#the album series

[typical-simplelove]

Summer Baby (M. Rantanen)

Summary: Throughout one summer, you're reminded why you fell in love with Mikko all those years ago.

Author's Note: This is my submission for the 2023 Summer Fic Exchange, put on by @wyattjohnston. This is written for the ever-lovely @buttercupjosh. I truly hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: implied!female reader; LOTS of pining; kind of stupid idiots in love; mentions of alcohol; a few curse words

Word Count: 11.7k

When an internship brought you to Denver, Colorado in the summer of 2016, you never thought you’d fall in love. It was supposed to be ten weeks of learning more about the industry you’re working to get your undergraduate degree in. It was supposed to be ten weeks of exploring Denver during the weeknights and exploring the state's beautiful landscapes on the weekend. You weren’t expecting to fall in love, but then you bumped into him on that one trail on your second weekend in the city and everything changed. 

He wasn’t a native; his accent made that clear. You couldn’t figure out exactly where he was from, but it seemed to be European. It was his second summer in the city, and he chose to stay in the US instead of returning home. Something about training, he said. Turns out that “training” was preparing for the next hockey season. 

Mikko Rantanen, a player for the Colorado Avalanche, stole your heart in ten short weeks, and you never managed to recreate that same love ever again. 

In those ten weeks, you got to know him, and he seemed to insert himself into your life, into the crevices that no one else seemed to seep into. He managed to pull out of you emotions, reactions, secrets, and more that no one else in the world seemed to see. He opened up your walls and gates and managed to make himself a permanent mark in your heart, life, mind, and soul. 

There was no doubt that you were going to fall in love with him, and halfway through the summer, you knew you did. Your heart burst whenever you had dinner with him, hiked one of the local trails, took a trip to some small town a few hours away on the weekends, talked to him, and watched him train on the ice. Every hug, call, smile, word, and touch had you falling in love with Mikko, piece by piece. 

You couldn’t tell if he fell in love with you, but it didn’t matter. You knew that once the internship was over, you’d be heading back to your hometown for a few weeks before moving back to your off-campus apartment. It was never going to work out with Mikko in the long run, so you opted to fall in love with this beautiful, funny, caring, talented, and handsome man who seemed to get you and understand you in a way that no one else on this planet seemed to. 

You fell in love, and that final goodbye at the airport was the worst. He kissed your cheek and held you as tightly as he possibly could. He held your hand tightly all the way through the line to check in, and he held on tightly as you walked to the security line. He wrapped an arm tightly around your waist as you waited to get to that first checkpoint where only ticketed passengers could enter. He kissed your forehead and held you tightly when you were second in line. When it was you next in line, he whispered, “thank you for giving me one of the best summers of my life.” 

That’s when you realized he fell in love with you just as much as you fell in love with him. Your heart broke right there as he let go of you for the last time and exited the line so that you could go through security. The realization that he loved you was lodged deep in your throat as you mindlessly went through security, towards your gate, and onto the plane. You thought of all the things you could have been doing over the past ten weeks if just one of you was strong and brave enough to tell the other your feelings. But then, you thought about it, and you knew that ten weeks (less, really) wouldn’t have ever been enough with Mikko. As much as you wanted to hold him, taste him, feel him, and do so much more than friendship with him, you knew that once you had a taste of Mikko, you’d only want more. You wanted everything with Mikko, so never getting to experience more than friendship with him was a gift because if you had to say goodbye after knowing him more intimately than possible, then you wouldn’t be able to find the courage to keep going. 

Mikko was your greatest love story, and that wasn’t ever going to change, even when you both eventually lost contact due to his hectic travel schedule and your busy schedule with school and work. You didn’t ever forget him. When things got tough, you thought about that one summer with Mikko, all the sunsets and pool days and hikes and shared water bottles.  There wasn’t a day when you didn’t think about him. You wanted to search for him online (you unfollowed him a few months after the conversations stopped), but you knew your heart couldn’t take it. It would have been so easy to Google his name, but it took so long for you to come to terms with the ache in your heart; you couldn’t do that to yourself again. 

Your heart would always ache for Mikko, that wasn’t going to change. 

When you returned to Denver seven years later for relocation for work, the ache in your heart grew. It’s as if your heart and soul knew you were returning to the place where you met Mikko. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see him again. What would it even be like to see Mikko again after seven years? Would your heart still burn for him? Would he still light up the room and the world—your world? Would he still manage to seamlessly seep into your crevices and walls and gates and make you feel safe? 

Did you still love Mikko with your entire heart? 

A few weeks after you moved to Denver and settled into your new apartment, you were off to a friend’s wedding—the first wedding to mark the start of the summer wedding season. Late June weddings were always your favorite (maybe because at that point they were still fun). 

You weren’t sure what to expect as you didn’t know anyone. This was one of the friends you made during that internship all those years ago who you managed to stay in touch with. She was born and raised in Colorado and still lived there, and she was really one of the only people outside of work that you knew (besides Mikko, but did he count?)

As you took a seat at the reception in the middle back of the venue, you took in the beautiful scenery. The heat was starting to get you, so you began to fan yourself with your program. You were looking down at your phone, reading a book, when something deep in your stomach urged you to look up at the group of men walking up the aisle to find a seat together. At first, you were confused because you didn’t recognize them. You almost looked down, but then a familiar mop of hair and shoulders sauntered up the aisle and slipped into the last empty seat in that row. It looked like him, but it had been so long that you couldn’t be sure if it even was him. 

You keep glancing at him, your eyes darting between him and the arch at the head of the aisle. He needed to turn his head to the side, but he kept leaning forward to talk to someone in front of him. You tried to see if you could hear him (you’d recognize his accent and voice anywhere), but it was too loud. 

Thankfully, your stressing over him came to an end when the wedding song began to play and the bridal party began to make their walk down the aisle. Your eyes were trained on the bridesmaids and flower girls when you felt a familiar pair of eyes on the side of your head. The warmth that rose on your face at the feel of his eyes looking at you warmed every blood vessel and nerve in your body. You never knew that you were so cold until his eyes landed on you at exactly that moment. You wanted to look over at him because you knew it was him, but you didn’t know what that would do to your sanity, so your eyes remained trained on the bridal party. 

When the warmth slowly faded from your body, you knew that he looked away and retrained his focus on the wedding party. That’s when you finally looked at him. Of course, it was him. If the warmth that spread through your body was any indication, it was him. Of course, he managed to still elicit this reaction out of you. 

Mikko Rantanen always had a special effect on you that you couldn’t understand. 

You kept wanting to look at him throughout the rest of the ceremony, but you kept your eyes firmly trained at the front of the venue where the ceremony was taking place. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him looking back at you throughout the program. You so desperately wanted to look at him and stare deep into his eyes; however, you knew that the minute you did, you’d become still and your body will light on fire. You wouldn’t be able to function, so you kept your eyes strictly fastened on the bride and groom or down on your lap at the program. 

