saying something else that’s drowned out by all of the noise. It was Chris. He told everyone about your autism. Chris, the sweetheart who brings you pudding. Chris, the pretty boy who you have a hopeless crush on. Chris, your friend.

You stumble back and are pushed back into the after-school hallway rush, losing sight of Chris. But you already saw everything you needed to. It would have hurt less if it was anyone but Chris. But it wasn’t. You liked him. You trusted him. And he took that trust and stomped on it, shattering it forever. He took something from you.

Your heart hardens as you blink away your tears. You mindlessly make your way outside, just in time to catch your bus home. Looking out of the window, with your time and your spirit petrified, you resolve to never, ever make the same mistake again. You will never again put your faith in someone who does not deserve it.

“You look hungry.”

You momentarily glance away from your laptop screen to shoot Chris a withering look that could scare a bear. Things are back to normal since your emotional confrontation after the Dean’s meeting. Your rude remarks and his annoyingly cooperative advances are both back for good.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The blistering ice in your voice doesn’t stop Chris from unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of his damn puddings. With a scoff, you turn back to your spreadsheet, taking care to shoot disgusting looks at Chris periodically. Chris just takes his time savoring his pudding, innocently watching your reactions like you’re a goddamn television set.

The hours pass by quickly; you get a good amount of work done, while Chris tries to be helpful by asking useless questions and doing nothing else. Typical. After finishing up a final follow-up email to the Dean’s much more tolerable secretary, you stretch out your arms with a yawn. The library will be closing in a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Chris’s voice is interrogative as you stand up, like you owe him an answer, which makes you see red. If anything, he is the one who should be giving you an explanation, perhaps why he has to be such a two-faced monstrosity who wants to pretend everything is fine and in the past.

Screw civility.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your royal dopiness. I didn’t know I needed your permission to go home.” Your words are filled with a sickening sarcasm, and fortunately, it’s enough to shut Chris up.

You grab your belongings and stalk out of the personal meeting room that you reserved, barely noticing that everyone else sitting at the previously crowded study spaces has already left. Once in the security of the library bathrooms, you exhale all of the tension you’ve held inside of you and splash cool water onto your heated face.

You stare into the mirror, seeing the same girl you’ve been trying to leave behind all of this time. You feel like that lost little girl trying to clutch the thought of someone who should be forgotten. You hate that you still have hope in you, that you’ve had it all of these years, that things can be fixed. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve tried to leave the past behind you, to look forward and do exactly what needs to be done for your success. Here’s the truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because he sucks and you hate him. Here’s another truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because… you’re hurt.

Especially because of your autism, you’ve had a more difficult run at making meaningful relationships. Your friendship with Chris meant that there was hope for you, and you truly believed that. But then he betrayed you, making you doubt yourself and your abilities. And following the incident, it felt like the world was working against you, and it still does. Maybe you could have healed with time, but the universe had other plans, taking care to put you through high school and college with Chris. And with your rotten luck, he’ll probably end up going to the same law school as you.

But you don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Your future depends on the present, and you’ll do your best to remember that. Your productivity mantra will keep you going, and nothing can stop you, from Christopher Bang to misogynistic old deans to… a locked bathroom door?

“What the hell?” You tug on the handle, but the door won’t budge.

Fuck.

You were so occupied with Chris that you forgot that after hours, all of the doors automatically lock to preserve campus security. Screw modern technology. You’re about to pull out your phone to try and call someone, but when your fingers meet an empty pocket, you realize you left it in your apartment. With an exasperated groan, you bang against the door as hard as you can and shout for help, even though you know it’s impossible for anyone to hear you and open the door from outside, the only way to free you. After a few minutes, you give up and slide down onto the floor, knowing you’ll have to spend the rest of this godforsaken night in this stuffy bathroom. Even if you somehow eventually gain the strength to bust this stupid door down, there was no getting past the padlocked main library doors. But seriously, which genius had the idea to lock the freaking bathroom doors?

You close your eyes and place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down. You’re perfectly safe. Alone in a big, empty library. Soon, the bathroom lights will shut down, probably. You wouldn’t know for sure, though. You’ve never been locked in the damn library bathroom before. Perhaps you’ll make friends with the old campus ghosts rumored to haunt this building. And maybe—

The click and turn of the door handle startles you, and you immediately jump out of the way, so your designated savior can let you out. And you’re not even surprised when your eyes meet Chris’s own confused ones. Because of course it’s Chris.

“Why are you still here?” You ask him in a slightly accusing tone, even though he literally has just helped you. You don’t even know why you feel the need to be so pointed, but you are nevertheless.

“I was waiting for you to come back and didn’t realize the library was closed.” Chris lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. You hope it does. “I have a question about the proposal.”

“Did you try calling someone? I forgot my phone.”

“Well, my phone doesn’t have any service.”

“Awesome.”

You don’t say anything further as you both exit the cramped corridor outside of the bathroom. In your hurry, you hadn’t even noticed how the librarians had turned off the lights, shrouding the building in darkness. Shivering, you subconsciously move closer to Chris, before you realize yourself and make sure to maintain a six-feet distance between your body and his.

“You can come closer if you’re scared,” Chris teases, noticing your discomfort. “We’re both stuck in this library together.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s scared of the dark.”

Both of you fall silent as the remembrance sinks in. The day you confided in Chris about your autism, he had shared a secret about himself in return, albeit a less serious one. He had an irrational fear of the dark since he was a small child, and you knew any other fourth grader would have made fun of him for it. You had felt happy, then, that he could confide in you.

The inadvertent memory feels unwelcome, uncomfortable. Chris clears his throat and looks away. “Not anymore.”

You and Chris decide to make camp in the library common room, since although the main building lights wouldn’t work, there were a few soft table lamps you could turn on for some clarity. You set your backpack down on the carpeted ground and snuggle into the large armchair by one of the bigger lamps. You glance at the decorative grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and it’s just past midnight. At that moment, you really just want to go home, put on your favorite pajamas, and fall asleep while watching your list of comfort anime films. Definitely not being locked in the damn library with Chris Bang, of all people. Since when was your life an episode of Arthur?

“So, you wanted to ask me something?”

Chris fiddles with his hands for a minute, before looking away. “Never mind.”