He was right there, after seven years, and you were without a doubt still hopelessly in love with him. You thought that after all these years his effect on you would have diminished, but it hadn’t. 

As the wedding ceremony ended, you remembered cheering and clapping loudly, but it was all a haze. Mikko was sitting a few rows up, and it took everything in your willpower not to jump over all these people and launch into your arms (that and the fact it would be very embarrassing). 

Slowly, you made your way toward where the cocktail party was taking place. You did your best to blend into the crowd and be as inconspicuous as possible. You wanted to see your friend and her new husband, so you joined in the line to greet them. You prayed to whatever deity existed in the world that Mikko wouldn’t see you and wouldn’t walk up to you. You weren’t sure if you could handle talking to him or seeing his stupidly, beautiful face. 

Thankfully, after glancing behind you briefly, he and his friends were in line and talking amongst themselves. He was nursing a drink and his back was to you. If things went well, then hopefully you’d be able to make it through the night without talking to him or seeing him. As much as you wanted to return to the center of gravity in the world (him), you worked so hard to heal your heart and soul after having to leave him. 

By the time you reached the bride and groom, you were mostly out of your head in stress, anxiety, and overthinking. You hugged her tightly and congratulated her before heading over to the bar and getting a drink. With a drink in hand, you entered the reception area and found your table. You took longer than normal to find your place card because you wanted to see where Mikko was sitting. Thankfully, he wasn’t at your table, and he was at table 11 while you were at 15. Hopefully, that means he’s quite a ways away from you. 

You took a seat and introduced yourself to everyone else sitting at your table. As the guests lingered inside, you managed to strike up a conversation with a few of the bride and groom’s coworkers. If this kept up, then you’d be able to make it through the night. 

It was forty or so minutes into the reception when you felt that same warmth. This time, it spread from your back to your front. It took you a few moments to collect yourself. You wanted to turn around, but from the sounds of it, the people behind you were chatting away and hadn’t sat down. If he was standing right there, then you couldn’t turn around to look at him. You weren’t ready for that. 

He was laughing and talking with someone, and just hearing his velvety voice was enough to send your heart into overdrive. Mikko was right there (right behind you!), and you were just about to die from your heart beating too fast and overheating. 

You’re saved, though, by the DJ announcing the entrance of the bride and groom, and you heard the chairs against the marble floor of the people behind you. As much as you wanted to look at him behind you, the way the bride and groom were entering was facing you perfectly, so that meant that if you turned around, you’d see Mikko perfectly and he’d see you perfectly, too. 

Someone has to give your willpower a raise because it’s working overtime right now to keep you from turning to look Mikko in the eyes for the first time in seven years because it knows the minute you do, you will be captivated and hypnotized by him, erasing all the work it took for you to continue on with your life. 

The rest of the evening carried on, with speeches, dinner, the first/final dances, and the eventual migration of everyone to the dance floor. From the sounds of it, Mikko and his table were on the dance floor, so you felt it was safe to turn and watch. As you suspected, he was right there. You couldn’t help but break out into a wide smile as you watched him dance with the flower girl and twirl her around. He was so vibrant and happy. That’s why you fell in love with him, you remind yourself. He always lit up a room and a life, and right now, he was lighting up the life of that little girl. 

You needed a drink, fast, to manage the emotions you felt, so you walked over to the bar, not even thinking that you had to walk right past Mikko. As you were maneuvering through the drunk dancers, you had to slow down, and you heard him call your name. It was loud in the ballroom, but you could hear him perfectly. It sent a wave of ice through your bones before a warm sigh settled. The line at the bar was long, and you could hear him catching up to you, so you took a detour to the washroom. 

Just as you opened the door to the washroom, you felt a few fingers on your arm, beckoning you to turn around, but you walked into the washroom, shutting the door as fast as you can. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were so clearly flushed and overwhelmed. Your body was radiating heat like wildfires; you were afraid the heat would melt the ornate decorations in the washroom.

Wanting to calm yourself down, you washed your hands in cold water. You didn’t know how long you were going to wait in that washroom. How long would he wait for you? Thankfully, though, there were some couches, so you took a seat and scrolled through the phone you remembered to grab. 

Five minutes went by, and you wondered if Mikko was still out there. You wanted to go back to enjoy the wedding, but you couldn’t in good faith run into Mikko. Just as you were ready to leave the washroom, a woman walks in. 

“Excuse me,” you interrupt. She looks at you, slightly startled. “Would you mind telling me if there are any men waiting outside the bathroom?”

“Are you in trouble?” she ardently asks, worried. 

Shaking your head, you reply, “I just don’t want to run into an ex.” That was kind of the truth, right? 

“Just my husband, I believe, but I wasn’t looking at hard,” she replies. You thank her before she walks into a stall. Taking a deep breath, you walk out of the washroom, your hand still firmly on the handle just in case Mikko is out there, and you need a quick escape. 

He isn’t, just that woman’s husband, so you make your way down the corridor. Just as you’re about to think you’re in the clear, a clear, Finnish-accented voice called your name. On instinct, you turned around and tried to make your way back to the washroom, but his hand lightly grasped your wrist. It wasn’t too tight. You could have easily slipped your hand out and walked away, and your heart gleamed at the thought that Mikko gave you an easy and quick escape if you weren’t comfortable. 

“Please,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you. The familiar notes to a slow song echoed through the ballroom. “Dance with me?”

You nodded. “Let me just put my phone down on my table.”

“No,” Mikko says, taking your phone out of your hand and slipping it into his pocket. He guided you toward the dance floor, and you bet your entire life savings on him muttering, “I’m not letting you go again.” 

At the dance floor, Mikko guided you into a slow sway with one hand on your waist—his thumb stroking small circles on the thin fabric of your back—and another gripping your hand, holding it close to his heart. He was looking down at you, but you were looking at everything except for him. You felt his eyes on you as you mimicked a middle schooler who was too afraid to stare at their crush during the slow song. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be in town,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear. 

“Yeah, I moved here a few weeks ago,” you tell him, softly, angling your head towards his, slowly. You closed your eyes, not ready to look at him yet. Mikko moves his head, slightly, so his cheek is resting against yours. You both dance like that for a few beats before Mikko slips his hand out of yours and wraps it around your waist and pulls you flush against his body. On instinct, your hand joins your other around his neck, and you pull him close to you. 

You. Love. Him. So. Much. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers, his breath tickling you and the vibrations ricocheting off his chest to yours. “That you moved here?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me,” you reply, your thumbs playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Mikko moves his head back so quickly that it feels violent. You know he’s looking at you, trying to search your face, but you’ve angled your face away from him, staring off at someone or something else—anything that’s not him. He shifts his head so it's right in front of your line of sight, but you’re quick to look away. That game continues a few times before Mikko sighs and rests his hand beneath your chin, angling his head towards yours. Again, his touch is soft, so you can quickly pull away. 

Your fact is angled in a way that he can look you directly in your eyes, but you close them, not ready to look at him. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asks, his voice strained and hurt. 

“I can’t let my heart break again,” you reply, putting all your force into keeping your eyes again. 

Mikko’s grip on your waist tightens as he says, “please look at me. Please.”

That second please is what gets you, so you open your eyes. Your eyes are met with his piercing blue ones, and your breathing and heart rate dramatically increase. 

“Mikko—”

You’re not sure what you’re trying to say or what you want to say, but you’re just looking at him. He’s blinking fast, and you know that’s his tell that he’s nervous and scared. He takes his hands off your chin and briefly brushes some of your hair to the side before his hand returns to your waist. You do the same, brushing some of his curls further up his forehead, before leaning closer. You wanted to feel his heat and warmth. You never wanted this cocoon he wrapped you in to end. 

“You gave me one of the best summers of my life,” he says out of nowhere. “Of course I’d want you to call.” His voice is low, quiet, rough, and dangerous. You know that if you kissed him right now, he’d kiss you back, but can you do it? Can you let yourself fall into him again knowing how long it took you to fall out of him again? Would the cages and locks and chains on your heart open up again, even though it’s Mikko? 

His eyes flicker down to your lips before he stares intently into your eyes again before leaning closer. You’re going to let him kiss you, but thankfully, you’re saved when the DJ says the groom wants to make a small speech. You pull back, and your hands go from around his neck to sliding over his shoulders, down his chest, where they rest on the shirt covering his upper chest. 

When the groom starts to talk, you take your hands off him and slowly slip from his hold on you. You slowly reach into his pants pocket and pull out your phone. Mikko’s fingers are lingering on your skin as you look up at him one more time before you slip out of his orbit entirely and back to your table. You grab your clutch and wrap before making your way out of the ballroom and towards your car. 

You once let yourself fall into Mikko’s orbit and gravity, and it was one of the best experiences of your life, but it hurt when that orbit and gravity floated away. 

You loved him still without a doubt, but would your heart let you open back up and slip back into his orbit? 

Mikko was already back in your orbit if tonight was any indication, but could you let yourself fall back into his? 

It was a few weeks after the wedding, and you were still reeling from seeing Mikko. You tried your best to forget about him and the feel of his arms wrapped around you, but you couldn’t. When you went to bed each night, you fell asleep, dreaming about his warm body from that one dance at the wedding, and you woke up each morning, sad that your bed was cold because his large, warm body wasn’t right next to yours. 

Did you make the right decision to leave? Should you have stayed and talked to him? What more was there to say? (So much more, actually). 

Ultimately, though, you weren’t ready to delve into all those emotions with Mikko when you weren’t even sure what you were feeling. Mikko was going to kiss you; it was without a doubt, and you were going to let him. Once he kissed you, though, what came next? For you, that kiss should be the start of something with him. It should be a healing of the ache over the past seven years, and it should tie a bow to the story from seven years ago and start the sequel right now. But you weren’t sure what Mikko wanted.  Was it just going to be a kiss because he had someone pretty in his arms? Was it going to mean as much to him as it did to you?

All this overthinking made you realize that maybe it was better that you didn’t kiss him and left. Until you could exactly articulate in words, out loud what you wanted from Mikko, you shouldn’t make any contact with him. It was already so hard to even see him, so going in confused and unsure wasn’t going to solve anything.

That seemed mature, right? 

Or were you just running away because you were scared? 

One night, you were laying on your couch, one of your favorite sitcoms playing in the background, as you were scrolling through Instagram. You swiped to check a message that one of your friends sent you in response to something you posted on your story. The little (1) next to the requests tab surprised you, so you clicked on the tab and threw your phone across the room when you saw who it was. 

Of course, Mikko was acting maturely and reached out to you. 

After taking several deep breaths, you got up to retrieve your phone and opened Mikko’s message. From the looks of it, he messaged you a few days after the wedding. He wrote: 

Hey. It was really great to see you, and I’d love to see you again to catch up. I have a day off on Saturday and planning on walking and hiking at Cherry Creek Trail. Feel free to join me. I’ll meet you at ten? I’ll wait for you for half an hour. See you soon, hopefully! 

He wanted to see you, and he wanted to do it at one of your favorite hiking locations, and he sent this to you three weeks ago. You can’t imagine the emotions he must have been going through to both send this message and wait those three days for Saturday to come. Then, the emotions during that half-hour, waiting for you, and then his heart shattering when you didn’t show up.

You had to text him back. What would you say? How do you apologize to a man who has been nothing but amazing and understanding to you?  

After typing, deleting, and overanalyzing your message, you finally sent: 

Hey. It was great to see you, too, and I’m sorry that I didn’t see this until now. Your message wasn’t on my main screen, so I didn’t see it. If it makes you feel better, I would have been at the Trail. If you’re free, I’d like to have a raincheck. Let me know! 

Once you sent it, you turned off your phone and went to bed. You didn’t know if he was going to make you wait a few weeks like you did. You went to bed that night fearful and excited. You were scared he was going to turn you down, but you were so excited about what could happen. 

Turns out, he didn’t make you wait a few weeks. When you turned on your phone the next morning, Mikko responded only a few minutes after you sent your message. 

Does this Sunday at 10 work? 

After staring at the message for a few moments, you replied, confirming the time worked, and got ready to go to work. 

Sunday was only three days away, and if he still hiked and walked like he did seven years ago, then you know your heart was going to go into overdrive.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you parked your car outside the Trail at 9:30 and got out to sit on a bench. You wanted to wait in your car, but you wanted to make up for a few weeks ago when you completely missed Mikko. By the time you sat down, you could see Mikko’s figure jogging over to you from the corner of your eye. 

“Hey,” he says, taking a seat next to you. He was in sunglasses, a white T-shirt (you were totally acting normally about this), and black shorts that really only covered his ass. He hands you a bottle of water and says, “this is for you.”

You hold up your own bottle. “I have one.” 

“Yeah, but I know you don’t use electrolytes in your water as I recommend,” he replies, a smirk on his face. “I’ll even hold it for you.”  

“If you insist,” you tease, shocked that you actually have the power to tease him right now. Your entire body was in overdrive because Mikko looked stupidly handsome right now. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t? 

Mikko holds the two bottles in one hand and extends the other to you to take. With a deep breath, you put your hand in his and grasp it tightly. You let yourself soak in the feel of his large hand wrapped around your hand. You can’t look into Mikko’s eyes because you know you’ll see an emotion you’re not ready to address. 

“Ready to go?” Mikko asks, breathlessly, as if the hike was finished and not in its current state of not even being started. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, taking your hand out of Mikko’s. You still feel the ghost of his hand in yours. 