You don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at this point. You’re just exhausted. You fall back against the tough cushion of the chair. It feels like you’re sitting on a clothed bag of sawdust. But it’s better than being out there, in the dark. And you hate to admit it, but you’re glad that you have someone to share the company of an empty library with, even if it’s Chris.

“God, I’m hungry.” You touch your stomach, feeling the gnawing emptiness there.

“Would you like a—”

“No, I would not like a pudding, Chris.”

The minutes eventually tick by, and you feel yourself nodding off. You had told yourself earlier that you would stay alert, but the drowsiness drapes over you like a blanket, lulling you into reluctant sleep.

The menacing roll of thunder snaps you out of your uneasy slumber like the sound of a car crash. Immediately, you double over and tuck your head into your arms, trying to breathe. Your hands, warmed from being pressed under your thighs, go clammy with a cold sweat, and you can feel the tears well, barely keeping them at bay. When your go-to breathing technique doesn’t work, you gasp for air, jerking in your seat at every new crack of thunder invading your perception.

Immediately, Chris crosses the space between your chairs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hold. Sometimes, thunderstorms cause you to have a sensory overload, and you can’t cope. Chris knows this about you, after you got severely spooked after one particularly bad storm in the middle of class in sixth grade. Chris continues to rock your body slowly with his, whispering calming nothings into your ear. Your breathing slows and returns to a normal pace, but Chris just keeps rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.

Soon, the sound of the thunder dissipates, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s actually because the storm ended or if it’s because the overwhelming scent of Chris’s fresh, minty cologne has taken over your senses.

You look up at Chris, the boy you hate more than anything, and whisper the very last thing that you ever thought you would say to him. “Thank you.”

Chris just nods his head slowly while you untangle yourself from his hold. He gets the hint and lets you scoot away from him, but it’s not far enough. Mere inches separate you from Chris, Chris who helped you without second thought because you were having a panic attack. Forget every ounce of hostility you have shown him, he hugged you like he was your lifeline, which he nearly could have been.

He looks at you intently, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He’s asked this question multiple times before. The first time was back on the very first day of high school, when you both had English class together, and you staunchly ignored him. He continued to ask you the same thing over and over again, until your lack of acknowledgement made him finally stop and accept your new attitude towards him. But even though you’ve heard this question before, this time feels different. There is a certain vulnerability to his words, like he’s given up and is pleading for one last chance.

A part of you still wants to try and maintain the animosity you use as a protective barrier, so people can’t tell what you’re really feeling. But you’re just tired of it all, and the question tugs at you too. Maybe you need to reply out loud for both of you to hear, not just him. Maybe you need to affirm your hatred for the dumb boy who waited for you to come back from the bathroom and then held you during a thunderstorm. Or maybe you need to affirm the fact that you may not hate him as much as you think, but you still do. You don’t know. You hate him the most because you don’t know. So, for the first time, you answer him.

“You broke my trust, Chris.”

“When?” Chris looks genuinely perplexed, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

With a scoff, you glare up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye. “You told everyone about my autism. When I specifically said that I wanted to keep it a secret.”

He shakes his head in a vigorous panic. “I didn’t tell anyone. I promise I didn’t. I promise it wasn’t me.”

Then who was it?

As if he hears your thoughts, Chris sighs and indulges them. “Jessi. She saw your aide and followed him to his office. She was telling everyone about it, I swear.”

And it makes sense. His explanation checks out, and this all could have been a grand misunderstanding on your part, because of course Jessi would have snooped into your business. You couldn’t save your privacy for long with someone like Jessi hovering. And the thing is, you’re not even surprised. You knew in your heart the entire time that you could have been mistaken, that it was strange that Chris would have violated you like that, but it was just easier to blame him for your pain instead of confronting it. Or so you thought.

“And when everyone found out, I tried defending you. I never, ever would want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

Chris’s eyes are shining with earnesty, and you know he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t erase all of the years you were hurting. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that it was the reason you stopped talking to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

You close your eyes and lean back. “Chris, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is on me.”

You feel your hatred towards Chris fade, and all there is left in you is a deflated pocket of sorrow. Your whole goal was to stay focused, but in reality, you’ve put so much time and energy into despising Chris. And that wasn’t the only way you hurt yourself. You also deprived yourself of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

“I do,” Chris insists, interrupting your thoughts. “I was stupid. I gave up so quickly. It hurt me too, not just you.”

You raise your head and tiredly gaze at him. Even in the dark, he looks beautiful. And it’s not merely his looks, but truly his character that shines through. You spent hours picking apart his personality, trying to find flaws and reasons to demonize him, not knowing that in the process, you were the monster yourself. You constantly complained about his lack of initiative and response, when in reality, you never let him actually do anything. You can’t even fathom why he’s being so understanding, or all of his attempts to work with you, even after your cold treatment of him.

“What do you mean, Chris?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Chris groans. “I used to like you. There.”

You perk up. Well, now you’re shocked. “Wait, really? I used to like you, too!”

There’s disbelief written all over Chris’s face. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Both of you burst into laughter, like you weren’t having a heart-to-heart five minutes ago about hating the other. It feels good to laugh, and for a second, you’re transported back into fourth grade, when you first met Chris.

When you were a kid, you barely laughed, which worried the crap out of your parents. The doctors said it was common among individuals with autism, but it didn’t seem that way when you walked around, unsmiling and unfeeling. You weren’t completely socially inept, or exactly shy, but you preferred to keep to yourself. And then Chris had offered you a pudding. You felt like friendship was worth something, then. You felt seen. And maybe that scared you a little bit, being on the edge with someone who made you feel so deliciously raw. Maybe that’s why you didn’t fight back for Chris, because you would rather leave than be left.

Chris rakes his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. “You know, I still like you.”

“Very funny.”

“I do.”

“You’re crazy. Stop that.”

“Maybe.” Chris throws his hands up and then lets them fall back down. “I like you and don’t want to stop.”

“After how I treated you for the past eight years?” You nearly laugh with how ridiculous he’s being. Hell, if you were in his place, you’d hate yourself.

“But you were hurt. A lot.” Chris shrugs. “You’ve become this amazing woman. You’re… incredible. Hardworking, talented, smart. Keeping in mind how you truly believed I was the cause for your pain, you excelled in spite of the fact that the universe kept pulling us together.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. I’ll say it for you.” Chris looks down at his palms. “I like you, and that’s why I became co-president and faked having no service on my phone so we would be stuck in a library together.”