The first half-hour of the walk is awkward as both of you can’t find the right words to say. What would you even talk about? Do you address the elephant in the room? Do you pretend you haven’t talked to him in seven years? It used to be so easy talking to him, and now, it’s as if it’s a blind date. You wanted to get back to that point with Mikko, but would you ever be able to? 

Thankfully, Mikko breaks the silence first. “It was really nice seeing you at the wedding.” 

“Even though I left immediately after we danced?” you ask, putting out a laugh in an attempt at a joke. 

“I’d rather you ran away from me than me not seeing you at all,” Mikko says, dead serious, his eyes locked on your walking frame. You look at him, and the intensity of his look on you is enough to make you trip and lose your balance. In true Mikko fashion, he wraps an arm around you in time to help catch you before you fall. Your breathing rate picks up as he keeps his arm wrapped around your waist as you both continue to walk. Mikko must think it’s because you’re dehydrated, so he hands you the water bottle (already opened) he brought for you. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, before taking a sip. 

“Anyway,” he says, clearly as off-kilter as you are. “Tell me what brings you back to Denver.” 

So you told him, and that opened up the floodgates of conversation between you and Mikko that you remembered. You told him all about finishing school, work these past few years, your family, and your life, and he tells you about the hockey season, winning the Stanley Cup, and the recent disappointment in the post-season. You both noticeably leave out any mentions of romantic partners. 

In your defense, though, you’re not sure if you’re ready to say that the reason you haven’t been in a true relationship in the past seven years is that you’ve been trying to find someone who made you feel the same way that Mikko made you feel. 

When you’ve come up to a peak on the trail, you and Mikko stop and take in the sights. Seeing a big boulder, Mikko pulls you over to sit. He sits first and pats the empty side of the boulder for you to fit. Taking a deep breath, you sit next to him—your entire right side is up against and aligned with Mikko’s left side. The feel of his sweaty arms should repulse you, but he smells amazing. You always knew he smelled amazing, but sweaty, Mikko smells like a Greek god. 

Just the feel of Mikko up against you makes you wobbly, and you almost fall off the side of the boulder. Mikko wraps an arm around you and holds you tightly against him so that you don’t fall again. You both sit there, breathing in sync, as you stare out at the sight before you. 

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Mikko asks, not looking at you. 

“How much did you miss me?” you reply, meekly. 

“I missed you so much that I could barely breath,” he confesses. “My entire heart has ached for you over these past seven years, and not a day went by where I didn’t think about you.” 

You blink a few times before turning your head to look at him to find him already looking at you. “I definitely missed you as much as you missed me.” 

He smiles his smile, and it’s enough to almost make you fall backward, but Mikko’s arm tightens around you, almost knowing the influence he has on you.  You lean into his side, content with the feel of your body against his and just his body overall.

“We could have been doing this for years,” you whisper, not sure if you want Mikko to hear you. 

“Then let’s make up for it now,” he replies, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. His hand around your waist is stroking soft patterns on your left side as you let yourself sink into Mikko’s hold. He has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable and loved. 

If this hike has shown you anything, it’s that Mikko was your future. His gravitational pull was always going to pull you in and keep you close and secure no matter what. You loved him with your entire soul and being, and maybe one day, you’d be ready to tell him. 

“Ready to go back down?” Mikko asks, his breath tickling your forehead. 

“Yeah,” you say, reluctantly, and get up. When was the next time you were going to be this close to him? 

Once Mikko gets up, he peels off his shirt, and your mouth goes agape at the sight of his chest. His chest was magnificent when he was just twenty, but now, it looks like it’s been sculpted by the heavens. How could someone’s chest be that beautiful? You knew he was going to take off his shirt when he got too sweaty, and you thought you had prepared yourself for it, but you never suspected that he would grow into himself so handsomely. 

Mikko smirks at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He needed all the extra points from you if he was going to convince you he was enough to spend the rest of your life with. 

“I’m going to start,” he says, turning around. “Catch up when you’ve caught your breath.” 

When he turned and revealed his back to you, your knees wobbled. This man was going to be the actual death of you. 

Mikko had opted not to return to Finland for the summer to try to work on his training in Denver, so he proudly said that he was all yours for the summer. You weren’t sure if you wanted all this undivided Mikko attention, but then when he texted you on a random Wednesday asking if you wanted to meet him for lunch during your lunch break, you realized it was a good thing, all this attention. 

He met you at a restaurant down the street from you and was waiting outside for you. When you walked up to him, he opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. You breathed in his scent and realized that he hasn’t changed his cologne in all these years. The fact that it hasn’t changed somehow made your throat tighten up. It took everything in you not to cry. He was still the Mikko you loved seven years ago. 

“Ready?” he asks, a smile wide on his face as he linked in hand to yours. You nodded and allowed him to lead you inside the restaurant. 

Once seated, you and Mikko didn’t say anything as you both peered over the menu, but every now and then, you both would look up at the same and catch each other’s eyes before guiltily looking back at the menu, your faces warm with embarrassment. Finally, though, you decided what you wanted to order, so you closed your menu and decided to observe him as he poured over the menu. He was wearing a white button-down shirt that was tight in all the right places. He had a few of his top buttons undone, giving you a sneak peek at that perfect chest. When he thinks, he always sticks out his tongue, slightly, and he was doing just that. You wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and taste him. How was it possible someone was so pretty? 

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he teases, not looking up from his menu. 

“Great idea,” you reply, pulling out your phone and taking a perfect picture of him. If he put on a pair of dark glasses, then he could look like a handsome college professor. 

Mikko just shakes his head and laughs softly. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Buy me lunch?” you suggest, playfully. 

“Always was the plan,” he answers, closing his menu. He opens his mouth to say something, but the waiter comes over to take your order. From the corner of your eye, you watch him deflate a little at not being able to say what he wanted to say. You wonder what he was going to say to you. 

After the waiter walks away, Mikko pulls in his chair to get a smidge closer to you. In the process of doing so, he manages to knock his legs with yours, but you don’t jump or move at the touch. Instead, you let his lower legs rest against yours as he sits. You and Mikko always were heavy on the physical touch. 

“Tell me about your current project at work,” Mikko says. As you explain to him about your current work project, he can’t help but love the way you get animated about work and talk with your hands. The features on your face are lit up by both your emotions and the lighting in the restaurant. And when you lean forward to talk to him as if you’re telling him a secret, Mikko is pretty sure that you can hear his heartbeat—it’s racing. He leans forward, too, creating a cone of isolation from the rest of the restaurant as he listens to you talk. You always could captivate him more than anyone else in the world could. 

It’s no wonder he fell in love with you all those years ago and never fell out of love. 