“Chris—”

“Please. Don’t say no. Not after eight years of me pining for you, knowing you’d never look at me again. Knowing I was falling deeper every time you cursed at me. Please, Y/N. I want to know you again, and you to know me. Please.” Chris’s expression is begging, and it pains you even more.

You still hurt, but it’s a different kind of torture. It’s the kind of hurt that’s the result of yearning, the kind of yearning that stems from hatred, subjugated love, and uncertain acceptance. It’s the kind of hurt that tells you that you don’t deserve him. He deserves someone who isn’t a complete and utter coward. Someone who hasn’t been completely and utterly in love with him all this time, but too stubborn and too pained to admit it. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly awed by the magnificent man he is, but too bitter to say it.

Chris reaches out his hand and places it on the side of your face, imploring you with his hesitant palm. You melt into his touch, when a mere few hours ago, you would have slapped it off of you. His skin is warm against yours, and the softness radiating from him pulls at you. You want to say yes. You want to open a blank page in the book. You want to start fresh with this beautiful boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” And you’re not just apologizing for pushing him away before, but now too. You don’t get to have him.

“Just… why?”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The repeated dialogue from you has a note of finality that even Chris’s insolence can’t break through.

And just like that, all of the bridges you both repaired come crumbling down, but this time, it’s on purpose. You’ve always been quick to make decisions, never mulling over a choice for too long. You loved Chris. You hated Chris. You still love Chris. But you reject Chris. It’s easy to do, like one computer command after the other. But then Chris retracts his touch and wordlessly gets up from the armchair, curling up into his original position in the other chair. He’s facing away from you, you feel like you’ve struck an error message. The hours pass, and the softly snoring form of Chris reminds you of a blaring bad request, a pile of code that just won’t compile. Eventually, your computer shuts down too, and you share a temporary commonality with Chris when you fall asleep.

“Wake up dear.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up. Natural light pours in through the big windows, and you can feel your skin drinking in the sunshine. The librarian’s kind eyes are watching you with worry, but all you can think of is the night before. Perhaps it was all a dream. You were angry at Chris and then fell asleep after coming back from the bathroom. End of story. But then you feel that familiar ache in your heart, and you know you weren’t hallucinating everything that transpired between you both.

You turn to look at the librarian, who still seems immensely concerned, especially with your disoriented morning look. “I’m sorry, where is Chris?”

“He just left a few minutes ago, sweetheart. I was opening up for the day, when I saw him waiting to be let out at the front entrance. Nearly scared the life out of me.” The librarian places her hand on your shoulder. “He told me you were here.”

The librarian rushes off to her personal office to make you some tea, and you’re left alone in the common room. And no one else is here either, because today is Saturday and your university is supposed to be hosting a football game against a rival school. You look down at your body and notice a jacket wrapped around your body, one that definitely isn’t yours. You don’t have an expensive leather jacket that smells like Tom Ford cologne. It was freezing last night because the library doesn’t have heating, and Chris must have woken up in the middle of the night and draped it on you. You feel another pang in your heart as you think of Chris leaving without speaking to you. You deserve it, though.

As you sadly walk out of the library, you decide to skip the game even though as student body president, you should be there, representing the school. You reach your off-campus apartment, the one that you were so excited to finally lease a few months ago, and sprawl onto your couch, already feeling weary of the day. Nevertheless, you fish your phone out of the jumble of couch pillows and call Soobin, because he must be worried sick. You always text him goodnight before you sleep, and yesterday must have been the first time you didn’t.

“How could you?” He’s angry, a new color on him.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. The library—” You start, but Soobin doesn’t let you finish.

“Forget the library! I’m talking about Chris. He’s stepping down from the president role because of you, Y/N!” Soobin screeches into the phone, making you shoot up in alarm.

“What?!”

“I overheard him tell everything to Jisung. Y/N, this is wrong.” Soobin sounds calmer, but nonetheless distressed. “I know you love him. You shouldn’t let this happen.”

Your face heats up in surprise. “How—”

You hear Soobin tsk, and you just know he’s shaking his head, disappointed. “I didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that. There’s a fine line between love and hate. You can never stop talking about him!”

There’s no denying it now. You shouldn’t have underestimated Soobin; no matter how silly he can be, he is your best friend in the whole world after all. And maybe all the time, the only one you were lying to was yourself.

You grab a pillow and cradle it, just wanting to cry it all out. You always have more intense feelings than others, but right now, your heart hurts so much that you doubt you can blame being emotional on your autism.

“Soobin, what do I do? I don’t want to hurt him, but…” You sniffle. “I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. For eight years, I made my whole personality hate Chris. And now, he forgives me and I accept it? I’m so stupid, God.”

“I agree you’re stupid.”

“You’re not making me feel better!”

“Sorry.” Soobin sighs. “But you need to get over yourself and your drama. Stop making this harder for both of you, and just be grateful that you haven’t lost him. Yet.”

And with that, he cuts the call in a way very unlike Soobin, making you groan out loud in frustration. Now you want to punch your pillow, because your best friend is absolutely right.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Chris in the packed stadium. Through the throngs of students eager to trade their homework for a good home game, you see him standing with one of his friends in an upper corner of the stands. When you were younger, you were obsessed with Greek mythology and thought that Chris looked like Apollo, the god of the sun, with his golden curls and sunny disposition. Today, his light seems to have dimmed, as he watches the ongoing game with his hands shoved into his pockets and a forlorn look marking his gaze.

“Chris!” You shout to try and get his attention, but it’s to no avail. The cheering crowd is ear-splitting, and you have no other choice but to climb up to the top.

Grunting, you hoist yourself up the steep stairs and try not to look behind you. If you do, you’ll fall off the stands with dizziness, which would be slightly undesirable compared to what you have to do next. Slightly. With the final step, you haul into Chris’s row, catching your breath and a first glimpse at how high up you really are. The players on the field look like tiny ants, and you feel your stomach drop. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

But it’s too late to turn back now, because Chris has already spotted you and hurries over. You tense and lose your footing, stumbling over someone as they kick their legs in anticipation. Great.

“What are you doing here?” Chan places a toned arm around your shoulders and pulls you up, leading you to his seat. You clumsily collapse into the solid, curved plastic of the chair, and Chris follows next to you.

You then notice Chris’s friend, a heartbreakingly handsome man who you vaguely remember as Minho from your sophomore year literature class. He’s wistfully gazing at a very pretty girl who is chatting with Terry, Soobin’s old roommate, a few rows down. Minho then becomes aware of your presence and hurriedly excuses himself, rushing out of the aisle and disappearing into the crowd. You turn to Chris.

“Is he okay?”

Chris exhales, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft locks flop back into place on his forehead. “I… Minho’s just going through some stuff right now.”

“Seems like he’s not the only one.” You toy with your ring, twisting it around your finger. “I heard you’re resigning.”

“Who told you that?”

“Soobin. He was eavesdropping on you and Jisung today in Morningstar,” you respond. “Why are you leaving the role?”

Chris looks away from you and out at the field. Your university’s football team still hasn’t scored. “I’d just be in your way. This is for the best, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Please don’t. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine.”

This is what you thought you wanted all along, a world without Chris in it. Besides Student Council, neither of you share any classes or activities this year. If he left, you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him again. You could run the council well on your own, you know that. But you don't want to. You don’t ever want to imagine a world without Chris. He’s been by your side for so long now, and now when he’s about to step away do you truly realize how much you need him.

“Maybe. But I won’t be happy.” Against your better judgment, you reach over and grasp his hand, making Chris start in surprise.

Chris shakes his head, still skeptical. “All I’ve ever done is make you unhappy, Y/N. You don’t want me to be around.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come around, not without the right kind of persuasion. “I was dreading having to do this.”

“Do what?”

You reach into the small purse hanging off of your shoulder and pull what you had scoured the entire city for in the past few hours. “Would you like a pudding?”

Chris looks bemused, staring down at the small cup of chocolatey goodness in the delicate palm of your hand.

“Or do you want a kiss?” You stare at Chris intently, trying to ignore the whammering beat of your heart. “What will it take for you to stay in your position?”

“W-what?”

“Or I could be your girlfriend. Because I really want to see where this goes.” You take a deep breath. “A bunny once told me that I just need to get out of the past. I’ve left it behind, and I’m looking forward, Chris.”

“Fine.” Chris swallows roughly and bites back the slow smile spreading on his features. “Can I have all three?”

“You never make it easy, do you, Chris?”

Before he can quip back at you, you grasp the collar of his t-shirt and tug him to you, your lips meeting just as the home team finally scores a touchdown and the crowd erupts in applause. You couldn’t care less though, because although the preteen you is jumping up and down like the rest of the cheering fans, the adult you is smiling into the lips of the man you definitely do not hate. Actually, you love him.

Chris slings his arms around your waist and pulls your body closer to his, sweetly laughing into your ear when you both come up for air. “Am I a good kisser, or what?”

“Shut up.”

And you’re kissing him again. Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting as you lean into each other after years of loving, hating, and longing. Your arms roving over each other coax all and any remaining hesitation left in you both, and it feels so right. You treasure the soft sighs of pleasure and elation spilling from Chris’s lips, his sounds more deafening than any overzealous football fan’s rally cry.

“So, do I not get the pudding, or…?” Dimples cut across Chris’s cheeks as he pulls away from your lips once more just to shoot you a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes playfully and reach into your lap, tearing open the foil wrapper on top of the pudding cup before handing it to him. “You and your pudding.”

“You know you love it.”

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pleasingforharry · 2 years

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can you please please please write more about college harry? maybe how they met and how they started to date and everything? its my favorite🥺🥺🥺🥺

Of courseee, I love these two :)

college!harry x quiet!yn

How They Met

Y/N was close to the coach of the college’s soccer team due to her dad being best friends with him for years. She had known Coach James since she was in middle school as he was over for every event and ‘guy night’ hosted at her childhood home. She got to the point where she just called him Uncle James, and he was ecstatic by the name because he had no siblings to have kids that would call him that.

Even though Y/N was quiet and hated being the center of attention, she still made the effort to visit Coach James on the field while his team practiced. She’d try to talk to him while the team was doing drills at the soccer goal so she could have only his attention on her. He was very aware of Y/N’s personality, and being the uncle he always wanted to be, he had a very protective side over her. If she was uncomfortable around his boys, he’d send them off for more drills.

The team was currently doing sprints from the goal line to the half and back. Y/N cautiously walked up the steep hill to the soccer field and immediately spotted Coach James watching the boys from a far enough distance. The assistant coach was at the half-line, making sure the player’s cleats touched the bold line before they turned around to run the other way.

Y/N had a new camera in her hand that she was eager to show Coach James because he was one of the few who knew of her secret hobby. And she was also just informed by her dad that Coach James was also behind the reasonings she had the camera. She bit her lip in excitement and picked up her speed to reach him.

His arms were tightly crossed with dark shades over his eyes as he chewed harshly on an innocent piece of gum. His attention was mostly on his two star players, Harry and Louis, as they led the group, yelling encouraging words to the ones falling behind. The actual captains were too out of breath to speak, so the underclassmen did it for them. Coach James was proud of those two boys and really hoped to keep their futures bright.

While he nodded at their quick feet, he suddenly felt a presence approach him. He knew exactly who it was because she was the only person who wouldn’t announce herself from afar in fear that others would notice she was there too. So, when she was close enough, she finally spoke up.

“Uncle James, they just had a tough game yesterday. They’re tired,” she immediately defended the slower players with beat red faces. She reached Coach James side and bumped his side with her hip.

“It was a tough game because they weren’t doing good, so they need to get better,” He simply counterargued with a slight laugh. “How’s your day going, kiddo?”

It was then when Coach James finally looked down at Y/N to notice the new camera situated in her hands with the strap around her neck. His lips immediately curled into a smirk as he saw the hidden excitement in her eyes. She wasn’t one to completely express her emotions, but he knew her well enough to know what she was feeling.

“Amazing, actually. Dad told me that you chipped in on the camera so I came to thank you tremendously,” She smiled, wrapped an arm around him in a side hug. Coach James chuckled and brought her close.

“Of course, kiddo. I didn’t know your other one broke so you stopped taking pictures for some time, but when your dad told me he wanted to buy you a new one, I was all in,” He explained as they parted. “If you love photography so much, just tell me if you need anything for it. New camera, new SD card, new bag, new models—” He motioned to his players currently falling to their knees as they finished their last round of sprints.

They both laughed together as he pointed to one of the players trying to walk in a straight line but ended up wobbling and falling to the turf ground.