You’re so close to him that he could kiss you. He’s still listening, but he’s also thinking about how much he wants to kiss you. He could just lean forward an inch or two and rest his lips on yours. He could finally settle the question about what you taste like, and he can finally convey to you how he feels. 

He never was good at words, especially when it came to English, but with you, it was even harder. He had all these things he wanted to say, both in English and Finnish, but he could never get them out. His mother suggested writing them out and giving you a letter, but where would he start? Would he start with how you were his entire world? Would he continue with how your magnetic force always pulled him in regardless of how far away you were?  Would he mention that he’d give up everything to be by your side forever? Will he write about how he wanted to take you home with him to Finland and recreate all his memories there with you because he wanted everything with you? 

There were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he never had the courage to do so. 

You were still talking, and he desperately wanted to kiss you, and he was going to. He was really, really close to your lips, but then the fucking waiter shows up and ruins the moment again. 

You both pull away, and you clear your throat to clear your head from how you were pretty sure Mikko was going to kiss you. 

As you both start to eat, it’s difficult to get back into that cone of isolation that you were both in, but you’re still drawn to him like opposite sides of a magnet. 

The rest of lunch goes normally as you both catch up more and talk. Still, you're yearning for that cocoon of isolation and intimacy from before. You know you've always had Mikko's undivided attention, but the way it was a few minutes ago made your heart burst. He paid attention only to you, and he wanted to make sure that you knew that. 

The only comfort from leaving that cone was the fact that Mikko's leg was still resting against yours. That warmth was enough to keep a smile on your face. That's why I loved him, you remind yourself. He always knew what to do to keep you smiling. 

At the end of lunch and a brief argument over who's paying the bill (Mikko won), he's walking you back to your building. 

"Hey, when you have a free weekend, do you want to drive out to Aspen?" he suggests. "We can go hiking or just hang around the downtown area. We could rent a small cabin and just hang out." 

"That sounds perfect," you reply. "I'll call you one day this week, and we can plan it?" 

"Yeah," he replies, a wide smile on his face. 

When you got back to your building, Mikko kissed your cheek and whispered goodbye before he stepped away and watched you walk back into the building. 

You were going to be the end of him. 

After planning and discussing and filing for PTO, you and Mikko were off to Aspen for a four-day weekend late on a Thursday night. You managed to get Friday and Monday off, so you and Mikko were going to spend four days hanging out and relaxing in the Aspen mountains. As you were packing, you couldn’t help but wonder what this weekend was going to do for your emotions and feelings for him. Often rather than not, you spent your free time with him, taking walks around the city, going for hikes, having movie nights, or going out for dinner and/or drinks. None of that was helping. Four days in the mountains with Mikko? Your heart was going to be working in overdrive. 

It was roughly one hour into the drive when your GPS alerted you that there was a slow down up ahead, causing delays of up to sixty to ninety minutes. As Mikko’s car came to a standstill and the automatic shut-off came on, you and Mikko glanced at each other and laughed. You thought that leaving on a Thursday night after work would allow you to miss any traffic, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. 

“Good thing we have snacks,” you mention, reaching into the back seat to grab the cooler of snacks you packed. 

“Hopefully, we make it before the office that’s holding our keys closes,” Mikko muses when you hand him a bottle of water. 

The office closed at nine. There was going to be a chance that you and Mikko wouldn’t make it in time. As if sensing your anxiety, Mikko takes your hand in his and says, “don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” 

His warm and large hand in yours was all you needed to calm you down. It always was your cure for any bouts of anxiety you’d feel. 

For about half an hour, no one in traffic was moving. Everyone was still at a standstill, and as the night sky turned into a golden haze of sunset, there was no doubt in your or Mikko’s minds that you weren’t going to make it in time.

“It looks like everyone’s turning off their cars to conserve gas,” you say, noticing the lights of many cars turning off. “Thankfully, it’s not too hot.”

“Yeah,” Mikko responds, turning off his car right after opening some windows for a breeze. “This wasn’t how I thought this weekend would go.” 

“We’ll still find a way to make it fun.” 

Mikko looks over at you with a soft smile on his face. Your heart nearly stopped at seeing him looking at you with all the love in his eyes. His stupid, beautiful face was looking at you as if you were the queen of the world. He was looking at you as if he wanted to devour you and longingly love you for the rest of his life. And with the sun setting behind him and all the colors creating a beautiful backdrop, your entire body warmed and clenched at the idea that you got so lucky as to know him and his stupidly, beautiful features. How did you get so lucky not only to meet him but have him as a friend and fall in love with him? 

Well, falling in love with Mikko wasn’t luck. Mikko was easy to fall in love with. It took no effort. With one look, it was fated that your heart would always be his. Even if you went to the far ends of the universe and saw and met some of the most beautiful and amazing people in the universe, your heart would always beat and return to Mikko. That was the hold he had on you.

Your heart and soul were always his. That’s what was written in the stars at their first moment of creation. 

“Are you okay?” Mikko whispers, not wanting to disrupt you. He could tell you were deep in your thoughts, but you were staring and observing him, so he wanted to know what you were thinking. His head was blocking any of the sunlight from reaching your face. His dark shadow was on your face, causing a cascade of light to halo around your form. You were sitting there, in his car, like a dream. 

There were so many times over the past seven years when he’d get in the car and look over and hope and beg the universe that you would be sitting there next to him. He wanted to drive you around and show you off, and he wanted you to be right there next to him for all of his adventures in life, and he wanted to be right there next to you in all your adventures in life. 

You were sitting there, looking so stunning and a replica of his dreams, and the sun was shining around you, enshrining you in a halo, looking like someone sent from up above. 

You are the love of Mikko’s life, and his heart aches to know you’re right there but also so far out of reach. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, your voice sounding dry and hoarse. “You just look really fucking beautiful with the way the sun is shining around you.” 

“I could say the same thing about you,” he replies. He tries feeling around his (super short, in your opinion) shorts pockets to find his phone, but he can’t, so he reaches across your lap for your phone to take a picture of you. He readjusts his head so that he can illuminate you in that same glow before he snaps a few photos of you. You give him a soft smile for the pictures, and he knows right then and there that every centimeter of his heart is yours. All the blood that courses through his veins and heart, all the nerve endings throughout his body, and all his bodily metabolic processes are yours. His body beats and moves and functions and acts for you. It’s always been for you. 

“Please send it to me,” Mikko requests, his throat suddenly dry. 

“Of course,” you reply, swiping through the photos before you pick your favorite to send to him. 

“All of them,” he growls. 

You look at him and give him a funny look. “But some of them I don’t look good in.” 

“That’s your opinion, not mine. I want them all. Please.”  

You scrunch your eyebrows and forehead in laughter and send them all to him. Once you do, you begin, “Your turn for photos, Mr. Always-Beautiful Man.” 

His heart sings for your praise and words of calling him beautiful. That was the highest compliment anyone has ever given him. All of his hockey awards and praises combined do not compare to you complimenting him in any shape or form. 