“I mean, maybe game pictures, not practice pictures. The headlines would definitely caption this as abuse,” Y/N shook her head.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, and I’m glad you brought your camera with you,” Coach James started but cleared his throat before continuing. “Our current photographer is not a fan favorite with the boys because every picture he takes just comes out horrible. So, I’m kind of in the need for a new team photographer that would come to our games, some practices, and take pictures,” He explained, cautiously watching Y/N’s face as it contorted different expressions.

“Oh,” She sighed, nervously. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Uncle James. I can’t even talk normally with any of them.”

“You really don’t have to say anything to them, kiddo. Just take pictures from the sidelines, that’s all,” Coach James shrugged, sliding his shades up his head and smiling reassuringly at her. “I can talk to them about keeping their distance from you.”

“No,” She immediately shut that idea down. “I’m not a baby, I can be around them. I’m just not as hyper and talkative as them so I don’t think I’ll be able to be their uppity photographer best friend.”

Coach James stared down at his niece figure and placed his arm around her shoulder. The boys were surrounding their assistant coach with all their backs to Y/N, just as she liked.

“Stay for the rest of practice, take some pictures when they scrimmage and try it out. If you hate it, then that’s perfectly fine and I won’t ask you to take any more. How’s that?” Coach James compromised, walking Y/N slowly to the group.

“I can do that,” she nodded, lifting the camera to her eyes and focusing on the boys huddle. She snapped a quick picture of them before showing the screen to Coach James. He hovered his hand over it to block the sun but then smiled at the perfect framed picture of the team.

He raised his hand up and Y/N gladly accepted his high-five. “That’s front cover material,” He praised at his niece figure.

So, like he asked, Y/N stayed around to shoot more pictures, and the boys finally realized she was there as she stood near the goal to capture Harry tucking the ball in the top corner. His eyes met Y/N when she dropped the camera from her face, noticing his lingering stare. His lips instantly grew into a wide smile as he recognized the familiar girl he’d see in the front of his French class.

The rest of the boys jogged to their starting positions to reset the field, but Harry slowly walked backwards, keeping his attention on the awkward girl.

“Did ya like tha’ beautiful goal?” He asked her as he wiggled his brows. Y/N only shrugged, moving down the sideline to find other players to take pictures of. Harry frowned from her quiet response, but tried to shrug it off and focus on the next play.

Something was going on in Harry’s head as he weirdly wanted the attention of someone besides Coach James. He loved the praise he’d get for his outstanding footwork and powerful shoots, but that day, his eyes wouldn’t stop searching for the girl behind the camera.

Every time he’d outrun his opponent down the sideline and play a perfect cross for the Forward to score with, his head would whip in her direction, hoping her eyes were on him. And when they were, he’d subtly wave and tip his chin up. Y/N’s lips would stay in a straight line as she nodded back before looking down at the screen of her camera.

For the rest of practice, Harry was getting desperate. His teammates realized he was being a little extra with his footwork and hogging the ball to make good action shot poses. Y/N was oblivious to his tactics as she never watched soccer and didn’t know that holding the ball to yourself for that long, even though your teammates are open, is a little petty. She just did her job by taking more and more pictures, mostly of Harry because he always had the ball, and moving down the sidelines.

Coach James smirked to himself as he watched one of his star players show off to his niece. It was cute that a boy would do that for her because she really didn’t get that type of attention. He watched Y/N turn herself away from the field to roll her lips inwards as a smile warned to spread. And due to her red undertone, there was an obvious blush that he caught. He glanced back at Harry who had lost all interest in the game as he wondered if Y/N was alright.

When she finally collected herself, she turned back around but her eyes widened as she caught Harry watching her. He waved at her again before throwing up a thumbs up as a question. Y/N looked behind her, thinking he was asking someone else, and he could feel his heart squeeze at her oblivion. She turned back and mimicked his gesture, which he nodded at and went back to playing. Coach James watched the whole thing.

Y/N habit of wiping the corners of her mouth when she was nervous in any type of way didn’t go unnoticed by Coach James. He muttered, “Well I’ll be damned,” under his breath as he realized Y/N might’ve caught a romantic eye for one his players. And he was feeling the same way. But Coach James knew Harry; the frat boy.

By the end of practice, Coach James waited for Harry outside the locker room to pull him over. He was a little worried that he would be punished for his actions because he wasn’t being slick about it.

His shades were back over his eyes as he hovered over his tall player. “Her name is Y/N and she’s my niece, and she loves photography and ice cream. She’s quiet and avoids most social interactions, especially with boys because they used to pick on her for being ‘fragile’,” He started with a serious tone. Harry listened confusedly, but still noted his words. “She’s gotten better but still isn’t good with attention, and I would never force her to overcome that unless she wants to get better.”

“Why are you telling me this, Coach?”

He raised his hand to stop Harry. “You are not the most innocent boy here, and I have an idea of your history. You live in the most popular frat house and Y/N has told me stories of the things that happen at your parties because her roommate would always force her to join her.”

Harry stared at his coach with slight defeat as he realized what he was trying to say. It was unlike him to care what adults said to him because if he wanted something, he’d get it, but this felt different. Y/N didn’t seem like something he’d want to tousle with so carelessly.

“I saw you both today and I know you were planning on talking to her after practice, so I’m here to make sure you think before you act,” Coach James took a step closer to Harry. “Y/N is not just an innocent body for you to use for the night. She is a girl with feelings and won’t take your games so lightly if you play her the wrong way. I’m warning you, as her uncle, that if I find out you treated her like a frat boy, we will have problems. And as you coach, you will be on that bench more than the field.”

It was easy to take Coach James’ threat as Harry was thinking just like him. It didn’t even cross his mind to treat Y/N like he would’ve with any girl. And he had to talk to her to figure out why he suddenly felt that way.

So, to Coach James’ threat, Harry nodded and reached out to shake hands with him. “Yes, sir.” They stared at each other for a long minute until a presence was felt beside them. They both whipped their head to Y/N standing shyly near them. Lucky for them, she hadn’t heard their whole conversation about her, just his threat to be benched if he did something.

Y/N eyes were on Harry at first, staring at him in awe from up close. He was taller than she expected and, for a guy that just played a long scrimmage, smelled amazing.

When she realized she was eyeing him for too long, she quickly switched to her uncle and motioned to her camera. “I’ll be the team’s photographer if I have time to stop by. I probably won’t be here all the time so I’ll take twice as many pictures to last for a while,” She explained.