You turn in your seat to get a better angle of Mikko. Not satisfied, you place your phone on the center console before you reach over to place your hands on his face to readjust the angle and shape of his face. You brush your hands over the hair on his forehead before softly stroking his cheekbones and settling back in your seat. 

Yes, Mikko’s heart is beating so fast that the force could launch his heart through his sternum into your lap. 

As you’re snapping photos, Mikko hopes that you can’t tell how much he loves you. Is it possible to see, in his eyes, that he wants you in every single possible way but he’ll wait until you say the word? With one word, you could build up his world and universes, and with one word, you could make him yours. Then again, he always was at your will, and that truly never will change. He was fully yours seven years ago, and now, he’s completely yours, just heightened. 

“I hate how photogenic you are,” you comment, swiping through the photos, taking Mikko out of his thoughts. “It’s not fair.” 

“Sorry,” Mikko says, looking at his phone and setting one of the photos of you as his home screen. 

“Sure you are,” you reply, turning to face the front of the car and rolling your eyes as you begin to munch on a snack. 

He really wasn’t. He wasn’t going to apologize for captivating you with his looks when you do the same every damn time he looks at you. 

Five hours later, well after the 9 pm deadline to pick up the keys, and close to midnight, you and Mikko reached the rental cabin in Aspen. You called ahead, trying to see if they would leave your keys under the welcome mat, but they replied, saying it wasn’t safe. 

“Should we find a motel?” you suggest, sitting in the car trying to figure out what to do. 

“We could always just sleep in the car,” Mikko counters. “I’m not sure if there will be any rooms open.” 

“So, we just roll back the seats and sleep?”

“Yeah,” he replies, getting out of the car to find his pajamas in his overnight bag in the trunk. You quickly follow and do the same. “You can change in the car, and I’ll change out here.”

“Okay,” you reply, breathlessly. You were going to be changing into pajamas with Mikko just a few feet away from you. You’ve done that before, but normally, there are walls blocking his view, but this time, he can look right through the windows and watch you. Did you want him to watch you and see parts of your body he’s never seen before? Just the idea of him getting to see more of you sets your body on fire. 

When you’ve pulled out your pajamas and sweatshirt, you move to the driver’s seat, knowing he has more legroom because he’s taller. You close the door but don’t start changing. You can see, through the driver’s side mirror, Mikko has pulled his shirt over his head and is folding it up before putting on his pajama shirt. Oh, that back. Yeah, you’re waiting until he’s done changing before you do anything. When he pulls down his shorts and is standing there in only a sweatshirt and boxers, your heart begins palpitating. You knew he had massive thighs and ass that can win a competition but in only boxers? It was no wonder your brain was malfunctioning. This man was beautiful and handsome in every single possible way.  

This kind, compassionate, caring, talented man had a body that can win first place in any beauty competition. It wasn’t fair that he was the most amazing person you’ve ever met and ridiculously, stupidly, handsome. 

Of course, you fell for him. 

When he was done changing, he looked over his shoulder to see if you were done changing, and you were quick to turn your eyes away from the mirror. It was dark, so he probably couldn’t see that you were staring at him as he changed (like a stalker), but still. 

As you began to change, Mikko turned his back to you and waited until you opened the car door to signal you were done. It took everything in his willpower not to turn and see you change. What would it do to him to see even more of you? He knew you inside and out, and he knew everything there was to know about you, and he loved it all. To see more parts of you that you’ve never shown him? His entire body would fall in on itself. 

He’s twiddling with his thumbs when the horn of the car makes him jump. He turns his head to see what the matter is. When he sees your bare shoulder, he knows it was an accident, but he’s frozen in place. All he’s getting is your bare shoulders and an inch of your upper back, but it’s enough to put his entire body in a haze. He never knew shoulders could be so perfect, but yours were incredibly fucking perfect. He wanted to rest his hands on your shoulders in support, he wanted to kiss your shoulders as he held you against his body during movie nights, and he wanted to brush away hair from your shoulders and back as he helped you put on a necklace. 

Mikko quickly looks away, but he knows that during this weekend, he’s going to fall more and more in love with you. 

When you get out of the car after changing, you and Mikko are both warm and exhilarated from seeing bits of the other changing that you both get ready to sleep in silence. The only sounds are the crickets outside and you and Mikko lowering the seats. When you both lay down, you finally look over at Mikko to find him already looking at you. The moon was illuminating his skin and figure perfectly; it made you burst with love. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs in reply. My love

You’re quick to get into a comfortable position; however, a chill racks through your body, so you scrunch into a ball to make you warm. 

“Cold?” Mikko asks. You can hear the concern in his voice. 

“A little,” you lie, not wanting to make him worry. 

“Come over here,” he suggests, opening up his arms for you. He takes the sweatshirt he was going to use as a pillow and dangles it as a reward. 

Slowly, you maneuver yourself over the center console and onto Mikko’s seat. It’s not big, so you’re entirely wedged up against him. You take the sweatshirt from him and put it on; you let the warmth engulf you. You knew that Mikko was kind and caring, but to provide you with everything you needed at that moment was a new level of kindness and heart to Mikko you never knew possible. 

He pulls you flush against him and wraps an arm around you. You wrap your arms comfortably against your chest and let yourself soak in his warmth. 

“Are your hands still cold? Your legs?” he asks. 

You nod, letting your forehead fall to the space between his collarbones. In one swift motion, Mikko wraps a leg around your legs, letting the warmth from his sweatpants-clothed leg send warm sensations through your body, and takes your arms and moves them beneath his sweatshirt, allowing his sturdy chest to warm you. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling the sleep induced by his warmth coming. 

“Whatever you need,” he replied, resting an arm tightly around your waist. “I’ll give you whatever you need.” 

You’re half asleep when you hear the last sentence, but it warms you nonetheless. Here was this man who was willing to give you the shirt off his back. How were you ever supposed to love another man when Mikko set the standard? 

Since the Aspen trip, the rest of the summer went by in a haze. The remaining weeks were spent hanging out in Mikko's backyard, picnics in local parks, movie nights on your couch, and dinners in the local restaurants. Before you knew it, training camp was around the corner, and more of Mikko's time was spent in the gym, getting ready for the upcoming season. While it hurt to spend less time with him, you understood, and this time around, you went and watched him on the ice. You knew Mikko was an excellent hockey player, but you never once watched him in person. It was so enchanting watching him set up plays and glide across the ice. Who knew the love of your life was so incredibly talented? 

The weekend before training camp started, Mikko planned on hosting a barbecue to welcome the team and their families back to Denver. He invited you. At first, you were going to say no because you didn't feel like you belonged at the event, but you knew that Mikko would pout and sulk until you said yes. You didn't want him to know the kind of power he held over you. 