Coach James smiled and walked towards her, Harry following behind.

“I’ll accept that, thanks for your work today, kiddo,” He nodded, rubbing her shoulder. “Are you on your way back to your dorm?”

“No, I was going to get ice cream. I’m craving both strawberry and cookies and cream,” She shrugged, noticing Harry’s eyes intensely on her.

She loves photography and ice cream.

“Alright, enjoy your treat then. I’ll see you soon,” Coach James laughed as he turned to walk towards the parking lot where his car was situated. He swiftly darted his eyes to Harry, which the player shooed him away and brought his attention to Y/N.

She was looking down at her camera as she walked in the opposite direction. He quickly made it to her side and smiled. “Do you mind if I join you? I think after all those goals, I can definitely celebrate with some ice cream.” Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

“Narcissist, are you?” She snarled with a lifted brow.

“Or I’m just amazing at soccer and can’t help but be proud of my hard work,” Harry shrugged, assuming she was okay with him coming with her as she didn’t decline him. “I’m Harry, by the way. I’ve seen you come around the field quite a few times. Haven’t gotten the chance to actually talk.”

“I know you from that one party I went to. I remember hating you. I’m Y/N,” she said bluntly, turning off her camera. Harry paused as he was a little taken back by her sudden confession. Also, he never recalled ever seeing her at any of their parties because if he did, he would’ve wanted to remember her. But again, he was always too busy fucking girls in his bedroom to take notice. “I’m not having sex with you, I just want ice cream tonight,” She sighed.

Harry slowly smiled as he stared down at the girl. She was very interesting with her simple features and introverted personality. He really wanted to know more.

“I just want ice cream tonight too. And to be around you, which I’m already really enjoying,” Harry boldly spoke the last part to her. She glanced over at him and gave him a quick look up and down. The fact she was very calm about her current situation was a little concerning to her. But all she could think about, after long hours of classes, was ice cream.

“Why? You don’t know me.”

Harry shrugged, “I know, but I’d like to change that, if you’ll let me.” He whipped out an endearing smile that Y/N couldn’t help but be immediately swooned by. God, she hated the power Harry already had over her, but she was gonna make sure he didn’t know that.

“I don’t have much to offer, so don’t have any expectations.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Y/N cringed and shook her shoulders. “Ew, don’t say that like I’m one of your professors.” Harry chuckled at her soft gag and shiver.

“My bad, love.”

Y/N was very confused that she was okay with one of her least favorite things in the world, a college boy, join her to have ice cream. She loved to sit in the corner of her favorite parlor and eat alone because nothing could ruin her in those moments. But now she had allowed some boy to keep her company, which is something she didn’t know she’d learn to love.

“So, frat boy Harry, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor? And there is a right answer,” she smirked up at him.

Harry rolled his lips inwards as his heart started harshly pounding for the first time in a long time about a girl.

How They Started Dating

Harry was in Y/N’s dorm, waiting for her to get back from class. He had slept over that night and decided to stay in her room so afterwards, he could have her all to himself for a few hours before they went to practice together and any lingering eyes could be on her. After many weeks of photographing and having Harry and Coach James’ protection, Y/N was feeling better about being around the team. She wasn’t best friends with any of them, but their eyes weren’t bothering her like before. And Harry made sure they kept their attention on anything else besides his current crush.

Earlier that day, he had received a text from his frat house groupchat that they invited a handful of girls over to watch a movie and play some games. It might’ve sounded like an innocent hang out, but he knew exactly what he was being offered. Sex.

No doubt Harry would’ve been there in less than ten minutes, no matter where he was, but for an important reason to him, he wasn’t interested at all. He just continued to throw his soccer ball in the air and catch it with his fingertips before shooting it back up. He was laying on Y/N’s bed, surrounded by her heavy scent of cinnamon and apples. It was heaven, and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

When Niall realized Harry hadn’t messaged his arrival time, he decided to call him. He was the first to notice a change in Harry over the passing weeks. It wasn’t like him to decline every opportunity to have his cock deep in some random girl’s mouth until his come shot down her throat and that was the last time he ever spoke to her. Harry was always the most eager to have girls over and immediately get down to business. That was a reasoning for his popularity around the campus.

“H, what’s going on?” Niall cut straight to the chase when he answered.

“Nothing, why?” Harry shrugged with his phone held between his shoulder and ear as he spun the soccer ball on his fingertip.

“Did you not see my text? Girls, our house, movies, games, bedrooms, alone. You should’ve gotten it right away,” Niall scoffed by his friend’s apparent oblivion.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I understood what you were saying, Niall, but I’m not interested. Don’t let me stop you from hosting, though.”

Niall stared at his phone in shock with his hand slapped on his forehead. He double checked to make sure he was on the phone with the right person because even though the voice was the same, his words were the complete opposite of his true self. He hated how Harry was becoming some sort of holy virgin who avoided all seduction that was thrown his way.

“Where are you? Are you busy or something? I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t move everything out the way for this opportunity,” Niall asked, still trying to understand what was happening to his best friend.

Just then, footsteps grew louder as they approached the door, harmonized with slow grumbling. Harry’s smile instantly grew as the ticking hours counted down to only a few seconds. He turned to his side with his head still snuggled in her pillow.

“I’m hanging out with a friend, okay? I have to go, have fun,” Harry brushed Niall off and immediately hung up before tossing his phone to the side.

His heart rapidly pounded as the door unlocked and the handle was pushed down to reveal the girl he had been thinking about since the night before when she overtook his dreams. The only thing that caught him off guard was the deep frown on her face.

She didn’t acknowledge Harry’s presence, at first, as she threw her bag near her closet and walked to her bed. She slammed her hands on the mattress, right near his stomach and muttered under her breath.

Even though she was in an obvious pissy mood, Harry still couldn’t get over how surreal she was. Her head dropped down with her hair falling to cover her face. Harry reached out to push the loose strands behind her ear and lifted her chin to his level. Her eyes didn’t meet his as she was still uncomfortable with that kind of contact.

“I missed you,” Harry spoke first, running his hand down her arm that stayed planted on her bed. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl?”

"Boys are so stupid,” She muttered. “Why do I even bother interacting with them? They just itch me in all the wrong ways. Their fucking rude, misogynistic, and straight up idiots. Like, of course, with my luck, I have to partner up with the most grating person ever and do all the work because he can't even read to the letter 'g’," she grumbled, covering her eyes with one of her hands.

Harry continued to stare at her, taken aback by her outburst because she never spoke like that around him. She always waited until she was alone to let out her frustration. But he was glad she felt comfortable enough to speak like that in front of him. It was a step in the right direction to having her like he wanted.

"That’s annoying," Harry commented. Y/N finally looked over at him with a shy smile, making his heart literally explode. She was so fucking pretty.

"Yeah, agreed," she giggled, “I thought you’d be back at the frat with your friends, making out with some hot girls.” Harry rolled his eyes and hit her in the shoulder, which made her laugh.

“Not interested in making out with some hot girl if it isn’t you,” Harry bluntly spoke, tapping her lips boldly. Y/N instantly blushed, trying to hide her cheek in her shoulder as they both felt that giddish tickle in their stomachs.

Y/N sighed, leaning forward so she was almost hovering over Harry’s face. “One of your girl friends asked where you went last night. You left her in your bedroom and didn’t return her texts,” She said in a whisper, remembering the nasty interaction she had with that girl. “Then she wanted to know if you were going to be at the frat house today for the movie and sex night planned.”

Harry instantly realized why Y/N mentioned making out with other girls, just by the way she spoke. He frowned as he watched her knowingly stare at him. A small smirk was spread across her face, but it was lingering with a hint of sadness. Y/N was quickly falling for this guy who wouldn't leave her alone, even though she grew to love it. She knew he was a typical frat boy who couldn't resist the girls that threw themselves at him, but she had hoped she was good enough to make him stop.

They weren’t dating so Harry wasn’t obligated to give all of himself to Y/N. She had to make it known that no one else should have him but her. The problem was, Y/N was terrible at doing that. She wasn’t good at expressing her feelings or showing Harry how much he affected her life since the moment he talked to her that day at practice. So, it wasn’t fair to get mad at him because she wasn’t trying as hard as all the other girls to prove that she deserved to have him all to herself.

“She was really pretty, so I get it,” Y/N tried to brush off her slight anger. “I was just wondering why you came here last night instead of staying with her. I have less to offer and I’m not really—”

“I left her because she wouldn’t leave me alone, baby. I was going to invite you to stay at mine but I didn’t know other people besides my roommates were going to be there. She happened to be one of those people and wouldn’t stop begging me to sleep with her. I told her constantly that it wasn’t going to happen but she apparently couldn’t accept that, so I decided to just come to yours,” Harry simply explained. Y/N paused, staring at him dumbfounded. He watched her expression blankly, and she suddenly started feeling like a complete idiot.

She groaned and covered her eyes. Harry just laughed it off because it did sound sketchy that a girl was in his room late last night.

“Shit, wow, I’m an idiot,” she mumbled.

“No, don’t say that. It’s totally cool, and I’m glad we were able to clear that up, ya know?”

“Harry, stop. You can be mad at me for assuming. I shouldn’t have but—“

Harry suddenly caressed Y/N cheek and said, "You know I like you, right?" Y/N furrowed her brows before she laughed.

"I mean, I sure hope you do because this would be a very awkward one sided friendship,” she shrugged, holding his wrist as he brushed his thumb along her cheek and lips. “And you slept in my room so that would be weird if you didn’t like me."

Something about her slight oblivion made Harry like Y/N even more, if that was even possible. It might've also turned him on a little bit, but that was just because he knew how much work he’d have to put into winning her heart.

"No, baby, I mean, I like like you,” Harry shook his head, making Y/N brows furrow, “The 'I want to date you and have you all to myself, but not just because you're amazing in every way, but because I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you' kind of like.”

Y/N was at awe at his sudden confession.

“Harry, are you serious?”

“I don't want to scare you away or put you under any pressure, but I really think I want to marry you, Y/N. I wouldn't say I see us in twenty years having ten kids, being stuck with miserable cubicle jobs, and coming home to sleeping on opposite sides of the beds because I’m just too crazy about you to let us end up that way. But I do want you to be my wife one day, and I don't even mind if you keep your last name. If you want to make a name out of yourself and keep it, then I’m all for it, but I just want to know that you’re mine and I’m yours."

Harry let out a long breath when he finished, scattering his eyes around her face to figure out what she was thinking as she stared back blankly. Y/N wasn’t one to advertise her feelings with her face so Harry waited for words to be spoken. He just continued to rub her cheek and smile at her. Yeah, he definitely wanted this girl to be his wife one day.

Y/N took a minute to process what he was trying to say, and when she did, the first thing she said was, "You're a psycho." Harry would’ve taken that reaction the wrong way if he didn’t see the small smile spread over her lips. She switched from holding herself up by her one hand to leaning down on her elbows so she was brough closer to Harry’s face.

"I’d call it hopeful," He shrugged.

"How are you so sure about me? I’m not even sure about myself, and I don’t know how to be a good partner. I’m so… weird," Her voice dropped to a whisper as she glanced away. “You’ve had a lot of girlfriends so that’s a lot of people to compare myself to, and I don’t think I’m the right person for this.”

“Well, that’s for me to decide and I’ve already made up my mind, so this will only work if you’re all in, like me.”

Y/N sighed, biting her lip nervously. If she had known her afternoon would end up here, she would’ve mentally prepared herself weeks ago. And it showed all over her face that she was insecure about her dating abilities.

“You don’t have to answer me now, Y/N. Just think about it,” Harry grabbed her attention by turning her face towards him. “I’m very patient when it comes to you, baby.”

“I think you should think about this too, Harry. I literally assumed you had sex with some girl then came to sleep at my dorm. Are you really sure about me?” Y/N huffed.

"Y/N, you aren’t understanding me. I really like you. And I quite desperately want you to be my girlfriend, but only if you want that to happen,” He chuckled. “I don’t want you to have to assume I’m with some girl anymore because I just want to only have you. I don’t need anyone else.”

"Again, why?"

"I want to change your mind about the kind of person I am. I want to be different, and not just for you but for myself. I want to be completely done with random hookups and letting girls have me anytime. I want to belong to someone, and that person is you.”

Y/N reached for Harry’s face and traced his eyebrows with her finger. "Harry, I wasn’t trying to offend you earlier with bringing up that girl. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want."

"I know that, but I only care about being the person you want and more. Only yours."