The day before the barbecue, Mikko called you frantically. He had no idea what he was doing and asked you to come over early to help. 

"What makes you think that I know anything about hosting?" you asked, taking a little jubilation at knowing there was something that Mikko wasn't good at (because he seemed good at everything!). 

"I don't. I just know you calm me down." 

Well, then. 

You showed up the next day, a bag of groceries in hand, ready to help Mikko host. You weren’t quite sure how you were going to help him in any way he asked (you’d do this, even if he wasn’t in a crisis). 

Carefully, you used the spare key he gave you and unlocked his house. You didn’t want to scare him, so when you entered and took off your shoes, you announced your presence quietly. He wasn’t in the kitchen, you noticed, so you placed the groceries you purchased in the fridge. Upon further listening, you could hear him singing along to a song in the washroom. He must be cleaning it. 

“Hey,” you said, poking your head into the bathroom. He was playing his music, loudly, as he scrubbed the toilet. 

“Hey,” he replied, looking at you, a smile wide on his face. “When did you get here?”

“Maybe five minutes ago. I bought you potato salad and hotdog and hamburger buns.”

“You’re the best,” Mikko replies, giving you a sweaty hug. “I’m almost done here, and then we can start preparing the food.” 

As he finished cleaning the rest of the washroom, you leaned against the door frame, watching him and talking to him. You tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying, but your eyes couldn’t help but drift to his arms as they flexed as he scrubbed the toilet. You knew he had large and attractive arms, but you weren’t ever aware he had such attractive veins. Finally, you understood what your nursing friends meant when they called veins “delicious.” All you wanted to do was run your fingers along his veins. 

When he finished, you followed him to his kitchen where he washed his hands and discussed with you what the plan for preparing was. The event was a potluck event with individual families bringing sides while Mikko supplied the grilled foods. 

“We’ll start with the grilling once people start to arrive,” he tells you, looking through the fridge.

“What did you pick up?”

“Hotdogs, hamburgers, turkey hotdogs, some bean hamburger that someone requested, corn, and zucchini,” he lists off. 

“So, should we just put out drinks and cutlery and set things up for people to get drinks and snacks?”

Mikko nods his head, his heart warming at the idea that he was hosting a barbecue with you. It was the domesticity of it all that was setting his heart aflame. 

By the time you and Mikko had set out snacks and drinks with small paper plates and napkins, the doorbell rang, alerting that the first couple of people had arrived. Mikko opened the door and welcomed guests while you opened up the sliding door towards the backyard to facilitate easy movement from the backyard to the inside of the house. 

The next hour passed as more guests arrived. Mikko fired up the grill while you helped in the kitchen, topping off drinks and organizing the dishes people brought. You didn’t get a chance to see Mikko or hang around him, but every now and then, you’d get a look at him, outside grilling, and your heart would pick up seeing how happy and in his element he looked. It also didn’t help that the sun was hitting his skin perfectly. 

A few times, Mikko would search through the crowd, looking for you, whether you were inside or in the backyard. He’d catch your eye and smile widely at you. Sometimes, he’d wink at you before giving you his signature grin. Some of the spouses around you picked up what Mikko was doing and made sure to tease you every time he did. 

They were convinced that he had feelings for you, but you kept denying it. Sure, maybe seven years ago he did, but you really weren’t sure where he was on the feelings-for-you spectrum right now. He was your best friend, that’s all. 

When he called out that the grilled foods were ready, a buffet line started with people starting at the grill, getting their choice of food before going inside for sides and topping off their drinks. Mikko stayed at the grill to help serve while you went inside to facilitate easy movement around the kitchen island and helped top off drinks. By the time the last people had gotten their food and were seated at the tables and chairs outside, you were about to make your way to the grill to start your own plate, but Mikko walked in first, holding two plates. He handed one to you and said, 

“I got you your favorites.”

Taking the plate out of his hands, your fingers lightly brushed his as you thanked him. He placed his empty hand on the small of your bag and guided you into the kitchen to fill your plates on the sides. 

When you and Mikko got outside, you started to walk toward one end of the table with some of the people you’d been talking to throughout the day, but Mikko had other plans. 

“Nope,” he said, a hint of jealousy and possession in his voice. He wrapped an arm around your waist and took you to an area of the table that had two empty seats. He’s never used that tone with you before, and it made the deepest parts of your body and soul come alive with fire. 

Throughout the meal, Mikko had his hand on your thigh the entire time. When he first rested his hand there, you nearly choked on your food. Sure, Mikko was touchy with you, but it was usually an arm hanging around the top of whatever chair you were sitting in or an elbow resting on your shoulder. He never put his hand on your thigh before, and he knew exactly what it did to you because as he watched you drink some water to clear your throat after a coughing fit brought on by his touch, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath hot and exhilarating against your cheek,

“Are you okay?” 

Without looking at him, you knew he had a smug grin on his face. 

“Peachy,” you replied, not giving him any look. He chuckled in your ear in response and pulled back to continue eating, but his hand didn’t leave your thigh. 

When you were both done eating, Mikko leaned back in his seat. Deeming it wasn’t close enough to you, he scooted his chair closer to you and changed the position of his hands. The hand that was previously resting on your thigh migrated to rest against the back of your chair, parallel to your shoulders. His thumb was tracing soft circles on the soft skin between your neck and the point of your shoulder. His other hand took one of your hands and place it in his laugh. He intertwined his hands with yours as his thumb traced small circles along the pulse point of your wrist. 

This time, you weren’t shocked at the touch and leaned into his body. 

You and Mikko sat like that for the next half-hour as conversation filled his backyard and everyone got more food and caught up after a summer away from each other. 

Noticing that most people were done with their food and had thrown their plates and utensils into the trash, you asked, “Should we bring out the dessert?” 

“Sure,” Mikko said, mentally preparing himself to let go of you. As if seeing you both unwillingly moving from your seats, Gabe piped up saying he and a few other people can grab the dessert.

“You two have done so much already,” Gabe comments. “You two relax.” 

After giving him directions about where to find everything, you and Mikko relaxed back into each other, a breath you both didn’t know you were holding breathed out. 

A few minutes later, Mikko nudges you with his knee, and you look at him to find him already looking at you. He had a soft smile on his face as his eyes roamed across your face. You weren’t sure what he was searching for, but with a small smile, you knew he found what he was looking for. 

“Thank you for helping me, today,” he says, his voice quiet amongst the loud atmosphere in the backyard. With those six words, all the other voices faded away, even as cheers went up when the dessert was brought out. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, an earnest look in your eyes. “What else are friends for?”

“I’d say we put on a good event, no?”

“I’d say you’re right.” 

After that, neither of you says anything, but you’re both still looking at each other, searching over each other’s features for that secret message that neither of you truly knows what it is. It’s not until Mikko leans closer and his eyes go down to your lips does your heart stop and you get breathless. You and Mikko have been practically sitting on top of each other for the past hour, but it’s not until he leans less than a centimeter closer to you do you get breathless. 

The hand that was wrapped in your hand goes to cup your cheek. In a matter of seconds, he leans down and gently places his lips on yours. His thigh is bouncing up and down in nerves, and on instinct, one of your hands goes to cover his gargantuan thighs as your other hand goes to the back of his head to pull him closer to you. 

This, this is what you’ve been waiting for. 

His lips are soft against yours as he deepens the kiss, both his hands now resting softly against your face. Slowly and breathlessly, Mikko pulls away, his nose resting against yours. 

“I hope you know how much I love you,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I hope you know how much I love you,” you echo, still not quite believing that this was happening. 

“I fell in love with you seven years ago and never stopped. When I saw you at that wedding, it was like the universe gave me another chance. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

You shake your head before placing a soft peck on the tip of his nose. “I could have told you how I felt, too.” 

“I love you,” he whispers, a wide smile lighting up his face. 

“I love you, too,” you murmur, closing the space between his lips and yours. When his lips touch yours again, it feels like the universe is perfectly aligned. Everything is perfect because finally, finally, you and Mikko are on the same page. 

Kissing him feels like summer, and you will always be catching feelings for him. 

When you first landed in Denver at the start of the summer, running into Mikko was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn’t want to think about the feelings you had for him that one summer seven years ago, and you didn’t want to think about how hard it was to live your life in conjunction with those feelings after you returned home. 

You always knew that Mikko was the one for you. It was always going to be him. 

So

As you tape up your final box, four years later, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like if you didn’t have that dance with him at the wedding. It’s hard to imagine what your life would turn out to be if you didn’t see that text from him. It’s especially hard to see what your life would be like if he wasn’t the first one to confess. 

“Ready to go?” Mikko asks, holding a box, leaning against the door frame of your apartment. “If you’re not ready to move in with me, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you interrupt. “I’m just reflecting.” 

Mikko smiles. “Then reflect all you want. I’ll be waiting for you. Always.” 

And with that, a new chapter in your life began. With Mikko at your side and you at Mikko’s side. 

The End

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you thought; any form of feedback is greatly appreciated!

[soniruza]

Appreciation post with every single Taylor Room I've done so far! 💛💜❤️🩵🩷🩶🤎💙🤍

The Taylor Swift Room and the Reputation Room won't be done until we have their Taylor's Version re-release (it would only be fair!).

[uhode]

some of the tables i’ve encountered this summer

[arealtrashact]

Make your own kind of music, sing your own special song

[kikaruuni]

transparent frakenstein from Fate/Grand Order Anniversary ALBUM

[fauxvvounds]

back then we were just creatures in heaven 🪐✨🌸

[ceruleableu]

that one madra trend but with the moth man

[mothcpu]

Laying around out in wide open spaces, And places, that seem to know and sing your name

[milktea-grn]

everything eats and is eaten (time is fed)

[m-u-n-c-h-y]

I postponed watching the last episode to make this...

[lilystyles]

blank space.

part three of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333

brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.

warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)

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

* * * * *

Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.

It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.

Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.

Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.

But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.

He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.

Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.

But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to. 

If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow. 

He wanted her so badly.

Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.

And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.

His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.

However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.

Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.

He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.

But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.

Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working. 

In.

Out.

In. 

Out.

As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.

This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.

And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop. 

He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.

He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other. 

Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.

Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.

So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.

Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.

Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.

Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.

“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.

Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.

Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.

“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?

“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.

Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.

His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.

Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.

Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.

Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.

He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.

She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.

Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.

“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.

He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.

She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”

Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word. 

“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”

She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much. 

“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.

“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.

She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”

She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.

And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.

“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.

“You so are.” He replied.

She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.

The devil had a magic spell on the angel.

“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.

Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.

She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.

She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”

He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”

She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.

It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”

She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how. 

Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’

Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”

Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off. 

“Oops.” She giggled.

“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.

“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.

They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.

“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.

He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes. 

“Anything?” He asked mischievously. 

She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”

He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.

His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.

She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.

His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.

As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.

Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.

Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.

With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.

Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.

Harry shifted his hips to move with hers  “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.

Oh shit.

“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was. 

He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.

Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.

Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??” 

Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”

Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh. 

“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.

Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.

“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed. 

Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there. 

“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”

Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest. 

She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”

Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”

Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.

Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”

He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”

Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.

Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”

He just nodded, and let out a breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.

He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.

“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.

They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.

All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?

She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.

But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings. 

The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.

Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.

Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.

Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?

He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”

She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”

He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”

She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.

She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.

She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her? 

“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.

He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.

He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”

Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”

She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking. 

“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”

The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n. 

Her heart practically stopped.

He’d liked her too? 

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. 

Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession. 

He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.

“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”

He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”

He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”

Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.

Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”

He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response. 

“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.

He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment. 

Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.

“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.

She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised. 

“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.

She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”

This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him? 

She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face. 

“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.

In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.

Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.

A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.

This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”

A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”

That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?

He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome. 

“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again. 

She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her. 

She was so adorable. 

Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip. 

“Take this off,” She sighed.

He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.

His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.

She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.

He leaned down now, almost face to face.

“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.

He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.” 

She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”

He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.

“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.

Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.

Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.

His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.

His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.

“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly. 

“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.

“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.

He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.

His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”

One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.

When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.

“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.

One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.

He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry. 

“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.

He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”

And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.

“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.

She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl. 

He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath. 

The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.

Her.

When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.

“Sensitive,” She whispered.

He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”

She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him. 

His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.

Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.

As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.

“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.

“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.

“Can I suck you off?”

He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”

She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.

She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.

She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”

He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”

She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.

He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”

His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.

“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.

His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”

Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.

His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”

He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off. 

She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.

Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.

“You okay, Trouble?”

She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”

His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”

She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.

He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.

She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”

And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.

“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.

Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back. 

They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.

He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.

“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.

“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.

When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin. 

“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.

She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him. 

When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.

Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name. 

“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.

He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.

Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry. 

“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.

When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.

She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth. 

Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.

“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”

She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was. 

Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.

Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.

Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.

Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched. 

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”

Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.

“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.

“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.

She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.

It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.

 “Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.

And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show. 

But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.

He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.

As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry. 

Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her. 

Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class. 

Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing. 

She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.

The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.

And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.

Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.

“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.

Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked. 

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”

Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.

She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.

But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”

Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.

His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry. 

She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.

She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.

As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those! 

She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips. 

“Take me home, Styles?”

So he did.

love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx

[jimimn]

sunshine 🥺 (cr. namuspromised)

[soniruza]

The Eras Tour (Soniruza's Version)!

💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍

[rottenapplefae]

like the sap from the cedar, rolling down to be near her, it’s second nature…

[arealtrashact]

Second Verse

Part 1

[kikaruuni]

Ninja Astolfo