Y/N went quiet, watching her finger trail the sharp line of Harry’s jawline to his ears. He waited for her to speak again, holding back with more confessions because he didn’t want to overwhelm her any more.

"What if I say no?" Y/N suddenly asked.

"Well I'll leave to cry for a bit, but then come back and ask why. If you really don’t want to try us out then so be it, you know? Simple."

"You'll accept no?" She poked his nose with a lifted brow.

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry frowned.

"Men."

Harry laughed with a nod. "Yeah, I hate them more than you do."

"I don't think that's possible."

"That's probably true. If looks could kill, all the guys here would drop dead instantly,” He shrugged.

Y/N stared at his features, enjoying how close they were. Her eyes slowly trailed down to his lips as they widened into a smile.

"Did that girl kiss you yesterday?" She asked in a whisper.

"No,” He immediately answered back.

"Have you kissed any girl lately?"

"I’ve been obsessing over you lately, was I not obvious?"

Y/N laughed and brought herself closer to him.

“Then can I kiss you?” She asked boldly. Harry’s eyes widened, not expecting for her to ask for that kind of intimacy before him.

He instantly nodded and, as he held her jaw, brought their lips together.

Her lips felt just like he expected, and even better. They were plushy and soft, molding with his just right. She let him lead it into a more rougher make out as his tongue darted into her mouth.

Y/N let out a soft moan as she tried to keep up with the pace of Harry’s lips. His breath tasted like candy, something he was always snacking on, and his mouth was comfortably warm like a fireplace during winter.

Harry pulled away for a quick second, sitting up and motioning for Y/N to join him on her bed. If she wasn’t so comfortable with him, and didn’t just sleep in the same bed as him last night, she would’ve been pretty cautious about his offer. But she was too desperate for his lips again to care.

She threw her leg over his so her knees were on each side of him. He leaned against the headboard and grabbed her waist to pull her closer to his chest. He wasn’t wearing a shirt as he saw no reason to because he hadn’t left her room since that morning.

“Please,” she whimpered under his breath as she waited for Harry to connect their lips again.

“I got you, baby. Don’t worry,” he held her face with one of his hands and brought her back into another steamy session.

The room was filled with soft humming and moans and the ruffles of her sheets as Y/N couldn’t seem to stay put. She kept squirming on his lap, trying to get as close to him as possible.

Harry was in pure heaven, forgetting everything but her. That’s all he wanted on his mind; her.

The pair finally pulled away to catch their breath. Her head fell on his shoulder as she licked her lips in hopes to savor his taste.

"I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over your lips,” Harry sighed, slowly bringing his hands under her shirt to massage her back. He was relieved that she didn’t protest because he was so desperate to feel her warmth.

"What can I say? I'm one of a kind,” Y/N giggled.

"Yeah, you're like a rare Pokémon card or something."

She lifted up her head to look at him. She raised a brow and smirked, “Do you even know what Pokémon's are?"

"Not really, but I know I could get killed if I happen to have a super rare trading card,” he shrugged.

"So by having me, you could get killed?"

"Yeah."

"Then maybe getting married is a bad idea,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She brought her face close enough to rub her nose against his.

Harry’s heart began to pound loudly, and he was sure she heard it. He wanted to cry because of the relief he had that he finally confessed to her how much he wanted her.

"I never said it wasn't worth it."

"But I don't want my husband dying."

Harry gasped teasingly. “I'm your husband already? You didn't even propose to me, baby."

Y/N joined his joke and frowned. "I don't have a ring."

“Are you serious? This is very unromantic of you. I don't think this thing we're doing is going to work if you can't even get me a proper ring," Harry scoffed.

Y/N pouted and Harry bit his lip to hide an incoming smile from her adorable face. He was about to jokingly apologize, but then Y/N’s eyes suddenly widened.

"Wait, I think I do,” she exclaimed, before quickly hopping off of Harry and her bed. She ran to her bucket full of snacks and blindly searched for what she was looking for. “I have just the thing, my lovely fiancé,” she wiggled her brows at Harry.

He turned to throw his legs off the side of her bed and planted his hands behind him.

“What is it?”

Y/N hummed when she grabbed what she needed and snuck it behind her back. She smiled widely and walked back to stand in front of Harry. He spread his legs so she could stand in between them.

Before she could reveal her surprise, Harry couldn’t help but kiss her forehead and rub her cheek with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered. Y/N was taken back by his words as his face suddenly softened.

“Thank you,” she nodded, glancing away from his intense eyes. He was okay with that because like Coach James said, he wasn’t going to force her to overcome a fear unless she wanted to. “Okay, stop distracting me. Close your eyes.”

“Shit sorry, go on,” he laughed, before straightening his face and shutting his lids close.

All Harry heard was a lot of ruffling of a wrapper and Y/N giggling under her breath.

“Okay, and open,” she exclaimed.

Harry did as she said and looked at her ecstatic face before moving down to what was in her hand. A blue raspberry Ring Pop. He wanted to kiss her all over again.

“Y/N—“

"I just bought a package of them and I was gonna give you one after your practice today because I already knew you were going to do an amazing job, but might as well put them to use now,” she explained, motioning for his hand.

Harry laughed and leaned down to passionately kiss her. She gladly accepted his lips and wrapped an arm around his neck to keep him close.

When he pulled back, he took the ring from her and held her hand with his other. “Let me,” he told her. She shrugged and let him slide the ring pop on her thumb because she had small hands and it didn’t fit on any other.

“Wait, here’s another,” she reached for her nightstand to grab the other ring pop from the package she bought. She ripped it open and gave it to Harry to slide on his own ring finger.

He grabbed Y/N’s pinky with his own and then interlocked them. They decided to use the ring pops as promise rings. He promised to be a better person for Y/N and his own self. She promised to try her best to be a good girlfriend and trust him because things were going to get rocky when it got around campus that Harry was now someone’s.

They finished their confessions with kisses and clinking their ring pops together.

"So, did these confirm that we're dating now?" Harry asked.

Y/N nodded, but then frowned. “What happens after I eat mine?"

"I hope you'd still be my girlfriend,” he answered, already licking her ring pop because he got cherry flavored but preferred blue raspberry. She giggled and reached for his ring to lick his flavor.

"I suppose."

crying, throwing up, falling down the stairs, and everything in between

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles x yn #harrystyles #harry styles fanfic #college!harry #harry styles boyfriend #Harry styles one shot #quiet!yn

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